Fused (Lost in Oblivion #4.5) (10 page)

“More commands.” Surprisingly, she set aside the jeweler’s box and obliged.

“Move closer to the fire.”

“I’m not a doll.”

She glanced back at him, and he didn’t make a move to alter his position in the chair. Belt undone, legs spread, dumb ass Santa hat tipped sideways on his head. He let everything he was feeling for her burn in his gaze as she studied him, her uncertainty revealed in her stance.

“I want to see you naked, in the firelight,” he murmured. “Can you do that for me?”

She cast a quick glance at the staircase to the second level. Music was still playing on low, but the others hadn’t made a peep for a while.

“No one will interrupt us. They’re all wrapped up in each other.” He leaned forward and slipped the email into the sack, then put the bag aside. “Let’s get lost too.”

She hesitated only a fraction of an instant before drawing her sweater and cami over her head. She didn’t make it into a striptease. That wasn’t Lila’s way. Her sexuality seemed to surprise her as much as it slayed him. She toed off her boots and socks and shimmied out of her pants. When she wore only her bra and panties, she turned away and fumbled with the clasp. He sucked in a breath and laid a restraining hand on his lurching cock in a futile effort to ratchet back his desire.

It took everything he had to keep from rising to take her in his arms. All that creamy skin, warmed by firelight. Those curves. He wouldn’t survive this if he couldn’t touch her—
soon
.

She shrugged off the straps, letting them slide slowly down her arms. The satiny material pooled on the floor. She bent, long hair falling forward, and eased her silky panties over her hips and down her legs. Such long fucking legs.

Almost imperceptibly, he noticed her movements begin to change. She was settling into her role as seductress. Owning it. Owning
him
.

She kicked the panties aside and moved toward the fireplace, closer and closer. Beckoned by the fire that seemed to turn her into a torch right before his eyes. She placed her hands on the mantle and stared down into the flames, every part of her skin and blond hair glowing as if she’d been lit from within.

He couldn’t wait anymore.

Rising, he slipped up behind her and let his voice come out as rough as the sensation in his chest. All those jagged edges fitted together into something crazy and perfect and
hers
. “So goddamn gorgeous. You’re like a dream. No, screw that. My imagination’s not that good.” She jolted when his palm coasted up her bare back. His mouth brushed her earlobe and she leaned back. “I’m about to disgrace this Santa outfit,” he murmured, and she turned her head to laugh.

“Condom?” she asked, her voice just as uneven as his.

He frowned. Then she did too. “Damn Simon.”

“Does he buy your condoms for you?”

Nick snorted. “Hardly. The bastard likes to brag he doesn’t use them with Margo anymore. But normally, he buys me some for Christmas. This year, I got the frigging Led Zep boxed set and a painting of two nude chicks. And they weren’t even making out.”

She rolled her eyes. “Hello, I was here, I saw. That picture was a Van Renseleer. His work goes for—”

“I don’t give two shits. Just because Simon’s Mr. Model Dude now, he thinks I want art? No. I want frigging rubbers, so I can make my yuletides bright.” He nuzzled her neck until she finally gave in and grinned.

“I’m still trying to figure out why you’re mad Simon got you a Christmas gift that cost actual money rather than a cheap box of drugstore latex.”

“I’ll give you a hint.” He slipped a hand down Lila’s belly, not stopping until the tips of his fingers brushed the juncture of her thighs. The extremely wet juncture. “This, right here? The center of my fucking universe. The altar that I worship on. As a matter of fact...”

Her breath stuttered as he drew her back from the fireplace and moved around her to kneel at her feet. Eyes on hers, he lowered his head to where she was already soaked and arrowed his tongue inside.

A tremor went through him not only from the act, but from what it meant. For this moment, this night, she was his again.

Her head fell back and he gripped her hips and drew her closer, desperate for more. “Better than I remembered,” he rasped, his mouth already moving against her for another taste.

