For a moment, she lay there wrapped in him. She curled up against him, the effects of her orgasm still lingering.
“You made love to me.” She rubbed her fingers along his.
“I guess I did.”
She laughed. “I’m softening your edges, biker boy.”
He snuggled her closer and kissed her shoulder. “I guess that’s okay as long as you don’t tell anyone.”
She closed her eyes. “Are you kidding? I’m going to tell the world.”
* * * *
Mason woke from a short nap with Addison in his arms and it felt too fucking good. He squeezed her a little tighter than necessary before pressing a kiss to her lips. Even with all the bullshit that had happened, she still chose to be with him. He definitely couldn’t fuck that up.
He groaned and moved his arm from beneath her. It took all he had not to wake her and fuck her again. She looked so damn peaceful and he didn’t want to disturb her.
“God, I am going soft.” He laughed.
“What are you talking about?” Addison rolled over and smiled at him.
He kissed her. “Nothing.”
“Are you still thinking about your damned bike?”
He’d actually forgotten about it. “No. Thanks for reminding me.”
She laughed and shifted so that her chin rested against his chest. “I know something that will take your mind off it. Work. I need to figure out what colour to paint my living room and then I need you to paint it for me.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “All you do is make me work for you.”
She sat up and met his eyes. “Are you seriously complaining?”
He took in her breasts and shrugged. “It’d be nice if I had some incentive to go to work.”
She stared at him, hands flat across her hips. “You’ll be with me. Incentive enough.”
She stood and went to the bathroom. He laid there a moment thinking about her house. The majority of the big stuff was done. The hole in the roof had been patched and the siding had been redone. Inside was a mess. Not only did they have painting to do, but he had to pick out new appliances, a couch and new picture frames for her photos. He rubbed a hand over his face and got up to follow her
“True.” He came up behind her and kissed her shoulder as he cupped her breasts. “But being with you clothed is completely different than being with you naked.”
“We’ve already had sex.” She tilted her head back, giving him access to her neck. He pressed light kisses there while he continued to caress her soft body.
He loved the way her eyes lit up when he touched her. Addison smiled, staring at him in the mirror as he reached down to cup her pussy.
“You know, I could redo the conditions of your employment. No sex until my house is painted.”
He nipped her ear as his fingers slid through her wet folds. “Why the hell would you want to do that?”
“To keep your mind focused.” She turned in his arms. “Plus, I have a feeling that if you got your way, we’d never leave this house.”
He smiled at her. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Shower, then work.” She kissed him. “And lots of sex afterward.”
He pouted. “My bike got scratched up. I’m wounded. I need some love from a beautiful woman.”
She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You know I love you.” She kissed his pout away. “I might give you extra special privileges tonight, though. All the loving you could want.”
He grinned. “I have club business to deal with tonight.”
“You can’t stay at home?”
He laughed, stroking his hand along her back. “I’ll figure something out. Jack is vice president for a reason after all, right? It’d be good for him to get some experience running the club. Let all the members bug his ass for once.”
She grinned. “You’re trouble, Mason Vaughn. Nothing but trouble.”
“Yeah, but I’m the best kind, baby. The best fucking kind you’ll ever meet.”
He went to the shower and turned on the water. He loved the smile on her face. She looked happy and he liked to think he had a small part in that. She moved away from the counter and stepped under the water with him. Her arms came around him as she pressed her face to his chest.
“Of all the men for me to fall for, I had to pick a horny biker.” She kissed his chest and pulled away. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you fuck me six ways to Sunday if you paint my living room.”
He laughed and brushed her hair from her face. Addison made him want to forget about the rest of the world. He usually did when he was with her. The damage to his bike hurt, but Addison turned his attention on everything else that mattered. He gripped her cheeks. He didn’t know what he’d done to get her, but he damn well didn’t want to screw it up. Mason kissed her, backing her up against the shower wall.
“Deal. You know, I promised you a massage this morning.” He nipped her lip. “I forgot to hold up my end of the bargain.”
Addison smiled. “You’ll give me a massage?”
He was getting soft. He could see the humour in her eyes and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take his statements back or confidently go through with it. He kissed her, instead of responding. She didn’t need to remind him of how mushy he sounded. He could almost imagine Jack’s voice saying he was hypnotized by pussy.
“I always keep my promises.” He brushed his lips along her temple. “Truth is, I just want an excuse to have my hands all over your naked body.”
“Like you really need an excuse.” When she pulled back, she met his eyes. “Since you’re being nice to me for once, and I’m requiring you to work a great deal for me, maybe I will be a little nicer and give you some incentive.” She pushed at his chest lightly, and dropped to her knees. “But when I’m through, you work and don’t complain. That is the deal to our arrangement.”
Mason laughed, though it was cut off shortly by her lips surrounding his cock. He leant forward with his hand on the stall wall as he watched her. If this was the life he could expect with Addison, the extreme downs didn’t outweigh the extreme ups. They had their problems, but they’d worked it out. He’d make sure they would always work it out too.
“And the massage?”
She withdrew and wrapped her hand around his cock. “Save it for when you screw up and I’m pissed off at you.” She pumped him. “I get a stress-relieving massage, and you get to feel me up. It’s win-win.”
Her mouth returned to his cock and Mason groaned. He didn’t know how long it’d take him to screw it up, but he assumed it wouldn’t be too long. They had that tension in their relationship, but they also shared the desire to make up just as quick. Yes, the make-up part was the best. He wondered if Addison picked fights just so they could make up.
“You’re bad, Addy.” He tangled his fingers in her hair.
“I learned from the best.” She fisted his cock in her hand as she stared up at him. He laughed and leant back against the wall.
