Roustabout (The Traveling #3) (23 page)

I left him on the couch and hurried through my nightly routine, pulling on the only cute pair of pajamas that I owned. Then I had to climb to the back of my closet to find sheets and pillows for my unexpected guest.

Tucker smiled gratefully when I walked back in, murmuring that he’d take his turn in the bathroom.

I made up the couch and waited for him to come back out.

“Are you gonna tuck me in, TC?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“Don’t push your luck, McCoy!”

I turned to walk away, but he caught my hand.

“Wait, TC! I just . . . thanks for letting my sorry ass stay at your place. After everything that went down, it’s really nice of you.”

He squeezed my fingers gently, sincerity shining in his eyes.

“You’re welcome,” I whispered, as he let my hand go.

“Tera,” he called after me. “I don’t know how it will be with Scotty. I don’t know how to be a father . . .”

“You’ll be a great dad, Tucker. I know you will.”

He shook his head, his eyes defeated.

“I’m going to try, but . . .” and he looked up at me. “I’m not with Renee, and I’m not going to be. I just . . . I wanted you to know that.”

I nodded, but didn’t speak. If I had, I might have cried.

Tera

I tried to sleep.

I needed to be at work at 8AM and it had been a tiring week. But even though I screwed my eyes shut and lay as still as a plank of wood, sleep eluded me. Instead, all my moments with Tucker ran like an erotic, pornographic movie behind my eyelids.

Frustrated, I opened my eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

The blanket of darkness left my eyes wide open, giving me too much space to think. Too much room to corral my wayward thoughts. Too much thinking, too many thoughts, and I tossed and turned restlessly.

The Pacific breeze set off the wind chimes that I kept on the balcony, a sound I usually found soothing; and even the quiet hum of the air conditioning seemed loud.

I was listening out for Tucker: a rustle of sheets as he moved around on the couch, soft footfalls on the floor that meant he was coming to my room. But there was nothing.

Silence.

Sighing with frustration, I tiptoed into the kitchen to get a drink of water. Yes, I
could
have gotten water from the bathroom, and yes, I
could
have walked through the bathroom to get to the kitchen. I just happened to walk through the living room instead.

I could see the bulky outline of Tucker’s body on the couch. The sheet had slipped to his waist and I paused beside him, staring at his hard chest, examining the darker shadow of his bruises now that he’d removed his shirt again.

I jumped when he spoke.

“Can’t sleep, sugar?”

“No,” I whispered, then wondered why I was whispering. “No,” I said again, more clearly.

“Me neither.”

He sat up slowly, careful of his damaged shoulder. Then his eyes traveled across my body, pausing at my chest, before looking up at me.

“This ‘friends’ thing is hard,” he said ruefully.

I flopped down next to him on the couch.

“Why did we decide to do this again?” I asked.

He shook his head and sighed. “Because we’re on two different roads, TC. Crossing paths was an accident, but it’s not meant to be.”

I suppressed a giggle at his serious tone. “You’ve been hanging out with that old fortuneteller too much.”

He smiled. “Yeah, probably. Doesn’t make it any less true though.”

“Can’t we make our own road, choose our own path?”

“Do you want to?”

I nodded fervently, but Tucker looked away.

“I don’t see how we . . .”

I placed a finger against his lips.

“Let’s just try.”

He reached for me and then hesitated.

“Fuck, Tera, if we start, I won’t want to stop.”

“I’m not asking you to stop.”

I straddled his lap, lightly resting my hands on his shoulders, and pressed my lips gently against his. A low growl sounded in his throat and he kissed me back, deeply, passionately with an edge of reckless desperation.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since Nashville airport,” he grit out, as his hands slid around to the small of my back, pulling me firmly against his fast-growing erection.

My hands wound into his hair, tightening roughly as our breaths grew ragged, and the way he held me bordered on the edge of painful.

When his hands slid under my pajama top, I could feel his rough palms on the smooth skin of my back, his short nails tracking over my spine. Then he tugged on the hem of my shirt and started to pull it over my body, but let out a curse as he raised his hands.

