Rewind: Rock Hard Book 3, page 9
Ford had been giving me space, going out at night and not coming home until late or even the next morning, so I had a lot of time to ruminate over the shit show that was my life right now, which wasn’t healthy at all. Hopefully, I’d have another good distraction tonight because there still weren’t any answers that made me feel better.
* * *
Brianna looked tired when she got to my place and we settled in the living room with the pizza, salad, and garlic bread I’d had delivered a few minutes before she arrived.
“Rough night?” I asked her.
“Priscilla’s a bit of a ballbuster, and while she’s really successful and pays well, I don’t like her. I can’t put my finger on why, but she irritates me. I love working for Marla, but Priscilla’s just…difficult.”
“Do you have to work for her?”
“She and Marla partnered up so if they need us, we go, and vice versa. I need the money so I have to suck it up.” She leaned back against the cushions of the couch. “Coming over after work was probably a bad idea. I’m exhausted but wound up.”
“If you need help relaxing, I have a few ideas. Let’s go upstairs.”
“What?” She looked startled.
“Come on.” I tugged her up by the hand and led her to the stairs. “We’ve already had sex, so it’s not like I’m trying to seduce you or anything.”
“You’re not?”
I laughed. “Not yet.” We headed up to the master bedroom and I pointed. “Go lay on your stomach.”
She hesitated but then got onto my California king bed and sprawled out. When she was face down, I crawled over her, putting my knees on either side of her hips. “Close your eyes and exhale,” I told her, moving both of my hands up the middle of her back.
“Ohhh…” She let out a soft sigh and then moaned as I squeezed her shoulders.
“You’re tight as fuck,” I whispered. “Let’s loosen you up.”
I worked my way across her shoulders, kneading her neck, scalp and upper arms. I used the heel of my palm to put pressure down her spine and was gratified to see goose bumps break out on her arms. She was starting to relax, so I pulled her shirt out of her skirt, sliding my hands beneath it. Her skin was warm and soft, and I splayed my fingers across her back, using them to apply pressure at different points. I heard the slight pop of a few of her vertebrae and the tension slowly left her body.
She had to be exhausted after working the last seven hours, walking around in those heels carrying heavy trays of food and drinks, and I kind of liked exploring her body this way. It wasn’t as sexy as other things we could be doing, but it was more intimate in some ways, and I was enjoying the little sighs of contentment she was making.
I slid my hands down over her ass, keeping my touch firm as I massaged the round, firm globes. She had a smokin’ hot body beneath her clothes and my cock sprang to life as I continued to rub the knots out of her tense muscles. Even her calves were tight and I wondered how often, if ever, she got massages. My gut told me never, and I leaned over to press a soft kiss between her shoulder blades. She didn’t react and I softly spoke her name.
“Bri?” I leaned over and realized she was fast asleep.
Damn, she looked even sweeter when she slept, and I gently moved off of her. I pulled off my shirt and shorts, crawling onto the bed beside her in my boxers. I was pretty tired too after so many sleepless nights in the last week, so I had no issue waiting until morning when we were both fully awake for anything else. I pulled the blanket up around her since she’d fallen asleep on top of it, and tucked a pillow beneath her head. With one arm resting on her back, I dozed off too.
13
Brianna
* * *
I came awake slowly and realized I was in an unfamiliar bed with a warm, muscular body pressed up against my back.
Declan.
Oh, dear god, I’d fallen asleep on him last night. Fully dressed without even washing off my makeup. I probably looked like death warmed over but I was too comfortable to move. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent the night with a man. The last guy I’d slept with had come back to my apartment and left afterward. I never heard from him again and was glad he hadn’t called because the sex had been embarrassingly bad.
“Good morning,” he murmured in a thick, sleep-laced voice.
“Good morning.” I closed my eyes again. “Your bed is so comfortable. I can’t remember the last time I slept so soundly.”
“They say money can’t buy happiness, but it sure as hell can buy you a great night’s sleep.”
“Well, that pre-sleep massage wasn’t bad either.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Declan?”
“Hmm.”
“Do you have food in the house? Like, things I could cook with?” An idea had popped into my head, and though sex was fairly high on my list right now, my rumbling stomach took our morning in another direction.
“Yeah. I don’t know what kinds of ingredients you’re looking for, but I have all the basics and there’s some fruit and veggies in the fridge. Meat is all frozen but we keep a pretty good variety in the kitchen.”
“Can I make you breakfast?”
“I was going to take you out, but sure.”
“You were so sweet last night. I’d like to do something nice for you.”
“I will never turn down a home-cooked meal, but you don’t owe me anything because I gave you a back rub.”
“I love to cook, and I don’t have much opportunity to show off my skills, so it’s win-win.”
“Well, in that case, get your sweet ass out of bed and get to work, woman.”
I laughed, rolling over so I could press a chaste kiss on his lips before hurrying to the bathroom to freshen up.
He was still in bed when I got done so I padded down the stairs in nothing but panties and one of his T-shirts since my clothes from last night smelled like stale beer and he said Ford wasn’t home.
