Rock Your Heart Out (Sinful Serenade #3) (23 page)

"Only okay?"

"Please."

He steps out of the rink then helps me onto a bench and out of my skates and into my shoes. Most of the pain is gone from his expression but there's a hint of it in his eyes.

"You have to promise something," I say.

"Don't think I've ever promised a woman anything."

"I'll pop your cherry."

Tom pulls me to my feet. "You keep saying naughty things and I won't be able to promise to spell my name."

"It's only three letters."

"Even so."

"Promise that you'll tell me about it later. About your mom and your family and being in foster care."

He nods. "I promise we'll talk on the plane. After I wear you out."

T
om is a champion lock picker. All it takes is his credit card and thirty seconds of effort and the door marked
Manager's Office
is open. He leads me inside and flicks the light on.

The lock clicks behind us.

I broke into an office with a rock star.

I'm not sure what happened to the old version of Willow—the one who kept to herself and poured all of her attention into her photography—but she must be gone, because there's no way she would have done this.

Tom's hands slide to my hips. He presses me into the door, the weight of his body sinking into mine. He's so fucking warm. And he smells so damn good.

Our lips lock. Need pours between us. Desire. And something more, something deeper. At the moment, it's hard to place anything that isn't
oh hell yes
. I dig my hands into his messy hair. Sigh into his mouth. Rub my crotch into his until the friction has me groaning.

He kisses his way down my neck and over my chest. His fingers go to the buttons of my blouse. He undoes them one at a time, his fingers lingering over my exposed skin, until I'm all the way unbuttoned.

My blouse hangs at my shoulders, my breasts exposed to him.

"I like you not wearing a bra." He flicks his tongue against my nipple. "How can I convince you to make it a habit?"

"Keep doing this."

His mouth closes around my nipple and he sucks hard. The pressure is so intense my knees buckle.

"How's that?" He groans.

"Yes. I'm convinced. To do something. I forget what."

He moves to my other breast and teases it just as mercilessly.

"To swear off bras." He sucks on my nipple.

God, yes. Sensation overwhelms me. No one has ever paid my body this much attention, and he's fucking amazing.

"As long as I'm an edgy photographer, I can get away with that."

"You decide what you want to focus on yet?"

"I'm not sure I know how to spell my name at the moment."

"It's a lot more than three letters." He laughs, then he's right back to drawing circles around my nipple with his tongue.

A groan escapes my lips. "What happens if I go without panties?"

"Fuck, kid, you're giving me ideas." He pushes my skirt up. His palm presses against my sex. "I better demonstrate."

"Please do."

He groans as he slides my panties to my knees. "Say that again."

"Please." I kick my panties off my feet.

"Please what?" Tom flicks his tongue against my nipple until I'm panting.

"Just please."

I press my palm against the door to steady myself. The words echo through my brain.
Please, please, please
. Please, don't break my heart. Please, fall in love with me. Please, let me fall in love with you.

He traces the lines of my chest piece with his tongue. "I know you got this cause your heart was broken." He kisses me between my breasts. "But I still think it's sexy as all hell."

"Tom, please." I tug at his hair.

"The way you say that is fucking sexy." He kisses his way to my belly button then positions himself on his knees.

"You think I'm that sexy?"

"Fuck yes."

His lips tread lower. Lower. He traces the lie of my hipbone with his tongue. Almost.

He slides his hand up my thigh and over my sex. "This. How wet you are—"

I groan.

"That's fucking sexy." He slides his hand up my torso and teases my nipple until I'm groaning. "And that." He sucks on my inner thigh. "And this."

God, he's close.

I take a deep breath. "Tom, I..."

"I've got you, kid. All you have to do is relax and breathe." He flicks his tongue against my skin. "If you like something–" He takes my hand, places it on his shoulder, and guides me through a squeeze.

Okay. I can do that.

My eyes close as his mouth moves closer. Closer. I try to push any insecurity out of my head. Relax and breathe. I'm breathing. I deserve partial credit.

His tongue flicks against me, and I forget everything else. My name. W-I-L. Oh. Fuck. That hardly matters.

