ROCK F*CK CLUB (Girls Ranking the Rock Stars Book 6) Page 10
He lowered his head, hooked his fingers into the delicate scrap of lace over my pussy, and ripped it. Wetness that had been trapped behind the gossamer material trickled down my inner thighs. He lapped it away in a few greedy licks.
“A bright hope and a dark dream, you taste like both.”
He licked firmly across my mound. His tongue was wet, his mustache and beard soft. I trembled with need as he drew around my swollen clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Stop,” I begged as my empty cunt throbbed. “I want you inside me.”
“Not this time.” He pinned me with a hot glare. “I want to watch you come.”
Dropping his head, he returned to his task. My pulse pounding hard between my legs, I lifted my hips to his worshipful tongue. My arms at my sides, my hands fisted, I thrashed my head and moaned when he put his lips on my swollen clit.
“You’re so good.” I shuddered when he kissed, then sucked on me. “So, so good,” I said on a moan.
The fire he built with his firm lips, suction, and wet tongue was unquenchable. He hummed low, and the vibrations shot straight through me. My pussy rhythmically clenching, I hurtled toward the edge, going over it when he drove his tongue inside me.
“Gale! Oh, Gale!” I cried out as I came.
“You’re so perfect, Jo.” He scooped me off the piano as the tremors rolled through me. Carrying me to the wall of windows, he put me down.
I wobbled on the unfamiliar heels of my sandals, watching with rounded eyes and shortened breaths as he unbuckled his belt and undid the button on his slacks. The room was so quiet, so hushed, I heard the rasp of the zipper as he lowered it.
“Babe.” His eyes were languid pools of gray. “I want you to ride me.”
I wanted that too, and licked my dry lips as he shoved his slacks and boxers to his thighs. His member sprang free, thick and hard.
“Lay down.” I rasped out the words. Seeing his need made me feel needy too.
“But—”
“Don’t care about your socks and shoes,” I said. “I just want your cock inside me.”
His mouth curving, he dropped onto the floor and stretched one arm out to me. “Come then.” He crooked his fingers.
Nodding, I threw my leg over him. New wetness trickled down my thighs as he stared up at me. He could see all of me. I was totally exposed. His cock pointed straight at my pussy.
“You’ll have to help me.” My arms remained trapped at my sides, so I lowered myself carefully. When my knees met the carpet, he wrapped his fingers around his cock and brought it to where we both needed it to go.
“Gale . . .” I moaned, shuddering. Just the nudge of his engorged head at the entrance to my cunt felt so good.
Planting my hands on his hard chest, I took him in, inch by inch. The silk of his shirt was cool, but his skin was hot underneath it, like his cock was. I gasped as he suddenly surged his hips up, filling me fuller with him. I mewed in pleasure.
He groaned, and grabbing my hips, lifted me and slammed me right back down on his cock again. I might be riding him, but he was controlling the pace. “Jo. Beautiful Jo.”
His eyes dark, he chanted my name as he drove into me again and again. My freed tits bounced, and his sexy lips twisted into a hungry snarl. I threw back my head and enjoyed the hell out of the ride, soaking his cock as he pumped into me. Our rhythmic motion catching my eye, I saw our reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window.
“One directional.” He saw me looking, and he watched for a moment too. His hips were a piston for his thick cock as he drove into me. Harder and harder, he fucked me, and I took what he gave.
I moaned again, unable to help myself. Wetter and hotter, it rushed up for me. I surrendered to it, to us, to him. We were perfect together like this.
In seconds, he was there too. Groaning, he lifted his hips, and then stiffened. His cock as deep as it could go inside me, streamers of his heat filled me.
Lifted high and set free from the ties that bound us, we both flew. Above the world. Among the stars. In a universe all our own.
Gale
“YOU SLEEPY?” JO ASKED, lifting her pretty head and resting her chin on my chest.
