Bad Boy Romance: Nick (Romantic Suspense Alpha Male Romance) (New Adult Rock Star Contemporary Short Stories) (Hard Rock Star Series Book 2) (3 page)

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I was both surprised and not surprised when we walked into
Olivia’s apartment. It was one of those old, old beachfront apartments—not
quite good enough to be a condo. Whoever owned the building had at least torn
out the old carpet; probably after one of the bad hurricane seasons. Jules and
Dan lived in an apartment just like it almost. “Not a bad place,” I told her,
looking around. Mounted up all around the living room she had posters—signed
posters, no less—from at least a dozen concerts.

“It’s home,” Olivia said with a shrug. She threw her bag
onto a bookshelf near the door and kicked her shoes off of her feet. Her
apartment smelled good—like soap and spices and coffee. It reminded me weirdly
of my mom’s place, something about the soap smell. “If I’m going to stay up the
rest of the night working, I am definitely going to need some coffee. Want
some?”

“Sure,” I said, turning away to peruse the posters on the
walls so Olivia wouldn’t see me grin. For once the traffic up US-1 hadn’t been
backed up; we’d gotten from Lost Weekend to Olivia’s place in less than twenty
minutes. I heard her moving around in the kitchen, her bare feet barely making
a sound on the tile. “OK Go, Depeche Mode, The Killers, Nine Inch Nails…”

“It’s not only local shows I go to,” Olivia called from the
kitchen; but there were local posters on the wall, displayed just as proudly as
the big name acts: Upper Class Trash, The Band in Heaven, The Mission Veo, The
Darling Sweets, Deaf Poets and more. I heard a beep and then the puffing,
churning, gurgling sound of coffee brewing.

“Did you really want to just watch me work? That’s sure to
be pretty boring,” Olivia said. I looked over my shoulder and then turned
around. I shrugged.

“I really just wasn’t ready to let you out of my sight,” I
admitted.

“Nick, I’m not going to just sleep with you,” Olivia told
me, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m not here expecting you to jump me,” I said, holding my
hands up. “Coffee, conversation, and at the end of the night I’ll call Jules or
someone. Or catch a Lyft.”

“As long as you’re not going to start some shit at the
magazine for me not sleeping with you,” Olivia said doubtfully. I laughed.

“Because it’d be great for my reputation to go around
telling people that I couldn’t talk my way into a girl’s pants?”

“Obviously you wouldn’t bitch about me that obvious way,”
Olivia said defensively. “But like…”

“But like, I could call up your editor and say you were
unprofessional or some shit like that?” Olivia hesitated for a second and then
nodded. “And then everyone would know that the only reason I’d do something
like that is because you wouldn’t put out, and that’d be the same thing as
calling up to say ‘that bitch wouldn’t get in bed with me, you should fire
her.’” I shook my head. “I’m not that stupid. Even if I was that mean, and I’m
not that mean.” Olivia bit her bottom lip and looked at me speculatively for a
moment longer.

“Okay,” she said finally, exhaling in a short, sharp burst.

“I get that you have to be careful,” I said with a little
grin. “You’re cute, and you’re trying to get ahead. Everyone’s going to be
looking to talk shit.”

“You’re right about that,” Olivia said, turning and walking
back into the kitchen. I followed her.
You keep saying you don’t want to
sleep with me. I think you’re protesting too much.
“Do you want cream and
sugar, or do you take your coffee black?” Olivia started as she turned quickly
and saw me only a few feet away.

“Black is fine,” I told her. I saw the quick rush of blood
into her face, the way her eyes widened. I felt my lips twitch but managed to
keep myself from grinning at that little confirmation of what was on my mind.

Olivia turned away from me towards the fridge. She pulled
out a carton of milk, and I hung back and watched her bustle around, grabbing
mugs, pouring the coffee with a surprisingly steady hand. She was flustered,
but she was holding onto her composure as if it was life itself. A thought
crept up in my mind. “Why are you so nervous about me?” I leaned against the
counter.

“Nervous?” Olivia turned and looked up at me through her
dark eyelashes.

“Blushing, jumping…and you keep insisting that you’re never
going to have sex with me.”

“I didn’t say never,” Olivia said quickly, and the color
flooded into her face once more. She stirred her coffee so fast that some of it
slopped over the edge.

