Joy Ride (12 page)

She knew what he meant and a thrill of anticipation ran through her. But what he said chased itself around in her mind. She thought she had solid roots with Andrew but they turned out to be gray, until she discovered colors. She still had the same goals, but suddenly she had other options. Could she have them with Marc? Did she want to? The idea trickled through her like melted chocolate.

She laughed, slightly breathless. “Maybe.”

Marc pulled the edges of her pretty short-sleeved sweater upward, urging her to lift her arms so he could tug it over her head. His eyes darkened when they took in her breasts in the satin and lace bra she’d chosen to wear. He ran the tip of a finger over each plump swell, and her nipples tightened against the restraint of the fabric. He skimmed the same finger over the hard points, a hungry look etched on his face.

“I could just eat you up with a spoon.” The rusty sound of his voice sent shivers skating along her spin.

No one had ever said those words to her before or anything like them.

Is he going to do the same thing again with his mouth? Please? Please?

She stood there, breath hitching unevenly, as he lowered his head and closed his lips over one nipple, taking it in fabric and all. The heat of his mouth burned through her, igniting her blood and soaking her panties with the liquid of her arousal. His warms hands slid up the length of her arms, caressing her skin, coasting over her shoulders and down her back. He spent so much time on each nipple, Emma wasn’t sure she’d be able to remain standing, but at last he opened the clasp of her bra, slipped the straps down her arms, and dropped the garment on the counter.

He took a great deal of care removing her jeans and panties, pausing to lick the skin of her inner thighs and place kisses on her ankles, a place she’d never considered an erogenous zone before this.

She wanted him naked, too. Her heartbeat stuttered when he pulled off his T-shirt, boxers, and jeans. He was just as magnificent as she remembered, hard chest covered with the soft matte of dark hair arrowing down past the flat stomach to the very erect cock making her mouth water. His arms and legs were roped with sculpted muscles and dusted lightly with the same dark hair. A totally sensuous male.
Talk about eating someone up with a spoon
.

Giving her a definitely predatory smile, he reached in to turn on the shower, holding one hand under the spray. When he was satisfied with the temperature, he took her hand again.

“Come on, Music Lady. Time for another new experience for you.” He gave her earlobe a gentle nip. “One I promise you’ll love every minute of.”

Chapter Seven

Marc had to dig deep for his control. Having Music Lady with him again, naked, in his shower was more than he had hoped for. After Sunday’s incident, he wasn’t sure he’d see her again. He wasn’t sure if he should be pissed off she didn’t think musicians could clean up good or ecstatic because she was here in his house again. He decided ecstatic had a lot more going for it.

He let his eyes roam over her skin, so smooth beneath the water beading on it, then he threaded his fingers through her wet hair and took her mouth in a hungry kiss. God, she tasted so good. Her flavor so sweet and unique. Her lips lush and tempting. She opened for him at once and his tongue dove in, licking every surface, feasting on her like a starving man. Tonight she was a little bolder, thrusting her own tongue into his mouth, savoring him as he was doing to her.

His cock was so hard he was afraid if he bumped against something it would break off, and his balls ached with a fierce need. No woman had ever gotten to him the way this one did.

He lifted his head only when he needed to drag air into his oxygen-starved lungs and stared into her eyes. They were more blue than green, the shifting hazel a reflection of her mood. Blue for passion—his Music Lady had a passionate soul. He sensed a zest for life welling within her, and he wanted to tap into it if he could breach that final barrier she kept so firmly in place.

Reaching out with one hand, he grabbed the bottle of plain shower gel on the built-in shelf, squirted some into his palm, and worked it into a rich lather. Still holding her gaze, he began to smooth it into her skin, swirling the foam in a circular pattern. Her wonderful slender neck first. A stop at the hollow of her throat where her pulse beat rapidly. The line of her collarbone. Each arm, from shoulder to wrist then gently rubbing every finger.

He massaged each area slowly, feeling her muscles relax incrementally as the motion of his hands soothed her.

More gel, more lather.

