Page 90 of Rockstars, Babies & Happily Ever Afters: Vol. 1

The sadness in her voice made him kneel at her side. “They were idiots. Completely. They just didn’t know what to make of you because you’re different and special.” When she didn’t respond, he started humming the melody to a song he knew she’d listened to a million times.

Her lips quivered into a smile. “You’re singing Taylor Swift to me?”

“She got it right. People do throw rocks at things that shine. And you do, baby. You always shined brighter than all the rest.” He skimmed a hand down her hair and nodded to the tree. “Look closer.”

“At what?”

“Just look.”

On hands and knees, she crept up to the tree, eyeing it up and down. Then she gasped and traced her fingers over the bark. “You carved our names into it. When?”

“Long, long time ago.”

He wished he’d thought to bring his acoustic. Not only did he feel naked without it, this moment seemed to be crying out for more music than his rusty humming skills could provide. They’d sat under this tree and played guitar together so many times, riffing on cover songs or on new ones they’d created individually. Eventually they’d started working on joint songs.

She stroked her thumb over the crude heart with their initials dug into the bark and glanced at him over her shoulder. “How did I miss it? I sat right here every day.”

“You weren’t ready to see it. And I probably wasn’t ready for you to either.” He smiled. “Unrequited love is practically a high school staple. You can’t mess with tradition.”

“Says you. I say it wasn’t unrequited, and you should’ve spelled it out to me back then. I’ve never been good with subtext.”

“Yeah, I’ve kinda come to realize that. So now I tend to make bolder moves when it comes to you.” He sat against the tree, tipping his head back to study the canopy of leaves above them. Narrow shafts of sunlight trickled through, but they were mostly sheltered in this shady section of the campus, especially now that school had let out for the summer and summer classes hadn’t yet begun.

He spread his legs and patted the ground between them. “C’mere.”

She tilted her head. “Mr. Duffy, is that your sex voice I hear?”

“I don’t have a sex voice.” Did he? Well, maybe. He wasn’t going to worry about it now. “Come on over here already. I have an ache I need to deal with.”

One of her wispy dark brows rose. “That’s a new kind of persuasion. I haven’t heard that line since I was sixteen and lying in the backseat of Harvey Farrell’s Chevy.” She coughed at his pointed look. “Um, coming, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you will be.” Once she’d settled into his arms, he cupped her breasts. They were always a wonder of the world, but now that she was pregnant, they were positively magnificent. She made a sexy startled noise and her nipples hardened under his hands. “How do you feel about getting off right here?” he murmured into her ear.

“I’m okay with it.”

He had to laugh. “Me too.” He slid a hand down to the button and zipper of her jean shorts, opening them up to find her bare underneath. It was his turn to make a noise, something on the verge of a growl. “Christ, woman, if I’d known you were naked under here, I’d’ve had my mouth on you in the car.”

“Sorry. Next time I’ll do a panties status check,” she said breathlessly, reaching back to stroke his cock trapped in unforgiving denim. “I’d love to have my mouth on you too, but this kind of isn’t the place.” She peered up at the myriad window panes of glass reflecting the sun. “Anyone could be out here taking pictures of us for the Daily Gawker or worse.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe we were followed. Maybe a fan is somewhere watching.” He slipped his hand into the vee of her shorts and parted her soft, wet folds with his middle finger. “I should definitely stop,” he added, circling her responsive clit. One touch and she was already straining, her hips lifting to demand more. “In one more minute.”

“Fuck a minute. This is gonna take thirty seconds.” She shifted her head and caught his mouth with hers. Their tongues slicked together and teeth collided and it didn’t make one iota of difference that there was no finesse to the kiss. There was just heat and need andthem, in this spot where they’d found yet another way to connect so many years ago.

“Well, I’ll be. I’d say my eyes are playing tricks on me but Jasmine Edwards and Grayson Duffy, it really is you.”

Jazz shut her eyes and groaned into his mouth. The timing could not have been worse.

Or better, he decided once his girl pulled back and looked up at the smiling face of their high school history teacher, Mrs. Knolls. Jazz would so not want to come at this particular juncture, but he already had her soaked pussy clenching around his finger, so no way in hell was he giving it up.

Besides, he could do all he needed to with one finger. She could frigging time him.

“Mrs. Knolls,” he said, using his other hand to pull down Jazz’s summery top a bit more in an attempt to block their former teacher’s view. He rotated the finger inside Jazz slowly, just enough to make her swallow a gasp. “So surprised and pleased to see you here. We figured the campus would be empty this time of year.”

“Yes, definitely a surprise,” Jazz agreed, pushing down on her shirt in a way that was probably supposed to encourage him to stop fingering her but just drove him that much deeper. She choked out a laugh that sounded the opposite of relaxed. “What are you doing here?”

“We had an in-service day today, and I dallied cleaning up my classroom. It’s always so hard to leave the memories behind.” Mrs. Knolls brightened, obviously oblivious to Gray’s fingerwork between Jazz’s tightly clenched thighs. “So is that what brought you two here today? A trip down memory lane?”

“No, a trip down orgasm alley,” he mumbled in Jazz’s ear, though she laughed loudly enough that he wondered if she even heard him. Then she squeezed his finger, her walls fluttering, and he realized she knew exactly what she was doing.

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