A Dirty Wedding Night_A Dirty Rockstar Romance Page 10

  She shook her head. “I insist.”

  So I took a drag and passed it back. I poured myself a shot. Then we clinked glasses and she said, “To good times.”

  “To epic times,” I said, and we shot back the liquid gold.

  She smiled, but it was a guarded smile, like she hadn’t decided if she was happy or not. “How was it?” she asked.

  “How was what?” I leaned against the railing next to her.

  “You know.” She flicked an eyebrow toward the lodge. “In there. You see stars? Or was it more of a utilitarian wank?”

  I chuckled. “Come again?”

  “Your tug fest,” she said, and took a drag on the joint. “What kind of orgasm was it?”

  “The nonexistent kind.”

  Now she raised her eyebrow at me. “I thought you finished.”

  I laughed again. “While you’re out here waitin’ on me?” I took the joint as she passed it back and took a drag.

  “You took long enough.”

  I let my gaze drift down her open jacket, her low-cut shirt. I could see the full curves of her juicy tits, mocking me. “What can I say? You look good in cargos.” I watched as she poured us both another shot. “Took a while to cool off.”

  “That’s very sweet,” she said, like it wasn’t sweet at all. “But it wasn’t my cargos that got you there. So you don’t need to loop me into it. I’m not that fragile.”

  “Never thought you were.” A lock of her black hair had fallen across her cheek. I reached up and smoothed it back from her face so I could see those green eyes. “Was definitely your cargos that would’ve finished it off, though.”

  She smiled a little, again, but in that flippant way that meant she didn’t believe me. She raised her shot in toast. “To… even better times? Whatever’s better than epic.” She cocked her head at me. “Is there such a thing?” And as usual, I couldn’t tell if she was flirting with me or mocking me. Teasing me, just because she could.

  “To the best times,” I said.

  We clinked and shot the booze back.

  I handed her the joint. She looked down over the water and leaned over the rail as she smoked. I watched her dark hair dance in the slight breeze. Let my gaze wander down the curve of her back, to that round, tight ass. To the hit of memory: Roni bent over in front of me, my hands digging into her hips, that sleek arch of her naked back, gleaming with sweat.

  I looked away, out over the water.

  “This place is insane,” she said with a small sigh.

  “Yup.”

  I leaned farther over the rail, just like her, to see her face. There was a sweet, dreamy look on it as she took another drag on the joint, then handed it to me.

  “You gonna invite me when you get married here someday?” I asked her.

  Roni stared at me. Then she looked out over the water again, her gaze unfocused like she wasn’t really seeing it. “A young man told me, years ago, that I’m not the marrying kind.”

  I took a slow drag off the joint, thinking about that. “Must’ve been a real douche. And you listened to that shit?”

  “No. I never really listened to any of the shit you said. You said a lot of shit back then.”

  True enough.

  “Did piss me off for a while,” she admitted.

  “You still pissed, darlin’?”

  She poured us another shot. “I’m here, aren’t I?” Those unreadable green eyes held mine. “Besides, I don’t really do pissed anymore. Pissed implies attachment to outcomes, and I don’t have those. Cheers.”

  This time, we drank without toasting anything.

  “No?” I licked tequila from my lips. Despite the cold, my insides were growing warm.

  “Nope.”

  “Never?”

  “Not usually.”

  “How ’bout tonight?” I asked, handing the joint back to her. Because I saw her at the wedding reception in that sexy-as-fuck red dress, looking like a five-alarm fire, waiting on Ash to notice. “You got outcomes for tonight?”

  “Nope,” she said.

  “Ashley Player not an outcome, then?”

  She looked out over the water again as she smoked. “Nope.”

  I shifted closer to her and nudged her shoulder, lightly. “Thought you were lookin’ to hook up with him tonight.”

  She looked at me, not quite turning her head, just glancing around the curve of her hair. Then she smiled, just a little, her green eyes sparkling. Girl could play a tough game.

  Hardest chick to read I’d ever met.

