Interlude (Rockstar #4) (19 page)

"Maybe you've got Nana Russo's mojo."

"That's not supposed to work for personal gain."

I shrug. "Whatever it is, it brought us together. Fate, the universe, Nana Russo's mojo."

"It's been a bumpy ride already. Hopefully the road smoothes out soon."

"Don't hold your breath, Cupcake. We've got a four-month tour coming up in two weeks—groupies, media, gossip—and to top that off, we've got your mom."

She sighs. "Again, why can't you bullshit me just once?"

"Because if I've got to go through all this with my eyes wide open, I'm dragging you right along with me."

"Awww. If that isn't true love, I don't know what is."

I snort. "You grab the ibuprofen and water and I'll order us some coffee and breakfast."

"Bacon, please. And a Coke. Coke is the cure-all for hangovers."

"Who fed you that line?"

She shrugs. "I don't remember."

"There is no cure-all for a hangover. See, if I were to feed you a line of bullshit, I could say wild monkey newlywed sex is the cure-all for a hangover."

"But you don't feed me lines of bullshit, you just drag me through whatever hell we've got to face."

I throw an arm around her shoulders and squeeze her close to me. "At least we're facing it together, right?"

She nods and then she gets a mischievous look on her face. Oh shit.

"That's true. That means I don't have to face my mom alone."

Fuck me. I groan.

"Isn't being married fun?"

“I don’t care, Luciana.
You spend all of your time working and you want to spend extra time away from me talking to your mother? Do you not want to be with me anymore? Is that what’s going on here?” Ian asks, manipulation evident in his words but it sparks the guilt in me and I cave.

“No! That’s not it at all. She just was telling me about—”

“Luciana,” he says calmly, too calmly.

I press my lips together.

“I don’t give a fuck about what your mother had to tell you. I don’t give a fuck that filming ran over. What I do give a fuck about is how we spend our time together. Since we don’t have quantity,” he sneers, “we better go for quality, don’t you think?”

I nod, a bit afraid of the crazed look in his eyes.

He nods back. “Good.” He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and squeezes hard—too hard—then pulls me to his mouth where he forces his tongue inside mine. There is nothing nice about this kiss. It’s meant to punish and I know tonight is going to be ugly.

Ian pulls back and looks at me. “Did you enjoy fucking him today?”

“Ian, it’s acting and it’s all fake,” I say, trying to placate him.

He smirks and it’s sinister. “I saw you. I watched you when he touched you, sucked on your tits, and rubbed his cock against your pussy.”

“Ian.”

“Shut. Up,” he demands quietly. “I saw you, Luciana. I watched as you faked enjoying his mouth on you, his body on top of yours, and I also watched you come while he fucked you.”

“I didn’t—“

He punches me in the stomach and my body folds in half, pain washing over me as I struggle for breath.

“I fucking saw you, Luciana. You fucking came with him. There’s no faking that.”

I want to scream that I was just acting. I was in character! I wasn’t Luciana, I was Libby. I gave everything to the role as I always do. It wasn’t on purpose that my body reacted to Harm. Harm was David in that moment, an attractive man and I admit it, I, as Libby, enjoyed the feel of his body on top of mine, his hard body rubbing against my soft one. And I surprised us both when I came for real and then, when he came, we both were lost. That’s never happened on a set before and anyone watching wouldn’t have known we both orgasmed, but Ian would. And he did. Now I would pay the price.

“I think you need a reminder of who your body belongs to.” He rips my clothes off and pushes me backwards to the bed and throws me down. He doesn’t wait, he thrusts his fingers into me and I’m dry, completely unaroused and this enrages him more. He pumps his fingers harder and faster while I fight back the whimpers that are strangling me.

“No?” he asks.

I don’t respond.

He grabs my upper arms, his fingers biting into my flesh, then he gives me a hard shake. “You don’t want me? Is that what your body is telling me, Luciana?” He shakes me hard again then pushes me down on the bed again—hard.

I shake my head in denial, but I know better than to respond, so I stay quiet. I continue remaining silent as I watch him take off his clothes then fist his already hard cock.

Please, please, please I silently beg. I’m not sure who I’m begging but I know he’s going to hurt me much worse this time, so much worse.

