Crash Ride (8 page)

My head lowered into the glossy pages of whatever bride magazine I had been flicking through as I pushed a spoonful of
Chubby Hubby
into my mouth, and tried not to think about fact that Troy was only a few feet away.  Just through the doorway and down the hall. The ghost of him haunting me, I could almost
feel
his presence and
smell
the sex.

“Megs,” Troy’s husky voice startled me, almost making me choke on the spoon still in my mouth.

There he was. Like a conjured-up dirty dream. Except he wasn’t an apparition, instead he’d walked in, crouched beside me and rested his hand on my bare leg, all while I was blissfully unaware in my self-imposed oblivion.

The spoon was hastily removed from my mouth as I yanked it out. If I was going for seductive, I’d failed. “Oh. Hey, Troy Harris.” Quickly swallowing as I scrambled to my knees. Sure,
that
wasn’t a more compromising position.

He grinned as he wordlessly took the spoon from my hand and dug it into the pint of ice cream that sat on the coffee table. His hand brought the ice cream loaded spoon to his mouth and his lips closed around it. Hot. Oh hell.

He pulled the spoon from his mouth, with the seduction I hadn’t managed. The surface licked clean before scooping more ice cream. “You want some?” His smile widened as he held the spoon inches away from my lips and waited for my response.

“Yes.” It was almost moaned, the word clearly too difficult for me to speak. My mouth opened wide like a freak-show clown at a carnival, and he lowered the spoon inside. The ice cream spilled across my tongue that played against the cold metal. Delicious.

It had nothing to do with the ice cream. Just so we’re clear.

He slowly pulled the spoon from between my lips, my resistance making him grin.

He raised an eyebrow, “More?” Whatever he was offering, I most definitely wanted
more
of it. Every. Last. Drop.

“Dude, you ready to go?” Dan called from off in the distance, shattering my iced confectionary erotica. I could have wept at the loss.

Troy eyed me intently and then licked the spoon—the one that had just been in my mouth, God that was so fucking hot— and placed it beside the pint on the coffee table.

And like he hadn’t just mind-fucked me, he slowly rose to his feet, his lips curled into a sexy smile and he strode to the doorway. “See you later, Megs.” He waved as my eyes stayed glued to his sexy ass as he walked away.

He didn’t even look back. Just left me there. Frustrated. And it had nothing to do with my so-called man drought, and everything to do with him. I wanted him. I. Was. In. So. Much. Trouble. I seemed to be saying that a lot lately.

“Alrighty. Boys are gone!” Ash cheerily bound into the room carrying her own pint of goodness. Ice cream would never be the same again. “So, I’m ready to make fun of all these crazy wedding dresses while feeding my face.” She giggled as she slunk down onto the floor beside me. “Hey, what’s wrong? You look weird.”

Weird? Or sexually frustrated? It was a fine line. In either case it was not a conversation I wanted to be having. “I’m fine.” I lied as I picked up the same bridal magazine I had been flipping through when Troy had waltzed it. Not that my brain connected with the pictures that were in front of me. It was all a blur.

Ash joined me, picking up her copy of
bride-something
monthly and I forced my head to nod in all the right places as she pointed out dresses. My mind was M.I.A.

Right. So what were my chances of being able to stay away from Troy Harris? Slim to none at best. Not great odds. So, maybe one more time? Yes, just one more time and then I’ll stop. Promise. At least that’s what I told myself.

Denial. It wasn’t just a river in Egypt.

Recipe of disaster. That’s
what last night had been. Just because shit hadn’t gone pear shaped didn’t mean given half a chance it wouldn’t. Did I want to go there again? Abso-fucking-lutely.

My head was not in the game, pretty sure it was on the smokin’ hot blonde who’d walked out my door this morning. My dick got instantly hard just thinking about her, which given the amount of times I blew my load in the last twenty-fours was ridiculous. How she was still walking this morning was also a mystery. I hadn’t been gentle.

“Hey, asshole, you channeling your inner Don Johnson?” Dan’s face scanned the length of my new ride as we entered the undercover garage. “Fuck… Miami Vice just threw up all over this car.”

“Don Johnson drove a Ferrari not a Lamborghini, douchebag.” My morning had been busy. Impulse shopping wasn’t usually my thing. I’d survived my thirty-two years without a set of Ginsu knives or an Ab-Cruncher. Then again, I’d never needed the distraction.

“Magnum P.I.?”

“Ferrari.”

“So you just woke up and decided to buy a car?” His mitt hit the handle and raised the scissor door on the passenger side. The action repeated by me on the driver’s side.

“I wanted to go fast.” More like needed the rush. The junkie high from Dr. Winters wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. It was a substitution. My hands fisted the steering wheel as I slid into the seat.

“This thing is a fucking dinosaur. Did they run out of new Lamborghinis?” His ass sunk into black leather seat.

