Getting Hot (Jail Bait Book 3) (14 page)

Chapter 20

Lilah

Lo is crushing it and everyone is on their feet. One second I’m rocking out and the next, the fat guy to my left bounces right into me. I go flying and I find myself in Bran’s arms. Pressed against his chest. His biceps ripple as his hands lock over my hips. He pulls me against him so we each have a knee between the other’s, and his gaze melts me as he starts so sway to the rhythm.

All of a sudden, I’m standing five inches from the sun. I feel every hard ridge of Bran’s ripped body pressed against me. I feel his hands glide to my ass and pull me tighter against his leg. And
god
, that leg. It’s steel between my thighs, rubbing on my most sensitive spot and forcing my breath to catch. I close my eyes and feel my breathing go ragged. And when my lips part in a gasp that’s swallowed by the pound of the music and the roar of the crowd as they woot for my best friend, Bran takes the invitation. His mouth closes over mine, insistent and unyielding, taking what he needs from me. And I give him that and more.

Our first kiss rocked my world. Our second knocked it off its axis. This one is going to blow it apart.

I claw at him, because there’s suddenly no way I can get close enough. His mouth on mine goes from desperate to ravenous and he grasps my ass harder. I grind myself against his leg and drop my head back and gasp again, louder this time, as I feel my world coming apart all around me.

He knows just how to play me and I realize I’m going to come right here in the middle of a crowded television studio with my best friend tearing the place down.

The song ends and the place erupts in applause, but I barely notice because I’m crying out for an entirely different reason. It occurs to me I’m going to hate myself in just about five minutes when I realize A) I missed most of Lo’s performance and B) All I care about right this second is fucking my sister’s…boyfriend? Or is he just a prospect? She told me she doesn’t love him. But she thinks she needs to provide me with stability, and Bran is her plan to do that.

All I know is that every time I catch him watching me play at the bar, despite my heart beating a little faster, I feel lightheaded. I can’t concentrate and my fingers sometimes forget what they’re supposed to be doing on the strings. I’ll blank on the lyrics to a song I’ve sung a thousand times.

I wrote the song Shiloh just sung because he made me feel like everything wasn’t shit. Looking forward to seeing him is what made my life “More than Nothing.” He messes with my head and twists my body into knots. He makes me feel electric with the slightest touch. I don’t know if that’s love, but I
do
know no one’s ever done those things to me before.

And sure as hell, no one’s ever made me come with their thigh pressed between my legs. But as I gasp out his name, sparks flash behind my closed eyelids.

The applause dies down and Bran lowers my Jell-O body into my seat as everyone begins to sit. When I glance at the guy on my other side, he’s grinning at me.

The coaches are commenting on Lo’s performance and I try to focus. Adam jabs at Blake that he can’t win them all and they agree that that song will make Lo tough to beat.

Bran lifts my hand from where it rests on my thigh and the press of warm, rough skin against mine as he folds my hand into his sends a flood of heat through me.

I like Bran way more than I should…for a lot of reasons. I have to tell him the truth.

The rest of the show passes in a blur and I’m so wound up that I don’t even realize my phone is buzzing as we navigate the crush of bodies out of the studio. I pull it from my pocket, expecting Destiny, but it’s Lo.

I yank Bran to the side and answer. “Oh my god, Lo! You crushed it!”

“Because of you!” she squeals. “Did you hear Blake and Adam? They loved your song!”

“Do you have time? Can I see you?”

“No, Li. We’re in the car on the way to the hotel already. But you have to stay for the results tomorrow. I need you here either way. There are tickets with your name on them at Will Call.”

I cringe and look at Bran. “I got a ride from a friend, Lo. I can’t stay.”

Bran squints a question at me and mouths, “She wants you to stay?”

I nod.

“Then we’ll stay,” he says.

My heart beats out of rhythm at the thought of staying overnight in L.A. with Bran. Lo’s voice draws me back to the phone. “Li? You still there?”

“My ride is okay with staying, but I have to check in with Destiny.”

“Thank you!” she screeches. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll text you tomorrow with all the details.”

On the way to the parking structure, I call Destiny and she says she’s fine with me staying as long as Bran’s looking after me. When we reach his car, the anticipation is choking me. It never occurred to me that we’d be staying in L.A. overnight. If Bran gets a room, my choices are to share it with him or sleep alone in his car. It’s clear from the way I ache low in my belly remembering what he just did to me in the studio, that if my body got a vote, I’d be sleeping in Bran’s bed tonight.

