Lush (A DELICIOUS NOVEL) Read online

  He grinned, looking like a rock-star pirate. “You’re small enough to make me feel like the Hulk or something. Plus, you jiggle in all the best parts. What’s not to like?”

  Holding up some foil packets, he placed them on the nightstand and joined her on the bed. “Now then.”

  She wanted to kiss him awhile. So she moved close, leaning in to get one eyelid and then the other. Across his brow line. Down his jaw. Over his chin and up again. Against the blade of each cheekbone and over the bridge of his nose. He relaxed into her touch, accepting her kisses easily. His fingertips traced each bump of her spine.

  He opened to her immediately, his taste rushing back through her as if it hadn’t been absent for those weeks. He was a bold kisser. He knew what he was about. He used his lips, his tongue, his teeth. He didn’t just kiss, he tasted. He seduced and then he feasted. By the time she realized it, he’d already taken over the kiss and made it his. She had no complaints about that part. Not at all.

  She found herself on her back as he kissed over her eyes. Each step was an echo of what she’d done. The tickle of his beard added extra sensation against the skin of her neck.

  He found his way to her nipples. Those kisses and licks took on an edge as he bit. Just barely shy of pain. Shivers exploded through her. He nibbled, licked and bit over each breast until she writhed into his touch. Needing more.

  Damn, she was responsive. Beautiful in the way she arched, demanding more. Each place he kissed told him more about her. She sucked in a breath when he kissed the hollow at her hip. Made a weepy sort of gasp when he’d bitten her nipples. The spot beyond her jaw had made her moan. She liked having her belly kissed, especially around her belly button. He filed it all away for next time.

  And there would be a next time.

  He licked down the seam where her leg met her thigh, spreading her wide open so he could get at her pussy.

  He hummed his delight as he took a long look. So pretty. Slick. Ready for him.

  He took a lick and she shivered.

  Responsive here too. Ready to come again after the short recess from that orgasm in the shower. He liked that too.

  She tasted so fucking good. And the noises she made shot straight to his cock. He tried not to think of it, but it was difficult when she punched the mattress, digging her heels into the bed on either side of his body.

  Demanding more.

  So he gave it to her.

  Gave it to her hard and fast, glorying in the way she came so hard against his lips and tongue. In the way she tasted and felt beneath him.

  He kissed her gently as she recovered, trying to get his control back into place before he got inside her again.

  He flopped to his back and she got to her elbow, looking down at him. “You should get a platinum record for that.”

  He grinned, his eyes still closed.

  “Glad to be of service.”

  “Now it’s my turn.”

  She kissed his belly and he stopped her. “Curly, I’m very, very close. If you put those lips anywhere near my cock, it’ll be over. I very much want into your pussy. I want to fuck you until your tits jiggle.”

  “Oh. Well then.”

  He opened up to find her grabbing the condom, holding still as she rolled it on.

  And then she straddled his thighs and he nearly blacked out.

  But he managed to keep his cool as she got into place, angling him to slowly sink back, taking him deep.

  “Mmm.”

  She wore that smile he’d been thinking of. She smiled a lot in general, but this was a sex smile. A private Mary smile she only gave him while they were like this. He didn’t care if anyone else had seen it before. It only mattered that he saw it then. That this Mary was his delicious secret.

  And she began to ride.

  Slowly, she rose to her knees, nearly coming all the way off, and then she reversed course, sliding back down to take him in fully.

  Over and over until beads of sweat popped out on his brow. He knew he had a thin sliver of control left.

  “You’re killing me.”

  Again her smile. “Nuh-uh.”

  She felt so good. Her body right around his cock. The heat of her burning against his skin, even through the latex. Her hair had begun to dry and curl up again. It flowed around her face and down her shoulders like a wild river.

  Her skin gleamed with the sweat of a good, hard fuck. Her breasts swayed just so. Her expression was open, candid. A woman who liked to come. Who liked sex and wasn’t afraid for him to know it.