His kitchen was dreamy, with a huge industrial size stove and oven, the biggest refrigerator I’d ever seen outside of a restaurant, and glorious counter space to work. The fridge was pretty well-stocked for two bachelors, and I rummaged around until I found ingredients for omelets. Kiki always said I could create a seven-course meal from olive oil and leftovers, and she was probably right.
I found a cutting board and a good knife and peeled two potatoes, chopping them into small chunks. I diced a tomato while frying a few pieces of bacon and cracked four eggs in a bowl. I’d used my phone to put on some music and as Luke Bryan’s “Country Girl” came on, I started dancing around the kitchen. Cooking was my happy place, and cooking for someone like Declan made me happier than it should have. I didn’t need to impress him, but I wanted to. Mostly because he’d been so nice and understanding yesterday, and whether I wanted to admit it or not, I liked him a lot more than I wanted to.
It was too late to go backward, though, so I was going to enjoy the hell out of whatever time we had together. If he dumped me in a few weeks for some supermodel, at least I could say we had great sex and I fed him well.
I was singing about country girls shaking it on the bed of a truck, my hips swaying side to side, when a dark shadow came out of nowhere and into my peripheral vision. I let out a shriek of alarm and a guy in a cowboy hat yelped right back. My hand flew to my chest and I closed my eyes as I recognized Ford.
“Jesus, woman, you about scared the daylights out of me,” he grumbled.
“Same!” I said, reaching out to turn off the music.
“Everything okay?” Declan came running into the room looking alarmed.
“He came in and scared the crap out of me,” I said, chuckling.
“I had no idea there’d be a woman in the kitchen,” Ford said. “’Specially a half-dressed one.”
I suddenly remembered I was in nothing but my underwear with no bra and one of Declan’s shirts and I darted around to the other side of the counter.
Ford laughed. “Nothing I ain’t seen before, darlin’. And anyway, you’d be wearing less at the beach or pool.”
He had a point.
“Are you, um, hungry?” I asked him. “I’m making breakfast.”
Ford raised his eyebrows and glanced at Declan. “You mind or you want me to disappear?”
“Nah, you can eat with us,” Declan said. He peered onto the stove. “Whatcha makin’?”
“Omelets with potatoes, bacon, tomatoes, scallions and mozzarella.”
“I’m in.” Ford took off his hat and tossed it on the counter, sliding onto one of the barstools at the island.
“What can I do?” Declan asked me, leaning over me from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Make some coffee? I couldn’t quite figure out your fancy machine there.”
“It’ll make espresso, cappuccino, regular coffee, lattes…what’s your pleasure?”
“Regular old coffee. I like it strong and black.”
“Same for me,” Ford called out.
Declan started making coffee as I fried the potatoes in a separate pan. I sprinkled a touch of paprika on them, along with salt and pepper, and then chopped the scallions.
“Damn, you work that knife like a pro,” Ford said, watching me.
“I’m hoping to go to culinary school next year,” I told him. “I’ve been saving up the money since I graduated from high school, but there have been some setbacks.”
“You’re gonna be a chef?” Ford looked impressed. “Dude, you should marry her and let me live with you forever.”
Declan laughed. “This is only our third date. Unless you count the day she spilled her overpriced frou-frou coffee drinks on me. Give us a little time before we start talking about marriage.”
“Well, I guess we should wait and see how it tastes first,” Ford said solemnly.
I laughed, listening to their easy banter and wondering why I’d been so nervous to be around Declan and his friends. They’d been fun and laid-back that night at trivia too, so I’d had no reason to feel that way. I’d spent most of my life second-guessing everything I did, and never more so than when I’d met Declan, but after spending all afternoon with him yesterday, it felt different. Or at least different enough to see what there was to see.
He was all blue eyes, cheekbones, and hard muscles. His shoulder-length wavy hair made me want to run my fingers through it on a regular basis, and when he kissed me, the world stopped. That had to be a good enough reason to go out on a few dates, have more mind-blowing sex, and have a little fun.
Didn’t it?
“Holy shit, that looks amazing.” Declan was leaning over my shoulder again.
“Did I see fresh strawberries in the fridge?” I asked him. “Would you get those out?”
“Sure.” He pulled out the container and I told him to wash them as I finished the omelets. I’d added two more eggs and another slice of bacon after Ford said he was joining us, and I put one on each of our plates. Then I cut up the strawberries and put some on each plate, added a sprig of rosemary I’d found in the fridge just to make it pretty, and presented the guys with the finished product.
Ford’s eyes widened. “If you don’t marry her, I will.”
“Take a bite first,” I told him. “Then you can propose.”
Ford grabbed his fork and put a bite in his mouth. He let out a low moan, closed his eyes and waved his fork around in the air. “Okay, yes. I’m going to buy the ring today.”
Declan elbowed him. “We’re not sharing this one. Find your own chef to date.”
We’re not sharing this one?
Yikes. What did that mean?
I tried not to gape as I got my own dish and settled on the stool next to Declan.
“This is amazing,” he said, chewing. “Really, really amazing.”