But I can’t do that to my sister.

He clicks the lock. “How do you want to play this?”

I look at him and realize he’s thinking about the logistics too. But his smoldering gaze leaves little doubt what he hopes my answer will be. “I can’t afford a room.”

“I’ve got it covered,” he says, sliding into the car.

I lower myself into his passenger seat. “I didn’t bring fresh clothes for tomorrow.”

“So you want to head home?”

I think about that and my heart turns to stone. I can’t leave when Lo is so close. “No.”

Without another word, he pulls out of the garage and heads back the way we came, toward the highway. We’re quiet as he drives. I don’t know about him, but I’m too nervous to talk without my voice cracking. All I can think about is what’s going to happen when this car stops and Bran gets me alone in a hotel room. He passes a few nicer looking hotels and pulls into a small parking lot in front of a two-story building near the entrance ramp to the highway. There’s a big neon sign on top that says MOTEL. Under it is a smaller lit half moon.

We take the last parking spot and walk into the motel office.

“You got a room available?” Bran asks as he approaches the desk.

The guy nods. “One left.” He glances at me, then back at Bran. “It’s a king.”

“What’s the rate?” Bran asks, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket.

“One thirty plus tax.”

Bran nods and flips a card out of his wallet. “One night.”

The clerk gets us checked in and hands Bran two keycards. Bran lays his hand on the small of my back and guides me out the door and toward the stairs up from the parking lot to the second floor. He slides the card through the lock and opens the door onto a room that looks clean enough, but what holds my attention is the big king size bed taking up most of the space.

He steps through and closes the door, and the next second I’m wrapped in his arms. He hasn’t forgotten where we left off at the studio, apparently, because his kiss is demanding and leaves no doubt where this is headed. And when my T-shirt passes over my head, my theory is confirmed. Just behind it, my bra hits the floor. And then he’s got my jeans undone and over my hips before I even have time to think.

So I don’t. I just go with the sensations that are sweeping over me and pulling me under.

I kick my jeans off and Bran lowers me onto the bed. He’s still fully dressed and there’s something totally hot about him holding that power over me. His mouth starts a slow exploration of my neck and shoulders, then his lips circle my breast before his tongue glides over the nipple, pricking it into a hard nub. When he blows gently on the wet tip it sends a rush skittering over my skin and I press my head back and arch against his mouth, needing it on me again.

He finds my other nipple and his teeth graze over it, sending shockwaves through me straight to my groin. My body must be an open book, because as he slides up and kisses my mouth again, slow and deep, one hand glides down my hip and comes to rest over my panties, cupping me. His fingers press between my legs as he grinds his palm against my clit. I gasp and arch up again.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans against my mouth.

“I want you,” I say, my voice so thick with need and desire I barely recognize it.

He draws back and examines my face with hooded eyes. “You tell me that and I’m not going to stop, Lilah. I’ve wanted to fuck you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

I lay my arms to the side and spread my legs, opening myself up to him fully. “Then fuck me.”

A devilishly heart-stopping half smile curves his mouth before it’s on mine again. He kisses down my body, his hands and mouth stopping briefly to pay homage to my breasts, before moving lower. He drags the tip of his tongue along the waistband of my underwear, then seals his mouth over my clit, sucking me through the thin cotton. It’s only a minute before he has me clawing at the sheets and crying out, so close to coming. But before I do, he kneels between my legs and looks down at me like a wolf at his fresh kill. He divests me of my last shred of clothing, then takes each of my feet and rests the arches on his shoulders, opening my knees. I am totally on display for him and if I was wet before, I’m gushing now.

He slicks a finger over my clit, then sinks it deep inside me and twists. The next stroke, another finger joins it, and God, he knows what he’s doing. With just his touch, I feel on the edge of exploding. My hips start moving to his rhythm and his gaze becomes fierce and animal as he watches his fingers fuck me. But again, just when he has me on the edge of coming, he stops and trails his wet fingertips down the inside of my thigh. That devil’s smile paints his face again as he slips them into his mouth and sucks my juices off of them.

I close my eyes as every muscle south of my waist contracts hard.

“You like that?” he asks, his voice the growl of the wolf he’s become.

“Yes,” I say, opening my eyes and finding his.

