Chapter 2
He hadn’t meant to spend the night.
Was it weird that he’d spent the night?
It had been so long since Derek was last in this situation that he was no longer sure.
When he wasn’t on the road with one of his bands, his nights were more about finding lost stuffed animals and chasing away monsters under the bed than spending hours between the thighs of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
A woman who was an intriguing mix of confidence and uncertainty all wrapped up with a sassy bow.
A woman who was still sound asleep beside him, sheets tangled around her legs, her bare back on display for him, soft snores escaping her parted lips.
He mapped the line of her body beneath the sheet, the dip of her waist, the dusky pink tips of her breasts, the hollow of her throat.
Christ, he could still taste her. His cock thickened at the memory of her hands in his hair, holding his mouth against her sweet pussy as she rode his tongue, her gasp when he thrust inside her the first time, the sting of her nails on his back as he drove them both to orgasm.
If he weren’t about to fly to the other side of the country, he would have liked to take her to dinner, to find out why her apartment was only half furnished, to learn the story behind the bookcase filled with high heels in the living room.
If he were the kind of person who didn't have people depending on him, waiting for him to get this last tour off the ground, he’d like to stick around in this small Rhode Island town and learn all of Jo’s secrets.
Not only what made her writhe and scream his name as she came apart on his cock, but what made her laugh, what made her smile.
With a glance at the clock on her nightstand and a quick calculation in his head, he reached for her, slotting her back against his chest. The plane wasn’t leaving for four hours. They could get another round in before they had to say goodbye and he’d still be at the airport with time to spare.
He nuzzled into the space between her chin and her shoulder, dragging his teeth down the line of her throat. She reached behind herself sleepily and combed her fingers into his hair, tugging.
“Good morning,” he murmured at her ear.
“I’m sleeping.” The restless rock of her hips against his erection begged to differ.
“Last night was fun.” He snaked his arm across her torso, tugged the sheet loose and cupped her breast.
“Feels like this morning’s about to be fun too.” She guided his hand between her legs.
He stroked her lightly and was rewarded with her soft, contented sigh and another tug on his hair.
He liked her like this, her lipstick long since kissed off, dark smudges from her eye makeup under her eyes, the ghost of a bite mark—his bite mark—where her shoulder met her neck.
Soft and pliant in his arms, warm and wanting, all the bravado stripped away like the push-up bra he’d stripped off her the night before.
He could lie there all day with his fingers between her legs, whisper light touches designed to drive her mad with need and yet provide no relief, watch as color rose in her cheeks and her nipples pebbled.
Every inch of her primed and ready for him, begging for his touch.
A little whine caught in her throat. “Stop playing around and make me come.”
He tsked and nipped at her earlobe. “Be patient.” Sliding two fingers inside her, he pumped slowly as he pressed the heel of his hand to her clit. She circled her hips, chasing the friction he withheld. “I’ll get you there. Eventually.”
With a frustrated groan, she turned in his arms, pushing him back on the bed and straddling his hips. She gripped his cock, stroking him roughly. “I don’t like to wait.”
He grunted, pulling her hand away and flipping them so she was the one flat on her back. Pinning her hands to the bed beside her head, he hovered over her. The flared tip of his cock nudged at her swollen clit. “You come when I say you come, little menace.”
She pushed out her lower lip in an adorable pout, and he caught it between his teeth.
It was so easy with her. Was it always so easy with someone new?
It’d been so long that he couldn’t remember.
But with Jo, it was like he could forget about all the things waiting for him outside her apartment, the pressures bombarding him from all sides.
With her, the constant noise in his head dimmed.
How did she turn down the volume while also making all the colors more vibrant?
Weren’t one-night stands supposed to be awkward? There was nothing awkward about the way she reached for him or how well their bodies fit together.
“Maybe I won’t let you come. Maybe I’ll tease you until it’s time for me to leave. Maybe you don’t get my cock today.”
She lifted her hips, but he held himself at bay.
Her pupils were blown wide, her breath coming in fast pants that shook her breasts with each exhale.
If this was the end of their limited time together, he wanted to savor every moment, memorize each reaction, each goosebump dotted across her skin.
At last, she dropped her hips back to the bed, a resigned huff passing her kiss-swollen lips.
“Good girl,” he crooned as he lowered himself over her again. She beamed under his praise, and he slid his thick shaft through her folds, the flared ridge teasing at her clit.
He moved over her slowly, his mouth roving across her chest, nipping at the tips of her breasts, the soft undersides, peppering her skin with the marks of his affection. “I’ll take such good care of you,” he whispered between her breasts, “if you’re ready to follow directions.”
“Yes,” she panted, “please.”
