Play Your Heart Out: A Rock Star Romance (Sinful Serenade Book 4) (16 page)

I keep my voice even. "It's me."

"I miss you. I know that isn't any consolation, but I do."

Deep breath. I have to stay strong, to tell her she hurt me. "Why did you call?"

"To explain about Nathan." Her voice drops. "And to apologize. I know you hate me right now. I deserve it. I'm so sorry, Jessie. It was a bitch move sleeping with Nathan, but I really thought it was over. He told me you'd ended it."

Oh. That sounds like Nathan. But that's not enough to absolve her. "You didn't just sleep with him. You two are dating. You've been together for six months."

"I know. I'm sorry. There's no excuse. But you know how he is. He made me feel smart and special. And he had that way of explaining things that convinced me his ideas were right."

"Had that way?"

"We broke up a few days ago. When those pictures of you and... is that really you with Pete Steele?"

"Yes. But I'm not willing to discuss that with you."

"Oh. Sure."

I can hear her heart breaking through the speaker. I take a deep breath. She wants me to forgive her. And I want to forgive her. But I can't do it yet... it still hurts.

I rest my head on Pete's chest. He's warm and he smells good.

He runs his hand through my hair. "Want me to take over? I have some choice words for her."

I can't help but laugh. I shake my head and turn my attention back to the call. "I don't want to hate you forever, Maddie. But I'm not ready to forgive you."

Her voice is meek. "Please, Jessie. I'm so sorry. He got all jealous when those pictures came out and started going off about how he wanted to hurt you, how he only slept with me to hurt you. It made everything clear. I never should have been with him. I never should have let you go to California. I think about calling you every night. I miss you so much. I even read the
Hunger Games
books to feel closer to you."

"You make it sound like it was a chore."

"No. I liked them. And you're right, Peeta is way better than Gale." She takes a deep breath. "I... I understand that I hurt you. Let me do something to make it up to you. Please."

"Eventually. I need more time first."

"How much time?"

I hold strong. "I don't know. A few more weeks at least."

"Uh... Well, you did trade up. Pete Steele is a lot hotter than Nathan."

Pete chuckles. I guess he can hear the phone. Madison is loud. I throw him a
shhh
look.

"My sexy librarian." He smiles. "Should I make my mouth useful?"

As soon as I'm done with this.

"Is that him?" Madison squeals.

"Yes, but I'm not going to discuss him with you."

"No. I'm not looking for gossip. I just... I hope you're happy. That you finally have someone who deserves you."

"Thank you." This is about as much of this conversation as I can take. But I can't let her go without discussing Dad. "Do you know how Dad is doing? He's been dodging my calls."

"I'm not sure. You know Dad. He could be drowning and he'd insist he's going out for a nice dip."

Sounds about right.

"I'll find out," she says. "I'm going to make this up to you. I'll call about Dad next week. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I love you."

"I love you too." I hang up the phone and drop it in my lap. It's the first time I've said I love you to anyone in ages. But it feels natural.

The tension in my shoulders relaxes. I'm angry at my sister, but we'll get past it. She's still my best friend.

Pete pulls me into his lap. His arms slide around my chest. His mouth hovers over my ear.

"I'm proud of you," he whispers.

"Thanks."

"She's right. About Peeta being better than Gale."

"Glad you agree."

"And about me being hotter than your ex."

"How do you know?"

"Saw pictures on your Facebook." His cheek brushes against my neck. "You have any energy left?"

"I could use another coffee."

"Tom's throwing a party tomorrow. I'd skip it, but it sounds important. He wants us to have dinner with Ophelia and Ellie first."

"Ellie?"

"Mom's girlfriend."

"Oh. Your mom is gay?"

"Yeah. You didn't know?"

"Never looked you up."

He plays with the bottom of my tank top. "You shoulda. I've been all over your Facebook."

"Really?"

"You look hot in those pictures on the beach."

"When did you look at those?"

"After we met. Had to see what I was dealing with. You should change your privacy settings. Want me to do it?"

"Well, if any pervert can see pictures of me in a bikini, yeah."

He chuckles. "I will. But I have something else to do first."

"What's that?"

"You ever watch yourself come?"

"No."