He drew circles along the swell of her breasts and underneath the plump mounds. Around and around, just the lightest touch. She trembled as his hands went up the sides of her breasts to those puckered rosy nipples, pinching them lightly, rasping them with his soapy thumbs. Loving the pebbled texture of them.

And all the while she stood there, hands at her sides, her eyes never leaving his. So much emotion, he thought, he could drown in them.

Jesus, could I keep this up without losing it?

More gel, again, and more lather.

He knelt in front of her and began with her feet, applying the suds even to her toes, then her ankles and up the length of each slender leg. But when he got to her pussy he stopped, saving it for last.

“Turn around,” he told her, barely recognizing his own voice, and urged her with his hands.

He trailed his palms over the slope of her shoulders, the graceful line of her spine, touching each indentation until he reached the swell of her ass. He curved his hand over each cheek in turn, caressing it, cupping it. Tentatively, he drew one lather-covered finger down the length of the hot crevice, pausing only briefly to circle the tight puckered ring before moving on.

She tensed but didn’t pull away from him and little whimpers of pleasure burst from her mouth. Anal sex, to Marc, was the most personal joining of two people. The fact Music Lady reacted the way she did was a sign she trusted him with her body.

But not her name?

He brushed the thought away as quickly as it came. When the time was right she’d tell him. And he’d work hard to get there.

His hand drifted away from her ass to her waist.

Later. That’s for another time.

She was like a gentle flower just beginning to blossom. And he wanted her to be
his
blossom.
His
flower. To be a part of his life almost more than he craved his music. He was tired of the lonely nights, of the hours when he had no one to share his success or soften his failures. Even as little as he knew about her, there was something growing so tenuously between them. He was going to do whatever it took to nurture it. Just like in the songs he wrote when he hit the perfect combination of notes, when the magic was plucked out of the air with no rhyme or reason. His heart told him this woman could be the one for him.

Gently he turned her to face him again, brushing his mouth over hers and skating his tongue over her lips.

“God, you’re so special,” he murmured.

“Really?” Her lips moved against his as she leaned into him. “Special? You think so?”

“Oh, yeah. Trust me on that.” He continued to massage her shoulders with his soapy hands until she was loose and pliable beneath his touch. “Relax. I promised you’d enjoy this. Wasn’t I right?”

“Yes. You did. And you are.” Her voice was musical. Sensual. Her fingers resting on his hips sent sparks through him. As if he even needed them.

“And it’s going to get even better.”

He skimmed the swell of her breasts before dropping to his knees in front of her. Taking her hands, he placed them flat against the wall behind her and lifted one of her legs to rest on his shoulder. It brought her pussy directly to him at eye level, and the sight made his blood pump and his pulse beat harder. It was so pink and soft and covered with silky dark blonde curls. Inhaling her fragrance, he touched her clit with one soapy finger, then outlined the wet, glistening, plump lips.

Emma pressed herself back against the wall, and a low moan escaped from her mouth.

Marc traced a line along her folds, swirled soapy lather into her nest of curls, and brushed back and forth over her swollen nub before sliding first one and then two fingers inside her.

Oh, Jesus
.

She was so slick and wet, and the inner walls of her cunt pulsed around his touch. He wanted to fuck her right then and there, in the shower, with the warm water sluicing down over them, her hair wet and slicked back. But he couldn’t do her justice here. And his Music Lady wasn’t yet to where he could take her anywhere—in the shower, against the wall, on the dining room table. But soon. When she trusted him completely. When she realized it was a hell of a lot more than just sex.

She was moaning and whimpering, and he had to force himself to pull out of her tight grasp and stand up.

“My turn,” he said in a low voice.

Her eyes opened wide. “Yours?”

“Uh huh. Showering together is a two way street, babe. Hold out your hands.”

He poured gel into her palms and watched her work it into a rich lather. Almost tentatively, she reached up to his shoulders and began to spread the suds over his chest. She seemed fascinated by the matte of hair, rubbing it over and over. When her fingers found his flat nipples, they both sucked in a gasp.

