Pure Iron (3 page)

Inspiration struck. “Come on tour with us. We could use a personal chef. Food on the road is crap.”

Sonia felt insulted. She had never seen a hotel room with a kitchen. “I am not going to travel with you as your mistress under the guise of the band’s cook.”

“We’d pay you a salary.”

She stiffened in offense. “You’ll be living in hotels while on tour, right? So what would you be paying me for?” she pointed out in an icy tone. “There’s a word for a woman who accepts what you’re offering and it’s not ‘chef.’”

Mick continued to nibble at her neck, her earlobe, but she remained unyielding in his arms. With a sigh, he ceased and slid his hands to her hips, gripping the gentle flare to hold her against him.

“What do you want from me?” he asked.

“Until a minute ago, I liked you and would have said your friendship would be nice, but now I’m not so sure,” she replied angrily.

“I’ve never been friends with a woman and I don’t think I can be just friends with you,” he said candidly. “I don’t want to be just friends with you.”

“Then we’re at an impasse, because that’s all I’m offering,” she retorted, then repeated, “I don’t do flings.”

The drive back to the cottage passed uncomfortably. Mick and Sonia both attempted to start conversations, but faltered after a word or two. Finally, Mick’s long abandoned conscience found the strength to pluck at him and he apologized. It wasn’t a good apology, but it was the effort that counted, right?

“Look, Sonia, I’m sorry if I pushed you too fast,” he blurted.

Her eyes flew upward, locked onto his chiseled profile, the shoulder length, dark hair that the ocean breeze had blown wildly about his head. Unaccountably, she felt guilty. She wasn’t sure why.

“I—I—I’m sorry, too.” She sighed and turned her face away to gaze out the passenger side window for a few seconds. “It’s just that I …” and her voice died off.

“I get it,” he said gently, although he wasn’t really sure he did. Surely, she couldn’t be … nah … impossible, right? “Look, if your friend is still … er … occupied, why don’t you grab a book or whatever and spend the day at my place? You can relax; I won’t jump you.”

She looked back at him. There was nothing in his voice or his expression to indicate duplicity. And he had backed off when she told him no.

“You’re sure my being there won’t bother you? I don’t wish to impose.”

Oh, her being there would bother him, but not in the way she meant. He promised himself he would behave.

“No, you won’t be a bother,” he assured her.

The car pulled to a stop and Sonia hopped out. She looked toward her cottage and noticed a new vehicle parked out front. Mick saw an expression of uneasiness cross her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“That’s not my car,” she answered.

Mick chivalrously offered, “Would you like me to walk you to the door, make sure everything’s all right in there?”

“Yes, thank you,” she accepted.

With trepidation, she climbed the wooden steps and entered the cottage’s front room. Mick quietly entered behind her, easing the screen door closed. Empty cans and bottle and cigarette butts littered the area. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“Penny is going to clean this mess if I have to bludgeon her,” she grumbled.

A wail reverberated from Penny’s bedroom, followed by what sounded like a loud smack.

“Penny?” she exclaimed in suspicion and hurried toward her housemate’s bedroom. “Penny, are you okay?” she asked as she flung open the bedroom door just as another smack and wail resounded.

Then she gasped. And wished she could take melon baller to remove her eyeballs, but the image was burned on her brain. Penny straddled one man, while a second pumped into her from behind. A third knelt, straddling the first man’s head, his dick moving in and out of Penny’s mouth. As the penis left her mouth the man riding her smacked a buttock and she wailed.

“I’m cumming, boys!” she shouted.

Mick realized that Sonia was frozen in shock, not fascinated by the raunchy tableau. He gently tugged her back and turned her around and shut the bedroom door. He wrapped his arms around here, a gentle hug meant to soothe. With a gurgle, she wrenched herself from his embrace and raced to the bathroom. He followed her and kindly held back her hair as she vomited.

Damn it, she really was an innocent.

How did a nice girl like this end up with such a slutty roommate?

Squatting down beside her, he rubbed her back while she shuddered uncontrollably.

“Oh, my God,” she repeated over and over, running the words together.

“Brush your teeth and rinse your mouth,” Mick said kindly. “Get something to occupy yourself and we’ll head over to my place. You can even take nap in my bed if you want.”

