Rock Courtship Rock Courtship (Rock Kiss #1.5) (9 page)

D
avid wasn’t sure he was
still alive. Pulling out of Thea, her moan husky, he staggered to the bathroom and got rid of the condom. When he came back into the bedroom, it was to see Thea hadn’t moved from the position in which he’d left her, her thighs spread and her legs hanging over the edge of the bed.

His recently satisfied cock twitched.

Lifting her body against his chest with arms that trembled, he placed her fully on the bed, then came down on top of her. He claimed a kiss that she reciprocated lazily, then he nuzzled her throat, went to pet her breast. She closed her hand over his wrist when he squeezed.

Easing his hold at the silent indication that it was too much after her orgasm, he ran his mouth back up to hers and nibbled on her lower lip before shifting to lie on his side beside her, one leg thrown over hers. Yeah, it was possessive. He didn’t care. “You’re noisy in bed.” He pressed his lips to her shoulder. “I like it.” There was no guessing; she told him exactly what she liked and he found that erotic enough to scramble his brain.

Weaving her fingers into his hair, she said, “I’ve never been that loud.” Her tone held a tinge of shock. “David, I think you blew my circuits.”

He grinned. “Good, because I don’t have any circuits left.” Sliding his hand lightly over her breast and down her stomach to cup her gently between the thighs, he braced himself on one elbow and bent down to sip at her lips in teasing little kisses.

She closed her thighs around his hand.

Feeling the aftershocks that rippled through her, he stroked her core with a finger while continuing to cup her. Her arms came around him, her body undulating against him. “This is ludicrous,” she said breathlessly. “I can’t come again.”

David chuckled and continued to kiss her, hold her, pet her. She did come again. It was quieter this time, softer, and just as stunning. Watching her as the pleasure took her under, he felt his heart ache. She was so lovely, and she’d given him the right to put his hands on her. Kissing her as the final tremors faded from her skin, he removed his hand to curve it over her hip.

Breath short and shallow, she turned toward him and slid her own thigh between his. “I think I’m done.” Fingers stroking down his chest. “For now.”

David ran one hand over her body, his other arm acting as his pillow, and just looked at her. Her skin was flushed and marked by his kisses and caresses, her hair tumbled and her breasts reddened. She looked deliciously used and sated, and best of all, she looked like that in
his
bed.

“I really,” he said ten minutes of lazy quiet later, “want to do that again.”

Thea drew a circle around one of his nipples, leaned in to lick over the flat disk. He groaned and turned onto his back. She came with him, her breasts rubbing over his chest as she kissed his throat, then his jaw, his mouth. “I could be persuaded.” A wicked smile. “You know I like the Gentleman of Rock’s dirty side.”

He loved her smile, loved that she was teasing him. Utterly gone for her, he palmed one of her bottom cheeks, squeezed the firm curve of it… and his stomach growled. “Shit.”

Her hair creating a soft, silky curtain around them, Thea laughed. “Time for some fuel?”

“Fuck fuel. I want you.”

And he had her—or she had him, a slender goddess rising and falling on his cock in a slow rhythm that made his balls draw up tight and fresh perspiration break out over his skin. He gave in, allowed himself to be taken. He was hers after all.

T
hea sat on the kitchen
counter dressed in one of David’s Armani shirts. It was white with fine blue pinstripes and he’d put her in it, leaving most of the buttons undone. He was throwing together some pasta for them while she nibbled on trail mix and enjoyed looking at him in his low-slung jeans.

Barefoot and shirtless, he was just yummy.

And as she now knew, the man wasn’t all talk. Holy hell, he was definitely no gentleman in bed. There, he was pure, raw sex… and a sweet tenderness that made her feel cherished even while they were doing the most carnal things. A silent sigh escaping her, she visually traced the lines of text running vertically down the back of his left shoulder.

It was the first time she’d had a real look at his tats. Unlike the other guys, he never took off his T-shirt onstage and had never agreed to do a magazine profile where he was shirtless. He’d been photographed shirtless while on the beach, of course, but like most paparazzi pictures, those images didn’t have the level of intricate detail that would showcase his ink.

