Aftershock (9 page)

What the hell was going on with him? His head insisted this was a huge mistake, that it was the wrong time and the wrong woman to fall head over heels for. He didn’t want to hear that little voice inside him. With a deliberate effort he shut it off. He wanted Sydney Alexander, more than he’d ever wanted any other woman in his life. Right from the moment he’d laid eyes on her strutting down that theater aisle.

Had he just told her he wanted her heart? Yeah, he had. And it scared him shitless to feel that way about someone.

“Let me touch you.” She slid a hand between them to reach for his cock but he wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

“Not this time.” That would definitely be his undoing. The thought of her stroking him, licking him, taking him in her mouth sent a jolt of excitement through his body. As if he needed any more stimulation.

He wanted his mouth on her everywhere, but he couldn’t seem to tear himself away from her lips. He began with just a light kiss, then nibbled her lips, soothed the little bites with his tongue before he delved inside again, savoring every nuance of her taste. Trailing his tongue along the line of her jaw, he stopped at the sensitive place behind her ear. When he gently bit her earlobe she let out a little squeak and tried to push against him.

Slow and deliberate, he traced a damp path to her breasts and sucked each nipple. When she moaned and writhed to his satisfaction, he slid further down her tummy to the soft curls on her mound. The tip of his tongue brushed her clit just for a moment before he moved to her ankles. He licked each place, carefully, from her ankle up the inside of her thigh and back down the other side.

By now, she was thrashing and begging him.

“Please, please, please.”

He knew what she wanted. He wanted it, too. But he was determined to keep her on the edge as long as possible. Rolling to the side, he took her with him so she was on top. Her breasts pressed into his chest, her hard nipples like brands burning his skin. His fingers threaded through her thick hair as he covered her mouth again with his tongue, sliding easily into the hot wetness of it. He danced his tongue over every surface. Licked and tasted. When her own began to dance with his, his cock jerked in response and his balls felt as if tiny needles pierced them.

Rick eased her upper leg over both of his to press his knee against the wetness of her pussy. When he moved slowly back and forth, she pressed down against him, a silent demand for more. One hand slid along the curve of her hip, the indentation of her waist, along her ribs to cup a breast with his palm. The mound of flesh fit in his hand so nicely. He’d never been one for women with very large breasts, unlike Danny and Garrett. He went for the entire package, and Sydney’s were perfectly proportioned for the rest of her. He rasped his thumb over the beaded nip. Felt her indrawn breath. He did it again, and her gasp made his cock flex.

Rick wanted to take his time with her, draw it out, make it last, but his control was so eroded he was getting desperate. His hands actually shook as he grabbed the condom on the nightstand, sheathed himself, and took a deep breath. He was determined to make this good for her, no matter how much it cost him.

Hooking his arms beneath her knees he pushed her legs back, opening her wide to him. Dipping his head, he gave himself a moment to taste her sweet pussy, assuring himself she was good and wet and ready for him. Her liquid was nectar on his tongue, and he lapped deeply.

Sydney watched him with slumberous eyes. Locking his gaze with hers, he nudged her opening with the head of his shaft, just touching it. The pulse at the hollow of her throat beat harder and faster, just from that minimal contact. He gritted his teeth as he reached for control before he eased into her a little at a time, until he filled her completely. Her walls tightened around him, a snug fit that made every nerve ending sizzle. He paused, giving her time to adjust to him, to get ready.

The feel of her around him was exquisite torture.

Holy shit! This was like the first time only better because now he knew what he was doing. No other woman had ever made him feel this way. Not ever. He needed to make this better than good for both of them.

Pulling all the way back he drove into her hard. Again. And again. She was with him every step of the way. They were like two animals in the grip of the mating instinct, each demanding power from the other. Nothing easy here. There was a shared desperation to reach that elusive peak and crash hard on the other side.

