Just Breathe (20 page)

Stop it.
He squeezed his lids shut.

No. Today was about Zoe and him. Scarlet wasn’t invited.

With a concentrated effort, he wiped his mind clean and shoved the bitch out of the way to make room for the Water rising in his heart. In a few beats, Scarlet’s Fire submerged under the love, fidelity, and happiness bubbling up.

He heaved a sigh of relief.

His muse appeared in the doorway with two plates balanced on one arm and two glasses in the other hand. “Cold pizza and milk. Breakfast of the gods.”

She sat beside him on top of the covers and settled against the headboard. He caught a flash of white cotton underwear. She tugged his big shirt over the scars on her hips and crossed her legs at the ankles. Good enough to eat. And he wasn’t thinking about cold pizza.

When he didn’t move for a few seconds, she faced him and shoveled a slice into her grinning mouth. “Wha’?” she said around it, then bit off a hunk.

Amused by Zoe’s questionable choice of breakfast food, he nudged her with his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re eating that for brekky.”

“You were obviously never in a fraternity. Though, I figured this sort of meal would be passé for a rock star.”

Lip curled, he studied the hardened cheese and took a bite. Tasted like greased cardboard. He chewed and swallowed it anyway.

“Being a musician isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. Most of the time it’s heading across the country in a van full of smelly blokes, eating shitty fast food, and playing lots of video games.”

Though Just Breathe had done a few gigs here and there in the last couple of months, he hadn’t thought about a full-blown tour in ages. On-the-road living had its pitfalls, but he had plenty of fond memories of live shows with his mates.

Zoe laid the pizza on the plate. “You miss your music? Getting out on the road?”

“I do. But things are different now. Rehearsals are rushed. It’s been a bit…tense.” Another contributing factor to his ongoing malaise in Realis. Lack of normalcy.

Before he met Zoe, he’d settled into a routine of banging girls, binge drinking, and playing shows for screaming fans. The groupies and drinking, he couldn’t care less about anymore. But the music? The Dreaming had cut him off from that comfortable part of his life, the thread that anchored him to reality. More Water he really could have used right now.

Bring music back to the Dreaming,
Yileen had said.

If only.

Zoe smiled. “I love your music. You can play for me any time.”

Singing to her on stage before a couple thousand people in Brisbane was totally different than serenading her alone in his bedroom would be. The emotions from the last two weeks were still too raw. And it would be beyond hypocritical, pouring his heart out to Zoe with Scarlet inside him, reveling in her victory over his Fire.

“Maybe someday.”

She finished the rest of her pizza and washed it down with the entire glass of milk.

“Fucking hell, you eat fast.”

“I study whales for a living. They enjoy taunting me by showing up when I’m starving. If I want lunch on the boat, I have to get it in three or four bites.”

“You can’t ask them to come back later?” He grinned at the thought of Zoe telling a whale to bugger off.

“Nah. Whales do things their way, in their own time. We’re pretty insignificant to them. It’s best to follow when they lead and be grateful to have had the opportunity.” She shrugged and pointed at his plate. “You gonna finish that?”

He snorted and handed over the hardened remains. “Have at it.”

“Can’t pass up day-old pizza. It’s sacrilege.” She dangled the half-eaten triangle above her mouth and dug in.

Cock stirring again, he licked his lips. “You slept on the lounge last night. I would’ve given you the bed.”

Awkward silence filled the space between them. If he could change one thing about being a Sentinel, he’d make it so she could dream as she slept beside him.

“That’s okay. You were exhausted and needed rest. I didn’t mind.” She slipped out of bed and kissed his cheek.

The scent of flowers followed her as she took the plates to the kitchen. Clunking ensued. The microwave dinged. A minute later, she returned with the makings for sundaes and spread everything out on the bedside table. Only one bowl.

She opened the lid on the tub of ice cream and dug some out. “I’m gonna show you how to make a real
American
hot fudge sundae.” She gestured at the bed with her spoon. “This could get messy.”

Intrigued, he sat up. “Messy’s never stopped me before.”

She poured the steaming chocolate fondue sauce over two scoops of vanilla. Gathering a big spoonful, she said, “We really need maraschino cherries and coconut shavings, but this’ll do.”

