Rockstars, Babies & Happily Ever Afters Page 16

  Christ, Margo. And Deacon. And Harper.

  God, they’d endured so much. Were still enduring it every damn day.

  Because of the man Nick had given every chance to, again and again. Even when it didn’t make sense. They’d gone back so far, and his buddy deserved another chance. And another and another.

  Randy wasn’t getting any other chances, and he hadn’t needed them in the first place. He’d been so fucking good, such a decent, stand-up guy, and what had he gotten for his trouble?

  Nick shut his eyes and pressed his forehead to the cool window. Anything to stop the thoughts slamming through his head like bullets from a machine gun.

  “Hey.” Lila’s hand on his back was gentle. Soothing. “You don’t have to speak to someone. No one does. But I’m glad the option is there. I think it should be, don’t you?”

  He wanted to laugh it off. To say he was fine. Before he’d walked into this office, he’d convinced himself he was. He was still hurting for the people he loved. Of course, he was. But after those first crushing, numb weeks following the show in New York, they’d been in rehearsals again. Deacon had been on a modified schedule because of Harper, and Margo had needed to take more breaks to spend time with Jules, but for pockets of time, there was a sort of stilted normalcy.

  Now they were going on the road—their first overseas gigs, for fuck’s sake—and instead of excitement, there was trepidation. At least on his end, and he was positive he wasn’t the only one. He didn’t want to leave Li and the girls. And it wasn’t just because he hated leaving them, period.

  Everything was different. That sense that the world was basically okay had been shattered.

  Nothing would ever be the same again.

  Clenching his jaw, he stared out into the night. The twinkling lights of LA glittered, like diamonds that only shined on the surface. Go beneath and the core wasn’t nearly so frigging shiny.

  “I don’t want to go on tour.” Her hand stopped rubbing his back, but its light pressure didn’t lift. “As for the other, I never needed counseling before. I handled what I had to.”

  “You don’t want to go?”

  He shifted to look at her. “You don’t want me to go either.”

  “Of course, I don’t.” She shook her head as if he was daft. “Did you hear any of what I said?”

  “But this is a great move for Oblivion, and for Ripper—”

  “That’s true. But I don’t give a whit about profit and loss sheets when it comes to the man I love being away from me.” Even after everything that had come before, he was still processing his always business-minded wife saying money didn’t matter when she continued. “And the people I love being so far away from me. Margo and Simon, Deacon and Harper, Gray and Jazz—they’re all my family too.” She hooked her fingers in the belt loops of his pants and tugged him in close, resting her forehead against his chin. “Which is why I’m coming with you, and we can maybe try making a baby in Prague or something. Or just practice.”

  “Prague? Hmm, that’s a thought. It is cold as fuck there right now. What better way to keep warm.” He was still so stuck on the idea of getting Li pregnant—intentionally this time—he almost missed the rest. Gripping her shoulders, he drew back. “Wait, what? You’re coming with us? How? I thought Lord Lewis was sending someone else over instead since you’re wrapped up here training the new rep.”

  “Why do you think I’ve been working so many long hours?”

  “To get away from me?”

  She didn’t smile. “I never want to get away from you. I didn’t always want to spill how I was feeling, and I knew you’d drag it out of me. But that’s not the same thing.”

  “Dragging is dangerous business. Usually involves being dragged yourself.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “So you’re coming with me. For real.”

  “Yes. Donovan is rearranging schedules to make it work. More than one new person is coming in, but Sabrina doesn’t need handholding. She’s built quite a successful business on her own as a reputation fixer, so learning our ropes won’t be as difficult as it would be for some. The other person Donovan hired is greener, but—”

  “Reputation fixer? What the hell is that?” He waved his hand. “Never mind. Let’s get back to me fucking you in Prague.” He frowned. “What about the girls? We have a rule—”

  “My first thought was Ricki and Mal.”

  “Oh hell no. You think that behemoth can properly keep my kids alive for a week?”

  Delicately, Li cleared her throat. “Our kids.”

  Nick grunted.

