Secrets to Hide 2: Naughty Little Christmas (19 page)

But before long the soft rocking wasn’t enough for either of them. That pert ass arched into him, cupped his erection, bringing his flagging length back to full mast. He groaned in her ear. “God, Harley.” He dug fingers into her butt cheeks, pushing forward, then landed a light swat on one creamy expanse. “Turn around here.”

Damien rolled to his back, propping himself with some of the pillows he’d knocked to the floor earlier. Hands tucked behind his head, he watched Harley turn toward him, watched her take in the sight of him spread out for her and how her pupils dilated in response. Anticipation stirred his breath and his rigid dick. He cupped Harley’s cheek, running a finger along the high ridge of her cheekbone. “Hands and knees, sweetheart.” He traced her lips next. “Come show me what this pretty mouth can do.”

Harley flushed, but her lips curved with pleasure. She crawled over his thigh, positioning herself in the V of his legs on her hands and knees. Her round breasts hung down, perfect for his hands. He urged her farther up his body until her mouth was directly above his aching shaft and his palms were full of her breasts. Harley gasped as he rolled her nipples between his fingers, her head lolling back in ecstasy, but he wasn’t allowing her to go over yet. He stilled his hands. “You move; I move. That’s the rule.”

“We have rules?” she asked huskily.

He tweaked a taut nipple. “Considering how easy it is to get you off, which is, God”—he shuddered in remembered pleasure—“amazing, by the way, yes. Now put that mouth to work.”

Harley glanced down, the lines of her face uncertain in the dim light. He didn’t instruct her. Her natural sensuality would take over eventually, but right now, exploring was all she needed to do.

Knees tucked up beneath her, arms braced at his hips, she lowered her head tentatively. Her hair reached him first, the soft brush of the candy-colored strands like a thousand fingers against his aching skin. He forced himself to be still, not to arch as she repeated the move. Each strand was a delicate finger, pleasuring and frustrating him at the same time. He wanted more, harder, now. But he waited, giving Harley this time.

First her hair, then her breath. It seemed to fascinate Harley that the huff of her breath against his dick caused it to jerk. Damien clenched his teeth. His balls hurt, damn it. They throbbed; his entire groin throbbed. When her tongue peeked from between wet pink lips and traced the vein along the underside, he couldn’t hold back his groan. Desperate to distract himself, he tweaked one nipple, then the other, reminding Harley of the pleasure to be had if she continued.

She got the message. Lowering her upper body, she rested her breasts on his thighs, framing his erection, nipples swollen and pointed straight at him. He squeezed and pulled her taut offering. Harley countered by grasping his dick, tugging him up, and sucking the head into her mouth.

Sweet wet heat surrounded him. One part of his mind continued to pleasure Harley, but the rest was zeroed in on the rolling sensation of Harley’s tongue against his sensitive sex, the gentle pressure of every suck. When Harley lifted and rolled his balls between her tentative fingers, his eyes rolled back in his head and it took a deep, hard breath not to release.

Harley began to bob up and down his length. He wanted to guide her, wanted to quicken her pace, but his hands were full with her breasts and he couldn’t let go. Every tug, pinch, and flick made her suck harder, and he needed her sucking harder, as hard as she could until he totally, truly lost his mind. When two fingers slid just behind his balls and pressed in a hard circle, he choked off a curse, grabbed her hard under the arms, and hauled her roughly on top of him.

Harley’s laugh stole his heart. “That good, huh?” she teased.

He settled her atop his erection and handed her a condom. “Just ride,” he said, voice jagged with need. In seconds she had him sheathed and positioned at the dripping opening of her body.

“Harley!” he shouted as she slid down his length. It was so good, too good. He panted. Didn’t think he could hang on for another stroke, but he did. And another. And another. They set up a rhythm that kept him on the very brink, but he refused to go over without her. He set his thumb against the hard nubbin of her clit and pulled her down with his other hand so he could take one full, dangling breast in his mouth. He sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed, pressed with his thumb, and thrust hard into her. Harley’s breathing went ragged, the hand that wasn’t bracing herself reached up to pinch her free nipple, and the sight sent a shaft of lightning through his body that erupted from his dick with the force of a ten-ton truck. He held on just long enough to watch as Harley threw her head back and climaxed around him, and then he gave himself over to the rush of release.

