Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (57 page)

“Fuck, it’s so good like this,” he said, sinking balls deep.

Fuck yeah, it is.

In this position, he couldn’t get any deeper. For a few heartbeats, he stayed still, just enjoying the amazing sensations pulsing through the both of us. As he held steady into that one spot, he made me feel like I was melting in on myself.

“For fuck’s sake, Phil!” I pushed back, needing the friction.

“What’s our word, Baby Girl?” he asked softly.

“Kashmir,” I replied.

“Too fuckin’ right,” he bit out in his angry voice. Pulling back, he slammed into me with his full force. “Think you can handle that?”

“Hells, fuck yes!”

He chuckled at my enthusiasm.

The first few slams were at a hot, sexy pace, but it wasn’t long before he was ramming hard and fast, bombarding his magic spot over and over. I fisted my hands into the bed covers and screamed like a madwoman into the pillows. He was fucking relentless. His hands grasped my hips hard, and he just kept pile-driving me.

“Fuck!” I screamed. I rose up onto my hands, pushing back with each of his pounding strokes, my cunt squeezing and bearing down on him.

Feeling the orgasm building up inside me, he yanked me back into his chest and slid one hand between my legs, his fingers working my clit. His other hand came up over my chest, grabbing my face and turning me toward him so that he could take my mouth with his.

“Squeeze me hard,” he growled against my lips.

My inner muscles clenched around him, drawing a deep groan out of his chest.

“Again,” he commanded, rubbing my clit and punching his hips. “Try to break me.”

I bore down as hard as I possibly could.

“Fuck!” he cried, his head dropping back.

A swelling warm wave swept me up, pushing me higher toward my peak. Phil felt it, and he was being caught up in it with me.

“Fuck, you feel amazin’. There is nothin’ better than feelin’ you come all over my dick,” he groaned.

He rubbed my clit a little harder, and I detonated.

“Phil!” I moaned loudly. My whole body tensed, strung tight like a bowstring.

When my drained body flopped limply, he pushed me forward, flat onto the bed, pressing in deep and covering me completely. His hands clasped mine and pulled them up above my head, and his full weight crushed me for a few breaths.

“I have fantasies of restraining you,” he confessed softly, his mouth brushing my ear.

Securing both my wrists in one of his massive hands, he pushed himself up and braced his upper body with the other arm, relieving some of his weight off my back. The motion ground him deeper into me.

“Of holding you down and making you beg for all of me.”

Hot damn. That’s…that’s fucking turning me on, the thought of that.

Groaning nothing coherent, I turned my face to the side.

Phil started to roll his hips, riding in and out of me in a sensuously slow circular motion.

“I’ve dreamed about making you come over and over, havin’ you so well fucked under me that you can hardly move. I never imagined it’d be so damn
easy.
”

My hips jerked back in response to his voice, his words, and the divine sensations his cock drove into me.

Picking up the pace, he coaxed one last sweet orgasm from me, turning every bone in my body to warm jelly, before letting go himself.

“Fuck! Kenna!”
he bellowed, his cock jerking madly as he flooded me.

After collapsing on top of me, he rolled to the side, pulling me with him. Still lodged deep within me, he cradled me close, his pounding heart reverberating through my back. Turning my face up toward his, he sweetly kissed me.

“Ain’t nothin’ better than makin’ you come apart,” he murmured.

“I had no idea it could be this way,” I confessed. “Never in my wildest dreams.”

“Me neither,” he admitted. “I think I like makin’ you come more than comin’ myself.”

That made me laugh. “Yeah, well, you do a hell of a job of it.”

“I try.”

“Phil!” I squeaked in horror as he strode into the bathroom.

“Yeah, Baby Girl,” he said, not sounding the least bit concerned.

“I’m
peeing
!” I hissed, feeling myself go red.

He stopped and looked at me. “Yeah? And?”

“Uh…a little privacy?”

Cocking an eyebrow, he replied with, “Seriously, you have no problem with me shoving my face in it, but you freak out if I see you pissin’?”

Bastard
,
I thought.
He’s got a point.

Giving him what I hoped was a mutinous glare, I kept my mouth shut and finished my business. Phil began flipping the faucets open on the tub, and then he rummaged around in the cabinets.

“What are you looking for?” I asked, wiping myself while he had his back turned.

“Uh, bath soap…”

“What, like bubble bath?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you usually have some lying around?” I laughed.
I seriously can’t picture that.

“I wouldn’t know. I got a tub, so maybe Danielle thought I’d need some…” He located a bottle on one of the shelves and pulled it out. He read the label out loud, “Soothing Lavender Bath and Body Wash.” Popping the top, he took a whiff and pulled a that’s-not-so-bad face.

I wasn’t a particular fan of lavender but whatever.

He moved to the tub and squirted a large stream of the stuff in it. Within moments, the whole bathroom reeked of lavender, and bubbles were frothing up in alarming quantities.

“Might’ve used too much, there,
dude
,” I snorted.

“Shut your piehole,” he grunted.

Making me get in first, he then got in, sliding to the opposite side of the tub.

“I want to ask you somethin’.”

“Sure,” I said.

“Are you Hindu or some other type of yoga-practicin’ religion?”

“Um, no. Why?”

“’Cause sometimes you call on
gods
, like in the plural sense. But sometimes, only one. I’m just curious.”

