Songbird (26 page)

“True.” Nicholas set the guitar aside and
stood. Suddenly wary of the gleam in his eye I dropped the mug back
to the table and took several steps back. “You’ve done your very
best to keep us from being completely alone the last couple of
days.”

I retreated from his advance before I
realized my mistake. The way out was behind Nicholas. Not behind
me.

“Nicholas, I’ve told you.” My protest turned
into a squeak when he darted forward and grabbed me around the
waist.

His eyes were laughing as he brought our
mouths together. At the first touch, the laughter was over. He was
a little rough, hungry and not altogether gentle. Impatience
strained the edges of his desire and reflected in his mouth and
roaming hands.

A choked gasp caught in my throat when he
tugged my head back by my loose hair and ran his impatient, hard
mouth over the column of exposed skin. My hands fisted in his
shirt, originally to push him away, but now I needed the
anchor.

“Nicholas.” Was that breathy sound me?

“I’m tired of waiting.” He pressed
open-mouthed kisses against my collarbone. And then to my utter
shock he put both his hands on my ass and lifted me over his
shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“What the fuck.” My foot was fast, but he
anticipated my protest and pinned my legs down. “Walker, put me
down.”

I didn’t have a belt handy, so I fisted my
hands instead and beat them against his ass. “Put me down.”

The world spun as I bounced on the bed I had
crawled out of only moments ago. Before I could scramble out again,
Nicholas dropped on top of me. His hands and mouth were everywhere
at once.

“You brute.” The words snapped out in a poor
attempt to hide how he affected me. I shoved, and wriggled and
ultimately failed to move him any.

“You like it.” Nicholas nipped lightly at my
jaw and his hands slid under fabric to caress and tease. They
didn’t falter over the corset concealing my guns, instead just
continued steadily upwards.

With all of him pressing me into the mattress
he rubbed in delicious ways that breathing became rapidly
difficult, sparing him from any reply.

“Let me.” Nicholas pressed a hard kiss
against my mouth. “Just…” His hands cupped and pinched and I moaned
as my body arched towards him, resistance dying in the heat of
passion.

There was too much to feel, too much to
experience. Nicholas cursed and shifted and for a heartbeat we
lined up perfectly causing us both to groan.

“You’re wearing too many clothes.” His growl
was punctuated by fabric ripping, then the weight of my holster
being removed. Instead of inciting fear it thrilled me.

I wasn’t strong enough to tear fabric but
Nicholas removed his clothes at record speeds when I tugged on the
material. Free of the restrictive suit I wrapped my legs around his
waist and pressed invitingly against him. Skin met skin and the
friction lit fire in my blood.

“Nicholas.” My hands fisted in his hair and
pulled his mouth back to mine.

“Fuck, Songbird.” He and slid a hand between
us to cup my center. His fingers played with the sensitive flesh,
sending shockwaves rocketing through my system.

“Nicholas.” So close just…so close.

“So fucking wet.” He bit down on my
collarbone and I cried out undulating against his hand, demanding
more.

Nicholas thrust his fingers in and I broke,
calling his name. I whimpered when he removed his hand only to have
the sound transform into a quiet moan when he pressed the tip of
his cock against my entrance.

He rocked slowly, his body shaking from the
control. If I had breathe to curse I would have. I’d been almost
eight years without sex. That was long enough that everything was
almost virginal tight. The pain was almost as intense as the man.
God, it was so fucking wonderful.

Impatience flooded me and my hips flexed up
taking more of him than he was apparently ready to give because he
froze.

“Fuck, Songbird.” Nicholas brought our mouths
together and his hands tightened on my waist holding me in place.
His hands were stronger than my hips preventing any motion I tried.
Agonizingly slow he pushed the rest of himself into me then
paused.

I yanked on the hair I had fisted in my hand.
“Nicholas.”

“A minute. I need a minute.” He demanded and
kissed me like his life depended on it.

With more ferocity the strands in my hands
were jerked on. “If you don’t fucking—” I didn’t get to finish
because he pulled out slowly and pushed back in. The two little
balls on that fucking piercing dragged and pulled in places that
created mind blowing friction.

“Like that do you?” His chuckle turned to a
groan when I squeezed all the muscles I could. He shifted and
quickened his tempo, but only enough to torment.

Frustrated just a little, I released one hand
from his hair and ran it over his shoulders to his chest. I pinched
a nipple slightly and was surprised when he shuddered lightly and
his tempo faltered. I wasn’t the only one with sensitive nipples
apparently.

Evilly now, because I wanted him to create a
lot more friction with that damned piercing I released the other
hand from his hair and brought it down to the other nipple.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Nicholas’s hands released
my hips to grab my wrist and yank my pinchy fingers over my head. I
shifted my hips and my eyes nearly rolled back when the faster
tempo I demanded hit something inside of me that caused stars to
explode across my vision.

“Can’t fucking savor the moment can you?” He
groaned and matched my speeding hips beat for beat. Shifting both
my hands into one of his then using his free hand Nicholas guided
my hips into that perfect position to hit that internal spot with
every thrust.

Pressure built until I was sobbing demands
even I didn’t understand. Nicholas seemingly did because he fused
his mouth to mine and moved his tongue in rhythm with our hips. The
single touch from the hand that wandered from my hip sent me over
the edge in a wordless cry.

Nicholas’s hips jerked at a faster tempo for
a handful of thrusts when my insides clamped around him. He groaned
into my mouth before collapsing on top of me motionless but for our
heavy breathing.

After several very long moments I noticed the
damp mattress beneath my ass. “Nicholas.”

“Hmm?” He rubbed his nose against the side of
my head.

“You didn’t use a condom.” Not a question,
nor a statement I wanted to be making.