  “Besides, Ricki would be there, and she’s great with the girls. You know that.”

  Nick didn’t answer. That was true, but still, Mal, caring for children? No. He wasn’t practicing on their girls.

  “God willing, they’re going to have their own babies someday, you know,” Li chided. “He’ll figure it out. I’ve known other clueless men who managed to raise children just fine.”

  Nick narrowed his eyes. “I will ignore that statement.”

  “Luckily, I came up with another solution.”

  Nick grunted again. Better be a more feasible one than the last. Mal. Seriously? He probably wouldn’t even keep them from chewing on cords or falling off the furniture.

  “My mother is coming with us. She’s going to help with them while we’re working. So the bus will be more crowded than usual.” Li’s lips curved. “That whole fucking me in Prague thing will require creativity.”

  “I do always love a challenge. And I love you. Thank you for saving our children from over-large men without any native child-rearing skills.”

  “That over-large man will be your brother-in-law soon enough. Might as well come to terms with it.”

  “Maybe that’s the first thing I should discuss in therapy.” He’d said it to be funny, but the shadow that crossed her face was anything but.

  To chase the darkness away, he picked her up again, holding her against him so her long hair tumbled down and curtained them in. “See, who needs a gym? I carry around my super-hot wife and same difference.”

  Shaking her head, she laughed and sifted her fingers through his hair as he toted her back to Donovan’s desk. “You’re okay with my mom coming?”

  “I love your mother. She says strange stuff sometimes, but pot, kettle. Also, the girls adore her.” He set her down on the blotter again and started on her buttons, waiting for Li’s requisite protests to kick in.

  Instead she locked her leg around the back of his thighs. “This is probably wrong.”

  “Probably? I was certain this would count as definitely wrong in your book. You’ve clearly been hanging out with an unsavory crowd.”

  “Just a crowd of one.” She tapped her thumb against his stomach. “And he’s very savory, enough that I’m dying to get him in my mouth.”

  He nearly groaned. Would have, in fact, if what she’d said earlier didn’t strike the base of his skull like an anvil.

  “You broke down at the doctor’s office.”

  She blinked, her bluebell eyes already hazy. “We can talk about that later.”

  “No. We can’t.” He grabbed her hand when it detoured for his zipper, wondering how he’d become this guy. The one who worried his kids had a parent or grandparent with them as often as possible, who put off sex with a hot blond—who he just happened to be married to, thank God—in favor of discussing difficult subjects.

  The world had tipped off its axis and he was clinging to the side with a hard-on.

  “I’m not saying you need to talk to me. But you need to talk to someone.”

  Lila blew out a breath. “It can’t be Margo right now. She’s dealing with so much stuff of her own with Jules. Also, I’m not sure, but I think something is going on with her and Simon.”

  “Something like what?”

  “I don’t know. She’s been odd lately, not talkative at all.”

  “Like you?”

  “Touché.” She sig
hed. “But yes, probably. The last few months have been so tough. I don’t begrudge her not speaking to me about her feelings. It’s not as if I’ve been any different. It’s just seems as if there’s more going on with them.”

  “Married people are weird.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Phil.” She was smiling at him though, so he figured his odds of getting lucky—on Donovan’s desk no less—were still high.

  “Donovan really didn’t have a problem with bringing in therapists?” Nick went back to undoing her buttons, slowly. So slowly. Both for the seduction of it and because he hadn’t quite said his piece yet.

  His piece wanted nothing more than to be between those creamy thighs, but unfortunately, there were other matters on the desk. Uh, table.

  “It took some convincing. He thinks business and personal lives should be separate, no matter how much of a family we bill ourselves as. More than the standard record company and artist relationship. Still, it’s a sticky area. He didn’t want to cross lines.” She toyed with her slim bangle watch. “Ultimately, he wanted to do what was best for everyone. Being PC isn’t as important as taking care of his people.”

  “You respect the guy.”

  “I do. I’ve worked for him for a long time, and he’s never made it seem as if I didn’t have an equal say.”

  “Are you going to talk to a counselor?”