She nodded and reached for her toothbrush. Her hands shook and the glob of toothpaste missed its target. Mick put his hands over hers to steady them and the second attempt loaded the toothbrush properly. He stood near her while she scrubbed the vile residue from her mouth. After rinsing out her mouth, she splashed cold water on her face. Mick patted her face dry with a hand towel and took her by the hand, leading her to the other side of the cottage—to her bedroom. He glanced around and saw a couple of paperback novels and picked them up. Ah, there was a lightweight sweater. He picked that up, too and draped it over her shoulders because she hadn’t stopped shivering. Perhaps the sweater would warm her up a little.

He led her out the back door to avoid the mess in the front room. Unfortunately, that way led past the other bedroom’s open window through which the sounds of vigorous fornication could be clearly heard. Sonia’s pale face went white and she gurgled. Mick hustled her along, saying quietly, “Hold it down, sweetheart. We’ll get past them in a second.”

He walked her the short distance back to his cottage. Sonia panted as though she’d run a marathon. He worried that her color hadn’t returned. He led her to a chair and she sat down, closed her eyes, and groaned.

“I need to burn that off my brain,” she whined as she rubbed her hands over her face.

The proximity of the two cottages and the open windows carried sound from one dwelling to the other. Sonia covered her ears and groaned again.

Mick paused to listen for a second, then went back out to his porch to pick up his guitar. Sonia still sat, eyes squeezed shut and hands muffling her ears, when he returned. With a glance at his guest, he sat down and positioned the guitar comfortably in his arms. Then his fingers strummed a hard chord.

Sonia’s eyes flew open. Her hands fell away from her ears.

“Focus on me, on this,” he ordered and old Metallica hit poured forth from the instrument.

The music drowned the noises emanating from the cottage next door. Sonia focused her eyes on the ripple of muscle in his forearms, the skilled manipulation of the strings, and the intent expression on his face. He glanced up at her, eyes glowing as the music claimed him. It was always thus. The music absorbed him, made him its own. He could forget everything beyond the instrument in his arms and play until his fingertips bled.

One song segued into another and soon he began to sing. The baritone voice growled the lyrics, low and throaty. Sonia let the music surround her, permeate her body until her flesh throbbed in sync with the beat.

When the final chords faded, Sonia leaned her head back against the chair and sighed deeply. She opened her mouth to thank him, but all that emerged as a soft moan.

Mick carefully set the guitar aside. His whole body trembled and his erection strained painfully at his zipper. Perhaps giving Sonia her own private concert hadn’t been such a good idea. That moan broke him. He launched himself from his chair to hers, crushed his lips to hers.

Sonia gasped at the unexpected kiss. Mick used the opportunity to spear his tongue inside her mouth. Hers tentatively flicked against his and she was lost. Mick’s hand cupped the back of her head and his other hand tugged her ponytail loose. He ate at her mouth, the utter carnality of kissing an experience so unlike any other kiss she ever had before. Her hands worked their way up his arms and around his neck to twine in his hair. Mick surged against her, his chest pressing against hers even as she arched helplessly toward him. She could not help the moan that escaped her lips.

Mick tore his mouth from hers just long enough to growl, “Bedroom.”

He rose to his feet, making sure they continued to kiss as he drew her up with him. Passion dissolved rational thought and lured her after him as he led her to his bed. His hands trembled as he slid the sweater from her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a soft heap. His hands trembled as he unbuttoned her shirt, shaking with the strain of not simply ripping it from her body. His breath caught as her breasts were revealed to him, cupped by the lacy cups of her bra. He cupped her breasts in his warm hands, swiped his thumbs back and forth over the nipple straining against the pale, peach colored lace,

Sonia gasped as arousal sizzled, a direct connection from the needy tips of her breasts to her heated core. She trembled in his hands as he backed to the bed and lowered her beneath him, one denim clad leg wedging her thighs apart. She was unsure of what to do with her own hands. But they seemed to think and act independently of her brain and slid around and down to creep beneath the tee shirt and skim the surprisingly soft skin beneath. Her palms traced the ridges and curves of hard muscles even as his hands focused attention on her breasts.

His head dipped, tracing fiery kisses along her jaw to nibble on her earlobe and then down the slender column of her neck. He moved downward to finally latch onto the puckered nipple and suck at it through the lace. Sonia moaned and her back arched as her body sought deeper contact. Mick slipped his hand behind her to unfasten the hooks of her bra. The elasticized fabric immediately contracted and he pulled the garment off her.