He pulls me off the couch. "Then I have to pop your cherry."

***

P
ete leads me to the downstairs bathroom. He's aggressive and hungry as he pins me to the wall and presses his lips to mine.

We're moving quickly from conversation to kissing, but it feels right. There are so many things I can't articulate. That he can't say. But the feelings are there in our kiss. They pour between us.

He plants his body behind mine, his chest against my back, his crotch against my ass. Mmm. He's hard.

"Palms against the wall." His voice is deep, commanding. He pulls his t-shirt over his head. Pushes his boxers to his feet. "Look at the mirror, Jess."

My gaze goes right to the reflection of his eyes. There's so much desire in his expression.

"Watch how fucking sexy you are." He digs his hand through my hair, pulling my body onto his.

My cheeks flush. Can I really watch myself? I have a side view of us, from our knees all the way to the tops of our heads.

He pulls off my t-shirt. Pushes my shorts to my ankles. He has my body pinned to his.

I'm at his mercy.

I can't do anything but watch. I can see my chest, my stomach, my ass, my thighs. My glasses. I'm still in my glasses. I go to take them off but Pete stops me.

"Keep them on." He brings his hands to my hips. "This might be fast. Was thinking about you all night."

My sex clenches as I watch him position our bodies. As I watch him slide inside me.

Mmm. He always feels so good.

He kisses his way from my lips to his ear. Then he's sucking on my earlobe. One hand stays in my hair. The other stays on my hips, pinning me in place as he works his magic thrusting into me.

Pleasure knots inside me quickly. It's intense. I want to close my eyes. But I don't. I keep watching us, watching our bodies join, watching the way his thighs tense and his fingers dig into my skin.

He pulls away from my ear, watching the reflection the way I am. Damn, the way he's watching me. It makes me dizzy.

I'm almost there.

Every thrust is intense. I arch my back, rocking my hips against his. It pushes him deeper. Deeper.

"Harder," I breathe. "I want to feel you come."

He groans into my neck.

Then he's going harder. Deeper.

"Fuck." He groans. He tugs at my hair. "Fuck, Jess."

My last hint of shyness fades away. I stare at our reflection, taking in everything. None of my usual insecurities—the not quite flat stomach, the fleshy thighs, the round ass—pop out. Right now, I'm perfect.

Hell, I'm a sex goddess.

My lips part with a groan. My sex clenches. With his next thrust, I go over the edge. I scream his name again and again as I come.

I keep my gaze on the mirror, watching my muscles clench and relax, watching my teeth sink into my lips, and especially watching the pleasure spread over his face.

Damn, what an orgasm. It's not enough. I need his.

"Fuck me harder, Pete. I want to feel you come." My inhibitions are gone. My words go straight to my tongue.

He groans something incomprehensible. His grip tightens on my hips. He shifts forward, pinning me to the wall, sinking his lips into my neck.

His groans reverberate over my skin. His hand goes to my chest, playing with my nipples. Harder and harder, like he can't contain himself.

There.

His breath goes wild. His nails sink into my skin. I can feel his thighs shaking again mine, his cock pulsing inside me as he comes.

I watch his reflection—the way his eyelids squeeze together as he groans my name. Everything about his reflection is bliss. His orgasm is the best thing I've ever seen.

He keeps me pressed against the wall until he catches his breath. Then his lips are on my neck, making their way to my ear, my jaw, my cheek.

Pete turns me around. Pins me to the wall again. His eyes meet mine. He runs his fingertips along my cheek.

The expression on his face is pure affection.

I open my mouth to speak but my tongue is sticky. Screw words. I rise to my tip toes and kiss him hard. That same affection pours between us. It's still hot as hell, but it's sweeter than before.

––––––––

T
he Italian restaurant is across from the marina in the aptly named city of Marina Del Rey. We're in a private room upstairs. It's much too big for our small group but it's gorgeous—exposed brick walls, thick white table clothes, sheer curtains letting in the soft glow of sunset.

My stomach is in knots. I'm meeting Pete's mom. I know we aren't really together, that there's no risk of pissing off my future mother-in-law, but I want her to like me.

She's the second most important person in his life, after Tom. First even. I'll be crushed if she doesn't like me.

