Jace, page 15
The hook popped free and he slid the lacy straps aside. Seeing the muscles of his jaw working, the flare of his nostrils, had her shaking with anticipation. Yes, he wanted her—like she wanted him. Once would never be enough.
The brush of his thumb on her nipple stole her breath. And his gaze blazed into hers. Over and over, he stroked and teased, his lips pressed to hers and his tongue sliding deep. She was holding on, barely breathing, and frantic for more.
The plane of his stomach was rock hard. Her fingers dipped lower, closing on the towel at his waist and tugging. In seconds, her panties were on the floor and he was on his knees in front of her. The heat of his breath on her skin was too much for her.
“Jace.” She gripped his shoulders, pulling him up. “I want you. Now.”
In a matter of seconds, she was on the bed, staring up at him—throbbing for him. He stood on the side of the bed, staring down at her with a hunger so raw she felt it.
He watched as his fingers trailed down her breasts, across her stomach, around the curve of her hip, and toward her knee. And then his magical fingers reversed direction, teasing the sensitive skin behind her knee, featherlight up the inside of her thigh, to hover between her legs. The ache was near painful when he touched her. But it was worth the wait. The things he did with his fingers, his hand. She reached up, holding on to the headboard and turning her face into the pillow.
The pillow disappeared.
“If I’m doing something right, I want to know.” His voice was low and gruff and delicious against her ear.
“You are.” She gasped. “Soon, everyone on this floor will know.”
He was smiling one of those smiles that melted her from the inside. Once was definitely not going to be enough. “Let ’em,” he said against her lips. His mouth closed on hers, his tongue stealing her breath, and his fingers, those magical fingers, sent her free-falling into pure bliss. He muffled most of her cries with his kiss but he was still smiling like a fool when she opened her eyes.
Something about Jace over her, his hair falling onto his forehead and his eyes still on fire—for her—caught her by surprise. It was a different kind of longing. Better to focus on the here and now than long for the impossible.
She was panting from her release.
It was his turn. She sat up and grabbed him, pushing him back on the bed before he knew what was happening. The surprise on his face was priceless. But nothing was more gratifying than the groan she pulled deep from his chest when her lips found his very impressive, very hard proof of arousal.
His body was incredible. While her mouth was occupied, she let her hands explore. But it was too much for him. “Krystal. Come here.” He was breathing hard, his hands fisted in the comforter and the cords in his neck rigid.
She smiled at him, crawling slowly up to straddle him. “Condom?”
He blew out a long, unsteady breath and pointed at the bedside dresser. In the top drawer was a huge box of condoms, a bottle of pain reliever, some Band-Aids, and antacid tablets.
“Looks like you’re covered.” She held up the mega-pack of condoms. “Maybe.” She pulled one out, tore the corner of the package, and placed it gently on the tip of what guaranteed a pleasure-filled evening.
* * *
Jace was having a hell of a time breathing. He watched her—straddling his thighs—roll on the condom. With her hair wild and crazy and her lips swollen from his kisses, she was the hottest damn thing he’d ever seen in his life. Her body was beyond imagining: curves, strength, and pure femininity. Touching her. Tasting her. Seeing and hearing her climax for him—he was rock hard and hurting too much to draw this out. Next time, they’d go slow. Next time, he’d drive her out of her mind until she was loud enough to wake the whole damn hotel.
But not now… His hands settled at her hips, lifting her up, telling her what he needed.
Her green eyes blazed as she braced her hands on his chest and eased onto him. His fingers convulsed against her flesh. She was tight. Hot. Incredible. Being buried deep inside her was heaven. She was breathing hard above him, her hair falling forward around them. He reached up, smoothing her hair away and twisting it around his hand to bring her close enough to kiss.
Then she began to move and he damn near lost his mind. “Dammit,” he hissed. The force of her thrusts, the slide of her body gloving him again and again, was already too much for him.
One look at her face steadied him.
As much as he wanted his climax, he wanted hers more. And she was working her way there. With every thrust, every moan and grind, she was closer. One hand in her hair, the other gripping her hip, he met her thrust for thrust. Powering into her. Hearing her growing cries. Feeling her body quiver. Driven. Wild. Finally, the clench and pulse of her muscles constricted around him, signaling her release. She was beautiful. Her face. Her cries. Her body.
She held on as he rolled them over, moaning softly when he slid deep. The mix of hunger and bliss in her green eyes shook the very core of him. This was where she belonged. With him, like this. Whatever it took, he’d prove that to her. They were good together, in and out of bed. Not that he was in a hurry to finish this. He wrapped her legs around his waist, cradled her face in his hands, and kissed her. He moved slowly, sliding in and pulling out, until they were both frantic. And still, he kissed her. He stared into her eyes, so she’d know he was making her feel this way. This was what they, together, could be. He was loving her like this. And she’d miss him, miss this. He didn’t want to believe tonight was all he had with her. But if it was, he’d make damn sure she didn’t forget.
Her legs tightened around his hips, holding on as she climaxed again. “Jace. Yes, oh, Jace.” It was broken and raw and all he needed to let go.
