Three Nights With a Rock Star Read online

  “See for yourself.”

  Krist slid closer, threading one arm behind Lock until they were practically cuddled against each other, and extended the other so he could cup Hailey’s jaw. “May I?”

  She nodded and settled back into Lock’s lap so Krist could reach.

  That mouth working over her neck. Wet tongue, flicking. He had a front-row seat, and he couldn’t help but imagine all the other places he’d like to make Krist taste. On her body. On his own. She gasped when Krist nipped at her jaw. The two of them were warm and solid, pinning Lock in place.

  How fucking long did it take to get back to the hotel? They needed room to maneuver.

  “Need to come.” Lock’s grunted command was almost an admission. But neither Hailey nor Krist could see his state right now, both of them with their eyes squeezed shut, focused on their own pleasure. Krist had a handful of her breast, her nipple trapped between his thumb and pointer finger.

  She moaned in response, and he could hear the wet sound of her hand working faster between her legs. Her knuckles rubbed against his cock on every thrust. Just enough friction to keep him on edge. If they kept this up much longer, he’d come in his pants.

  Krist caressed down her ribs and covered her hand with his own. Lock watched, riveted. And then it was Krist’s knuckles grazing his cock over and over.

  Hailey pulled her hand free, letting Krist finish what she’d started, and traced over Lock’s lips with her wetness. He bucked up into those broad knuckles and sucked her fingers into his mouth. The taste of her. The sound of her moans, building and building. The feel of Krist, around his shoulders, against his cock. It was all too much. Krist’s eyes were open now, but he wasn’t watching his hand slide in and out or her face breaking with ecstasy. He stared at Lock. His eyes were dark with lust and soft with relief. Wary too. Unspoken communication passed between them like it did onstage, like it had when they were teenagers. Don’t make me stop. I won’t stop, not now.

  When she finally came in his lap, gripping his chin, shuddering and grinding Krist’s hand into his crotch, he came too. Hot and shameful.

  How could he walk to the elevator like this?

  In the dim light of the limo, all he could see were shadows and flashes of skin, the dip of her waist, the peak of a nipple. Tempted, on edge, he leaned forward and caught it between his teeth. Tugged until she whimpered. Pushed herself forward into his mouth. One flick of his tongue and he released her. “Krist, hand over her dress.”

  “Suuure.” Krist’s voice was syrup slow. A low rumble vibrating against his neck, down his back. All reverb, no treble. He watched as Krist untangled his fingers from between their legs and wiped them on the front of Lock’s shirt.

  The fucker. Lock caught Krist’s wrist and pinned it against his chest. “You made a mess.”

  “I didn’t think you’d mind.” Krist tried to pull away, but not very hard. It was almost as if he was pulling just so Lock would hold him tighter, longer, like one of those Chinese finger traps.

  “I don’t just mean this. I didn’t tell you to make me come.”

  “Not my fault if you don’t have the control you—”

  He squeezed Krist’s wrist, his knuckles going white with the effort, and the bastard smiled. “Wrong. You’re both to blame,” Lock hissed.

  “We’ll make it up to you.” Hailey’s hands were soft against his, smoothing his fingers, gentling his touch as the limo rolled to a stop. He let go. So they were a we now? A team?

  “Get dressed.” He’d like to make her walk naked from the car, through the back entrance of the hotel and straight into the elevator. Show her, show Krist exactly who she belonged to. They weren’t going to fight over her like a piece of candy. He was going to let Krist taste his candy and then take it away. Mine. His cock twitched at the thought. But the fucking paparazzi was probably camped out in shrubs, hanging from drainpipes. Vultures. Vermin. He urged her off his lap, smoothing her hair away from her face as she wobbled onto the seat across from him.

  Krist made sure she was covered before he knocked on the window to let the driver know they were ready. “I’ll head up first. Meet you upstairs?”

  He was running this show, not Krist. “You’ll wait in the fucking elevator.”

  “Got it.” The driver opened the door, and Krist tumbled out into the night. Hailey started after him. Lock hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her back into his lap. She gasped, breasts heaving above his arm.

  “Wait. If anyone’s out there watching, they’ll get tied up with him. Give it a minute.”

