Lost Weekend (A Rocked Story) (2 page)

With a sigh I sank into it. His slim frame belied the strength in him. Tightly muscled all over, I could feel him flexing against me as his hands roamed my back and his tongue drove between my lips.

“Now it’s perfect,” I murmured against his mouth.

“Come to bed. It gets better.”

And it did. When we went over to the bed Joe started undressing. Even after all this time together I had to stop and watch. His body was all lean muscle. In loose clothes he looked skinny, but he was so strong. From the sculpted line of his shoulders to his flat stomach and all the way down to his taut calves.

“Am I doing this alone?” he asked playfully as I sat and stared.

“Not a chance.”

“Good.” After shedding his pants and releasing the thick evidence of his arousal, he helped me tug off my clothes. When I was down to a bra and panties he tumbled us down onto the bed, slipping naturally between my thighs.

Joe kisses me on the lips lightly, but I could feel the desire building in him and he didn’t stay there long. His mouth roamed down my neck to the deep hollow between my breasts. He licked me there once and then pulled the cups of my bra down on both sides before swiping a calloused thumb over each tip, making each pucker and my back arch.

“Fuck, babe. I can never get enough of you. Every inch of soft, creamy skin so responsive to me. You’re amazing.”

“I’m not,” I said reflexively. It was hard to see what he did. Chubby in my eyes, lush curves in his.

“I’ll show you,” he whispered. His hands skimmed down over my stomach and out to my hips. He traced the roundness with light pressure, sending tingles to all of my nerve-endings. My heart was beating faster as his lips met my belly. He kissed and nibbled, licked and nudged until I was breathless.

“See? You’re flushed and dewy. So beautiful.”

And there, under the tender ministrations of his hands and mouth, I did feel beautiful. Ripe and plump in a sensual way. My core tightened and my hips shifted.

“Do you want me?”

I nodded and bit my lip.

“I should make you wait. Taste every bit of your skin. But god, with you looking up at me like that, I can’t.”

Joe growled low in his throat and reared up. He slid my panties off and unhooked my bra. Grabbing a foil packet from his pants he prepared himself and I nearly panted with desire. His fingers found my damp folds and teased there, softly searching.

I breathed his name and he entered me, slowly, gently. My eyes closed and I surrendered to the moment. Being with Joe was like coming home. Nothing ever felt so right.

“Babe, look at me.”

I forced myself to, and was overwhelmed. The love and heat in his eyes stunned and inspired me. I hooked my legs around his knees and slid my hands up his arms. Joined completely, I thought I might cry. It was silly and I should have been used to it by now, but making love to Joe invaded every part of my heart and soul. The slightest touch could make me moan, and in moments like this, when every boundary was down and nothing existed in the world but us, I felt alive in a way I’d never experienced before.

As if he could hear my thoughts, Joe kissed me on the lips, centering me. Focused again, we moved together as if we’d never been apart. My pulse pounded and my hips undulated. His tongue swept over mine and his fingers dug into my skin.

Pleasure exploded and I cried out, drawing him closer to me. Joe shuddered and collapsed on me. Clasped together in a heap, the only sound in the room was our breathing.

“Wow,” I muttered.

Joe laughed and I could feel it rumble down his body. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

“What do you mean?”

He nipped at my neck and I felt him growing hard again, and I understood.

Hours later we were cuddled up in bed together, exhausted and blissful.

“So,” Joe said. “What do you want to do while we’re here?”

“Aside from more sex? Lots more sex?”

“That goes without saying. Eighty percent of our time will be spent having sex. That leaves a little time for other things.”

“Eighty, huh? Think you’ve got what it takes?”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss my bare shoulder. “In about ten minutes I’ll show you.”

“Give me thirty. We need to eat something or we’ll be too weak for round three.”

“Four, babe. Next one is four.”

I counted in my head. “Right, sorry. Forgot one.”

Joe gaped at me. “I’m truly offended.”

Grinning, I rolled my eyes. “If your ego isn’t too bruised, maybe you can get us some food?”

“Your wish is my command.” He climbed out of bed naked and walked out of the room. I watched his strong back and tight butt retreat before collapsing back onto the pile of pillows, certain of being the luckiest girl in the whole world.

There was a lot of noise in the kitchen area and some cursing before Joe reappeared. He’d managed to pile an impressive amount of food in his arms and only dropped a few of them on his way back to me. I filed away a reminder to clean those up if I ever got out of bed. For all Joe’s impressive abilities, seeing mess was not one of them. He could walk through a room carpeted in clothes and books and papers and notice nothing. If he ever came off the road long enough to buy a place to really live, my housewarming gift would be a cleaning service.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I brought everything.”

I grinned. “So I see.” In this moment, arms full of candy and cakes and sodas and who knows what else, as he carefully shifted the pile onto a bedside table, Joe looked different. Almost like a regular twenty-something guy, his trademark spiky hair a mess and what looked like ice cream dripping down his forearm.

“So, what’ll it be? Sweet or savory?”

“Start savory and then go sweet.”

“Genius. Beautiful and smart.”

I laughed and snagged a plate of cheese and crackers from his hand.

“Those are the weirdest cookie or cracker things I’ve ever seen.”

I looked down at the crescent-shaped wafers. “They’re Rose crackers.”

“Not made with roses, I hope.”

