Page 32 of Rockstar Baby
“Not if I get you wet first.”
My laugh ended in a groan as he slid two fingers into me. I had no choice but to lean on him. Not when his fingers were that freaking talented. My thighs trembled and I arched away from him as the last of the bubbles swirled around my feet.
I reached behind to grasp his hair, his name a sigh and a half scream as black dots played like fireworks across my vision. He held me tighter against him, his cock digging into me, but he didn’t let me go.
He swayed and moved with me as I rocked through one orgasm and yet another before I sagged against him.
Whoa.
He wrapped a towel around me and scooped me out of the bath, then carted me into the bedroom.
“Wait.”
He frowned down at me.
My teeth chattered a little as I came back from the quick trip to Euphoriaville. I curled into the blanket-sized towel and tucked my face into his warm neck. “If this is going for another round, I thought you might be happy to know Sage outfitted the medicine cabinet.”
“She is a wonder. Practically congratulated me before I came up to the room.”
I laughed. “Sounds like her. I started at the diner after she left, but I’ve heard some serious stories about her.”
He set me down on the bed and tucked me into the covers. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to assume anything, nor to have the town talking about you.”
I snuggled into the fluffy and very warm duvet. “I’m a big girl, LC.”
He grunted, but he damn well returned to the bathroom. He came back into the room and set the small box of condoms on the end table before making a pit stop at the fireplace to set the fire to blazing.
Now that I was under the covers and the winter sun was streaming in the window, I was warming nicely, but I appreciated the gesture. Especially with the look on his face. It said that I was going to be losing the towel momentously.
I shivered as he stood before me.
“Still chilled?”
I shook my headnoas I bit my lower lip.
“You’ll be the death of me.”
My smile was slow and wide as my arm shot out to drag him onto the bed. His boots thumped to the floor. A rare laugh tumbled from his lips as he stripped out of his jeans and I pushed at his sweater and the thermal shirt under it.
“Poor California boy is freezing his ass off here in New York.”
“Ah, but I have a sweet redheaded lass who is going to warm me up.”
I laughed at the thickened bit of Irish he put into his voice. “Keep talking like that and I’ll never let you go.” His smile slipped a little, and my breath backed up. “I didn’t mean—”
He covered my mouth with his. “I know what you mean, Ivy.”
The thrill zinged down my spine as he said my name again. Why did that drive me so crazy? It was just a name. People said it a million times a day since I was usually waitressing at three different places some weeks. When he said it?
It wasn’t like anyone else.
And then it really didn’t matter what names were being said, because most of the next string of words were curse words and deities in quick succession.
Sweet mercy, the man had a talented mouth. A devilish one that had no business making me scream out for God, but boy, did I.
He rolled me under him, above him, and finally, in what was becoming his favorite position—and mine—he spooned me as he splayed me open to his every touch.
I arched and his long, delicious fingers stroked me from clit to neck before he turned my head to meet his lips as he thrust into me again and again. I was surrounded and bared at the same time, cherished and displayed in ways I’d never been before.