He moved, hard and fast, until his release slammed into him. He called out, broken words he didn’t hear or understand. It was too sharp, too big, the force of this—of her. It went on, rolling over him, draining him, until he was propped on trembling arms, grasping for breath.
She was just as stunned as he was, eyes blinking, cheeks red, her mind working through what had just happened. Which was good. It would have been damn awkward if he was the only one shell-shocked by how good they were together. Not that it would change her mind. She was too stubborn for that. When he rolled to his side, he fully prepared for her to bolt from his bed and his room.
Instead she turned to face him.
He slid his fingers through her long hair, smoothing it away from her face, but didn’t say a thing. Words, right now, were a tricky thing. If something was going to be said, he’d let her take the lead. For him, for now, this was enough.
She was studying him, assessing things. Did she have any idea how expressive she was? From uncertainty to fear to excitement, her features shifted until they settled into the beginnings of a smile. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”
Which was pretty much the last thing he expected her to say.
“Room service?” she asked. “Then you can tell me about the song you’re working on.”
Another surprise. Not that he was complaining. If they were talking music, she wasn’t going anywhere. “Which one?” There were a few knocking around inside his head.
“Exactly.” She was smiling now.
“Hold up.” He loved the curve of her smile. “You first. The one from the plane? Finished it?”
Her eyes narrowed and she went back to studying him. “Maybe.” And then she was sliding to the side of the bed. “Where is your room service menu?”
Menu? What menu? She was searching his room, naked, and he was appreciating the view. He didn’t give a crap about the menu. Or eating. Or getting out of this bed anytime soon.
“Jace?” she asked, peering back at him.
“Yeah?” He propped himself up on the pillows.
Hands on hips, she faced him, all sass. She was sexy as hell. “Menu?” But there was laughter in her voice.
“I’m thinking. Give me a minute.” He didn’t bother pretending he wasn’t giving her a thorough once-over. He was—and enjoying every minute of it.
She laughed. “Food.”
“I’m not that hungry…for food.” He paused. “Seems I have one hell of an appetite for you.” She had a powerful effect on him, one he had no interest in denying. His body was definitely rising to the challenge.
And she noticed. “Really?” It was breathless.
“If you’re too worn out…” He shrugged.
“You think that’s going to work?” She shook her head, but she was heading back to his side of the bed, standing beside him—close enough to reach. The look on her face? She wanted him to touch her. He could do that.
“What?” he asked, his hand stroking up the inside of her thigh.
It was a sigh. “This.” She leaned into him.
“No.” He ran his fingers between her legs and groaned. She was warm. So damn soft. “Maybe.”
She didn’t waste any time. Once a new condom was in place, she was straddling him, her breath powering out of her as she slid down his rigid length. Her hands gripped the headboard, his steadied her hips. It was hard, fast, and face-to-face. She didn’t shy away from him but held his gaze. Thrust for thrust, he soaked up every hitch and moan, the hot slide of her body and the sway of her breasts.
“Jace.” She was close. He caught her face, swallowing her near-screamed release with a kiss and powering into her until his followed.
She slumped forward, gasping for breath, her cheek against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking the length of her back. This was right. He couldn’t imagine anything better than this. Holding her close and breathing her in.
“You feel good.” It was true.
She didn’t respond.
“Hungry?” Another stroke, another shudder.
She nodded but didn’t move.
He leaned back against the headboard, content to stay wrapped up in her for as long as she wanted. For the first time in a long time, there was no push to hurry through or get something done.
Even in his dreams, she was there. Her silky arms around him. Scent flooding his nostrils. Her hair spread across his chest. He slept hard and woke up refreshed. So waking up to an empty bed, no sign of Krystal anywhere, was a kick to the gut.
It’s not like he’d hoped to find her smiling up at him in his bed… No, hell, that’s exactly what he’d hoped. Why wouldn’t he? Last night had been all good. She’d felt it, too. Maybe that’s why she’d cut and run? The only way Krystal seemed able to process feelings was through song—either writing them or singing them.
Which gave him an idea.
He downed a pot of coffee and stood under scorching hot water to ease the crick in his neck, but he was dragging when he climbed into the elevator.
A text alert pinged his phone.
Heather. She sent a selfie. She was holding up a magazine. The Kings were on the front but a small headshot of him was in the corner.
Proud of you, big brother.
He smiled. Miss you.
How’s it going? She in love with you yet?
He stared at the picture. Krystal’s smile was all attitude. Damn, but he’d hoped it was an act. Part of him—the stupid part of him—still hoped it was. Think I’m out of luck on that one, kiddo.
There was a long break, followed by another picture. This was the pic from the bowling alley. Krystal asleep, draped across him. Him holding on to her like…like he had every right to hold on to her. It wasn’t the same pic they’d showed on Guy’s show; this was from a different angle. It was closer. And what he saw made him ache.
Falling for Krystal King would be the stupidest damn thing he could possibly do. Not that there was any choosing involved in matters of the heart. Anyone who said there was had never been in love, not really. He wouldn’t have chosen Nikki. She was happiest in a group, hanging out, having fun. Responsibilities? The mundane day-in, day-out stuff? She couldn’t be bothered. Maybe that was why her drinking got out of hand. Her frequent disappearing acts become more frequent as well as her defensiveness. She knew what she was doing wrong, especially after Ben was born, but she never tried to stop. His grandmother always said she’d lead him to heartbreak. But no one could have guessed just how cataclysmic that heartbreak would be.
