Rock Me

“Yeah.”

  While they hadn’t been speaking. He’d drawn it and then hidden it from his sight. Trying to exorcise her from his mind? She brought trembling fingers to her lips. “And…you didn’t have a picture of me for reference?”

  “This is how you looked at me once when I was still with Michelle, when I said something undoubtedly stupid I can’t even remember now. I just know the way you laughed at me stuck in my head and I couldn’t get it out. Your face is so clear in my mind, Candace, I could sketch it in my sleep.”

  “Please don’t hide this away anymore,” she said, hearing how tiny her voice sounded and hating it. Her eyes were burning.

  “I won’t. I haven’t been home since seeing you yesterday morning, and everything that’s happened in between… I’ll hang it over my bed, if you don’t have any problems with that. Initially I was going to paint it, but I think I like it just like this.”

  “It’s perfect. I don’t care if it’s in the bathroom. It needs to be on display.”

  He burst out laughing. “Come on, help me put it up. I hate trying to hang shit without someone there telling me if it’s straight or not.”

  What started as a playful endeavor ended with them on his bed in the quiet dark afterward, the moonlight falling across them in slats as it shone through the blinds. He stole her breath away, loving her so slowly and gently she was a quivering mess of helpless adoration for him. For every move he made, every breath he took as he was deep inside her body, she fell further. He was almost troublingly silent; the only sounds in the room were her sighs and moans and the sounds of their joining, the shuddering of his breath.

  “Brian,” she whispered, turning her face toward the window as he trailed his warm lips down her throat. Outside she could see the pale orb of the moon through the blinds, could hear the party still going on down below. His hand swept under the back of her knee, pulling her leg high on his hip so that he could go deeper in one long, slow thrust that left her gasping.

  “What is it, sunshine,” he whispered back.

  Tears leaked from her eyes, trickling down through her hair spread out on his pillow. “I’m so scared.”

  “Don’t be. I’m here. It’s all going to be okay. Don’t run away from me. Don’t shut me out.”

  “I’m scared because I’m losing myself and I can’t shut you out.”

  “That’s a good thing, sweetheart. That’s good. Oh, God, Candace…”

  Was it good that she was so stripped bare for him? He held more power to hurt her than anyone else in her life right now.

  His movements were becoming more disorganized, lost to passion, his breathing more ragged. She half-heartedly tried to fight the sensations building around his possession of her, not wanting to give him any more, needing to hang on to something of herself, but it was no use. The more she fought, the more she lost, until she was drowning with him in fierce, dark waves of ecstasy.

  He groaned and throbbed inside her, once, twice, buried so deep she could hardly breathe. Despite being sore and sensitive from the past couple of days, she couldn’t resist him, couldn’t deny him when he wanted her. Everything about this encounter had been tender and comforting, as if he realized she needed that from him right now. It had only gutted her all the more.

  “You feel so good,” he murmured, holding her close as she shivered through aftershocks. “Don’t be afraid anymore. We’re done with that.”

  Wrapping her arms tight around him, she buried her face in his shoulder, pressing against his warmth. “I feel safe with you, safe from everything except you. If I make one wrong move, I can lose this. Lose my shelter. This isn’t how I wanted to save myself.”

  He lifted his head, but she couldn’t see much of his expression. His hand was exquisitely gentle as it smoothed the hair back from her forehead. “I don’t know why you think you have to do everything with no help from anyone,” he said softly. “You have people who love you. Lean on us. All of us. You don’t have to be alone. You’re not.”

  “I’ve only ever leaned on someone, and look where it’s gotten me.”

  “Don’t let them destroy the trust you have. Don’t let them taint what you feel for me. I couldn’t stand that, for us to be so close to having it all, only to lose it because of them. You would only be letting them win.”

  Those might have been the magic words. Above all else, she couldn’t let them win, not this time. They’d won almost every battle so far in her life, and even the ones they’d lost, they still tortured her over. She’d fought way too hard for him to ever give up.

