Reckless Beat, page 8
“I’m probably not… You probably don’t want to—”
“Shush, woman, are you kidding me?”
It was sweet of him, but she wasn’t fooled. The world of rockstars and celebrities wasn’t one she’d ever fit into. “I wobble in too many places.”
“You wobble in all the best places. Who the hell’s been telling you otherwise?”
Society at large, since she was thirteen.
“You’re all curves. Ain’t nothing hotter than that. Why do you think I have my head in your lap?” She’d been trying not to think about that, to better appreciate it.
“Most of the world says otherwise. Also, what you just said is that I make a good pillow.”
“Precisely. Also, most of the world are fooling themselves or liars if they think that’s a bad thing. Soft is good. If I want hard lines and muscle, I can pull up my top.” He was good for her soul, even if she didn’t entirely believe him.
“I wouldn’t mind if you did that.”
Immediately, he crunched into a sitting position, unzipped the fleece, which he spread out on the ground, then grabbed the neck of his T-shirt and pulled it off. “I’d offer to smear myself in mushroom pâté so you could lick it off, but weirdo that you are, you don’t like it.”
Licking him, on the other hand, certainly merited serious contemplation. “It might grow on me,” she chirped, drinking down her fill of him again. She’d not had the proper focus to appreciate him properly the first time she’d seen him topless. Ink covered most of his skin, with just the odd deliberate patch of white. His navel was a tight hollow, nipples two brown peaks. The swirling lines formed a motley of tribal designs, insects, and birds, and now that she looked closer, more than a few lusciously endowed goddesses, too, in well… frankly explicit poses.
“Touching is permitted.”
That was an invitation she wasn’t passing up on. Jodi reached out and traced one swirl over his biceps, then poked his six—make that eight—pack with a finger. There was precious little give—Rock Giant, indeed. His muscles were like concrete.
“Take a perch,” he encouraged, taking hold of her hand and tugging, until she shuffled over and settled astride him. It was certainly a more comfortable seat than the paving slabs that formed the base of the dome. Warmer. Friendlier. Titillatingly so. It didn’t seem real that this was the turn the evening had taken. It’d been surreal ever since he came storming towards her down the aisle of the bus in that teeny towel with soap suds on his shoulders.
“Are you for real?”
Paul grasped her shirt front and pulled her down towards him as he raised his head. “Nah, I’m a figment of your imagination. You knocked yourself out when you crashed the bus.”
That was actually more believable.
“Oh!” Their noses bumped. He adjusted the tilt of his head, then slaughtered her with the soft buss of his lips. For a figment, he sure felt solid. The chill that had been prickling her skin instantly vanished. He was all hands, and not shy about where he put them, which wasn’t to say he wasn’t utterly respectful too. “I think you’re right. This is too nice to be anything other than head trauma.”
“Nice?” he barked, like she’d dealt him a massive insult. “Nice is for bake sales.” His mouth skimmed down the side of her throat, while his hands rode up under the jumper he’d clothed her in earlier. She was braless, so there was no barrier to the exploration. “Christ, woman, you’ve tits for days.” His head followed his hands inside the wool swaddling, and into the groove of her cleavage, before his mouth moved to her nipple. His tongue swirled around the areola before he encompassed it and sucked. Jodi felt it all across her body. It curled her toes, and sped up her heart rate, but it was the hum of appreciation in his throat that really got her. He sounded like he was lost in a hedonistic paradise, not on his back on the cold earth by a fire in a glorified greenhouse.
Paul pushed his head up through the neck hole alongside her, probably stretching it out of shape for all eternity. The heat of his breath whispered against her chin and then her lips. She moaned into his mouth, which he echoed back as their tongues tangoed.
“Yeah,” he agreed, jogging her into his lap as he sat, so that she rested against the wedge of his cock.
“You know I’m dying to see this piercing.”
“You know I’m dying to show it to you.”
“And let me touch it?” she cheekily prompted. “Except my hands are cold.”
He extracted his head from the jumper, then blew into the cradle he made of her hands. It was the heat of his body that warmed them as much as his breath. She followed the descent of her hand down his abs as he guided her touch. Every inch of him was a visual treat. Turned out his cock didn’t disappoint either. After a moment or two of palming him through his joggers, she hooked her index fingers under the waistband.
“Show me.”
“Babe, those things are barely keeping him contained.”
True to his words, his erection escaped the fabric, rearing towards her touch. “Damn!” A grin stretched her cheeks to the limits of their elasticity. Not only was he pierced as promised—a silver ring with a ball closure—he was huge. Her hands were suddenly clammy, her pussy fluttering in anticipation. Wow! It was enough to make her eyes water.
