Deep (Stage Dive, #4)(61)
“Hey.” Ben kneeled beside my chair, sweaty shirt slung over one thick shoulder. His smile was all for me. It melted my insides, turning me to mush. What terrible power he had over me. The man should be ashamed of himself.
“Hi.” I smiled. “Good workout?”
“Yeah, Dave even tagged along. It was fun.”
Like a dinner bell had been rung, Ev jumped to her feet. Pavlov’s dogs couldn’t have been better trained. “Which means my hot husband’s in the shower. Later guys.”
And she was gone.
“Um, yeah. Meeting adjourned,” Lena managed between kisses.
With a final evil-eyed look at my new boyfriend, Anne likewise got to her feet. “I should go see what mine’s up to. Leaving him alone for long periods of time is dangerous. See you all on the flight to New York.”
“Later.” I waved.
“Am I going to have to let your sister take a swing at me too?” Ben grumbled in a gravelly voice.
“She’ll come around.”
“Thought letting Mal have his shots sorted all of this out.”
“She worries about me.” I tucked his long fringe aside, reveling in the freedom to touch as I liked. Sweaty or not, I’d take him and then some. “Give it time.”
A scowl from the man.
“What? No.” Jimmy barked tersely from the other side of the lounge chair.
“Just a little one,” said Lena, stroking his face.
“I’m not growing a f*cking beard. They itch.”
“But—”
“Where the hell is this coming from, anyway?” Jimmy pierced me with a cranky look. “You been talking up beards or something?”
I gave him my best innocent face.
The broody lead singer shook his head. “You girls shouldn’t be talking sex, for f*ck’s sake. We’re all living on top of each other as it is.”
“Liz just happened to mention the enhanced benefits of oral,” said Lena, her face the picture of serenity. “You want me to be happy, don’t you?”
“I keep you plenty happy,” said Jim, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Of course you do, babe. I just thought you might want to think about growing one. You know, just to try something different.”
Smirk in place, Ben took up the cause. Sort of. “Takes a real man to grow a beard. You’re just not there yet, Jim. Don’t feel bad.”
“Go f*ck yourself, sunshine.” Jimmy hid a smile. “Both of you, out. I apparently have to prove my oral prowess to my girl, yet again.”
“Sorry. My bad,” said Lena, looking not the least bit sorry.
Ben snickered, rising to his feet, drawing me up by my hand on the way. Holding hands was nice. What was especially nice was how he didn’t let go. Out we went, the suite’s door locked soundly behind us.
“What’ve you been saying?” he asked, heading toward our own room. “Thought sex shit was private.”
“Sorry. Girl talk. I got carried away.”
“Hmm.” His brows became one unhappy line.
“Are you really upset?” I asked, more than a smidgen worried. Relationships were so tricky. Me and my mouth needed to take more care and do no expounding on him or his facial hair’s sexy-times goodness.
“Nuh. Worth it to see the pissed off look on Jim’s face.” He chuckled.
“Oh good.”
“We’ve got two hours before the flight,” he said, dark eyes looking me over. “Plenty of time for some serious slow.”
My pulse took up residence between my thighs. The man had my *’s number and he used it with zero hesitation. Boyfriend-wise he was all over the sex, and I have to say, I really did respect him for that.
“Figure we’ve got some more getting to know each other to do,” he said.
“You do, huh?”
He swiped the key through the lock, pushing open the door. “I gave you a hand job last night and my mouth this morning. If slow means we’re doing no penetration for a while, then sweetheart, I need you to take mercy on me. I’m in desperate need of your fist wrapped around my cock.”
“I’d like that.”
“Trust me, I’ve been thinking about it all day. You sitting naked on my lap, jerking me off while I play with your gorgeous, sensitive tits. Bet I can make you come just from that. What do you say we do some experimenting and find out?”
My body buzzed, my breathing speeding. I swear I nearly came just from listening to him talking dirty. The man had hidden talents. “Okay.”
“That’s my girl. Who knows, maybe you could even write a paper on it.”
I burst out laughing. “I don’t know about that.”
He grinned down at me, already lifting my oversize T-shirt off over my head.
“Your pants don’t fit?” he asked, inspecting the hairband looped through my jeans’ buttonhole. The sole means by which I could keep them up, since the zipper was completely out. And these were my loose low-cuts.
“Not much fits since I popped.”
“You need some maternity gear like Lena. Jim said she found some real cute shit,” he said. “You’re spilling out of the bra too. Not that I don’t like the look, but that can’t be good.”