“No,” I said, though I should be tired after driving all day and having her twice. Once in the room by the piano, then a second time in the shower before we’d finally focused on showering for the purpose of getting clean.
But twice wasn’t enough. It was never enough. Every time I had her, I only wanted her again.
Shifting, I pulled myself higher in the bed, bringing her with me. Of course I brought her with me. No way in hell was I letting this woman go, literally or figuratively. I’d only just begun to show her what it meant for her to be mine, but in typical Jo fashion, she was dragging her Doc Martens, fighting me.
A fight she would not win.
“Do you want to make love again?” Dancing her fingers across my chest, she peered up at me with those heart-stealing sapphire eyes of hers.
“You know I do.” I bit back a groan. Fire licked across my skin from her addictive touch. My cock tented my boxers and the coverlet over us. “But you should try to get some sleep. We both should. We have to get up early in the morning.”
“Again?” She pouted her lush, lickable lips.
I nodded, trying to beat back the memory of those lush lips around my cock.
“I didn’t think I would like Vegas, but I do.” She tilted her head to a considering angle, and her long hair fell over her cheek, the ends tickling my chest.
“I’m glad you changed your mind,” I said gruffly.
It was a challenge to focus with her pretty eyes on me, her kissable lips so close, her gorgeous face to gaze at. Not to mention her insanely sexy body. Perfect tits and her long shapely legs, I had all that perfection draped over me. My pulse was at a jackhammer pace. It was nearly all the fucking time around her.
“I love being with you on top of the world.” Her electric gaze sparked violet with a wistful glow.
Windows into her soul, sometimes sapphire and sometimes violet, those eyes of hers revealed her compelling strength, her sharp intelligence, her sweet soul, her fiery passion, and her love. All that I had won, and all that I intended to keep.
“I love it too, Jo.”
I would love anywhere with her. But in a way, I didn’t love it here because we were too far removed from reality. I knew I needed to show her, prove to her, that we were just as amazing on solid ground as we were high above it.
“I have a few other cool stops planned on this road trip that I think you’ll like.” Capturing a strand of her midnight hair, I twirled it around my finger. I marveled at the sheen and the silken texture, marveled at the woman I held, and my good fortune to have her.
“Your surprises are definitely growing on me.” Her lips parted, her cheeks turning pink with heat.
A part of me heated up too—heated up more—remembering, as she likely was, how we’d looked together downstairs in the piano room reflected in the glass. She had given me all of herself. We weren’t going fucking backward again. She was all mine—no reservations, no holding back. I would have that all the time, and I wouldn’t accept less.
“Glad, Jo. I’ll do my best to top this one, but I’m all out of surprises for the night.”
“Doesn’t seem like your cock is sleepy.” She tiptoed her fingers down my abs, heading straight for the prize.
“You, with your sexy body pressed to mine?” I snatched her hand before she had me. “Of course my cock is ready to go again. But my brain overrules this time.” I brought her hand back to my chest and tucked it there. “Sleep. We have a lot of driving to do tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice light and lyrical. “But could you read to me just a little more from The Expanse?” She returned her soft cheek to my chest and snuggled closer.
“I wasn’t sure you liked it.” I stroked her hair. “You fell asleep on me the last time I read to you.”
“I love listening to
your voice while you read. And the story is interesting with all the competing factions. But I’m also intrigued by the personal relationships between the characters.” She lifted her head, her silver hoop piercing in her brow glinting as it caught and reflected the light from the lamp. “Do you think Miller is really in love with Julie?”
“Yes,” I said, after thinking about it for a beat. “I believe he is.”
“You think you can fall in love with someone just from looking at a picture?”
“I think you can.” After one glimpse at Jo, it had gone about that fast for me. “Looking at one of you, I would.”
“Oh, Gale. I couldn’t think of anyone else after running into you in that hallway in Dallas.” She sighed as if that were a memory she treasured.
