Joy Ride (13 page)

I guess when you pick bland men, you get bland sex
.

Not that she wasn’t aware of the other possibilities. She’d certainly read her share of erotic romances, and had suggested trying some of the things she’d read about, with a distinct lack of success. Andrew had just looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. With him, the whole process never took more than fifteen minutes from start to finish.

But Marc made her feel sexy. Desirable. Wanton, even, eliciting reactions from her that quickened her blood and made her pulse thrum. Showering with him had been the ultimate erotic experience—the two of them so close against each other, teasing, stroking. Rousing each other to a point of urgent need.

Although he made her feel anything was possible between them, she was always poised on the knife-edge of tension, waiting for rejection. Waiting for him to say it had all been a mistake. Waiting for abrupt dismissal. Wondering how many other women he’d brought home with him and how often he did it. Not that she, for one minute, thought he lived like a monk.

But tonight, everything just drizzled around in the back of her mind as she explored his very male body.

Wrapping her fingers around his thick, swollen cock, she bent her head and licked the bead of fluid on the slit with the tip of her tongue. A swipe across the velvety surface and she tasted the salty-sweet essence of him. His body jerked involuntarily but then she watched him every muscle in his body bunch in an effort to maintain control. She lapped at him again, loving the way his hot erection flexed in her grip.

Sliding a hand between his thighs, she cupped the heavy sac of his balls, stroking the soft skin covered with baby fine hair. When she moved her head lower to run her tongue over him, he groaned and tightened his grasp on her head, lifting it from his body.

“Enough,” he growled, his voice rough and edgy. “If I’m not inside you in the next ten seconds, I might lose my mind.”

His words ratcheted up her pulse, made the walls of her sex clench in anticipation.

He rolled her to her back, reached for a condom, and sheathed himself in a single smooth movement. Bending her legs and spreading them wide, he positioned himself at her opening. Thrusting smoothly with his hips, he drove inside her. Already wet and aroused, she took him easily, accepting him gladly into her body.

She felt complete in a way she never had before, as if all her life she’d been waiting for this moment.

“Look at me,” he commanded in his husky baritone that sounded almost as if his guitar had transmuted itself into his body. When she locked her eyes with his, he said, “You are everything I’ve ever wanted.”

An erotic charge swamped her. She so desperately wanted to believe him. To believe the connection she’d sensed from the beginning was as strong for him. Did he mean it, or was it just something he said in the heat of passion? Why would a man like Marc Malone feel that way about her? Impatiently, she brushed the stray thoughts away and tamped down her ever-present insecurities to give herself over to the moment. Fire for this man surged through her, and right at this moment, she didn’t want to think at all. Just feel.

When he moved, a slow in and out thrust, the friction of his hot erection against the tight walls of her sex sent bolts of electricity everywhere in her body. She planted her feet on the bed, arching her hips up, trying to take him deeper inside her.

His laugh rumbled in his chest. “Don’t rush me. I want to savor and enjoy every minute of this.”

Nice and easy. That’s what he said.

And it was exactly what he did, pulling back until just the head of his penis was filling her then plunging into her with a slow glide. In, out. In, out. His flesh dragged against hers in a hot, sensual dance. The lust that had coiled low in her belly and had begun unwinding in the shower now spiraled rapidly through her. Every nerve sparked. Every muscle trembled with unfulfilled hunger. She clamped her inner muscles around him, wanting to hold him in place. But the slow, steady movement of his cock only pushed her higher and higher until she was desperate for release.

Bracing himself on his hands, he bent his head and captured one taut pebbled tip in his mouth, pulling on it before he nipped it lightly with his teeth, then soothed it with his tongue. Need jolted her. When he gave the other swollen bud the same treatment, she tried to hold his head in place but again his low, husky erotic chuckle vibrated against her, and he bit down gently again.

In desperation, Emma wrapped her legs around his lean hips, locking her ankles at the small of his back and hugging him to her as tightly as she could.

“You ready to ride with me, Music Lady?” His voice was thick with passion and not quite steady. “’Cause I’m going to take you on the ride of your life.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Please. Now.”