And yet, she was squirming in anticipation of feeling it. “That’s—”
“Not too daunting a proposition for you, hopefully.”
“You’re joking, right?” she said, pawing around behind them for the condoms. “I’m sure as hell not going to have to worry about whether I’ll feel it.”
“Is that usually an issue?”
“I just like—” She was going to say a big dick, but he interrupted her.
“Sex? Yeah, I’m pretty sold on it myself. With the right person, obviously. And you’re definitely that, before you start doubting it. Are you going to take this off?” He tugged at the hem of the jumper. “And let me watch you jiggle.”
“You want me on top?”
“Hell yeah, if you’re comfortable up there.”
She wouldn’t normally have been so brazen, but everything about him made her feel beautiful in her skin. She threw off the knitwear and let him drink his fill.
“Woman, you’re a fucking goddess.”
“Yeah, the goddess of cats and catastrophes.”
“Consider me your chief worshipper.” He dived into her cleavage again, before leaning back to roll on the condom she passed him. Christ, she was going to feel this. She was breathless already thinking about it, and she couldn’t stop herself from touching him. His abs, all the ink on his chest and shoulders, the thick length of his cock that he was trying to dress in latex.
“I want you,” she hissed into his ear as she ground onto the tip of him. Fuck, she was so wet she could feel her own slipperiness.
“Just let yourself get used to it a sec.”
Shove that. She wanted the whole of him right now. She sank over his shaft, exulting in the sensation as her muscles stretched and became pliant. Hell, yes! It made her pant and him growl like a goddamned animal. “Yeah, come on. Fuck me.”
“Lady.” He ravaged her mouth, his kisses losing all civility in favour of obscenity. It was a heady cocktail. Her hips moved, finding an instinctive rhythm. He was all hers. The noises coming out of him, a powerful serenade. There was no doubting that he wanted her, that he wasn’t every bit as into her as she was into him. They fit somehow. Him all muscle and sinew. Her soft, bountiful, her slickness smoothing the ride.
When she squeezed around him, he made a garbled noise in the back of his throat. “Not too much of that. You’ll make me come, and I like being inside you too much to chase that just yet. Cool it, Castle.”
Cool it! That was a good ’un, considering he’d wedged a hand between them and was rubbing her clit with his thumb—a thumb that was a little rough at the tip, presumably from plucking guitar strings, but which was expertly strumming her like he’d mastered the art of getting her off aeons past.
“I’m going to come if you keep that up.”
He scoffed. “That’s the plan. I want to watch, feel the pulse of it, and know I got you there.”
Oh, he was getting her there, and fast, courtesy of the continued assault on her clit coupled with the stretch of his fucking enormous cock. Paul leaned in close, his nose pressed tight to her skin as if he were committing her scent to memory. “You feel incredible. I want to bang you from every conceivable angle.”
She could picture it. Them entwined against a variety of backdrops in every position that two people could contort themselves into. That wasn’t their actual future, but it was a piece of fantasy worth wallowing in for a while. Reality was that one day when she had those sorts of friends that you could share wild tales with, she’d get to boast about the time she fucked a real-life rockstar.
Paul nipped the side of her breast, and it sparked the match. As her orgasm ripped his name from her throat, he stiffened like a current was running wild through his nerves. “Fuck! Oh, fuck!”
In the aftermath, they slowly, slowly peeled themselves apart. Rock Giant disposed of the condom in the fire, then tucked her against his side. “You warm enough?”
Surprisingly… “I am, yeah.”
They lay together, him grinning up at the stars, her into the skin of his chest, while the fire kept off the worst of the chill. “Penny for them?” she asked.
Rock Giant kissed the top of her brow. “I’m mildly disappointed you didn’t want to hear my version of The Devil and the Farmer’s Wife.”
“I never said that. I just wanted to fuck you more. Why not sing it to me now?”
So, he did, with her head cradled into the hollow below his collarbone, and his arm around her as he tapped the teaspoons against her hip. He didn’t have the sort of voice that would carry a rock band, but it was perfect for gravelly, traditional folk. She could practically hear the fiddles and smell the hops of countless ales and beers. She closed her hand and snuggled in closer. Peaceful.
It was just a pity it all had to end.
-epilogue-
Paul “Rock Giant” Reed
Paul woke stiff and cold. The fire had burned down to embers, and it was raining condensation off the top of the dome onto his face. Jodi had covered him with the now deflated boat coat.
Jodi!