  “Yes.” She exhaled. “I think I am.”

  It was easier than he expected to give her a quick nod. “Good. Me too.”

  “About Mal?”

  “Ha. No. He’s good for my sister. At least she says he is, so not my business. If that changes, I’ll break his fingers, not discuss it with someone I don’t know.” He flexed his hand, gripping her shirt. “All the rest. I’m going to try to talk about it. Try,” he repeated, just so she didn’t expect miracles. He wasn’t an emotive dude, and he didn’t see how a couple of counseling sessions would change that. But he could make an effort—for her, and for himself.

  “Can’t ask for more than that. I’m trying too.”

  He returned her measured look. “When we get back.”

  “Yes. It’s only a few weeks.”

  “A few weeks that will be impossibly better with you and my babies with me. And your mother, especially if she brings pie. Or better yet, she can make some pies on the bus?” His voice rose hopefully as Li laughed quietly.

  “Your appetite never ceases.”

  His gaze dropped to her perfect breasts, tilted upward at a mouth-watering angle thanks to her pose on the desk. “Damn straight it doesn’t.”

  She inched closer, widening her thighs so that her skirt climbed higher on her legs. Much more and he’d get a glimpse of her panties. Wondering what color they were was an endless source of fascination for him.

  Then she reached for his belt, yanking him to her. “You know this is wrong.”

  Hmm. She was saying one thing and doing another. Still on Donovan’s desk. He was getting harder by the second.

  “So wrong,” he echoed. “We shouldn’t.”

  “You’re my client. Our relationship is strictly business.” She traced the holes on his belt and his cock jerked behind his zipper. “There are boundaries we shouldn’t cross. It’s not proper.”

  Oh hell, she was role-playing. Or past-reliving. Not that she’d said exactly those words to him.

  She’d said others though, ones that had pissed him off at the time and could be reused now.

  “It’s not wrong if we keep it a secret.” He reached down and traced the lacy tops of her hose. She’d worn the same kind that night he’d first bent her over the table at the cabin, and discovering the secret delicacy of her underthings beneath her cool, crisp business suit had driven him mad.

  Now he was all too aware of the frilly shit she wore under her suits. And he longed for her with every damn breath.

  “No one can know.” With his other hand, he sculpted the line of her jaw and sank his hand into her hair, yanking her head back until their eyes were level. “Just one time. Then you’re supposed to walk away and forget. Can you handle that?”

  “No.” Her breath shuddered out as she pulled his belt free and let it drop. “I couldn’t forget a single moment.”

  The backs of his eyes burned hot for an instant at the memory of absorbing those words from her, knowing that one time might be all they would ever have. Going to Simon’s and fighting with his best friend when he taunted him over having a fruitless crush on Lila that would never come to anything when he still fucking smelled like her.

  He drew her to him and flipped her over, belly-first on the desk, almost forgetting to check his strength until the last second. That flash of bared flesh beneath her skirt—soft, pale thighs above her silky hose—reminded him that he wasn’t in that past, and he didn’t even want to pretend.

  Living through that moment once had been plenty.

  “You’re mine. Now and always.” He spoke against her hair as he fisted her skirt and tugged it up to reveal her scalloped edge white panties. Pure. Virginal. She’d come to him nearly that way. Married but so inexperienced.

  Now everything was so different, and this difference was magical.

  He undid the clip in her hair one-handed and sent it flying, needing to see that wild tangle spread out in every direction. He didn’t undo the rest of her blouse, didn’t remove the trim jacket. Didn’t have the control left for that. Later, much later, when they were at home, he would do this the right way.

  Now was all about possession, and vanquishing the past. Burning through it with the present.

