Consumed (Rockstar Romance) (Lost in Oblivion, 3.5) (15 page)

“We still don’t know much. The police won’t give us any real details. Just that it was an accident. But no one was with him when it happened. So that’s why it looks suspicious.”

“What happened?” he mouthed.

“He drowned.”

Simon frowned. Snake was a surfer. He’d rather be on his board more than even his kit. There was no way he’d drown.

“His body turned up off of Redondo Beach.”

It wasn’t unheard of for surfers to get hurt. Between the breakers and the reef, there were more than a few pitfalls. One of the reasons he’d never surfed on the regular. He’d rather swim than trust a huge wave on a big board.

He dug around in the beach bag and found his whiteboard.

W
hy foul play
?

“
B
ecause he went
out with a bunch of friends and just disappeared.” Margo pulled him down to sit next to her. “They questioned his friends because no one saw him get into trouble. He just disappeared and turned up down the beach. But not until the next morning.”

He slumped against the couch.

He’d been all alone?

As much as he wanted to shove his fist into Snake’s face for the lawsuit, he didn’t ever wish death on him. And definitely not drowning. Though if you had to go, he supposed that was definitely the better way to go.

Just peacefully sinking down.

He threaded his fingers into his hair.

Christ. He didn’t even know how to swallow that information. Was it wrong to be relieved that the Snake chapter was over?

Or would that be the most interesting bit in the
Behind the Music—Where Are They Now
broadcast? If they even did that show anymore. Maybe they’d just fade into obscurity and be included on a Spotify playlist.

He stood up, disgusted with his brain and the thoughts that were crowding him.

He wanted a shower.

She stood up.

He reached for the marker board.

I
need a few
. Okay?

S
he nodded
. “Sure. I understand.”

Her huge dark eyes were sad and worried. He hated to see it, but he just couldn’t deal right now. He wanted a long hot shower and really wanted a drink.

One out of two would have to do.

S
he wanted to kick herself
. That hadn’t been the way she wanted to tell him about Snake. Hell, she hadn’t been totally sure what he’d known anyway. He wasn’t the type to be on his phone all day like some of the band members, but he wasn’t exactly out of the loop either.

Of course up here the signal was crappy to say the least, but he’d been away from her for a few days as well. And he’d been with the band—but Nick hadn’t mentioned anything. Not exactly surprising. They all wanted Simon to focus on getting better, not the ex-bandmate that might have committed suicide, or just died in a tragic accident.

Suicide had definitely been an aspect that the police had mentioned. What wasn’t public knowledge was that Donovan’s lawyers had decimated Snake’s claims.

He—or in this case, his heirs, if he had any—wasn’t getting a dime from the Oblivion camp. And even if he’d wanted to find another lawyer to make a claim, no one would touch him. Not with Donovan Lewis involved. And she only knew this because of Lila.

Middle of the night texts were becoming their norm. Lila didn’t seem to sleep and when Margo had been away from Simon, sleep had been less than forthcoming for her too.

She walked a fine line of being part of the band and being an outsider. Her relationship with Simon made her just a little more than hired gun to everyone except Nick. She was pretty sure that even if she’d been an actual band member for ten years, she still wouldn’t be considered inner circle by his standards.

The pang under her breastbone made her curl onto her side on the couch. Did she really want to be a full-fledged member of the band?

Would that even happen?

Could it even happen?

Their sound had blended more and more with her violin and cello, and there’d been songs created with it in mind, but if they really wanted to replace her with a guitar they could.

Just the thought of being replaced in their minds was enough to give her a throbbing headache. And when she closed her eyes, she saw Simon’s shattered blue eyes full of sadness and confusion. She wasn’t sure which one was worse.

When she woke again, the room was dark and her stomach growled. She clicked on the lamp beside the couch and squinted at the clock on the wall. It was well after nine and neither one of them had eaten anything resembling real food.

She wandered into the kitchen. Inside the fridge, she found cheese and fruit as well as a breakfast casserole. It was a little too late for a huge eggs and sausage concoction that Kim had obviously cooked for them. She took out a banana and cherries and strawberries. Threw a handful of baker’s chocolate into a glass and popped it into the microwave.

She was no Harper McCoy, but she could make things look pretty. She spread out the cut fruit and drizzled chocolate on top and opened a pre-cut brick of sharp cheddar. Wine wasn’t on the menu but she’d make do with some iced hazelnut chocolate milk.

She made up the tray and climbed the stairs. Simon was sprawled across the bed, face down, a sheet low on his hips. Low enough to know that he’d probably landed there after his shower. And because she needed one almost as bad, she left him sleeping with the food beside the bed.