Intense doesn't begin to describe it. His mouth is warm and wet and he moves with all the precision in the world. Hard flicks send shocks of pleasure through my torso. Soft licks build slow waves of ecstasy. My knees nearly buckle when he sucks on my lips. Holy hell.

I squeeze his shoulder. Yes. More.

Tom slides his hand around my hip and under my ass. He adjusts my leg, hooking it over his shoulder, spreading me open. He sucks on my labium until I'm wrecked with pleasure, until I'm clawing at his shoulder. Then he's at the other, moving with that same finesse.

My groans build until they're much too loud for our semi-public venue. I don't care. Arrest me. Better to go to jail for the next one hundred years than to hold back anything.

I reach for Tom's hair, pressing my fingers against the back of his head. Who knew it was possible for two people to be this close? For one person to matter more than anything else in the world.

He licks me up and down, teasing my clit with a single flick of his tongue each time. Again and again. Until I can't take it anymore.

"Please," I groan. "Please make me come."

He responds by sucking on my clit. This time, my knees do buckle. Tom pulls away. He shifts to his feet and looks me in the eyes. "You okay making a mess of that desk."

I should care that I'm fucking up a stranger's office, but I don't. Not even a hint.

I nod. "Yes. Now. Please."

He pushes everything off the thick desk and sets me on top of it. He guides me onto my back and spreads my knees. His lips trail up my leg. Close and closer. Until they're on me again. My eyes flutter closed. His tongue flicks against my clit, and the world clicks into place.

Fireworks everywhere. These beautiful bursts of color and light. Like a movie. Like a daydream. Like everything.

"Don't stop." I squeeze his shoulders as hard as I can.

He works me with that same rhythm, same pressure. Yes. There. I settle into the ground. Dig my heels into his back. Tighter and tighter. One more flick and I scream.

All that pressure releases as I come. An orgasm washes over me. I'm not sure I even know my name at this point. A plant of some kind. A tree. Who cares?

Tom looks up at me, the pride of accomplishment spread over his beautiful face.

"Don't have to ask if you liked it." He climbs onto the desk, kisses his way up my stomach and chest. Until he's positioned on top of me. "You okay to go again?"

"Is it you fucking me?"

He nods.

"Yes please."

He pulls his t-shirt over his head, unzips and unbuttons his jeans. "You want me to wear a condom?"

"No."

Tom strips to his boxers. His eyes meet mine. "I've never had sex without a condom."

"Really?"

He nods. "Never been in a monogamous relationship."

Relationship.

I like that word.

I love that word.

He slides his boxers to his feet.

I gawk. Every inch of him is yummy. His pierced cock is no exception.

Tom doesn't give me much time to ogle him. He nudges my knees apart, lifts my ass, and sets my ankles on his shoulders.

"Is this another attempt to teach me some balance?" I groan as his fingertips brush against my nipple.

"No." His other hand slides under my ass. He brings our bodies together, his cock nudging against my sex. "Just want to be as deep in you as I can."

God, yes.

He enters me slowly. It's different without the condom. Closer. He pulls back until he's only barely inside me, then thrusts into me again. Again. Again. Each time, I feel more full, more whole.

By the time he sets me back on the desk, I'm dizzy with pleasure. I let him lead. I'm too overwhelmed to do anything else. He feels so good inside me. So right.

His fingers dig into my hips, encouraging my movement. I rock in time with his guidance. Oh. Yes. There. The metal balls of his apadravya hit me just right. One of them anyway. It rubs against my G-spot, sending wave after wave of pleasure through my torso. It's a good thing I'm already on my back. I can barely keep my legs against his chest.

I stare back into his eyes. It's intimate, intense. This isn't fucking. It must be making love. Or whatever comes right before love.

Feelings threaten to overwhelm me. I shift my legs off his chest and wrap them around his waist. "Kiss me. Please."

He lowers his body onto mine, kissing me as he adjusts my legs. We're pressed together. It feels right, how close we are, how he taste of me, how his tongue claims my mouth.

