Play Your Heart Out: A Rock Star Romance (Sinful Serenade Book 4) (22 page)

I feel full, whole. Everything is right in the universe. Within moments, the pressure of my orgasm is unbearable. It's enough it hurts.

Almost.

With his next lick, I go over the edge. My sex pulses as I come. I groan. Still, I can't tug at his hair. Instead, I dig my heels into his back.

He grabs my thighs and pins them to the bed. The roughness of the gesture makes me needier. He's even sexier in control. It shouldn't be possible, but it is.

Pete looks up at me. He wipes his mouth with his hand then sucks on his wet fingers. "You want another?"

Yes. But I want him more. "I want you inside me."

He groans.

That, I understand.

He brings his body onto mine. His hands slide behind my ass, holding me in place.

Almost.

Our eyes lock. The intensity of his expression is enough to leave me breathless. Those deep brown eyes of his are filled with an ocean of desire. He wants me as much as I want him, needs me as much as I need him.

His tip strains against me. Every molecule of my body cries out for more. I need all of him and I need it now.

Pete remains a merciless tease. Again and again, he teases me. I'm full up with anticipation. Every tease is agony. I focus on his expression. The way his eyes roll back in his head. It's killing him too, waiting.

I'm not above begging when he looks at me like that. "Please," I groan. "Fuck me, Pete."

His eyes lock with mine. He nods. His fingers curl into my flesh.

There. He thrusts into me with a quick motion. I'm wet. There's no resistance. I can feel myself spreading around him as I take him deeper and deeper.

I'm full but it doesn't hurt. Only feels good. Only feels right.

He's got me. He's going to give me what I want.

He thrusts into me again and again. Each time it's with full force—hard and deep. My legs shake. I cry out from the intensity of it.

Still, it doesn't hurt.

His hands plant outside my shoulders. My legs wrap around his hips. I use them for leverage, pulling our bodies together as he thrusts into me. It takes him a little deeper. It's not enough.

I curl my back. Deeper.

Again. Again. Again.

Pleasure wells up inside me. There's no way to contain it. I lose any last hint of shyness. I scream his name. I rock back into him.

"You feel so good," I breathe. My eyes meet his. "Can you go deeper?"

He groans a yes and shifts off me enough to bring my legs to his chest. My ankles hit his shoulders.

He takes his time filling me. It's a tighter fit. Ow. It's too intense. I stop breathing.

"I've got you." He pulls out.

My body cries from the feeling of emptiness.

He adjusts our positions. Slowly, he slides inside me. Slowly, he brings the full weight of his body against mine. His hands dig into my hair. His eyes connect with mine. I remember to breathe.

It's still intense, but it's just enough.

I'm pinned. I can barely move. My eyelids press together. My lips press together. Then his thumb is on my bottom lip. In my mouth. I suck greedily. I want to touch him. But I want to finish this experiment.

A few more thrusts and I'm at the edge. I groan against his hand. My sex clenches. He slows.

His eyes meet mine. "I want you to come on my cock."

God yes.

I watch the pleasure spread over his face. A few more thrusts and his eyes are rolling back in his head. His lips part.

"Jess," he groans. "Fuck, Jess, you're so fucking wet."

Pleasure knots inside me. With his next thrust, I'm coming. My sex pulses around him, pulling him closer. Then he's shaking, biting his lip, groaning these perfect low groans.

I can feel his orgasm in the way his cock pulses inside me. In the way he fills me.

"Jess," he groans my name as he comes.

He sets my legs down and wraps his arms around me. He's still inside me. The entire universe still feels like it's exactly where it needs to be.

Pete undoes my restraints then shifts to the spot next to me. My hands go to his skin instantly. I press them against his chest, his shoulders, his stomach. God, I need his skin on my hands.

His hair between my fingers.

I slide my hand around his neck as I pull him into a long, deep kiss.

"New favorite?" He asks.

My cheeks flush. "I need to touch you next time." I soak in every inch of his skin against my fingers.

He catches my lower lip with his thumb. "I like you at my mercy."

"Me too." Of course, I'm always at his mercy.

There's this beautiful look of satisfaction on his face. Like he's never felt an ounce of pain before. Like he's exactly where he needs to be.

