Sweet Melody (Rock & Rodeo Romance #1) (13 page)

H
unter scoops
me up in his arms and walks me to the edge of his bed. The soft glow of multiple candles casts shadows around the room. Romantic as hell, and exactly what I was trying to avoid.

My plan that I had concocted while working was to have the best hard sex of my life with him and call it quits. Better to end on a high note than after my heart’s been broken in a million pieces.

But the man has known since Day One exactly how to get to me. What to say to me. How to make me listen. How to make my feet stop even when I’m dying for them to run. And how to make me come in so many ways, I’ve lost count. Does it matter that Day One happened a little over a week ago?

He lays me down on the sheets. My hands grope his arms and tug, wanting him on top of me. Wanting him inside me. When we’re melded together, making each other crazy, all doubts and worries fade.

“Not this time, Mel. You wanted me to take charge. So give in, and let me take care of you.”

He picks up his phone and taps a few times. Music flows out of a speaker near his bed. He turns his full attention on me. His eyes sweep over my entire body as he stands over me. Discomfort rises until I see the sly grin on his face. He knows. He always knows.

Shaking off my insecurity, I stretch out on the bed into a sexy pose. At least I hope it resembles something close to sexy.

“See something you like?”

The bed dips as he lowers himself over me. He hovers on top of me, his muscles tense and bulging. My eyes take in the view. Beads of moisture from after the shower cling to his body, and the candlelight makes his skin glisten. Every peak and valley of his body’s contour stands out. His cock that does such fantastic things to me presses into my stomach. Okay, I can’t see it, but I can sure as hell feel it.

I follow my hand as it glides up his bicep, my fingers tracing the engaged muscles. His stubble bristles as I rub and cup his face. My thumb slides over his lips, which part at my touch. I don’t look into his eyes until the last second.

He kisses my thumb and leans close enough to kiss me. “Not just like.”

Butterflies erupt in my stomach. My old issues rear their ugly heads, and tug at me to leave. But my heart. Oh, my heart. It wants him to say the word that’s been knocking around inside it. The word I don’t want to think about. I don’t say that word. Not to anyone. Especially not to a guy. Could I say it to Hunter? Do I want to?

“Breathe, Melody. I’ve got you.”

A finger stroking my cheek breaks me out of my mini panic mode. He studies my face, and his gaze penetrates me. He sees me as I am, and I know he senses the darker parts of me despite my efforts to hide them. Yet he’s still here. And yes, he does have me. Every part of me knows that even if I break, he has me.

He still hasn’t lowered himself onto me or kissed me yet. It would take nothing for me to pull him down on top, but he wants me to let him be in control. I’m not sure how long I can resist wrapping myself around him or how long it will take before he gives in to what our bodies want.

“You planning on blindfolding me tonight?”

His abs flex against me with his chuckle. “Are you planning on running?”

“No.” The quick response gives my heart hope. “Is that why you did it that first night?”

He drops his lower body on top of me, but props himself up with his arms so we can talk. “No. But it was an added bonus that you couldn’t see where to go.”

“True. So no blindfold tonight?”

His nose skims my face, yet he doesn’t kiss me. The intimacy of the act affects me more than when we go at each other with passion. And yet, the heat and desire burn white hot.

“You trust me, right?” He lifts himself up so he can look at me.

My heart’s wide open. The answer comes as quickly as the other. “Yes.”

His breath catches for a second before he grins. “Good. Then I want you to be able to see everything tonight.” He lowers his body on top of mine and kisses me.

More butterflies flood my stomach. But now, they flutter through my entire body, sending it on edge. It doesn’t matter where his hands touch me, how he kisses me, or how wet he makes me. Those are minor details compared to the rush of emotions that consume me. I’m falling hard and fast, and instead of it hurting, it feels fucking fantastic. Darkness doesn’t swallow me. Instead, I’m surrounded by the warm glow of light and Hunter.

Tears pool, and I shut my eyes. I don’t cry. And I seriously don’t cry in front of others.

His finger brushes the wet trail from my cheek. “I know, baby, I know. You’re just catching up to me.”

