Chapter 17
NOELLE
Someone screamed, “We’re going in!”
Before I had time to catch my breath, almost everyone in the group photo ditched their phones and watches and jumped into the pool.
Conor circled his hands around my waist beneath the water. “You are such an instigator.”
I giggled and ducked my head beneath the water. By the time I popped up, people were clambering from the pool, their clothes soggy, some missing a sandal, some still holding their drinks aloft.
Jermaine hoisted himself onto the deck. “Much better group picture. Let’s bring that energy to the stage tonight for our sold-out show.”
I paddled toward the steps in the shallow end of the pool. Conor swam up behind me and lifted me to the edge.
“That was totally your fault, Noelle for bending my fingers back. Hurt like hell, too. I may never play guitar again.”
“If you hadn’t let go so suddenly, I wouldn’t have lost my balance.” I squeezed out my hair and pressed my fingers against my eyes to make sure my contacts were still in place.
“I thought you wanted me to let go.” He shook his hair out like a dog after a bath, sending droplets of water into the air.
Plucking his wet T-shirt from his body, he said, “I have to get my clothes and change, although a few minutes in this Phoenix sun would have them bone dry.”
“Yeah, I’m going back to my room to shower and change. Now I have to fix my hair to meet Ashley’s standards.” I wound a few strands, curling into mayhem, around my fingers, but nothing but a hair dryer, brush, and conditioner would work on this mess.
“All I have in my room are my clothes for the stage. Shanice picked something out for me and brought it up. I’m not wearing my stage clothes while I eat dinner and try to relax.”
“Where are the rest of your clothes?”
“I left my main bag on the tour bus.”
“It’s locked.”
“I know.” He tapped my chest with his finger. “That’s why you’re going with me to let me in. I know you are one of the keepers of the keys.”
“Keepers of the keys—sounds like an ancient order of middle managers sworn to protect sacred doors...or buses.”
He gave me a playful nudge. “Do you have them?”
“Unless they fell out in the pool...” I patted the front pocket of my shorts “...right here.”
“Let’s go.” Conor swept his phone from the table and strode toward the gate around the pool area.
I followed. “Should we see if anyone else...”
He threw one word over his shoulder. “No.”
Reaching the gate first, he grabbed it from the person who was exiting in front of him and held it open for me. “After you, key keeper.”
“That’s ancient key keeper to you.”
We skirted the outside of the hotel to reach the loading dock area in the back. With the sun setting on the day, deliveries to the hotel had stopped, and the tour bus hunched in the empty parking lot, solo and empty.
Conor grabbed my hand and started running toward the bus. “This feels naughty, doesn’t it?”
“We’re grabbing your bag from a tour bus, to which...” I jingled a keychain in the air “...I have a legitimate key. This key doesn’t even start the engine, so no chance of taking it for a joyride, either.”
We reached the door, and Conor tapped on it. “Go on, then.”
I located the hidden latch on the side of the door and inserted the silver key. The small compartment fell open, revealing a red button. I pressed the button and the doors hissed.
“Doors released.”
Conor pushed at the seam in the middle of the door, and it folded in, creating a space for us to enter. We climbed the steps, and Conor shoved the door closed behind us.
“How do we lock the doors?”
“I don’t think we need to lock...”
But he’d moved into the driver’s seat and found the button to seal the doors closed once again. He beamed at me over his shoulder. “You know, just in case Quinton hops in and decides to take off like Ham did. We’ll have some warning this time.
When the doors settled back in place, butterflies took flight in my stomach. The first time Conor and I had sex was in a tour bus. Did he remember?
I cleared my throat. “You can go upstairs to get your bag and whatever else you need. I’ll stand guard down here.”
Taking my shoulders and twirling me toward the stairs, he said, “I need your help. Besides, you’re shivering, and it’s warmer in the top deck.”
My wet hair and damp clothes sticking to my body had nothing to do with my shivers. I swallowed and crept up the steps, my flip flops keeping time with my pounding heart. His gaze burned into my back...make that backside, as he patted my bum.
“Why are you dragging your feet?”
I reached the top deck and marched to his—our bunk. “What do you need?”
He wrapped his arms around me from behind and pulled me against his body. “I need you, Noelle.”
Closing my eyes, I gave in for a second, resting my head against his chest. Then I wriggled forward, putting space between my ass and his hard cock straining against his shorts.
“This isn’t...I mean, we need some time. We just found out we didn’t ghost each other. We don’t even know what happened yet. You said you needed to learn the truth before we could move on together.”