Thankfully, Pete and I are the first to arrive. We wait by the window, our hands tightly interlocked. His touch is comforting. Intimate.

There are footsteps then the door opens. That must be his mom. I struggle to take a deep breath.

"Peter, you look great." A woman's deep voice echoes through the room. "This must be Jess."

I turn towards the door. There's a woman in her late 50s with short hair in the same ombre style as Willow's, only hers is teal instead of pink. It brings out her blue eyes.

I nod a yes and shake her hand.

"Ophelia." She looks to Pete. "She's lovely. How did you find someone so nice so quickly?"

He cocks a brow. "The usual way."

Ophelia lets out a low, throaty chuckle. "You really do take after your brother."

Are they making sex jokes? With the way they're smiling, they must be. I know he's adopted, but still. I can't imagine making a sex joke to anyone in my family.

A tall, curvy woman in a wrap dress steps into the room. She pulls Ophelia into a tight hug and plants a kiss on her lips.

They look happy. Not as happy as Tom and Willow but that's a high bar.

The woman turns to me. "I'm Ellie. You must be Jess."

We shake.

She turns to Pete. "It's nice to see you again, Peter."

He shoots Ophelia a look.

Ophelia chuckles. She has the same low, deep chuckle that he does. "Honey, don't call him Peter. He hates it." She looks at me. "Everyone called him Peter Parker in high school."

"The emo glasses," I say. "I still haven't seen them."

"He looked very studious in them." Ophelia smiles. "You can't imagine how many calls I got from his teachers, wondering why he wasn't doing better in school."

"Really?" I ask

She nods. "He wasn't like Tom. He did his homework. But if he didn't care for a class, he didn't pay it any attention."

I look back to Pete. "Is that right?"

He protests. "I aced physics and chemistry."

"And history?" she asks.

He shrugs.

"You should have seen his Spanish teacher." She laughs. "She called me in tears, wondering why he wouldn't apply himself."

"She was hitting on you, Mom," Pete says.

Ophelia laughs. "She was barely twenty-five."

"You were a MILF," Ellie says. "I knew it."

"Was?" Ophelia teases her girlfriend. "Don't make me kick you to the couch. I have plans for tonight."

Pete turns bright red. Ophelia shakes her head at his sudden shyness.

She throws her hand over her mouth like she's whispering. "Peter and Tom never got over me talking about how I eat pussy."

Somehow, Pete turns even more red.

"Jess doesn't need to hear that," he says.

"Sweetheart, women love talking about cunnilingus. Or they should." She turns to me. "You have to demand what you want."

And now I'm bright red.

Ellie shakes her head. "Poor kids. She was probably worried about accidentally cursing in front of you."

"Curse all you want sweetheart. Especially the c-word. We have to take it back," she says.

"We do?"

"Mom! Jesus!" Pete gets high pitched. He's in full on embarrassed teenager mode.

They share a look.

Ophelia laughs. "Okay. I'll stop torturing you." She smiles at me. "Your frames are lovely."

"Thank you."

"Spider-Man had a blond girlfriend, didn't he Peter?" she asks.

"I don't know," he says.

"Sure you do."

He nods. "Gwen Stacey. But she gets murdered and he ends up with Mary Jane. She's a red head."

"But you don't know." Ophelia laughs.

Pete runs his hand through his hair. "Yeah. Course not."

Ophelia turns to me. "Do you like Spider-Man? I'm always trying to tell Peter that Spider-Man is one of the better superheroes. He lives with his grandparents, he's a photographer, and he really respects women."

Pete shakes his head. He turns to me with a smile. "I hear this every week."

I stare back at him, trying to picture him as Peter Parker/Spider-Man. I can't say that I know enough about comics to decide one way or another. I do like the mental image of him in a tight bodysuit.

And I like Ophelia already. She's a bad ass.

Ellie jumps in. "I'm doing a week on comic books in my 101 class this semester."

"What do you teach?" I ask.

"Sociology." She nudges Ophelia. "She teaches Anthropology. We're not supposed to date within the department."

Ophelia points to her hair. "And I'll have to dye over this before the semester starts."

She motions to the table and everyone takes a seat.