Rock Bottom (Bullet) (11 page)

She felt his teeth graze her belly as his free hand slid up the back of her other leg, up to her ass.  He started to stand
, and she let her leg ease down so her foot was back on the floor, but he kept his thumb in place, and he moved it in a circle until she moaned again.  She almost cried when he pulled it out from under her panties and stood all the way.  His hands continued gliding up her back to the bottom of her bra.

But she was tired of waiting.  She let go of his hair and grabbed at his leather pants, trying to hold her breath steady.  She got his button undone but could hardly focus as he unsnapped her bra and pulled it down her arms.  She wasn’t going to let go of his zipper, though, and pulled it down.  She could feel the force of his cock underneath the zipper and felt excited, wanting to touch it as though nothing else in world mattered.  His hands barely touched her breasts
, and she felt his mouth on one, moving in for the kill.  She was going to completely lose it when he touched her nipple.  She wanted him to start feeling as out of control as she did, but he was calm and collected, or at least that was how it seemed.

Ah…there he was.
  The only thing holding him back now was the underwear, and if she could get to him first…  But no luck.  His tongue touched on her hypersensitive nipple and she groaned again.  He then put his entire mouth over her nipple, his tongue flicking its delicate nib, and she could tell her breathing was growing heavier.  She didn’t know how much more she could take.

If she could just find her way inside his shorts, but fuck it.  She massaged him through the fabric, cupping all of him as best she could in her palm.  God, he was hard.
  He felt like he was going to explode right there in her hand.  And the way his jaw slackened against her breast as she deepened the massage told her he wasn’t as in control as he appeared.

The bra
had fallen off her left hand as she was trying to work it inside his underwear, so she let go with her right hand and let the bra fall to the floor.

But those fucking tight leather pants were unforgiving.  She let go of his cock and the underwear and brought both hands up to the waistband and pulled. 
Nothing.  She yanked and they started to give way.  She felt him chuckle against her nipple, but he stopped laughing when she finally had his shorts down and both her hands started working his cock.

That was it.  She needed him to feel as desperate as she did.  He was still lavishing plenty of attention on her nipple, but now it was slower, more concentrated, like he had to focus on what he was doing or he’d lose it.
  He kissed his way back up to her collarbone, then her neck, and his hands grabbed her around the waist.  His touch was almost rough.  He said in her ear, “Who are you thinking about right now?”

“What?”

“Right now…who are you thinking about?”

“What do you mean?  I’m thinking about you…
us
.  Is that a problem?”

He looked in her eyes
, and his were dark and dangerous but so smoky hot.  “No…that’s the right answer.”  He kissed her and lay her on the bed.  She’d stopped massaging him, but his cock was still in her hands, and she could feel it pulsing against her fingers.  He was close, and she was more than ready too, even though he’d taken her off guard with his question.  The way he looked, though—as if he could eat her alive—was a massive turn on, and she knew he could tell by the way her chest was heaving.

She could feel a thin film of perspiration on her
upper lip, even though she had cool air blowing through her apartment.  It felt like her bedroom was an opening to hell, though, and in more ways than one.  Not only was she insanely past the boiling point, but that niggling voice in the back of her head told her there was no turning back now, that she could no longer close whatever Pandora’s box she was opening here.

And so his question was heavy with meaning.  Again, she felt like he could read her mind when he asked, “What do you want, Jenna?”

She saw the curve of his bicep to her right—carved out of stone and painted with art to rival Da Vinci—but she felt his left hand holding her hip.  It was possessive, forceful.  She wanted him to take her, to have her…what was it he’d said just minutes earlier in her kitchen?  Every way she’d take him?  She wanted to tell him to take her any way he wanted.  Instead, she grabbed him by the back of his neck and growled, “I want you to fuck me, Ethan.”

