Finding Her Rhythm (Backstage Pass Series) (15 page)

“What are you doing?” Well, she knew what his hands were doing—picking up where they’d left off. She moaned.

“
I have a lot to make up for.”

And when he set out to make up for something, Michael gave it his all. Over half an hour of petting, squeezing, pulling, and stroking found her naked and soaked—and his mouth hadn't even joined the party yet. He'd simply touched her, and she'd already forgotten what he’d done to upset her.

Such a bad, irresponsible girl.

For once
she didn't care. She gave herself up to the sensation of being Michael's sole focus. When his mouth finally settled into the crook of her neck, she moaned and twisted to the side, baring the vulnerable skin for his possession. Her body writhed beneath his, eager for him to race to the finish but enjoying every minute of the journey.

Slowly he meandered south, in no hurry of his own. He bypassed her breasts with a little sigh, murmuring against her dewy skin.
“Oh, Taylor, you smell so good.” His tongue traveled around her rib cage. “I want to taste every inch of you.” His breath tickled her belly button. “I can't get enough.” He sank low between her thighs.

Her modesty evapora
ted beneath his skilled touch. She let her thighs fall open, and her pelvis lift to get harder pressure from his mouth on her clit. One slow draw and her eyes rolled back in her head. Another suck and stars appeared. One more and her body went supernova.

She didn't hear the echoes of her scream until the pounding in her ears subsided, but there wasn’t time to dwell on whether anyone might have heard her. When her eyes peeked open, Michael was tearing at the zip
per of his jeans. Seconds later he pushed his way inside, her body spasming around his in delight.

Fully seated, he crowded over her once more, kissing her with a taste all his own. She lost herself in the dark push and pull until he moved to her breasts. His hips pistoned, filling her
, then retreating, while his lips suckled the stiff tips of her nipples. The combination created a tight coil of tension low in her belly, sparks of electricity feeding the frenzy, until another release hit her with the speed of a runaway train. She screamed as Michael reared back, securing her hips with his hands and driving himself to his own shout of release.

As he curled protectively around her in the bed long moments later, she melted into him, safe in the protection of his arms.

Chapter T
hirteen

“Do you have an obsession with sex in water, or just the water itself?”

Michael quickly smothered the laugh
that would totally negate his “take control” demeanor and grumbled, “Be quiet,” as he finished securing Taylor's hands behind her back.

He was developing an obsession with tying his little hottie up, both because it gave him a chance to do whatever he wanted to her and because she couldn't protest out of that mistaken sense of modesty or inadequacy she seemed to carry like spare luggage.

He wanted her. All of her. And he wasn't taking no for an answer. He stepped back to view his handiwork—the muscled lines of her lightly tanned legs fading into the pale skin of her ass. She'd gotten a little color on it from a week of him coaxing her into swimming in the buff, but it was still paler than the more often exposed parts.

Right where the dimples at the base of her spine and the little heart-shaped shadow of tanned skin rested, her wrists met, tied together with flexible coil restraints. Th
e cushion-covered wire ties anchored her wrists, then wrapped up her forearms in a sexy snake-like imitation. His erection throbbed in appreciation. Especially when he took in the blindfold covering her eyes. He was hitting all her buttons tonight.

The combination made the curve of her spine seem more vulnerable, the tilt of her shoulders an attempt at bravery. It could have been. He'd discovered all kinds of hidden insecurities in Taylor, probably exacerbated by that asshole she'd left in the dust. But she was a smart woman—eventually she'd learn he loved her just the way she was, not for what she looked like or how much she tried to please him.

Even though both were sexy as hell.

As he slid his knuckles down that vulnerable trail, he marveled that he could admit to himself that he loved anyone besides his kids and Daniel. He'd thought that
part of him was broken. But during a week of long, satisfying nights of holding her, he'd reveled in the passionate emotions she evoked in him—even though he wasn't ready to speak the words to her.

There were still
a few secrets yet to explore.

She shifted on her feet. He smiled even though she couldn't see him.
“What's the matter, babe?”

“
How long are you going to hang around back there, staring at my fa—um, ass?”

Good catch.
The first and last time she'd called herself fat in front of him, he'd spanked her ass until it glowed. Lots of fun. He slid his palm over one cheek, watching gooseflesh break out along her shoulders as his thumb traced her yummy crease. “Anxious to get started?”