“Fuckin’ arm!”

He slumped back against the couch massaging his shoulder, his lips peeled back in a grimace.

“Are you alright?” I gasped, laying one hand against his chest, feeling his heart pounding furiously.

He nodded quickly.

“Yeah, sorry. I just forgot . . .”

“It’s okay. Let’s go to my bedroom. We’ve got more room. And then I can ride you properly.”

His eyes widened in shock. “Hearing you talk like that . . . !”

“I’m not a princess, Tucker. I’m a woman. I thought you knew that.”

“Fuck, yeah!” he grunted, his voice husky.

I shuffled back off him, missing the hot press of his body against mine.

“Wait,” he said standing up, his voice an intense rumble. “Your shirt . . .”

I yanked it over my head and he was on me instantly, licking, biting, sucking, kissing, kneading my breasts with his hands, lowering his face to meet them.

“Bed—more room!” I gasped, tearing myself away before he took me right there.

But we didn’t get that far. I crashed into the breakfast bar and Tucker hoisted me up awkwardly with one arm.

“Lift!” he ordered, tugging on the lower edge of my pajama shorts.

I held my weight on my hands as I lifted my butt and he yanked the material off. The granite counter was cold, making me shiver.

Tucker knelt in front of me, pushing my legs apart. I felt wanted and wanton, my head thrown back, my breasts jutting forward, my hands gripping the hard granite. Heat poured from my body, rivulets of sweat running down my back. He nuzzled my stomach, then spread hot kisses over my pubic bone before I felt his tongue pressing inside as he spread me out like an X-rated buffet.

I cried out and my knees shook.

Tucker licked and sucked the soft skin of my inner thigh, then his tongue disappeared inside me. In seconds, I was clenching around him, only his strong hands keeping me from crushing his head with my legs.

I felt Tucker’s soft laugh against my swollen clit, the vibration sending a thrilling shock through my whole body. I gripped onto his hair with both hands, tugging hard.

He hissed as my knuckles whitened, pulling his hair harder, and he retaliated by biting at the soft flesh of my inner thigh.

“Oh, sorry!” I gasped, easing my grip.

He didn’t reply, but slid one hand to my ass, pulling my mound closer to his face, burying himself in my short curls. Looking down, all I could see was the top of his head, but the sounds! I could
hear
how wet I was, and if I wasn’t so close to coming, I would have been mortified.

Tongue, fingers, teeth—his furious attack, his focused concentration, his need to pleasure me regardless of his own arousal sparked my orgasm, catching fire as tremors ran up my body, finally igniting in a rush as my eyes closed and fireworks exploded through my brain.

Pushing me wider, he bit down on my clit, then sucked it hard as I came and came, trembling and groaning.

“I need . . . I need . . .” he hissed, his voice sending a shudder through me.

The words were ripped from him unwillingly, Tucker reluctant to admit how much he wanted this, too.

“What do you need?”

He shook his head slowly.

“You’re asking questions . . . can’t think . . . no blood in my brain . . .”

A breathy giggle erupted out of me and I stood on Bambi legs. Tucker followed quickly, catching my hand in his and kissing me senseless all the way to my room. Against the wall, by the hallway, thudding against the door as we crashed into my room, mindless with need, eyes clouded with desire.

He was naked except for a pair of tight-fitting gray briefs that left nothing to the imagination. Besides, I’d seen Tucker fully erect before, and even now, the head of his dick was pushing out of his waistband.

I gripped hold of him, pressing over the soft material, and I felt the muscles of his stomach tense, his breath hitching at the same time.

Suddenly I wasn’t moving fast enough, and Tucker all but dragged me with him.

As I hit the bed, my knees started to buckle and I fell backwards, Tucker’s one good arm not enough to hold me up any longer.

Vaguely, I was aware of the soft rustle of cotton and the mattress dipping as Tucker climbed in beside me. I felt his aggressive tongue on my breasts, his teasing bites that had me gasping, and finally as he kissed me deeply, I tasted sweet Tucker and my own salty arousal.

