The Best Kind of Trouble Page 85


Then she leaned forward, bracing her hands on his thighs, her gaze meeting his in the mirror. Frank. Full of need. No shame as she took what she wanted.

“Yes, gorgeous. Take whatever you need.”

He held her hips, guiding her.

“Love being naked in you. Feel so good,” he mumbled, and she gasped her agreement with that.

“Missed this. Dreamed of it every f**king night. Jerked off so many times while I imagined you, and it wasn’t enough. Nothing is. Only you are.”

She shuddered around him.

He reached between her thighs, finding her swollen and ready for him again. He kept his touch light, circling slow and steady, knowing how sensitive she’d be after her recent orgasm.

The hum she made in response seemed to vibrate through her straight to his balls.

Without a condom, the clasp of her inner muscles was something he felt along his spine. Was more attuned to the tiny earthquakes inside her.

She groaned, her head tipping back, and exploded around him. He held a hand at her hip, keeping himself deep as she rolled her hips, inferno-hot and wet around him until he couldn’t do anything but come with her. So hard, so long, he wasn’t sure if he’d actually come twice.

Finally, he picked her up, cuddling her, as they got their breath back.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

SHE STRETCHED AFTER she’d gotten out of the shower once more, smiling as she heard him singing in the other room.

He’d be naked, she knew. He rarely wore clothes in hotel rooms. He tended to run hot, anyway. She, on the other hand, pulled on another pair of new underpants she’d picked up with him in mind a few weeks before. Emerald-green this time, with the lacing at the ass that he seemed to love.

She grabbed her sleep pants and wandered into the bedroom where she found a stack of his clean T-shirts. Smiling, she took one and pulled it over her head.

He spoke when she came out. “I ordered some food. I know you must be tired, but I’m starving, and I’d love it if you hung out with me awhile.”

“I can sleep when I get home.”

He turned with a smile that grew even bigger when he noted she was wearing one of his shirts.

“Don’t worry. I brought you a few to replace the ones I’ll undoubtedly steal while I’m here with you.”

He came to her, pulling her close. “I love that you steal my shirts. But you need to leave a few that you’ve worn so I can smell you on them. Once they get laundered, I won’t have that scent of your skin on them anymore.”

She smiled, incredibly happy. “God, I missed you.”

He kissed her quickly. “Good. I’d hate to be the only one.”

They settled on the couch as they waited for room service. She rested her head on his shoulder.

“We’ve sold out every single show. They want us to do more, but Damien won’t leave Mary, and he won’t be gone when she’s close to going into labor.”

“Good for him.”

He grinned, turning to kiss the top of her head. “Yeah, they came at me, trying to go around him. Appealing to me to talk him into more shows. As if I’d talk my brother out of being where he should be? His wife’s side when his baby is ready to come into the world? Who are these people? Sometimes, honestly, I just want to burn it all down and live on the ranch and make records and do small shows without all the label stuff.”

She wisely remained silent. She knew it was a struggle for them sometimes. They put their family first, and sometimes they got blowback from the label executives about it.

“They like money. I get it. I do, too. But they think in terms of bottom lines, and they don’t give a damn that Mary is pregnant or that Damien won’t risk her health by having her so far from home and on a crazy travel schedule when she’s eight months pregnant.”

“But you do.”

“Of course! We gave them a three-month tour. That’s enough for now. Later, after the baby comes, we might think about Europe and South America. But for now, this is good, and they need to back off.”

She patted his thigh. “Just underlining that. I know you do. Should I deal with the room service when it gets here?”

“You?” He made a sound. “You rest. I’ll handle all that.”

“Well, then, you’ll need pants.”

He laughed. “Oh, yeah. That.” He got up. “Be right back. Don’t move.”

As if she was going anywhere. It was warm where she was curled up, and the faint scent of sex hung in the air, making her smile.

Food arrived shortly, and she dived in along with him.

His phone dinged, and he glanced at it. “Jeremy sent me an email. It’s about you.”

Crap. She reached out, taking the phone. “I’d wanted to wait until tomorrow to tell you. Ezra said Jeremy would wait but not forever.”

“What’s up?” Paddy frowned but shoved half of the roll he’d just buttered into his face and in that moment, she loved him so much, enough to just share without hesitation. It felt so wonderful and real to unburden herself with him, like as a normal part of her relationship. Maybe she wasn’t so damned broken, after all.

“My father spoke to some crappy tabloid. Made out like he was the injured party, and I was a drug-addicted slutty slut bagging a rock star and ignoring his attempts to reach out. The poor single father who had worked his whole life to raise me right.”

Paddy’s frown went away, and he very calmly put his fork down. “He said what?”

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