“No diseases here.” He pressed light kisses
to my jaw and earlobe. “You’re safe.”

“Did you consider, you might not be?”

“My risk to take.” He yawned and nibbled the
earlobe he’d kissed. “You are definitely worth the risk.”

I closed my eyes and tried not to scream.
There were no nasty diseases in me either, but that wasn’t the
point. “And what about pregnancy?”

“I think we’re both old enough and wise
enough to know how to take care of children.”

Again, not something I wanted to be
contemplating at this particular moment.

“You don’t take birth control?” He didn’t
sound like he cared either way, but I had to remind myself Nicholas
wasn’t the most responsible of people.

I sighed. What else was I supposed to do? He
couldn’t be reasoned with in certain moods and I knew that.

My period was still a week away. The Depo
shot handled most things, but it wasn’t infallible. With that being
considered my most fertile time was around fourteen days ago.
Still, who could accurately judge Mother Nature? If he got me
pregnant I would kill him.

My eyes crossed when he shifted pulling
closer—I hadn’t thought we could get closer—and dragged those
fucking little balls against sensitive flesh.

I wriggled a hand free and slapped it against
his ass. “You’re not exactly light.”

He chuckled into my hair. Asshole.

“Walker, I can’t breathe.”

He grunted and turned his head to look into
my face. “You know, having sex with someone reveals a lot.”

My heart sank a little. I had been naked
before and he hadn’t seemed to mind it. Then again it hadn’t been
sex before. A hard swallow did nothing for the rising distress. “I
know my body is imperfect…” Before the sentence completed, I bit my
tongue. There was no reason to apologize for my shape or size.

Nicholas pushed up to an elbow and looked
down into my face. I averted my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek
to keep from being stupidly emotional.

“Bianca, look at me,” He waited for my eyes
to meet his. “You have a beautiful body. I love your body. Reveal
as in personality. I’ve seen you naked before and you’re as
glorious now as you were then. I have no complaints.”

If he hadn’t been watching me the tears that
pricked my eyes would have been discreetly wiped away. Nicholas
leaned in and kissed them away. Then dropped his full weight back
down.

“Walker, come on.” I shoved unsuccessfully at
his shoulders. “You really are heavy.”

A lazy hand played in my hair. Since the
night in San Diego Nicholas developed some kind of infatuation with
my hair. He was always touching it, pulling on it, or whatever.
Little boys and their weird habits.

“As I was saying,” Nicholas continued with
eyes closed and voice growing sleepy, “sex reveals a lot. Like the
fact I’m only Nicholas when I’m buried balls deep into you. You’ve
never called me Nick or Nicky, thank God. Otherwise, though I’m
Walker. Mr. Walker when you’re annoyed or pissed, and I’ll let the
rule breaking slide on that because temper is something I
definitely understand.”

“How generous of you.” I pinched his ass with
no reaction from him but flexed muscle. What the hell were we
talking about when he was collapsed on top of me and still firmly
nestled inside? I should protest but since the damage was already
done, why bother?

“You’re welcome.” He yawned again. “Anyway.
Why can’t I be Nicholas all the time?”

He shifted again rubbed deliberately though
it was obvious he didn’t have another round in him and sighed. I
rubbed gentle circles on his back considering his question. A week
ago I would have said decorum, professionalism even. I couldn’t use
that answer now. When his light snoring lulled me to sleep I still
didn’t have an answer.

I woke because the bed was cold. I didn’t
need to be a genius to know I was alone or that Nicholas had
apparently been gone for some time. A note was pinned to the pillow
beside my head.

Sorry about the clothes. They’re beyond
repair. I’ll replace them. I’m using some music from your books. We
can discuss the technical part of that later. Went to the stage
rehearsal. Don’t freak. It’s your off day too.

~Walker

P.S. You never did answer my question.

He made me smile, even when he wasn’t
present. And frustrated the hell out of me. Hadn’t he ever heard of
a thing called permission? Maybe I didn’t want that music used.
Huffing a little I climbed out of bed.

My body was sore but not in a bad way.
Certainly not in a way I was used to being in pain. I decided that
was something to add to the plus column not the negative.

Retrieving my corset holster from the floor,
I checked the gun and strapped it back on. My underwear—my favorite
pair no less—were a lost cause. The bra straps had been snapped and
the thong was nothing more than shredded tissue. Funny, I hadn’t
felt him rip them off in any violence. All the buttons on my blouse
had been popped off. The zipper of my skirt was ripped.

Suits weren’t cheap. I’d give him this one.
If he continued to ruin clothes he would be replacing them.

I was leery of leaving the room without
clothes on. The guys were probably on stage at the moment, but they
could return at any moment. Looking around the room I thought what
the hell. As Nicholas pointed out it was my damn off day too.

I went through his clothes. The man had
enough for an entire Broadway lineup. One of his black band tee
shirts, and a pair of his gray sweatpants covered modesty. I said
fuck it to a bra; this was my off day too. The black shirt was
pretty thick so I wasn’t overly concerned. Since my hair was a
tangled mess I just piled it on top of my head and under his hat.
With that settled I went out to the bunks and got a pair of sock
and my cross runners.

With no makeup, my hair tousled and armed
with only a cup of coffee—well okay and the Ruger—I sought out the
guys. The concert hall was within walking distance, down at the
corner of the hotel according to Obi’s report. However, when I
stepped out I realized the busses were conveniently parked at the
back entrance of the concert hall.

I nodded to one of the security guys as I
walked through the back doors and into the fast pace of stage
production. Moving along the edges and shadows, I worked my way
around to the sound panel in the front of the house. Drake Henley’s
familiar braids were bowed over a control panel adjusting
sound.