His mouth took hers in a bruising, predatory kiss as he lifted his body and drove into her with a heavy surge. And then he moved with fast, hard strokes, pulling them both to the familiar precipice, taking her on the wild ride as promised. Everything ceased to exist except this man and the way he made her body explode with pleasure. Up, up…the orgasm hovered just out of reach.

She sensed his effort to hold on, waiting until she was there with him while she writhed in an agony of frustration. But then in seconds he stiffened and shouted her name, pumping his release into her as she shattered over and over. She was in a black velvet space where she whirled and spun and felt nothing but the clenching of her own body and the pulsing of his thick cock.

Limp, spent, legs falling to the bed, she continued to tremble with the tiny aftershocks. Although he was shaking with the aftereffects, Marc bent to kiss Emma again; this time a kiss so full of emotion, it nearly brought tears to her eyes. He slid carefully from the clasp of her body, disposed of the condom, and returned to enfold her in his arms, spooning them together.

She was thoroughly sated. Limp. Stretched in the lassitude of complete satisfaction. And the feel of Marc curled around her was so comforting. Despite her best intention, sleep dragged at her even as the need to leave hovered close. One tear slid down her cheek as she closed her eyes.

***

The movement of her body woke Marc, pulling him up from an erotic dream where he was buried deep inside Music Lady. Only this time she was on top, riding him, her breasts offered tantalizingly just beyond his touch. She smiled but when he stretched out his hand toward her, she suddenly began to dissolve in front of him. That was when he realized the woman he’d wrapped himself around had maneuvered herself out of his embrace and was sliding quietly out of the bed. He reached for her but she was already on her feet.

Pushing himself up to a sitting position, he raked his fingers through his hair and attempted to kick his brain into start.

“Hey.” He cleared his throat to rid it of the gravelly sound of someone just awakened from sleep. “Hey, ML.” When she didn’t answer him he said louder, “Music Lady?”

She paused with her jeans in her hand and turned to him. “I have to go. You know why.”

What the hell?

“No. No, I don’t. Why can’t you stay until it’s light out? What’s the big rush?” He was sleep-drugged, cobwebs impeding his ability to think and for a moment, despite his previous good intentions, anger sparked through him as she readied to leave.

“It’s just better this way.”

“Why?” He didn’t understand the fear in her voice. The panic. He swung himself out of bed, stark naked, and put his hands on her shoulders. “I don’t want you to go. Doesn’t that matter?”

“I can’t.” She pulled away and reached for her clothes again.

Once again he wondered if she was hiding some terrible secret. Or just using him to take a wild plunge into an unfamiliar world.

You promised yourself to give her time to trust you. Don’t screw it up now
.

But swallowing the anger was like swallowing wood chips. Hard to get past the lump in his throat. “Wait. I have a present for you.”

She froze in place, her eyes widening. “A present?”

“Uh huh. Hold on.” He opened the top drawer of his dresser and then handed her a neatly folded T-shirt. “Take a look at it.”

He watched as she shook the T-shirt with Lightnin’s logo on it. She held it up to her body and laughed when she saw it came down to her knees.

She giggled. “It’s a little large.”

“I know.” He took the shirt from her and slipped it over her head. “I was afraid you might not wear it outside your house—wherever that is—but I know women like T-shirts to sleep in.” He gave her a tentative grin. “I wore it once because I wanted you to go to sleep with my scent all over you.” His smile turned tentative, unsure of her reaction. “Okay?”

Please say yes. Please take this small part of me home with you. Please come back and see me again
.

For a moment he thought she might pull it off and hand it back to him, but then she nodded.

“Thank you.” She grabbed her clothes. “But now I really have to leave. I just wish you’d try to understand.”

Marc rubbed his face, trying to think of some way to keep her there a little longer. Take her to breakfast. Really talk to her. But he couldn’t seem to find any answers. He just knew this obsession with leaving was driving him nuts. He followed her as she headed out to the living room where she’d left her purse. Again he didn’t bother trying to find anything to put on, simply followed her, nude.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to understand. We have something good going on here. Don’t we? Something really special?”