There was no sign of her or the kittens. No sign of his emergency mug, either. Its absence made him chuckle into his T-shirt as he pulled it on, along with the fleece. He wondered if she’d carried it off deliberately, or if it’d just slipped into the kitty box accidentally. There was a note scrawled into the mist on the glass.
I thought about leaving you the kittens, but I’m not sure how they’d take to life on the road. Promise I’ll take them to the vet and give them a good life. Hope the rest of Black Potato aren’t too mad with you.
J xx
PS: Both me and the flora agree, you’re an awesome fuck. Burn bright forever!
There was a further PPS, which the door obliterated as it swished open. Ash stuck his handsome mush through the hole.
“There you are, fuckwit. Cave Troll’s going to have you for breakfast. I can’t believe you stranded us and fucking killed Bertha.”
Paul shrugged. “Boat coat works a treat.”
“Yeah?”
“We aced it,” he added.
Ash grinned back at him as they exchanged fist bumps. “Fucking knew it. Patent bloody pending, mate. Patent bloody pending.”
He nodded, pleased to have diverted Ash’s attention to their triumph, and not what Paul saw as the obvious signs of recent dual occupation. “How’d you find me?”
They stepped outside, where a car sat idling on the tarmac. Ash shoved him towards the passenger side, while he got into the driver’s side. “With my world’s greatest secret-agent skills, obviously. The rest of them are still arguing over where to look. Well, I say the rest, but three of them are still busy shagging. You know about that, right?”
He knew. “It’s like watching my little sister get—”
“Ravished by rockstars,” Ash suggested.
“Yeah, pretty much. So, that only leaves Spook and Cave Troll for the search.”
Ash reversed the hire car and pulled them on to the exit lane. “Yeah. Oh, and by the way, Spook says you owe him a new pair of high-tops as payment for Troll wrangling. I mean, he got quite specific about the design and make, but don’t expect me to recall the deets. Anyway, the new bus should be here by eleven. Until then—”
“Breakfast.”
“Breakfast,” Ash agreed. And they left the river behind.
~Ӂ~
Thank you for reading Reckless Beat. Paul and Jodi’s adventures will continue in the upcoming novel, Rock Giant.
Meanwhile, why not catch up with the rest of the band?
Run away to Monte Carlo with lead singer, Xane Geist and come undone.
Go wild with the King of Licking, lead guitarist, Ash Gore.
Convince rhythm guitarist, Spook Mortensen that celibacy isn’t the only option.
-also by madelynne ellis-
Contemporary Erotic Romance
Stirred Passions
Cherry Bomb
Black Velvet
Soul Kiss
Mint to Be
Screw Driver
The Bad Boys of Brit Pop
Crazy Love
The Black Halo Books
Rock Hard (Xane)
Come Undone
Come Together
Come Alive
Black Halo (Ash)
All Night Long
All Fired Up
All Right Now
Off the Record (Spook)
Off the Record
Reflex
Replay
Revive (coming soon)
Anything But…
Anything But Vanilla
Anything But Ordinary
Standalone Contemporary Titles
Tempted
Passion of Isis
Sharing Adam
You, Him, & Me
Gabriel’s Naughty Game
Confessions of a Greedy Girl
Short Stories
We Were Lovers Once
Woe in Kabukicho
Historical Erotic Romance
Scandalous Seductions
A Gentleman’s Wager
Indiscretions
Phantasmagoria
Three Times the Scandal
Her Husband’s Lover
The Ghosts of Christmas Past
The Serpent’s Kiss
Romps & Rakehells
Capturing Cora
Seducing Sophia
Taming Taylor
Forbidden Loves
The Kissing Bough
Pure Folly
Gothic Urban Fantasy Romance
Blood Moon
Broken Angel
Prophecy
The Demon Way
Shadow Queen
-about the author-
Madelynne is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author, and a Passionate Plume winner. She wrote her first novel after discovering Black Lace Books in the 1990s. Having escaped the Hotel California, she dived into storytelling full-time. Her books are filled with bisexual bad boys who like to get down and dirty, and stories so angst-filled you know they’re going to hurt.
She lives in the UK near the Welsh border, where you can find her surrounded by books, drinking rapidly cooling decaf coffee, and listening to loud music. Her family still haven’t grasped that noise-cancelling headphones really do mean she can’t hear them.
Come hang out with her via her newsletter and readers group, where she shares what she’s reading, watching, listening to, and snippets about her current projects.
Madelynne’s Newsletter
Rockstars & Rakehells Readers Group
Madelynne Ellis, Reckless Beat