“
We haven't started already?”

“
Not even close.”

He guided her through the doors into the spectacular indulgence he'd had installed in his bathroom. He'd forg
one a bathtub for a rain shower but had chosen one with walls made from swooping curves and valleys that combined to give the illusion of waves. Luckily for them, one wave in particular was the perfect height and slope for Taylor—he'd been dreaming of laying her over it almost from day one.

Standing together in the middle of the shower, Michael adjusted the water and turned on the sprays
, making sure the little nozzles in the shower walls hit Taylor in all the right places. She jumped when he directed one right over that delectable mound between her thighs.

“
Cold?” he murmured.

“
No,” she whispered.

“
Good girl.”

He took his time soaping her down, rinsing her clean, enjoying the slickness of the water between their bodies. His fingers explored every crevice, ignoring her moans and sighs. Even her muffled squeaks of embarrassment. He ached for there to be no more secrets between them.

No more vague details about her grandmother and her life away from here, no more phone calls and texts she left unanswered—at least while he was nearby.

He’d told her he would trust her
, and he wouldn’t back away from that. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, questioning the motive behind the mystery.

Standing before her, he sand
wiched his erection between their bodies. Her skin was pale in the soft glow of the shower lights, her hair a pile of golden curls secured on top of her head. “So sexy.” She panted between open lips, her need displayed for him to see clearly on her face.

He bent closer.
“Now you will do something for me.”

She moaned her acquiescence
until he started to bend her over the biggest curve. Resistance straightened her spine. “Michael,” she whined.

His slap on her ass sounded harder than it was, echoing off the walls
, stinging his palm. “Do it,” he said, eager arousal deepening his voice. He'd quickly discovered her dislike for this position, avoiding it in every way possible unless the room was pitch black. Then the shy schoolteacher transformed into a sexed-up porn star.

Another reason
he'd blindfolded her. She could pretend the room was dark if she wanted, but he would enjoy every breathtaking sight.

With a firm hand at the nape of her neck, he guided her over the curve where water ran down to warm her breasts. The sight of her alabaster skin against the copper curve was art in motion.

He followed the water to where it pooled in the bowl made by her bound arms, then lower to the curves of her ass. With a hand on each cheek, he spread her wide, ignoring her mews of distress. “So beautiful.”

His cock fit perfectly between
the globes and he slid through the narrow valley, the head nudging her knuckles where her fingers tangled together. Her slick skin was heavenly. He could watch as he thrust against her ass, squeezing her flesh around him, seeing his dickhead turn from red to dusky purple as his excitement rose.

Within a minute she was arching back against him.
“Please, Michael, please.”

“
Are you wet, Taylor?”

She choked
, then a strangled “yes” emerged.

“
Good girl. I'll just check for myself, okay?”

He
reached between her trembling thighs with questing fingers and found her naked lips plumped and slick with juice. “Ah, baby, I bet you'd taste sweet.”

Another strangled groan had him grinning. She was so easy to torture. What idiot would think a woman like Taylor would thrive under the lash of pain? A little love, a little force, and a little control were enough to shoot her off like a firecracker.

Michael didn't need to torture her with whips and chains; words and withholding were more than enough.

Finding the hard little nub of her clit, he flicked back and forth.
His favorite game.
Her breathing changed, faster than before. Cries mingled with the tempo. She played better than his favorite Les Paul guitar. Her clit hardened even more. Her juices slipped over his fingers with the water.

“
Do you need some relief, baby?” he asked. Taylor was incredibly multi-orgasmic, which had been a surprise to them both. One to take the edge off. Two to have her screaming. Three to leave her limp and sated.

She whined low in her throat, encouraging him to do his worst. Or best. Grasping the little nub between his fingers, he squeezed while keeping the friction
steady.

Her body bowed with her release, but her breath only eased a little. He smiled. She never demanded more. Never complained about not getting enough. And he found it a joy to see just how far he could push her, to learn just when she needed him to stop.

Now was not that time.

Lifting one of her legs, he bent his knees and found her core with his cock. He slid all the way to the hilt in one smooth motion, pausing to let
her body adjust. Man, he felt the ripples around his hard flesh all the way to his balls, dragging his own orgasm closer and closer.