Yeah, life with Addison was going to be fun. Starting from this very moment and moving on.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Dark Fever: It’s Been Awhile
Lexie Davis
Excerpt
Chapter One
The blonde girl standing in the corner of the bar licked her lips drawing Ben Hawkin’s attention to her lush figure. In the back of his mind, he knew black satin could kill a man, especially when nothing was underneath.
Ben sipped a beer with his band mates at Smokey’s Pub. They’d been touring non-stop for thirteen months and it was time to relax a little. He needed a little R and R, and soon after their last show on the road, he’d get his wish.
“I’ve got the schedule. Looks like we’re going back home,” David Parker, the band’s manager, announced. “If you need tickets for family let me know by tomorrow. Otherwise I’m not sure I’ll even be able to gain access to the sold-out concert at the town’s community centre. Looks like you’re playing on the old football field for the whole town.”
Ben couldn’t stifle the groan that escaped from his lips. Tyler, Texas was the last place on earth—minus the polar ice cap—that he’d ever want to play with Darkfever, their band. The small Podunk town held one supermarket, one shopping centre, and three restaurants. The founding fathers’ statues sat right in the middle downtown. With a population of just above two thousand, everyone knew everyone and the place didn’t offer much in the dating department.
Tyler was a hole in the wall.
“I take it you aren’t too thrilled,” David commented. He’d met the band in their post-Tyler days when they were nobodies in New York looking to make it big. He didn’t know the past of the small town or the people it held.
“Hawkins will be fine,” Taye Daniels, the bands bass player, announced. He slapped Ben on the back with a smile. “He just left one hot piece of ass back home—pretty pissed, I might add—and he’s a little rattled about seeing her again.”
Marah.
Memories of her flooded Ben’s mind before he could stop them. Her sweet lips, her bubblegum tongue, her perfect body—all of which he had plenty of experience tasting and loving. She’d drifted into his mind from time to time, but she wasn’t the main reason he didn’t want to go back to Tyler. His parents had claimed that category all for themselves.
“Don’t talk about Marah that way.” He punched Taye’s shoulder, before sipping at the beer he no longer wanted. Thoughts of his parents always took his appetite.
“Okay. Care to tell me what’s going on then?” David sipped at his vodka tonic as he waited for Ben to explain the situation.
“It’s nothing. Marah and I are over and have been for a long time.”
“It’s his parents,” Sin said, turning all heads at the table his way. “That’s why he doesn’t want to go back.”
“Shut up, Sin,” Ben said through clenched teeth. “It’s nobody’s business.”
He and Sin Cannon were as close as two friends could be without being brothers. Neither one had siblings, so the troubled childhoods they’d both experienced allowed them to have something in common. Through football and girls, they’d remained best of friends, sharing their pasts only once with each other. It had been a weak moment for both. Soon after, they’d hopped on a bus heading for the Dallas-Fort Worth International airport and never looked back.
The four men shut their mouths, tension so thick it hung like a curtain between them. Ben’s stepfather Bobby Wilson and mother Veronica weren’t a topic up for discussion under any circumstances. Especially when the conversation involved Ben. They were dead to him as far as he was concerned.
“Okay, calm down, boys,” David said, tipping back his glass to finish it off. “How many free tickets am I getting you?”
The guys named off their respective amounts then looked over at Ben expecting his answer. “None.”
“You should invite Marah,” Midas Cooper, Darkfever’s vocalist chimed in. “From what I hear, she’s working for some hotshot paper in Houston. No doubt in my mind she’ll be there to cover the story, as will any other major paper and television crew in the area. The two of you could have a little reunion.”
Ben smiled, “Funny.”
“Well, if she’s a reporter, she automatically gets in free,” David replied, looking more confused. “Do you have any others you want to grant access to?”
In the ten years Ben had been gone, he hadn’t made one friend outside the band. He’d slept with countless women, but they hadn’t been more than a good fuck—a simple release for the tension that always seemed to dwell inside him. Band groupies were willing to do anything for him.
It amazed him how the life of fortune and fame had turned out to be vastly different than he’d ever thought. He had money and nice things but did that really make his life the kind of life he really wanted?
Sure as a kid coming from nothing, he’d thought money would solve his problems. Generally it did, but it could run out, and then where would he be? Marah had said something to him, their last night together when she’d pleaded with him to stay with her instead of running off with Darkfever.
“What’s going to happen when you make it?” she’d asked. “You’ve planned so much of your life on ’what if I make it‘. I’m saying you will. You’ll become one of those sex, drugs and rock-n-roll stars that’s so conceited they don’t know their ass from their face. Can you honestly say you’ll look back when you’re eighty and say you’ve lived the life you’ve really wanted?”
It hadn’t made much sense when he was eighteen, but now he understood what she’d meant. People in this business used and abused. His true friends were his band mates. They always had been. Women only wanted him for his dick or his wallet and he didn’t dare share anything other than that with them. Equally, he was to blame for his life being the way it was for that exact reason. He gave nothing and got nothing in return.
“Nope,” Ben finally responded. He had no one.
The men departed, each going home with a date they’d picked up at the Pub. For Ben, meaningless sex with some chick he wouldn’t remember in the morning was one way to deal with the most recent psychobabble going through his brain. Marah had always wanted to be a psychologist and had loved using him and his troubled past for her experiments. He needed to get her out of his head and off his mind.
He’d had a great life so far. He’d made something of himself. Who cared if he was closed off to the world? He had his music. That’s all that mattered.
He led the blonde chick back to his apartment, loving the praises she gave him for the luxurious items he’d prided himself for purchasing. His big screen, his monstrous stereo, his leather sofas and vast collection of DVD and CDs. He’d hired one of Hollywood’s most valued decorators to come in and paint the plain apartment. Blues and greys covered the walls, blending perfectly with the black furniture scheme the designer had chosen.