  For the second night in a row, she fell asleep in his arms, and she didn’t think she could ever go back to being alone in bed. When her mother’s harsh voice echoed in her dreams all night, he was there. When she heard his voice, saw his face in her mind, only to wake up to a split second’s terror that their time together had been nothing but a dream, he was there.

  When sunlight replaced the moonlight channeling into the room, and she figured she wasn’t going to wring another moment’s sleep from her feverish, overworked mind, she tunneled beneath the covers, intent on giving him a really good morning.

  Chapter Nineteen

  If only they could market an alarm clock like this.

  Brian was already in the middle of a fairly PG-rated dream about her, but it turned X-rated in a heartbeat the moment her warm tongue slid over his cock. His eyes flew open and he reached under the covers to grasp her hair, thanking God above she was really with him.

  She didn’t show him any mercy, getting him up and going down with none of the timidity she’d had the first time. His piercing didn’t even faze her. She took it all with a fervor that had his abdominal muscles contracting with the sudden rush of blood to his cock.

  She groaned as he swelled in her mouth, the vibrations of it skittering up his shaft. His head pressed back into the pillow as he lifted his hips, instinctively trying to push deeper, but she raised her head to evade him. Her hand wrapped around his base and stroked, using the moisture she’d already left to ease her motions, and he was in heaven.

  “Oh, God, Candace. Try to take it deeper, baby. Oh, shit.”

  She did, and he felt his tip graze the back of her throat. So hot, so wet, so fucking good. He tore at the covers desperately, needing to see her, needing to watch her swallow him down. Her gaze flickered up at him, fiery blue, and he nearly passed out from the eroticism of those sweet eyes looking at him with such ferocity. With a tenderness he didn’t know he possessed at this point, he stroked her face one time before collapsing onto the bed and losing himself in the heat of her lips wrapped around him, the suction, the sweetness.

  At some point he dimly heard his phone ring, but it wasn’t as if he could be bothered to deal with anything else at the moment. She had him pinned and helpless as a bird in the clutches of a hungry cat.

  The building pressure reached a fever pitch and welled up in his shaft. A torrent of curses fell from his lips. The tip of Candace’s tongue was a stiff little instrument of torment, pressing hard into the underside of his cock as her mouth rode the length, and he lost his last grip on control almost before he had time to warn her.

  She paid no heed, letting him erupt in her mouth as his every muscle pulled tight enough to rip away from the bone and he fisted both hands in her hair, careful not to shove her down. After the past two days, he should’ve been spent, but he kept finding more to give her, until she took the last and only reluctantly stilled her stroking hand.

  The way she pulled back and licked her lips then killed him. If he hadn’t been utterly annihilated, he’d have had her on her back in an instant.

  She crawled from the bed as he lay panting. He’d somehow managed to turn half sideways on the mattress, and he spent the next few minutes drifting and gathering his strength back, staring up at the sketch he’d done of her. When she came back and cleaned him up with a towel, he surprised her by grasping her and throwing her down, her thighs spread around his hips.

  “I love yo
u, baby,” he said, pinning her hands down. Her lips parted as his gaze traveled down to her naked breasts and caressed each one in turn. “I want to taste every inch of you.”

  Her words were little more than a whimper, and goddamn, did that ever turn him on. “Brian, I want that too, but I have my final and—”

  “Shh. I know. So I’ll taste every inch of you tonight. Right now, I’m going to taste those inches that make you cry out my name.”

  Sliding his hands up her thighs, he pushed them farther apart and moved down the length of her body, breathing warm air over her pussy before he let her feel the touch of his lips. Her muscles pulled taut under his hands and he tightened his grip on her in response, keeping her spread beautifully open the way he wanted. Her pink flesh glistened in the sunlight pouring into his room, and he kissed her there as deeply as he would her mouth, lips caressing, tongue gently swirling. When her hands flew down and scrabbled for something to grab, he released her thighs and laced his fingers through hers.