When her warm breath gusted over my skin, my cock gave an eager jump. Now I wanted to sigh too, more like a groan of frustration. It was going to be a long night.
“What I mean about Miller,” she said, “is he didn’t really know Julie. How could he from only a photograph?”
“He knew the type of woman she was from her actions.”
Jo’s actions, minus the mistake she couldn’t seem to forgive herself for, proved her worth. She just couldn’t see it. Part of the problem with us was her inability to give herself absolution. I understood that. I understood her. The hardest person to forgive was yourself after losses like we’d both endured.
“I guess so,” she said, frowning. “It’s interesting to think someone could be so sure about someone else that quickly.”
“It’s something to consider for another day. Right now, you need to rest. Close your eyes. Relax.”
Cradling her head to my chest, I got that she was hinting about me and my being certain about us after only a short time. With her background of neglect and then later rejection by those who should have stood by her as an adult, she found it difficult to have the faith in us that I did.
I’ll get her where she needs to be, I thought as I stroked her hair, and eventually, her breathing evened out.
Our love wasn’t a hypothetical. It was real, and it was only a matter of time until that realization took hold.
• • •
Something is wrong.
I opened my eyes, not knowing what time it was or how long I’d slept. But the wrongness I sensed was the absence of Jo in my bed.
Then the music registered. Notes floated through the air. It was Jo’s song being played on the piano, but the fingers moving over the keys were more proficient than mine.
I threw back the covers, inhaling the scent of the sweet cherry-scented bath gel we’d both used when showering. When my bare feet hit the plush carpet, I exited the bedroom and strode fast through the hall.
My footfalls down the stairs were as sure as my certainty about her and me and our future.
I didn’t slow until I reached the room where she was. At the piano, she was completely engrossed, oblivious to my presence. Her eyes half-closed, she was lost in the music. A lover we shared. One I wasn’t jealous of.
Seated on the edge of the piano bench, her spine was straight, her wrists loose, her form perfect. The sounds she coaxed from the instrument were even more so. Entranced, I moved closer. I had to. When near her, I was always compelled to be closer.
“Gale.” She turned her head, and when she saw me, her fingers stumbled on the keys.
“Don’t stop. Please.” I inclined my head. “Continue.”
Nodding, she did, and I slipped in beside her on the bench.
When she reached the chorus, I found an opening and put my fingers on the keys, taking over the melody. She continued playing the complementary notes that had been missing before, providing just what the song needed. Full, epic, soaring, all the individual pieces fit together perfectly.
When we reached the end of the piece, I swiveled to face her, my eyes wide. “We need to record that right now.”
“Already did.” She reached up to grab her phone from the music rack and swiped her finger over the screen. “Just forwarded a file to you.”
“You’re a pianist.” I raised a brow.
“I started taking lessons when I was five.” She shrugged as if what she’d just revealed wasn’t huge.
I shook my head in disbelief. “You told me you didn’t play.”
“I said I didn’t play the guitar.” She wrinkled her nose at me as if the thought of that were distasteful. “I’m proficient on the piano, but I have absolutely zero interest in taking up an instrument that was my father’s claim to fame.” She placed her hand over mine. “No offense to you, though. I love to listen when you play guitar.”
“Wrong word choice.”
“What is?” Her brows pinched in confusion.
“Proficient means merely competent.” I shook my head. “You on the piano are more than merely competent. You’re a virtuoso.”
“I play what I feel when my fingers hit the keys.” She dropped her chin to her chest. Her ebony hair fell forward, hiding her enchanting face. “Or I used to.”
I dipped my hand into the black curtain and drew it back, revealing her again. “Why did you give it up?” I asked gently, and she sighed.
“I was too sad to play after Joey died.”
“The pain blocks out everything,” I said softly. “Light, music, hope, joy. All that’s left inside you is silence. The kind of quiet that’s deafening.”
“Yes.” She gave me a searching look. “Is that how it was for you?”
