Rock Hard
Page 49

 Olivia Cunning

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He rolled her ni**les between his index fingers and thumbs, drawing a hard shudder from her body. He kissed a trail up her neck to her ear, sucking its lobe between his teeth to nibble on it. Goose bumps rose to the surface of her skin. His breath, quick and uneven in her ear, fueled her excitement.
“You drive me crazy, woman.” The low rumble of his voice drove straight to her core.
“I have no idea why.”
His hands slid down her rib cage. He paused, taking several deep breaths to calm his excitement. Apparently, he was still under the impression that she didn’t want him to dive into the tub half-clothed, unleash his cock, and plunge into her body. He reached for the small complimentary bar of soap on the edge of the tub and unwrapped it.
“Where would you like me to wash you?” he whispered into her ear.
She grinned. “My left hand.”
He lifted her hand from the water and lathered it with soap before setting the soap aside and massaging her hand with his thumbs. The pressure of his touch was perfect—firm, yet gentle.
“Clean yet?” he murmured.
“Not yet.”
He continued to massage her hand. Her knuckles, the base of her fingers, palm, wrist. If this singing thing didn’t work out for him, he could always become a hand masseur.
“Right hand,” she murmured.
He lowered her left hand into the water and rinsed the traces of soap from it before picking up the bar of soap and lathering her right. She tried to keep her attention on the feel of his strong fingers kneading her flesh. If this didn’t take her mind off things, nothing would. She didn’t want to think about that stupid video and how twenty minutes of bliss might ruin her entire life, or what would happen if Trey never got better, or how much Brian despised her, or how now that Sinners weren’t on tour she was sort of out of a job again, or that she had to retake Ellington’s class next year, or—
“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” Sed murmured into her ear.
“I am relaxing.”
He kissed her temple. “I can tell when your mind is churning out a million thoughts a minute.”
“You’ll have me thinking of nothing but you soon enough.”
“I think of nothing but you most of the time. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”
She turned her head to look at him, a smile on her lips. “Bath Boy,” she said in a haughty British accent, “my br**sts are filthy. You are neglecting your duties.”
He grinned and directed the bar of soap to the underside of her right breast and then the left. The soap slipped from his grasp and landed in the water with a splash, but he didn’t take his hands from her br**sts to retrieve it.
He worked the suds between their skin over her ni**les. Stroking. Plucking. Kneading.
She gasped, her head falling against his shoulder.
“Find the soap,” he murmured, the timbre of his voice drawing another shudder from her body.
She searched for the soap beneath the surface of the water, eventually finding it near her hip on the bottom of the tub. He accepted it from her, soaped her br**sts thoroughly, and set the bar of soap on the tub’s rim. His hands rubbed over her slick flesh repeatedly, driving her to madness.
“Bath Boy, I’m so dirty between my legs,” she gasped.
“You are?” He nipped her earlobe.
She shuddered. “Yeah.”
He took the bar of soap and slid it beneath the water’s surface down her belly. She spread her legs in anticipation. He caressed her lower belly and then the insides of her thighs.
“Are you sure your back isn’t dirty?” he murmured.
She wondered why he hesitated on getting right down to business. “Do you want my back to be dirty?”
“I want to help you relax.”
“And I want you to ravish my body.”
“I plan on it. After your bath.”
She sighed in frustration. “This pampering isn’t necessary, Sedric. My legs are always open to you, aren’t they? We f**k. That’s what we do. That’s all we do. I don’t need you for anything else. Get it?”
His hands moved from her body, dropping into the water. After a moment of his silence, she glanced up over her shoulder at him. His scowl almost covered his despair.
Exasperated, she asked, “What’s wrong now?”
He hesitated. “Is that all I am to you? A toy for your amusement?”
“Yes, that’s all you are, Sed. All you’ll ever be. An amusing toy.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his handsome face twisted in anguish.
He sat there for a full minute before climbing to his feet and drying his hands on a towel.
He retrieved his discarded shirt from the floor.
Left without a word.
Jessica waited for him to return, listening to sounds of him moving through the hotel suite. The outer door opened. Closed. Had he really abandoned her? Just because she’d called him a toy? Was that really all it took to hurt him? Too easy.
She reached for the bottle of champagne and took a long swallow.
He’ll be back.
An hour later, the champagne was gone, the bath bubbles had vanished, and the water was cold, but Sed still hadn’t returned. Well, shit. What did he expect from her? They’d agreed that this “relationship” was a game. Only about sex. And now he was pissed because she wanted to stick to the terms of their agreement. Fine. Whatever. They could be done. This could be over. Why should she care? It didn’t mean anything. Like she’d said, the only thing she needed him for was sex. If he had any doubt, he could ask any of the five hundred thousand people who’d witnessed her needs on video.
She pulled the plug and climbed from the tub, staggering as she reached for a towel. She wrapped it around her body and went in search of clothes. She should find Sed and apologize. Make up with him. It really wasn’t his fault that she was a skank. She dashed a tear away with the back of her hand.
Her vision blurred as she left the brightly lit bathroom and entered the dim interior of the living room. She couldn’t walk in a straight line. Kept drifting to the right. She’d consumed way too much champagne. She stumbled through the living area with her arms extended for balance and bumped into a side table, whacking her shin on hard wood. Eventually the pain registered.
“Ow!”
As she danced away from the offending piece of furniture, she stubbed her big toe on the sofa leg.
“Ow! Damn!” Tears of pain filled her eyes. She sat down heavily in a taupe over-stuffed chair, grabbing her smarting toe with both hands. Jessica sucked deep breaths through her teeth until the sharp pain faded to dull. Why did big toes have so many frickin’ pain receptors anyway?