He increased both the power and the speed of his thrusts as the muscles of her cunt gripped and squeezed him. The movement set up ripples through his body and he knew he was right there on the edge. Sliding one hand between them, he found her clit again and rubbed. He lowered his head to take one diamond-hard nipple in his mouth, bit down on it gently and moved to the other one. Never once did he ease up on the steady stroking motion.

Her cunt tightened even more. With her legs wrapped around him she dug her heels into his back and pulled him into her even deeper. Her nails clawed him, dug into his back. The moment he felt her climax unwind, he let himself go, and they fell over the edge together, shuddering and quaking as the spasms shook them. When the grip of the orgasm eased, he touched his forehead to hers and drew in great gulps of air. He wasn’t sure if it was his heart or hers he heard beat so furiously but his pounded like a jackhammer in his chest.

He had no idea how much time passed before he thought to lever himself up from her and lower her legs to the bed. With great care he slid from the hot grasp of her body and headed toward what he hoped was the bathroom. Condom disposed of, he made his way back to the bedroom and picked up his jeans and boxer briefs. But instead of putting them on, he stood there with them in his hands, aware he was about to do something stupid.

The smart thing would be to get dressed, give her an affectionate kiss, and head for home. But smart didn’t seem to cut it at that moment. He didn’t want the night to end and he was sure that could only spell trouble. But he’d meant what he said about wanting her soul and her heart. Just as he wanted to give his to her. He was stunned by what he felt for her.

Sydney Alexander touched a place deep inside him. His heart. She was right there in his heart. Danger signs popped up everywhere. There was no room in his life right now for any kind of real relationship. The band, the tour, and the album deserved every bit of his attention.

He didn’t want to care about those things. Not right now. If this turned into something very real, he’d figure out how to balance it later. And convince her at the same time, because he was sure she’d be coming from the same place he was. With deliberate effort he shut his mind to the voices in his head and tossed his clothes onto a chair. Sliding into bed again he pulled Sydney up against his body, spoon fashion, and rested a hand on her left breast. Her heart beat a rhythm against his palm and her sweet ass fit right into the curve of his body.

“I thought you were leaving,” she murmured, her voice slurred with drowsiness and satisfaction.

“I thought so, too,” he whispered.

He tucked her head beneath his chin and closed his eyes.

It’s more than sex, Sydney. A whole lot more. What are we going to do?

The bedroom was still dark but enough light from the early morning sunrise filtered in through the blinds for Rick to drink in one last sight of the woman lying in bed. He stood for long moments and stared down at the graceful curve of her shoulder, the silken mass of her hair, the swell of her bottom as the sheet draped over it. He had the profound feeling that last night had forever changed his life, and he wondered if she would feel the same.

The night was incredible. That was the only word for it. He could still taste her on his tongue, smell her on his skin, feel her body pressed against his. Now he knew what some guys meant when they said sex could be like a religious experience. He closed his eyes to recapture the snug feel of her pussy as it clutched his cock, milking it. That fast, he was hard as a rock.

Damn!

Sunday wasn’t a workday for her, at least not until she and Lightnin’ hit the road, so he had to restrain himself from waking her. He wanted one more taste of her, one more touch, one last moment to inhale the scent distinctly Sydney, more than he wanted to breathe.

Get it together, Trajean.

It would be better for both of them if he left before she woke. Give them some distance until they sorted out this thing that swept them up like a whirlwind. But he didn’t just want to beat it out of there as if what they’d shared was nothing. Morning-after protocol had never been a problem for him with other women, but Sydney was different. What should he do? Wake her? Let her sleep? Leave a note? He couldn’t remember feeling so uncertain since the first time the band auditioned for a club owner.

Finally he dug around in her kitchen until he found some paper. He couldn’t exactly say
Thanks for the great sex
but we better get back to business.
Not when she’d invaded every inch of his body and his brain. Made him feel things he’d never expected. When he fell, he sure hadn’t thought it would be for a prickly female who guarded her emotions so carefully she tried to pretend she didn’t have any.