  “Dylan, too,” I added.

  She passed me the joint. “Is that what it looks like?”

  “Looked like. Actually, you ask me, looked like pussy purring up the wrong tree.”

  She laughed. “Excuse me? Pussy what now?”

  “Ash,” I said. “Kid’s mind is somewhere else.”

  “I noticed.” She poured us another shot and handed one to me. “You wanna tell me where?”

  “Nope. Not my place.”

  We clinked and drank.

  “And now?” she asked, looking out over the water again as she licked tequila from her lip. “Where’s my pussy purring?”

  My gaze lingered on her plump lips, flushed and moist from tequila. I stared so long she finally turned to look at me, and her eyes met mine.

  I raised the joint to her lips and held it for her, while she gave it a little suck.

  “Up to you, V.”

  She just looked at me as she exhaled smoke.

  “The way I see it,” I added, “you could be with Dylan or Ash right now. But you aren’t. And in my experience, darlin’, when you’re choosing between two options, even two good ones, there’s always a third.”

  “Hmm,” she said, like that was mildly interesting.

  But she didn’t ask what that third option was.

  I took a long, deep pull off the joint, filling my mouth with smoke but not breathing it in. Then I let my gaze trail down her face again, to those swollen, cocksucking lips.

  “C’mere,” I murmured.

  She didn’t come, but she didn’t pull away when I leaned in. Her lips parted, and I fit my mouth to hers, almost… never quite touching her lips as I breathed the smoke into her mouth.

  She breathed it in.

  Then my lips brushed hers, lightly, hovering.

  She drew away an inch.

  “You still call me V,” she said softly. Her eyes were soft, too. Maybe the pot going to her head.

  “Your name, isn’t it?” I licked my lip without meaning to. “Fucking Veronica.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “No one else seems to remember it.” Then she moved to pour us another shot.

  I stopped her. “No more booze.”

  She glanced at me, then looked away, letting the bottle go. I set it aside. I watched her watch the water rush over the rocks below.

  “You don’t like Roni?”

  “Roni’s good,” she said.

  I took a drag from what was left of the joint, considering. “You don’t like it when the boys call you wild card.”

  “Fuck, no. They might as well call me slutbag and get it over with. For a bunch of rock stars, they’re a bunch of fucking prudes.”

  I chuckled. “Slutbag would be a compliment. Trust me. They mean wild card as one.”

  “No, they don’t.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  She raised an eyebrow and I leaned in closer to her.

  “Brats on a playground. They’re all jealous of what they don’t have. Shiny toys… All the boys want ’em, even if they’re not supposed to.”

  She smiled a little. “Did you just call me a toy?”

  “Not if you didn’t like it.”

  She smiled again. A genuine smile, for once. It lit up her face, her cheeks kinda glowing in the cold. But those green eyes were still wary.

  “How ’bout me?” I asked casually. “Am I a prude?”

  “You were never a prude. Just… selective.”

&
nbsp; “That right?” I looked down, watching the waves lick the rocks below. Dropped the roach into them, watched the ember sparkle down and snuff out. “Did I mention you look good in those cargos?” I turned my body to face her, letting my gaze move slowly down her curves. “Looked good in that red dress, too.”

  “Didn’t know you noticed.”

  “Notice a lot of things, darlin’.”

  She turned to me, her gaze drifting down my body. “So do I.”

  I was hard in my sweats, again, and I knew she could tell. No way I could hide a hard-on this size, even in the near-dark.

  She looked up at me and I saw the options there, flickering behind her eyes.

  Go back to her cabin, alone.

  Wander the woods the rest of the night, alone.

  But there was always that third option…

  “So…” I asked her, “you gonna play nice, V? Or make me work for it?”

  Her eyes narrowed a little as she considered that.

  “I never play nice.” She glanced at my cock again before meeting my eyes. “But why don’t you take it out, and I’ll do the work.”

  Chapter 4

  Roni

  It was just too fucking sweet to resist.

  The ultimate revenge.

