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Twelve

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Steve grinned at the excitement on Roux’s face as she watched out the jet’s window. His stomach sank in protest as the wheels lifted off the ground and they went airborne. She probably thought he was taking her to some exotic, private island where they could frolic naked in the surf without a care, but they weren’t going there until tomorrow. Today their destination was far more important to him, and he was certain she’d recognize that. He wanted this woman’s heart, and after seeing her around the diverse group of girls and young women that she considered sisters—and the remarkable woman who’d taken them into her home and heart—he was pretty sure he knew how to win Roux’s affection. Once the spiritual connection between them cemented, then he’d do something about the physical aspects of their attraction, assuming she’d allow the level of intimacy he craved. She provided him with a challenge he hadn’t had to deal with in a long while, and he found her unusual mix of passion and restraint irresistible.

She turned her head to smile at him. “Won’t you at least give me a little hint?”

“You said I should surprise you,” he said, unable to stop himself from taking her hand, which was resting on the leather-covered armrest between them.

She turned away from the window and leaned her upper arm against his. “Now that I have you alone, tell me all about yourself.”

All about himself? He didn’t want to scare her off. Not when he’d finally made some progress, but he did want someone who could love him despite his flaws, maybe even because of them. Was she someone capable of that degree of devotion? He licked his lips and lowered his gaze to the cream-colored leather on the back of the seat in front of him.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Oh. So this was about trivialities. Not the important stuff. He could handle that. He turned to her and wrapped a lock of her hair around one finger. “Red.” He lifted his finger to his mouth and kissed the coppery strands of her hair. When his gaze met her gold-rimmed green eyes, he reconsidered, his hand moving to cup her face. “And green. And gold.”

“Do you have indecisive tendencies?”

You’re my favorite color.”

Her cheek warmed beneath his fingertips. “I can’t decide if you say such things because you’re romantic or you know exactly how to make a girl lose her head.”

An amused huff escaped him. “What if it’s a little of both?”

She licked her lips and rubbed her teeth over the full bottom curve of her mouth, a sure sign that she was thinking about being kissed. He’d keep her waiting a while, the way she’d kept him waiting all last week. “What’s your favorite color?”

“It’s always been red, but now I think maybe it’s you.”

She laughed, the sound delighting him deep into his soul.

“It sounded sexy when you said it, but ridiculous coming out of my mouth.”

He shook his head. “Everything about your mouth is sexy.” His thumb brushed her lower lip, and she shuddered, her eyelashes lowering to veil her gorgeous eyes. A surge of lust flooded his groin, and he decided if he was going to get through this entire flight with his dick in his pants, he’d have to stop touching her.

“We’ve reached cruising altitude,” Jordan announced over the intercom. “Feel free to move about the cabin.”

Steve unfastened his seat belt, and though every instinct told him to pounce on the bewildered-looking woman beside him, he stood and went to the small minibar near the closed cockpit.

“Would you like something to drink? A snack?”

Steve wasn’t sure he’d ever be hungry again after that enormous breakfast Mama Ramona had insisted they eat before they left that morning. Zach had still been stuffing his face when Steve and Roux said their goodbyes and left him to his own devices among the dozen or so females at the table.

Steve opened the cabinet and flinched at the variety of alcoholic beverages inside. The fridge wasn’t much better, but he was glad to find mixers like orange juice and club soda.

“We have water. Juice. Soda.”

He started when a hand settled on the small of his back. He hadn’t heard her leave her seat.

“You know what I want,” she said.

She was not making this easy on him.

He swallowed against the sudden dryness of his mouth, wondering what in the hell he had to be nervous about. He knew his way around the female anatomy. It was the heart he had trouble with. “Water?”

“You,” she said, her hand sliding down his belly.

“We might get around to that later.” Her sexually aggressive behavior reminded him of most of the women in his life, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. When her hand brushed against the inside of his hipbone and his dick leapt to full attention, there was no mistaking that his body liked it, but his baser impulses never had his overall best interests in mind.

“Later? Are you really not interested in initiating me into the Mile High Club?”

He took her questing hand and shifted it to the hard ridge struggling to burst free of his fly. He groaned as lust swirled through him, shredding his limited control. He sucked in a breath, trying desperately to collect the tattered remains of control. “Does that answer your question?”

