Rockstars, Babies & Happily Ever Afters Page 14

  “Jesus, fuck.”

  She stood up, that mad wildness still burning in her eyes.

  He ripped out of the buttons along his cuffs and tossed his shirt on the wide tiles. He hauled her up, wrapping her long legs around his hips as he swung around and back into the villa.

  A few lights had been lit inside thanks to Anders, but he was absent. Thank fuck, because Simon wasn’t sure he would have cared if the guy was standing in the middle of the room.

  He crossed the huge space, only one thing in mind.

  The bed.

  And her sprawled out on it.

  He gripped her ass as he crawled over it and dumped her into the center.

  One of her hands was in his hair and the other on his back, scoring it with her nails. She was in full-on tigress mode and he had to catch up to her, for fuck’s sake. But his mouth was just fine. And he would use it.

  With the same precision she’d shown on him.

  The thud of her soft boots and his shoes were the only sounds in the room beyond their groans and muttered grunts of words that didn’t make sense.

  He inched down the bed and rolled up the short shirt she was wearing. Fucking layers.

  Always so layered up in black.

  Normally, he loved it. Enjoyed opening her up like his own personal present.

  Right now, everything was in the way.

  He needed her naked and his mouth on her soaked slit. Because he knew she was. Could feel it against his belly and chest as he moved lower. He didn’t even have the patience to get her out of the tights the proper way.

  He shoved his finger through one of the seams and ripped it wide open, dragging her panties to the side so he could finally get her taste on his tongue.

  She writhed under him and he lifted her to his mouth.

  She didn’t try to escape the pleasure. Sometimes he had to ease her into it, but not tonight. She headed straight for it and it made him run to keep up with her.

  And he chased that pleasure. Even when she broke under him the first time, he didn’t relent. He demanded more and when she curled up into a seated position, her arms over his back and her nails leaving a bloody trail in their wake—he didn’t stop.

  He never stopped.

  Her thighs quivered against his ears and he was pretty sure he was a step away from blacking out from oxygen deprivation, but he didn’t stop.

  His name was a hoarse scream before he finally slowed the stroke of his tongue around her clit. The soothing touch as much of a balm to his own overwrought system.

  He used his teeth to drag down the tattered remains of her tights. He glanced up at her. “Remember the last time I ripped your tights, Violin Girl?”

  Margo had her hands in her hair and her chest was rising and falling as her thighs fell open. “I’ve lost count of the tights you’ve ripped.”

  He nipped her inner thigh. “That’s true. How about the first time?”

  A flush raced up her chest and neck. “Oh.”

  He laughed and flipped her over. “Oh.” He kissed his way up her thighs to her lush ass and bit one cheek. “That chair. This ass.” He dragged his tongue down the crease to her swollen slit. He knelt behind her and gripped her hips so he could get her up on her knees. He lifted her and deposited her at the head of the bed. “This isn’t exactly the sturdy chair from the studio, but I think you can get the gist.” He stripped her out of her shirt and bra. “Hang onto that fucking headboard.”

  She threw a glance over her shoulder. “Enough with the orders and just fuck me.”

  His dick was definitely on board with that idea. He nudged her knees open wider and reached around her to grip the headboard for purchase. “As you wish.” With his other hand, he lined up his dick with her perfect pussy and slammed home.

  He dropped his forehead against her shoulder for a second at the sheer bliss of her tight body clasping his. He didn’t realize just how worked up he’d gotten by going down on her. Tunnel vision was definitely a thing.

  He snapped hips hips forward again and his goddamn molars clicked together as he powered into her. She arched away from the huge, sturdy headboard. Her dark chocolate hair teased his chest and flowed over his shoulders as he closed the gap between them.

  No space. Nothing but her skin and his own as she clasped him again and again in her warm body. He wrapped his arm around to cup her breast and tug at her nipple ring that matched his own.

