The Boy Next Door - Page 30

I swiped my thumb across her clit, savoring the sound she made, halfway between a sob and a surprised gasp. I was rock-hard, ready to be inside her… but still, I held back, wanting to be clear-headed as I watched her fall apart.

And God, what a sight it was to see her come undone for me, her legs and mouth falling open on a ragged moan, her arms tossed akimbo into the space above her head as she arched, shuddered, and finally went slack against the rug, that rug that I had never realized the purpose of before.

I knew the purpose of the thing now. I would never be able to forget it, the image of her coming spread out on the floor. It was a promise that she needed the release as badly as I did. I had never seen anything as sexy in my life.

With that thought in mind, I slammed into her, plunging deep. I couldn’t have held back for another second, not even with a gun to my head.

I thrust into her sending her over the brink for a second time, and feeling her walls clench and squeeze around me, there was nothing I could do to hold myself back again.

I spilled my slick seed inside of her, crashing through pleasure that thrummed like a cymbal after a hard hit from a mallet.

We collapsed, and even though we were sprawled in the middle of the hall, it was a long time before either of us moved. When it did happen, it was Leah who shifted, and all she did was move closer to me, pressing her body to mine. I wrapped my arms around her, lightly stroking my fingers down her spine, feeling her shiver against me, the aftershocks of pleasure still shaking her to the core. Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I could still feel her heartbeat moving her entire body.

She sighed happily, nuzzling my chest. I couldn’t deny how good it felt to hold her close like that. I looked down at her, and she looked back at me. Slowly, she reached out and tenderly stroked my cheek.

It made something inside of me break open, and all the worries and frustrations started spilling out.

“My band’s in trouble,” I told her. “We’re so close to making it. It’s everything we’ve ever worked for and everything I’ve ever wanted. But it seems like either the other guys don’t want it as badly as I do or, I don’t know, maybe they never did. Or maybe they’re just not cut out for it.”

I paused, and there was a part of me that expected her to pull away. But she didn’t. Nor did she say anything—she just lay there staring patiently up at me, waiting for me to continue.

“It’s so fucked-up,” I exploded. “Mark is too busy fucking groupies to give a shit about anything, and Carter is too drunk to play half the time. He can barely make it through a show most nights. Like, what the hell are we going to do? We have a chance to get signed, there’s a guy who might actually be interested in our stuff—and he’s only heard our shitty demo that was recorded in a basement. But we’re going to blow our chance if we can’t pull it together.”

Even though talking about it didn’t solve anything, I had to admit it felt good to finally say these things. Even though Luke and I were both thinking along the same lines, he didn’t want to talk about it. And there was no talking to Carter or Mark. They weren’t interested in listening.

Leah listened. She stared attentively up at me, her face screwed up in concentration.

That was the moment when I wondered if I had let things go too far with her. No way was I starting to fall for her. I barely knew her in the first place. Then again, what I knew about her, I liked. She was a gorgeous, kind, thoughtful, smart woman. She wasn’t full of herself. She knew what she wanted, and she went for it. She was funny and charming and beautiful, all bundled up in one.

Not to mention, the sex was damn good.

I felt good when I was around her, that was what it really came down to. It almost felt like when I was on stage. There was something about her that made my insides glow. Something about being with her that just felt right somehow.

Finally, Leah spoke. “Sounds like your bandmates are already living like rock stars,” she said wryly, giving me a crooked smile. “Have you tried reminding them how precarious their position is? How fleeting fame can be if they don’t put the work in? Maybe that would push them to get back in the studio.”

My mouth twisted in frustration. Her words made sense, and I wished I believed words like that might make a difference. “I don’t think they’d get that,” I sighed. “They’re so focused on sex, booze, and who knows what else that they just don’t have the bandwidth to conceptualize that.”

Tags: Natasha L. Black Erotic
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