So I Married a Rockstar (8 page)

Frank spits out a mouthful of beer. "Her
dads
?"

I can feel Drax's body stiffening and I can't deny that the 'knight in shining armor' thing is mighty attractive, but I've been fighting this battle my entire life. No need for anyone to get mad.
 

"Yup, I have two fantastic dads who are married and live in the gayest part of San Francisco. Like, they could not be any gayer if they tried. I love them for it, and for raising me to be a smart, caring and strong woman."

Frank looks thoughtful for a second, then nods in acceptance. "Cool. Where's your mom?"

Dammit. I should have known that was coming next, but I've spent so much of my life trying to
not
think about her, that it always takes me off-guard. "Um, she wasn't really a part of my life."

"Oh, was she a surrogate? Cuz I've heard that's a thing."

I smile uneasily, not at all comfortable with the direction the conversation is taking but I also don't want to make a big deal of it. "Nope, I happened the old-fashioned way. But no one wants to talk about their parents having sex, am I right? Besides, she's dead. Now tell me about this gig in Las Vegas."

Savory, bless his heart, takes the hint and pulls out his iPad, rattling off the details of tomorrow night's -- actually, it's closing in on two in the morning, so that should be tonight's -- concert. It's at one of the most popular concert venues in town and will be quite a feather in the band's cap. It's not a casino, but a 4,500-seat hot spot on The Strip is nothing to sneeze at.
 

"Wow, that's quite a coup to get booked there," I say. "I'm no expert, but doesn't that place mainly book big names?"

"You saying we're not good enough?" Drax asks. Oh man, I've really put my foot in it now!

"No, I just...um...I mean, I didn't think you...I just didn't realize you were so popular."
 

Lame. So lame! My cheeks burn with embarrassment. They really should kick me off the bus right now. I don't even like heavy metal. Some manager I'll make.

He squeezes me into his side and chuckles. "Chill, I'm just teasing you a little. Actually, we're not that popular...yet. There'll be three other bands, and we're opening the show."

"Oh. But still, that's a good gig, right?" I feel like an idiot asking, but I really don't have a clue. Plus, I'm still embarrassed by my blunder. "I'm sorry, are you guys sure you want me handling this till you find someone qualified?"

Savory smiles and passes the tablet my way. "Dude, chill. Here are all the details. It's all set up. You just need to make sure we show up on time."

"Easier said than done," I snort, poking a finger into Drax's side. He jumps, then growls at me. I swear, he growls. The sound reverberates through my body and the fiery look he's giving me sends shivers of anticipation straight to my core.

"Not gonna be a problem," he says without taking his ice blue eyes off my lips. My nipples pucker in response. "I don't plan to let her out of the back room till it's time to go onstage. In fact, if you boys will excuse us...and even if you won't."

Grabbing my hand, he drags me upright into his arms. "Ready for bed?"

As far as band busses go, this one isn't huge, but it's pretty comfy. The main living area is certainly better furnished than my college apartment ever was, what with the black leather couches and overstuffed chairs. There are two tiny bunks with black-out curtains built into one side directly across from what I'm guessing is the bathroom.
 

But all of this barely registers as Drax ushers me toward the back bedroom. He's behind me, arms wrapped around my waist, nuzzling my neck and walking me forward. Every stride results in my backside bumping into his frontside, which grows more...
bumpy
with each step, not to mention every jostle from the moving bus.
 

I should be exhausted after the day I've had but I could not be more awake. At first I think I'm still dizzy from my fall from the loading dock, but then I realize I'm quite literally delirious with desire.

Boy, it
has
been a long time.

Before he even gets the flimsy accordion door all the way closed behind us, he's slowly unzipping my form-fitting dress. I want to spin around, hike the stretchy blue fabric up to my waist and ride him like a pony, but he seems intent on taking his time.
 

One hand reaches up and brushes my soft brown curls over my shoulder, exposing my neck, while the other slowly -- so painfully slowly -- inches the zipper down a tiny bit at a time. The tips of his fingers tickle the sensitive skin of my back but I'm paying more attention to his lips, which are brushing down my neck.
 

Oh God.