She saw just a glimmer in his eyes, almost as though he
were going to smile, but he didn’t.  He lowered his head slowly to hers and kissed her again, hard and consuming, and his hand moved from her hip to the front of her panties.  He grabbed them by the front and started pulling them down.  She lifted her hips up off the bed to help and then they slid down part way.  He sat up on his knees as she lowered her body back to the bed.  He lifted her leg again, reminiscent of the way he’d done at the foot of her bed earlier.  This time, though, he bent her knee and pulled her panties down her lower leg with a speed that felt excruciating.  He pulled them down her foot, over her toes, and then lay her leg back on the bed with precision, as though it were a fragile Faberge egg.  But then, as though to keep her off guard, he pulled them down her other leg fast and hard and leaned over her again.  His eyes drilled into hers, and then he kissed her neck, but he slid his finger down her slit and touched her clit.  She gasped and lost any thought as he forced her mind down below.  His touch was sweet and achingly slow.  She felt his tongue against her neck up to her earlobe.  Then he breathed in her ear.  “I want to hear you call my name, and if you don’t the first time you come, I’ll keep you up all night until you do.”

That was it.  Her legs clenched against his
, and she felt her body give way to an orgasm that surely she’d been holding inside her entire life.  “Oh, God,” she cried.

If she hadn’t been so
rapt in the forces created by her body’s flood of endorphins rushing through her veins, she might have laughed when he said, “Close…”

This meant a lot to him, and much as she liked the idea of having multiple orgasms all night long, she knew she couldn’t take it.  He was making her feel like she had the wings of an angel, so why couldn’t she give him the one thing he’d asked for?  “Oh, Ethan…”

“That’s it, baby.”  He didn’t stop moving that finger that had played hundreds of songs onstage, and that was what it felt like…as though he were fretting an intense metalcore breakdown.  She could almost hear the bass drum beating and a single cymbal crashing in her head.  He was…he was playing her like his guitar, and she was responding by making music.  She was so near laughter but not at his technique.  He was flooding her body with a massive onslaught of feeling, one she’d never experienced before.

She started coming down and he whispered, “You want to feel me, baby?”

“Yeah, yeah.”  She was breathless but she did; she wanted him inside her.  His pants were still on, just halfway down his thighs, and he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket.  Even in her state of semi-stupor, she noticed it was attached to a wallet chain.  God, he really was the epitome of a rock god, and here he was, fucking her brains completely out of her head.  She hoped she could help make his orgasm as good as hers, but she didn’t know that she had it in her.  He’d drained her completely.

He slid a condom on and she felt his cock pressing against her.  “Ready?”

She tried to take a deep breath, but it hitched halfway down her chest as though she’d just jumped in an icy lake.  “Yeah.”

He almost smiled but it was a smirk. 
“You sure?”

“Yeah.”
  She touched his chest, dragging her hands down till she felt the hairy trail on his lower abdomen, and he entered her, a slow rhythm at first.  She could almost hear it—the bass drum, the crash cymbal, a heavy driving guitar solo melody played against the lower bass.  And then she became the vocalist, crying out again, tilting her pelvis so she could take him all.  She cried aloud, not sure if she’d said his name again or not, but she was nearly out of her mind.  She knew she was cursing too, demanding and insistent, begging him to never stop.  And she couldn’t help it, but she felt her nails digging into his back.  She didn’t have long, prissy, professionally manicured nails; they weren’t even painted, because when she bothered, they were black, and she didn’t think that looked proper for her profession, but they were still long enough to do damage.  That was when he moaned out loud and let loose, when her nails dug in, and she would have wondered if she’d hurt him, but he was clearly in the throes of his own orgasm.

“Oh, fuck me!” he yelled
and groaned, slowing down in his rhythm just enough that she could tell he was relishing the feel of his cock against the confines of her pussy.  She squeezed against him, hoping to increase the pleasure he felt and he moaned again.  As he stopped, she could feel each pulse of his cock releasing its load into the safety of the condom wrapped around him.  It was in that moment that she felt closest to him, as though they’d broken through some barrier that had been stopping them from ultimate understanding.