Chapter Nine

Harley set her damp towel on the bar, trying to ignore the shaking in her hands. It was just the week, she told herself, just the pressure of getting everything exactly right for the daylong event Thrice would host on New Year’s Eve. That was all.

Right.

The truth was, she was nervous as hell, and not only about performing for the first time in months. Sure, exposing herself onstage usually got the adrenaline pumping enough for the shakes, but not this time. Even knowing Damien would be watching didn’t have her heart revving. No, it was the knowledge that her time was up that had her shaking in her leather boots as she made her way across Thrice’s crowded bar and into the hallway leading to the offices. The time to tell Damien was tonight, no getting around it. Every moment since they’d awakened Christmas morning had been one agonizing scream of
tell him!
after another in the back of her head, and still she hadn’t. She’d screwed herself, and it was time to pay the price.

Oh, and first? Perform with the band that still hated her.
Yep, life’s a bitch.

Rehearsals this week had been brutal, not because Aftershock didn’t know the music, but because Jace, Cai, Sam, and Ronan refused to speak to her any more than necessary. None of them understood why she’d quit, but then, how could they? She hadn’t told them the truth. Sure, she’d told them she wanted to settle down, stop traveling, but they’d been together as a band for seven years. Not one of them believed her excuses were anything more than a crock of bullshit. The strain between the five of them had to stop. Tonight, before they went onstage and made complete and utter fools of themselves.

Harley centered her gaze on the door of the green room at the end of the hall. With every blink, she breathed in, breathed out, steeling herself to get through each step, not think about anything beyond that. It wasn’t working. By the time the door loomed inches from her face, her entire body was shaking, not just her hands. She pushed the door open and walked in.

The green room was virtually silent. The boys were scattered around in varying stages of rest and relaxation. Cai, as usual, stood at the snack table, Coke in one hand and a sandwich in the other. The man ate constantly to feed his leanly muscular runner’s frame. Hollow legs, he claimed. Harley tended to agree.

Ronan stood next to Cai, broad and bulked up, his arms thick with the muscles built from thousands of hours behind a drum kit. When Ronan took his shirt off, women went wild, just as they did for Cai, and Sam, their dark-skinned keyboardist sprawled sexily in a plush armchair nearby. Just as they did for Jace.

Jace sat on the couch in the corner, feet propped along the length of the cushions. Viewed objectively, Harley knew he could’ve quit music to become a model at any time, but she’d never seen him that way. His short black hair, vibrant blue eyes, and body of a god drew women like honey, but she’d met Jace at the tender age of seventeen. He’d been her mentor, not a love interest. A surrogate big brother. The one who’d rallied the rest of them to make something of themselves when no one else cared if their music was any good or not. He’d made them a family, with himself at the steering wheel and Harley beside him, navigating the way.

And now? Not one of them turned at her entrance. They didn’t acknowledge her, didn’t stir, didn’t even look up to see who had entered, damn it. If it weren’t for the charity angle, she doubted they’d have even returned her initial phone call. They hadn’t forgiven her, and worse, they were stuck in limbo, refusing to move on, turning down every bass player who auditioned for them. They wanted her back, and they wanted her to pay.

Sort of like her and Damien. She wanted to move forward, be honest, but she didn’t want to face the moment of truth over Klio. Dichotomies seemed to be the order of her life, didn’t they?

She squared her shoulders, walked over to the couch, and shoved Jace’s size 12s off to make room for herself. Settling in calmly, she watched Cai and Ronan jerk around at the commotion, watched Sam startle out of his doze at the noise Jace made, fumbling his ever-present notebook. He carried the damn thing everywhere he went, jotting down notes and lyrics, anything that came to mind. Said he never knew when he might use it. Harley resisted the urge to grab the book fast and hold it hostage until they’d worked things out.

Instead she waited while Jace retrieved his beloved notes and settled back with a glare in her direction. Meeting the look head-on, she told him, “We need to talk.”

Notebook secure, clutched to his chest much the same way Harley might clutch Klio, Jace stared for a moment before facing front. “Nothing to talk about,” he said. “After tonight you can be done with us.”