I try to turn in his arms but he won't let me. "What's your hurry, Lola?" he whispers in my ear before continuing his slow progress. I can hear the smile in his voice and I melt a little.

He's torturing me. I've figured it out. Everything that happened tonight was all part an elaborate plan to lure me back here to torment me and make me lose my mind. Ah, what sweet, sweet agony. The only thing I can do is concentrate on my breathing and try not to vibrate out of my own skin.

Cool air whispers across the length of my back and I know my zipper is all the way down, yet my stupid dress is still on. I sigh in frustration and anticipation.

"Shh," he breathes as his lips follow the path of my zipper. I sigh again in response, this time out of delight.

The fingers of his left hand gently push the fabric down my shoulder, and I swear I can feel the callouses on his fingertips from years of guitar playing. My senses are so heightened that I'm pretty sure I could feel the breeze from a gnat flying by.

My hands itch to touch him, to do
something
, but I don't realize they're clenching open and closed until the fingers of one of his big paws intertwines with mine. I can't remember the last time a man held my hand and my gaze is transfixed by the sight.
 

Something wells up inside me, something unexpected and a little frightening. Fury. Not anger, but my entire being feels as if it's turned into a tornado, a whirling vortex of hope and fear and love and hate and...well, pretty much every emotion humans feel.

Every caress only makes the cyclone inside me more powerful, more terrifying, threatening to spin out of control. I can't just stand here any longer. Turning in his arms, I'm determined to ravage Drax, right here, right now. Enough of this sweet seduction stuff. I need it. I need him.

Now.

But when my eyes find his, I freeze. His cool blue irises bely the fire dancing in them. His upper lip is curled like an animal about to attack. I'm the prey and, like a deer caught in headlights, I'm powerless to move.

Somewhere in my consciousness, I feel the palm of his hand brush my cheek before burying itself in my thick curls but it's taking all my willpower to continue sucking air into my lungs. It was never like this with my ex, Taggart, not even close. What's happening now is like a rocket launch compared to Taggart's sad little sparkler.

Drax dips his head and my eyelids drop in anticipation. Only then, when the tractor beam of his gaze is broken, do I regain my senses. And, oh boy, are they awesome!

The heat from his breath warms my lips a fraction of a second before they press against mine, softly at first but with increasing intensity. Our tongues greet each other like old lovers, teasing and dancing together as if they'd been waiting for this moment forever. I dunno, maybe they have.

Don't be stupid. This is nothing more than a one-night stand. Two, at best.
The whisper in the far recesses of my insecure brain tries to push forward and say more but I punch it in the ovaries and send it running into the black. No more thinking tonight. I'm right where I want to be at this very moment and I couldn't be happier. Pepper would be so proud.

Drax's hands are skimming my arms, tugging the dress down as they go, until my ample breasts bounce free from the restraining fabric. I gasp at the cool air on my overheated skin and thank the universe that I opted for no bra this morning. When his warm hands cup me, I moan, heedless of his bandmates just a few feet away.
 

I'm too busy kissing him to look down but it feels like his thumbs are teasing my nipples into hard peaks. God knows I don't want him to stop so I shimmy the rest of the way out of the dress on my own, kicking it into a corner of the tiny room. Thank goodness I took my boots off after we boarded the bus, because that would have been quite the gymnastics feat.

I'm already off-balance from the way Drax makes my head spin, so when the bus lurches,
 
I fall backward onto the bed. Drax tries to catch me, which throws him off balance, too, and he lands right on top of me. Right where I wanted him to be, eventually, but maybe under more romantic circumstances. We both burst out laughing.
 

"You okay?" he snorts, though I can see he's searching my face for any trace of pain. I'm really cracking up -- seriously, it's been a crazy day and I think all that tension is coming out as great big guffaws -- so I can only nod.
 

"Good," he says, his tone changing to something more dangerous. "Because you're right where I want you."

The laughter dies on my lips as he shifts the length of his body down mine, inch by inch, until his mouth wraps around one of my diamond-hard peaks. "Ah!" I cry out, digging a stocking-clad heel into the small of his back.

Drax doesn't linger, though I wish he would. He could do that all damn day and I would never get tired of it. But I'm guessing he has other tricks up his sleeve and I salivate wondering what they might be.