A quick shower turned more into a leisurely one as the hot water soaked into her sore muscles. She took care of all the annoying things a woman had to do in the shower. Instead of leaving her usual trimmed triangle, she went all the way to bare. Maybe the news she’d given him had been crap, but he didn’t have to stay in that mood the rest of the night.

She pinned her hair up in quick coils with bobby pins and blew it dry. When she took it down the sunkissed tresses fell in waves around her shoulders. She dabbed her perfume on in a few extra random places and sneaked out to her bag.

Simon blissfully slept on. Part of her didn’t want to wake him up. He needed rest, but he also needed food. And if she wasn’t completely off-base, he needed something to take his mind off of Snake and his throat.

Her job was to heal mind, body, and heart.

At least that’s what she was going with.

She turned on a lamp on the far side of the loft. It was obvious Jazz had been into her wardrobe, but still…nothing was good enough for a seduction. She’d have to take Simon shopping and rectify that. A bulge on the side of her bag made her frown. She kept all her lotions in a separate case.

Okay…not lotion.

She turned around the small tube and lowered herself to the chair. Definitely Jazz’s handiwork. Warming, water-soluble lubrication. Being with Simon was an education on the best of days. This afternoon, she’d definitely learned a little something more about her body.

Like she was a helluva lot more adventurous than she ever thought she’d be.

She wanted to experience every part of being with Simon. Earlier on the boat, she’d headed down a path of intimacy that she’d never thought would enter her mind. Maybe to someone like Simon anal sex was commonplace, but for her, it was new and exciting.

The taste she’d gotten on the boat had been incredible. What would it be like to go all the way?

She flipped the tube over in her hand and slipped it into the drawer of the bedside table.

With a sigh, she tucked her towel around her. This was definitely not the seduction scene she’d been planning.

A white and black shirt peeked from Simon’s bag.

Hmm
.

She grabbed a red thong from her case and Simon’s Sex Pistols shirt. It was one of his torn out old T-shirts that covered next to nothing along the side.

Perfect.

She went back into the bathroom and wet her hair a little to rescrunch it up, then slipped into the thong. Thankfully, it probably wouldn’t stay on her for long. She didn’t find them terribly comfortable, but Simon seemed to have a thing for her ass.

Being completely shorn made her far more sensitive, or was it just the thought of what was sitting in the drawer? She didn’t think it would take much convincing on Simon’s part to get a little inventive tonight.

She dropped his shirt over her head and her eyes widened. It barely covered her breasts. They showed almost completely with the way the shirt pulled on her curvier shape. She tugged at it, but it wasn’t long enough to cover her waist.

Stupid boobs.

Stupid curves.

Why couldn’t she be like her sister?

A slap on the door behind her made her jump. She turned around a second before Simon stalked across the bathroom to her. His eyes were a little wild and his nostrils flared. She put her hands up, but got only chest and the buzz of his nipple rings over her palms.

She squeaked out a surprised gasp but it was swallowed by his mouth.

The kiss was deep and possessive. He was naked and his cock dug into her hip as he hiked her up onto the counter. He didn’t seem to know what to touch first.

His fingers skimmed over the ends of her hair then coasted down the outer edges of his shirt. She shuddered as he brushed the side of her breast down to her waist. He mouthed, “fuck,” and went for her neck.

He sucked along the column of her neck to the back of her ear, then down to the slope of her shoulder. Tiny stinging bites had her gasping. She couldn’t even explain why those always sent her reeling. The slight pain of it, the tiniest of branding?

Whatever it was, she lifted her knees to hook around his slim hips. She rolled her hips against his pelvis, wanting that connection again. He scooped her into his arms and she yelped.

“Simon, I’m too heavy.”

He gave her a
fuck off
look and dug his fingers into her ass. “Perfect,” he mouthed as he went through the door to the bedroom. He crossed to their bed and dropped her onto her back. Instead of covering her, he pushed her into the middle of the bed and opened her legs. He nipped and licked his way up her inner thigh to her panties. Instead of removing them, he lightly rubbed his fingertip along her lips.

The friction of the satin over her smooth skin and already swollen folds made her shudder. Again and again, he traced his finger up and down as he kissed her inner thighs, her hips, her lower belly.

She slipped her fingers into his hair. “Simon,” she said breathlessly.

She hadn’t realized just how bad off she’d gotten when she’d started readying herself for him. He made her nuts even before he touched her. He pushed up the ripped shirt and pressed her into the mattress with his torso. The need to undulate against him to ease the ache was insane.

The fact that he had this kind of control made her a little crazy. Was it just old hat for him, or did he just have that much patience?