  “Ohhh, Brian…”

  She was getting close already, delectable pink flushing a deep rose. He dipped his tongue as far as it would go into her, seeking a taste of her tangy female essence. When she was as slick as he could get her, he raised up, seeing that the pretty blush had also stolen into her cheeks and splotched her chest. Releasing one of her hands, he slipped one finger inside her. Then another. She tossed her head and moaned. Blowing out a breath, he eased in a third, wiggling them deeper inside her and feeling her hand clamp down on his as her brow furrowed.

  Oh, fuck. She was so tight on his fingers he could hardly move them. But she was moving, barely rocking her hips, trying to help him go deeper. He leaned down, fluttering his tongue over her clit until she went liquid around him and he could ease through her better. His cock was aching for attention again, but this time was all about her.

  But, holy hell, when her fingers crept over her own breast and teased the nipple into a stiff peak, he almost broke that vow to himself. Something in his eyes as he watched her must have scared her, because the next time her gaze alighted on his, her own eyes widened and she drew a sharp intake of breath.

  “Come, baby, before I lose my mind and fuck you raw.” For his own sanity, he drew her between his teeth, sucking her clit with gentle pulls he wouldn’t stop until she exploded. She was so wet his fingers were coated with her juices, and the sudden, added rush of moisture as she moaned didn’t help his ragged mindset. Jesus Christ, she was hot, and she was his, only his. He’d never been one to get caught up in obsessing over a girl’s former lovers, but knowing he was the only one to go where he was right now…

  The only one to ever make her tighten up, shudder and sob. Her pussy rippled along his fingers and her thighs spread even wider, allowing him to plunder her depths. He took advantage, searching for the spot, hoping he could get deep enough with his fingers to find it. Abandoning one, he plunged back in and barely grazed the tiny rough patch among all her softness. Her hips wrenched off the bed. He manipulated it ruthlessly, sucked her hard, and she flew over the edge.

  The cries she emitted were musical, and he wished he could be everywhere at once because he’d love to drink them up, kiss her into a frenzy. Hell, he’d love to flip her over, haul her ass into the air, and fill her up. He could only stay right where he was, watching over her mound as her head tossed and her breasts heaved and her body formed a lovely arch. It was enough to make a motherfucker weep.

  The tension bled from her, and he knew she needed him to hold her, to still the tremors. He moved up, carefully settling his weight over her as he slid his arms under her. She wrapped him up in her embrace and sighed.

  “Was that good, baby?” he murmured, kissing her throat.

  “That was better than good. This is getting…out of control.”

  “In a good way, right?”

  “I hope so.”

  Troubled by her words, he chose not to reply. If they got into all that again, he might end up keeping her here all day trying to talk her down from the ledge. Only she had the power to pull herself back from it, to trust him. But he didn’t like how fucking helpless he felt standing there watching her teeter back and forth.

  While she showered, he put on coffee and turned on the TV and scrounged for something to make for breakfast. He wasn’t big on that particular meal; he usually woke up too late for it. But she must be starving, and the nearest grocery store was only right around the corner. He scribbled out a note to her and grabbed his keys and cell phone.

  Flipping the latter open, he saw that Starla had been the one to call him earlier. Weird. It wasn’t even ten yet. She’d left voicemail, which he called to check while strolling toward his truck in the mild spring morning.

  The voice on the message didn’t sound like his friend at all. It was halting, with a trembling edge of panic. “Brian. You need to come to Dermamania, now. Someone…someone tore the hell out of it.”

  Stopping dead in his tracks, he nearly dropped the phone. His blood froze up in his veins.

  How bad is it? How bad, Starla, fucking tell me now.

  “All the front windows are broken…it doesn’t look like anything was taken, they just trashed the place. Flat screens busted…oh, Brian, I want to cry. You’ve got to come now.”

  She hung up. His legs were already eating up the distance back into his apartment, where Candace had just stepped out of the shower wrapped in a big black towel. She met him with a big smile that melted soon as she got a good look at his face.

  “Someone has vandalized my goddamn parlor. I’ve got to go.”