  Hers were jeweled and the hit of pain from the diamonds curling under the tip of her nipple brought him back into focus. He didn’t want to come yet.

  Stretching it out was his only goal. He wanted her completely lost to him, completely out of her head.

  He released the headboard and plucked and rolled her other nipple until both of her full breasts overflowed his hands. All the while their thighs slapped and the wet heat between them was the only song they needed.

  She held onto the headboard with one hand and arched back against him, her other hand gripping his hair as she screamed out his name.

  He didn’t stop.

  Couldn’t stop.

  There was no way to slow the freight train of lust and love engulfing him for this woman.

  His thighs shook in reaction to the unrelenting pace until he had no choice but to let go.

  He came so hard the fucking room blurred and his ears rang. The bloom of her honeysuckle-drenched skin was the first thing he became aware of.

  The second was that somehow they’d melted down into the bed. His cheek was stuck to her back and their legs were a tangle in the wrecked bedsheets.

  Margo’s face was pressed into a pillow and her dark hair snaked down her golden back, the ends teasing his nose.

  Sweet fuck, he’d literally fucked them both into a coma.

  Then he grinned.

  “Is it wrong I can feel you smiling into my skin?” Margo’s voice was sleepy and muffled.

  Simon lowered to kiss her ass cheek before he inched up to curl around her spoon-style. “Nope. Not wrong at all.” He tucked his chin against her shoulder. “I’m pretty sure you tried to kill me.”

  “Me?” She peeked over her shoulder at him. “You’re not the one who has a new branding along your palm.” She held up her hand and sure enough, the carving in the headboard was dented into her skin.

  He pulled her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the heel of her hand. “I wish I could say I’m sorry. Unless, of course, it hurts. Then, yes, I’m very sorry.”

  She laughed. “No, just a little surprised to see it there.” She slid her arms over his, currently wrapped around her waist. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that.” She twisted in his embrace until they were facing each other. “How much I needed to feel close to you.”

  “I’m right here, babe.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m always right here.”

  Her eyes went shiny and a stray tear trailed over her cheek. “I know.”

  “Hey.” He brushed the trail of wetness away. “What’s this?”

  “Nothing.” She hid her face in his neck.

  “Come on, Margo. Don’t hide from me. I know something’s been bothering you. Is it your sister?”

  “No. Well, not just my sister.” She sniffled against his neck.

  “Then what?”

  “It’s stupid.”

  He hugged her tighter. “No, it’s not.” He tugged on her hair until she stopped hiding. “It’s not. I’m here for whatever you need.”

  She huffed out a sigh. “I feel so stupid and guilty. I can’t begin to know how Jules is feeling. Or Harper for that matter, but all I can keep thinking is…”

  He cupped her face. “What if it was me?”

  Relief washed over her face and her eyes filled again. “Oh my God, yes. I don’t know if I could handle losing you, Simon.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same kind of thoughts. My life was pretty fucking bleak before you, woman.” He kissed her hard and deep until she relaxed against him again. “Even those months a
fter we broke up, I was near crazy. I can’t imagine if I’d never see you again.”

  She nodded. “Me too.”

  “I hate to think about it, but how can you not? I think we’re all holding each other closer. It’s the only thing we can do to get through this.”

  He didn’t have a way to stop the morbid thoughts. They were plaguing him too. All he could do was be there for her. Facing their mortality had touched all of them a little differently.

  “The only thing I know is that I will never take you for granted.” He touched her cheek. “Definitely not after this. Each day is a gift. One that I hope to fuck I’m worthy of sharing with you.”

  “You are.” Her tears were coming in earnest now.

  A few years ago, he would have bolted from them. Tears were messy and hard to face. Not anymore.

  He held her and let her cry out the fear and pain. And he didn’t run or try to tell her to stop, because he was so damn glad she was sharing her feelings with him.

  When they finally passed and she fell asleep in his arms, he did nothing but hold her closer.