She arched her back off the bed when he slowly pushed the hem of the shirt over her aching nipples. They were so tight. God, she was way more excited than she should be. When his hot mouth closed over her nipple, she bucked up.

He sucked harder, pressing her tighter into the bed. She moaned out his name and was lost to the hot wash of feeling through her bloodstream and over every inch of her skin. She gripped his hair and dragged him higher to her mouth. Teeth clashed and lips bruised with punishing kisses.

“Everything. God, I’m so…” She couldn’t even explain what she was.

He pushed the shirt over her head. But instead of pulling it off, he pinned her shoulders back so her breasts jutted out even more. He returned to them, sucking harder, using his teeth to pluck them away from her skin until she screamed his name.

He rolled her over and ripped off the shirt. His hard cock brushed over the cleft of her ass. She crawled higher and he yanked her back down. He rolled her thong down slowly.

Slowly.

God, she didn’t want slow.

She wanted hard.

Now.

His lips buzzed across the curve of her cheek, his tongue flashing between her thighs for a second before he returned to the slow exploration of her skin. His stubbled chin abraded the sensitive area between cheek and thigh. He followed the natural line inward. Butterfly soft, his tongue slid over her pussy. He sighed into her heat, his fingers and tongue relentless where he’d been soft and sweet a moment before.

He opened her swollen folds and found her clit with unerring accuracy. He lifted her onto her knees and closed his lips around her pussy. His tongue penetrated then went for her clit in a driving rhythm that had one purpose.

To drive her crazy.

She twisted the sheets, her fingers sore from how tightly she held on. She pushed back on him until his humming groan vibrated right through her. Finally, he pulled away and she groaned when the blunt head of his cock swiped over her center. He bumped along her clit, his nails digging into her back with each stroke.

Yes.

“Yes,” she panted aloud and turned the front half of herself around. She had to see him. Needed to see his face. His eyes were silver fire and his jaw was set. Their gazes met and he slowly sank into her. She reached back to wrap her fingers around his arm. He hooked his arm through both of hers and pulled her up until she was against him. Her back arched and everything felt like it was on display.

Probably because she
was
on display. The stained glass angels and flames at the center burned for her. The stained glass cross was full of moonlight, the cobalt glass reflecting across the white sheets. The only light was the small lamp in the corner and the diffused moonlight that seemed to be stealing over the sheets to her.

To him between her thighs with his endlessly driving rhythm. The only noises were hers. Harsh breaths and frustrated cries as she took every thrust. He had her opened wide, filled to the brim, but there was no friction.

Just her so freaking open she was going to scream.

His fingers slipped over her throat and over her chin. She found his middle finger and sucked on it furiously. Her body was on the edge of hysteria. He let her go finally and they crashed to the mattress, him curled around her. With her hands free, she went for her clit.

God, it ached.

He pulled her hands away and crossed her arms over her chest and locked her tight against him with his forearms. Still, he shuttled inside of her with a focused rhythm. She could feel every inch of him, every line and curve.

He made a light shushing sound in her ear and she turned to meet his mouth.

“No sounds, Simon.”

His nostrils flared with frustration and he nodded stiffly. He tightened the circle of his hip thrusts and she choked out a scream. Just a touch and she’d be done.

A touch he wouldn’t allow.

Her teeth rattled with the intensity of his thrust. “Fuck,” she growled. She loved it as much as she hated it when he was like this. Had he read her mind in sleep? Was he taking out all his anger and frustration on her?

If so, she was a willing victim to it.

He released one arm from around her and rolled them slightly, bringing her knee up tight to her body. The angle left her sobbing. He was everywhere. Around her, inside her, holding her so closely that surely she couldn’t fly apart.

He rolled them to the side again and opened her wide. She looked down at them. His cock plunged inside her again and again. She was so swollen, so wet. His chin was tucked over her shoulder and she knew he was watching too.

They were so beautiful together—her sunkissed skin and his engorged shaft that felt even bigger than usual. She wanted to touch, wanted to feel how slick he was inside of her, but all she could do was watch.

Finally, he let her go. His cock was still inside of her, but she was free. She rolled away from him, groaning as he slid out of her. He stretched out onto his back. His eyes were still dangerous and wild, but he was giving her the control. Her entire body was singing. She could just climb on top of him and end the rioting hunger buzzing through her veins, but she didn’t.

She leaned forward to the bedside table and opened the drawer. Simon frowned. They hadn’t used condoms since the pier. And now that she was addicted to his touch and the perfection of him and only him inside of her, she didn’t want to change that.

“Not a condom.”

His eyebrow rose and he went up on his elbows when she pulled out the little tube.