Page 15 of A Way Out (Rock Star #2)

Chapter Fourteen

O z’s body felt exactly as she’d been fantasizing. Hard. Strong. Smooth. Tantalizing.

Maria wrapped her arms around his back, her hands splayed on his hot, bare skin. His tongue thrust into her mouth while his hips rotated, the thin barriers of his boxers rasping against her silky panties.

“Maria.” Her name, whispered across his lips, was an aphrodisiac. She moaned.

“Shhh,” he said into her ear. “We have to be quiet. We don’t want to wake anyone.”

Especially Riley. The child had never stumbled upon her parents having sex, and Maria certainly didn’t need to break that streak now.

Oz bit her ear. Not hard, but with enough insistence to pull her attention back to the task at hand. Then he licked the sting, and she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning again.

He trailed kisses across her cheek, back to her mouth, that silver hoop a mind-bending contrast of cool hardness compared to his soft, warm lips.

He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, before pushing himself up onto his forearms and staring down at her like he was admiring a priceless treasure.

He wasn’t even touching her—okay, okay, his hips were still doing that slow rotation that was both torturous and delicious, but other than that, he was simply looking at her and she was growing more hot and more bothered by the nanosecond.

Arching, she thrust her breasts up impatiently. He dropped his gaze and grinned. Trailing a finger along the scalloped edge of her bra, he murmured, “Do these lovely ladies need some attention?”

“Yes.” It came out as a desperate gasp.

She knew she shouldn’t compare the two men—and she’d stop, right after this—but Vic had never talked in bed. He’d never told her she was beautiful or that he was enjoying himself or asked if she wanted him to touch her in a specific place.

She had no idea that talking during sex was so damn sexy.

Oz’s grin turned decidedly wicked before he dropped his head and followed the trail his finger had just taken—with his tongue.

“Oh. My.” Hopefully, Oz didn’t expect her to talk much in return, because she could hardly form a coherent word.

His hand slipped behind her back, and with an expert flick of his fingers, unhooked her bra. He drew his hand back, bringing the strap with him, effectively peeling the stretchy, lacy piece of clothing away from her body.

Smiling, he tossed the contraption over his shoulder.

Propping himself on one arm, he cupped her breast from the underside, his fingers sliding upward through the valley between both breasts, then his palm scraped across her sensitive nipple, like he was trying to memorize the shape. Her nipples, already hard, sharpened to the point of pain.

“Rosy,” he murmured, tracing her areola. “I’ve been wondering what color they were.”

He’d been thinking about her breasts? Maria squeezed her eyes shut and arched again.

“You like that? The idea that I’ve wanted you all this time?”

“Y-yes.” Her entire body quivered.

“Does the idea make you wet?”

She’d been wet courtesy of her own fantasies. About him. Which she might have told him, except at that moment, his hand skated down, over her abdomen, until he cupped her sex, and her brain short-circuited.

“Open your eyes, Maria.”

She blinked them open. His fingers slipped under the edge of her panties, and then one of them slid through her folds. She was certain her mouth fell open, even as she maintained eye contact.

“So wet,” he murmured while his fingers explored. “All for me.”

“Y-yes,” she croaked out, which was apparently all she could manage.

He smiled. “I’ll be right back.” After pressing a kiss to her lips, he shimmied down her body. She flung her arms up and grasped the headboard, lifting her gaze to the ceiling.

“Look at me, Maria,” Oz said from where he was now positioned between her thighs, his face so close to her sex that she could feel his breath stroke over her. Somehow, he’d managed to divest her of her underwear.

“Watch me bring you to climax,” he said.

She groaned. “If I do, I won’t last long.”

He grinned. “This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing. We have all night.”

She caught his gaze and held it as he lowered his face, stuck out his tongue, and dragged it through her seam.

Her body tensed. She clung to the headboard and kept watching him, her chest heaving, while he licked and nibbled and suckled—yes, that tiny hoop most definitely enhanced the experience—and then added his fingers, two of them thrusting into her, mimicking sex.

The orgasm slammed into her; she’d known it was coming and yet it swamped her, surprised her with its intensity.

The aftershocks were still quaking through her body when she grasped him by the shoulders and rolled him onto his back.

“Condom,” she demanded. She was on birth control but was in too much of a hurry to pause to have that conversation. Maybe next time. Right now, she needed him inside her.

