Play Your Heart Out: A Rock Star Romance (Sinful Serenade Book 4) (15 page)

After I unpack my books and organize my clothes, I say fuck it, and I give in to the allure of the glowing aqua pool.

There's some noise in the backyard. Mostly birds, breeze, a far away car driving through the neighborhood. I can see the hills for miles. I can see Downtown, the cluster of skyscrapers that makes up Century City, the white letters of the Hollywood sign.

I don't have a swimsuit. Pete's room has a view of the pool. The sun is setting. There's no reason why I need to be shy. I strip to nothing and dip my feet in the pool.

It takes me a minute to ease myself into the cool water. The chlorine will do awful things to my hair, I'm sure, but I don't care. I dive under the surface.

The water is refreshing, inviting. I swim in circles until the sun sets then I settle in the shallow end and turn my eyes towards the setting sun.

The backyard door pulls open. There are footsteps on the concrete. I don't have to turn to know they belong to Pete. No one else is here.

"Hey." His deep voice cuts through the backyard.

"Hey." My voice is not nearly as loud or confident.

I watch him strip out of his jeans, t-shirt, underwear. What is he doing—coming closer, pulling away, holding position? I don't know what to make of his reactions anymore.

My thoughts turn off as I watch him slide into the pool. The glow of the water casts highlights over his face. It makes his deep brown eyes look even more intense.

He moves closer. Closer. Then he's a foot away, close enough to touch.

"Been thinking," he says. "I'm asking too much of you. Fucking up your life."

"You're not."

"Listen to this before you argue with me."

I stare back at him. I know he's wrong, but I'm willing to listen. I nod an okay.

"It's only gonna get worse, this fame bullshit. I don't want that for you." He moves closer. "I'm giving you an out. If you can't do this anymore, you can walk. Keep the money. No hard feelings."

"What about your manager, Aiden?"

"I can deal with him." His fingertips brush my chin. "This is it. If you stay, you have to be in. You have to be sure."

I drag my fingers over the promise I scribbled on his chest. "I was sure this afternoon and I'm sure now." My chest and shoulders feel light. It's obvious. I need him. I can't walk away.

"Don't like that I'm fucking up your life."

"I've dealt with worse." I rise to my tip toes and run my fingers through his dark hair. It's still dry. I'll have to change that. "All I've done since I moved to L.A. is work and read. I was too tired to do anything else. Now, I'm going to law school, I'm getting a hell of a tour around town, and I... I've never had sex like this before."

Some of the doubt in his eyes fades away.

"I like hanging out with you. Like that I can be myself. I trust you." I press my body against his. "I know we aren't together, but we are friends, right?"

"Yeah."

"You're the closest friend I've had in a long time. I won't throw that away."

He's still far away. I don't like it. I want him here, with me, in this amazing moment. We're naked in a pool. The air is warm. The water is just right. Other parts of my life are still fucked, but this is paradise.

I point to the writing on my chest. "You made a promise."

There. He's back. His lips curl into a smile. His eyes fix on mine.

"You have a one track mind, Jess."

I shake my head. "We can talk. Do you want to talk?"

"Not at the moment." His hands go to my ass. He pulls my body into his.

His eyelids press together. I rise to my tip toes. Then our lips are connecting. It's a hell of a kiss. All the frustration of the day fades away until the only thing I can feel is the affection pouring between us.

He cares about me. It's there in his kiss.

I dunk him under the water. He gets revenge by splashing me.

A smile spreads over his face. It does things to me, that smile.

I can't wait anymore. I need all the intimacy I can get with him.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull my body into his. I kiss him deeply.

He doesn't waste any time. One hand slides between my legs to stroke my clit. The other goes to my chest, playing with my nipples. It's different in the water—smoother. I arch my back to push my chest into his hands.

When he breaks our kiss, his eyes find mine. The mystery is gone. He's here and there's nothing in his gaze but desire.

"Hold on." He pins me to the side of the pool with his hips, reaching for something on the concrete. His jeans.

He reaches into the pocket and pulls out a bottle of lube.