“Just eggs and stuff.” I shrugged. “I have much better recipes for dinner and brunch.”
“Is she moving in?” Ford asked, his mouth full.
“Swallow before you talk,” Declan told him.
“That’s what he said.” Ford and I spoke in unison and then cracked up.
“Wow. Look at you two, ganging up on me.” Declan tried to look mad but he was hiding a smile.
“Sorry.” I reached over to squeeze his thigh.
“Okay, you cooked so I’ll clean up,” Ford said when he was through. He inclined his head at me. “My compliments to the chef, Brianna. It was really good. I hope you’ll cook for us again.”
“I’ll make dinner sometime,” I told him. “And you’re very welcome.”
Declan finished eating and we left Ford to clean up.
“Wanna go back to bed?” he whispered to me.
I looked at him with a smile. “I really, really do.”
* * *
We practically ran back up the stairs to his room and Declan locked the door behind us. He looked incredible in nothing but low-slung shorts and it did funny things to me when I saw him gazing at me as hungrily as I was gazing at him.
“First things first,” he said, leaning against the door. “We don’t have our test results back yet, so for your peace of mind, I suggest condoms until we have them. We can reassess then.”
I nodded. “That’s probably the responsible thing to do.”
His smile held a touch of mischief as his eyes raked over me. “You liked having me come inside you, didn’t you?”
My cheeks felt a little warm because no one had ever talked dirty to me before, but I liked hearing it from Declan. “Oh, yeah.”
“I’m sure our tests will come back clean, so a few more days and I’ll fill you right up.”
Oh, hell. The spot between my legs was immediately soaked and I slowly pulled his T-shirt over my head.
“I enjoy seeing you wearing one of my shirts,” he said, moving toward me. “But I like you without it even more. Let me look at you, Red.”
“I thought I was organic venti whatchamacallit?” I teased.
“Outside the bedroom, yes. But in here, you’re Red, because the carpet matches the drapes.”
I blinked until the meaning hit me and then I definitely turned red because my face felt like it was on fire. “You know they don’t, right? My hair is actually bright, fiery red but I put dark auburn lowlights in it to make it darker because I hate it.”
“You dye your hair?” He reached out for a strand, curling it around his fingers. “I’d like to see the natural color.”
I shook my head. “I hate it. Not happening.”
“Okay. Your hair, your choice.” He used his thumb to stroke one of my nipples. “Second thing I wanted to talk about—ass play. I know you were a little uncomfortable, so let’s table that until you’re ready. I want you to enjoy our time together, not worry about whether or not I’m going to try something you’re not prepared for.”
I was so tired of blushing, but equally grateful he was vocalizing all these things that stressed me out. “Thank you,” I whispered. “I’m definitely not experienced like you.” I paused. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything.”
“What did you mean by ‘we’re not sharing this one’ when you said that to Ford at breakfast?”
“Well.” He seemed to be thinking about how to word what he was going to say. “Look, I don’t want you to feel weird, but I’ve been a touring rock musician with a shitload of success for over a decade. I’ve done a lot of crazy shit with both girlfriends and groupies. This last tour, Ford and I started…sharing. We’d find one or two women who wanted to be with us, and we both did her. Or them. Sometimes at the same time, and sometimes if there were two of them, we’d switch out. We did not do each other, though. In case you were wondering.”
I nodded. “So, uh, when you did them together…does that mean…” I met his gaze. “I mean, did you…”
“Yeah, one of us in the front, one in the back. Hence my love of anal. But not all the time. Frankly, there’s a lot of friction when you do it that way, and it gets me off pretty quick, which I don’t like. I want the woman I’m with to get off first so if we get to a point where you want to try anal, we’ll work up to it, okay? It’s pretty far down on my list of things I like in bed.”
“What, uh, what’s number one?” I asked, lifting my chin.
“Oral. Duh.”
“Giving or receiving?”
He smiled. “Both.”
“But if you had to number them, your favorite and next favorite.”
“Receiving. I mean, come on? Who doesn’t want to receive?”
“I’ve never done it,” I whispered.
14
Bash
* * *
“You’ve never given a blow job?” That didn’t surprise me at all.
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean, yes, I have. What I meant was, I’ve never been on the receiving end.”
I stared. “No one’s ever gone down on you?”
“Most of the guys in my life have been pretty tame and…now that I know better, selfish.”
“Well, honey, that ends now.”
“I have to be at the restaurant at four.”
I laughed. “That’s not for four more hours. I can go down on you more than once between now and when you have to leave.”
“I should shower first. I worked last night and got really sweaty.”
“I don’t mind sweaty, but we can shower together. And then I have a fabulous idea for after we’re all squeaky clean.”
She yelped when I scooped her up in my arms and carried her into the master bathroom. The tiled shower was ten square feet and had eight showerheads on three walls. The water pressure was spectacular and there were times I stayed in here for thirty or forty minutes.
“This is wonderful,” she said, stepping under the spray after we’d shed our clothes.
“One of my favorite rooms in the whole place.”
“I’ve never been in a two-story condo,” she said, letting the water run over her hair.
