The Bad Boys of Summer Anthology(24)

Bowing my head briefly, I’m relieved that I’m sitting down, so he can’t see how wobbly my knees are. How would I have reacted if he told me that they have been together? What would I have said? Would I have walked out if he said yes?

“Sorry I asked,” I reply. When he strokes the right side of my face, I tilt my head slightly, welcoming his touch, moaning as his fingertips brush over the sensitive spot behind my ear.

“Terra’s just with the band, Ky. After we’re done here, you’ll never have to see her again.”

In this business, there’s a slim chance of that happening, especially if Hazard Anthem goes mainstream. As long as I work for my brother, there’s pretty much no chance in hell I’ll be able to avoid Terra in the future. I narrow my eyes at Wyatt. “Why are you telling me this?”

He releases a rough sound, dragging his large hands over the strong features of his face. “Because you looked like you wanted to choke the shit out of her when you said her name.”

Based on the way he reacted last night, if Nate—or any other man—texted me well after midnight, he’d wear the exact same look. Still, I suck my cheeks in, and I deny that crap. “I don’t know Terra well enough to want to choke her, babe.”

Wyatt’s eyes challenge mine, but I glare back until he rises from the bed. “If you say so.” When my eyebrows crease together, he takes my hands in his, pulling me roughly to my feet. “Come on. Shower.”

As I search through my bag for body wash, he claims to have left one of his bags inside the Suburban. When he returns five minutes later, I’m already standing beneath the showerhead, washing my hair and softly humming “Crazy on You.” He sets something on the outside of the tub before stripping down.

“Find what you were looking for?” I ask when he parts the curtain. I glance around him to see what he brought into the bathroom, but he jerks the fabric closed, his blue eyes dancing with amusement and desire.

“Looks like I have.” Pressing his hands into the small of my back, he yanks me flush against his naked body. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Ky.” He lowers his mouth to my nipple, tugging it between his straight teeth, gently at first and then a little harder.

“My boobs weren’t in the Suburban,” I point out between gasps. Dragging my hands across his chest, I squeeze one of his nipples and then the other. He curses in surprise and catches my hands, linking our fingers.

“Smartass.” He kisses my fingers before releasing them. “Close your eyes.”

Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I shake my head. “Absolutely not, not until you—”

He spins me around, so I’m facing away from the showerhead. He covers my eyes with his hand. “Can you just listen for once?”

Pressing his body up against my back, he traces his tongue along each of my shoulder blades, sending all my senses into a chaotic frenzy, before kissing the spot in between. My muscles go taut as his mouth continues to move against my damp skin.

“I wouldn’t be nearly as fun if I followed orders,” I say despite my shallow breathing.

“So fucking true.” Lowering his fingers from my eyes for a second, he leans over to grab whatever it is on the other side of the tub. He’s back behind me, blindfolding me with his hand, before I can sneak a quick glimpse.

The surprise angle is getting really annoying, really fast. “So, why are we—” And then, I feel something new, something startlingly frigid. It’s being held between his fingers against the folds of my sex, and I cry out. When I start to shiver away from the chill, he uncovers my brown eyes, moving his hand down to cup my breast.

“Ice?” I gasp.

As if to answer me, he traces the cube around my clit, grazing it back and forth until all that’s left are his fingers stroking my center. He builds me up quickly, and I begin to shudder.

And then, suddenly, he stops. “Not yet, beautiful.”

“Dick,” I say between clenched teeth.

He slaps my ass and then flings aside the shower curtain. He dips his fingers inside the metal bucket full of ice. When he stands upright, I glance back over my shoulder, letting my eyes fall to his palm and the two cubes he’s holding.

“Remember that night in Ohio a couple years ago?” he demands.

“Thought you said no more reminding me of the past.”

“You want me to stop?” he whispers into my ear. Hesitantly, I shake my head. “Didn’t think so.”