Tears form and I blink rapidly to stop them from falling. It’ll only please him.

He crawls up over my body and pushes my legs apart with his knees. He’s stroking his cock and I know he’s lost touch with reality when I see a bead of precum form at the tip.

He leans over me and positions himself at my opening.

“Put it in,” he tells me, panting.

I don’t move right away and he punches my ribs. I cry out, unable to hold back any longer, and the tears begin to fall.

“Aww, poor little Luciana. Did I hurt you? Are you going to cry like the spoiled little bitch that you are?” he grins, evilly.

I don’t respond and he just continues to watch me, then starts thrusting his cock against me.

“Put. It. In,” he pauses. “Now!” he shouts when I hesitate.

I lift a shaky hand and reach for him. I rub the head of his cock up and down my slit hoping some of his precum will provide some lubrication. The second he’s positioned at my opening, he slams forward, tearing through my dry tissues and I let out a whimper.

“That’s it, Luciana. Whimper. Beg. Cry. Remember who’s fucking you and the only one who will fuck you from now on. I’m going to fuck you and show you how a real man fucks—hard and long and I’m going to make you come so you remember whose body this belongs to. It doesn’t belong to that fucker Harm. It’s mine.” Slam. “Mine!” Slam. “Do you fucking hear me?!” Slam.

I let out a sob and then do the only thing I know to do to make this end sooner. I reach up and pinch my nipples, hoping to get some wetness between my thighs so I can fake an orgasm or he’ll keep going all night, wet or dry, he’ll fuck me until he knows he’s gotten my body to do what he wants.

“That’s right, Luciana, squeeze those pretty titties.”

I do, and then I lift and lower my hips against his once I get wet between my thighs—all the while knowing that wetness has nothing to do with Ian and everything to do with what I’m doing to myself.

I look just over his shoulder so it seems like I’m looking at him. I imagine Jesse Kingston above me, fucking me hard as we lose control, greedy for one another. When Ian leans down and bites my breast I see Jesse licking my nipples, rolling them between his fingers, arousing me further.

I meet Jesse’s thrusts, hard and fierce, his whiskey-colored eyes blazing into mine as he brings me closer and closer to orgasm. Oh yes, Jesse, I whisper in my mind. I slide my hand down and start circling my clit, paying no mind to the monster abusing my body. I continue to fantasize about Jesse. His cock, his panting breaths, his whispered words, and when he groans I rub my clit harder and close my eyes.

I’m going to come. I have to. I can’t fake it. He’ll know.

Then he lets out a moan, high and girlie and I hate it. It sounds like whines each time he thrusts when he comes.

Jesse. I want to come for him. I want to please him so I arch my back, letting his cock hit just the right spot while I press hard on my clit. “Jesse!” I scream out, sobbing uncontrollably, trying so hard to come but unable to get there. With Ian I just—can’t.

“Luce, baby.”

I sob some more.

“Come on, Cupcake, wake up,” Jesse whispers, pulling me to his chest, rocking me.

“Jesse, oh God,” I cry, inhaling the scent of my husband. Ocean, sandalwood, and yum. Nothing could ground me faster than the smell and feel of my Jesse surrounding me.

“What happened?” Xander asks from the doorway.

“Nightmare,” Jesse tells him, his tone grim.

“Jesse.” I say his name over and over and over again, holding him so tight I’m afraid I’m going to hurt him. When Xander comes up and hugs me from behind and Sera on the side, I let out a few more sobs before I can finally catch my breath.

“What was it, Luce?” Sera asks softly.

“Ian,” I whisper, shame and humiliation washing over me.

“Motherfucker,” Jesse curses.

“Honey,” Sera says to Cage and I glance up to see them engage in a silent conversation. I look to Cage who is standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, tic in his jaw. He nods at me then Sera and she nods back.

“Why is that motherfucker still alive?” Xander asks.

“He won’t be for long,” Cage says with a hard-edged tone.

“Why didn’t Giovanni kill him?” Jesse asks.

“Lucy asked him not to,” Sera tells him.

Jesse’s lips press together in a firm line. “Luce.”