“You weren’t nervous like this around Dan, or Jules, or
Mark. Or Alex, for that matter, but he’s got a girlfriend so of course you
weren’t nervous around him.” I inched a little bit closer to her. “So I have to
wonder why you’re so flustered about me.”

“Nick, I think you know good and damned well the effect you
have on women,” she said, turning to face me fully. I could see the look of
doubt in her eyes, the way she was fighting with it. “So asking me why I’m
flustered around you…”

“The effect I have on women? Or the effect I’m having on
you?” I held her gaze. I could see the swell of her tits in the bottom of my
vision, the softness of her lips, the way the blush in her cheeks had begun
creeping downward onto her chest, just above the collar of her tee shirt.

“You know good and goddamned well that…” Olivia licked her
lips. “You’re fucking gorgeous. If you hadn’t decided on playing guitar, you’d
make a killing taking pictures for Armani, or Calvin Klein or somebody.” I saw
her hands tremble. “I doubt if you’ve ever had a single woman tell you no.”

“Not many,” I agreed with a little grin.

“So who the hell am I—I mean…how could I expect to make any
kind of impression on you?”

“You already have,” I said. I moved just a tiny bit closer,
so that we were almost touching; not quite, but almost. “Why do you think I
beggared my way into your apartment? If I was just out for an easy lay I could
have stayed at the bar, I could’ve had my pick.”

“That’s just it!” Olivia pulled back, until she almost
collided with the counter behind her. “You could have had your pick. Why are you—what
are you coming after me for? I’m not—I’m not the kind of person…” Olivia licked
her lips, and for maybe the tenth time that night I thought that if women knew
what that little flash of their tongue did to a man’s brain, they’d be way more
careful about it. “I don’t want to just be someone you fuck and forget. I don’t
want to be that to
anyone
.”

“I haven’t even kissed you,” I told her, pitching my voice
low. “I haven’t even kissed you and I can tell you I know I would never be able
to forget you.” For a second Olivia just stared at me, her eyes wide, her lips
parted just a fraction, looking like the most completely kissable woman on the
entire planet. “You
want
to fuck me, we both know it. You don’t want me
to forget you; I’m not going to.”

“How do you even expect me to believe that?” Olivia swayed
on her feet, like her body was torn between coming closer to me and running
away.

“Trust me,” I told her. “Just trust me. I could never forget
you, Olivia. If I’m not still right there in your bed next to you tomorrow
morning, sleeping like a fucking baby, then you can write that I’m the most
disgusting asshole in all of Florida.”

“You act like I wouldn’t do that with or without your
permission,” Olivia said, her voice breathless.

“So if I’m gone in the morning, do that,” I murmured. “I
won’t even argue. I’ll tell your editor that you’re completely and totally
right.” I brought my hands up slowly, letting them barely—barely—come to rest
at her waist. Olivia twitched, but didn’t try and break away.

“Can I get that in writing?” I chuckled.

“If you want me to put in writing that I’ll
never
leave your apartment without your permission, you’ll get it,” I told her.
Before she could say anything else, I closed the distance between us. I brushed
my lips against hers, just the tiniest little touch. I felt Olivia stir against
me, just enough to encourage me.

I deepened the kiss, pressing my lips against hers harder,
swiping my tongue against the soft, soft skin. I wrapped my arms around her
waist and pressed her back to the counter, my hips rubbing against her hips.
Olivia moaned softly, trembling just a little bit, and I let my hands start to
wander over her body, taking in the curves and lines of her by touch. I cupped
her tits, giving them as much of a squeeze as I dared, and god—god they felt
just like I’d thought they would, heavy and firm, barely fitting into my hands.

At first Olivia just gave into me; but in seconds we were
both pawing at each other all over, groping and touching. She was like a live
wire, like my favorite Epiphone in my hands. I slid my hand along her waist and
heard a little moan in her throat. I teased her nipple through the fabric of
her clothes and heard a gasp.
Just like a solo. Just like playing a solo…
I smiled against Olivia’s lips as I played her body, finding the notes by
touch. She shivered; she moaned, she cried out—a sexy little song to a tune
that only I knew how to play.

I pulled her away from the counter, and Olivia came along
with me, arching into every touch, twisting and moving to help me as I stripped
off the tee shirt and let it fall to the floor, as I reached around to her back
and unhooked the clasp on her bra. Her clothes and mine fell away bit by bit,
as Olivia started to get more and more into the moment. I could feel her
getting more turned on, heat building up in her body, sinking into me as we
made our way stumbling from the kitchen to the living room, and down the short
little hallway to her bedroom.