  “You don’t want anyone to see us together?” She squirmed, trying to turn and face him, the soft curve of her ass grinding against his sticky crotch. Reminding him.

  “I don’t care what they see. It’s not what they see that’s the problem. I don’t want to give them a piece of us. To use. To twist.” He skimmed his hand up her chest, her neck, catching her chin. “I’ll share you with Krist, tonight. But only him.” And only tonight. Their time was almost up.

  She relaxed into him, her back pressed to his chest. He could feel his heart pounding against her. More reverb. “We could just stay here, couldn’t we? Tell the driver to go around the block a few times?”

  “You changing your mind about all this?” He dragged his teeth over the nape of her neck. So sweet.

  “No. Are you?”

  “I never change my mind.”

  He tucked Hailey under his arm and led her into the hotel.

  Krist bounced in the corner of the mirrored elevator, arms resting on the handrail that ran around the middle of the box. He pushed off when he saw them, so that he stood in the center of the car. “Jesus, I thought you weren’t coming.”

  “But you didn’t leave.”

  He nodded, eyes downcast. “You told me to wait.”

  Lock pressed the button to close the doors, and swiped his card for the penthouse. As soon as the doors snicked shut, he flicked open his jeans. “Take the dress back off, Hailey. You two are going to clean up this mess you made before we get upstairs.”

  His cock was only semihard now, but as soon as he felt their eyes on him, it stiffened farther. The car lurched up, and he steadied himself with a hand on Hailey’s bare shoulder. She dropped to her knees, curling one arm around his thigh and pressing her cheek against the front of his pants. “Whatever you need.”

  Krist took a step forward and dropped to his knees too. He dug his fingers into the waistband of Lock’s pants and tugged. Hailey pulled away so she could help. His cock sprang free, and he tilted his hips, watched them work in the mirror. Krist’s broad shoulders and dark head next to Hailey’s blonde waves and narrow back. An angel and a demon. He hissed. Both with mouths like sin.

  He didn’t look down, not yet. He knew her tongue, a warm dart against the head of his cock. A flick. Krist’s was wide and wet, sliding up the length of his shaft. Fuck. When Krist and Hailey tangled tongues at the tip, both working the same sensitive spot, pleasure coiling deep in his balls, he cupped Krist’s head and pushed him down. Letting her watch. He looked then. Her mouth open, lips slick, riveted by the sight of Krist bobbing up and down on his cock. She squeezed his ass, pushing him farther into Krist’s mouth. Bossy.

  He hissed again. He wouldn’t come this time. Not for a while. “Enough.”

  The door dinged open behind him. The suite, cool and dark, reflected in the mirror. An empty bed, waiting to be filled.

  *

  Hailey stumbled into the hotel suite, the pointy heels of her shoes tilting sideways in the plush carpet. She’d already had an orgasm in the limo. She’d tasted Lock’s come, cooling on his skin. But instead of feeling sated, she felt strung up, like a live wire in the puddle that was Krist’s unfulfilled desire.

  Lock’s clothes were already undone, and he shrugged out of them now, the soft leather and torn cotton sloughing from his body like water. His cock was already hard again, standing proudly from the cloud of black hair at the base. Lock was accustome
d to standing in the limelight. He did it now, basking in her appreciation. While Krist waited patiently. How long had he waited? Longer than this night.

  Fair play. Everyone gets a turn. These were rules Hailey taught in class, but how could she if she didn’t follow them herself?

  It wasn’t only logic that drew her to Krist. With his colorful skin and eyes filled with longing, he made a sexy sight. Soulful.

  “Get on the bed,” she murmured.

  His eyes widened. He glanced at Lock, who watched back with a hooded look. No reprieve there. No answers. He could take what she gave him or get nothing at all.

  Krist slunk to the bedroom, looking sullen, resentful. She could have believed it, almost. Except for his obedience, in a man born to rebel. Every hard line of his body promised defiance, but with Lock he was submissive. Borderline meek.

  With her too. And it turned her on to see him that way. To see him follow her order and then wait. Her sex clenched in undefined need, but which man could fulfill her, the one raising his eyebrow in challenge or the one waiting on the bed? She knew the answer to that question, at least. The man who gave her every single thing she’d never been able to ask for. The one who took all the things she’d wanted to give.