“Then what is it?” she asked. “Are you mad at me for not calling you sooner?”

“Yes,” he admitted, then he shook his head. “And no. Your self-restraint is a complete turn-on.”

Her sensual lips turned up at one corner. “That’s funny. Your complete lack of restraint does the same for me.”

The shreds of his self-control slipped entirely from his grasp. His hands rubbed over the gentle curve of her ass, drawing her hip against his aching groin. She pressed her soft breasts against his chest, lips parting as she strained her mouth toward his. Heat radiated from her center, and he shifted his thigh between her legs, seeking the fire building within her. He’d probably get burned, but damned if he lacked the control to turn away from it. Before he completely gave in to the mindless desire consuming him, he clutched handfuls of her hair. Her eyes fluttered open, the green-gold gaze smoldering and inquisitive in the same instant. A shudder raced through him.

“If we do this, everything will change between us,” he said. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Don’t try to convince me that you haven’t ever had a frivolous weekend fling before, Steven Aimes.”

Was that what this was to her? A frivolous weekend fling?

“I want more than that.” He bit his lip. He hadn’t meant to admit that to her. Such an omission made him vulnerable. He hated feeling vulnerable.

She touched his face, a gentle smile on her lips. “We can’t be together during the tour,” she said.

This again. “Your rule, not mine.”

Her head inclined slightly. “Yes, my rule. But this weekend I have no rules, so you can think of this as a trial run. We can both figure out if this heat between us is worth pursuing after the tour is over. I thought I could wait.” Her hand slid down his belly and unfastened the top button of his fly. “But since I last saw you, every minute of every day is invaded by thoughts of you, and I don’t think I can function in that condition without at least knowing the constant distraction is worth it.”

“And you’re betting that it’s not,” he said, releasing the tangle of her hair, taking her hand and shifting it back to his cock.

“That’s not a wager I’m willing to place without more evidence.”

Steve groaned as her hand stroked him through his jeans. Why was he even trying to fight this?

He knew why. He still wanted more from her than a frivolous weekend of sex, but they could start with that and build from there. All he had to do was make sure her thoughts never cleared of him. Shouldn’t be all that hard to accomplish, even on tour. Especially on tour. He felt like he ruled the world while he was on tour. There was no way she’d be able to resist him when he was in that frame of mind.

Roux tugged his shirt up his belly, and Steve leaned back to help her draw it over his head. She leaned forward to pepper his chest with kisses, her hands fumbling with her leggings as she slid them off over her butt; she kicked them, her flat shoes, and panties aside. Holy hell. Once she made up her mind, she was all in. She pressed her hands against his shoulders.

“I want your mouth on me,” she said.

“We both want that,” he said, sinking to his knees and lifting her leg to rest on his shoulder.

His mouth watered at the smell of her sex; his balls tightened in response to her heat. He parted his lips to draw her clean-shaven pussy into his mouth, his tongue prepared to work her swollen clit. The floor dipped beneath him, and he grabbed her ass with one hand and the countertop with his other to steady them.

The intercom crackled, and Jordan’s sultry, accented voice said, “We’ve hit some nasty turbulence. Buckle up and prepare for a bumpy ride for the next thirty minutes or so.”

Steve was prepared to ignore the warning, but Roux was struggling to free herself from his grasp. She launched herself into her seat and fumbled with her seat belt, gorgeous eyes wide, fair complexion downright ghostly. Steve ran a hand over his face, trying to find the strength to climb to his feet.

The plane dipped again, and Roux whimpered. “Come put on your seat belt,” she said, grasping both armrests with a white-knuckled grip. “And bring my pants.”

He grinned. He’d been on enough flights that turbulence didn’t bother him much. “Come get them,” he said.

“Don’t be a dick. I’m half naked here.”

“I can fix that.” He crawled over to her seat, grateful for the immense amount of legroom in the luxury jet. Kneeling between her feet, he pulled her top off over her head and, before she could gather her wits enough to stop him, removed her bra as well.

“Now you’re all naked,” he said.