He moves deeper. Faster. My orgasm builds quickly. It's fast, intense. I come as he thrusts into me. My whole body is shaking.

I grab onto Tom's hair to pull him closer. He kisses harder. There's intention in it, need, everything.

He breaks our kiss to moan against my neck. I need more of that. Yes. The ears. I bring my mouth to his ears, licking and sucking until his moans get louder and more desperate. Until his motions are just as hard and desperate.

"Fuck, Willow." He sucks on my neck.

There. I can feel his body shaking, his cock pulsing as he comes inside me. When he's spent, he collapses on top of me. It takes minutes for our breath to return to normal.

Tom shifts off me. I find a box of tissues and clean up the best I can.

He gets into his boxers and jeans and checks his phone. "Two hours until departure."

"Did you have anything to do with the flight getting delayed?"

"If I could feel anything but satisfaction, I'd be hurt," he teases.

"Got rid of Drew and got us a few hours alone."

"I wish I had." He pulls his t-shirt over his head. "But that was sheer luck."

I re-button my blouse and get into my panties.

Tom taps a few things into his phone. He slides the device into his pocket and helps me up. "Come on. There's a lot to talk about."

I nod.

"And a lot I want to do to you on the way to the airport."

T
his limo is a little smaller and a lot less party central. No booze, no mood lighting, no stripper poles. It's plenty of room for to two to sit. Or lie.

"Pizza with vegetables on it?" Tom scrunches his nose like he smells something bad. "Really?"

"If you don't want it, get something else on your half. Just not meat. It touches."

"Okay. Red peppers, artichoke hearts, and broccoli it is." He shakes his head but taps the order into a takeout app on his phone.

"You'll like it."

"That's my line." Tom pulls me into his lap and nods to the moon roof. "We're not in an 80s movie. Fight your urge to get up and look around."

"I don't think it's possible to be around you and have an urge to do something besides jumping your bones."

"That's an urge I can get behind. Or in front of. Or under. Or on top of."

"Or all of the above?"

"I like the way you think."

Tom presses a button to slide the roof open. The dark blue evening light falls over us. The city is too bright for stars but the moon is big and beautiful.

I lean back on the bench seat and stare at the sky. Minutes pass without conversation but the silence is comfortable.

Tom really has no idea how romantic he is. How sweet he is. He's cocky about his looks, his music, his fucking, his role as bossy band protector... about a million things. But, somehow, he can't see how lovable he is.

His hand slides into my hair. "Don't fall asleep on me."

"I'm not on you. I'm on the bench."

"Don't fall asleep until I make you come at least two more times. I hate to let a beautiful woman down."

"You can make me come," I murmur. "Just don't wake me."

"Won't be doing it right if you sleep through it."

A fair point.

He scoots closer, shifts me so my head is in his lap and he's looking down at me. "You really want me to wake you with an orgasm sometime?"

"Sometime." I stare back at him. "Not yet but sometime."

There's understanding in his eyes. He doesn't need it explained. That kind of thing is the next level of trust.

"You can wake me with sex anytime."

"You won't feel used if you wake up to me riding you senselessly?"

"Mmm. I lost my train of thought." Tom pulls me up and into his lap. He presses his lips into my neck. "Have you eaten anything since breakfast?"

"No."

"Then don't fall asleep until after dinner." He checks the time on his phone. "You skip a lot of meals?"

"When I'm preoccupied." I dig through the mini-fridge for a bottle of water. "I don't need someone reminding me to eat. I'm a big girl. I can feed myself."

He shakes his head. "Afraid I can't agree to those terms, kid."

I bite my lip. Part of me is touched by his concern. The other part is terrified of a not-quite-boyfriend asserting control over any part of my life. "I'm sure you have good intentions, but I need you to back off about looking after me. That's how things started with Bradley. At first it was little things—don't wear that dress, don't stay out late after your swim meet, don't walk home by yourself at night—until it become big things. Skipping class. Ending friendships. Running off from my family."

"I won't push you, won't try to control you. But there's nothing you can say to convince me not to take care of you."

Okay. That part of me that's touched is winning. I nod.