Leaving Amarillo(37)

“You know what I love about music, Gavin?” I say softly, leaning back slightly on my elbows.

He says nothing, but his eyes meet mine and I force myself not to shrink away from the fevered stare engulfing me.

“I love that you can’t pin it down, can’t control it. Music is free. It’s unpredictable and alive. You can’t own it or buy it or sell it. Not really. No matter how hard people try. It belongs to no one.”

“Like you,” he says evenly.

“Like us,” I answer. “No one can control us, Gavin. No one can stop us if this is what we want. If you want to eat ice cream off my body, then you damn well should. Life is short. Ask my parents.”

The mention of my parents breaks his impenetrable barrier and his mouth gapes open when I lie down on the bed. He stands above me and I see the fleeting thoughts of retreat flickering in his eyes.

So I let my head fall back as I close my eyes, and I wait.

Ice-cold ribbons scorch a pattern onto my bare flesh when he lets the mostly melted ice cream drizzle onto my stomach. My back arches off the bed and I allow a tiny shocked whimper to escape my lips. When my eyes fly open I see him standing above me, watching me writhe beneath him.

“Gavin.”

“Cold, Bluebird?”

He kneels between my thighs and I take advantage of the opportunity to drive my fingers through his hair. His tongue is liquid fire lapping up his—well, technically my—dessert as I shiver beneath him. Pressing his warm palms against my hips, a tortured moan escapes the back of his throat. My eyes want to slam shut but I wrench them open so that I can watch Gavin’s beautiful body moving between mine. His hands slide lower, his fingers pressing hard into my thighs as if he’s holding me down, denting deeper with each stroke of his tongue.

All I can think is, Gavin’s mouth is on my stomach. Where do we even go from here?

Before I can ask, he unbuttons my jeans and uses a hand to drag them down my hips. As if he can’t wait the two seconds it would take to remove them completely, he presses his lips to the fabric of my panties.

A moan that sounds like pleasure mixed with an attempt at his name breaks free. I’ve never had anyone’s mouth there.

“Want me to stop?” His eyes lift to mine and I shake my head. No.

The ache between my legs becomes more insistent, turning to a steady pulsating throb as he removes my panties and drops them to the floor with my jeans. My body jerks forward when his tongue parts my folded flesh. Gavin growls against my sensitive skin and I gasp.

“You taste even better than ice cream, Bluebird.” Scorching circles of wet heat blank my mind of any fears or insecurities of concerns I might have had about him being so intimately acquainted with my body. By the time he dips his tongue into my opening all I want is more. All I can think about is how to get him closer, deeper.

I’m thrusting against his mouth and moaning in pleasure when I feel it. The pressure has reached its peak and I need him inside. Now.

“Gavin. Oh,” I bite out when he pulls my clit into his mouth. The room spins around us and I can’t slow it down.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I need you. I need you inside me,” I tell him breathlessly. “Please.”

“Soon,” he promises, sliding a finger into my slick opening.

“Oh God. Oh my God. Don’t stop.” I’m both desperate and demanding. When he thrusts another finger into me I lose my grip on my sanity and am flung over the edge of oblivion.

I can hear myself crying out but my words are unintelligible.

I’m covered in a thin sheen of perspiration and writhing on the bed like a woman possessed as Gavin continues to lick me down from my orgasm.

Slowly I become aware of the parts of my body I’d assumed had drifted into outer space. Gavin pulls back from the apex of my thighs and I see it, the rabid lust and determination. This is it. He’s going to make love to me—or maybe something much more intense that I have no name for—right now.

A sudden persistent knock peppers the door to my room like gunshots to my chest. “Dixie? You in there? Open up.”

My brother’s voice effectively murders the moment and threatens to give me a heart attack. Gavin mutters a curse under his breath and I sit up.

Using the blanket on the bed to wipe the sticky ice cream remnants from my stomach, I pull my shirt back over my head and try not to die while yanking my jeans up my legs.

“Maybe you should, um, hide?” Panic scatters my thoughts around the room and I can’t seem to grab hold of a single one that tells me what to do next.

“I don’t hide. Not even from Dallas.” Gavin stands and strides confidently toward the door. How he’s so calm is beyond me. I keep forgetting to breathe and my lungs are exceptionally pissed about it.

“What are we going to—”

“We’re just hanging out. Eating ice cream. I think he can handle it.”

Yeah, but I can’t seem to. Eating ice cream now has a whole new blush-inducing meaning.

“Okay.” I nod and try to arrange myself casually on my bed, folding my legs beneath me. My entire body pulsates as if my heart had quadrupled in size and is pounding so hard it’s reverberating through my core.

I nearly fall over snatching the television remote and clicking the on button before Dallas walks in. The preview channel shouts that for 19.95 we can subscribe to the adult movie channel for a full twenty-four hours. I’m changing it as quickly as I can, barely landing on a country music video channel, when my brother charges into the room.