  As Jude pushed the front of his sweats down, baring his big dick… hard… so totally fucking hard and swollen, for me… I’d never felt anything like the rush of it. I watched him jerk, tightening in anticipation, swelling even more as he waited for it. As he thought about what I was about to do.

  Yeah… hard, swollen, straining revenge, just aching for my attention. What could possibly be better than the man who’d once rejected you wanting you again?

  I could’ve walked away from him right then, just to rub it in.

  But where was the fun in that?

  There was no higher high, nothing I’d ever felt that was better, more delicious, more intensely arousing and at the same time totally fucking gratifying than the sensation of getting on my knees in front of that big, hard dick… and taking a taste of him.

  Slowly.

  While he groaned.

  While he shifted and stirred and put his hands in my hair. Just lightly.

  Shit. He was being sweet with me. And that, I didn’t expect.

  I couldn’t blame him for taking my mouth when I offered it. But he didn’t have to be sweet about it. He didn’t have to be gentle with his hands, as he held my head and let me take control.

  He could’ve been a total fucking cocky asshole about it.

  But then again, Jude had never been an asshole.

  And as I teased his fat cockhead with a slow, torturous lick, and flickered the tip of my tongue over his slit, tasting that delicious taste, that first drop of his salty fluid… it hit me, hard. Made my head spin with the question…

  Who was really in control here?

  I took him then, fast, not bothering with the slow buildup, the tease. I just stroked my tongue along his shaft, once, to get him wet, then took him deep, making him groan again. I sucked him off, hard and fast, wrapping one hand around the base of his cock and squeezing hard, strangling him, the way I knew he liked it back then, cupping his balls and tugging with the other hand.

  “Jesus Christ, V…” he growled.

  Then he pulled away, ripping his dick from my mouth.

  I looked up at him. We were both panting.

  He cupped my face and held my eyes. “You gonna make my night or what?” he asked, stroking a thumb lightly down my cheek.

  “Was just about to,” I said, swiping my tongue over my lip, still tasting him.

  “Not what I meant.”

  He pulled me to my feet. Then he cupped my face again. He leaned in, and as his mouth met mine, it was foreign and so familiar… like being kissed by a stranger and someone you knew like the palm of your own hand—someone you’d kissed a thousand times in your dreams, or on the edge of sleep, half-conscious as your hands roamed over your own body… as you got yourself off to the half-remembered smell of him, the slippery fullness of his lips, the slight roughness of his stubble, the soft scrape of his teeth against your skin.

  I broke away, drawing back for air.

  He stared at me.

  Then he caught my hand. He drew me with him, moving toward the lodge.

  And I went with him, letting him take me there.

  Inside, he walked me over to the little love seat and stood me right in front of it, close to the fire, and said, “Take off your clothes.”

  Then he sat down in the middle of the seat, watching me.

  “Don’t you wanna do it for me?” I asked, still catching my breath.

  “I want to watch,” he said.

  So be it.

  I got undressed, and I did it slowly. I started with my jacket. My boots, then my socks. My sweater went next, peeled slowly over my head and tossed aside. My T-shirt, then my jeans. Every zipper pulled slowly, every button popped with a slight pause. Watching his eyes grow darker as he drank in the curves of my body, all rimmed in firelight.

  I unhooked my bra and let it slide loose down my arms, holding it in front of me, teasing him a little before I dropped it.

  My panties went next in a slow, slow peel.

  As soon as I was naked, he got up and prowled the two paces it took to get right in my face. He raised one hand to my breast and cupped lightly, skimming his thumb over my nipple as it hardened in response.

  A delicious, tingling shiver ran through me.

  And… no. This was not just about revenge.

  I knew it as he leaned so close to me that I could feel his heat, could smell his clean, manly smell, could feel the hairs on his arm dusting my skin… and my whole body wound up tight with anticipation—even as I held back.

  This was about me—getting what I wanted. What I’d always wanted, if I was at all honest with myself about it.

  Namely, the dark-haired beauty, the beast right in front of me.

