Rock Your Heart Out (Sinful Serenade #3) (21 page)

I fall onto my side, my thoughts slowly drifting back into my head.

Then Tom is back on the bed, his arms around me, his lips against my neck. And I realize I'm done with thoughts for the night. All I need to know is how good he makes me feel.

How badly I want to be his.

T
here's a warm body pressed against mine. Breath on my neck. A heart pounding against my back. Not my heart but Tom's.

He's still in bed with me.

Every organ begs me to stay next to him, to soak in the comfort of his arms for as long as possible. Every organ except my bladder.

Damn, I have to pee. I'm careful about unwrapping his arms without disturbing him. Still, he stirs. Mutters something incomprehensible. He looks gorgeous asleep. But not like an angel. Even surrounded by the soft glow of light peeking through the curtains, he looks like trouble.

The curtains are only open a sliver and there's still all this light. It's far too bright to be a.m. I should be used to the sleep all day, party all night rock star lifestyle by now.

I allow myself one long moment to gawk at Tom lying on the bed on his stomach. Strong shoulders, sculpted ass, muscular legs. God, he's yummy. But the heat building between my legs only makes this whole I have to pee situation worse.

I lock the bathroom door, pee, brush my teeth, start the shower. There's noise in the main room. Must be Tom getting up. And his voice. He's on the phone. Ah, please let that be something trivial. Something that won't force life to come crashing down around us.

There are footsteps then a knock on the bathroom door. I open up for Tom.

He's still naked.

It would be rude to do anything but gawk. I take my time checking out his just as amazing front— from the messy hair to the defined abs to the hardening cock. God, he's already getting hard.

I am naked.

But still.

"Eyes up here, kid."

"I have other areas of interest."

"Do tell."

"Think they're pretty obvious." With great effort, I meet his gaze. "Who was that?"

"Room service. You need your strength."

"Why is that?"

He slides his arm around my waist, pulls me into the main room, and points to the bed. "There for starters." He points to the messy table. "There." To the armchair in the corner. "Definitely there." He nods to the shower. "Seems you already have the right idea here."

Oh.

"It's past noon but I talked the cook into making us eggs. Special request."

"Uh-huh."

He's naked. I offer him my toothbrush so I'll stop gawking. He takes it, one eye on me as he brushes his teeth.

"I've never been in a shower with someone else before," I say.

He rinses his mouth and sets my toothbrush back on the counter. "Don't do it too often. Condoms don't always play nice with water." Excitement flares in his expression. "Actually. Give me a sec."

He steps out of the bathroom. Wait here or get started without him? I'm already desperate for his touch. Desperate for our bodies to join again. This is more than care but I'm not sure how much. It's been ages since I've had any feeling for a man that wasn't indifference.

Tom is back in a hot second. He's hands me a folded piece of paper. His eyes meet mine. He motions
go ahead
.

It's an STD test.

He's clean.

"I haven't been with anyone since before—" He motions to his still erect cock.

I check the date. Three days ago. I look back into his eyes. "You got this for me?"

He nods.

"But you called this off at the show."

"Was trying to convince myself I could want something else."

"What else?"

"Something less complicated. That wouldn't end with one of us hurting." He presses his lips into my neck. "You want me to get a condom?"

"You trust me?"

He nods. "Even with my hands here." He slides his hands over my chest to cup my breasts.

"I'm clean. I got tested after everything with my ex and again six months after." I lean into his touch. "I have an IUD. Got it just in case... anything happened again."

"Just in case?" He lowers his voice. "Oh."

"It's not exactly a sexy conversation."

"No, just—" He leads me into the shower. "Not enough blood in my brain for me to think quickly."

I move under the flow of the showerhead. I'm already flushed. The warm water threatens to overheat me. I switch places and watch with rapt attention as water streams down Tom's perfect body.

His hands go to my shoulders. His lips go to my ear. "You've been through so much pain. With your parents. Your ex."

I press my back into his chest. Being this close isn't just sexy. It's intimate. Safe. We're in a magic bubble where nothing else can hurt us. "You have, too. You just don't let on."