When had she lost her shirt? The wispy question dissolved beneath the sensual onslaught as his mouth again captured her breast. Sonia heard a high, keening sound and dimly realized it came from her. But she could not find it within herself to be embarrassed.

She felt the waistband of her shorts loosen as Mick’s nimble fingers expertly unfastened the button and zipper. She gasped and squealed when his warm hand stroked just beneath the lacy waistband of her panties. The touch seemed to trigger some latent warning in her brain.

“No, Mick,” she gasped even as her body undulated beneath him. “No. Stop, Mick.”

His entire hand eased beneath the lace and nylon and one long finger penetrated her as his mouth moved to devour her other breast. Sonia gasped again, and moaned, the sounds beyond her control.

“So tight,” he marveled as he suckled her breast and his finger stroked in and out of her.

She squirmed beneath him. “Mick, stop. We have to stop,” she pleaded hoarsely even as her body seemed to strain and reach toward something.

“Come for me,” he whispered as he moved back up her body and his thumb pressed delicately on her clit.

With another keening cry she shattered, undulating helplessly beneath him. He watched as her expression of uncertainty and fear melted into joy and wonder as the pleasure of her first orgasm radiated through her body. As the pleasure faded, awareness burgeoned.

Chest heaving as she gulped air and realized she was less than half dressed beneath her new “friend,” Sonia cried, “I can’t. Please, Mick, I can’t.”

Mick had trouble concentrating beyond the heat and wetness between her legs and the way her hands curled over his chest and the painful press of his erection against his zipper. He wanted to rage that she had led him on, teased him, but could not. It just wasn’t true and, of all things he had sworn, he would always be truthful with himself. He reluctantly withdrew his hand from her panties and brought his fingers his mouth. Her mouth opened in an astonished “O” as he licked her moisture off his fingers. God damn, she tasted good. It was a physical effort not to dip his fingers back down to collect more of her honey.

Trying to process her rejection of the explosive passion between them, his brow furrowed and he asked in a hoarse voice, “Why can’t you?”

Sonia gulped and blurted, “I’m a virgin. I—I just can’t give it away so easily.”

He eased back, physically distancing his body from hers. “Am I not good enough?” he asked, knowing that he wasn’t. Not really. He did not deserve the gift she declined to bestow upon him, the gift that he was finding it damned difficult not to take.

“I—it’s not that,” she said, closing her eyes against the roiling confusion of emotion. “I’m saving myself for my wedding night.”

Mick’s eyes widened, then narrowed: “You have got to be kidding me.”

Sonia’s eyes narrowed, too, at his incredulity. She set her hands flat against his chest and shoved. “Get off me.”

Mick wanted to howl with disappointment, but he edged backward. He could get damned near any woman he wanted with nothing more than a wink and a smile; he would not resort to force. Sonia scrambled into a sitting position and scooted away from him.

“I am not kidding you,” she said, her voice low, intense, throbbing. “This is important to me, to who I am. I’m not … I’m not like … well … you know.”

“You’re not like your slutty roommate,” he shot back. The words felt like gravel spewing from this throat and his still-engorged dick still strained for release.

”No, I’m not,” she snapped as she looked for her bra. Finding it, she jerked it back on, grimacing as the wet spot settled coldly over her right nipple. She crawled off the bed and picked up her shirt and shrugged it on. As she buttoned it, her shoulders slumped and she said, “Look, Mick, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease or lead you on. I’m really sorry. I’ll just go now and I won’t bother you anymore.”

Shame—something Mick had seldom, if ever, experienced—swelled to mix with regret. Damn it, she was taking responsibility for something that had not been her fault and the guilt of it shamed him. He reached out to catch her hand, somehow knowing that if he let her leave now, then he would lose something good and precious.

“Wait,” he bade her as his hand curled around hers. She tugged, but he did not let go. His other hand ran through his hair. “Please, wait. Just a moment.”

Sonia stopped tugging and relented. She waited while he gathered his thoughts.

“You didn’t,” he said slowly, making sure to gaze at her directly as he spoke. ‘You didn’t lead me on and you’re not a cock tease.”