Chapter 20
JACK
The meeting with Robert ran late, then the media obligations dragged on forever. Smile for the camera, answer the same questions about my “maturity” and “focus” for the hundredth time, pretend I give a shit about anything other than getting back to Dark River.
Getting back to her.
When I finally arrive I punch in the code she gave me and push the door open. The apartment is quiet except for music drifting down the hallway from her bedroom. Soft guitar chords and her voice weaving through them, and I stop in the entryway just listening for a second.
I close the door quietly and follow the music down the hallway. Her voice draws me forward, this ethereal quality that gets under my skin. It’s delicate but powerful at the same time, the kind of sound that wraps around you and doesn’t let go.
I stop in her bedroom doorway and just watch her.
She’s sitting cross-legged on her bed, guitar cradled in her lap, hair piled on top of her head in a bun with pieces falling down to frame her face.
She’s wearing a grey sweater that’s slipping off one shoulder and black leggings, and she’s so focused on what she’s playing that she hasn’t noticed me yet.
I lean against the doorframe, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face. This is what I’ve been missing all day. Not just her, but this. Seeing her do what she loves, completely in her element, that little furrow between her eyebrows when she’s concentrating.
“That sounds amazing,” I say.
She jumps about a foot in the air, her head snapping up. The guitar makes a discordant twang as her fingers slip.
“Jack!” Her face lights up even brighter than before, shock melting into a wide smile, and she’s already setting the guitar aside carefully, scrambling off the bed with zero grace. “You’re back! I didn’t hear you come in!”
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” I tell her, crossing the room and catching her as she throws herself at me, my arms wrapping around her waist automatically. I lift her slightly, and fuck, she feels perfect pressed against me. “You were in the zone.”
“I’ve been working on this song all afternoon,” she says, her arms wrapping around my neck, and then she’s kissing me and I forget about everything else.
She tastes like something sweet, probably that strawberry chapstick she’s always wearing, and I can’t get enough of her. I kiss her deeper, my hands sliding under her sweatshirt to touch bare skin, and she makes this little sound that drives me absolutely crazy.
“Missed you,” she mumbles against my mouth when we finally break apart for air, both of us breathing hard.
“Missed you too,” I tell her, my hands still on her waist, thumbs brushing circles on her hipbones. “So fucking much. Today was torture.”
“Tell me about it,” she says, pulling back just enough to look at me, and her eyes are sparkling with happiness and heat. “I didn’t expect you to get back from Seattle so fast. Feels like you just texted that you were leaving Robert’s.”
“Yeah well, I drive fast,” I say as I lean in to kiss her again because I can’t help myself. “It’s kind of my thing.”
She rolls her eyes, laughing against my mouth. “How did it go with Robert?”
“Good. Contract talk is still ongoing but he seems optimistic.” I brush my fingers along her jaw, loving how she leans into my touch. “Ferrari’s been making noises about wanting me back in the sim more often, which Thomas thinks is a good sign.”
She grins, her hands sliding down to rest on my chest. “I’m so happy for you.” She pauses, biting her lip in that way that tells me she’s excited about something. “Speaking of good news, I got an email this afternoon from the label!”
The way her whole face lights up when she’s happy—I could watch that forever. “Yeah? What’d they say?”
She pulls back completely, practically bouncing now as she grabs her phone from the nightstand. “Okay so basically Maya said they’re super impressed with the Instagram growth and they want me to come to LA!”
“Lark, that’s incredible!” I pull her back against me, lifting her off her feet for a second. Her laugh is bright and unrestrained, and I want to bottle that sound. Want to hear it every day for the rest of my life. The thought should scare me but it doesn’t.
“I know!” she says when I set her down, her hands gripping my arms. “They want to talk about my sound, my vision, where I see my career going. It’s all happening next weekend.”
“That’s huge,” I say. “You’re going to kill it.”
“I’m terrified,” she admits, but she’s still grinning. “But also so excited I could throw up. Maybe both at the same time.”
“They’d be insane not to sign you,” I tell her firmly, my hands on her shoulders so she has to look at me. “Your songs, your voice—you’re the whole package, Lark.”
“You have to say that, you’re sleeping with me,” she teases.
“I’d say it even if I wasn’t,” I counter.
She laughs. “It’s next weekend. Are you free to come? I mean, if you don’t have Formula One commitments or anything. I know the timing might not work with your schedule.”