Without warning, Zoe tossed the covers aside, straddled his naked body, and wiggled the loaded spoon before his lips. He barely had time to appreciate the punch of his erection under her weight before she shoved the utensil in.

He clamped down on the metal, his lip ring clicking against it. Grinning around the hot-cold combination, he sucked down the sweetness and tossed the spoon onto the table. Not nearly as bad as he expected.

Zoe smiled. His cock stretched beneath her warm core. He shifted his hips.

He stirred his index finger through the chocolate river flowing down the sides of the vanilla igloo and held it up. Gooey goodness dripped. With an eyebrow hop, he streaked a brown line down her cheek.

She squealed as he licked it off. “You did not!”

“I did.”

Her laughter warmed the room. It felt so fucking good to forget about the rest of the world, if only for a few minutes.

Zoe switched out the ice cream for the chocolate pot and settled her arse on his erection. “My turn.”

Oh, hell fucking yes.

His muse painted simple pictures across his chest—waves, fish, whale flukes. She tilted her head as she worked, adding details here and there. When she returned her gaze to his, a blush flooded her cheeks.

The water imagery wasn’t lost on him. Nor the fact that she used pictures instead of words. It was how she experienced the world—symbols, not letters—a product of her ‘disease’ as she called it.

He looked at his chest and smiled. “You have a beautiful mind, Zed.”

The red in her cheeks deepened. She leaned down and ran her tongue over a heart she’d drawn. His skin ignited.

She straightened. “You have a beautiful and tasty body.”

“That’s just the ice cream.”

“No. Not the ice cream. You.”

With a quick shrug, she lost the top. His cock pressed against her now-damp cotton underwear, urging him to take action. Fuck, he wanted to bury his face in her. Make her come until he drained her dry.

Instead, he sank onto his back, dragged her into the chocolate mess on his chest, and kissed her. As he licked at her mouth under the guise of searching for more sweetness, his hands wandered south and eased the fabric down to her calves, stopping on the return trip to squeeze a fistful of arse. She kicked the panties off.

His body liquefied, poured into hers. Tongues merged in and out, over lips and teeth. She nipped at his lip ring, which riled his hungry cock even more. It slid against her slick core, eager to dive in.

The first time they’d had sex without a condom in his car had been a beautiful tragedy of broken promises, desperate wanting, and dreams made real, only to be crushed moments later. Now, as he indulged in every inch of her skin, every twitch, every curve, he took nothing for granted. This was their moment. They may never have another like it. He allowed himself to enjoy it.

Knowing he’d bust a nut the moment he got inside her, he detoured to prolong the magic. He broke free of her searching kiss and rolled her onto her back. Hair spread around her head, and her lids lowered, slow as a Texan’s drawl. Getting to his knees, erection pointing at her, he grabbed the chocolate and began a little art project of his own.

She took his shaft in hand and stroked it while he went to work writing words on the canvas of her skin. God
damn
, she made it hard to concentrate.

Languid giggles rolled out of her when he touched a sensitive spot, but she never let go of his hard-on. He actually stopped her a couple of times to keep himself from coming. His muse’s needs would be seen to first. As many times as necessary to keep her satisfied.

Inside her wrist, he wrote ‘strength.’ ‘Bite’ across her shoulder. ‘Breathe’ down the side of her neck. ‘Worship’ on the top of her foot and up her ankle.

She giggled a lot for that one.

Priming the line of one of her ribs with a long, lazy lick, he feasted on the Water churning below the skin. Gods, so beautiful. He labeled it as such with chocolate finger paint.

He took his time doodling ‘possess’ in the space between her belly button and the glistening wetness waiting for him in the folds below. Her breath rushed and knees jerked as he exhaled across that tender flesh. He barely resisted sucking the chocolate off and diving into her core.

“Gavin,” she whispered, her eyes glazed. A hand ran through his hair. “I want you to make love to me.”

“One more,” he said as he scaled her body up to her lips. He hovered over her on all fours and dipped in for a soft kiss.

Water flowed like a lazy river through her aura. Across her heart, he wrote the word her blue symbolized: ‘love.’ He kissed the underside of her breast. Goosebumps rose across her skin, and he stood.