She shoved the hat off his head and sank her fingers into his hair, pulling him against her while he slid his tongue up and down her cleft, drinking down every bit of wetness she gave him. He circled the hard bud of her clit, lapping at it with the flat of his tongue until she rose up on her tiptoes and started to squirm. Slipping downward, he teased her entrance with his tongue, flicking in, darting out, before adding a finger. She groaned and swayed, making him wrap his arms around her thighs to hold her still while he took his sweet time making her mad. Every time she cried out, he sucked and licked harder, faster, crazed to cause her to tumble over that peak so that he could hear it. Taste it. Breathe in her scent.

Growls and groans left his throat, muffled against her flesh. They still couldn’t compete against the roar in his ears. He’d become a vessel with a sole purpose—to bring her the kind of pleasure that would buckle her knees and make her beg. Maybe, just maybe, if he accomplished that, he wouldn’t lose her again.

He couldn’t lose her again.

His lips sealed around her clit and she shattered in his hold one more time, her body tensing before turning lax as she trembled through her orgasm. Much as he wanted to prolong it, he needed to be inside her.

Now
.

He was shaking so hard he could barely make it to his feet. Christ, his cock was like a steel pike, quivering with the urge to burrow deep.

Somehow he managed to circle behind her to brush his mouth over her bare shoulder. She was still shivering, or else they both were.

“You distract me so much that I forget myself.” He started to remove his clothes, and she reached forward to grip the mantle. “I’ve always been so careful. But I can’t be with you. Even knowing you could ruin me.” He dipped his forehead against her back to try to rein himself back in line. “I almost want you to, because then I’d know it could be done. That I could want someone that much to risk everything. Even myself.” He moved back to the jewelry box and removed the pearls, then returned to her and let them dangle between his fingers as he gripped her hip. “I want you to wear these, and only these.”

She nodded.

For a moment, he gaped. She’d said yes that easily?

Perhaps she didn’t realize yet what exactly he wanted. Despite her marriage, her sexual education was not nearly what his had been. But God, he loved showing her new things. Knowing that they belonged solely to the two of them.

This would be one more.

He slipped the necklace over her head. They slipped into the valley between her breasts, but there were more, still more, flowing down her back. She turned her head and started to speak, but he silenced her by drawing her arms up and tugging her wrists into the small of her back.

She was starting to get the picture, he was sure. That didn’t mean he didn’t have to ask. He wouldn’t make another move until she’d given her okay to proceed.

“May I?” he asked against her hair, tensing his fingers around her wrists. One more subtle sign of his intent.

“Yes,” she whispered, stretching her arms out behind her.

His exhalation of relief burst against the damp hair at the nape of her neck. He wrapped the extra-long strand of pearls around her wrists, keeping them loose, but tight enough he could tug her back against him with a rough pull that cinched the pearls at her throat.

Fuck, he wished he could see her from the front. From above. He’d need mirrors on every wall to do justice to this moment.

“In my purse,” she mumbled. “I have one condom left.”

Thank Christ.

He had never had sex without a condom—not even once, because that was all it took for accidents to happen—but tonight would’ve severely tested his resolve. Luckily his girl was always prepared.

After dropping a quick kiss to the back of her neck, he went to her purse to grab the foil packet. He fumbled it open and managed to get it on, feeling about as sure-handed as he had the very first time he was with a girl as a teenager. Hell, he’d been suaver back then.

He returned to her, reveling in the way she quaked as he approached. He wasn’t the only one on the edge. Without hesitation, he drew his latex-covered cock along the seam between her legs before levering back and driving home.

Finally
.

Her moan exploded inside his head. She cut it off, but it didn’t matter. The sound reverberated as he turned her toward the sofa and pushed her down gently on the wide, padded arm, sinking as deep into her as he could go. She startled and he kept his pressure firm but tender, letting her know he had her and it didn’t matter if she couldn’t brace herself with her hands. He would never let her go. Even if she asked him to, he never would.

That was the one thing she could beg for that he couldn’t give.

He drew back and plunged again, working himself deep as he carefully tightened the tension in the pearls. Pulling her back up into an arch as he fucked her, slow and hard. Knowing she could take so much more than she gave herself credit for. He kicked her legs apart and did it again, bearing down, letting her get used to the weight of him. To his mouth hot on the back of her neck. Kissing, sucking, sliding his lips to her ear so he could whisper the kind of filthy things she would never tolerate from him when she wore her regular pearls and her prim little business suits.