I nodded. “Until I met you.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t argue with me. “I haven’t played the piano in years. I had no desire to.” She reached out, and her fingers curled comfortingly around mine.
I experienced the rush of attraction that I always did with her, but staring into her eyes with her making herself vulnerable to me, I felt so much more. Being a singer-songwriter was my calling, but being with Jo was my destiny.
“I wasn’t sure I remembered how to play. But once I placed my fingers on the keys, it all came back to me and I didn’t want to stop.” She gave me an apologetic glance. “I didn’t mean to stay down here so long and wake you. And I wasn’t trying to mislead you about the instruments I can play.”
“It’s okay, and I know you weren’t. You’ve been hurt. It’s hard for you to share what you bury down deep. You’ve walled off those things that mean the most to you.”
She sighed and glanced away. “Yes.”
“It means so much to me when you share like you did just now.” I thought about how Jo pointed to Dolly as the empathetic one between them. But the way I saw it, both women had sensitive hearts that were more like than unlike. Jo just guarded hers more fiercely.
“There’s a lot of stuff associated with the piano inside my mind, some good memories, some bad.” She shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal, but we both knew it was.
“Such as?” I asked quietly.
“My brother, mostly.” She let out a breath that lifted a wispy tendril of her hair. “I play by ear easily. But learning the mechanics for me was hard. I wanted to give up many times, but Joey wouldn’t let me.”
“He was a good brother to you.”
“The best.” Her brow creased, and her gaze turned unfocused. “He was hard on me when he needed to be hard. Gentle when I needed only a nudge. He never once turned his back on me when I asked for his help. Not in the little things, like late-night problems with homework, or the bigger ones, like comforting me when my father or mother made me cry. Even when what they did upset him too.”
Strength. Dedication. Loyalty. Understanding. I saw a lot of those qualities she admired in her brother in her, but I didn’t point that out. Jo downplayed or deflected compliments. She didn’t have the faith yet to see herself the way I and her bandmates did.
“Your sense of loyalty comes from your brother’s example.”
“Yes.” She nodded, accepting that. “And my love for music.”
“Did your parents give you
any encouragement at all?”
She shook her head.
Jo was an amazing vocalist, a soprano with a wide range, and a gifted pianist. Her father was a world-famous guitarist, so he had to have recognized her talent. Him not encouraging her at all, I couldn’t fathom it.
“When we were young, my mother insisted Joey and I choose an instrument. Joey picked the guitar. I chose the piano.”
My brows drew together. “But he was the drummer in his band.”
“Yes. He rejected the guitar after my father abandoned us that final time.” Her expression darkened. “My mother thought if she could make us into accomplished performers, my father would accept us, accept her. Stay with us.”
“Did it work?”
“He couldn’t have cared less. We never rated consideration. It was always about him. His career. His talent. His music. My mother was a convenience for him. My brother and I were afterthoughts. Ones he would rather not be bothered to acknowledge.”
“He’s narcissistic.” A lot of musicians I’d met over the years were like that. The spotlight was their mistress. Their addiction of choice.
“Very narcissistic with an extremely short attention span. When he found a new woman to enable him like my mother had, he moved on to her.”
“Your half sister’s mother?”
“Melinda’s mom was the next woman in line to enable him. He married her, but from all the accounts I read, he was never faithful.” Jo swiveled on the bench to look at me, her eyes glowing bold blue and magnetic violet. “You’re stern with me when necessary. Gentle. Understanding. Lavish in your love. The things I admired most about my brother, I admire so much in you.”
“Jo.” I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. Apparently, I had difficulty of my own accepting compliments, especially those as monumental as that one. When I opened my eyes, she was waiting patiently and watching me. And she wasn’t done yet.
“Joey would have loved you for me,” she said softly.
Her voice wasn’t loud, but the words resonated inside my chest as if they’d been spoken into a microphone and blasted out through stacked stadium speakers.