“The Countach is a classic, show some motherfucking respect.” New cars weren’t my style and I had a thing for the classics. This one came in the form of a wedge-shaped aircraft-grade aluminum sports car with a V12 that sounded like Armageddon. My latest throw-back was going to be leaving one hell of a carbon footprint, best start planting trees or some shit to try and even the score. My boot kicked the gas pedal, the rev of the engine reverberated off the garage walls. Fuck that. The environment had no hope.

“Mike Lowry. Bad Boys 2.” Dan snapped his fingers, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Still a Ferrari.”

“Fuck it. Just drive this fucking thing and don’t kill us.” Dan buckled his seatbelt and thankfully shut his mouth. Not that I was worried about him flapping his gums, the roar of the engine would drown anything out.

The session tonight had been my saving grace. A last minute addition to the album, and we were skating pretty close to the wire on production time. It was either record it now or forever hold our peace. James wanted a song included and had floated the suggestion. Everyone gave the nod, so Casa Bowden is where we would be kicking it for the evening. Fucking brilliant because hitting the skins is exactly what I needed. Help me work out some of this shit I had looping around in my head. Not going there.

Megs being at Dan’s was unexpected. My plans had been simple, pick up the douchebag, get in the car and leave— things hadn’t worked out that way. Ash casually mentioned that Megs was in the living room and I suddenly got very interested in saying hi.

It would’ve been rude to not at least stick my head in, considering she’d spent the night in my guest room the night before. All about appearances, right? What was the harm?

Seeing Megs splayed out on the living room floor was like a punch in the balls. Yep, I was a goner. Let’s blame it on impulse, or the fact all the blood from my brain had drained into my cock, but all I could think about were those sweet fucking lips and owning that mouth. That shit we had spoken about, being friends and
not
fucking, yeah that went right out the window. So maybe licking her spoon was playing dirty, but I didn’t give a fuck. What I did care about was making my intentions clear, and I wasn’t subtle about it.

Megs and I, that shit was not over.

We pulled in along Jason’s Mustang and ejected from the Lambo. The drive had been pleasurable even if the occasional conversation interjected wasn’t.

“I swear, dude. The vibrations in that car when you drive—you could jerk off with no hands.” A sample of what I had to endure.

We walked in, said our hellos and got down to business. Getting the track laid down was the priority, getting Megs off my mind, an added bonus.

“Hey man, you wanna go over that last bit again? It sounds kind of tired.” Alex stopped mid strum, the new song not sounding right.

“It’s missing something.” James ran his hands through his hair. “The verse is okay but the chorus fucking blows.”

“I don’t think it’s the lyrics, dude,” Jase added to the mix. “I think it’s the timing. It’s too slow.”

“You know my feelings on this,” Dan piped in. “Every song should be faster.”

“We’re not playing death metal you tool.” Alex threw a guitar pick at Dan.

“Don’t be jealous, asshole, it’s not my fault I can play faster than you.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Does your future wife know she’s marrying a child?”

Dan’s claim was laughable at best, just yanking Alex’s chain like he always did. Usually the back and forth amused the hell out of me. Tonight, not so much.

Before Dan had a chance to respond, I picked up my sticks and started playing the chorus again. This time faster on the snare and giving the double kick a little more love. Beside the obvious benefit of drowning out any further bitching, it released some of the tension I’d been feeling.

What came out was aggressive but catchy as fuck. Jase was right; it was a timing issue. Sped up, it sounded amazing.

“That’s wicked, dude.” James grabbed the mic off the stand, his excitement almost as big as his grin. “Play it again, exactly like that. Alex…”

“On it.” Alex turned up his amp and sped up the tempo. His fingers owned the fret board as he moved through the complicated progression. The smug watch-me-shred-like-a-demon look he shot Dan wasn’t missed by anyone either. Jase snorted a laugh, punching Dan in the arm before they both joined in and rounded out the sound. It was magic.

James was more excited than a kid on Christmas morning as we hit record. The track was cut and polished a few hours later. And while my poor DW kit took the mother of all poundings, at least I wasn’t thinking about the pint-size blonde who’d been dominating my thoughts and making my cock stir.

It was late by the time we made it back to the apartment, and Megs would for sure be tucked up in her bed at home. That piece of information both pissed me off ’cause it meant not seeing her, and made thankful as fuck my torture session for one day was over. It was a fifty-fifty split.

The minute I walked through my front door, I pulled off my boots, tossing my keys on my kitchen counter before I stripped off my T-shirt and socks. It was easier to dump my gear in the laundry on the way through, so I peeled off my jeans and boxers as well and walked to my bedroom, naked.

The place was dark but the layout had been permanently locked away in my brain so I didn’t bother hitting the lights. Instead I navigated through the hall, allowing my eyes to readjust. This was a journey I’d made a million times — sometimes drunk, sometimes sober, and sometimes with a girl around my waist. Yeah, only one girl I was interested in at the moment and we were not going there. My dick showed interest even though there was no prospect of that happening. Not like I blame him.

