Rowdy Page 12

  He didn’t say anything else, just started walking in the direction of the bedroom, forcing me to match him step for step as he waltzed me backward. The bluesy and folksy sound of Old Crow Medicine Show wafted out of the bedroom, guiding his way in the right direction.

  “I stink.” His voice was gruff and sent chills racing up and down my spine as we backed into the darkened bedroom. My bed wasn’t even made and half of my wardrobe was lying across the floor. None of it slowed him down as he kept his pace going until the back of my legs hit the edge of my bed.

  I wrapped my fingers around each of his tattooed wrists and gazed up at him. I licked my bottom lip and he groaned.

  “I kind of like it.”

  “Shit.” It wasn’t really a word, more just an exhalation of sound, and then his mouth was on mine and nothing else mattered anymore. There was nothing more than the way he made me feel and the way that all the wildness and restlessness that always hounded me seemed to fade away under his lips and at his touch.

  He kissed me hard. He kissed me long. He kissed me breathless and then he pulled back and did it again from another angle. The boy was good with his mouth, so good that I didn’t notice the fact that his hands had found their way to the hem of my dress and the fabric was slowly being inched up the outside of my legs. His tongue twisted around mine, his teeth nipped at the tip of it, and I gasped loudly in the quiet when his big hands closed over either side of my naked backside. Maybe I had been planning for it all along, but putting anything on under my dress after my shower had seemed like a useless step when I knew I would be taking it off for him at some point.

  “Nice.” There was nothing but appreciation in his tone and his breathing kicked up a notch as his bare chest moved against mine.

  He released one side of my ass and ran his hand up my spine so that he could undo the long zipper that held the cute frock closed. I moved my hair out of the way for him, and between one sigh and the next I was naked in front of him and he was obviously enjoying my curved form. He swore again and reached out a fingertip to touch one of the small silver hoops that decorated both of my nipples. They capped the dusky peaks and glittered with a ruby jewel that matched the one above my lip.

  He let go of my rear end completely and used his thumbs to trace across the big lotus flower that marked one side of my hipbone and the arching, sprawling cherry blossom that decorated the other. They were both delicately done and popped brightly against my dark skin.

  “Beauty against all odds and the fragility of life.” His voice was hushed as he bent down and dropped a kiss on my clavicle.

  “I guess that’s one advantage of getting naked with a tattoo artist—it cuts down on the show-and-tell.”

  He laughed a little and I felt it all the way to my core because he was bending me over one of his arms that he had snaked behind my back and using my new arched position to circle each pierced nipple with his tongue. I was pretty sure nothing in my entire life had ever felt that awesome. Each peak puckered and pulled at the attention, and when he used his teeth and sucked the little metal ring into his mouth, it made them hot and wet when they landed back against my skin. I really thought I was going to die from sensation overload.

  I was clutching at his shoulders to try and stay somewhat grounded and not totally get lost in the pleasure when he moved a single step closer and I lost my balance and toppled over onto my back, hitting the mattress with a little bounce. He was looming over me and the smile on his face couldn’t be called anything but wicked.

  He kissed my breastbone right between the full swell of each breast and drew a moist line all the way down the center of my body with his tongue, stopping to dip it in my navel and to put biting little kisses on each of my tattoos that framed the very exposed, very sensitive part of my body he was obviously heading toward.

  “Rowdy . . .” It was part question, part demand because I was ready for him. I felt like I had been waiting for this, for him to put his hands on me, for him to put his mouth on me forever, even though it had only been a handful of weeks.

  He blew out a breath that made my already damp folds quiver in need and I felt him chuckle against the soft skin of my stomach.

  “I’ve heard you say my name in a lot of ways, Salem. Gotta say hearing you say it in bed when I’m about to eat you up is probably my favorite to date.”

  I was going to tell him to go to hell but lost the ability to think, to speak, when without any warning he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed and pulled me to his face. It was too much. Too intimate. Too invasive and intense. It was the best thing ever. The boy really was beyond good with his mouth.

  He ran his tongue the entire length of my opening. He put my legs over his shoulders and gripped my ass in hard hands as he explored every inch of my quaking and spasming inside with his mouth. I squirmed on the bed, the pleasure almost too much to handle as he used the edge of his teeth on my clit. Sensation raced along every nerve ending I had and I couldn’t breathe past everything I was feeling.

  I got a handful of his hair to keep me tethered in the moment and must have given it a harder yank than I intended because he hissed out a breath that I felt on every damp surface of skin I had between my legs. He muttered something dark and sexy that I couldn’t make out and snaked one of his hands from my rear to the front, and just as he trapped that little tiny bud of desire between his teeth and sucked—hard—he maneuvered his very talented digits in to replace his stroking and seeking tongue and I lost my mind.

  The double stimulation, the twist and twirl of his strong fingers combined with the relentless suction of his hot mouth, was too much to take. There was no buildup, no steady climb to a blissful orgasm. No, instead it all barreled at me in a blinding rush that swept me away on a wave of overwhelming pleasure and release. It made him chuckle again, which had ripples of undiluted gratification chasing the sound along all the sensitive flesh he was still manipulating and playing with.