He completely consumes me. His touch ignites wherever he strokes. His lips cover me, travel across my body, and return to feast on my mouth. My body responds to each caress. Breath catches. Nipples harden. Desire pools.

I am his instrument, and he plays me perfectly. We writhe against each other, our bodies sticky with sweat. Lust turns into desperation. Want him. Need him. Now.

I beg, opening my legs wide. He sucks a nipple into his mouth. I plead, grinding my core against him. He pinches my other hardened peak, sending sparks into my belly and down. My nails dig into his back and ass, urging him to enter me.

He shifts and moves his hand in between us. His fingers find my soaked folds. He pushes one, then two fingers inside of me, and my body bows against his.

“You’re not ready.”

“Need you.”

I grip his heavy cock in my hand and stroke it, pulling it toward me. He moves his hand and lets me use him to spread my juices around. We both pant with desire. My hips gyrate, and I grind against his dick until the tip dips inside.

He groans. “Mel, stop. Condom.”

One more grind, and he penetrates further.

“Shit. We can’t.”

“I’m on the pill,” I exhale.

He pulls out, panting hard. “Are you sure?”

I nod. “Yes. I’m clean.”

“Me too.”

We need to stop talking. I cradle his face and pull him into my lips. After a slow kiss, I say, “Just you and me.”

A groan comes from the back of his throat. He lifts my leg, and I wrap it over his hip, spreading me wide. He guides himself to my pussy, coating his dick with arousal. He pauses at my opening and checks with me one more time. With a surge of his hips, he buries himself inside me.

The sound from my mouth can’t be human. He fills every aching part of me. We both still as our bodies adjust to the incredible sensation. My muscles contract against him, stretching and drawing him in.

“Fuck, Mel. Don’t move or this will be over too soon. Give me a second.”

He strains to gain control, his eyes squeezing shut.

I shift my body, and he pushes in further. “Hunter, you need to move,” I plead.

He growls and pulls out to the tip. He leaves behind an empty ache. With a grunt, he thrusts, driving into my body. The friction and heat from his cock kindles a small wave of fire inside.

“You feel so amazing. I don’t know how long I can last.” He circles his hips, and drives deeper in slow pulses.

“Don’t hold back,” I urge. I wrap both of my legs around his lower back. “Please.”

My begging does the trick. He loses himself with wild abandon. Our bodies, slick with sweat, smack against each other as he bucks into me. My hands grab his ass and pull him into me with each slam. The fever of release breaks out over my entire body, my muscles quivering around him.

“Not yet.” He slows his pace.

A groan expresses my frustration. He enters me with slow deliberation.

“Look at me.”

My hooded eyes try to focus on him, but each jolt of my body makes it harder and harder to hold them open.

He drives with purpose, pounding into me in faster beats. “Right here. Stay with me.”

He holds my gaze as he fucks me hard. But my body’s not alone in reaching a climax. His eyes convey things that my heart already recognizes. Emotions swell like my pending orgasm, waiting to break. I say his name with awe as he builds me up and brings me to an unfamiliar crest.

“Now, beautiful.”

Wave after wave of unending pleasure washes over me. My heart throbs as hard. It can’t be this good. It’s never been this good. It’s only because of him. He’s ruined me, torn me down, only to build me back up into this phoenix that burns. That burns just for him.

He lifts his head from my chest where he collapsed. He moves a strand of soaked hair from my face.

“Mine,” he whispers.

“Yours,” I agree.

S
oft music plays
. The familiar tune invades my sleep and nudges me awake. My brain fights to recognize the song. It feels important.

The bed shifts, and a warm cloth on my skin wakes me up. Hunter wipes my thighs and between my legs with a warm, wet washcloth. He’s screwed me every which way, had his head between my legs, and fingered me to multiple climaxes. But the simple act of cleaning me goes down as the most intimate act of all.

“Hey,” I mutter. “How long have I been out?”

“About 20 minutes.” He finishes and disappears into the bathroom.

Damn. I passed out. That’s new. The song plays into the darkened room now that many of the candles are out. My brain registers the voices singing, and I sit up. “Wait. Is that us?”

He walks back in. “Yeah. Mac emailed the demo to me.” He joins me on the bed.

I nuzzle into him and listen to our voices blending in harmony. It sounds different than the video, more professional.