“I’ll be there,” I say without hesitation. I’d cancel whatever I had to cancel. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Her smile could light up the entire fucking city. “Really?”
“Really,” I confirm, pulling her close again. “I want to be there. Plus I could use a few days in LA anyway. We can make a trip out of it.”
“Thank god,” she breathes, melting against me. “I’ve been dying to tell you all day. I wanted to tell you in person but I’ve been going crazy keeping it to myself.”
Warmth spreads through my chest hearing that she was thinking about me, that I’m the person she wanted to share this with first. That I get to be the one here for these moments.
“I’m glad you waited,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “This deserves celebrating in person.”
“You know,” she says as a wicked smile spreads across her face, the one that makes me want to do very bad things to her. “I was thinking about you even before that email came through.”
“Oh yeah?” I slide my hands down to her hips, pulling her flush against me, feeling the heat of her through our clothes. My pulse kicks up. “What were you thinking about?”
“I think,” she says slowly, deliberately, rising up on her toes so her mouth is barely an inch from mine, her breath warm against my lips, “it’s better if I actually show you.”
“I don’t know,” I murmur, my hands tightening on her hips. “You’re pretty good with words. Songwriter and all.”
“Jack, if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now—”
I kiss her hard, cutting off whatever threat she was about to make, and everything else disappears.
Her mouth opens under mine immediately and I deepen the kiss, tasting her, claiming her.
My hands slide down to grip her ass, pulling her hard against me so she can feel exactly what she does to me, and she gasps into my mouth.
“Get to the bed,” I manage to get out against her lips, already walking her backwards. “Now.”
She doesn’t need to be told twice. Her hands are pulling at my shirt, tugging it up as we stumble across the room. The backs of her knees hit the mattress and we fall onto the bed together, me above her, her underneath me with her hair spread out on the pillow. Fuck, she’s gorgeous.
I pull my shirt over my head and toss it somewhere behind me. Her hands immediately wrap around my neck.
“Hi,” she says, grinning up at me.
“Hi yourself.” I lean down and kiss her again while the tips of my fingers brush over her cheekbones. Her skin is so soft I could touch her forever.
Her hands slide to my jeans, working at my belt. I lean back just enough to shove my jeans and boxers off, then reach for the hem of her tank top. She lifts her arms and I pull it off, revealing she’s not wearing anything underneath.
“Fuck,” I breathe.
I lean down and take one nipple in my mouth. She makes this intoxicating sound, half surprise, half pleasure, and her hips roll up against mine.
I kiss down between her breasts, taking my time to taste every inch of her skin.
Kissing her feels addictive. I hook my fingers in the waistband, pulling it inch by inch down her thighs, past her knees, off completely along with her underwear.
She’s completely bare now, laid out in front of me like a feast.
I can see how wet her pussy is already, glistening and ready for me, and my mouth waters.
“Lark,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her clit. She moans and her whole body responds. “You’re already so wet.”
“I told you,” she gasps out, her hips rolling up to seek more pressure. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”
I slide one finger through her folds slowly, and circle her clit once, twice. She makes this desperate sound and her thighs shake.
“More,” she breathes. “Jack, please.”
I slide one finger inside her and she’s so tight and hot and wet that my dick throbs painfully. Her inner walls clench around me immediately, gripping my finger. I work her slowly, in and out with deliberate strokes, and curl my finger to hit that spot inside her.
“God, yes,” she moans, and her head falls back against the pillow while her hands fist the sheets beside her.
I add another finger, stretching her, working her with steady strokes while my thumb finds her clit to circle and press. She’s getting wetter by the second, her arousal coating my fingers, and her hips are rocking up to ride my hand.
“Jack, please,” she pants, her voice strained.
“Please what?” I ask, curling my fingers to hit that spot again.
“Use your mouth too,” she gasps. “Please, I need your mouth.”
I grin and keep working her, maintaining that steady rhythm. “What was that? Couldn’t quite hear you.”
“Jack!” She’s panting now. “Please. I need… I need your mouth on me. Please.”
“Maybe I just like hearing you beg,” I say, and I curl my fingers again, stroke that spot, and she moans.
“You’re such an asshole,” she gasps.
“Well,” I say. “Since you asked so nicely.”
I lean in and press my mouth to her clit, sucking hard.