At first, she’d figured his choice was smart brand management; as the man crowned the Gentleman of Rock, he had a unique place in the market. He was the first rocker Thea had had as a client who’d been offered endorsement deals by luxury watch companies and designers who specialized in top-of-the-line shirts and suits.

He rarely accepted those offers, though the one campaign he’d done had been through-the-roof successful. Everyone wanted to undress the sexy rock star who wore button-down shirts and turned up to events in finely tailored suits. The idea of what lay underneath drove women nuts.

Now that Thea had seen,
felt
, what was underneath, she wanted to tell those women to eat their hearts out. The man was certifiably hot. He was also shy on a deeper level than even she had initially understood. His clothing choices had nothing to do with brand management—that was a happy accident—David just wasn’t comfortable being half-naked in public.

It was adorable and sexy at the same time.

Thea was quite happy to keep this view her own private visual feast.

 “Do you all have that tat, the lines from your first hit song? I’ve seen Fox’s and Noah’s in photo layouts.”

“Abe’s is on his lower back,” David told her. “Same side as mine.” When he turned toward her, she saw the other vertical lines she’d noticed in bed—when he’d so magnificently thrust into her.

Placed on the lower right of his abs, it was music, a beat she couldn’t quite figure out. Not yet anyway. He also had a small anchor inked on his left bicep. That one she knew about—it was in honor of his grandfather, who’d been a seaman all his life and had died in a fishing accident when David was eight.

The final tattoo was a tribal design that circled his upper left thigh. It was covered by his jeans now, but she remembered the bold lines and curves of it. “Where did you get the thigh tattoo done?”

“New Zealand.” His eyes met hers, more brown than gold in this light. “I had to do something to stop obsessing about when you’d reply to my memos.”

There went those butterflies again. “I almost pulled out my mother’s prized hybrids instead of weeds, I was so distracted by your memos.”

That made his smile deepen. Turning back to the stove, he stirred the sauce. Thea gave in to her need and, jumping off the counter, went and kissed his shoulder. “That sauce smells divine.” The guys ribbed David about his skills in the kitchen, but they all pulled up a chair at the table anytime he was cooking.

“My dad taught me this recipe,” he said. “I used to make it to help him and my mom out when I could see work had exhausted them. Had to stand on a chair to reach the supplies, I was so fucking short.”

His words were amused, but they made her heart twist. “You’re a good man, David,” she whispered. “A good son.”

A touch of color on his cheeks, he shrugged. “They sacrificed a lot to make sure I grew up right, had every chance. I promised myself that when I was a man, I’d make sure they never had to work that hard again.”

With every word he spoke, he proved himself the man she’d always believed him to be, a man of honor and loyalty. The only thing she didn’t know was if that extended to his woman. Thea wanted to trust him, but she’d known too many good men who treated their women differently. But she wanted to believe. So much.

S
eated in David’s car the
next day, Thea felt deliciously used. David not only had serious moves, he had serious stamina. The man had kept her up most of the night, made her scream and beg before he fucked her so hard she could still feel his cock inside her. The tactile memory made muscles low in her body twinge, as, toes curling, she took in his dark blue shirt and black pants.

“I just want to unbutton you,” she said. “And unzip you so I can suck on you.” She hadn’t gotten around to feasting on him because David kept distracting her with the sinful things he was doing to her body. The way he touched her, the way he looked at her—she’d never felt so beautiful, so desirable, so heartbreakingly cherished.

“We are not turning around,” he said on a groan. “My parents are expecting us for lunch.”

Passion doused and stomach in knots, the butterflies sulking, she slumped back in her seat and fussed with the red and gold silk scarf she’d paired with jeans and a simple but pretty white top over which she’d thrown her jacket. “Next time, don’t give me a love bite if we’re planning to see your folks,” she muttered in an effort to fight her nerves. “Or mine.”

“I like nibbling on you.” He squeezed her thigh. “Hey, it’ll be fun.”

She put her hand over his. “It’s the guilt,” she said. “I’m not used to lying to my parents—and I don’t want to start out by lying to yours.” Yet all the reasons why she didn’t want to drag either family into this fledgling relationship remained.

“We won’t lie,” David said. “My folks will make up their own minds about who you are to me.” His eyes locked with hers. “I think it’s pretty damn obvious.”