  “I’m coming with you. Give me two minutes.”

  Unable to stand pacing around his apartment for fear he would vandalize something while he waited for her, he went outside where the most damage he could do was tear a few bushes out of the ground. Just as he was contemplating it, Candace ran out of his door and down the flight of steps, her hair damp and bouncing on her shoulders. Wordlessly, they climbed in his truck. It was a struggle not to lay rubber in the lot, and he managed not to run any red lights, though it was tough.

  Shit, shit, shit. It had to be Jameson Andrews. Only he hadn’t thought that little pussy had it in him to pull this off. Or even seek out thugs to do it for him.

  Then again, this was exactly the kind of chicken shit thing he would do. He couldn’t best Brian physically, so go after one of the things he loved the most.

  Beside him, Candace was sitting tense and upright, her fingers twisting her purse strap in her lap. He wondered if she was having the same thoughts he was.

  “Could your brother have done this?” he asked harshly.

  Her head turned toward him. He could see her in his peripheral vision. “I don’t know, Brian.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know? You know him better than I do. Is he capable of this, or not?”

  Her arms raised, and looking at her, he saw she was rubbing her temples. “James has a bad temper. Yes, I can see him doing something like this. It doesn’t mean he did.”

  “Yeah? Well whoever did it didn’t steal anything. They weren’t after money or equipment. They trashed the shit out of the place. It was done out of rage.”

  She made a quiet sound. She was crying. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Jesus fu— It’s not your fault. But I do hope to hell you won’t miss him too much, because I’m going to kill that slimy little shit when I get my hands on him.”

  The instant he turned onto his beloved parlor’s street, he saw the police cars. Sickness churned in his gut. It was like approaching a car wreck, fully aware he was about to see something he didn’t want to see, but he couldn’t look away regardless. Candace’s hands went to her mouth.

  “Oh, God,” he muttered, pulling up to the curb and all but tumbling out of the truck. There was nothing but a gaping maw where the windows used to be, surrounded by yellow caution tape. Starla and Janelle were outside in the parking lot, talking to police officers. They were both crying. More officers were
milling about inside the building, where it looked as if someone had turned loose a tornado and let it wreak havoc.

  His vision went far beyond crimson. It went a hot, hellish black. This wasn’t real, this couldn’t be fucking happening…

  Gentle hands slid over his shoulders, but he stepped away from them. Starla had seen him and was running toward him, her cowboy boots clattering on the asphalt. He caught her before she could slam into him, holding her by the arms.

  “Do they know anything?”

  She shook her head, agitating more tears into spilling. “They’re going to the other businesses around here, asking questions, but they don’t have any leads yet. They want to talk to you.”

  Of course no one had seen anything. Their town was the type to put out the lights and pull up the covers by eleven or so, and after the businesses were closed, there was really no reason for anyone to travel this street unless they were up to no good.

  He needed to call Evan.

  The police officers were efficient and took down his information, and he was more than happy to tell them about all the new enemies he’d made. But unless the cops could hand him Andrews’s ass on a silver platter at this very moment, they were pretty much useless in his eyes. And that wasn’t happening. Not only had no one seen anything, but so many people came and went through the parlor all day that fingerprinting was pretty much out of the question.

  He felt so fucking powerless, his mind such a muddle, he might as well have been an invalid. Once the cops were done with him, all he could do was stand and stare into what was left of his sanctuary, where glass now covered the floor, his art and posters were ripped off the walls, chairs strewn, padded tables ripped and gutted. It looked like his insides felt. Candace stood with the girls, giving him his space.

  And why wouldn’t she? He’d just thrown her hands off him as if she’d done this or something. As if she were the one responsible, even after he’d told her she wasn’t.

  “Brian.”

  He turned around at the familiar voice, one he usually wasn’t too fond of hearing but the very one he wanted right now. It was all he could do not to pitch himself into his brother’s arms as Evan walked up beside him, his features grim as he took in the damage. “I heard it on the scanner this morning. I’m sorry, man.”