Never Enough (36 page)
“I know, man. I’ve got several alternatives if you’d like to stay elsewhere. A penthouse or two. All with great views. A few more houses. Hotels. What do you want? Merrill is on his way. He was in Maryland so he’s already en route.” Merrill was one of the guards Adrian had used on the last tour.
“Good. She doesn’t want to move unless we have to. Gavin says this place is secure. I don’t want to scare her or Miles.”
“The area you’re in is pretty good. We can have a bodyguard on routine front-gate duty to chase off squatters. Jeremy also told me to tell you the label would send a helicopter tomorrow to get you to Reg’s place. You’re pretty big news, I guess.” Cope’s snort made Adrian laugh and relax a bit. “Gavin says you’ve got a secure situation and plenty of room. Miles is with you, as is Gillian. You can’t just move around like you normally do. Why don’t you give it another day to see? If you wake up to a street full of dipshits with cameras tomorrow, fuck it. Get out and we’ll handle it all. I’ll come out myself, if need be.”
Adrian hung up and spoke with Gavin, who reassured him all was well.
He checked on Miles, noting the door had been left open so clearly Gillian had checked too. He smiled, on his way to her.
When he found her, she was in bed, blankets tucked around her, reading a book on her digital book reader, those sexy glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.
“Everything all right?” she asked when he closed the door behind him.
“For now, yes. We’ll open the door again when we decide to go to sleep. Gavin has moved to the living room at the end of the hall here and there’s another guard coming that I’ve hired before. He’ll be here in several hours.”
She nodded. “All right.” She patted the bed. “Come here. Let me give you a massage. You’re stressed enough as it is. You have a big day tomorrow. Don’t let one idiot with a camera ruin that.”
For a little woman, she had great, powerful hands. Probably the years of piano playing. But she straddled his ass and began to work her fingers and the heels of her hands into the knotted muscles of his back. And he let it all go as she worked through all the stress and bunched-up muscles, leaving him relaxed, warm and mad to have her.
“Do you know what I noticed when I first saw this room?”
“I’m sure there’s something sex related in this story,” she murmured, kissing his shoulder before rolling off and landing next to him on the mattress.
“You know me so well.” Slow but total need coursed through him as he reached out to draw his fingertips down the pale, smooth line of her neck, between her breasts and then down over her belly.
He doubted he’d said anything more true than that in a very long time.
“I need you in me. Lose yourself in my skin. I want your hands, your teeth and lips. Definitely your cock.”
“There you go, English, with your filthy mouth, undoing me.”
“You’re not naked. You still have pants and underpants on. This isn’t a reasonable stance to take.”
She said it prim and proper, and his cock went from seven to twelve on the hardness scale as he managed to get his muscles working enough to get his clothes off.
“Your pupils just got so big. And you bared your teeth at me.” She blew out a breath and then swallowed hard. The breath stuttered from him as he plunged into this moment with her. Let it take over.
And his mouth feasted at her throat as he slowly slid the buttons from their holes, spreading the front of her pajama top open to revel those magnificent tits. Leaning back, he took her in fully as he got to his knees.
She looked up at him through fuck-drunk eyes, her lips parted, tongue darting out.
“I can’t figure out how to look at your face with those lips and big brown eyes and those breasts at the same time.”
The corner of her mouth slid up enough to bring out her dimple and he fell in love with her all over again.
It was good here. This place the two of them had stumbled into, each of them fighting it here and there but always coming back for more until they gave up and let themselves have a relationship.
She was his family. The mother of his son. And it meant so much that he’d have loved her just for that. But there was more because she was his. That’s all he could say to himself that felt most true. He’d looked at her and his entire being had gone taut and he’d thought,
Mine
.
Mine
.
So she was his mate. Something he’d craved after watching his friends and family find their love and make their own families.
“Out of those pants. I want you on me.”
Her gaze roved over his body, pausing to look at his tattoos, at the piercings and the muscle, the softness of that hair and that gorgeous face of his.
“You are every single filthy bad-boy fantasy rolled up into one, and I’m quite aflutter with it.”
He grinned up at her when she straddled his body.
“I am?”
“Oh yes. You are the motorcycle-riding, tattooed, pierced, bad-boy rock star. You’re as alpha as they come and you manage to do it all smooth-like so half the time I’m so befuddled by how absurdly attractive you are, and your voice does that thing and it makes me wet. Because you are that bad boy but you’re not when it comes to me.”
She kissed him, slow and deep, her hands braced on his shoulders. His hands played over her thighs and back, over her ass and up into her hair.
And then lower, the edge of that scruffy beard when she shifted to the hollow below his ear and then up the row of hoops.