He slips his shirt over his head and all his cut, tattooed glory is right there in front of me—a masterpiece I never expected to be able to touch. He flicks open the button of his jeans and when he pushes them down his hips, along with his boxers, his enormous erection springs free, like a beast uncaged.

I trail my toes down his torso and glide them along his hard length. His eyes widen in surprise and he holds his breath and moves his hips to my rhythm when I start to toe fuck him.

But then he growls and the next second all of his two hundred and thirty pounds are on top of me. I’m so wet that he glides right into me without any resistance, despite the fact that he’s stretching me nearly to pain. I grab his ass and spread wide as he rams into me, over and over, each thrust accompanied by a grunt or a growl. We’ve become pure animal, pure instinct, needing only the physical. I’m crying out, not words but primal sounds I didn’t even know I was capable of. I rock my hips against him with each thrust, harder and deeper than the one before. It’s only a few minutes later that I topple over the edge and come harder than I ever have, mewling loudly with my release. He gives one last thrust and then pulls out, coming a river across my stomach.

I don’t know what I was doing with Tyrell, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.

He gives an intense whole-body shudder before dropping onto his back next to me, panting. “Fuck me,” he groans. “I’ve never come that fast in my life.”

“I inspire you.”

He stares at the ceiling and shakes his head. “You sure as hell do
something
to me.” His gaze turns to mine. “And just so you know, next time I’m going to take my time and make you come so many times you lose count.”

The swollen lips between my legs throb with the thought that there’s going to be a “next time.” And on the heels of that thought is Destiny. She’s working her ass off for me while I’m fucking the man she wants. A man who’s fucked her too.

Ants crawl under my skin and I push up from the bed and lock the bathroom door. I clean myself off then sit on the toilet with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands.

What am I doing? There are so many reasons why what I just did was wrong. Destiny is only one of them.

I needed to tell Bran the truth before things went too far.

But here we are, too far. And it’s too late.

Chapter 21

Bran

For the first time in my life, I don’t mind not sleeping. I lay in bed and listen to Lilah breathe. When she first came back from the bathroom, she was a little distant, and I was afraid I’d hurt her. But then I realized.

Destiny.

She’s feeling guilty, and I guess that shouldn’t be a surprise. I give her some space and she curls onto her side with her back to me. But it’s only a few minutes before she rolls to face me.

She reaches for me and trails a finger along the grooves of my pecs. “I don’t know what I’m doing. In my head, I know we shouldn’t have done that, but I want to do it again.”

That’s all I have to hear. I pull her on top of me and before she ever touches me, I’m hard as stone. She lifts her hips and sinks slowly down my length, and she’s so wet and so fucking tight that I’m afraid of breaking my promise to make this one last.

She leans down so those spectacular tits press against my chest and whispers, “I’m on the pill.”

I sink my fingers into her hips and thrust hard into her. She gasps and buries her face in my neck. I pump to her rhythm as she grinds against me, taking special care to make sure I hit her clit with each thrust. Her breathing gets ragged and her cries become more feral, and when she comes a few minutes later, she bites down hard on my shoulder.

I flip her onto her back before she’s even done screaming and go down on her, sucking her swollen clit hard into my mouth. When I graze it with my teeth, she screams again, and then again when I swirl the tip of my tongue over it and suck. Her hands grab my head and she grinds hard against my face, and her cum is like honey on my tongue.

Once I’ve lapped it all up, I kneel between her legs and drape her knees over my thighs. She’s every fucking thing I knew she’d be, and together, we’re fireworks. I give her a minute to catch her breath before my fingers and mouth start a full exploration. I want to know what every inch of her body tastes like.

By the time I roll her on her stomach and sink my steel cock balls deep inside her, she’s come twice more. I pump hard into her, my hand playing her clit until she’s screaming again. And when I feel her convulse under me, I thrust deep and unload into her.

I collapse onto the bed next to her, breathing hard. It’s minutes later that I have my breath back, and I realize I’m half asleep when I hear a whispered, “I love you,” so blurry and muffled in the pillow that I could have imagined it.

Because, Christ, I want to hear it.

She doesn’t move again, and I listen as her breathing slows. Her smell, warm vanilla, is on my skin. The taste of her nectar is still in my mouth. She’s long and lean and tanned, her platinum hair fanned over the pillow and half covers her face where she passed out facedown after I ravaged her. The inferno of our sex is evidenced in the pink of her skin and the twist of the sheets around my torso and legs.