He brings his mouth to my ear. "I teased you ruthlessly."

I nod.

"I have to make it up to you."

"For once, you're making sense."

"Turn around."

I do. My back presses against his chest.

He presses his palm against my stomach and pulls my body into his. "Two orgasms isn't enough."

"A lot of sense. You must have taken a seminar or something."

"I must have." He chuckles. "You want to go for three or four?"

"Three."

His hand slides between my legs. "Too bad. I want four."

I can't exactly object to that. My body is still putty. I melt into his touch. My eyelids press together. The room fills with our breath, our heartbeats, the moans escaping my lips as he strokes me to another orgasm.

I groan his name as I come.

He gives me a second to rest, then he's stroking me again. The pressure is intense. I'm not sure I have anything left.

His groan against my ear convinces me.

Within moments, I'm coming again. I dig my nails into his thighs to contain the pleasure that spills through my body.

When I'm finally finished, I nestle into his body.

"You're going to kill me at this rate," I groan.

"Is that a complaint?"

"No." Death by orgasm isn't a bad way to go.

"Didn't think so." He pulls me closer.

My eyelids press together. I should get up, brush my teeth, wash up.

But I can't. Right now, the world is perfect.

I fall asleep in Pete's arms.

––––––––

T
he morning is perfect. We drive to Pete's fancy Hollywood gym. It's a huge room but it's mostly empty. There are two dozen people here, half civilians, half B or C-list celebrities. Nobody makes a fuss or introduces themselves.

Big glass windows let in the soft glow of morning and offer a 360 view of the city. It can't convince me to stare at anything other than Pete.

He's working out shirtless.

It becomes clear how he maintains such a brilliant, work of art of a body. The man is focused when it comes to lifting. He focuses with the same concentration he brings to his playing.

Between sets, he shoots me flirtatious glances.

Usually, I hate the cardio machines at the gym. I feel like a hamster on a wheel running on the treadmill's endless belt. Not today. Today, I'm ready to go for hours.

No one notices me—no one notices the girl with glasses, a messy ponytail, and an ample ass—until Pete checks on me.

He tugs at my loose tank top. "Seems unfair that you're wearing a shirt."

"Convince me to take it off."

His smile lights up his face. "I will." He leans in close and lowers his voice. "Don't want you dripping till you're in the shower with me."

Yes please. I nod an okay.

"How much longer you want to stay?"

"None."

He chuckles. "Let's say fifteen minutes."

"Let's say fifteen seconds," I counter.

Pete winks and takes a step backwards. "I'll make it worth the wait."

***

T
he drive home is painfully slow, but being pressed against Pete in the tile shower is more than enough to make up for it. Warm water makes us slick and slippery. I only barely manage to hold him close as I kiss him.

Everything stays above the waist. He's such a damn tease.

Still, I stay on a cloud all the way through breakfast and the drive to the Santa Monica building.

Pete parks his Tesla in a VIP area. He carries my bag around his shoulder, his arm around my waist protectively.

He even presses me against the elevator wall, kissing me until I'm groaning and clawing at his hair. He's hard. He does nothing to hide that fact as we step onto the floor.

This isn't the behavior of a man who doesn't want forever.

It's the behavior of a man who is fucking crazy about me.

How the hell do I make him see it that way?

Miles, Tom, and Drew are already here. They're hanging out on the couches that line the giant lobby. The label's logo is plastered on the wall with shiny silver letters.

Tom shakes his head. "Jesus, you're gonna put an eye out walking around like that." He looks at me. "Which one of you is the tease?"

"You really have to ask?" Miles jumps in. "She's panting. He's cool as a cucumber."

"You guys need hobbies." Drew pushes off the couch and turns his attention to his cell.

"I need a hobby? I'm not the one who texts my girl every three minutes," Tom says.

"'Cause she's working." Miles laughs. "Willow won't take your shit." He motions come here and pats the spot on the couch next to him. "Come on. Lay the gossip on me, Jess. I know Pete is a filthy pervert."

Miles shoots Pete a playfully accusatory look. Pete nods
it's all true
. His expression is the picture of confidence.

I'm the center of attention. But I can handle teasing. I cross my legs and look Miles in the eyes. He has gorgeous blue eyes and a devilish grin. Anyone's definition of the word handsome.