By the time I’d reached my bedroom, I was seriously contemplating skipping the shower and collapsing into bed. Not like I couldn’t get one in the morning. Who the fuck cared that I smelled like last week’s gym socks? The sooner my eyes closed, the sooner I would stop this fucked up fantasy I had. The fantasy where I call Megs and tell her to get her sexy little ass over here, and let her ride me until the sun comes up. If my cock wasn’t complete awake before, he was sure as hell taking notice now. My hand was tempted to reach down and at least give myself some relief.

“Holy fuck!” My voice bounced off my black bedroom walls, yelling a little louder than I’d meant to, My eyes shut and then reopened just to confirm it wasn’t some fucked up optical illusion that I was looking at as a naked and shocked Megs shot up in my bed, pulling the sheets up around her.

“Is this some crazy fucking dream?” My hand raked through my mohawk. Hadn’t it been like two minutes ago I’d wished for this very thing? If I’d somehow managed to score three wishes or some shit, they could keep the other two. Megs, in my bed, more than enough for me.

“Shit, Megs. I didn’t mean to scare you.” I moved closer to the bed. Not sure if her look of surprise was over the fact I’d yelled or the fact I was standing there naked with a hard-on.

“Hey, Troy Harris.” Her eyes dipped down to my cock. “I was waiting for you to get home.” She gave me an appreciative smile when she saw that part of me was already good to go.

There were a million important questions I should’ve asked. Starting with “how did you get in?” You know how many I asked? Zero. I didn’t give a fuck if she picked my locks or teleported into my bedroom. What I did care about was the fact we were both naked, alone and still not getting busy. “Come here.” I ripped the sheets off my bed and exposed her beautiful body. She was so fucking perfect.

She gasped but I didn’t buy into that shy bullshit as she moved off the bed and strode over to me. She opened her mouth to talk, not sure whether it was to explain or something else, but I claimed her mouth before she had the chance. All that crap we spoke about last night, about the one-time deal? I was no longer on board. From the looks of things, neither was she. Good, ’cause while that bullshit made all kinds of sense, as far as I was concerned, it was still fucking bullshit.

Her arms wrapped around my neck as our kiss deepened. Never in a million years had I thought
this
was what I’d be coming home to. Hell, had I known, I might’ve blown off the whole recording session. I palmed her ass and lifted her onto me. She was all about it and wrapped her legs around my waist, little whimpers escaping her mouth as I kissed her. My mouth was too busy to ask, so I made an executive decision and carried her to my bathroom. Last night’s shower might have been relatively tame but that was not going to get a repeat performance tonight.

“Troy,” she moaned as pushed her against the cold tiled wall. Her hands travelled down the length of my chest.

“You want me to stop?” My mouth moved down her neck, kissing her naked skin. It was going to take a hell of a lot of restraint to stop right now, so I prayed she wasn’t going to tell me to put the brakes on.

“Don’t stop. I want this. I want you.” Her tits heaved up and down as she sucked in a breath.

I pulled her body back against me and into the shower stall. Our lips and hands busy with each other as I turned the faucet and let the cold water hit our skin. It was like a million needles poked us simultaneously but even that wasn’t enough to stop us, my skin on fire with fucking need. Megs unwrapped her legs and slithered down my body, giving me a free hand to adjust the water temperature.

She sunk to her knees in front of me, her hands pushing me against the shower wall as her tongue trailed down my abs to my cock. She smiled as she licked the ring, her tongue swirling around the head of my dick. My hands fisted her hair as she took me into her mouth, her blue-green eyes looking up at me as she sucked me hard. It was more than I could stand.

I pulled my dick from her mouth and joined her on the floor of the shower. She protested until my tongue flicked her nipple and then she arched her back and let me do whatever I wanted. What I wanted was to put my mouth on every part of her. My teeth gently teased her pink peak while I snaked my hand down between her legs. She lowered herself down onto her ass and gave me better access. Fucking amazing. Her legs spread and my fingers teased her clit. She was wet and not from the water that was raining down on us from the showerhead.

She reached out and grabbed my shaft, her tight hand moving up and down my length while my fingers rubbed circles around the opening of her pussy. I plunged two fingers inside her; Megs’s grip around me —both her pussy around my fingers and her hand on my cock— tightened.

I wanted to be deep inside her but with the closest condom in the nightstand, my hand and tongue were going to have to be the only parts that got that pleasure. The other part, the one that was about to blow its load into her hand, would sink into her the minute we were out of the shower and suited up in latex.

We didn’t talk; moans seemed all we were capable of as our hands got each other off. I was torn between wanting to watch her get worked up with my fingers moving in and out of her sweet pussy, or watching her jerk me off, both had its benefits. Her back arched toward my hand and I knew that she was close, I was trying to hold off, wanting it to last just a little longer. It felt so fucking good. In the end, biology took over and my mouth slammed down on hers as we both came hard on the floor of the shower stall.