"Were you planning this?" I ask.

"Not exactly." He drags his fingertips over my chest, stopping to play with a nipple. "More that I saw you in the pool and I couldn't stop thinking about how fucking good it would feel to have you come on my cock."

I'm not shy today. I know what I want and I'm asking for it. "I need you inside me. Now."

"Mmm." His lips press into mine. He squeezes lube over his fingers then brings his hand between my legs.

No teasing. He slips two fingers inside me. There's no resistance from my body. The lube makes it easy.

Thinking time is over. I kiss him harder. My body melts around his. He works me with his fingers, stroking my clit with his thumb. I dig my nails into the soft, wet skin of his back. Damn, that feels good.

Pleasure knots in my core. I'm already close. But I don't want to come on his hands today.

I pull back from the kiss. "I want you inside me." I drag my hand up his neck and play with his hair until his lips part with a sigh of pleasure. It feels good, saying what I want. "I need you inside me. Now. Don't make me ask again."

He shifts my hips so our bodies are aligned. Anticipation builds in my chest. It feels like it's been ages since we've been here.

There. His cock strains against me. No teasing. In one slow, sweet movement, he slides deep inside me. I can feel my sex stretching around him.

Damn, he feels good.

I dig my fingers into his skin. My lips go to his neck. He tastes like chlorine, and soap, and Pete. I plant kisses on his skin until I find the spot that makes him groan. It's the crook of his neck, right next to his collarbone. I work it every way I can—sucking, kissing, biting gently.

He drives deep into me, one slow stroke after another. There's such an intimacy to it. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest. I can hear his breath in my ear. This isn't fucking. It's making love.

I don't care that it's cheesy. It's true.

I get lost in the pleasure building in my body. His skin is soft and slick. I explore every inch of it I can. Until I can't take the knot of tension in my core any longer. Until I have to dig my hands into his hair and rock my hips against his.

"Fuck, Pete." I tug at his hair. "You feel so good."

He slides his hand behind my neck, cupping the back of my head. He tilts me so we're eye to eye.

I stare into his gorgeous eyes for as long as I can. The way pleasure spreads over his expression—his pupils dilate, his lips part, his eyes roll back in his head—is enough to send me over the edge. But, God, the intimacy of it. I can barely breathe.

My eyes close of their own accord. With his next thrust, I come. My fingers dig into his skin. I groan his name again and again. My body goes slack.

Damn, that's intense.

He slows, waiting for me to catch my breath. His eyes are heavy with lust but he stays attentive.

My hands go to his shoulders. I nod an
okay.
Better than okay. Amazing.

He stays slow, thrusting deep enough I forget to breathe. All my attention is on him. I love the way his shoulders shake. The way his lips part, and his voice gets deep and low, and my name falls off his tongue.

We stay pressed together against the pool wall until we catch our breath.

The rest of the night is perfect. We swim under the stars until we're exhausted. Then it's takeout and a crime procedural TV marathon. I fall asleep on the couch, in his arms.

***

F
or days, life is perfect. I hike in the hills all morning, spend the day studying, join Pete on the couch every night. We take turns making dinner—I cook, he orders takeout—and picking movies. Mine are soapy teen dramas. His are sci-fi thrillers.

Everything is perfect until I wake up to a missed call from Madison.

There's no voicemail. Only a short text message.

Madison: We have to talk.

––––––––

I
press my cell between my palms.

It's been radio silence between me and my sister for months. There hasn't been a hint of contact. Not even anything as innocuous as a comment on a social media post.

Now we need to talk.

What the hell does she want to say?

My head is swimming. I brush my teeth, wash my face, and stare back at my reflection. What does the girl in the mirror want? There's no clarity in her expression. Only confusion.

I squeeze the phone as I make my way downstairs. My knuckles turn white. I lose all feeling in my hands.

Is she calling to apologize or to deliver bad news about Dad?

I'm not sure I can stomach either.

"Hey." Pete's voice cuts through the quiet room. He's sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal.