He thrust one more time, what seemed to be an instinctive move, and she kissed his neck, feeling tenderness and connection to this man she hadn’t met too long ago.  He felt so right at that moment, so perfect, and as he looked at her, a thin film of sweat clinging to his
brow, she thought her life would never get better than it was right now.

Chapter Sixteen

SHE DIDN’T UNDERSTAND him.  Yeah, he knew Valerie loved him—he could see that in her eyes, in her unending devotion, but just as he’d always suspected, she just didn’t
get
him.  She didn’t understand what made him tick, and she probably never would.  And Ethan thought that would be okay.  He knew…he knew she’d come from a sheltered home, had never had to go through the shit he’d had to go through, but…sometimes it was exhausting trying to explain it to her.

Still…she seemed to love him unconditionally.  Part of him was pissed about that, but part of him felt overwhelming gratitude for it.

He lay in bed and he could hear voices talking quietly, but not so quietly that he couldn’t hear them.  It was his best friend, his
brother
Brad, and Val, talking in the kitchen.  As he stirred from sleep, he strained to hear them.  It sounded like Brad was in his usual lecture mode, the part of Brad that pissed Ethan off more than anything else the guy did.  And it probably angered him because Brad was often right.

He heard Brad say,
“Something I should worry about?”

Then Val said,
“Oh, no.  No.  Hell, no.  I’m just…not eating as much and I’m exercising a lot.  I’m not starving, and I’m definitely not doing drugs.”

Oh…he was riding Val’s ass about losing some weight.  Brad was being his typical worrywart self.  Val was looking hotter than ever.  She didn’t look emaciated or anything.  She was just losing the extra little bit of weight she’d been carrying.

“Okay.  Good.  Just…you really
are
our muse, Val.  I…”  Ethan sat up in bed, straining even harder to hear, but he lost the next words Brad said.  He knew what was happening.  Val and Brad had never admitted it, not even to themselves, but they loved each other.  Ethan had prayed it wasn’t true, but he knew better.  He saw the way they looked at each other.  It was just a matter of time before he lost her for good.  That fresh realization hit him hard, and he opened the nightstand next to the bed.  He had a small box inside, one that no one else ever opened.  He knew, because they would have ragged his ass about it if they’d ever noticed it.  He grabbed two little pills out and swallowed them.  They were hard to get down because his mouth was so dry, and the coating was bitter against the side of his throat.  He noticed a glass of water on the dresser across the room and got out of bed.  He drank the entire glass down while listening to more of the conversation.

He heard Val say, “What?”

Brad said, “I feel the need to protect you.”  Yeah…fucking knight in shining armor.  Just what Val needed.  Jesus.  It was a miracle she even stayed with Ethan now.  Brad was too fucking perfect.  How could he compete with that?  Brad, the breadwinner; Brad, the master songwriter; Brad, the incredible guitarist.  Bradley, the fucking upstanding citizen.

Brad, his brother, his best friend.  He knew the guy loved Val, but Brad had some fucking stupid code…he wouldn’t touch her because of some dumb
ass promise he’d made her dad.  And Ethan knew her weakness, that she cared for
him
, for Ethan, and he exploited it.  He’d wanted her since he’d first met her and damned if his brother was gonna get in on that.  Hell, no.  Val was
his
girl, not Brad’s.  Still…

He could hear their continuing conversation as the pills hit him.  Whoa. 
Some good fucking shit.  He heard Val say, “From what?”

“Lots of things.
  I…just want you safe.”

Ethan started moving out of the bedroom, getting his bearings.  He wasn’t completely out of his mind yet.  He was pleasantly buzzed.  But he wanted to see what the hell was going on.  Val kept talking. 
“I
am
safe, right?”  She paused.  “Right?”

Brad’s voice faltered. 
“Yeah, sure.  You are.”  What the fuck was he going to say next?  Ethan clenched his jaw, forcing one foot in front of the other.  “Just…just remember you have a friend here, okay?”

“I know that.”