“That’s it, baby. Twist that tight pussy. Don’t hold back. I want to feel you gush on me.”

She bucked against him, her hips rising to the pace he set. No matter how fast he urged her, she kept up, squeezing him so strongly that that the separation between them seemed to disappear. Not just physically. Emotionally too. Here in this space, with her hands flexing in his hold as he used her body for their joint pleasure, he didn’t doubt her feelings. He couldn’t. There was sex and there was love, but somewhere in the middle, they’d found themselves.

And each other.

He thrust into her one more time, angling just right to hit that spot that made her legs shake and her pussy flood his cock. She let out an aborted scream, more breath than actual sound, and broke around him, her body bowing under his relentless strokes. Going from instinct, he tightened his fingers in the pearls at her neck, drawing them shorter, his mouth pressing to her neck as he bottomed out inside her and finally gave in to the flare of heat at the base of spine.

Lost, mindless, he shouted as he came, unable to temper the reaction. That his release jolted her into another climax of her own was an unexpected bonus. Bliss radiated out to every pore as he pulsed into the condom. His hips kept pumping, his body on autopilot. He would just keep fucking her until the world disappeared.

She was his oasis in every storm, and he never intended to let her go again.

If he had to wait forever and a day, he would. As long as there was breath in his body and blood in his veins, he would wait.

When he returned to his senses—sort of—he realized she was whimpering and squirming on his dick. Hell, she was even biting the couch. He’d have to preserve that imprint later. Maybe get it casted to hang over the mantle. Or…bronzed. He’d earned every one of those marks.

“Bed, Li.”

He smiled fiercely as he unwrapped the pearls from her wrists and let them hang freely around her neck. Then he scooped her up, holding her close for the extra moment it took for him to bury his face in her hair.

Mine. All fucking mine.

Shifting her in his arms, he kissed her temple. She pressed her face to his neck, her lips curving into a smile he felt against his skin. And fuck, he could’ve lifted the roof off the building just from the power of what she’d given him.

He’d pushed her, pushed himself, and she’d offered him more than he could have ever dreamed.

Carrying her upstairs and tucking her into his bed felt like another kind of gift, worth more than anything he might’ve found under the tree. She moaned when he tugged the cool sheets over her flushed body and he laughed as he pressed his mouth to hers. Before she could rouse enough to argue, he slipped into bed and drew her against him.

The glittering bulbs on the Charlie Brown tree he’d snagged off the nearly empty lot the previous day cast multi-colored light over her skin. The scents of apples and cinnamon wafted between them, reminding him of a weekend spent in an orchard where he’d believed nothing could ever touch them. And she murmured in her sleep, his name on her lips.

If he’d ever known contentment before, it hadn’t been as sweet as this. Nothing could be.

He slid his arm around her waist and gave himself a moment to savor her warmth and solidity in his arms. He wouldn’t let go of his Christmas miracle, no matter what.

“Bulletproof, baby.” His whisper against her cheek was for him more than her. She couldn’t hear him. But maybe he could reach her just the same. “Together, we’re bulletproof.”

Swallowing hard, he grabbed the TV remote off the nightstand and turned on a DVD he’d made a couple of years ago of various holiday specials. So he liked them. No one else had to know, right?

Somewhere between Garfield purring on grandma’s lap and Frosty melting into a puddle—which always made him sad, truth be told—he drifted off, remote still in hand.

Even the best holiday stories had to come to an end eventually.

“
I
look like fucking Scrooge
.”

Nick Crandall stared at himself in the mirror and rubbed his unusually scruffy jaw. His fine blondish-brown hair didn’t lend itself well to a beard. It was growing in, but the chin pubes look in the meantime wasn’t really cutting it. Especially on anyone past puberty.

Which he was. He was firmly in his mid-twenties, with all of the forthcoming mid-life crises and shit to look forward to.

Not that he was looking forward to much at the moment. He was officially in a holding pattern in more ways than one.