  For some reason this got to him in ways no other woman had.

  She swiveled when she came back down on him and the last threads of his control wisped away. He was so close he could already feel climax sliding through his system.

  His fingers dug into the muscle at her hips, holding her in place as he rolled his hips to thrust up as he came.

  She fell to the bed beside him as he managed to roll out. “Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  When he returned she snorted. “Where would I go? I’m naked, pretty boneless and I have an equally naked man in my room. I have everything I need right here.”

  “Want a beer? I didn’t order one at dinner, but after the day with my brothers looking at houses, my god.”

  “I haven’t even looked in the mini fridge but you’re welcome to whatever is in there. Or we can order some. Was it awful, then? I thought you got on with your brothers.”

  He laughed as he padded from the room to poke around in the mini fridge. As he suspected, Adrian had taken care to stock it well.

  “Adrian is a good host,” he called out, but she moved out to join him, now wearing a bright yellow short robe thing that showcased her tits.

  “Wow, that’s my favorite robe ever.”

  “Daisy gave it to me. She does that.”

  He cracked open the beers, handed her one and clinked his to it. “Cheers. Welcome to New York City, Mary Whaley. I’m sure glad you’re here.”

  They settled on the couch. He pulled her legs up over his. “I am close with my brothers. But the process of looking for a house is stressful enough. Paddy kept getting calls and Vaughan chatted up the real estate agent and I just wanted to look at the one house and come back. But of course Vaughan wants to nail her so we had to look at other houses and really, a few we saw were also pretty awesome and great options, so that meant calls back to Ezra. Herding cats. That’s what our mom says we’re like. She’s right.”

  “I can’t even imagine being a real estate agent and having you three show up. My lord. All that charm in one place. It’s lucky she didn’t pass out. Did you choose one?”

  “I think so. I sent pictures to Ezra. He’s going to look them over and get back to me in the morning.”

  “Ezra is the oldest, right? He runs the ranch with your dad, you said?”

  He nodded, wondering if she knew the story.

  “He’s the stable one? Ryan is the stable one in our family. Cal is a hothead, though not at work. I’m the artsy one. My dad—who is a retired ironworker, by the way—says I’m flighty. But he smiles so it’s not an insult. Ryan is a schoolteacher. Math and biology. At a middle school. I don’t know how he does it. But the kids love him. He never loses it with them. He’s the one I talk to about my business stuff. Cal sets up my business paperwork, but Ryan gives the best advice.”

  Being with her was . . . surprisingly normal. He didn’t sit around after sex, drinking beer and talking real estate with other women. He couldn’t have told anyone about their backgrounds or what their families were like.

  “Ezra used to be in the band. He started it actually. But it was not easy for him. He decided to leave and focus on the ranch. It was his idea to start the hay crop. He and my dad are a lot alike. He’s a hell-raiser. Or he was, he’s mellowed.” Since he got out of rehab and worked all day long on horseback or in a truck. The physical nature of the job seemed to fill a need in him.

  “It’s nice you guys can do this for y
our parents.”

  “It’s one of my favorite things about fame. Having the money to do things for my parents like this. They’ve done so much for us. It’s a good thing to take care of them.”

  Later that night, as she fell asleep against him, he realized he’d gotten used to her awfully fast.

  7

  Can I just tell you you clean up well?” Damien looked her up and down. She wore a smart navy-blue dress with towering heels. Truly she was absolutely gorgeous and elegant and he was very glad he was with her that evening.

  “As many times as you like.”

  Her smile was saucy. She was saucy. He liked it. Liked her.

  “I’ve got a cab ordered for us downstairs. We have some time first. Would you like a drink?”

  “That’s nice of you. Yes. I’d love one. Here or . . . ?”

  They were set to head off to some swank restaurant that was ridiculously hard to get a table at. Adrian had buttered some people up and scored a reservation for two and she’d chosen him as her plus one.