Ethan made his way into the kitchen. 
Goddamn son of a bitch. 
Val’s hand was on Brad’s. 
Something
was going on between them; Ethan was sure of it…either that or it was starting. 
Fuck.
  And what convinced him of that was how quickly Val pulled her hand off Brad’s as soon as Ethan walked in the room, like Brad’s hand had suddenly caught on fire.  He kept his cool; only heaven knew how.  He sat down at the table and Val asked, as though nothing had been going on, “Hey, how’d you sleep?”

He had to keep his cool…he was tough.  He could do this. 
“For shit.”

Brad
looked at him, “There’s plenty of coffee if you want it.”

He didn’t want fucking coffee.  He want
ed his best friend to not make fucking moves on his girl.  He wanted to possess her, right here, right now, drill into her that she was his, only his.  He said, “Nah.  I
know
what I want.”

Fuck.  They two of them shared a knowing glance.  Were they already sleeping together?  No…surely not.  He’d known Brad for far too long.  He had some weird sense of honor.  No way would he do that without confessing to Ethan…that much he knew.  But what were they thinking? 
The two of them communicated without even talking.  Again, it reaffirmed his worst fears.  Christ.  He didn’t have a chance in hell.  He knew it was just a matter of time.

Brad the saint said,
“Think it through, man.”

Whatever the fuck
that
was supposed to mean.  “Fuck off, Bradley.”

Val had to get in the middle, though.  He couldn’t even challenge Brad
, and she was all over it.  “Can we please stop?”

Brad
stood up and walked over to the sink, rinsing out his coffee cup.  “I gotta go to work anyway.  Nice talkin’ with ya, Val.”  Ethan looked at his best friend.  How the hell could he compete with this man?  Yeah…he knew Brad was a good-looking guy, but there was more to it than that.  He saw the appeal; he was no fool.  But he was leaving…which meant Brad’s influence over Val—for a short while anyway—might wane.

Once
his friend was out the door, Ethan leaned over the table and put his hand around the back of Val’s neck.  He had to know.  He knew he’d be able to tell if Val was lying.  He took a deep breath and asked, “So what’s going on with you and my bro?”  He had to know before it went any further.  The truth might hurt, but it would be worse if he let it go further.

“Nothing.
  You know Brad and I are close.”

Was she being completely honest? 
“I know you
were
very close.  Anything I should be worried about?”

“No. 
Of course not.”  She sighed and looked at him as though he were a child.  “Don’t be that way, Ethan.”

“
What
way?”

“Possessive and covetous.”

So he wasn’t allowed to worry about losing his girl to his best friend?  She wasn’t taking this seriously.  Still…he didn’t want to scare her.  He smiled. 
Fuck.
  The pills were starting to sink in deep, and he was starting to feel light.  “Covetous?”

“Yeah.
  I’m with
you
, Ethan.  I
love
you.”

That made him feel
better…and hornier than hell.  She’d chosen him…at least for now.  His heart swelled and his cock followed suit.  She was right about one thing…he
was
feeling possessive.  “Then let’s go fuck.”

She looked shocked at first, but he could also see she was intrigued too, no matter what words were going to come out of her mouth in protest.  She didn’t say a word, though.  Instead, she just took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

By that point, he was fucked up beyond belief.  He felt like an animal and could hardly remember how it progressed, but before he knew it, he was entering her from behind and fucking her mindless.  He wanted to make sure she was enjoying herself too, though, so he made sure to play with her clit.  He could tell by the way she was breathing that she was close and
fuck, yeah. 
She grabbed his hair, pressing her breasts against the mirror as she started screaming in ecstasy.  Yeah…that was it.  That was his girl.  And he came too.  There was nothing like being inside Valerie, sharing that moment with that woman, and he held her close.

So he didn’t understand when she struggled out of his arms and turned around, angry.  She was like a fucking rattlesnake ready to strike.  She said,
“Ethan, what the hell?  Where’s the condom?”

Oh, fuck.  He tried to concentrate.  Yeah…shit.  He hadn’t put one on.  What
the fuck was he supposed to say?  He tried to find an answer, an apology, something to say.  He’d been so happy, so complete just seconds ago, and now it was crashing down.