But it does nothing to make my heart race or my stomach flutter.

Not even the thought of his sexy voice can make me nervous. I much prefer Pete's groans in my ears.

Miles chuckles. "Jess, you've got something juicy. It's not nice to hold back."

"He is the tease." I look to Pete to make sure he's fine with this line of conversation.

He's smiling, proud, practically beaming.

I turn back to Miles. "He's a merciless tease, actually."

"Better hope you make that up to her." Miles winks at Pete. He turns back to me. "I was hoping Pete would pick up my manwhore mantle but he looks a lot happier with you than he did fucking his way through every girl who licked her lips like she wanted to suck him off."

Tom clears his throat. "Jesus."

"Even for you, Miles." Drew shakes his head.

Miles shrugs. "Can either of you deny it?"

The guys nod with acceptance.

Miles smiles in victory. "Not like I asked Jess how often she sucks him off."

Tom facepalms. "How am I still the asshole?"

"Don't know. You'd think it would be Drew with how many times he's punched somebody in the face," Miles says.

Drew flips him off. His eyes stay on his phone.

Tom shifts out of teasing. He beams. "I'll be back in ten." He winks at me on his way out the door. "Keep an eye on these three."

Miles chuckles. "Settle a bet for me, Jess."

"Um. With who?" I ask.

"Me and Drew made it a while back."

Drew groans. "You're not—"

"I am." Miles's lips curl into a mega-watt smile. "You met Pete a few months ago?"

I nod.

"And you were aware of Sinful Serenade before that?"

"I have a radio," I say. "You're inescapable."

"You'd seen us live?" he asks.

"Yeah. My sister dragged me to a few shows."

"Dragged? Jess, that hurts. Was it really that awful, watching us live?" Miles teases.

My cheeks flush. "No. It was fun. But back then, I didn't have time for fun. I think you stripped."

"He always strips," Drew says. "It's the only reason why we keep him in the band."

"Love you too, buddy." Miles blows Drew a kiss. He turns to me. "Who did you think was the sexiest guy in the band? Before you laid eyes on Pete's monster cock?"

"What's the point of this?" Drew asks.

"Curiosity isn't a crime." Miles looks at me. "Ex-future lawyers have to stick with current future lawyers."

"You're right. Curiosity isn't a crime." Truth be told, I never really thought about Sinful Serenade beyond them being Madison's favorite band. It seemed like her thing. But I did spend a lot of time in her room. I did do a lot of staring at those posters. "You're all very handsome, very sexy in your own ways. I could never choose."

"None of that political bullshit." Miles raises a brow. "It can be our secret. I won't tell."

"Who did you bet it was?" I ask.

"Can't influence your decision." He throws Pete a
watch this
look then turns back to me. "It wasn't Tom, was it? That would be cold to your boy."

"No, it wasn't Tom. I'm not into blonds." I point to my hair. "We'd look like brother and sister."

"Was it Drew?" Miles nods to the guarded guitarist.

Drew rolls his eyes.

I shake my head. "No. Sorry, Drew. You're very attractive but a little standoffish for my tastes."

Drew shrugs, unmoved. "You should ignore Miles. He invents ways to entertain himself since he can't drink."

"I enjoy conversing with my friends," Miles says. "I know it's a strange concept for you, Guitar Prince, what with you despising everyone."

Drew smiles as he flips Miles off. His voice is light, teasing. "Fuck. You are a bigger asshole than Tom is. Why don't you tease Pete for once?"

"Cause he doesn't react. It's no fun. You and Tom rile up in a hot second," Miles says.

"Why'd you stop carrying
Star Wars
novels? You only started shit every ten minutes back then," Drew says.

"You really want me to get into
Star Wars
? Got a lot to say about the new one." Miles teases.

"Fuck, that would be worse. Save it for your Princess." Drew laughs.

Miles looks at Pete and raises a brow. Then he looks at me. "Pete that cool and collected when he's naked?"

"We know he's not," Drew says. "We've all heard."

Pete grins with pride.

My cheeks flush. "He was always my favorite. Sorry, Miles. You're very handsome but I like a man with a little more mystery."