“Do I really sound like that?”

He kisses the top of my head. “Yes. You have an amazing talent.”

His compliment tugs on my heart. “No one has ever told me that.”

“What, not even your own parents? Didn’t they know you could sing?”

My body tenses at the mention of them. “No. My…the woman who gave birth to me usually told me to stop making so much noise.”

Hunter hugs me tighter. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you. You don’t have to say anything right now.”

I shrug and concentrate on the song. As it reaches its end, my body relaxes again.

“Can we hear it again?”

He chuckles. After he messes with his phone for a second, the song plays a little louder. On the second listen, the lyrics wrap themselves around me. By the third repeat, my body wraps around him. The song plays over and over into the night.

T
he light-filled
room wakes me from a deep, restful sleep. No doubt it’s only been a couple of hours since we’d stopped fucking each other. No, not fucking. Making love. My girl finally gets what’s happening between us. Instead of backing away from us, she embraced our connection and rode the wave. And me. My hand reaches out to find her and pull her close. Cold sheets wrinkle under my fingers. I sit up in an empty bed.

“Fucking hell. Mel!”

The door to the bathroom swings open. Mel pops her head out. “What?”

My heart rate drops by a thousand beats. She hasn’t run away and called things off. She’s here. The hope I’ve held at bay for days bursts through its cage and fills me up.

“Shit, I must’ve been out cold. I didn’t notice you got up.” My casual tone attempts to cover up my freak out.

“Yeah, right.” She opens the door wide so I can see the mess of stuff she’s laid out on the floor. “And you didn’t just lose your shit thinking I’d run for the hills, right?”

Damn. Busted.

“Well, if I had my way, I’d wake up next to you for as many mornings as possible.” Like, forever if you’d let me.

She gives me a sideways glance. “Uh-huh. Well, you can spoon me some other time. I promised Bee I’d help her with her car this morning.”

Standing up, I walk to the doorway. “I can help with that.”

Her eyes travel down my torso and land on my cock, amazingly erect after our night of sexing each other in bed. She licks her lips subconsciously before she continues fixing her hair.

“Yeah, well, we strong women like to rescue ourselves. We’re quite capable of calling for Triple A. I got her message this morning. I have to go pick her up. Then I promised her some food afterward.”

So much for morning sex. “Do you have to leave right now?”

She smirks as she applies mascara. “Down, boy. Plenty of time for more happy fun time a little later. Today’s my day off, remember?”

With the recording yesterday afternoon to our incredible night, her schedule slipped my mind. We’ve been looking forward to a full day together for days.

“And you have to go? Thought we were going to go down to the beach, walk the boardwalk, go to the movies, or stay in bed for the rest of the day?”

Watching her apply her dark lipstick stirs my cock from its semi-rigid state. She pouts as the color goes on, and rubs her lips together more than once until she’s satisfied. As far as I’m concerned, she needs no makeup to be beautiful, but that dark stain on her lips accentuates one of my favorite parts on her.

“You wouldn’t abandon one of the guys if they needed your help.”

“True.”

Finished, she throws her lipstick in a small bag, and gathers her things up, stuffing them in the bag she brought with her last night. She could leave her stuff here, but I better not offer that. Even though we connected last night, her tendencies to be present with me in the most intimate moment and changing her mind later makes me skittish.

“Besides,” she zips up her bag, “For some reason, I haven’t seen a whole lot of Bee for the last week or so. She said to me, and I quote, ‘Mel, tell Mr. Sexy Singer he can service himself for a few hours while I catch up with my bestie.’ I wouldn’t mess with her when she takes the tone that she did.”

A genuine laugh escapes me. I step into the room and walk up behind her. “Then you better not keep her waiting. Go have fun with your friend and come back as soon as you can.”

My cock presses into her ass. We look at each other in the mirror. She strokes my ego every time her eyes explore my body up and down, as if I’m her next meal.

“You know, there’s one thing you can do for me right now,” she says. Her smile crooks at the corner.

“What’s that?”

Her body shifts around, rubbing against me, and her arms maneuver me around until my ass balances against the cold counter. She licks her lips as she kneels down in front of me.

“Mess up my lipstick.”