  But tonight wasn’t about her. It wasn’t even about Lock.

  She followed Krist into the bedroom and climbed onto the high, plush bedding. It felt like kneeling on a cloud between his legs. He stared at her, waiting. Anger flashed in his eyes, sweet and vulnerable. Did he know how much he gave away with every taunting phrase or bitter smile? Even Lock didn’t know. He poured his heart into his songs and called it an act. He claimed her, body and soul, and called it a contract.

  No, they didn’t know. Even she didn’t, really. They, all of them, saw what they wanted to see, and in Krist’s waiting body, she found her reprieve.

  She tugged at the hem of his distressed jeans. “Take these off.”

  His gaze went to Lock again, over her shoulder. Hailey felt his presence, knew he’d followed her into the room. Whatever look he gave Krist must have been assent, because the jeans came off. Nothing underneath. Nothing but bare bronzed skin sprinkled with dark brown hair, startling without a drop of ink. His feet had words twined around them, the y’s and f’s jutting out like thorns on a vine. But the long shins and rectangle bone of his knee, they were bare. And the furred thighs were bare too…and there. Smooth purple skin underlaid with veins. That had never been touched by a needle. Without the colorful tattoos she was used to on him, he looked far more naked. Far more innocent.

  Closer to her level, and it was a relief after looking up at Lock these past days.

  She skated her palms along the insides of his legs, enjoying his sharp intake of breath. She framed the base of his cock with her hands. It bobbed gently. The tip glistened, wet and needy. This, at least, she understood. There were no clauses to read, no bottom line to sign. Just a man in his need. Open. Honest.

  And only possible because Lock stood behind her. Because he’d orchestrated this entire thing, and that made it okay. It pissed her off to think she was that dependent on him. And yet it was only when his fingers stroked the back of her neck that she bent to kiss the crown of Krist’s cock. Only when Lock’s fingers tangled in her hair and pressed her down did she swallow more of the pulsing length.

  Lock’s voice rumbled against her ear. “God, he needs it, doesn’t he? Can you feel it? Touch him and see how much he needs this.”

  Only then did she cup the tender sac beneath his erection, velvet-soft skin pulled taut. Krist’s body jerked at her touch. He let out a groan that filled the space around her, wispy air while she still had Lock to ground her.

  She set a pace to please him, to give him peace, and Lock muttered his approval. Krist was close; she could tell by the harsh salty flavor of his precum coating her tongue, by the small, urgent thrusts of his hips. Lock’s hand left her neck, and she mourned the loss of him, the heat. He leaned over Krist instead, tracing thick black lines on his chest.

  Krist’s eyes fell shut on a moan so heavy with need she didn’t know how Lock couldn’t hear it. Though maybe he did hear it then. Maybe he’d always heard it, because he didn’t act surprised. He looked solemn, really. Accepting, as he walked his fingers up Krist’s chest. As he slipped two fingers inside Krist’s mouth and watched him suck.

  Krist’s hands clenched and opened on the bed, spastic and uneven. On any other man, with a mouth on his cock, he would have been holding back from grabbing. From thrusting. But not this time. This time it was Lock he wanted to grab, and she knew that because she wanted to grab Lock too. She wanted to press her hand to the back of his neck and push him down—the same way he’d done for her. To make him do what he really wanted.

  Neither of them needed to force the issue. Lock was ready. For this, at least, Lock was willing. He pried Krist’s mouth open with those two fingers and bent to kiss him. Though kiss may have been the wrong word. It was more like an assault, an invasion, and Krist’s whole body strung up tight to receive him. His cock pulsed in her mouth, preparing her.

  On impulse she slid a finger beneath his rounded flesh, down to the pucker beneath. Between the tongue in his mouth and the finger pressing against his asshole, it was too much for Krist. He bucked and exploded on her tongue. She swallowed the warm come he sprayed in her mouth, and pressed more firmly until warmth hugged her fingertip.