“Before we could move on together—” he slipped his hands beneath my wet T-shirt clinging to my body “—not before I could fuck you.”
A little whimper escaped my lips as I sagged against him. I didn’t know what was wetter at that point—my shorts or my pussy.
Conor was determined to find out. His hand, splayed on my belly, moved to the waistband of my shorts, and his fingers crept down between my legs. He slid two fingers along either side of my clit, skimming them along my lips.
I moaned, pushing against his hand.
He rolled my clit between his fingers and whispered, “You’re so wet and don’t tell me it’s from the pool.”
“I-it’s not.”
He flicked his tongue against my earlobe. “I’m gonna make you come hard. I’m gonna obliterate those years we were apart. I’m gonna make you forget your clipboard, your job, the fake dating. Maybe even your name.”
“My what?”
He chuckled against my neck, but there was nothing funny about the way he slid two fingers inside me as he stroked my clit with his thumb. I grabbed the guardrail on the top bunk with both hands, thrusting my hips back to get more of Conor.
One hand still buried in my pussy, he used the other to yank down my shorts, peeling my wet panties from my hips. They dropped in a soggy heap around my ankles. I stepped out of them and kicked them to the side.
“Mmm.” He ran his warm hand across my ass, cupping one cheek and squeezing it. “You always did have the nicest arse—some things never change.”
He stopped caressing me, and I cried out in frustration.
He wound his hand through my hair and tugged my head back. “You waited all this time. You can hang on for another minute.”
A whole minute? My legs trembled as he placed his hands around my waist and turned me to face him. His gaze scorched my bare flesh from the waist down and left me tingling at the same time.
Pinching the hem of my wet shirt with his fingers, he pulled it up, and I lifted my arms to ease the process. He unhooked my bra and threw it over his shoulder.
As I stood totally naked before him, I reached for his damp T-shirt. “Your turn.”
“I’m not done with you yet.” He tapped the guardrail on the bed. “Grab onto that again. You’re gonna need it where I’m taking you.”
I raised my arms and gripped the metal bar above me.
He dropped to his knees and placed his hands on the insides of my thighs. “Spread your legs for me.”
I widened my stance, and Conor parted my inner lips with his thumbs. I jumped, swinging a little in the air. What next a trapeze act?
Actually, what came next was much better as he put his mouth against me and sucked my clit between his soft lips. I jerked my hips forward, afraid I’d smother him, but his active mouth told me he was very much conscious.
As the tension in my body grew to an aching need, I lifted my feet and rested my legs on his shoulders. He steadied me with his hands on my bum, digging his fingers into my flesh, rocking me back and forth.
Each time I got close to coming, he’d swing me back a little, his hair tickling the insides of my thighs.
The next time he tried to pull away, I caught his head between my knees. “What happens if I come so hard I let go? I’d bang my head on the bunkbed.”
“I won’t let you fall, Nollaig. I’ll never let you fall again.”
His words and the final swipe of his tongue across my pussy sent me over the edge.
The buildup, the years of buildup, released a wave of pleasure cascading through my body.
But I tensed again, clenching my legs around Conor, followed by more bone-melting ecstasy.
I came over and over, the cessation of each peak building to another climax.
I must’ve let go of the guardrail at some point, but Conor held my writhing body close to him, his damp clothes brushing against my sensitive skin.
He stood up, and my legs dropped from his shoulders to his waist. I curled my arms around his neck as he kissed me, my juices staining his lips, my taste on his mouth.
When he gave me a second to breathe, I grabbed the collar of his shirt. “I need to see you naked—and then I need you inside me...after I wet your cock with my tongue.”
As he set me on my feet, he started unbuttoning his shirt. “If that sweet mouth goes anywhere near my cock, I’m gonna explode all over your...face.”
“Then we’ll just have to start all over again.”
“Oh no—” he shrugged out of his shirt “—when I shoot my wad, it’s gonna be deep inside you. It’ll be soaking your panties days after, making you remember every stroke, every drop.”
“That’s a lot of cum.” I tugged at the button on the waistband of his shorts. “Have you been storing it up?”
“Eleven fucking years’ worth.”
“Liar.” I ran my fingers through the hair on his chest, tugging it lightly. “I read the gossip sites. You’ve been spreading that cum far and wide.”
He kissed me hard on the mouth. “Stop talking about shite that doesn’t matter.”
He unzipped his shorts and as I grabbed them to peel them back, he circled my wrists with his fingers.