He tilts my head towards his shoulder and presses his lips to the spot just behind my ears. "I've never felt like this before. Like the only thing I wanted was to take someone's pain away."

There isn't much space to move around. I let Tom lead. He positions me under the water then takes his sweet, sweet time wetting, shampooing, and rinsing my hair.

"I know there's nothing I can do to erase the past." He conditions and rinses my hair. His hands trace a slow path from the back of my neck to my sides. "But I can even the score with a hell of a lot of pleasure."

Tom presses me into the wall. The weight of his body sinks into mine. We're both sopping wet, slippery in just the right way. I let my eyes close so I can focus on Tom dragging his fingertips down my chest. It's different than when we're dry. Slicker. Smoother. The pleasure is diffused through my entire torso.

His hands explore my sides and stomach and back. They make their way back up my torso and curve around my breasts.

Tom rubs his thumbs over my nipples. "Look at me, Willow."

His eyes are filled with desire. My knees threaten to buckle from the intensity of it.

"I have a hypothesis to test here." He draws slow circles around me. "I'm going to need your feedback."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" He shifts so his cock presses against my belly.

"Your hypothesis. The one about small breasts being responsive, right?"

"You're a budding scientist."

He flicks his fingers over my nipples until I'm panting. So much for diffuse pleasure. Every touch sends a shock wave straight to my core. I reach for something to steady myself.

"This is a very good experiment," I groan. "We should probably repeat it every day."

"For science?"

I nod.

My hand brushes against the firm muscles of his stomach. He feels good all slippery and wet. I've been attracted to men, admired them from afar, but I've never craved my hands on their skin. Even before Bradley.

They had nothing on this.

His body is already my favorite thing in the world. The way he shudders as my hands make their way down my torso. The way he presses his cheek against mine and sighs right into my ear.

My hand slips below his belly button. There. It brushes against his cock.

He grabs onto my hips and presses me against the wall.

I keep my touch light as I stroke him from his base to his tip. His eyelids flutter closed. His lips part with a sigh. His pleasure is my pleasure. Better than my pleasure even.

I rub my thumb over his tip, testing his reactions as I play with the barbell on top. It's snug against his glans. Barely moves when I touch it. But that doesn't stop him from shuddering and pressing his lips to my ear.

"You keep doing that and I'm gonna come." His voice is breathy and desperate.

"That's the idea."

I tease him the way his teased me, rubbing my thumb over every inch of his tip until he's shaking. My do I like this apadravya of his. He groans with pleasure every time I touch it.

"Willow." Tom slides his hand around my ass and holds on tight.

I rise to my tiptoes to bring my mouth to his ear. The ceramic floor is too slick for me to keep my balance. I slip.

Tom catches me and holds me against the wall. "You need to work on your balance, kid. Some yoga or rollerblading or something."

I laugh. So much for being the cool, suave sex expert. I can still drive him out of his damn mind. I look up at Tom and slide my free hand up his stomach and chest.

"Later. Right now." I drag my fingertips up his neck. "I need to feel you come on my hand."

"Fuck yes."

"Show me."

He takes one hand off my hips. "Sure you can balance on your own?"

I nod.

Tom places his palm on the back of my hand and uses it to guide my movements. Long, slow strokes get faster, harder.

I use my free hand to play with his earlobe. Every brush makes him shake or shudder a little more. He groans, releasing my hand from his guidance to press it against the slick tile wall next to my shoulder.

He stares deeply into my eyes. "Don't fucking stop."

No way in hell would I stop. I stroke hard. He kisses me aggressively. His tongue slides against mine as he groans into my mouth. I can feel his sigh of pleasure reverberating across my cheeks and down my chest.

The way he's shaking and groaning—he's almost there.

I keep my pace, even as he pulls his lips away from mine to let out a deep, animal groan.

"I'm gonna come." He slams his hand against the wall.

I can feel him pulsing. Can see the ecstasy in his eyes and lips. There. He comes, spurting against my hand and onto my belly.

"Fuck, Willow." He wraps his arms around me and holds our bodies together. "Haven't enjoyed a hand job that much since I was fifteen."