He shoved his boxers down his legs, plucked his wallet off the bedside table, and pulled out a square packet. Tearing it open, he stroked himself a few times—all while staring at her face—before expertly sliding the condom over his erection.

Good Lord, she was twisted so tightly, she was nearly ready to orgasm again.

Straddling him, she wrapped her hand around the root of his erection, squeezing. His eyes flared while he sucked in a harsh breath.

She loved feeling like she was the center of his world. Like this moment, what they were about to do next, was exactly what he’d been living for. His focus was so heady.

“Fuck me, Maria.”

“Oh God.” She whimpered. And then she positioned him and slid down onto his hard length, groaning as her body stretched to accommodate his girth.

He moaned. Rolled his hips. Kept his eyes wide open, watching her. “So damn tight.” He slid his hands over her hips, cupping her in that crease between her butt cheek and the back of her thigh, applying pressure and guiding her into a slow, steady rhythm.

He never broke eye contact.

She did momentarily, but only because the second orgasm was so intense, she threw her head back and squeezed her eyes shut as it rolled over her, wave after wave, until she was positively wrung out.

And then her eyes flew back open as Oz abruptly flipped her onto her back, her head hanging over the edge of the bed. Kneeling between her legs, he clutched her thighs, pulling them up to his waist, and began thrusting into her with earnest, hard and fast and erratic and oh so, so good.

She held onto his forearms; they were taut, the muscles stretched tight.

A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead as he continued to pump, harder and faster.

He clenched his teeth, holding her gaze fiercely, until he gave a brief shout and thrust one last time, freezing like that for a moment before lowering his forehead to her chest.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed the top of his head. Was it appropriate to thank him?

Because that had been the best experience of her life, hands down.

Maria was hot when she woke in the morning. That wasn’t anything new; she’d been sharing a bed with Riley for a week now, and that child was a little hot box.

This was a different kind of hot, though. Yes, it was due to another body in the bed, but it wasn’t Riley. It was someone much bigger. Harder. Stronger. Hotter.

She stretched, making a noise that almost sounded like a purr.

Oz’s arms tightened around her, and she rolled over to face him, a smile spreading across her face.

He wasn’t smiling.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Had she been that terrible at sex? He’d certainly seemed pleased last night.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Everything.” His grip tightened again, like he was afraid she’d slip away.

“Everything?” Maybe she did need to slip away.

Finally, he released her so he could roll onto his back and throw one of his arms across his forehead. “We both know we should not have done that.”

“We do?”

He gave her a one-eyed glare from under his arm. “You’re my boss now, remember?”

That wasn’t technically true, but she said, “And you don’t find sleeping with the boss fantasies sexy?”

“This isn’t funny, Maria.”

“No, it should be glorious.” She rolled onto her back and balanced her upper body on her forearms, completely unbothered by the fact that her breasts were hanging right there in plain sight, not six inches from his body. “We should be basking right now.” She had been, until he woke up.

“We can’t let anyone know this happened.”

“What is this, high school? Are we going to get in trouble?” She’d not ever had that experience—she hadn’t slept with anyone until she met Vic at twenty-one—but she had gone to school with at least one girl who had. And everybody knew. And everybody gossiped about her behind her back.

Maria couldn’t imagine the situation would be remotely the same if the members of the two bands found out they’d slept together.

Oz sat up, bunching the sheet in his lap. “We got it out of our system. Now we can focus on what’s important. Making this band a success. That’s what you want, right?”

“Well, yes, but…” She’d thought they were important too. It hadn’t occurred to her that this might be a one-night thing.

He’d even said as much, although he’d been referring to the number of times they would have sex last night.

They’d done it twice, which had resulted in four orgasms for Maria, so he hadn’t been wrong.

Would she have come into his bedroom, propositioned him, if she’d realized his intentions? Even now, even as he spewed hurtful words, she was still attracted to him. This pull between them was no joke.

Which was unfortunate, since it was clear he had no intention of sleeping with her again.

She’d been so bold last night. So brave. She’d come in here and taken what she craved. She hadn’t waited for him to tell her what he wanted; she’d made it clear what she liked, and he’d been happy to do whatever she requested. It had been heady and oh so sexy.

Now, suddenly, in the light of the morning—okay, it wasn’t even fully light yet—she had doubts. Doubts he was putting in her head.

