Page 13 of Crazy Love
The vibrations of the guitar zap through my body, contributing to my dizzying sense of arousal. We take solos, bounce off one another in a way Dane and I sometimes do, blending our individual melodies, and pitching rhythm against lead. With her, the outcome is richer, more vibrant somehow. The bass rumble behind my flashy top notes pure magic.
I fucking love the idea of her underneath me—and I’m not just talking about musically.
There’s no hiding how much she turns me on, so I stop even trying to. Let her think what she will. It’s not as if I’m the only one riding this particular thrill train. Her nipples have tightened to twin points that distort the line of her top. They’re like beacons. I want to drag my thumbs over them. Suck them. Fuck them, even though the later makes me think of Jessie and that damned song.
Actually, perverted tit fucker doesn’t seem such a bad title to be saddled with anymore. Not if the tits in question are Loveday’s.
God help me, I want to be inside of this woman so badly. I’m so hot for her my fingers are glued to the frets. All right, not literally superglued, I mean they’re moving at the speed of light, but I don’t think I could release my grip right now even if I wanted to.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking when you look at me like that,” she remarks. Even the soft lilt of her voice turns me on.
“Like what?”
She shakes her head because…chemistry.
“You’re an open book, Mr. Darke.”
“Read lots of hot books, do you?”
She cocks one brow. “I don’t need to be a literature major to know what’s going on in there,” she nods towards my head.
“Depends how dirty your own thoughts are.”
“Pretty fucking dirty.”
“Sounds like we’d get along.”
“I don’t think getting along is an option right now.”
“Then we’d best just keeping knocking heads.”
“I know what I’d like to do with your head.” She wets her lower lip with her tongue and then grazes her teeth over the moist surface.
Fuck! I’m stupidly horny, and I don’t care if I explode right now.
We spiral out of control together as we hit the crescendo of this musical outpouring and abruptly bring it to a close. We’re both breathless at the end. Loveday’s eyes are shining, the blue of them is almost electric.
“Fucking brilliant,” she gasps.
Damn right.
I raise my right hand and we slap palms together, but then instead of parting contact our fingers somehow interlock. I lean in, and at the same time so does she. Her lips meet mine. Fuck knows how that happens, but it does, and it’s addictive. A jolt of electricity runs straight through my spine connecting all my pleasure centres and making the hair across my body stand on end. What we’re doing isn’t just dangerous, it’s fucking insane. We’re going to unleash an absolute shit storm if another member of Bitch Slap or Paradise Kiss walks in right now. But neither of us pulls away.
She tastes so damn sweet that I’m hooked on her within seconds. Knox can keep his smokes. I’ve found my drug of choice, and there’s no tearing away from her. I refuse to give her up, even at the sound of guitar strings sliding against one another. She’s worth a scratch or two on my favourite instrument.
She’s the one to stop things, albeit only long enough for us to remove the wooden barriers between us so that we can truly get up close. Her fingers tangle in my hair, while my hands slide down her back and over her arse, pulling her tight against me, giving the monster in my pants some well-earned loving. He’s literally desperate to get out of the trap he’s wedged into and bury himself somewhere wet and warm.
“Are you always this easy, Mr. Darke?”
Cheek—because if I’m easy, then so is she.
“I think you’re mistaking me with my brother.”
“Not bloody likely given all I’ve heard about him from Jessie. In any case, I’m not sure he’d have been nearly as appreciative of my talents.”
“What talents are those?”
She purses her lips, then smiles and slides her tongue over her lower lip again. “My musical ones, obviously.” She looks me in the eyes, daring me to challenge her.
