Easy Little Lick (Copperline #3) (21 page)

The girl had me completely turned inside out. I barely knew which way was up anymore.

So, expecting the worst, I damn near fainted with relief when she showed up at the Copperline and actually
flirted
with me a little. She was still
my
Ilsa. Shy and quiet, understated. Still ghosting around the room unnoticed.

But she murmured little things to me when she was close. She brushed her fingertips down my arm as she walked by.

She waited for me in the hallway when the sets ended, slipped outside to make out with me behind the bar.

All reclusive and clandestine, but so very hot.

The fact that she was coming onto me a little was really, fucking hot. My obsession with her clearly wasn’t just about the chase because when she gave me one of
those
scorching looks, it was all I could do not to throw her over my shoulder, carry her out to my truck, and fuck her until I dropped from exhaustion.

For all that shy and evasive Ilsa intrigued me, flirty and forward Ilsa had me hard as a rock about ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time. (The point-one percent came after I came until I was ready to come again, which really didn’t last long with her around.)

She still didn’t really offer up any information about her past or family or how she ended up in the area. She remained secretive even as she gave herself to me in every other way. I tried to ignore it, tried not to let it bother me, but it did. Her secrecy remained a barrier to real, true intimacy between us.

Yet, every day, she seemed to relax a little bit more. She genuinely found comfort in my presence, of that I was certain. She cared for me. It wasn’t just a physical desire. There was a depth of emotion that bound us together.

So, as hard as it was, I would be patient. I would give her the time and the space, and someday she would trust me enough to
truly
let me in.

I spent every evening after work in the Copperline, even if we weren’t playing, and spent every night in her tiny apartment, curled up on her couch with her delicious, naked body pressed tightly against my chest.

Sometimes, it almost felt like playing house. Like Justin had said, my girl came complete with a cute little kid. Max was easy to adore. Every morning, he and I had some man time, eating our Cheerios and drinking
mook
while I tried to let Ilsa get a tidge more sleep. Then I’d leave, off to work until I met up with her in the bar.

Rinse and repeat, as us drummers often said.

“You really need another bed,” I murmured as I traced my fingertips down a fine sheen of sweat on her bare back. “This couch is comfy for a bit, but it might be nice to sprawl out a bit.”

“It’s got a built-in bed actually,” she replied. “It’s a pullout sofa.”

“Seriously?” I asked. “Why haven’t we pulled it out?”

She exhaled a drowsy little sigh. “Too tired. By the time you’re done with me, I can barely move.”

Okay, that was really fucking nice to hear.
It was awesome knowing that I fucked her into exhaustion on a regular basis.

But I still wanted to sprawl out.

I gathered Ilsa up in my arms, ignoring her muffled protest, and set her in the chair, all wrapped in the throw from the couch. Pulling off the cushions, I saw a lever to pull up, and, sure enough, out came the hide-a-bed. Blankets and all. I pulled back the sheets and once again lifted Ilsa up against my chest, settling her on the bed.

“I’ll be right back,” I said quietly as I tucked the blanket around her bare shoulders and kissed her forehead.

“What are you doing?” she asked with a wide yawn.

“Just going to check on Max,” I said.

Her eyes flew open, and she looked up at me with a mixture of shock and immense warmth. I traced my fingertips along the curve of her jaw.

“I figure,” I said with a teasing smile, “after how loud you were a bit ago, I should make sure he’s still asleep.”

She pursed her lips with mock indignation, then lifted up on her elbow to give me a quick, tender kiss. “I wasn’t that loud.”

“It was beautiful… it always is. Music to my ears. I love to hear you come apart around me.” I touched my lips to hers in a firm, yet gentle, kiss.

I checked on Max who was out and looked way too comfortable all sprawled out alone on the full-size bed. Reaching out to tug the blankets up a little, I tucked them around his chest and went back out to join Ilsa on the sofa sleeper.

It was somewhat more comfortable than being crowded into the couch. There was room to spread out some, but I still wanted Ilsa spooned up in front of me.