Fuck.  Yeah…was it any wonder she loved Brad so much?  Ethan had fucked up again.

And what she said next made it even worse.  “Oh, my God.  You’re high, aren’t you?  What the hell?”  Oh, God, what could he say to make it better?  She pulled those cute little pink panties up over her hips, but she was fucking
pissed
.  “Get out of here, Ethan.  I have to get ready for work.”

Could he make it better? 
“Come on, babe.  Don’t be mad.”

“Seriously.
  Get the hell out.”  She shoved him out the door, and he knew he’d be an even bigger asshole if he refused to go.  Still…it looked like she was going to cry, and he wanted to comfort her.  He wanted to comfort himself too…and before
he
started to give in to that fucking dark cloud that kept hovering, he went back into the other bedroom and lay on the bed, letting the pills take completely over.  Yeah…he could get through this.

Ethan bit down on his lip.  He couldn’t believe he’d just told Jenna that story.  He’d been mulling it over earlier that night as he’d been thinking more and more about the gorgeous redhead lying next to him.  Her eyes were closed but she was listening to him, and she’d ask the occasional question.  She couldn’t help that she was still a counselor at her core.  He was glad that she was listening, though, and not sleeping.

He remembered why he’d been telling her, though.  After the mind-bending orgasm he’d experienced, he’d rolled on his side and pulled her close.  He hadn’t felt this way about a woman in such a long time.  She’d looked at him through the hazy eyes of post-coital bliss
, so beautiful, and asked him what he was thinking.  Well, dumb ass that he was, he didn’t have the balls to tell her everything…that he was thinking he cared about her more than he’d cared about anyone in a long time.  Instead, he said he’d been thinking about his ex all day and how, for some reason, tonight had made him think of the time he’d walked in on an intimate conversation between Val and Brad.  She’d been
mucho
cool about it, though…he hadn’t realized until he was almost done with his story that she’d see what an insecure wreck he’d been with Valerie, and the drugs that should have helped often made it worse.  It didn’t matter what he was taking; it was bound to fuck things up.  And surely she’d made the connection…that she, Jenna, meant
something
to him…otherwise, he wouldn’t have been thinking those thoughts, wouldn’t have associated Jenna with Val in a million years.  He was impressed and relieved that she didn’t say shit about it.  She was a counselor, trained in that shit.  She no doubt understood his motivations better than he himself did.

He wanted to take the spotlight off himself.  He knew he should just let Jenna sleep.  She looked so peaceful, so tired, but he had to know something.  “So…what’s it mean?”

Her eyelids fluttered until she opened them.  “Hmm?”

He wasn’t looking under the sheet, but he could remember exactly where that tattoo was…on that gorgeous flesh on her upper left thigh.  He slid his hand over
where he remembered it was.  “Your tat.  What’s it mean?”

Something flashed in her eyes
then, and he could tell she was considering not telling him what was on her mind.  But then she said, “Just what it says. 
Never again.
  Never again…”  She took a deep breath and looked at Ethan’s chin, as though she couldn’t bear seeing his eyes.  “Never again will I give my heart over to someone else, just to have it trampled and disregarded.”

Ethan wanted to say something, but he was the
last
person who should say a word, because he knew that was exactly what he’d done to Valerie.  Yeah, he felt like
his
heart had been trampled by the love that Val and Brad shared, but he’d never told Val any of that.  He figured saying something would make him look like a pathetic insecure puppy dog, something he’d never wanted to be in Val’s eyes.  He’d rather be the badass jerkwad motherfucker she’d grown to know and love…and then give up on.  His reputation would remain untarnished.

Nor would he tell
any of that to this goddess lying next to him.  She’d heard enough from him tonight.  Still…they had some inexplicable connection, and he felt he had to tap into it just once more.  “I know what that feels like, and it sucks.”  He nodded, his thumb still stroking the skin where he knew her tattoo was.  “It’s best to just shield your heart.”