It was true as far as
he
was concerned. His feelings for her had deepened and became more complex every time he was with her. He hoped desperately those feelings were returned, even a little.

She turned to him, her clothes and her purse in her arms. “I don’t know what we have, Marc. And I’m really confused. About a lot of things. Maybe if you knew all about me, you wouldn’t like who I really am. I…might not be your style.”

He bit his inner cheek. She was more than special. He wanted to share other parts of his life besides the club and his bed. Wanted to talk about things they liked and disliked. Things they liked to do. How they saw their lives unfolding. What were her hopes and dreams? Was she interested in his? How could they get to that point? All questions he’d never worried about so much with other women in his life now ran rampage through his mind.

Jesus!
Why did this all have to be so complicated?

“Impossible. No way could I feel less than I do about you. More, probably.” He brushed his knuckles along her cheek. “I’ll say it again. Don’t you know how very special you are to me? Even in such a short time?”

She glanced away. “I’m not so special. We come from two different worlds, you and I. I wonder if I’m nothing more than a novelty to you.”

Her words infuriated him, and he struggled to contain the anger threatening to rear its head. “Not so different if we learned about each other. And the person I am in the daylight might not be what you think at all. Stay and let me take you to breakfast. Just breakfast. You have to eat anyway, right?”

“I have to go to work.” She headed toward the door.

“Then we can go to breakfast right now. Come on.” He reached for her again.

She stopped and looked up at him. “I just have to go. Okay?”

In her eyes he saw a mixture of stubbornness and fear of…what?

If he pushed her he’d lose her. The knot in his stomach told him that. Swallowing the immediate retort that bubbled up, he nodded. “Okay. For now. But when can I see you again?”

“Soon?”

“When?” he persisted. He didn’t know how long he could wait to be with her again. “Will you come back to the club?”

“Um, I think so.” She edged toward the door.

“We’re there for two more weeks, although I damn sure don’t want to wait that long to see you again.”

“Two weeks?” She wet her lip and twisted her hands together, anxiety flashing across her face.

“Uh huh.”

“Then where do you go?” she asked.

He watched her carefully as he answered, trying to be as casual about it as he could but alert for her reaction.

“We have a week off then another really good club. One we’ve played before.”
Yes, Music Lady. We’ll be gone from Aftershock. Will you follow us—me—or will this be the end of us?
He had so much he wanted to share with her, like the excellent opportunity almost within the band’s grasp. Usually he consulted with his family but for a long time now he’d been hoping to find the right woman to be part of his life. He harbored the hope when they really got to know each other, ML would be that person. He was almost afraid to open himself up to her any more in case she decided to just disappear. Again. “So will you? Come back? I’d like it a lot if you did.”

She hesitated so long he was afraid she’d say no. Then she nodded. “A-All right. I will.”

“When?”

“I…soon.” Impulsively she blew him a kiss. “Bye, Guitar Man.”

She yanked the door open and raced to her car leaving him standing there once again, bare-assed naked, watching her drive away. Somehow he had to find out who she was and how to get in touch with her. Meanwhile, he hoped she meant what she said and she’d be back at Aftershock.

And next time, he’d make sure they stayed awake a while and talked. So he could learn more about her and tell her about himself. He wasn’t about to give up on his Music Lady.

Chapter Eight

Emma straightened up the files on her desk and shut down her computer. The alarm she set on the machine had dinged to let her know it was noon. Time for lunch. She worked by herself in an interior office on the fifth floor of a building and without an alarm, she’d have no idea if it was day or night.

The morning had dragged on as if it had lead feet, and she had a world-class headache from the manuscript she was editing.

Of course, it could also be the fact that I got almost no sleep last night
.

But she had to admit, it had definitely been worth it. Oh yeah, more than worth it. Marc Malone made her feel…oh, unlike any way she’d ever felt before. He woke her body and taught her what real sexual pleasure was. But it was more than that. There was emotion behind it, as if he was trying to tell her something with his actions.