I nod a hello back to him. I want to tell him about the call. I want to share the weight of this with someone. If it is bad news, if something has happened to Dad... I can't deal with that on my own.

Words refuse to find my lips. My mouth is sticky. Okay. I need more time to think. I take a seat on the couch. It's no good. The couch was comfortable last night. Right now, it feels like I'm sitting on a pile of rocks. Crossing my legs does nothing to help.

There are footsteps as he comes closer. I keep my eyes on the hardwood floor. I keep my fingers curled around my phone.

The weight on the couch shifts as he sits next to me. I can feel all the warmth of his body. I can feel his breath on my shoulder.

"You don't like me pushing you away," he says.

I nod.

"Don't like you locking me out either." He drags his fingertips over my shoulder and down my arm. "What's wrong?"

I open my mouth to speak but the words stay trapped in my throat. How do I explain my feelings towards Madison? I hate her and I love her. I never want to see her again and I miss her more than anything.

His hand finds mine. He peels my fingers from my phone.

"Hey, that's mine." I reach for my cell but he's already hiding it above my head. "Pete. Don't!"

"Don't what?"

"Give it back."

"If you tell me what it is that's upsetting you."

"You're pushy." I reach for his arm but I get distracted by how good it feels to touch him.

"Hey." He pulls me into his lap and hands my phone back. "Talk to me. You look miserable."

"My sister called."

He runs his fingertips over my chin. "What did she say?"

"That we need to talk."

"You need to talk to her."

"Excuse me?" I stare back into his eyes, but the affection in them disarms me. "You don't tell me what to do."

"I'll get you some coffee." He slides me off his lap and pushes himself to his feet.

I play with my phone, staring at Madison's text. It's matter of fact. She's not a matter of fact kind of person. She's expressive, loud, joyful. Is she treading lightly or is it bad news?

Pete's footsteps come closer. He kneels in front of me and hands over my coffee.

I get lost staring into his deep brown eyes. He doesn't like me locking him out. He wants in my heart. I want in his.

How can this be casual?

I bury my thoughts in my coffee. It's sweet and creamy. Incredibly sweet and creamy. "You must think I'm a kid putting this much sugar in the coffee."

"Comfort food." He runs his fingertips over my knee. "Not gonna force you to do shit, Jess, but I'm gonna make sure your sister knows she hurt you."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"Madison, right?"

"Yeah."

"If you don't call her, I'm gonna release a bonus song called
Fuck you Madison. You better apologize to Jess for Hurting Her
."

"That's a disgustingly long title."

"Eleven words? That's nothing. I can name twenty songs that are longer."

"I believe you." I down half my coffee in one sip. It's so sweet my teeth hurt, but the sugar
is
comforting.

"Look me in the eyes."

I do.

"Tell me the truth. Do you want to make up with her?"

"Yes. I miss her."

"Tell her that."

"But I... I'm still mad. And she hasn't apologized."

"Tell her that too." He slides onto the couch next to me. His fingers trail over my bare thighs. "I'll be right here the whole time."

"What if it's bad news?"

"You have reason to believe that?"

"Yeah... my dad. It could be something about him." I take a deep breath. "He has health problems." There. That's the truth even if it is lacking the critical detail of his health problems being ten years of enabled binge drinking.

Can I even talk to my family without falling back into those patterns? The second I hear their voices, I lose my spine. I want to do whatever it takes to make them feel better.

I've been protecting Dad and Madison for the last ten years. I don't know how to talk to them as equals.

"Don't want to stoop to bribing you with sex, but I will." He traces the outline of my phone, his eyes on mine. "Call her."

"What about the sex bribe?"

"Jess, if you want me, ask for me."

"Can we have sex after this phone call?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Okay." That eases some of the tension in my chest. I have something to look forward to. I unlock my phone screen and stare at the
call back
button. Okay. I can do this.

I dial and hold the phone to my ear.

She answers right away. "Jessie, is that really you?"

Her voice is excited and needy. She misses me too.

A million feelings rise up inside me. I'm angry, sad, nostalgic. I miss her but it still hurts.