This is the perfect moment.

I close my eyes and just live in it for as long as I can.

♫

An agonized cry rips through the still of the room and I bolt out of bed, instantly looking through the faint pink of the morning light through the open curtains for the threat. It takes me a second to get my bearings, and when I do, I realize for the first time in years, it was Lilah’s nightmare that woke me instead of my own.

She’s panting and her hair is stuck to her face with sweat, but she’s not fully awake.

I brush her hair back. “Lilah?”

She moans, the sound of a wounded animal, then cries out and bolts to a sitting position, nearly knocking heads with me. She looks at me with frightened, unfocused eyes and shoves me back. “No!”

“Lilah,” I say again, keeping my voice low. “It’s me, Bran.”

Her eyes finally seem to focus. “Bran?”

I pull her to my chest. “You’re okay. Everything’s okay.” I know they’re meaningless words, but I also know firsthand there’s nothing I can really do to dispel her demons. They leave when they’re good and ready.

I lay back and bring her with me. Her head is on my chest and I stroke her hair as she slowly comes down from the nightmare.

“If you ever need to talk about it…” I say, but leave the thought there for her to pick up if she wants.

She doesn’t, and I’m not offended. I’d never presume to push her to relive her nightmare and think that’s really going to help. We all have things that are better kept locked away in the pits of our souls.

Just when I think she’s falling asleep again, she lifts her head and kisses the scruff under my jaw. “I don’t want to go back to sleep.”

I pull her closer and kiss her, and her hand finds my flaccid cock. She strokes and only a few seconds later, I’m hard and ready.

I flip us and pin her under me, then sink myself into her. “Did you say what I think you said last night?”

She looks up at me, all sex and desire. “That depends on what you think I said.”

I pump slowly, feeling her along my entire length. I can’t stop the shudder when her fingertips glide over my back and settle on my ass.

I seat myself fully inside her and stop. “Say it again.”

Her eyes flash. “What?”

I start moving, deeper, but still agonizingly slowly. She responds by arching into me and digging her fingers into my flesh.

I pull her hands off my ass and lock my fingers through hers, pinning the backs of her hands to the mattress on either side of her head. “Say it.”

A wicked smile teases the corners of her mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I thrust harder and she rocks against me, closes her eyes and moans. I seal my mouth over hers to capture the sound of her lust. Her legs part wider, giving me everything, and her heels dig into my ass, pulling me deeper.

I fuck her slowly and thoroughly, and when she’s right on the edge of falling to pieces under me, I stop. “Say it.”

“No!” she cries, thrusting her hips upward against mine and grinding. “God, no,” she pants. “Don’t stop.”

I let go of her hands and hold her face, forcing her to see me. “Say what you said last night.”

Her eyes flash white fire into mine. “I love you.”

I smile and glide my hands between the mattress and her ass, lifting her. I fuck her hard and deep, giving her everything I have, and when she comes a moment later, I let go and come with her.

I collapse on top of her. “Good,” I breathe in her ear. “Then I’m not in this alone.”

As we catch our breath, her stomach growls and I realize I haven’t fed her since lunch yesterday. I roll off her and grab my jeans from the floor. I look back from the door at her glowing, ravaged body. “Don’t move. I’ll be back.”

She gives me a sultry smirk as I shut the door. I jog half a block to the Starbucks I saw last night on the way in and I grab some coffees and a bag of pastries. When I come back, Lilah’s in the shower.

And, fuck me, just thinking about her in there has me hard again.

I down half my coffee and bring hers with me into the bathroom, where I shuck my jeans onto the floor. I pull back the curtain and she’s wet and shimmering. A fucking goddess.

I fix her in my gaze. “I told you not to move.”

“And you think I’m just going to do what you say?” One eyebrow raises in a challenge. “Have you met me?”

A wave of pure elation forces a laugh rumbling up my throat. Fuck, that feels good, like shaking all the sludge in my soul loose. It has to be high school, the last time I felt this unburdened.

“Coffee?” I ask, holding up her cup.

She steps out of the water and her eyes skate over me as she takes it from my hand. They stop on my raging boner. “How many times can you go?”

I blow out a laugh. “Apparently, when it comes to you, there’s no limit.”