“Light’s green,” she said huskily, fighting the urge to crawl into his lap and kiss him.

As it was, she squeezed his hand to bruising tightness as they walked down the hallway to his parents’ large apartment. “What if they don’t like me?” she suddenly blurted out.

“They already love you.” He squeezed her hand back. “Why are you so nervous?”

Because you matter. More than any man has ever mattered.
Part of Thea kept waiting for something to go horribly wrong. “We’re here,” she said and knocked on the door before she chickened out.

It was pulled open a few seconds later by Mrs. Rivera. Dark-eyed and dark-haired and as petite as Thea’s own mom, the older woman took one look at them and, crying out in open glee, hugged Thea, then kissed David on both cheeks. “At last you bring home a girl!” she said, her hands on either side of his face as he bent toward her. “And you bring home my favorite girl of all!”

David laughed. “Thea was nervous you wouldn’t like her.”

“David!” Thea elbowed him.

Beaming, Mrs. Rivera released his face and took Thea’s hand. “Come inside.” The vibrant yellow of her dress swirled around her knees. “His pa’s just taking the rolls out of the oven. Vicente!”

Mr. Rivera came out of the kitchen, a big, solid man with salt-and-pepper hair and David’s eyes. “There you are,” he said, as if Thea had just popped out for a minute.

She was engulfed in his embrace an instant later, his scent holding echoes of cinnamon and other spices, the way he held her so reminiscent of her father’s hugs that her remaining nerves faded. “Thanks for having me to lunch,” she said to them both afterward.

“Pfft.” Mrs. Rivera flicked a dish towel at her, having had it hanging over her shoulder. “Come into the kitchen with me. We’ll leave David and Vicente to talk.”

Walking into the spacious room painted in warm cream tones with accents of deep, autumnal orange, Thea said, “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. Just stay here and talk to me.” Mrs. Rivera stirred something on the stove. “David’s favorite chili.” Her eyes twinkled. “So, you finally took notice of my boy.”

Skin flushing, Thea leaned back against the counter, hands braced on it. “I always noticed him,” she admitted. “I just… wasn’t in the right place to do anything about it.”

“Ah, the other one, hmm?” Alicia Rivera shook her head and went over to toss a bowl of salad sitting farther down the counter that held the tempered black glass of the built-in stovetop. “I had one like him before David’s father. I still haven’t forgiven Vicente for not finding me first, but he says I had to go through the other one so I’d appreciate him.”

Thea felt her lips curve. “David is wonderful.” Then, because Mrs. Rivera reminded her so much of her own mom, said, “For us, it’ll be about surviving the world around us.”

The other woman’s expression grew solemn. “Yes. Always people poking and prodding and prying.” Switching off the stove, she walked over to Thea and took her face in her hands, her palms warm and soft. “This is good, what I see in your eyes when you look at David, what I see in his when he looks at you. Fight for it.”

Throat thick, Thea nodded. “I will.” With every breath she had.

Mrs. Rivera drew her down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Come on, Thea. Let’s get this food out.”

Conversation flowed so comfortably throughout the simple, delicious lunch that Thea stopped watching her tongue, stopped thinking about the right things to say, and just said what came naturally.

“You know this boy?” Vicente Rivera pointed at David with part of a bread roll. “You know what he did when he was eighteen?”

“Dad.” David groaned. “Thea doesn’t need to know about that.”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” Thea said, laughing at David’s quelling look.

“Here, Thea.” Mrs. Rivera put more chili in her bowl. “Eat it. It’s good for you.”

Smiling, Thea accepted the maternal order. “Thank you.”

“So,” Vicente Rivera said, one arm on the back of his wife’s chair, “he comes home on vacation partway through his senior year and he shows me all these scholarship forms and brochures from fancy colleges. He tells me his grades are in the top percentage of his class and that he’s already started taking the tests to get into a good school. He’s going to become a lawyer, make us proud.”

“A lawyer?” Chili forgotten, Thea turned to David. “You never said you wanted to become a lawyer.”

“That’s because he didn’t want to,” Mrs. Rivera interjected with an affectionate shake of her head while David bit off a roll. “He thought that was what we wanted, that he should become a big professional man, have a nice car, a nice house.”