  I had never had an orgasm that actually made me hurt before. It hurt so good that I felt it in every cell, in every breath, in every blink as I peeled my eyes open and tried to remember where I was, who I was, and who I was with.

  I still had ahold of his hair, so I gave it a tug to get him to let up on all my quaking folds. He let my legs slide limply off his shoulders and crawled up the bed so that he was hovering over me. He braced himself over me with his hands on either side of my head as he smirked down at me. He looked entirely too pleased with himself.

  “Oh, Salem . . .” He let out a long sigh and bent to kiss me on the temple. “You’re without a doubt going to me make so glad we’re both all grown up.”

  That was the sweet, flirty side of him he usually reserved for everyone else but me. I knew it for exactly what it was. A way to keep this on a light and playful level. A way to keep it in perspective, because even though I had been the one on the receiving end of his attentions while he teased and played with me, I knew he had felt the deeper connection we had, too. There was doubt that something was happening between us that had shades of the past and flavors of the future all mixed together in one giant ball of emotion and experience.

  I rubbed my hands on his cheeks, let my fingers tickle the soft brush of his sideburns, and used my thumb to brush along the damp curve of his lower lip. I trailed my hands across his broad shoulders and over the defined planes of his tattooed pecs. I traced the words scrolled there and met his gaze solemnly. “Grown-up Rowdy has definite parts I like, but so did boy-next-door Rowdy.”

  I saw him turn that over in his head for a minute, but I was well on my way to getting his belt unbuckled and his jeans out of my way, so if he had a response it was lost as I tried to get him as naked as I was. He had on black boxer briefs and I took a second to appreciate how good he looked half stripped with the straining head of his cock poking out of the waistband of his underwear. I wasn’t the only one with some hidden surprises under my clothes. I pushed his garments down to his knees and urged him to roll over on hi
s back. He did and stacked his hands behind his head with his erection pointed up at the ceiling while I checked out everything he was working with down there.

  I felt both of my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “A magic cross?” I had been in the body modification business for a while, and had seen my share of dicks wearing adornment. I had to say this was a first, however. I was intrigued by his hardware and turned on by it at the same time.

  Across the plump and ready head was a vertical apadravya piercing that left the top of the barbell visible both above and below the head. Running horizontally and just a little bit behind the apa was an ampallang piercing that, combined with the first, gave the appearance of a cross through the head of Rowdy’s cock. That meant there were four little shiny balls of delight resting on the surface of his already impressive erection, making any experience with him magical indeed.

  “One of my closest friends is a body piercer. Not often do you find someone you trust enough to let them get close to your junk with a sharp and pointy object.”

  I used my thumb to circle between the points and watched as the action made his eyes glaze over. His stomach muscles went taut and the thighs I was sitting on tensed and released as I brushed across each ball with my finger. He looked good naked. We looked good together naked. I liked the way our ink blended together into one giant mural. I pressed into him and moved my hand to grab the rest of his shaft in a firm grip. I also liked the way the nontattooed parts of us contrasted together. I was burnished and dark, he was golden and fair. I squeezed him around the base of his erection and used my other hand to pet the tight lines of his stomach. I’d never been with someone as pretty as Rowdy St. James and I wanted to enjoy every tactile sensation I could.

  I let him go and snaked my hand between his legs just a little bit to rub his tightly drawn sac.

  He barked out my name and jackknifed up at the caress. I guess playtime was over.

  He shucked off his shoes and shimmied out of the rest of his clothes, a sight I wish I could just watch forever, and prowled toward me, his eyes glowing like a lighthouse signal trying to tell me he was where home was all along.

  “Condom?”

  I scooted over on the bed and fished around in the bedside table until I found one. I tore it open and motioned him closer. He took a step between my spread legs and dropped a kiss on the top of my head as I worked the latex over him and over all that metal. I gave him one last squeeze for good measure and he whispered into my hair, “One isn’t going to cut it.”

  “I did promise you the weekend.” I was suddenly thankful neither one of us had anything else to do until we went back to work on Tuesday.

  “Thank God.” He pulled me up and over him, let me adjust myself into position as he rubbed his palms up and down my ribs. I sank down so that just the pierced tip of him dragged across my swollen folds, and we both groaned at the contact. Those little metal balls made every move I made, every way he shifted and flexed against me, even more intense. I felt him in every part of me as I set myself all the way down and fell forward on my hands so I could get at his mouth with my own.

  I kissed him the same way he kissed me—hard, consuming—with tongues dancing and breaths mingling as his fingers dug into the rounded curve of my hips and forced me to start moving up and down.

  At first it was a sexy glide that had us both panting and our fingers clenching into one another. He felt so good, and the way he looked at me, it was turning me inside out and I was having a hard time trying to keep a steady rhythm. I rose up on my knees a little higher as we ground into each other and then let my head fall back on a breathless gasp when one of his hands suddenly disappeared between my legs where we were joined and zeroed in on that hot spot he seemed to be able to find every single time.

  My hair pooled in a black puddle across the top of his legs as I started to frantically move on him. Between the stroke of his fingers, the friction of the barbells, and just the general drag and pull from his cock, it didn’t take too long for me to feel the end racing up on me.