He reaches around me, slicking the cubes over my breasts until my nipples tighten, and I realize that this is incredibly different from the night we spent in Ohio after a show several months ago. It was directly following one of our reconciliations a few weeks after blackbird tattoo number sixteen. Once the argument about his latest one-night stand was over, the lovemaking began, and we quickly forgot about the ice. By the time we fell asleep, it was nothing more than a bucketful of water.

Tonight, on the other hand, he seems to have the intention to use every single piece on my body. As if he guesses my thoughts, he glides a piece down my spine and stops at the small of my back, letting the remaining coolness trickle down. I suck a breath in through my teeth.

“I want to see the look on your face, Ky.”

Another piece of ice slides between my thighs. This time, he holds it against my center until I reach both hands behind me, searching for anything to hold on to. One hand finds his hip while the other grips his dick, feeling it strain against my palm.

“Fuck,” he says in a low voice. “Turn around.”

I know what he’s about to do the second he grabs a small handful from within the ice pail. He begins to kneel down in front of me, but I stop him and bring his hand to my mouth. Keeping my chocolate brown eyes glued to his, I wrap my lips around the ice, my fingers clenching on to his wrists as I slide each piece inside my mouth.

Before he can stop me and before the frigid sensation is gone, I skim down the length of his slick body until my knees touch the warm shower floor. As soon as I take his cock into my mouth, gripping his hips hard as I adjust to his size combined with the ice cubes, he cups the sides of my face, gazing down at me.

“God, Kylie,” he groans as I move my mouth faster, harder around his cock.

Once the ice melts away, I grab more, but my lips never break contact with his body. I touch the ice directly to his erection, and he makes a noise in the back of his throat as I trace cold circles around him.

Finally, his hands knot into my hair. “This is dangerous,” he warns.

I glide my tongue over all the spots where the ice has just melted, and then I lean back, staring up at him. His blue eyes are soft with desire and fatigue.

“I want it to be dangerous,” I whisper before lowering my lips.

He holds my face between his hands, massaging my temples, as my mouth explores him while my fingers continue to dig into his hips. He moans when I encircle my hands around the base of his cock, pushing and pulling him to me, and when he releases, he says my name. He’s still saying it as he pulls me to my feet.

He wraps my legs around his toned waist and pins me roughly to the shower wall. “Let me touch you, beautiful.”

I clutch on to his shoulders, nodding. “God, I need you to.”

He pushes his fingers between my slick folds, thrusting two in and out of me. As he moves his hand in a quick tempo, his palm teases my clit until I climax.

Even then, he’s left me begging for more. “I want all of you,” I whisper frantically against his mouth. “I fucking need you.”

He doesn’t say a word as he carries me into the other room to the king-size bed, our bodies still dripping wet from the shower, but his eyes tell me exactly what I want to know.

He needs me just as much.



A few hours later, we’re still awake as the first glimpse of the Albuquerque sunlight creeps into our room. The side of my face is pressed against his chest, and I listen to him quietly hum something that sounds like an off-key Chevelle-inspired medley featuring “Send the Pain Below” and “Wonder What’s Next.” He adds in words every once in a while I rub my thumb and forefinger in gentle circles over the All Does Not End Well tattoo on his neck.

Sleepy laughter bubbles from my chest as I prop myself up on my elbow. “You’re the worst singer I’ve ever fucking heard.”

“The worst?” He shoots me a look of disbelief. “I’m sure you’ve heard worse.”

I shake my head slowly. He caresses my shoulder and the curve of my ass, causing a delicious tingle to spread through my body, as he guides me on top of him.

“Sorry, McCrae,” I say. I move my hips against him, and he slides his fingers from my shoulder down to my side, so he can grip my ass with both hands. “Stick to using your hands.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he sucks on the tip of his thumb before pressing it to my clit, and then I’m blissfully lost.



As much as my body and brain is desperate for some rest, I get very little. Heidi surprises me by showing up at my room at 9:47 a.m. She’s dressed for the day and wearing a satisfied grin that can only come from one thing—sleep.

“Where’s Wyatt?” she questions, trying to peek inside my room.

I ease the door closed until nothing more than a tiny sliver of light is between us. She narrows her eyes but doesn’t try to sneak another glance.