  Later, as the watery gray light of morning filled their room, he gathered her and the sheet into his arms and brought her back onto the patio.

  “Simon?”

  “Shhh.” He settled on the huge lounger with her in his lap.

  They didn’t say anything as the sun rose and the ocean waves welcomed them to a new day. A day that would require them to go back to their crazy life and the family who needed them.

  But they’d go back together. And they were definitely a little stronger.

  “Ready to go home?”

  Margo cupped his cheek. “Just a few minutes longer.”

  “You got it, Violin Girl.”

  If you missed the origin story of Margo and Simon, please check out Destroyed, Consumed, and Committed in our LOST IN OBLIVION series. You can find more details about them at RockerReads.com.

  Nick and Lila: Craved

  A Lost in Oblivion Extra

  The details of this bonus story come AFTER Raw Rhythm, Found in Oblivion #5. So, if you are not fully caught up with the Found in Oblivion series we are warning you now. SPOILERS!

  February 13th

  “I want to see my wife.”

  Donovan’s admin didn’t look up from whatever she was typing. “She’s in a meeting with Mr. Lewis. If you’ll take a seat—”

  “Look, I’ve been waiting half an hour already. I’m sure you didn’t even tell her I was here.”

  She flicked a glance at him and away as if he were no worthier of her attention than a gnat. “I most certainly did. She advised you to take a seat.”

  Nick didn’t growl, but it was a close thing. “Why do I doubt that?”

  Donovan’s admin kept typing away merrily, her keystrokes seeming to keep time with the jazz playing through unseen speakers. “Doubt as you wish. She hasn’t come to retrieve you, now has she?”

  They’d gone around and around this dance before. The woman hated him, not that he knew why. He was sweet as could be to her, except when she blocked him at every turn.

  Which was always.

  Normally, he avoided going through proper channels as much as possible. He was a known quantity at Ripper Records, so he could walk about freely even after recent tragic events had necessitated a security lockdown. But one place he could not intrude on without requesting access was Donovan’s private office in the tower building separate from Ripper’s main hive. Lila usually didn’t meet with him there, but whatever they were discussing must be primo secretive shit.

  His curiosity was piqued, but he was also annoyed. He was her husband. He wouldn’t interrupt her work if it wasn’t important.

  Still, it wasn’t that important, except to him. So he’d bided his time. And he would continue to, assuming he could be assured Li truly knew he was on the premises.

  With this chick? He had no such confidence.

  “Look, I’m leaving on a world tour in a couple days.”

  She sniffed at him and kept typing.

  “A mini world tour, granted, but it’s still overseas. Our first time abroad. Is it so much to ask for that I get to spend time with my wife prior to leaving?” He was begging, but in a manly, prideful way.

  More sniffing and typing. After a moment, she glanced up and pinned him with baleful brown eyes behind her rimless glasses. “I would suggest perhaps you either make an appointment ahead of time or perhaps, keep non-work business to non-work hours.”

  He clenched his jaw. “I sleep when she gets home. Lately, I’m up all night with—”

  “Yes, with your rockstar duties, I know. Very heroic of you.” She reached for a foil-wrapped packet. “Mint?” she asked pleasantly.

  He took it and popped it into his mouth to keep from growling again. “I’m up most nights with our daughter, thank you very much. Charlie is a fussy sleeper, not that you care. She’s still teething.”

  Her cries were absolutely pitiful, so he couldn’t do his best to ignore them as he had when she was a baby. Plus, now she could say “Daddy” and did often enough that Li had given up going to her when she fussed in the middle of the night.

  Donovan’s admin made a noise in her throat and continued typing.

  “Whatever.” He stalked back over to the chair he’d occupied and dug out his phone.

  Half an hour later, Li had still not appeared, and the admin had stepped away probably to make voodoo dolls. He’d watched her release the private elevator for Donovan’s floor from a button behind her desk enough times that he went right to the hidden panel, pushing the button and heading inside the elevator before she could come back and screech at him.