He wouldn’t give up on her, though. On them. Last night, layers of emotions had been exposed for him to see. He wanted her to know it meant a lot. That it was special. That this was just the beginning. It wouldn’t be easy, but somehow he’d make her see what they had here. What they could build on.

Finally he scratched out what he hoped would be acceptable. Just the right tone. And left quietly. He needed to get home, get his shit together, organize his thoughts. He was sure he’d hear from her today or tomorrow about Lightnin’ business. He didn’t want the call to be awkward, but he had no intention of letting her pretend nothing explosive had happened between them.

As he drove home all he could think about was the hours they spent together, the connection. The intensity of what they shared. And where they went from here.

At home he stood in his bathroom, waiting for the water in the shower to heat up, sipping his third cup of black coffee.

What have I gotten myself into?

He studied his face in the mirror, as if he might find an answer there. Last night had been, well, unbelievable was one word that came to his mind. Unforgettable. Out of this world. But where in the fucking hell did that leave him? Meeting a woman like Sydney Alexander and falling into...he didn’t know what to call it yet, was not part of his plans.

He saw how Marc’s family functioned as a unit and had always wondered if he’d ever find the one right woman who could fit into the intricate pieces of his life. Someone like Emma, who literally came out of nowhere to complete Marc and enrich his existence.

But am I ready for that?

There was too much to accomplish. As the band leader he needed to focus all his energy in one direction. Lightnin’. Maybe if he’d been more of a player….

No, that wasn’t who he was. Like Marc, Rick was kind of an anomaly in the music business, especially the rock world. He wasn’t into the groupie scene. He wasn’t always on the lookout for a woman to hang out with. Or someone to get laid with. Since the genesis of Lightnin’, he’d been very focused. Very responsible. Very disciplined. At least he liked to think so. He’d had to be. In the cutthroat music business, you were as good as your last song. Your last concert. From Day One he had a very specific vision for the band and a plan for how to achieve it. As the leader he established the goals and made sure everyone bought into them. He insisted on the same level of commitment from everyone.

The climb up the ladder of the club circuit had been a very tough one, with disaster always looming if someone made a misstep. He was the one who drove Lightnin’, managed them, directed them, and made sure they didn’t lose focus. He was the one, along with Marc, who created their brand, a trademark that came not from glitz and fancy packaging but from music that hit the soul. Music that was used every bit of their creative talent and was performed with emotion. That was
real.

When his dad walked out, leaving him, his mother, and sister to fend for themselves, Rick had to grow up fast. As a young teenager he was thrust into responsibility, the same ethic of hard work and accountability that he took with him as the leader of
Lightnin’.
He believed with all his heart he could take the band where they wanted to go.

Some nights, those first few weeks after his family shattered, he had laid in his bed wondering if he had done something wrong. Maybe if he was smarter. Better at everything. More responsible. But his mother and sister were falling apart, so he’d hidden that frightened kid and forged ahead.

Now, suddenly, his life was changing around him. Meredith would leave for college soon. His mother had received a great promotion at work and had at last developed real confidence. And the band had this major breakthrough. A two-year contract with Butch Meredith. A tour. A CD with a recognized label. He couldn’t let anything derail that. It was his responsibility to see it all worked out the way it was supposed to.

He was finally within reach of success. It was his obligation to make sure nothing impeded the band’s progress or damaged the situation in any way.

But here was Sydney Alexander, out of the blue, an arrow that pierced him right at his core. He wished he could say it was just really good sex, but he’d be lying to himself. Ever since she’d walked into that rehearsal, he’d been smitten.

Smitten? Do they even use that word anymore? Jesus!

All he knew was this
thing
that detonated between them was deep and intensive and life-altering. The kind of connection that kept a bubble of anticipation floating in his stomach. He knew she felt the same way, knew it in his bones. Otherwise, last night wouldn’t have been so intense. So, well, connecting. He was pretty sure
it would be harder to convince Sydney of the fact than to figure out what to do with it himself. When he looked at his face in the fog of the mirror he saw the eyes of a man in major conflict A man not quite sure which side of him would win.