After long moments, he slowly guided her leg back down. The tightness surrounding his cock almost blinded him—so snug and juicy. He breathed through the moment, willing himself not to go down in flames too soon.

Then he moved, and heaven descended right in the midst of his shower. He pounded her in hard, short bursts, listening to her cries as he hit the perfect spot. The sound of her moans and his groans echoed off the walls and in his ears.

When she reached the highest note, he forced himself home. Her m
ilking muscles clamped down, and he barely managed to keep from sliding into oblivion as an incredible orgasm engulfed him from head to toes.

When he opened his eyes,
the edges of reality were more than a little fuzzy.

Locking his knees, he
held on until he could orient himself. Then he withdrew and folded her into his arms. She didn't protest as he washed them both this time then dried her and carried her to bed.

When he returned
from turning off the lights, she opened her eyes a bare inch and spread her arms wide.

Settling his head against her naked breasts, his arms around her waist, he heard the faintest of notes in his mind.
The song she inspired every time they were in the same room together. As he drifted off to sleep, he smiled.

Taylor wasn’t just sexy, capable, and loveable. She was his next number one hit.

* * *

“
Taylor, why the hell wouldn't you answer my calls?”

Taylor
glanced around the car even though she knew Michael wasn't with her. Still, she couldn't stop herself. The man had peeled back her armor layer by layer. Even though he knew the most intimate details about her, she couldn’t bring herself to admit her mistakes had gained her a stalker.

“
I'm sorry, Stephen. I've just been busy.”

“
What if I'd been calling about Bradley? Or your granny?”

She knew G
ranny was okay, because she'd checked in with the nursing home every day. The fever her grandmother had run before kept returning on and off, so they were monitoring her closely.

“
I texted you back. What more do you want?”

“
I'm worried. Bradley made bail for his latest stupidity and has disappeared. My nose is grateful, but that doesn’t make me worry less. Even the PI I use for my client work hasn't been able to find him. And he's the best there is.”

She thought for long, silent moments.
“But this could be good, right? Maybe he left town? Maybe he didn’t want any more trouble with the law?”

“
Maybe. But I don't trust it. I just want you to stay at the house for now.”

Guess she shouldn’t mention where she was.
“How am I supposed to do that without explaining my refusal to leave?”

“
You haven't told him yet?”

“
No.”

“
Why not?”

She wasn’t entirely sure why she couldn’t bring herself to tell Michael the truth, but s
he mumbled, “Maybe I don't want him to know how bad it is…how crazy Bradley is. What if he sends me away, because he thinks I’m a danger to him or the kids?”

Stephen sighed.
“It’s not safe, Taylor. You have to tell him.”

Not a conversation she looked forward to having, even with a man who had learned to play her body like a true musician.
“Okay. I'll do it tonight.”

“
Wait, are you in your car?”

“
Well, yes. Today's my day off, Michael's jamming with Daniel—whatever that means—and I've got errands to run. Don't worry, I haven’t seen anything weird.”

“
I don't know, Taylor—”

“
Look, I just have to check my PO box and then I'll be back to the estate. Easy-peasy, okay?”

“
Good Lord, you are as hard to control as my four-year-old.”

“
Well, it isn't my fault she uses her Shirley Temple curls and blue, blue eyes for evil and not for good.”

Stephen groaned while Taylor laughed.

“Just take care of yourself, okay?” he finally said.

“
Sure thing.”

That's exactly what she planned to do. If only life didn't have
other plans. She knew as soon as she picked the envelope out of the mail in her post office box a few minutes later that it was bad. Very bad. She sat trembling in her car, afraid to open it. The block letters on the front didn't disguise Bradley's handwriting.

Maybe she should take it to Stephen?

Then she remembered the anxious tone in his voice. She'd caused enough trouble at this point. Whatever it was, she would handle it herself.

YOU THINK YOU'RE SOMETHING ELSE, RUNNING AWAY. DON'T YOU, TAYLOR? BUT ONLY BAD GIRLS RUN SCARED. BAD GIRLS WHO NEED TO BE PUNISHED.

Taylor's heart pounded in the base of her throat, leaving her feeling like she couldn't breathe.