H
oly Hell
, that girl knows what to do with her mouth. Every time I attempt to write some lyrics, the memory of her parting gift to me pops into my head. And last night. Not once in all my years since my dick discovered girls has one ever affected me the way Mel does. I can’t even remember being able to perform as many times as I did. Once she gets rolling, my girl can be insatiable. And I love that about her. One of the many things.

The doorbell rings, cutting through my pornish memories. I check my phone to see if she’s texted me to tell me she’s on her way. Since the guys are busy packing up Mac’s place, it can only mean that Bethany sent her back to me early.

“Tell me that you’re agreeing to my offer of being my sex slave for the day in trade for pizza,” I say, swinging the door open.

Gemma stands on my doorstep holding an open box of junk. Her eyes widen. “Well, that’s one hell of an offer, but I’d need more than pizza to lock it in.”

All good feelings left over from the morning seep out of me. The bottom drops out from under me, and a storm churns in the pit of my stomach. “Gemma. What the hell do you want?”

“Are you going to ask me in? This box isn’t exactly light.”

“You could leave the box and go.”

She pouts, her perfectly made up lips shining. “Rude much? Let me in, Hunt, so we can talk.”

I have no desire to experience one of her classic meltdowns outside for everyone to hear. A year of peaceful bliss without them makes my neighbors much happier with me.

“Fine. Come in.” I take the box from her, and she steps past me. Damn my Southern gentlemanly manners. “What’s in here anyway?”

She walks in as if it were her own place or like it was yesterday that she lived here with me. I set the box down on the table and crash on the couch, watching her through the pass through. Without asking, she heads to the kitchen and grabs a glass.

“Want some iced tea?”

“How do you know I have any?”

She gives me the look that tells me I’m the stupidest moron on the face of the planet. “You live with EJ. That means you’ve got iced tea that would rot out your teeth. I can water it down.”

“No. I don’t want any tea. Thanks for the stuff. Is there really anything else to say?”

She stops pouring the tea into her glass. “Jesus, Hunt. I’m not going to bite. I know that you’re moving soon, so I wanted to come over and wish you good luck.”

Walking into the living room, she sashays her hips back and forth, the same way she would when she wanted something that usually involved me taking off my clothes. Her drinks from the glass are a little too long. Every time she licks her lips slowly, words flash in front of my eyes.
Danger. Fraud. Cheater.

“You know, I wanted to come to your last concert at that place your friend owns.”

What a shitstorm that night could have been had she been there. Thank fuck for small miracles.

“I even asked EJ’s grandma about it when I ran into her beforehand.”

“And what did she tell you?” Oh, to have been a fly on the wall for Nana’s reaction.

“She let me know that, because of how things ended between you and me, perhaps seeing you that night might not have been the best idea. I thought about coming anyway.”

I’d bet good money that Nana told her to stay away in terms that would make most Southern women blush. Nana prefers using “bitch” to “hussy.” I love her.

“You can see a bit of the concert online. Fans posted to our social media pages, and Levi’s been editing videos together and uploading on YouTube.”

A look flashes across her face too fast for me to read it. “I’ve seen them. So who’s the girl in the video?”

Shit. Mel’s the last person I want involved. I don’t want to hurt any potential future with Mel by smearing the shit of my past all over it.

“She’s just a girl who got a thrill being on stage that night.”

“Mm-hmm. So that electric charge that practically jumps off the screen between you two. That anything serious?”

She’s baiting me. If I say yes, then she’ll focus on Mel. If I deflect, then she’ll know there’s more there.

“We’re seeing each other.” The truth is the easiest thing to deal with.

“Trying to get some local tail before you head out? I guess a guy should have his fun.”

The urge to pick her up and throw her out like trash ripples over me. But I pray that if she gets her chance to talk, she’ll leave faster than if I make a scene.

Gemma sits down on the opposite end of the couch to me and crosses her legs. I take a second to really look at her. It’s funny how we change with time. Where I once found her strong and sexy, she seems sallow and weak. She tries too hard to attract attention. Maybe she was always like this, and she sexed me stupid. Or maybe, I’ve got a much more appealing yardstick with which to measure her. Compared to Mel, Gemma’s a pale shadow. A wry laugh escapes me.