We stumbled through the door, and one of Olivia’s hands left
me for just a second. Light flashed on in the bedroom, and I pushed her towards
the bed, breaking away from her lips long enough to get an eyeful of her as she
fell amongst the blankets and sheets and pillows, looking up at me
breathlessly. “Fuck, Liv,” I said, my heart stuttering in my chest, my whole
body heating up at the sight of her almost completely naked right there in
front of me. I saw the spreading, darkened spot where she’d soaked through her
pink, lacy panties. “God, do you even know how hot you are?” The pink-red blush
that lit up her face and crept across her chest made her sexier than anything I
could even imagine; the way her boobs shook just a little bit from her landing
was enough to send a hot jolt right to my cock.

I climbed onto the bed on top of her, covering her body with
my own, and kissed her again. I reached down between her legs, and I could feel
the slightly sticky slickness of her fluids as I started to rub her through the
fabric of her panties. She was soaking—absolutely soaking wet, just how I’d
thought she’d be if I could ever get her to this point. I dropped my mouth down
along the column of her throat, kissing and nibbling at her sensitive skin.
Olivia shuddered and moaned, her hips moving in reaction to my touches, her
nipples barely brushing against my chest as she squirmed and writhed underneath
me.

I kissed her all over, hungry for her—for the sweet smell of
her perfume, the salt of her sweat on my tongue. Olivia was totally wrapped up
in the moment, touching me everywhere, exploring my back and shoulders, my
arms, my ribs, moving down until she came to the hard, hot rock that my cock
had become. I groaned as her fingers wrapped around me, as she started
slowly—oh god, so slowly—stroking me up and down. Her thumb rubbed the tip of
my cock in little circles, and I was almost gone right then and there. “What
are you doing to me, Liv?” My hips thrust into her touch like I was already
inside of her.

“Touching you,” she murmured breathlessly. “Just—just like
you’re touching me.” I chuckled, kissing her hard on the lips for just a second
before I started moving down her body with my mouth. I came to her chest and
looked up into her eyes as I wrapped my lips around one nipple and then the
other, sucking and licking until her hand on my shoulder tightened into a
viselike grip, and her hand on my cock almost went still, squeezing a little
harder but not hard enough to hurt.

I worshiped her tits for what felt like half an hour while I
teased her with my fingers, sliding underneath the fabric to come up against
her bare skin, slipping along her folds until I found her clit. We both worked
each other until we were shaking; I was so close to coming that I could taste
it, my nerves crackling with it. If I could play her like a guitar, she was turning
me into putty in her hands, working me until it seemed impossible for me to
hold out any longer.

“If you don’t stop torturing me,” Olivia said, panting and
gasping as she shivered underneath me, “then I will—tell the whole world you’re
like, one inch.” I laughed, looking down into her dark eyes.

“You’d be a fucking liar, and I’d prove it,” I told her. But
I pushed her hand away and tugged her panties down over her hips. I was more
than ready to finally get inside her—I didn’t want it; I needed it. I threw
Olivia’s panties over my shoulder without even looking, and the next moment I
was guiding my aching, throbbing cock up against her silky, slick folds. I
closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

When I thrust into her, I felt her muscles ripple around me—the
tightening, the resistance of her body. I gripped the sheets, holding back.
“Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good.” I breathed in slowly as I pushed deeper and
deeper inside of her, filling her up inch by inch. She was so tight, so wet and
so hot, and every time I moved inside of her even a little bit I felt her
muscles flex around me, rippling.

“Oh—oh God, you too, Nick…fuck!” I thrust the last little
bit inside of Olivia all at once, my hips colliding with hers. I had to be
still for a minute; if I moved, if I even breathed the wrong way, I’d come
right then and there.

But then, only a few seconds later, we were both moving
again; Olivia wrapped her thighs around me, pushing her hips down to meet my
thrusts, and her hands were all over me, touching and exploring. I kissed her
everywhere, keeping my pace as slow as I possibly could. I wanted to make it
last. I wanted to make Olivia come over and over again before I finished. I
wanted to hear her moans and cries go higher, louder, and feel her body
tightening down on me.