“Don’t stop,” I muttered hazily, another orgasm hovering just out of reach.

“Wasn’t gonna.”

I felt the blunt head of his dick at my entrance, rock hard, patience gone as Tucker rotated his hips, ready to crash inside me, but I managed to think coherently and pushed him away.

“Condom!” I hissed, my voice urgent.

His eyes widened. “Shit! I’ve never forgotten that before. Please tell me you have some in your bedside drawer.”

I laughed breathlessly. “I do, but I’m not sure you’ll want to wear it.”

“Why the hell not?”

“It’s a novelty one that a girlfriend gave me. It, um, glows in the dark.”

Tucker laughed hoarsely. “Hell to the yes, even if my dick is going to look like Dr. Banner getting his freak on.”

I reached into the drawer while Tucker rolled onto his back, his chest and stomach rising and falling rapidly.

“Put it on, sugar,” he said, his voice like gravel. “I want to see your hands on my dick.”

“I can do better than that,” I whispered.

I knelt down and pulled his dick toward me, the leaking head glistening. Sucking deliberately hard, Tucker’s hips convulsed toward me and a string of impressive curses rolled from his dirty mouth. In one, long, swallowing motion, I took him inside me.

His tip hit the back of my throat and I moaned around him.

“God, Tera! That sound! You rock my world.”

His hands grabbed my hair, pulling me in more firmly.

It didn’t feel like friendship or even friends with benefits: it felt possessive.

And I liked it.

Tucker

This whole evening—hell, this whole day—had been a complete mind-fuck.

I’d woken up alone, my shoulder pulsing with pain, the owner of a $25,000 Ducati Panigale Super Sports motorcycle.

Now I was broke, bikeless, a busted flush, being given amazing head by the sexiest goddamn woman I’d ever met.

The only thing that hadn’t changed was my fucked up shoulder. And the fact that my kid was out there in the world.

I was thrown, I admit it.

Nothing made sense, but at this moment, this wonderful crazy moment, everything made sense.

I looked down at the hotter than hell sight of Tera’s blonde hair sweeping over my thighs, her red lips stretched around my dick.

As I watched, my mouth hanging open, my chest heaving, I thought I could see her eyes watering. The faint orange glow of street lights shining through her window made it hard to tell, but I gently eased her off of me anyway.

I pulled her onto my chest, kissing her hard to show my appreciation, then I grabbed the condom from the sheet where she’d dropped it and handed it to her.

She stretched out her neck and worked her jaw some.
Yeah, sugar, I’m a big boy
.

Watching her tear open the packet while her eyes were fixed on mine was enough to make my brain melt.

For the first time in a long while, I wondered if I was going to last. I was so damn horny, the odds weren’t good.

Then she rolled the thin latex down my shaft . . . and burst out laughing.

My dick was lit up like a fucking neon sign, glowing a ghoulish yellow, the kind of thing you’d find in the Ghost Train ride at the carnival.

“Jeez, TC, you can’t laugh at him—he’s sensitive like that.”

“I can’t help it,” she wheezed, “he looks so cute in his little jacket. Like a miniature Homer Simpson.”

“Yeah? Well, Homey is looking for his Marge—come here, sugar,” and I grabbed my glowing dick with one hand and guided her hips down with the other, at severe risk of passing out from the pain in my shoulder. It was the only thing that kept me from coming on the spot.

Breath hissed out of her in a long, sexy growl, and she arched her back, taking me in deeper. Then she grabbed her tits and started massaging them, and suddenly I was starring in my favorite porn movie—except that I wasn’t going to get a strange girl deciding to sit on my face later. But hell, reality was better than any two-dimensional digital chick.

She kneaded those amazing tits together, working the nipples, her body writhing from side to side and up and down, drawing my dick in circles. I had to close my eyes and focus on my throbbing shoulder or I would have shot my bolt there and then.