"Is that a compliment?"

"You're fucking amazing." He slides his hands around my neck. "That better?"

"It's a start."

He nudges me towards the showerhead. The water flows over my head and chest. He turns me, bringing my back against his chest. Tom rubs a bar of soap between his hands. Then his soapy hands are on me.

"That's fucking naughty, distracting me like that." He sucks on my earlobe.

"Told you I wasn't nice."

"You really are dirty." He kneads my breasts. "Better get you clean."

I laugh. "I'm not sure I trusts your intentions, Mr. Steele."

"You shouldn't." He presses his lips to my neck. "You like it, huh?"

"Like what?"

"The piercing."

I rub the bar between my hands and take my time soaping his chest and back. When I'm thoroughly satisfied, I tilt my neck to whisper in his ears. "I love it."

A
fter a quiet brunch, Tom leaves for the band's afternoon TV appearance. Kara and Meg's graduation is tomorrow. We're flying back to Los Angeles tonight.

Around dinnertime, a limo picks me up at the hotel. The guys are already inside. Already bantering.

It's a real party machine. Tom sits next to the mini-bar, guarding it.

No one else seems interested in the mini bottles of liquor, but that does nothing to lessen Tom's guard dog stance. He keeps one hand on top of the handle. The expression on his face says
don't even try it
.

"Shit, really thought you'd lose the stick up your ass after you came. What happened? Don't tell me that woman turned you down. She looked like she was gonna drag you to the manager's office and throw you on the desk." Miles drifts into a memory.

Pete has one eye on their conversation. The other is on his phone. He shakes his head like he can't believe how ridiculous his band mates are.

Drew, on the other hand, is not even remotely here. He stares out the tinted windows, lost in thought.

Miles reaches for the liquor cabinet, taunting Tom. It earns him a slap on the wrist. His next taunt earns him a slap on the forearm.

"Whiskey dick? You were pounding those shots. Happens to the best of us. Or so I hear." Miles smiles.

Tom rolls his eyes. "I had sex with a woman last night, yes. I came once. She came three times. Do you need any more details?"

Miles is sarcastic. "Sounds like it was a lot of fun, all that joy in your voice."

There's no way he could possibly know he's talking about me, but the comments stings all the same. The sex was good. There's no way he was faking the groans that made it into my ears.

But it's been hours now. Maybe he's reconsidering.

Tom's eyes catch mine. He turns back to Miles. "It was fantastic. Wish I was with her instead of you assholes."

"I've never seen you with a girl unless you were on your way to or from her bed." Pete slides his phone into his pocket.

"Fucking her," Tom corrects.

Miles follows Tom's gaze to me. He shakes his head and makes eye contact with Tom. "Enough suspense, you tease. Tell me you only made it one-minute-thirty-one seconds. Meg will enjoy dinner more if she knows your loss is paying for it."

"Sorry guys. Got carried away. She looks so fucking sexy coming on my hand. Completely forget I was supposed to time it." Tom's eyes connect with mine.

My sex clenches. He's talking about me. About us having sex. It's our dirty little secret.

"At least ballpark it," Miles says.

Tom smiles. "At least twenty minutes."

Pete shakes his head. "I've never heard you last twenty minutes before."

"You listen that closely?" Tom asks.

Pete shrugs, not at all shy.

"Shit. Twenty minutes. After two months? I don't buy it." Miles pulls five one hundred dollar bills from his wallet. "I'll take your word for it, but only cause Willow is the underdog."

"If I was going to lie, wouldn't I lie to win?" Tom asks.

"Your ego means more to you than five hundred dollars," Pete says.

"Closer to five hundred thousand dollars," Miles adds.

They look to Drew for a comeback but he's still in a daze.

"What's wrong with Denton?" Pete asks.

"What?" Drew blinks, his attention returning to the limo. "I don't care how long Tom spent fucking that Goth chick. Stop asking for my opinion. I've got more important shit on my mind."

Miles looks at Tom like he's expecting the drummer to get involved.

Tom shrugs. "Maybe we should leave Guitar Prince alone."