He swirled his tongue around her furled nipple before releasing one of her hands. “Get a condom.”
She reached blindly towards her nightstand, fumbling for the box they’d left there the night before as he continued to tease her, working her ever so slowly towards her climax. If this was going to be the last one, he wanted her to feel it for days. To feel him.
At last, triumphant, she held up the little foil packet. “Put it on me,” he commanded, releasing her other hand.
She held his gaze as she slid the latex over his length. “Bossy.”
He kissed the smirk from her lips, wanting to taste it. “You like it.” The condom in place, he thrust into her hand, then licked across her clavicle, up her throat, until he could speak directly into her ear. “Are you ready for me, little menace? Ready for my cock to stretch your perfect pussy?”
“Yes, Derek,” she whined.
She notched his tip at her entrance, but paused, letting him decide when he would thrust inside.
He grinned. How quickly she’d learned what he liked, the ways he enjoyed being in control.
How it drove him out of his goddamn mind when she played the brat—and how it made him even wilder for her when she surrendered to him.
Christ, the things he’d do to her if he had the time...
She offered her wrists to him again, inviting him to press her into the bed.
No sooner had he pinned her down, then he snapped his hips forward, filling her in one smooth stroke.
She cried out, arching off the bed, and he gritted his teeth against the sudden heat, the tight clench of her around him.
“Fuck, you take me so well.”
He fucked her slowly, slowly, in strokes designed to tease but not satisfy, until she was squirming so beautifully he had to sit back on his heels to watch his cock piston in and out of her.
Draping her thighs over his bent knees, he gripped her hips and moved her over him in shallow thrusts.
It had been years since he’d known the heat of a woman’s body around his, since he’d felt the overwhelming urge to claim someone as his own.
Longer still since he’d been with someone who was willing to play these games with him, to surrender control, to let him command their pleasure as fully as his own.
“Derek,” she moaned, trying to impale herself on him further.
He dragged his eyes over her flushed skin until he met her gaze, the bright blue of her irises shimmering and hazy. “Something you need?”
She squirmed, huffed in frustration, but refused to say the words.
He chuckled at the defiant way she clamped her mouth closed despite the sparkle in her eyes.
He wished he had time to see how long he could keep her like this, how long she would let him be in control before she demanded what she wanted.
If he were a betting man, he’d bet everything he owned she would be absolutely glorious in that moment.
But he was quickly running out of time if he wanted to shower and collect his luggage before he had to meet the band and head to the airport.
He didn’t have time to ask about the tasteful black and white photograph of her in lingerie that hung above her bed, or the empty room across the hall, or how she’d ended up working in a dive bar in Rhode Island.
He had just enough time to make her come.
He buried himself to the hilt and roughly pulled out again.
Over and over as she thrashed in his grip, pushing herself harder and faster against him.
“Take what you need, baby,” he ground out as his own impending orgasm shot sparks of electricity down his spine, demanding that he fuck her harder, faster.
“Take it, little menace. Let me feel this perfect pussy strangle my cock.”
He tilted her hips, sliding in deeper, the new angle punching the breath from his lungs as her inner muscles grasped at his length.
“So close,” she whispered, her thighs shaking.
She reached between her legs, her fingers flying over her clit until she arched off the bed.
He was mesmerized by the sight, unable to look away as she shattered around him, soaking them both in her pleasure.
She cried out as he continued to fuck her, the pull of her climax tipping him over into his own, and he drove himself inside her one last time, filling the condom.
When at last his cock stopped pulsing and his skin stopped tingling, he withdrew, disposing of the condom and flopping down on the bed beside her.
Jo giggled, a slow-building laugh of relief and joy and exhaustion, and reached over to pat him on the chest, her nails scratching through the smattering of chest hair there.
He caught her hand and kissed her palm before pressing her hand against his pounding heart, his own chuckle rumbling through him.
Easy.
Across the room, somewhere in the heap of clothing she’d torn off him the night before, his cell phone rang.
He groaned and buried his face in the valley between her breasts.
She laughed again, a soft, breathy sound, and raked her fingers through his hair.
He wanted more of this—more uncomplicated and fun, more of not worrying about anything beyond the here and now. More of the guy he used to be.
“When do you need to leave?” she asked.
He glanced at the clock on her nightstand and groaned again, pressing his lips against her skin. “Twenty minutes.”
She tugged on his hair until he lifted his eyes to meet hers. “Next time you’re in town—” She broke off and his grin faltered when his phone started ringing again. “You need to get that?”
He nodded and rolled off the bed, digging his phone out of his pants pocket. Two calls in a row never meant anything good, but his stomach dropped when he saw the name on the screen. “Chelsea? Slow down, sugar. What’s wrong?”