As if I don't know already.

His big hands skim my curves from top to bottom while his tongue leaves a shimmering trail down to my belly button. Damn, I had no idea how sensitive it was. Maybe not so much as other parts of me, but those parts tighten up in response.

I think he's going to continue working his way south, but he doesn't. Instead, he stands so he's between my legs, which are dangling off the edge of the bed. I'm sprawled out before him, completely exposed except for a very tiny black thong and my thigh-high stockings. It's strange but I'm not at all uncomfortable by his hungry stare. I'm his to do with as he wishes. Maybe one-night stands aren't so bad after all.

He drinks in the smorgasbord laid out before him, but he can't seem to get enough. Tucking a hand under one leg, he slides it down the underside until he has a firm grip on my ankle, then he deftly flips me over on my tummy.

"Fuck me," he breathes as he gets his first view of my big ol' bedonkedonk. That nasty whisper in my head tries to get me to believe he's saying that in a not-so-friendly way but I don't pay any attention. The whisper shuts up as soon as he kneels between my thighs and starts rubbing my ass.
 

"Damn, you're hot!"

Take that, whisper!

I feel kind of silly, lying here with my legs all splayed like this, but as soon as his lips touch my skin, all coherent thought -- even the whisper -- goes silent. His hands can't get enough of my ass as he peels off my thong and flicks it away. I grab a pillow and bury my face in it to quiet my moans of pleasure at the things his mouth is doing. Whatever it is, it's driving me wild and he hasn't even reached
the
spot yet.

He wraps his arms under and around my hips, pushing my thighs even wider until I'm totally open to him. I can feel his hot gaze on me, and I nearly explode from it. I need him so much. My ass rises and wiggles involuntarily, dragging another moan from him.

Then his lips are on me, his tongue and fingers in me, searching, probing, prying, and I scream out in pleasure. My body moves of its own accord, thrusting and shifting in response to Drax's movements. Sensations threaten to overwhelm my sanity, and just when I think my head is going to explode, I feel it starting.

He senses it, too, and dives even deeper, lapping at me like I'm an ice cream cone on a hot day. He can't get enough, and each flick of his tongue draws the quickening ever closer. The pillow is soaked with my sweat, probably some drool and maybe even tears, but I keep my big mouth buried. I can't stop the noises coming from the depths of my soul, and they're
loud
.

When Drax drags his tongue along entire length of my dark crevasse, while his fingers perform other miracles, tiny stars burst behind my eyelids. Every nerve ending is on fire, the fuse burning down until...

Ka-pow!

I writhe on the bed, grinding into his face while he laps up the evidence of his domination. Wave after wave, convulsion after convulsion, I'm at his mercy and he takes full advantage, drawing out my bliss for what seems like hours, over and over until I cry out.
 

"Enough!"

Even through the pillow, he can hear I can't take any more. Once I recover my senses, I'll reciprocate. Fair's fair, and now it's his turn. Oh yeah, and mine
again
.

Once more, he flips me over, ducking under my leg so he can stay right where he wants to be. My entire body is pulsing and occasionally spasming. I'm exhausted and exhilarated. Ready to pass out and keep going. I'm a woman full of contradictions and soon to be full of Drax.

I barely have enough strength to lift my head and meet his gaze over my neatly groomed mound. (Another prayer of gratitude for Papi shoving me into the bathroom with his waxing kit.) Drax knows I'm incapable of breaking eye contact with him so he stares hard as he licks his way up, wracking my body with more torturous, delicious shudders.
 

I want to reach for him, to touch him, but my arms are Jello and all I'm capable of is keeping my head high enough to look at him. A tear slides down the side of my face and I vaguely wonder why I'm crying. But I'm not, really. I've just never experienced anything so raw, so powerful. It's sort of like staring at the sun while riding a roller coaster through a hurricane.
 

Drax stands and tears his T-shirt over his head, his biceps and triceps and all his other '-eps' bulging out as if to say, 'Lick me.' I'm slack-jawed at his physique. Is he for real? I've heard of six-packs before but I never knew someone could have an eight-pack. When he reaches for his belt, I suck in my breath. I'm almost afraid to find out what he's packing down there. On the other hand, I can't wait.