Every inch of her was perfection, especially the unique nuances of her flesh that most would label imperfections. He planned to get to know every part of her exterior intimately—from the round, puckered scar between her luscious breasts to the large flat mole on her hip to the pale blue paths of the vessels just beneath her fair skin—before he delved into her interior. He was especially enjoying the critical glare in her gold and green eyes as she raised an eyebrow.

“And how will the rescue crew who scrapes me off the ground after we crash explain my nakedness?”

“We aren’t going to crash.” He leaned forward and drew the tip of his tongue over her nipple.

“Steve, I’m not in the mood anymore.”

He grinned. “I can fix that too.”

His leisurely lick shifted to a powerful suction and there was no mistaking her gasp of excitement. Easy fix. He kissed his way to the scar made by the tragedy that had almost ended her and rested his lips there gently. He’d wanted to press his lips to that very spot since the moment she’d revealed her past, but now that he’d made that desire a reality, he had a hard time coming to terms with the sudden knot in his throat. To think someone who was supposed to love this treasure of a woman unconditionally had scarred her so severely—inside and out—had him pressing his forehead to the center of her chest and breathing through the tangle of emotion he was starting to relish. God, it had been so long since he’d allowed himself to feel like this. To care so much about a woman. It had been too long. And it might end up being much longer because he knew how severely it hurt when someone you loved with your entirety tore your fucking heart out.

Whoa. Step back. He hadn’t even fucked Roux yet, and his emotions were bouncing around like a drop of sweat on a drum skin. He, Steve the Callous, was entertaining thoughts of love. Was he ready to take a chance? A chance with this woman he scarcely knew but felt he’d always known? Would he be able to let Roux in, the way he’d let Bianca in? Let her see all of him? Not just the cool parts that he showed the world, but also the lame parts, the twisted parts, the gentle parts, and even the vulnerable parts. He’d soon know if she was worth his confidence, his utter devotion, and the potential heartache, because he’d never learned to love any other way. He was an all or nothing sort of guy, and he knew it. The realization scared the shit out of him.

“Did you fall asleep?” she murmured.

Fuck. How long had he been resting there thinking? Feeling? Why was he so crazy about her?

“God, I’m crazy about you.”

What? No. Don’t say thoughts like that out loud. Why would he say such a stupid thing? Thinking it was bad enough. He lifted his head and met her eyes, part of him wanting her to freak out and tell him to leave her alone, most of him hoping, praying, that she returned his feelings. Even a little.

“Is that why you’re making out with my scar instead of eating me out?”

Her delectable lips twisted into a sexually charged grin, and the answering surge of lust that flooded his groin made him light-headed.

“So you’re up for a little oral?”

A smoldering look darkened her eyes. “If you’re good at it”—her tongue wet her lips—“I’m up for a lot of oral.”

If he was good at it. If.

He hesitated, realizing she was leading him by the nose, and wondering why the fuck it turned him on so much. If he was good at it. He’d show her if. He’d make her come so fast and so hard, he’d be wearing her cum as a beard. If he was good at it. Please.

He swallowed and glanced down to her slightly parted thighs and bit his lip.

He hoped he was as good as past lovers claimed. He never could tell when a woman was inflating his ego or telling him the truth. What if every woman he’d ever touched had faked getting off?

Nah. Not possible.

Besides, why was he worried about that now? Maybe because he wanted Roux to be up for a lot of oral, not just a little. He trailed his hands up her silky bare legs, starting at her ankles, up a pair of shapely calves, behind her knees.

The plane dipped suddenly, and she gasped, fingers clutching at the armrests. “Maybe you should put on your seat belt,” she said.

Or maybe he should create his own turbulence. His fingertips skimmed her outer thighs, down the fronts, up the sides again. On the downward stroke, he shifted a bit closer to her center, back up the outsides, an inch closer to her inner thighs on the next downward pass. He could just yank her legs apart and get down to feasting—he doubted she’d resist—but he wanted her to open for him. He wanted her to ask for his touch. He wanted her to beg for release. As his fingers slid down the center of her thighs, her legs parted, and it took every shred of willpower within him to hold her gaze as he continued to stroke her smooth legs rather than stare at the heated flesh now revealed to him. He turned his hands so that the backs of his knuckles grazed the outsides of her thighs, stroking upward to the crest of her hipbones now, hands turning down there to trace the sexy V that outlined her sex. A gasp escaped her, and her eyes drifted closed. She was probably expecting him to shift his fingers to her cleft, but he followed the inner crease at the apex of her inner thighs and then slowly skimmed all eight fingers down the insides of her thighs.