She couldn’t be bold anymore. She wasn’t brave.

“Right.” She slid out of bed, grateful for the muted light as she scooped up her clothes.

She held the shirt, leggings, and panties—no idea where her bra had landed, and she had zero desire to take the time to search for it—to her chest as she walked into the bathroom and straight through to her bedroom, where her daughter was still sleeping, spread-eagle, on the bed.

She closed the door. Locked it. And then she pulled on her pajamas and curled into a ball next to Riley and willed the tears not to fall.

She’d obviously managed to doze off because she woke with a start when Riley rolled over and flopped on top of her. It was not easy sharing a bed with a toddler, FYI.

A halo of light ringed the curtain Maria had pulled across the glass door, and another strip stretched into the room from the hall.

The bathroom door was dark.

Sliding out from under her daughter, Maria stepped over to the glass door and shifted the curtain aside just enough to see outside.

Cash was on the deck below, seated at a glass top table with a coffee mug at his elbow.

He was writing in a notebook—seemed that was a piece of equipment no musician left home without.

Parker stepped into view, wearing gym shorts and a loose tank top, his hair tucked into a man bun. He said something to Cash, who shrugged, and then stood a moment later, and the two men walked away.

There was a soft knock on her bedroom door, and Maria jumped. Oz. Except he’d knock on the bathroom door, wouldn’t he?

She hurried across the room to check.

“Morning,” Holly said, lifting two cups with steam curling from the tops. “Want one?”

Maria opened the door wider.

“Thanks,” she said, accepting the mug. She took a sip. “Perfect.”

“That’s all Sam. Making perfect coffee is his love language or something, except it took me seven years to realize it.” Holly chuckled at her own folly.

What was Oz’s love language?

What did she care?

“I’m surprised Riley isn’t up yet,” Holly said.

“She’s all messed up from the time zone difference.”

And Maria was all messed up from that conversation earlier this morning.

“Are you okay?” Holly asked, peering at her.

No way was Maria going to dump on her sister the day before her wedding. “Yep. Just tired. Time zones.” She waved at the bed. How lucky it was that she’d gotten up early and came back to her own bed. What if Holly had opened the door and found Riley here sleeping alone?

How would Oz have reacted if Holly had figured out they’d slept together?

Didn’t matter now, did it?

“Well, drink that—it’ll help.” Holly nodded at the mug in Maria’s hand. “And then get ready to go. We have a big day today.”

“We do?”

“Lots of errands. Lots of girl stuff.”

Girl stuff. That likely meant Oz would not be involved. Which was a good thing.

“Who’s all going?” she asked anyway.

“You, me, Riley, Lacey, Kerry, and my mother-in-law.”

Whew. No Oz. “What about Ava?”

A flicker of sadness flashed in Holly’s eyes. “She isn’t coming. Couldn’t take the time off work. A big project, I guess.”

Impulsively, Maria pulled her sister into a hug. Holly clung to her. God, this felt good. She supposed if she could find one thing to appreciate about her short-lived relationship with Oz, it was that his family had taught her that hugging was a worthy activity.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

Holly pulled away and shook her head. “It’s okay. I sort of expected it. I just thought maybe she’d changed, too, since Grandma’s funeral.”

“She’ll come around,” Maria said. “It will take longer, though. She has a lot more of Dad in her than we do. She needs to figure out that work isn’t the be-all and end-all. Then we’ll be able to form a relationship with her.”

“Wow, that’s very wise.”

Maria sipped her coffee, letting the caffeine chase away the remnants of sadness over whatever wasn’t going to happen with Oz.

“I’ve spent the last year analyzing my own marriage, and I realize Vic and I basically emulated our parents.

So then I analyzed our parents, and I think Dad works as much as he does so he doesn’t have to admit he doesn’t love his wife. Or maybe his life. Or maybe both.”

“Ouch. Although you aren’t wrong.”

“Okay, enough of this melancholy. It’s the eve of your wedding day. We’re supposed to be happy.”

“I am happy. All my favorite people are here for my big day.”

Maria hugged her again. She had a lot of years of not-hugging to make up for.

“Get my niece up and get ready. Oz is downstairs making breakfast. And then we are off to do all the girly things.”

“You got it.”

Holly left the room.

Hey, at least Maria knew Oz wouldn’t accidentally walk into the bathroom while she was in the shower.

Shame.