Fortunately, she seemed to kind of want that too, and as I drifted off to sleep, I realized I was doing so smiling.

Lazy Sunday. I’d been looking forward to today all week. Spending my early mornings with Max, my days working, my evenings at the Copperline, and my nights doing my best to drive Ilsa wild was starting to wear me out. I was burning the candle at both ends… along with a couple spots in the middle.

Max and I had his usual breakfast while I sipped my coffee, but seeing the sofa pulled out into a bed got him all excited. He wiggled until I put him down, toddled over to the sleeper sofa, and stared at it for a minute.

“Mama!” he exclaimed.

Ilsa’s eyes drifted open and she smiled at him softly. “Hi, baby,” she murmured sleepily.

“Up?” he asked.

Ilsa shot an uneasy look at me. “Um, I should probably get up.”

I walked over to her and handed her a cup of coffee, with cream like she liked. “It’s Sunday. You don’t have to get up. We can just lie around.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly, almost whispering, “but I’m naked.”

I laughed. “As much as I’d like to keep you that way, I can see where it might be a little awkward.” I reached out and snagged my shirt off the chair by the couch. “Here,” I offered, “slip this on.”

I picked up Max, drawing him away while Ilsa pulled the shirt over her head and tugged on her panties.

And then the three of us laid in on the hide-a-bed while Ilsa read
Where the Wild Things Are
, and I couldn’t help but wonder where we could get Max a little wolf suit.

It was hot as fuck that day, and Ilsa had no air conditioning. The heat made Max miserable, and Max made Ilsa and me miserable. Around noon, Felicity called and asked if we wanted to meet them at the splash park.

Still timid around other kids, Max stuck pretty close, but would tiptoe around the spray nozzles and run giggling back over to Ilsa when he’d get wet. He and Eoghan sort of played more by each other than with each other, but we started to notice that Max would follow the gregarious little Eoghan around a bit. They even sort of started to communicate some, parroting each other from time to time.

At one point, I looked over to Ilsa as she watched them and noticed she had tears in her eyes.

“Ils?” I murmured, walking over and tucking my arm around her. “You okay?”

“He’s playing,” she whispered.

“Yeah, he is,” I replied.

Right then, he and Eoghan walked right into a heavy spray, and both boys came squealing back over. I caught Max in my arms and lifted him high up over my head, tossing him up into the air as he giggled.

“
Nanana
,” Max said, lifting his tired head from my shoulder to point at the bananas in the produce section of the grocery store.

“You want bananas, baby,” Ilsa asked, grabbing a small bunch.

“Cody?” a woman’s voice said from behind me.

Oh shit.

I turned around slowly to see my parents standing there looking completely mystified that I was holding some random kid. Ilsa stood beside me with a total deer-in-the-headlights look.

“Hey there, Mom…” I said. “Pops.”

Uh oh.

“What an adorable little boy,” my mother gasped. She was normally much more articulate, but also clearly shocked.

“This is Max,” I offered. “Ilsa’s kid.”

My mother looked to Ilsa, who seemed to shrink back right before our eyes, her face showing obvious signs of panic.

“Ilsa…” my mother said, trying to smile through her surprise. “It’s lovely to meet you, Ilsa. George, isn’t it lovely to meet her?”

“Yeah,” my dad replied, looking equally dazed. It suddenly occurred to me that I’d never really introduced my parents to a girl before. I’d never been very serious about one until now.

“Ils, this is my dad, George, and my mom, Alice.”

“It’s… um… nice to meet you.” Ilsa’s voice was shaky.

“So what do you do, Ilsa?” my mom was trying to make polite conversation to loosen the tension, but that question seemed to make Ilsa even more nervous.

“I… um…” she began, and then she looked up at me. “I’m going to run and get milk before I forget.”

And she was gone.

“I think you scared her, George,” my mother frowned at my dad.

I shook my head. “I think you scared her, Mom. Ilsa’s pretty shy. She, um… I think…” I didn’t really know how to explain her in a way that didn’t make her sound like she was scared of the world. Even if she actually
was
a little scared of the world.