“Aimes,” she moaned, her back arching.

“That’s not my name.”

Her eyelids opened, that familiar spark of fire simmering in their depths, but he repeated the same gentle motion on her now-trembling thighs, and her eyes drifted closed again.

“Steve.”

She whispered the name that he wanted on her lips, but not with the sound of deep longing he was searching for, aching for. He needed to push her farther. Hands continuing to stroke up and down her thighs in a slow, hypnotic rhythm, he lowered his head and pressed a soft kiss to her breastbone. He kissed a trail down the center of her belly—slowly, so slowly—matching the cadence of his fingertips. He dipped his tongue into her belly button, and she cried out, her thighs squeezing shut on his hands. He stayed where he was, kissing, licking, suckling her navel, giving her a taste of what her pussy had in store whenever he decided to end this little game he was playing with her body.

“God, Aimes,” she said, her fingers releasing their hold on the armrests to delve into his hair. “Steve. I meant Steve. Please. Just . . . I can’t.”

“You can’t what, Red?” He nipped the sexy extra fold of skin at the top of her navel and tugged gently.

Her legs popped open wide, releasing his hands, and she hooked her knees over the armrests. The scent of her excitement had him reaching for his fly. He had his jeans unfastened and his cock free and gripped in a tight fist before he recovered his senses enough to remember it was his mission to make her lose control, not the other way around. He took several deep breaths, his excitement further fueled by the way she was pulling his hair, trying to get him to lower his mouth to her deliciously swollen, shiny, and delicately pink pussy.

The plane rolled through several belly-dropping air currents, and Jordan’s voice came over the intercom. “Hold tight. It’s about to get a bit rougher, but we’ll be out of this system soon enough.”

“Not soon enough,” Roux muttered.

“Maybe I should get back in my seat,” he said, blowing hot breaths against her lower belly and squeezing his fisted dick in an ineffectual attempt to calm himself.

Roux groaned. “You should, but I want . . .”

She unclasped her seat belt and shifted her entire body upward so that she was suspended above her seat with her thighs anchored firmly on the armrests. This put her pussy in convenient reach of his mouth. He rewarded her recklessness with a gentle flick of his tongue against her clit.

Her entire body buckled, and his cock jerked in response. Dear lord, was making her lose control really worth the effort of keep himself in check?

“Steve,” she whispered. “Please. Lick me there.”

The pleading in her tone made holding back completely fucking worth it. “Where, Red? Where do you want me to lick you?”

Her breath escaped in a rush. “My ass.”

Fuck. He hadn’t expected that request, but he was more than happy to accommodate her wishes. He drew the flat of his tongue over her ass, collecting her pussy’s sweet, freely flowing juices as he licked upward, and stopped just shy of delving his tongue inside her. God, he wanted to tongue fuck her sweet, swollen pussy. If just that little brush of his tongue over her asshole had her panting and quaking, he couldn’t wait to see her reaction when he really got down to business.

“Again,” she said, staring down at him.

He moved in reverse, wishing he could watch her face while he gave her ass an invigorating tongue massage. Her flesh quivered and tightened beneath his swirling tongue.

“That’s so dirty,” she gasped brokenly.

He was never afraid to get a little dirty. Or a lot dirty when the occasion called for it.

He licked his way to her clit, concentrating on sucking, flicking, and rubbing that sensitive spot in the choreographed sequence he’d perfected long ago. It had never failed to send a woman flying. Or pretending to fly.

God, where was that self-doubt coming from? He’d just have to up his game and ensure he made her come.

Roux thrashed her back against her seat, making it impossible to keep true to his method. He grabbed her ass firmly in both hands to hold her still.

“I think . . .” Roux said. “I think I’m going to come.” She sounded surprised. “Wait. I . . .”