“Yes,” I reply, knowing what he wants without having to say it out loud.

He kisses the top of my head and looks at Cage.

Cage walks over and kisses my cheek. “Consider it done.”

"Let's give them some time alone," Sera says, giving me a hug.

Xander squeezes me tightly and kisses my forehead. "One day you'll tell me the whole story."

I nod.

When they've all left the room, Jesse covers me with a blanket and starts rocking me.

"Tell me about it?"

I hiccup as I take a deep breath and nod. I trace the tattoos on Jesse's chest with my index finger. I never did get to all of them with my tongue, something I'm going to need to rectify.

"It was one of the times when he was escalating," I begin, then tell him all of it.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Luce. You did what you needed to do and fuck if I'm not glad I could help you through that even if I wasn't there." He squeezes me tighter and kisses the top of my head.

"I needed to come. He'd have known if I didn't and he'd have made it worse."

"Luce, you don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I know," I whisper. "I think I just need to say it so I know I had no choice.” When he nods I continue. "I always pictured you when I touched myself."

He chuckles.

"I'm not ashamed of that one bit. You are the stuff fantasies are made of."

"Cupcake, so are you," he tells me softly and I melt further into him.

"So I pictured you and every time I needed to go to that place, you took me there. You never once failed me," I tell him.

"And I never will."

"Why didn't you let your grandpa go after him?" he asks.

I shrug. "Guilt."

"Luce."

"I came with another man while I was in a relationship with him. That's not okay."

"It's not like you could help it. I've been on sets for music videos and got really hot so I understand, and if you had to keep doing the same scene over and over, being instructed not to stop when they cut for those few minutes, the build up would have to take you there. It's nothing to be ashamed of, Luce," he reassures me.

"How would you feel if you were Ian?" I ask.

Jesse stiffens. "No matter what, I would never hurt you like that."

"Oh Jesse, I know. I just meant how would you feel if we were together and that happened with Harm."

He blows out a breath. "Jealous, upset. But you have to know I'd understand and then I'd make love to you over and over and over, pleasuring your body in ways no one else can."

I grin. "I imagine you would."

"But here's the difference between you and Ian and you and me."

"What's that?"

"You love me. Your heart, your mind, your body, your soul all know mine as their mate and they would never betray you."

I look up, my breath halting. "What did you say?"

"Which part?" he asks.

"They'd never betray me? Is that what you said?" I ask, incredulously.

"Yeah, why?"

"My Aunt Lily said that. She taught both Sera and I to trust our hearts. She said they'd never betray us," I tell him softly, cupping his cheek in my hand.

"Wow. I don't know. That's just how I feel about it. I can't think of any other way to put it."

"Maybe she went to you one time and told you the same thing," I tell him with a smile.

"Maybe," he smirks.

"Will you make love to me, Jesse?" I ask.

"You never have to ask, but Luce, are you sure? After remembering—"

I cut him off with a press of my index finger to his lips. "My heart, my mind, my body, my soul all know yours as their mate, remember?"

He nods and swallows hard. "If you want to stop, just tell me."

"I promise."

He leans in and softly, so softly, brushes his lips across mine—just a whisper of a kiss, so sweet and so tender it melts my heart.

"I love you, Jesse."

"I love you more than anything, Luce."

I deepen the kiss, needing him to remind me where I am and who I'm with. My husband, my lover, my best friend. The man I'd trust with my life.

I reach up and thread my fingers through his hair and his hands slowly wander up over our babies, then up to my breasts where he stops and gently squeezes. He reaches down for the hem of my tank and lifts it over my head, his whiskey gaze never leaving mine.

Just watching him, looking at him, I can
feel
his love for me. And now, when he touches me again, his thumbs circling my nipples, I feel his need.

"Jesse," I whisper.

"What do you need?" he asks.

"You. Always you."

"Cupcake, I'll always be yours."

His mouth slants over mine, his tongue delving into my mouth, meeting mine and I sigh. He rains petal-soft kisses over my face and down to my neck while we undress one another. And when we're both naked, our bodies aligned, he gazes down at me and runs a fingertip down my cheek.

No words are needed. I cup his face in my hands and smile a teary smile.