“Capital R, for the Rose family.”

“Then I
really
hope they’re not made with Roses,” he joked. “Is there anything you don’t know about these people?”

“I hope not. I did spend almost six months researching them. Well, I was never able to find out what Jasper Rose and Andrew Franklin talked about during their little ‘peace summit’ in 1934 because all records – letters and journals – were later destroyed, but that’s pretty much it.”

“And that,” he said, climbing into bed with a beer and a plate of cold cuts, “Is why I love you.”

“My research skills and obsessiveness?”

“No. The whole country watched that trial for the juicy secrets. You decided to find the truth, the history of those families.”

I shrugged. “Just figured there had to be more behind it than rich people behaving badly.”

“I know. But most people wouldn’t really care about that. You did.”

“I guess.”

“It’s extraordinary, Liss. Plus your article was really good. I read the whole thing.”

“You did?”

“Of course. I read everything you write.”

“You’re sweet.”

“I know.”

“Jerk.”

“Yup. Wait, you know, I was wrong.”

“About what?” I asked, chowing down.

“About what I love about you.”

“What?”

“Your tits. They’re the best. All that personality stuff is a bonus, but I’m really here for the boobs.”

I picked up a pillow and smacked him in the head with it.

“Hey, be careful! I could have spilled me beer.”

We both laughed and kept eating as we talked. For all the insanity that came with dating Joe, the drama and things we’d gone through, I lived for moments like this. Alone time when we could be ourselves completely and comfortably. His polished persona fell away and my insecurities retreated. We were just a normal couple enjoying each other’s company. In a crappy apartment or an elegant hotel, we were just Joe and Liss.

The next morning I slid out of bed without disturbing Joe and went into the bathroom. I thought about waking him to join me in the shower, but didn’t. I was still pleasantly exhausted from the night before, lips swollen from kissing and what muscles I had sore from vigorous use.

As I shampooed my snarl of long, dark hair I considered all the things we could do in New York. A tiny voice in the back of my head wondered why I wanted to leave the hotel at all. But really, I wanted to see things. Walk through Central Park and go up to the top of the Empire State Building. Check out a museum or two and find an amazing restaurant to eat in. Things I couldn’t do in my hometown or on campus. Make memories to keep me warm when Joe and I had to be apart again.

That thought was enough to spur me into action. I finished my shower, slipped into a sumptuous robe that was big even on me, and padded back into the bedroom.

I’d expected to see Joe still sleeping peacefully, but he wasn’t. He was talking on the phone, frowning.

“Why does it have to be today? Get Dex to do it.” He paused and rubbed his hand over his hair. “Fine, whatever. I hope you pick one of those goddamn assistants. Someone needs to be on top of this shit.” Another pause. “Ryan, I know. I know. But I asked for a couple of days.”

I rolled my eyes and went over to my suitcase to pick out something to wear, wanting the distraction. The band’s manager, Ryan, was a total asshole. He did a good job for them, but had been a dick to me from the moment we met. Once Joe made it clear I was there to stay he’d managed to be polite, but nothing more.

“Fine,” Joe said behind me. “Give me a few hours and I’ll call you back. No, I’m taking Liss to breakfast. You can fucking wait.”

With a grin I pulled out my clothes and went back to the bathroom. Maybe it was immature and petty, but I loved when Joe yelled at Ryan, standing up for me. When I came out again he was typing something into his phone.

“What’s up?”

Joe frowned. “Ryan needs to me to do a couple of things.”

“I figured.”

“Hey,” he replied, dropping the phone and walking over to me. “Don’t be sad, okay? We still have the morning. I’ll get this shit done quick and be all yours again.”

I smiled weakly. “Okay. Well, let’s get moving, then. You get dressed and we can go out to breakfast.”

He groaned. “I was thinking room service.”

“Not a chance. We’re in New York and we’re seeing New York.”

Joe grinned. “Fine.” He snaked an arm around my waist and kissed my neck. “Wanna help me shower?”

“No,” I said, laughing. “Go get ready. I’ll pick a place.”

He pretended to pout for a second before releasing me and strolling into the bathroom. While he was gone I pulled up a map of the neighborhood and checked out reviews of restaurants. By the time I’d decided Joe was dressed. He sat at the foot of the bed, staring at me.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just concentrating really hard. It’s cute.”

“Shut up, I’m just figuring out where to go.”

“I know. But you’re really trying to find the perfect place. I love that.”

“Well, I know you have very discriminating tastes in breakfast foods.”

He chuckled. “Sure do. If you’d recommended I order waffles with rap all over them we never would have ended up together.”

I laughed at that, too. But in the back of my mind I wondered where I’d be if things had gone differently. If I had taken that night off from the diner. Or if Joe, on a search for a little peace and quiet had wandered into somewhere else. I shook my head, not wanting to even think about it.

“Well, since I know french toast with a side of bacon works for you, let’s go get some.”

“Babe, I was trying to have a moment.”

“We can have it in the elevator,” I teased, and got up to head out. We were still laughing and joking with each other when we got downstairs. There was some kind of commotion happening outside, but my attention was drawn instead to the front desk. A girl around my age who looked incredibly familiar was having a very loud argument with a woman who I thought had to be her mother. The receptionist, clearly trapped in the middle of the drama, was struggling to maintain an even expression. From across the room I could see the tension in her shoulders.