  He leaned down to touch his lips to my neck, breathing in my ear. “Get on your back,” he murmured. I shivered again as his lips skimmed along my jaw and briefly hovered over my mouth.

  I kissed him then, softly, my lips just catching his, making him pause. The feel of him, the heat of him, went straight between my legs. I felt giddy-hot and restless with need. I sucked a bit on his bottom lip, before he drew back.

  His hellfire eyes flashed at me.

  “On your back,” he said.

  “I wanna get you off,” I whispered.

  “You will.” He leaned in and skimmed his lips across my cheek, to my ear again. “I want you on your back,” he said, his teeth catching on my earlobe. My pussy throbbed… ached as he bit down, lightly. “Wanna hold you down and give it to you, while you beg me for more.”

  Not gonna happen.

  That’s what I would’ve said to any other man.

  To him, I just said, “Where?”

  “Wherever you want.”

  I looked around. The love seat was too small for both of us, if he wanted me on my back. Otherwise, there were no full-sized couches, just chairs.

  Of course, there was always the floor…

  But I went over to the love seat and climbed up onto the velvety upholstered back. I reclined back on it, keeping myself propped up on my elbows, for now, so I could watch him as he lost his hoodie, kicked off his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head, then stripped off his socks and sweats. He wasn’t wearing underwear.

  When my gaze landed on his naked cock, it hit me.

  “Oh, shit. Condom,” I said, sitting up.

  “I have some.” He reached for his hoodie and dug around in the pockets, and I snickered a bit.

  “You always carry condoms when you jerk off?”

  He smirked. “Always come prepared.”

  “What is that, some Boy Scouts thing?” I teased.

  “It’s a smart thing,” he said, his gaze roaming down my naked body, “obviously.”

  I put my feet up on t
he back of the love seat, my knees bent, pointed my toes and arched my back, like a pinup. “Well, come and get it then,” I said, as he rolled a condom over his hard length.

  “Intend to.”

  Naked and totally fucking gorgeous, he stalked over to me. I lay back as he lifted my legs. Without hesitation, he straddled the back of the love seat, one foot on the seat and the other on the floor, and wrapped my legs around his waist. Then he notched the swollen head of his cock into my pussy. I was already wet and ready to take him; I braced for his thrust as my heart hammered in my chest.

  But he hesitated. “You want foreplay, darlin’?” he asked me. “’Cause that look on your face says you don’t.”

  “Fuck foreplay,” I said.

  He smirked a little. He ran his hands up my body and cupped my breasts, squeezing hard… then he shifted his hips forward, sliding into me.

  And God… that feeling.

  Cock.

  Big cock.

  Jude’s cock…

  It fucking shattered me.

  This. God, I wanted this…

  I writhed, arching my back as I took him, as he stretched me to my limits with that long, slow push…

  He didn’t let up until he’d filled me. Then he paused, closing his eyes as he took a breath, savoring the feeling.

  And my stomach twirled. My chest tightened. A whole lot of unfamiliar, fucking disturbing feelings ripped through me as I stared at his face.

  He opened his eyes, locking on mine, and pulled back… then shoved into me again, still squeezing my breasts. Harder this time. Faster.

  And I just tried to hold still.

  To keep calm.

  He shoved into me again and again as I lay there on my back, my thighs wrapped around his hips, gripping the love seat beneath me with both hands. Not because I was afraid of falling off. Jude would never let me fall.

  Because I didn’t want to touch him with my hands.

  I didn’t want to feel his warm, silky skin and the bulge of his muscles beneath, flexing as he drove into me. I didn’t want to pinch and tease his rigid nipples and hear him growl.

  Most of all, I didn’t want to grab him and pull him down to me so I could kiss him again.

  If I did that, I was gonna lose it. Start whimpering and panting and making a total fucking fuss that I couldn’t take back. Jude’s face in my face, his mouth on me again… I just couldn’t fucking stand it while his cock was inside me. I knew I couldn’t.