Page 39 of Feuds and Interludes
“Hands on your thighs and don’t fucking move them. If you mess up my work, Butler, you’re in trouble.”
Oh, I was in trouble, all right.
He gazed up at me with those deep, deep blues as he hollowed his cheeks and my legs started shaking so bad, I could barely stay in the chair.
“I want you to come in my mouth, Shane. Make me a mess.”
His words hit me like a lightning bolt, and I came with a surprised shout, doing exactly as he asked. He flattened out his tongue, closed his eyes, and let me make a mess of his pretty face, the visual almost as intoxicating as the sensation. The orgasm hit me so hard that when I finally relaxed, I was slumped over in the chair, barely able to form thoughts, much less worry about my band’s future.
“God, that was awesome,” Boone said as he wiped his face with his fingers and sucked one into his mouth. “You were so neat, too. Didn’t even get any in my hair.”
That made me laugh, and I reached for him, brushing his hair back. “I like you messy, Boone.”
He laughed, then pushed up on his knees and kissed me. “Good. I like your mess.” He stood and took my hand. “Come lay with me.”
I stood, tucked myself back into my drawers, pulled off my shirt and pants, and let him lead the way, dropping his own clothes onto the floor as he went.
Yeah, he was a mess. I was becoming quite fond of his mess.
Fourteen
Boone
I lay on the bed with the compound lights shining through the window with a big fat smile on my face. Next to me, dead asleep, was a perfectly sated Shane Butler with perfectly manicured hands. One of them was splayed on his bare chest, the light catching the sparkles in the teal paint, and the other was tangled in my hair. I didn’t mind it since it was him, and his nails were dry.
We’d had such a great talk. I couldn’t believe he’d opened up so much to me, that he’d finallyseenme, not the spoiled brat he’d thought I was. Not that he was totally wrong. Icouldbe a brat, and an insufferable perfectionist, but so could he. I hoped we could work around those things, because I reallyreallyliked being with him like this. The fact that he knew about my health challenges and hadn’t freaked out, that we were in similar positions with our bands…it was almost too good to be true, to have someone like him.
I dared to hope that I might even be close to having that musical partner I’d always dreamed about.
God, what would it be like to play and sing with him? Oh fuck, or towritewith him? I giggled out loud, and then covered my mouth when he stirred in his sleep. I didn’t want him to leave. I liked pretending we were a couple.
Annie and Brandon were happy for me earlier when Shane joined us. They’d already let me know that they liked Shane, but if he hurt me, they’d implement the most egregious revenge plan ever. I appreciated their support and hoped it wouldn’t come down to that because the Thompson twins—no, nottheband,myband—were brutal in their attacks. I wouldn’t want them on the hunt.
I couldn’t stop staring at Shane. He even frowned in his sleep. But watching him orgasm? I’d never felt such satisfaction in sex with another person. I always worried about my performance, but with Shane, I was more worried about pleasing him, helping him relax. I knew he was concerned about tomorrow, but I had a feeling it would be a really good thing for him. Lydia knew what she was doing. She’d protect him.
My phone buzzed, and I looked at the clock. It was nearly two a.m. I picked up my cell and saw a notification from the app for the flight charter company I’d bought shares in. Seemed the trip I’d booked for Gran to come up on Sunday had been canceled. Huh. I’d call her in the morning. She often went to bed late, but two in the morning was late even for her.
Shane mumbled in his sleep and turned toward me, and it was way too much of a temptation not to touch him. I ran my thumb over the crease between his brows, and his eyes opened.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He grunted and pulled me into his body, sliding his knee between my thighs. Sweet Jesus, he felt so good, and pressed up against his chest was where I wanted to spend every night. I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Don’t say it’s morning time,” he mumbled.
“It’s not,” I whispered, kissing him. “Go back to sleep.”
He sighed. “Stay with me, Boone. Right here.”
I looked up at him, and he still had his eyes closed. Was he talking in his sleep?
He slid a hand down and grabbed my ass, pulling me in tighter to him, and he groaned.
I definitely did not mind the sleep-groping or the sleep-talking, but the sleep-twitching was something else. At first it was like a puppy dreaming, hands and feet moving, but then a few times he tensed up, and one of those times, his hand that was still tangled in my hair yanked on it—hard.
I sucked in a breath, and when he didn’t let go, I tapped on his chest. He mumbled and rolled over, loosening his grip, thankfully. I curled up to his back and sighed.
I hadn’t known he had his back completely tattooed until that night. I hadn’t gone that route with my art. I’d only enjoyed the piercing needle as far as body modification was concerned. Shane’s strong back was covered with a vast black and gray mural like something out of Ancient Greece with a quote in the middle of a stormy sky. “To Live Alone is the Fate of AllGreatWicked Souls.” It disturbed me. Was that him being flippantly pessimistic, or did he truly believe that? I drew over the letters with my fingers and thought that, no, I didn’t want his fate to be alone.