“Oh. Yeah, my parents raised us with the belief that souls watch over those of us existing on this plane. Mom called them gods—not so much as a deity type of deal, but as souls who have lived so many lifetimes that they’ve become enlightened beings. They’re not what created us, but they sort of evolved into
…more
than what we are now—more knowledgeable, wise, and compassionate.”

“So you believe in a god?” he asked.

“Like, one Supreme Being?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes, but I don’t think It wastes Its time with the petty bullshit that happens here on this plane. That’s what the gods are for.”

“So, you think these gods are reincarnated souls who became so enlightened that they’ve become godlike and help to guide humanity?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” I replied, giving him a warm smile.

“Huh,” he grunted, his expression one of contemplation.

“Why? What do you believe?”

“I’m really not too sure, to be honest. Neither of my parents were ever particularly religious. I think if my dad ever was, he certainly wasn’t after my mother died.”

“Do you believe in one Supreme Being?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes. I’ve seen and experienced things that can only be explained by what I guess I would consider divine means.”

“Like what?”

He looked me square in the eyes. “The night we found each other. It was surreal for me. When I saw you, it was like…I can’t even describe it really. I
knew
you. I knew who you were to me,
what
you are to me. I
recognized
you. And the next time, before we left the States, when I was on stage…” His gaze became unfocused, and I sensed he was seeing it all over again. “I heard you in my head.”

“Really? What did I say?”

“‘I honor the place in you where Spirit lives—”

Filled with such love and faith as he said this, in more of a reflex, I pressed my palms together before my heart above the stinky lavender bubbles, “I honor the place in you which is of Love, of Truth, of Light, of Peace. When you are in that place within you, and I am in that place within me—”

“Then, we are One,” he finished. His features were blank, unreadable, as though he weren’t sure of himself and didn’t want me to know. “Did you really say that to me?”

“I did. It’s what’s meant by
Namaste.
”

His chest rose and fell a bit faster. “And it doesn’t freak you out a little?”

“No. I had a similar connection with my mother. I
wanted
you to hear me. I could only hope that you had.”

“You let me go. You told me to go—or…I felt it. I don’t know.”

“I also told you I’d wait for you.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Why did you let me go though? I was ready…I was ready for
you
, Kenna. Weren’t you ready for me?”

“You were about to leave on your first world tour,” I said. “I didn’t want to hold you back from that. I think if we had started a relationship before you left, it might have ruined things. I didn’t know when you were coming back…if you’d ever come back really. I wanted you to experience everything you could without feeling as though you’d have to explain yourself to me.”
Or break my heart.

“We could’ve stayed in touch. We could’ve at least spoken with each other.” He sounded like he was getting pissed. “I’ve thought about you day in and day out for the last six years.”

“I’ve thought about you, too,” I told him, my voice soothing. “All the time. It’s why I worked so damn hard—to pass the time until I would see you again.”

He was so angry. He turned his gaze out the window to watch the black clouds and torrents of rain.

“Phil?”

“Yeah?”

Just yeah. No Baby Girl.

“What is it exactly that’s making you so angry right now?”

“You let me go! It was so
easy
for you! If I could’ve heard your voice, gotten to speak to you, gotten to
know
you, then maybe I wouldn’t have…”

He looked back into my eyes, and it was almost as though he hated me. I could feel it burning in my chest. Maybe it was just an echo of his own anger, but I started to feel like I didn’t need to sit here and take this shit.

Yeah, I’d let him go to live the life of a rock star, unencumbered, but the motherfucker had still
left
.

How dare he sit there and lay all the blame at my feet!

“I wanted you to be
free
, Phil. I wanted you to go and have the time of your life with your best friends. I wanted you to be able to do what you wanted to do, when you wanted to do it, without having any obligations to a backwater nobody.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “First of all, you’re not some backwater nobody. You’re my whole goddamn world, and if you ever refer to yourself like that again, I’m gonna fuckin’ lose my shit. And second, I was
never
free. It got to the point that I would do anythin’ and everythin’ to escape the memory of you, but I’d still wake up the next day with you on both my fuckin’ brains.”

“Well, what do you want from me then?” I snapped. “You want me to apologize for my lack of presence in your life screwing with your head?”

“I don’t know!” he shouted.

“Right,” I huffed. “Well, let me know when you do.” I stood.

“Where are you going?” he snapped, sliding forward and grabbing my wrist.

“I don’t need to sit here and take this crap! It’s not like I was having the greatest time of my life while you were
gone
seeing the
whole world
, living your dream! Let go of me!”

Instead, he snaked his other arm around my waist and pulled me back down into the water, into his arms, until I was sitting sideways on his lap.

“I’ll never let you go, Kenna,” he said.

Snagging a fistful of my hair, he slammed his mouth on mine. It was hot, passionate, and fueled with a blazing sense of pain.

Pulling back, breathing harshly, he told me, “I don’t want to fight with you, Baby Girl. I didn’t mean to…”

Relaxing in his arms, I rested my head against his shoulder.

I think I just met a demon wearing my face. And I don’t have the first clue as to how to exorcise it. I don’t even know how he can think this way…unless it makes it easier for him to live with himself by blaming me for whatever fucked-up-ness he’s so ashamed of.