But he wasn’t thinking about any of that tonight. Or tomorrow. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that Christmas was going to grant him some kind of miracle and heal the fucked up mess that was his life. He hadn’t been a child for a long time. Still, he wasn’t going to spend another holiday sulking in a cloud of cigarette smoke. He’d had too many days like that in recent years, and it had gotten old.

He’d actually begun to hope that this year might be different. That perhaps he’d get to spend the holidays with his family—part of it anyway—and maybe even a girl.

His
girl. Even if she really wasn’t, he was good at pretending.

Then everything had imploded, and he still hadn’t begun to pick up all the pieces. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to.

He picked up the can of shaving cream and the straight razor and blew out a breath. Hipster lumberjack types might rock the bearded wonder deal, but he was a currently under-employed rock star.

Clean-shaven it was.

Half an hour later, newly de-bearded and clean in body if not mind, he climbed out of the shower. He quickly dried off and slung a towel around his waist, then opened the bathroom door and leaned out of the doorway. “Jazz, you around?”

She popped out of a bedroom at the other end of the hall, a dark-haired, chubby-faced baby swaddled in a blanket in her arms. He swore she never put that kid down for a second. “Shh. Baby’s sleeping.”

“He’s always sleeping. Damn kid’s a narcoleptic.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s not even three months yet. Of course he sleeps a lot.”

“Just not at night.”

“Four letters for you. B-a-b-y.”

In spite of himself, he grinned. Jazz never let him give her—or her offspring—any shit. “I have four letters for you too. M-a-l-l.”

Jazz made a face. “What about the mall? It’s Christmas Eve. Only a lunatic would go shopping today.”

Nick cleared his throat. “What if said lunatic hasn’t done any shopping yet and really hasn’t shopped in years so has no clue how to buy gifts?” He cleared his throat again. “Especially for chicks.”

“Chicks, huh? I have a feeling you’re not angsting over buying me a gift.”

“I’ll get you something too, if you come with me and pick it out. Don’t you females like bling?”

“I can buy my own bling, thank you very much. And oh no. Ohhhhh no.” She shook her head hard enough to send her twin ponytails flapping. “Do I look dumb enough to voluntarily go shopping on the worst day of the year with someone as clueless as you?”

“Hey.” He couldn’t keep the affront out of his voice. “I’m not that bad.”

“Oh really? Do you have a list?”

“Of what?”

She gusted out a sigh. “Exactly my point. Clueless and pathetic and dripping all over the floor.” Without sparing a glance at his naked torso, she waved a hand at him and turned back to the bedroom. “Get some clothes on, make a list and I’ll meet you downstairs. You better be ready to get in and out fast.”

“First time a woman’s ever said that to me.”

“Doubt that.” Jazz and Gray’s bedroom door thunked shut.

Nick shook his head and headed into his bedroom. He was generally cool with most of his exes, but he and Jazz had a different vibe. Their thing had lasted a nanosecond, and they’d fallen into friendship pretty damn fast. Not that he hadn’t gotten some speedbumps on his ass during the descent, but being in the same band had helped them move past the awkwards into a semblance of an amicable relationship. Living together with her and Gray and the kid hadn’t hurt either. It was hard to see Gray and Jazz together and argue that they were anything but perfect for each other.

He’d just been an unfortunate detour on their road to connubial bliss, but hey, he’d gotten a couple of great friends out of the deal, so he couldn’t bitch. Much.

He tossed aside the towel and grabbed a pair of jeans and tugged them on sans underwear. A quick dig through his drawers netted a worn gray Oblivion T-shirt from their first tour, the one where they’d opened for Rebel Rage, and he pulled it on. He tugged on a hoodie over it and grabbed his wallet and phone, stopping short by the door. The glass dish on the end table held a bunch of shit—paper clips, spare picks, buttons from who the fuck knows what. Matches. Lint. And one perfect pearl drop earring, discovered under his bed during a reckless attempt to vacuum last week.

His fingers closed around the pearl, and he rolled it into his palm. He should give it back. It wasn’t like he didn’t know whom the earring belonged to. Keeping it would screw up her matched pair, and God knows Lila Shawcross wasn’t a fan of anything disrupting her orderly existence.