  He seemed to go on forever that way, gasping into Lock’s mouth and coming into hers. Or maybe it only felt that way as she watched them kiss, his desperation and Lock’s gratification. Lopsided and bittersweet. It was how she must look with Lock too, and so, when Krist finished, she licked his softening cock gently, thoroughly, until he was clean. She rested her cheek against his thigh and closed her eyes.

  Because she knew exactly how it felt to want something you couldn’t have. There was no fair play for love, just for sex. And everyone might get a turn, but no one could keep Lock if he didn’t want to stay.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The rough stubble surrounding Krist’s mouth abraded Lock’s lips, but he didn’t care. He liked it. The burn and then the slick heat of tongue, soothing. The guttural moans vibrating against the hand he’d splayed against Krist’s chest. Lock dug his fingernails into the swirling lines there, like he could wring a note from this beautiful body that would smooth out the discord in his head.

  Want. Take. He’d lived his life that way for so long, until it almost killed him. Until all his wanting turned bottomless and all he could do was drink and take and fuck everyone else. He’d never stop wanting, but the taking had stopped. He had control now. Only, nothing about the feel of Krist writhing beneath him felt controlled. It felt wild and reckless. And inevitable. A rock slide of lust and need. Hailey’s muffled hum of pleasure chipped away at the last guardrail.

  She lay spent and naked. Sprawled over Krist’s long leg, her cheek resting against his hip, watching him. Every soft inch of her, an invitation to destruction. A body made for giving.

  “Come up here.”

  She pushed onto her hands and knees, crawled to the head of the bed, knelt beside Krist’s shoulder and waited.

  “Do you know what he needs now?” He wondered if she’d go there. If she could take both of them at the same time. He wanted the tight grip of her ass, Krist buried deep in her cunt. He shifted on the bed, the phantom drag of knuckles through denim making his cock pulse.

  She skimmed her fingers down his arm and covered his hand with her own. Held it down, over Krist’s thundering heart. “He needs you.”

  He sucked in a breath, gut punched. He’d known, but it had never been said out loud. So simply, so plainly. Krist turned his face into the pillow, trying and failing to hide the look of longing. The desperate want. Lock couldn’t ignore it; it was so much like his own.

  Would it break them, to do this? Break him? No contract. No plan. Just taking.

  Hailey squeezed his hand again and then brushed her fingers over
Krist’s cheek. He leaned into her touch, and their eyes met. It was like writing a song together, this connection. Fumbling toward the chorus, a jumble of noise, and then yes, of course, music. Loud and violent, but theirs. Hailey smoothing the harsh edges. A bridge.

  He’d loved Krist for what felt like his whole life. He could give him this.

  *

  Hailey ran her fingers down Lock’s forearm, light touches meant to soothe. He was coming apart right in front of her. She knew how to reach him, though, with some ancient instinct. It wasn’t even a woman to a man. It was a light in the dark, water running over rock until it lost its jagged edge. She was the water here—the fluid, transient thing. The one who would be gone soon enough.

  But Lock, God. He was a rock, from the tension of his body and the clench of his jaw. And the impenetrable walls he’d built around him, falling down, crumbling.

  “You want both of us?” Lock asked tightly. At the same time, he meant. The shadowed space between them. Those jagged edges come to life.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  A black eyebrow rose, shining onyx in the dark. “Are you sure? You sound afraid.”

  Said the Pied Piper to his subjects.

  But she wasn’t afraid, not really. This was what she’d signed up for. This was why she’d come, at least partly. To experience the wild, crazy things she’d never done before. To ignore the responsibility to her sister for three days. No, not afraid. She looked over the inky waters and wanted to drown.

  “I can handle you. Both of you.” Her voice was low and throaty, the song of a seductress. That was what he’d made of her. A siren. A mermaid, and only when he dragged her under would she finally be able to breathe.

  “Turn around.” He twisted his fingers to show her. “Put your back against Krist. Let him support you.”

  Let him support you. Because Lock wouldn’t.

  Krist scooted against the headboard, unashamed in his nakedness. His muscled legs sprawled open across the rumpled bedsheets, dark against light. He was a picture of indolent relaxation, of sumptuous invitation, and she would have believed it. Would have, if she hadn’t reclined against him and felt the rat-a-tat-tat of his heart. A machine gun in his chest, the prelude to devastation.