  He didn’t rip her panties. She would’ve expected that. Instead he went to his knees and found her through them with his mouth, tracing her slit with his tongue and lips while she muffled sounds against her fist. Scraping her knuckles raw with her teeth as he teased with the edges of his thumbs, pressing the already damp material inward, making it wetter with his erotic kisses. Then peeling it back to rub his tongue over her until she squirmed, her thighs locking tighter around his head. The blotter beneath her body shifted, and he shoved at it, needing her right where he wanted her. Forcing her thighs apart so that he could devour her without pause, finally sealing his lips around the throbbing button of her clit and slipping two fingers inside. She rocketed back against him, her pussy squeezing him to the point he had to get up and undo his pants or risk not fathering any more children. He undid his pants one hand, continuing to finger fuck her almost lazily. She looked over her shoulder at the sound of his zipper, heaving her hair out of her face.

  “Hurry the hell up.”

  It made him smile and slow his fingers even more. She pulsed around him, a heartbeat from orgasm, and he was the sadistic bastard who intended to keep her suspended there so he could feel every drip and squeeze around his dick.

  “In a rush?” He freed his cock from his boxers and fisted it for one painful second before roughly rubbing her ass cheek, first one then the other. The fingers of his other hand continued their sensual assault, and he added a third just to hear her gasp. “Afraid Donovan is going to come back and catch us?”

  Nick’s gaze flicked to the door and he frowned. He didn’t see her touch the security panel he knew had to be hidden in a drawer on Donovan’s desk, but she must’ve. She took her job extremely seriously. If she was doing this, she had to be confident that they wouldn’t be caught, but fuck, what about the cameras? They were all over this joint. He hadn’t even thought about them.

  His hand slowed and Li rocked against him, coiling her leg around his to draw him closer as she reached back for his length. She was on her feet and grasping him tightly against her ass cheeks before he could counter, and he buried his face in her fragrant hair. The sweet scent of apples and sex deluged his senses and he drowned in it, savoring the pulls of her hand even as his brain scrambled to throw up a stop sign.

  Donovan’s office. Donovan’s desk. Her boss. If she somehow didn’t take the necessary precautions, she could get in serious trouble.
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  She let him go and turned to push him back into Donovan’s chair, climbing astride him in her prissy skirt as easily as if the fabric was made of Lycra—and it so wasn’t.

  “Wait.” It was impossible to think when she was straddling him with a couple buttons popped open, just enough for him to see the tops of her breasts heaving over the low cups of her bra. Her thighs locked around his legs and she took hold of his cock again, running her thumb over the heavy drop of pre-cum hovering at the tip. “Li.”

  “No waiting.” She closed her mouth over his, her lips teasing his open and inviting his tongue out to toy with hers. They kissed for a couple of frantic moments, words and warnings colliding and clashing in his dizzy brain. But she was working him so right, her hand a blur, her other one reaching down to push aside the scrap of material that guarded her pussy. Then she guided him home.

  Where he belonged.

  He hesitated for a fraction of an instant before the primal need to claim that was never far away reared to the fore.

  Hell yes, he was fucking Li in Lord Lewis’s chair.

  Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her down hard, relishing her sweet moans as she drove her fingers into his hair and took his mouth. She’d come so far from the almost shy, inexperienced lover she’d once been. Now she took what she craved without hesitation, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. She reached down for his hand, easing back just enough to suck on the tips of his fingers while she rode him, her pussy clasping him and releasing, clasping and releasing. Her body slid against his, sensuous and hungry, her tits so close to his face as she drew on his fingers, getting him wet before slipping his hand down her body, holding it against her breasts long enough for him to get the message and pinch her tightly furled nipples. Goddammit, he wanted to suck them with every stroke into her giving flesh. He fumbled with her blouse, trying to get it the rest of the way open, but she wasn’t having it. She had a different destination for his hand.

  Right between her legs.

  She held him there, circling, circling against her clit. He growled and pushed her hand away, needing more friction. He rubbed her even harder, showing no mercy, as the arm around her waist hauled her up and down and the liquid strokes of his dick inside her filled his consciousness. She was everything he could see. Streaming, wild blond hair, bright blue eyes nearly as crazed as his own, kiss-swollen lips. He tasted her in his mouth, breathed her in with every thrust. And it wasn’t enough. Couldn’t be enough, because she was the best part of his life, the most vital, amazing gift he’d ever been given.