Especially him.

But he couldn’t return it. Not when he had so little else that belonged to her. She’d been his for a moment, less than, and he was a greedy fucker. He’d give her a million earrings to make up for this one, but this…
this
was his.

He slipped it in his pocket and headed downstairs to meet Jazz. She was giving instructions to Gray, who’d braced one foot on the handle of the rocking bassinette to keep it moving while he cradled his latest acquisition, an acoustic Gibson, like a girl he wanted to get naked. He also appeared to be ignoring his wife, though he peppered her endless speech with the requisite replies of “yes, honey,” and “no, sweetheart, I won’t set the baby on fire.”

That was probably a little embellishment on Nick’s part, but close enough.

“The kid will be fine. We won’t be gone long. This’ll take like what, twenty minutes?” Nick glanced at his phone. It was barely midday. “Maybe half an hour?”

Jazz stopped talking long enough to shoot him a pitying glance. “It’s Christmas Eve.”

“So?”

“How many people do you have to buy for?”

He started counting them off on his fingers then gave up. “The band, their offspring and significant others, my sister—” He huffed out a breath. “Basically everyone.”

“You forgot Lila.”

Jazz glanced at Gray. “Trust me, he hasn’t forgotten Lila for a second. He’s just trying to play it cool around someone similarly endowed.”

Nick smirked. “He wishes he was similarly endowed.”

“Yet my wife likes me just fine.” Gray grabbed Jazz’s hand and pulled her in for a quick kiss. “Go on, we’re good. You’ll need every minute until closing to help this moron find stuff.”

“She’s just coming along to help with the females of the species. I’ve got the guys down.”

“Oh yeah? What’re you buying Simon?”

“Alcohol,” Nick replied, before remembering Simon wasn’t supposed to be drinking. Ah fuck. “Picture frames? So he can admire all those dopey modeling shots he’s been doing?”

“Sure sounds like the Christmas spirit is in full force with you.” Shaking her head, Jazz bent down to kiss her snoozing son goodbye. “See you later, Dyl. Be good for your daddy.”

“Yeah, you two don’t have any ragers for the half hour we’re at the mall.” Rolling his eyes, Nick followed Jazz outside to her compact sedan.

Once they’d both belted in, he cleared his throat again. “He really doesn’t have a problem with us going shopping?”

Jazz grabbed a tasseled hat from where she’d stuffed it in the visor and pulled it on her head. “No way. He knows you’re in love with Lila.”

“Hang on a second—”

“Don’t even bother arguing it. You don’t have to admit it to us, but we all have eyes. Besides, my husband trusts me.”

“What’s that like?” Nick muttered. “The whole being trusted thing, and being able to be trust in return.”

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised there was little trust between him and Lila. He was in a famous rock band, and he hadn’t exactly been celibate in the past, though he hadn’t been nearly the manwhore Simon had been either. But he’d definitely enjoyed some of the benefits of being in a new town every night.

And Lila was married. From what he could tell, it was in name only as the marriage had been dead for years, but the fact remained.

No one smart would bet on them. Evidently, not even each other.

“It’s nice. And it’s necessary. You can’t build anything real if your partner doesn’t think you’re as all in as they are. But Gray knows we’re on the same page. Especially since we’re intending to try again later next year, depending how stuff goes with the band.”

“Try what?”

Jazz sighed. “To have another baby.”

Nick shook his head to clear it. Obviously he couldn’t escape into his thoughts very often around Jazz. “What happened to the first one?”

“Lord, you are clueless. Nothing. I just want to be a young mother. We’re hoping to have the first couple close together, then we’ll wait a few years to add on.”

“This one’s just a few months old and you’re already planning more?”

“Yep.”

“And Gray’s cool with this too?” he asked as she zipped into the mall parking lot.

“Sure is. He’d knock me up tomorrow if I said the word. Well, assuming all the cylinders fired correctly. It’s not just a matter of snapping your fingers and boom, embryo.”

“Thank God,” Nick said fervently.

