Play (Stage Dive, #2)(59)

It went on and on until I fell limp against him, lost and found and everything in between.

Mal groaned, holding me down on his cock. He was growling something. It might have been my name, in which case I appreciated the sentiment. The minute I could, I’d be sure to tell him thanks.

I never wanted to move. Never ever. Or at least, not until the next round.

We sat slumped on the limousine’s backseat in silence. Sweat and body fluids glued our thighs and groins together. Every muscle in me trembled. Holy f*cking hell. That had been epic.

“You alive?” he asked after a while, brushing my hair back behind my ear.

I gazed up at him, slack jawed and f*ck drunk. Best feeling ever. “It was okay, I guess.”

Crap, my words were slurred. My tongue had turned thick and dumb.

“Yeah?” He didn’t bother to hold back the smile.

“I’m sure you tried your hardest.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

I kind of grunted at him in a completely ladylike manner, out of energy.

“Sweetie pie? Pumpkin? You screamed so loud my ears are still ringing. I can’t actually hear whatever bullshit you’re peddling right now. Tell me later after I get a couple of stitches put in my shoulder, okay?” He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest in the nicest way. “A biter and a screamer. And you seem like such a nice, quiet girl. I’m shocked.”

I pushed the neck of his shirt aside, inspecting his shoulder. “You’re not bleeding. There’ll be a bruise at the most.”

“I’ll wear it with pride.”

Damn, he smelled good. The limo should just keep circling the city until it ran out of gas so I could keep breathing him in. Sex and sweat and man.

“Did you still want to go to practice?” I asked, mostly being polite. The desire to keep him all to myself kept my arms around his neck in something close to a strangle hold. But if he wanted to go, I’d go. Orgasms tended to leave me in a pretty benevolent mood. “I could hang out, listen to you play again.”

“Fuck, no,” he said.

“Fuck, no?”

He snorted, his lips twisted like I was lacking in the mental department. “Home. Bed. Now.”

“You got it.” I grinned.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


We fell out of the limousine, still tugging our clothes into place. Things between my legs were sticky and swollen. Upon reflection, I don’t think I’d make a very cowgirl because my thigh muscles still hadn’t quite recovered from the ride. I really did need to get back into going to Pilates. A mild bit of muscle strain wasn’t wiping the stupid smile off my face, however. More practice was required and odds were, the way Mal kept putting his hands on me, he wouldn’t mind.

“There’s so many stars. Look how clear it is.” I let my head fall back, inspecting the heavens. Fresh from a great orgasm with Mal Ericson at my side, the world was a pretty f*cking awesome place.

Mal kissed my chin. He tucked a finger in the waistband of my skirt and towed me toward our apartment building’s front door. “C’mon, your shirt looks uncomfortable. You need to get it off.”

“But nature, it’s beautiful and stuff.”

“Your tits are beautiful and stuff. I’m more than willing to spend serious time looking at them. Will that do?”

“Yes.”

He laughed.

I fumbled the key in the door, clumsy in my haste. The lock turned, the door swinging open, slamming into the wall. Crap, what a noise. It echoed through the hall, up the stairs. We really would break the building before we were through. Mrs. Lucia was going to give us hell for being so loud. She lived on the first floor and considered herself the sheriff in these here parts. No one had the nerve to tell her otherwise. But if I had to, I’d pull up my big-girl panties and deal with Mrs. Lucia.

What I didn’t know was how to deal with the sight of Reece sitting on the stairs with a bunch of flowers in hand. They were every color of the rainbow. I stumbled to a halt, Mal beside me.

Reece bought me donuts now and then. A bottle of wine when we went out for my birthday or his. He didn’t bring me flowers. And he sure as hell didn’t sit on my stairs looking forlorn, a lock of hair hanging over his forehead.

“Reece …” I climbed the stairs toward him.

Mal stayed put, his hand slipping from my grasp.

The color had fallen out of Reece’s face. He looked as white as a blank piece of paper. My and Mal’s disheveled state couldn’t be interpreted too many different ways. Reece looked like a child who’d lost his favorite toy. I don’t think I’d fully appreciated the differences between Mal and him before now. But for all of his joking, Mal was in his head and heart a man. Reece was a boy. I’m not even sure I could explain the distinctions. They simply played in different ways.

“Anne.” Reece gave the flowers a perplexed look, like he wasn’t quite sure how they’d come to be in his possession. “Didn’t realize you’d have company. Sorry.”

I silently held my keys out to Mal. His mouth flatlined. He gave me a harsh little shake of the head and I shoved the keys at him. What the hell did he expect me to do? I couldn’t just leave Reece sitting on the f*cking stairs. Mal stared at me and I stared back, silently willing him to understand. God, this was basically my best friend.