  “They have a bar at the restaurant. I looked it up. Not that I needed the bar. I mean I wanted to see what I was getting into.” God, he was fucking this up. She made him nervous. Not because she was judgy or snooty. But he wanted her to like him. Wanted to be sure he could handle himself at this place. He liked to know things. Being prepared was his measure of control.

  Her laugh calmed him a little. “It’s fine. Yes, let’s go there. I like to check out bar food too. I haven’t eaten all day just to be ready.”

  She took his arm. “Also, you really do look amazing in a suit. It works on you.”

  He’d dressed up for her and he was glad he had.

  “Come then, lady. Let’s get our grub on.”

  When they arrived at the restaurant, her eyes glittered. He squeezed her to his side, loving that she was so happy and that he could share that with her. In the bar, she ordered a very dry vodka martini with an olive and a few items from the menu.

  Plenty of people recognized him, but none approached, which he was thankful for. Maybe they forgot when they got a load of Mary’s legs in those damned heels. He knew he’d nearly stumbled twice because he’d been staring as they walked.

  By the time their reservation came up, he was ready to have her to himself in a more intimate situation. Bars were fun and all, but at their table it was intimate. He sat close enough to speak quietly with her, close enough that he could smell her perfume.

  She chatted with the server, asking a million questions. So much so that the chef-owner came out and her eyes widened, though she managed to keep it together. He asked about her catering, her food, and invited her to come back again the next time she was in the city.

  “If you’ll permit me, I have a menu in mind.”

  Jean Louis Valpar was her idol. And he stood right there, gray-haired, French and impeccable. Oh and charming. And he had a menu planned? As if she’d say no?

  “We would be most appreciative. I’ve been an admirer of your food for some time. I can’t wait to taste what you’ve got in store for us.”

  He took her hand, kissing her knuckles. “It will be my pleasure.”

  He spoke to the server in rapid-fire French and the server disappeared to procure whatever he’d told her to.

  “She’ll be back momentarily.” Jean Louis bowed. “It was wonderful to meet you, Mary and Damien.”

  Once he’d gone, Mary turned to Damien. “Oh. My. God.”

  Damien smiled, taking her hand. “I sensed you might admire him a little.”

  “He’s like . . . my idol. The first real cookbook I ever had was Jean Louis’s Kitchen. When people say they wanted to go to Disneyworld or whatever, I always said I wanted to come here.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  The server returned with several appetizers, and the sommelier came by with wine.

  “Chef Valpar suggests these wines to go with each course.”

  She looked over the list and handed it Damien’s way.

  “That’s a lot of courses.”

  Mary grinned at him. “I know. I’m so glad I have an empty stomach. Though the martini has hit.”

  Wine was poured and she dug in, sharing with Damien.

  “I wish you were with me every time I went out to eat. I’d never have chosen any of this stuff. And yet, each forkful you create is perfect.”

  She blushed. “Thank you.”

  “So what ignited this love of food?”

  “I don’t know. I just have always loved it. My grandmother took me to a swanky restaurant in Portland for my eighth birthday. It doesn’t exist anymore. But it was old-school French. I was astounded by all the silverware, by the menu, which had been in French as well. My grandmother told me, after I had made a very safe choice, that I’d never ever look back at my life when I was her age and say I wished I’d made safe menu choices. She said life was about taking chances and trying new things. So I did. And I never really stopped.”

  “I like that story. When I was growing up— Oh my god, what is that?”

  “Abalone.”

  “Wow. Love it.” He finished chewing and went in for a few more bites. She loved to watch people eat. Especially Damien. He had started off wary but had taken up the challenge.

  He sipped his wine. “This is also awesome. Anyway, we rarely went out to dinner when I was growing up. We didn’t often have much extra money. My mom’s a great cook, but we’re a meat-and-potatoes family. I never really went to fancy places, not until we hit it big and label people started to take us to lunch.”