  He said my name and his free hand left my waist to cup one of my breasts. He brushed his thumb back and forth across the tight and achy point until I was seeing stars and having a really hard time holding on to any kind of regular motion. Pleasure was riding hard at the base of my spine, my skin was glowing and slick with exertion and the need to let go. If he didn’t catch up I was going to go over the edge without him and I wasn’t going to feel bad about it.

  I squealed in surprise when he moved rapidly and flipped us over. He used a knee to shove my legs farther apart to make room for him to move as he swiveled his hips in a way that made my eyes cross as he picked up his pace as soon as he was situated in the new position. He caught my hands in one of his and stretched them up and over my head. The other he used to brace his weight as he thrust and pounded into me like he was chasing all the desire he had built up between us to claim as his own. The pressure of his thick cock in my swollen channel was already enough to have me ready to come, but the added sensation of those metal balls dragging and massaging along every wall, every nerve ending, and I was sure he was going to have my head exploding on top of having a body breaking apart in a blinding orgasm. Rowdy let his head fall so that it was resting in the crook of my neck and I felt the sharp sting of his teeth in the delicate skin there, and that was all it took for it to be over for me.

  I felt my inner walls grab him, felt the bottom drop out of his control, and suddenly he was moving just as desperately and frantically as I had been. I loved the way his heart thundered in tune with my own. I loved the way his strong body bowed and felt like stone all along my much softer curves. I loved the way he panted his completion in my ear and the way he collapsed on top of me when he was all wrung out and empty. I loved that sex with him was everything that sex should be and then some. He was really good with a lot more than just his mouth and had just shown me everything I had been searching for when I set off blindly for Colorado.

  It might be wild, uninhibited, and a little dirty, but sex with him still felt like a safer place than I had ever been before.

  He hefted himself up in a push-up and I shamelessly watched the way it made his biceps bulge.

  “Probably the best touchdown I can ever remember.” He was trying to make a joke but his eyes were dead serious, so I didn’t answer. I just lifted a hand and cupped his cheek while we watched each other.

  It was a nice moment, another sweet memory that I could tuck away and add to the ones I already had because of him, but it was broken by the keening whine of a puppy.

  I sucked in a breath as Rowdy moved off of me and rolled to look over the edge of the bed.

  “I think we might have scandalized him.” He scooped up the dog and put him on the bed as he swung his long legs over and rose to his feet. “I forgot all about him when I saw you licking that damn knife.”

  I had forgotten about him, too. I was a terrible puppy mom. Jimbo licked my chin and he did indeed look like he was giving Rowdy a jealous-puppy-dog glare.

  “I made some sandwiches. I’ll let him out and we can eat.”

  He nodded and looked back over his shoulder at me with a flash of white teeth.

  “Now ask me if I won, Salem.”

  I groaned and threw a pillow at his smug face. “I think we both won, smartass.”

  He went toward the bathroom laughing the entire way.

  CHAPTER 9

  Rowdy

  I DIDN’T LEAVE SALEM’S place until it was time for me to go back to work on Tuesday. By then we were both worn out, and the idea that it was just some down and dirty sex to get the urge gone was a joke.

  All the reasons I had adored her, needed her, admired her when I was younger came back in a knee-weakening flash right on top of the fact that no girl ever in my extensive history of fooling around had ever blown my mind in bed the way Salem did. She was funny. She was quick and sharp tongued. She was wicked street-smart and called things plainly as she saw them but that nev
er made her seem harsh. She was also sweet, sexy as all hell, and absolutely the most beautiful thing I had ever seen stripped naked and writhing under me. If ever there was a friend I wanted to have benefits with, it was her.

  I was also grateful she had let our weekend together pass without a single mention of the elephant in the room—her sister. We joked around about Texas, talked about some of the good things we both remembered, and basically tried to cram a decade of catching up into two days between bouts of sex that made me hot and bothered thinking about them. We reminisced about Phil and compared the tattoos he had left on us to remember him by. For her it was an intricately done Lady of Guadalupe—the patron saint of Mexico—a shout-out to her heritage and traditional tattooing. Mine was the memorial tattoo for my mom. Considering Phil was the only other parental figure I had ever had in my life, it seemed fitting he was the one to pay homage to my late mother with his craft.

  Salem just got me. She got my art and why it was so much more important to me than football had ever been. It was nice to spend time with someone that I didn’t have to try and justify all my life choices to. It also kind of nice to spend more than one day with the same girl even if I was scared of getting too close, of ending up too wrapped up in her because she had a history of leaving. I didn’t tell her any of that, though, because I didn’t want to put a damper on the time we had together.

  When I worked at the new shop for my shift on Wednesday it was a little awkward. Mostly because I wanted to bend her over the front desk and plow into her over and over again. She kept things professional but far more pleasant than they had been when we worked together up to this point. She asked me if I wanted to go to lunch with her, and while my idea of lunch would’ve been a quickie in the backseat of my SUV, I agreed to go with her anyway, and having burgers and fries turned out to be almost as enjoyable as the quickie would’ve been. I really did like hanging out with her. I always had.