I step into the shower and watch her long throat move as she takes a swallow of her coffee. She hands it back to me and I take a drink before setting it on the counter. I close the curtain and she pulls me into the water, against her slick body. She loops her arms around my neck and spreads her knees over my hips when I lift her by the ass and lower her onto my stiff cock.

“How many times have you gone before?” she asks, grinding her hips and driving me fucking nuts.

I pull my face out of her neck and look at her. “You really want to talk about this?”

She nods. “What’s your record?”

I turn us and press her back against the tile, driving myself into her. “We’ve already shattered that.”

“So less than four,” she muses.

“One,” I say with my next thrust. “Or maybe two, but that was back in high school.”

She draws back and looks me in the eyes. “Why only once?”

I fight to hold her gaze. She deserves to know what I am. Or was…until I found her. “With the others, it was just a fuck. Once it was over, I was over them. They left, I usually never saw them again, end of story.”

She nods and grinds her hips against mine. “How many girls?”

“Christ, Lilah. You really want to do this now?”

She grips my shoulders tighter and rides me to the tip and back down to the root, grinding hard against me. “I can’t think of anytime better. How many?”

When my cock pulses inside her, I realize having this conversation balls deep inside her is kind of hot. “Maybe a hundred.”

“That’s a lot,” she says, bracing her back against the tile for leverage and pumping harder.

“What about you? How many?”

“One.”

I thrust deep. “Four’s a record for you too, then.”

“I meant one guy.” She kisses me. “Two now.” I know my shock is plain on my face when she laughs. “Sorry if I didn’t have an endless stream of barflies to keep me company.”

I start fucking her in earnest, hard and deep. “It wasn’t company I was looking for. It was a distraction.”

She stops moving and looks at me. “From the nightmares.”

I nod.

She kisses me again and our mouths stay locked as we give into every base desire we feel for each other. I’m so deep inside her I feel like I’m taking root somewhere in her soul, and with each desperate thrust, she’s climbing a little deeper into mine.

After we come, she tips her head back against the tile and breathes, “Why am I any different?”

I wrap her so tightly in my arms I nearly crush her. “Because you’re the one who made them go away.”

♫

Lilah’s sweaty palm is pressed against mine as the show comes back from commercial and the stage lights flash. The suspense music cues and Spit and Polish says it’s time to find out which of our four finalists is The Voice. Shiloh and the three others stand in the spotlights, trying to look like they’re not flipping out. He announces fourth place, then third. Neither are Shiloh.

With each name, Lilah’s grip tightens. When I look at her, she’s stone, not even blinking, but I can feel her tremor.

“And then there were two,” Spit and Polish says, exaggeratedly slowly, dragging out every syllable. “Essie Franklin, Shiloh Luck, one of you
is
The Voice.” He pauses a moment while the cheers drown out the dramatic background music. “It’s time to find out who it is!” He backs away, giving center stage to the contestants. “The winner of The Voice is…”

One second.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

“Oh, God,” Lilah whimpers from beside me. I glance at her and her head is bowed, her eyes pressed tightly shut.

“Shiloh Luck!” Spit and Polish bellows.

As the building erupts in applause, Lilah’s legs collapse and she drops into chair, her face in her hands.

I lower myself to my seat and pull her into my arms. “Congrats.”

She yanks her head up, panic filling her eyes. “It’s my song.”

“That’s good, right?”

She nods and stands, staring at her friend as Spit and Polish babbles some nonsense over the roar of the crowd. “It’s awesome…and scary.”

I pull her to my shoulder again and she shakes in my arms. Spit and Polish is still talking, and I catch a few words. “Two seasons in a row….sixteen-year-old winners…youngest ever…”

As his words sink through my consciousness and I really hear them, that warning buzz starts under my skin…the same one I felt every time I was in the field in Afghanistan. My internal alarm system. I peel Lilah off me and look at her face, tears caught in the corners of those silver eyes.

“Shiloh’s sixteen?” I ask, the buzz turning to the crackle of an electric fence.

The shocked elation on her face drops instantly into dread, and her panicked eyes widen. “I wanted to tell you…I meant to, but…” She trails off with a cringe.

“
You’re
sixteen…” I say, my lungs constricting so hard almost no sound comes out.

When I get no answer except an apologetic squint, I drop into my seat and scrub a hand over my face. I just spent all night fucking a sixteen-year-old’s brains out. “Jesus Christ.”