Down his throat and across his chest so she could lick and tug on his nipple with the ring. She breathed him in, tracing the lines of his arms and the point of his elbows as she continued to kiss her way downward, over the lines of the tattoo on his belly. His flat, hard belly.
Positively light-headed, that was what he left her. By the time she slid her tongue across the slit of his cock, there was only the way he made her feel.
She let her hair fall around her face, knowing how much he loved her hair and when he got that partial view of what her mouth was doing on his cock. Swirling licks and sucks, she drew him in deeper and deeper.
She wanted to bring him pleasure to distract him from his stress. Wanted to minister to him the way he had her so often.
And so she poured everything she felt about him into every touch. Every kiss and lick.
Over and over, she took him as deeply as she could, keeping him wet, massaging a slow, circular slide over his asshole as she continued to suck his cock. Her inner muscles skittered when he groaned.
That need to please was a powerful thing. In those moments with him like this, the dark things they both craved and found in the other, the raw sexuality of their energy—there was no fear or hesitation. She wanted to bring him pleasure. Wanted him to find it in her.
His dominant side rose slowly, building. But he’d already been halfway there, already in protective mode from the incident with the media earlier. He was sure. Aggressive. His fingers in her hair tightened as he guided her the way he wanted.
And she loved it.
He growled and thrust upward when her lubed fingers had found his prostate and began a slow stroke each time she pulled her mouth up.
She lost herself in the scent of him, the feel of his body, the way he tasted, and concentrated on pushing everything but pleasure from his brain.
This had to be the best blow job he’d ever had. And Gillian was a fucking genius with her mouth, so that was a big deal. She had him on the edge of orgasm and he was just about to go over but she felt so good and looked so fucking hot bending over his cock he didn’t want it to end.
And, as he sailed into climax three minutes later, he was pretty sure he might have blacked out, he came so hard.
“When I can move my anything again, I’m all over that pussy. Just sayin’,” he managed to slur.
She laughed and snuggled into his body. “You never told me what it was you saw when you looked into this room.”
“The posts on the bed. I’ll need to use them when we work up to round two.”
17
If he never rode in a helicopter again, he’d have the memory of Miles’s face when they walked from the back of the house to where the ride the label had sent to pick them up waited.
“This is major,” Miles breathed out, eyes as wide as saucers.
“It is pretty awesome, I agree.” Gillian grinned at their son and Adrian put an arm around each one of them and walked them over. This made the hassle of fame worth it. Being able to share such a thrill with Gillian and Miles.
“Come on then. Let’s see Miami from the air.” He held his guitar and the case, the same as he had over and over. But the nervousness over the meeting with Reg was something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.
As if she sensed he needed it, Gillian reached out to squeeze his hand.
“I’ve never been in a helicopter before. Mum either. This is beyond.” Miles was all eyes as he strapped in. Gavin grinned at him and strapped in next to him.
“I’ve done it before several times but it’s always cool.”
Miles took in Gavin’s considerable size and nodded, as if reassuring himself. Adrian hid his smile.
Gillian grasped his hand so tight he made her let go so he could put an arm around her shoulders. He’d never seen her this spooked by anything, but the way she melted into his side and averted her gaze from what was going on outside the window as they rose and left the ground made him glad he was there to comfort her. Glad she turned to him for it.
“We should arrive shortly,” the pilot said via the headsets they all wore. Jeremy had stopped by for breakfast and had met Miles and Gillian. Gillian had charmed him easily and Miles asked rapid-fire questions about the industry that kept Jeremy on his toes, but if the zeal on his face was any indicator, he’d enjoyed the discussion.
He also hated helicopters, so he and Merrill had headed to Reg’s about twenty minutes before the copter had arrived. Gillian’s mouth had flattened into a hard line when Merrill had been there after they’d woken up. One bodyguard and she’d been all right, but two and she’d understood the gravity, which he knew hit that motherworry bull’s-eye.
But she’d straightened her spine, held her hand out to shake Merrill’s, and by the time breakfast had ended, Merrill looked at her with the same fucking cow eyes Gavin already did.
She was as larger than life as Erin was, but in her own way. It only made him more fascinated to watch how she interacted with people. Her quiet way seemed to calm Miles, and though he hated to admit it, he finally understood what she’d meant when she tried to talk to Adrian about structure and how Miles thrived with it.
He turned to kiss the top of her head. Love was alchemy too, he realized. It had changed him right down to his toes.
So when he walked into that room with nothing more than his guitar and a notepad to meet Reg Thorne, he knew for sure that whether or not Thorne agreed to produce, he’d make that CD anyway. And it would be the best thing he’d ever done.
When he’d gone through two songs, Thorne rapped the table with his knuckles. “You don’t need anything more, mate.” Thorne had an accent that made Adrian’s fingers itch to touch Gillian.
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