“Where are you going?” Brows clenched, she propped herself on elbows. Then she looked down at the body art. A gentle smile edged out the frown.

He went over to the dresser, picked up his phone, and turned on the camera.

She drew up her legs. “Don’t you dare.”

“I want to remember you like this. Words only. I promise.” This memory was too precious to be trusted to a faulty human brain. He needed visual documentation.

Her cheeks reddened, and she covered her eyes. “You’re totally embarrassing me.”

“If you don’t want me to keep the photos when I’m done, you can delete them.” He raised a brow. “Fair?”

She glanced at her chest and brushed away a wisp of hair. “Fine.”

He centered the focus on her left breast and snapped the word ‘love.’

“Be still.” When he’d shot every word, he crawled back in beside her and showed her the images. “Look at you. Fucking stunning.” Man, she was.

She bit her lip and smiled. “Put that thing down.”

His cock agreed.

“Fine.” He grinned as he lay beside her.

Starving for a taste of the body he craved, Gavin took her mouth with his and slid two fingers inside her. She tensed, then a thick flood of desire welcomed him. His balls tightened as she moved her hips to the slow tempo he laid down with his hand.

More.

An image of Scarlet’s red curls bouncing as she rode him muddied the scene for a split second. He shook the vision out of his head.

Gavin sucked Zoe’s essence off his fingers. The taste of her taunted him, stoked the Fire again. Instead of fighting it, he focused the growing swells of passion on pleasuring Zoe. With a devious grin, he targeted her clit for detonation. She gasped as he dove between her legs, swirling his tongue, lapping, pushing deep inside. God damn it, her body sang like a siren—practically levitated off the bed. The promise of getting her off got him off.

Breaths hot and urgent, he tongue fucked her, pressed his nose into her, coated his mouth with her. Her hips lifted and swayed to his rhythm. He set his sights on lighting up that delicious nub, alternating between kissing, flicking, and sucking.

“Christ, you’re killing me.” Her back jerked and arched, his lips and tongue following her.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me.” His words vibrated against the wet heat. “Let me taste you.”

Her long fingers roughed his hair, urging him deeper. He complied, teasing faster thrusts out of her, drowning in her. She held his gaze through a long, low moan signaling her release. Her sweetness glutted his mouth, and he imbibed eagerly as he watched her face contort through wave after wave. God, the look of pure pleasure, of utter submission to him tripped his switch, too. Though his cock had received zero physical stimulation whilst going down on her, he was primed to blow.

Heavy panting filled the air, aftershocks quaked her still-writhing hips, and she gazed down at him through dark lashes. That was all it took.

His balls about to fucking explode, he got on his knees and aimed the head of his cock at her swollen, wet pink clit. He’d done that to her. Pride and maddening pleasure snaked up and down his shaft. Past the point of no return, he stroked his dick with a couple flicks of the wrist. Focused on her sated face, he unloaded all over the pool he’d made with his tongue. And up her middle, across a breast. Another white streak missed her chin by a couple centimeters.

Fucking. Hell. The shit was everywhere.

A surprised but satisfied smile swept across her features. She smeared the combined results of their foreplay inside those glistening lips—in and out, in and out—and drew a line over her flat, tanned stomach, cutting through the chocolate.

Then she licked her fingers.

Fuuuck.

He never lost the erection. It got harder.

Searing desire rumbling deep within, he fell on top of her and ripped into her mouth. The essence of Zoe, mixed with chocolate and some of himself, teased his taste buds and kicked his hunger up a notch to damn-near starvation.

Fire ignited a frenzied crescendo of raging need.

His hand shot to her breast and squeezed hard enough to drag a long, breathy groan out of her. His come smeared into her skin. He pinched a nipple, flicked it hard, then latched on to the tight bud. Aching teeth bit into the stiff, reddening peak, torturing it with his lapping tongue and hot puffs of breath. He roughed the other breast with his calloused hand. So soft.

Deserving of a slap.

The Fire wanted blood.

Yes. Take it. Hurt her. She’ll like it.

When he sunk his teeth in deeper, she tensed.

“Gentle,” she whispered.

But her body begged him to continue. Fingering his hair with hurried pulls and clutching his head to keep his mouth on her nipple, she writhed under him, face flushed, aura tinged with the purple of passionate love.