“Jace, I don’t want to be done with you.” She looked to the others. “Any of you. When are you going to see that and stop this asinine behavior?”

Ronan turned to snag a bottle of juice from the iced display on the table, but not before she saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. He always had been the emotional one. “Right.
We’re
the ones acting asinine.”

A heavy sigh escaped Harley as she rubbed her eyes. Now that the moment was here—or maybe because walking into the room had been hard enough—her shakes were gone, and she was just so damn tired. “I haven’t acted asinine.”

“Or lied,” Sam interjected drily.

“I have not lied,” Harley insisted, but her gaze dropped to her knotted hands. “I just didn’t explain fully, that’s all.”

“What, you mean all that ‘this life isn’t for me’ crap was you telling the truth?” Ronan asked. “’Cause we all know bull when we smell it. We know you. No way could you give up something you love this much to work as what? A nightclub manager?” He snorted, making his opinion clear.

Resentment flashed through her. “I enjoy this job. I’m good at it. Just because I’m not playing doesn’t mean I’ve settled.”

“But you did,” Jace said, his eyes narrowed with the knowledge. “I just don’t understand why.”

“Because I had no choice. I had to stay home…for my daughter.”

“What the—” Cai cut off the words just as Ronan’s “No way!” rang in the air. Sam’s eyes were closed tight, his head down, hiding his feelings, but his clenched jaw gave them away easily.

Jace waited, watched, then spoke into the silence. “Whose is it?”

Of course he’d get it. No way could she have hidden a pregnancy from them when they were together every day. She met Jace’s eyes, willing him to see the truth, to see into her heart. “Sonny’s. Sonny and— It doesn’t matter. A month before she died, she gave birth to Klio. I adopted her.”

Sounds of disbelief echoed around the room. “A baby,” Ronan said shakily, wiping a hand down his face. “Jesus.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything?” Jace finally asked.

“I didn’t say anything,” Harley gritted out, “because I didn’t want to hear what a mistake I was making. How I was throwing away my career for Sonny’s mistake. I didn’t want to hear the same crap you guys threw in my face when Sonny got sick and I asked for a break.” She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay in control. “Klio’s not a mistake; she’s a child. I love her. She comes first now, and part of putting her first is not being in a different city every night.”

“Isn’t that where you’ve been the last few weeks?” Sam asked.

Harley rubbed the bridge of her nose, willing away the headache building. “That was a trial period for this job, nothing permanent. Look, Klio is family—”

“And we’re just your band, I guess.” Jace threw his notebook on the table and stood up to pace.

“Damn it, Jace,” Harley yelled. “You know better than that, or at least you used to. But you”—she pointed a shaking finger at him—“are an adult. You can take care of yourself. Klio is a helpless baby.” She felt the sting of tears at the backs of her eyes. “Do you know the hell I went through just trying to keep Sonny sober while she was pregnant? The fear that Klio would be born a crack baby with permanent brain damage?”

“Yes, I do,” he yelled back, voice tight with emotion. “I knew something was wrong. I could see the strain. I just couldn’t get you to tell me what it was.” He stalked forward to loom over Harley’s smaller frame, looking like he wanted to shake her. “Did you not think about that? About how not letting me help tore me up inside?”

The door slammed open, and Damien stepped into the room, the silent thunder on his face telling them all he’d heard the rising volume of their conversation. “Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?” he asked. His tone was mild, but his eyes blazed, their fire firming his face and tightening his body, readying for battle. Her white knight riding in to save the day. For a moment she allowed herself to bask in the glow of having him at her back, but panic swiftly overtook it. She tried to catch Jace’s eye, to somehow convey the need to keep their mouths shut, but Jace was focused on Damien, not her.

“Who the hell are—” Jace cut the final word off as he obviously recognized Thrice’s owner.

Damien’s smirk said he caught the blunder and the reason for Jace’s sudden shutdown. He turned, his back to the other men, his alpha status inherent in both bearing and the brush-off he honored them with, the rear view of his broad shoulders proclaiming their bullshit as unimportant.

“Are you all right, Harley?” His gaze locked with hers from mere feet away, and the space between them shrank to nothing. No one existed but the two of them. Her lover’s eyes, his body, his smile were all that mattered. And then time zoomed forward, and the moment was lost.