“You just wait.” She craned her neck as she drove up and down the aisles, searching futilely for a space. Apparently all of Southern California had decided to hit the Galleria today. “One day, you’ll look down into your kid’s eyes, and you’ll be sunk just like we are.”

“Some of us aren’t meant to reproduce. Which is a good thing. The planet’s already overpopulated. Exhibit A, all these frigging jerks.” He motioned to the endless rows of cars. “Here I thought I was the only one who hadn’t shopped yet.”

“Hardly. You’ll soon see many men just like yourself, roaming the stores, looking dazed and picking up every piece of crap they can find to try to convince their significant others they actually shopped a while ago.”

“Hey, sexist.”

“Truth. Wait and see.”

“You’re awfully smug. How do you know Gray won’t be sneaking out with the kid to do some last minute shopping?”

“Gray already told me about my gift. He’s having a hot tub installed in the new house.”

“Yeah, right, because that’s just for you.” Nick smirked. “Not like he’ll be getting any use out of it.”

But he was making a note for later. Apparently, it was okay to get a present that benefitted you too, as long as you told someone else it was for them.

Gray was a canny bastard, he had to give him that.

“That’s better than the multifunction keychain you’ll probably end up buying everyone.” She darted into a spot near the back of the lot after someone pulled out and yanked the key out of the ignition. “Skip the inflatable whoopee cushion. It doesn’t make anyone laugh. Just incites violence.”

“Duly noted.” Nick tugged out his phone and glanced at his notes app and the halfhearted list he’d made before giving up. “So, um, I don’t suppose you’re cool with inviting the others to the house tonight for you know, some holiday type stuff?”

“Dude, you need a wife.”

Heat crept up the back of his neck. The last thing he needed was a wife. He wasn’t even entirely sure what a guy did with one of those, besides them providing sex and possibly home-cooked meals. And even that was sketchy, from what he saw on Dr. Phil when he was channel surfing.

“You are a wife,” he said.

“I’m Gray’s wife, not a general catch-all one for the public’s use.” Jazz sighed and tugged her fuzzy purple gloves from the pocket of her quilted vest. It was a little chilly out, but he figured the gloves were some kind of fashion statement rather than actual cold weather gear. “But yes, the rest of the band is coming over for dinner. Harper took pity on all of us and is making Christmas Eve dinner for the horde rather than just for her and big D and baby Lexi.”

“Awesome.” Since he had approximately zero interest in visiting everyone’s place to dispense his likely shitty gifts, he was glad she’d thought ahead. He relaxed into his seat, then rubbed his suddenly damp palm down the thigh of his jeans. “Just the band?”

“I invited Lila too. Don’t worry.” She patted the back of his hand. “It would be mean to cut off your access to Christmas sex.”

“Ha. Yeah, right. Not sure if you noticed, but sex is off the table right now. She’s avoiding me.”

Ever since the night a supernova had blown up his life in more ways than one.

“She’s probably just in damage control mode. You know Lila. All work and more work. And Donovan runs a tight ship.”

He didn’t say anything. No one knew about their big blowup shortly after the crazy VIP show, and how she’d stormed off and barely said two words to him since. It wasn’t about Oblivion business. Not entirely. He would’ve staked everything that mattered to him on it.

But she’d vaulted up and he’d given her space. Mainly because he didn’t know if she’d gotten heat from her boss about their relationship or if the situation with her divorce had turned nasty. The last thing he wanted to do was pressure her or make her life more difficult.

His hope had been that if he stepped away, didn’t crowd her, she’d come to him on her own. Hadn’t happened yet, but he was still hoping.

Christmas was the perfect time for futile wishes, right?

“Come on,” Jazz said gently, diverting his attention from the flow of pedestrian traffic outside the window. “We have a lot to do and not much time to do it in.”

“Nah, this will be easy.”

“Sure it will, honey.” She rolled her eyes at him and slipped out of the car, giving him no choice but to follow.

Not that he wanted to. Shopping was right up there at the top of the list of stuff he hated most. Along with having tough conversations and trying to build some kind of bridge from the shit pile he’d stepped into back to the amazing weekend he’d shared with the woman he was…with.