Read this. It was a link. Ten ways to win a woman’s heart. He clicked on it. The first suggestion? Send her flowers and her favorite candy. Really? He didn’t think that would work with Krystal. He shook his head and closed the article.
Hell, did he want to win her heart? He might want to answer that question first—and seriously consider the consequences of his answer.
He shook his head, walking out of the elevators. Thanks. I’ll read it on the road.
He stared at the picture of Krystal. He didn’t believe last night was all there was between them. Maybe he was kidding himself but…he’d seen the look on her face, the spark in her green eyes. It wasn’t just sex. It wasn’t.
“Damn stubborn,” he ground out, heading to the front doors.
“Jace?” It was Emmy, right beside him. “Talking to Heather?”
He nodded. “Sorry.” He hadn’t even noticed her.
“No problem.” She smiled. “Tell her I said hi.”
He nodded, typing in the message and hitting send.
“How’d it go?” Emmy asked, wrinkling her nose. “Krystal stormed out of the hotel room last night, so I’m guessing she wasn’t very nice to you? I thought you were sweet. She just sort of blew her top.”
He wasn’t sure what to say. “I survived.”
She nodded. “Glad to hear it—we’ve got a sold-out show tonight.”
They were driving to San Francisco. After tonight’s show, they’d drive up the coast to Oregon. “Looking forward to it.” He nodded. “Can I ask you a question?”
She nodded. “Sure.”
“Krystal.” He cleared his throat. “She have a favorite flower? Candy?”
“Red Vines and daisies.” She patted his arm. “I’m rooting for you. I’ve told her you’re a good guy, but you can’t really blame her for being suspicious. Krystal…well…” Her expression closed. “If you hurt her, you’ll have to answer to me. And Trav. And my daddy, too.”
It wasn’t the first time he suspected there was more going on than he knew about. “I don’t suppose you want to enlighten me on anything?”
Emmy Lou looked at him long and hard, then shook her head. “Krystal doesn’t share secrets with anyone. Not even me.”
“I respect that.” And he did. “And if she had, I wouldn’t expect you to tell me. A word loses its power when it’s broken.”
“That, right there. You don’t know how many times it’s been broken for her. In big, nasty ways. The kind a person, sometimes, can’t heal from.” Emmy shook her head. “That sounds like one of her songs, doesn’t it? She writes a lot, uses her songs to get stuff out.”
He did the same.
“Be good to her, please. She needs someone like you to…to make it better.” There was such sadness in Emmy’s voice.
“She’s not exactly making this easy.”
“And she never will.” Emmy shrugged. “You should know that from the get-go.”
“Message received.” He smiled.
“Morning.” Travis was walking toward them with a box of pastries in hand, a half-eaten donut sticking out of his mouth. “You two look like you’re up to something.” He trotted the rest of the way. “What’s happening?”
“Swallow.” Emmy Lou made a face. “You were raised with manners. I know, because I was there.”
He opened his mouth, chewed up donut and all. “Talking about me?”
“And my ribs.” Jace nodded.
“Bad?” Travis tugged up Jace’s faded grey shirt. “Shit. That looks bad.”
“Feels pretty damn bad, too.”
“Y’all get a move on.” Hank King waved them on. “We’ve got six hours and not a lot of leeway. I’ve got some news about ACMF we need to talk about. And a tour extension.”
“Does that mean we get to ride on the fancy bus?” Travis asked, following his father. Travis’s bus was low-frills and he made sure his father knew how much it irritated him every chance he got. “With its custom leather, high-tech audio-video security system, big-screen televisions, damn near gourmet kitchen—”
“Just get on.” Hank rolled his eyes and pointed at the girls’ bus—the “fancy bus,” as Travis called it. “You too, Jace. Got a song I want to play for you.”
“I got a quick phone call,” Jace said. “I’ll be right there.” He dialed quickly. “Luke. I need you to do something for me. I need daisies and the biggest box of Red Vines you can find delivered to the San Francisco venue tonight.” He paused. “Krystal’s dressing room.” He talked over Luke’s protests. “Can you do it, yes or no?”
“I can do it.” Luke sighed. “But you’re playing with fire.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Chapter 11
“Looks like ACMF isn’t going to work out.” Her father leaned against the bus wall, slowly spinning his hat in his hands.
“What happened?” Travis stopped mid-chew, midway through the box of donuts he’d brought with him. “I thought we were emceeing? Now we’re not even going?”
“Nothing happened.” He shook his head. “We got an invite to Australia. Figured you might want to go?”
Something had happened. ACMF was one of her father’s favorite events—he credited the festival with him getting his start. To miss it? He was keeping something from them. “And?” Krystal pulled the box away from Travis. “Some of us haven’t had one.”
“Some of you might want to rethink having one.” Travis stared at her rear.
“Rude.” She pinched him, hard. “Daddy?”
Hank smacked his hat against his thigh, shooting a glance at Jace.