Her legs shifted, closing on his head. Surprised, he jerked back, and scarcely caught the feral look on her face before she tackled him into the aisle, straddled him, grabbed his cock none-too-gently, and slipped his tip inside her. She sank down, taking him deep. He groaned, lost in her heat, and lifted his hips, holding her waist to press deeper. Her answering raspy moan made his toes curl, and he knew the next time he heard her sing, he’d be transported back to this very moment. God, her voice was sexy.

She rose over him slowly, whimpering when she sank down again. Leaning forward, she pressed her palms against his chest and took him higher and higher as she found her rhythm. Their rhythm. As expected, it was a frenzied tempo.

Damn, she felt good. He hadn’t been inside a woman without protection for years. And she didn’t seem like the type to forget such an important detail. The idea that she was so into him that she’d fuck him skin to skin had him clenching the carpet with his fingertips and trying hard not to come. Her rhythm was intense. Relentless. Perfect. Surely she’d let go soon so he could join her in bliss.

Maybe she needed a little help. He released his fingertips from their hold on the rough carpet at his back and lifted them to her small breasts, relishing the feel of their pebbled tips rubbing against his palms as her body shifted up and down. He pinched each nipple between a thumb and forefinger before releasing them and slowly drawing his fingertips down over her ribs, belly, and hips. When his thumbs brushed her mound, she shuddered and jerked her hips to one side. The sudden change of sensation almost sent him to the point of no return. He sucked in a deep breath and tensed every muscle in his body to hold back. She shifted so that her knees were pressed tight into his sides and rose up so she wasn’t taking him as deep. She also upped her tempo. The intensity of that motion on his cockhead was too much pleasure for him to take. If she kept it up, she’d finish him off in seconds. He pulled her hips down and pressed deep, rotating his hips to try to lessen his pleasure. Wasn’t working that well for him, to be honest.

“Will you just come already?” Roux growled.

He opened his eyes, surprised by her exasperated tone. “Not until you do.”

“I can’t. Do you want me to fake it?”

His ego whimpered like a kicked dog. “Of course not. We can take as long as you need. Do you want me on top?”

“No, I want you to come. I can tell you’re fighting it.”

“And I’ll keep fighting it until you finish.”

“I already told you I can’t.”

Her frustration was palpable. He reached up and cupped her face, trying to ignore the deep ache in his balls. He really did want her to come first, no matter how much his anatomy was arguing with him.

“Are you uncomfortable?” They were fucking on the floor of a small private jet, after all; maybe she was worried that the crew would interrupt. But they knew to stay in the cockpit when he had a woman onboard. “No one is going to interrupt us, if that’s what has you worried.”

“I literally cannot come when I’m with a man, okay? It isn’t you, it’s me. So just finish, will you?”

He gaped at her. “You’ve never had an orgasm?”

She slapped his chest. It hurt, and he liked it.

“Of course I’ve had an orgasm. I own a damned vibrator. It’s just . . .” She looked away. “This is not the conversation I want to be having right now.”

“So it is me.”

She shook her head. “It’s not. I’ve been with men—good lovers, not just duds, though I’ve had some of those as well—and I just can’t let go. I don’t know why. Not even when I’ve been with the same guy for a long time.”

He was pretty sure he knew why. Trust. She had never trusted a man to have control over her body, over her pleasure.

“You almost came when I was licking you,” he said. “Why did you stop me then?” He’d thought it had been because she was so turned on she couldn’t wait to have him inside her. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“I don’t know. I was . . .” She turned her gaze to the ceiling, and he feared she was about to cry.

His dick was already crying from abuse, but he sat up and wrapped his arms around her back, dropping gentle kisses on her throat.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “If you want to take me home, I’ll understand.”

What? Hell no. And now he was on a mission. He would make this woman come if it killed him. And as he turned her gently to her back and forced his dick to withdraw from the warm, wet haven between her long thighs, he thought he just might die before he claimed his victory.

“Relax,” he said.

“Steve.” She touched his hair. “We can try some other time. I know you must be hurting. Just go ahead and finish.”

He grinned. “If you haven’t figured this out about me yet, I’m a stubborn son of a bitch, and I absolutely refuse to come before you do.”

She laughed. “Well, they’re your balls. If you like them blue, that’s your business.”