  Handily, he had his ID with the additional security clearances Lila had made sure he had as her husband. He could have made use of them before, but he’d tried to do stuff the right way. Screw that. He wasn’t made for channels. He was a break-in and interrupt sort of dude and always would be.

  It seemed as if he endured a million swipes and scans before he was outside Donovan’s office. All this security bullshit was because that bastard Nick wouldn’t even acknowledge in his head by name anymore had believed he could ruin people’s lives and not get caught. He’d had an accomplice, but it didn’t matter. They knew who was truly responsible.

  And now he was dead. As he should be.

  Outside Donovan’s door, Nick flexed his hand into a fist. Even now, more than a month after that final confrontation, his knuckles still ached sometimes. Theirs had been a fight to the death, and if his sister Ricki hadn’t been there—

  Yeah, well, he wasn’t cocky enough to deny who probably would’ve been dead that night.

  Nick lifted his hand to knock, then gave in to his baser instincts. Aka tipped his head near the thick-as-fuck door to see if he could hear anything.

  The hum of voices came through, but just barely. They were completely indistinct.

  He glanced at his watch. Past seven now. Way beyond official business hours. Hell, maybe Donovan’s admin hadn’t gone to the bathroom. She’d probably gone home. It wasn’t as if she’d bother to say goodnight to Nick. He was just a pain in her rear.

  Li had been working late a lot recently, which wasn’t that shocking considering all the crap that had happened in the fall. They were down a rep, among other things, and she was a workaholic under the best of circumstances. Add in the tragedy at the Warning Sign concert and the security breaches and all the rest, and it was no wonder she was rarely home for dinner these days.

  Sometimes she wasn’t even home for the late news.

  He’d understood what he was in for when he married her. They were both wedded to their careers, and their hours didn’t always mesh. As long as one of them was present for the girls, it was all good.

  Usually.

  They hadn’t talked a lot since the showdown in November. She’d been closed off and quiet, and the holidays had been understandably subdued this year. Sex had been oddly scarce since the fall too. That ra
rely happened anymore, especially since last Christmas when they’d vowed to not lose track of that part of their relationship due to work or stress or anything else. But she hadn’t been initiating, and he hadn’t been initiating, and now it felt as if fucking Donovan Lewis saw his wife more than he did.

  To hell with that.

  Nick knocked once and yanked on the doorknob at the same time. It didn’t budge. That fucker Donovan had locked the door.

  Locked himself in with his wife, after hours. When supposedly Li knew Nick was waiting for her downstairs.

  He’d always assumed seeing red was a figure of speech. Not so much.

  “Lila,” he bellowed, and he wasn’t ashamed. Not even when the door swung open and Lila appeared, looking ridiculously cool and composed in contrast to the heat now strangling his throat. If he tugged at his collar any more, he’d pop a button.

  He’d even dressed up to come down to the record studio. Traded his Megadeth T-shirt and ripped jeans for something more appropriate, since he was visiting as Li’s husband and not as a member of Oblivion. So much for making an effort.

  “Nicholas,” she said in her typical impervious tone, raising a brow. “What are you doing here?” Then a moment later, her expression clouded. “Is it the girls? Is something wrong?”

  “No. They’re with Gray and Jazz, probably having a ton of fun.” He reached out and snagged her wrist when she nodded and started to turn away. “I told that resting witch face that. Didn’t she tell you? She must have, or else you would’ve let me in if for no other reason.”

  That she might not agree to see him right away if the choice was merely between him or her work didn’t burn. Nope.

  “She told me.” The smooth male voice from behind Lila had her shifting toward the man seated behind a slab of a desk. Donovan didn’t raise his voice, and Nick couldn’t see him because Lila was blocking the doorway. Evidently, Donovan didn’t deem it necessary to rise. “Since it was ascertained it wasn’t a family emergency, I assumed it could wait.”