  “I love meat and potatoes. My favorite meal of my mom’s is meatloaf. Also, small hole-in-the-wall places can really be great finds. Some of the best food I’ve ever eaten has been from some three-table place in a strip mall.”

  Another course arrived and she had to clasp her hands on her lap to keep from rubbing them together with glee.

  “You’re really happy right now, aren’t you?”

  “I am. This is . . . it’s special. I’m blown away. Taste this.” She held her fork out and he leaned in to take a bite. “I hope you’re not weirded out that I like to share.” She really did hope not, because she wanted to grab some of what was on his plate.

  “Hell no. I like it.” He indicated his plate and she hoped she didn’t look like a hungry animal when she forked up some of his food.

  It was hours later when they walked outside. He hailed a cab and she leaned into his side, despite the August heat.

  “It’s a beautiful thing to watch you around food.”

  She tipped her head back. “Yeah?”

  He nodded. “Oh yeah. You enjoy it like nothing I’ve ever seen. You get this light in your eyes. Pure joy. Sensual. Really, really hot. Thanks for sharing this with me.”

  “Thank you for coming with me. And for not complaining when I ate off your plate.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Anytime.”

  Two women approached. “Oh my god, you’re Damien Hurley!” They giggled and he smiled at them.

  “I am. How are you two ladies this fine evening?”

  “You’re so hot. Would you sign an autograph?” She started digging in her purse, unsteady on her feet.

  “So are you staying in town? We have tickets to see you tomorrow night. Can we come backstage? We’d totally make it worth your while, if you know what I mean.”

  He chuckled.

  They ignored Mary totally. One of them even sort of edged in front of her. She stepped back, shocked at the behavior.

  He looked back to her. “Hey, don’t go anywhere.”

  Damien saw the look on her face, knew she was pissed. He felt bad—it had been a pretty fucking stellar night up until that point.

  A cab rolled up and the doorman opened the door. She shot him a look over her shoulder and got in. “Looks like you’re busy. I can go back on my own if you’d like.”

  “Gotta run. Have a good night, ladies, and enjoy the show.” He hurried, disentangling himself from
their grabbing hands and slid into the cab.

  Mary stared straight ahead as they pulled away from the curb.

  “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Yeah, I could tell.” There was enough ice in her voice to make him shiver.

  “Look, it happens. What am I supposed to do? Be rude?”

  “Um, in case it’s escaped your notice, you were rude. To me. I don’t give one tiny drop of fuck about two drunken skanks offering you a three-way for a backstage pass. You gotta do what you gotta do, but don’t cry to me about being rude when you were to me.”

  The cabbie met his eyes in the rearview for a moment, sharing one of those sympathetic guy glances.

  Damien had considered her pretty easygoing, but Mary Whaley had a temper on her. He should have guessed given the way she was in bed, but wow, she was pissed and he was probably going to hell because it made him hot for her to see it.

  He took a deep breath. “You’re right. It happens so often I guess I just sort of get immune to how it affects everyone around me. Don’t let this ruin what has been one of the best nights of the entire year. Please?”

  He took her hand and she gave him one slowly raised brow.

  “How do you do that? I can manage a single brow raise, but the slow draw up, I can’t do it.” He managed to give her his most charming smile.

  “It was a lovely evening. Until that. Look, I get it. We aren’t married or anything, but we were on a date. I don’t own you. I just expect to not have some floozy push me out of the way while she offers up her sexual services.”

  He nodded. “You’re totally right. Can I tell you that the overwhelming majority of my fans are awesome and respectful? And I was raised right, I’ll have you know. We’re on a date and you deserve respect.”

  “Hm.”

  He knew she’d forgiven him, thank goodness. But the way she’d so casually tossed out that they were just on a date and nothing more rattled around at the back of his mind. She was so much more than just some woman he had fun with.

  “How about we go up on the roof and look at the stars? There’s a pretty garden and places to lounge around.”

  She finally smiled. “All right then.”