“Do you like this?” She was watching his face as she brushed across pebbled flesh, and she scraped her nails across hard tips, as if mesmerized by the sight.

Like it? Was she kidding?

“Oh, yeah. You bet.” He had to curl his hands into fists to grab the edges of control.

For one fleeting moment, he wondered what kind of assholes she’d been with that the simple pleasures of making love were so unfamiliar to her. And he was eternally grateful she was discovering them with him.

Eventually she added more gel, worked up more lather and stroked the suds down the flat plane of his abdomen. When she reached his cock, her touch almost hesitant, he dug his nails into his palms to keep from grabbing her, lifting her up, and plunging into her. But he let her explore him, her small fingers so soft yet so strong on his throbbing shaft.

Her eyes locked with his as if searching for some sort of signal. She then slid her hand between his thighs to cup his balls, squeezing them gently. He couldn’t hold back the groan that rumbled from his throat or prevent his hips from thrusting forward at her. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting a myriad of sensations wash over him. When he opened them, Music Lady had a tiny, self-satisfied smile on her face, as if she’d just discovered a major secret.

And she had, damn it. She’d discovered how easily she could turn him on, and how badly he wanted her. When she knelt down and began to move her small hands up his legs, her fingers making circles on his skin, he was done. That was it. The shower was over.

“We need to get out of here,” he growled. “Right now.”

“But I’m just getting the hang of it.” She raised her eyes and gave him her beautiful smile.

“No kidding,” he rasped.

He pulled her under the wide spray with him and rinsed them both, then turned off the water and slid the glass door open. Lifting her out to stand on the bath mat, he grabbed a large towel from the rack and dried her thoroughly before using the towel on himself.

“Sit,” he said, urging her onto the little stool at the counter.

The hairdryer he’d used when getting dressed for the gig was still on the counter, plugged in. He dug out his brush and slowly and carefully dried her hair until it was a soft cloud falling around her shoulders. For him it was an exercise in self-restraint, teasing himself and knowing the prize was worth it.

“You make me feel so special,” she said in a low voice, closing her eyes.

“You are special. And I plan to show you every chance I get.”

He picked her up from the stool and carried her into the bedroom, pausing only long enough to draw back the covers before lowering her to the sheets. Lying beside her, he kissed her with a hunger threatening to consume her. He loved the silken feel of her lips, the wet warmth of her mouth, and the soft glide of her tongue against his. One hand molded to a breast, lightly pinching the nipple. He swallowed her gasp and pinched a little harder, her body arching up to his.

Dragging his lips away from hers with an effort, Marc took a long time worshiping her body, kissing every inch of her skin from the slender column of her neck to the slope of her breasts. He sucked and pulled on her nipples before moving his mouth down to the softness of her tummy, tracing the whorled flesh of her belly button with the tip of his tongue. He let one hand drift between her legs to find the heat of her pussy and gently rubbed the lips and the swollen button of her clit. Marc couldn’t remember the last time a woman had reached deep inside him, making him feel so connected to her.

As he was tasting and exploring her and she squirmed in pleasure beside him, one of her hands slipped between them and found his throbbing erection. When she gripped his hard cock he jerked in reflex, the sensation almost too much to bear. His hand tightened convulsively on her, the heel pressing against her mound while his fingers dipped into her slick wetness. Jesus, she could make him come undone with just one touch.

Sucking in his breath, he nudged her to turn over and began to trail kisses the length of her spine, one hand caressing the sleek curve of her ass until he reached the dimple there, and traced it with his tongue. Music Lady was whimpering small sounds of pleasure and pushing herself back against his hand and mouth. Suddenly, without warning, she rolled over and rose to her knees.

“I want to touch you, too,” she told him.

Emma could hardly believe she was here again with this man. He was so magnificent. She could look at him forever. He lay beneath her hand, his body humming with sexual tension as she kissed him and licked his nipples, then she trailed her tongue over his abdomen down to his groin. He was like a new toy to her, willing to let her explore him in a way none of the men she’d been with up until now had been open to.