Gemma brightens. “What?”

I cover my mouth with my finger. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“Me, too.” She sets her glass down on the coffee table. “You know, you’re heading off to Nashville. I see no reason why you and I shouldn’t have some fun before you go.”

And there it is. The telltale sign of the social climber and the whole reason I woke up from my boyfriend haze and saw the truth about her. It’s not me she wants. It’s the successful country star she imagines me to be. I should have known that the contract would bring her greedy ass back.

I stand up and move out of her reach. “There’s every reason. Like we’re not together anymore, Gem.”

“Are you still holding shit against me after all this time?” A little of her good-little-Southern-girl charm slips. “Come on, Hunt. You know the boys would never have left you even if you had changed the name. And look at you now. Everyone’s gonna know Tailgate Down.”

“Try not to salivate when you say it, darling. It’s not like you have a claim on anything.”

She stands up to face me. “Oh, I don’t know. Seems to me that while we were together, I helped you write some of your lyrics.”

“The fuck you did.” My voice hides none of my contempt as it raises.

Gemma walks toward me like a cat ready to pounce. She runs her finger down my chest. “You sent me a couple of messages on Facebook. We talked back and forth. And then you finished the songs. I would say that’s contributing.”

“And I would say, talk to our lawyers.” My manners stop me from swatting her hand away.

She sneers. “Who needs lawyers these days. The online sites will eat it up if I make my claim to them. You know that the only truth that matters is the one that gets on social media first.”

Rage runs through my veins. My hands fist. “Were you always this much of a bitch?”

“I don’t know. What was that break up song you wrote and gained attention with after we ended things? ‘Wicked Witch’? My ass
The Wizard of Oz
was your inspiration. Add that song to my growing list as well.”

I point. “Get the fuck out of my house, Gemma.”

Instead of turning and running away from my growling voice, she presses her body into me. “You and me, we used to have a pretty good time after we fought. Care to see if that’s still true?” She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me.

Her mouth tastes like ash and dust. I purse my lips closed against her tongue and push her away. Fuck my manners.

“I’m not going to say it again. And if you even try to claim any of our songs, spread any lies about us, or try to claim that you and I are together…whatever you’re planning, I suggest you drop it.”

She laughs at me. “You never could see the bigger picture. Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ve got it right in front of me. As soon as y’all make it big, you can bet your ass you’ll be sending me some money.”

“Over my dead body.” EJ’s voice booms. “What the hell is going on here?”

Gemma’s eyes narrow. “Your lead singer and I were discussing terms.” She pats him on the shoulder as she brushes past him. “Good luck in Nashville.”

I shiver once she leaves the house. How in the hell did my dick ever prefer to be in her? How could it not sense the paradise that was coming its way in the form of Mel?

“What did the Wicked Bitch want?” EJ asks.

“I’m not sure. She returned some shit, although I’m tempted to burn everything inside that box. She tried to flirt with me. When that didn’t work, she threatened me. And the band.”

EJ starts digging through the box. “We’ll get to that in a second. First, answer me this. Angry fuck?”

“No.”

“Revenge fuck?”

“Hell no.”

“Pity fuck?” He pulls out a T-shirt and holds it up to see if it would fit him. “No? Then why in the hell did you let her into our place?”

Why did I? Sentimentality? Closure? No on both parts.

“I don’t know. Manners, I guess.” I run my fingers through my hair. “She could give the devil a run for his money.”

EJ sits down on the couch, grabs the glass off the coffee table, wipes the lipstick off, and takes a sip. He sets it back down. “Ugh, watered down. Anyway, man, that’s the least of your worries.”

“How is my ex-girlfriend threatening to come after us for royalties and claiming she helped write lyrics the least of my worries?”

EJ turns toward me. “Did you know that the door was wide open when I came in?”

Was it? When Gemma handed me the box and walked by me, her presence had freaked me out so much I must have forgotten to close it.

“So?”

“So…it’s not so much the open door as who I watched walk out of it before I parked the car.”

All the air in the room gets sucked out. “Oh shit. Please don’t tell me—”

“Yeah. Mel drove off right before I came in. You got troubles, brother.”