Home > The Rocker That Savors Me (The Rocker #2)(18)

The Rocker That Savors Me (The Rocker #2)(18)
Author: Terri Anne Browning

After a few minutes of him holding me like that, he stepped back enough so there was a few inches of space between us. His hand was still on my hip, though, and I looked up at him through my lashes. “I knew you were going to blow my mind, Layla,” he murmured in a passion filled voice, “but I had no idea that you would bring me close to blowing my load with just a kiss.” He brushed a soft kiss across my forehead. “I’ve never been that affected by a kiss. Not even when I was fifteen and experimenting for the first time.”

“I’m pretty affected myself,” I assured him in a quiet voice.

Those eyes darkened even more, and I longed to chart them, to watch while he experienced every emotion known to man and witness how many colors they could actually turn. “Have dinner with me tonight.” He lowered his head to brush a tender kiss across my cheek. “I promise not to seduce you unless you ask me too.”

That could be a problem; because I was sure that I wanted him to seduce me. I licked my lips. “I…I can’t tonight.” I whispered, regret clouding my voice. “Lucy has school in the morning and I…I want to, but…”

“Shh... Sh.” He kissed my other cheek, just the barest touch of warm damp lips to my soft skin. “Okay, not tonight. Saturday then. Dinner. Maybe a few drinks at this bar that has live bands?”

Slowly I nodded. “I can do Saturday.”

Another kiss, this one to the tip of my nose. “I can’t wait.” Then he stepped back, his hand moving to his crotch to adjust himself. I watched unashamedly as he tucked it into a more comfortable position. Fuck me!

Just as he stepped back Emmie’s voice came from the direction of the office. She was on the phone but walking toward the kitchen. “If that’s what it takes, that’s what you have to do. No, that’s not acceptable. Make sure it gets done!”

She was muttering to herself as she entered the kitchen. Either she didn’t feel the sexual tension in the room or was ignoring it as she went to the stove and lifted a strip of crispy bacon from the paper towel lined plate that I had placed the bacon on to drain. “Do you know how hard it is to get stupid people to do smart things?” she asked no one in particular.

“How hard is it, Em?” Jesse asked casually as he moved around the island and sat down.

“Near fucking impossible.” She rubbed her hand over her distended stomach while she shoved another strip of bacon into her mouth. “But that’s just my luck today.”

I cleared my throat of the remaining desire and turned back to the eggs. “Can I fix you something, Jesse?”

“That would be great, Layla.” He was watching me, and I had to fight my desire to turn around and look at him while I scrambled his eggs. When I started to place some bacon on his plate he stopped me. “No, please no. I can’t stomach bacon.”

Emmie laughed. “Poor baby.”

“It’s all your fault, too!” he accused as I placed his plate in front of him. “I hate the very smell of bacon now. How can you stand to eat it on everything, Em?”

She shrugged, shoving yet another strip into her mouth. “The baby wants it, so the baby is going to get it.”

Jesse

I woke the way I had the last several mornings. With an erection that was on the verge of painful and my hand working it as the remnants of my dream flashed behind my closed lids.

Layla on her knees as she sucked my cock. Her hair wrapped around my hands as I thrust into her hot, fuck-able mouth. She swallowed half of me, I could feel the back of her throat as I slid down—damn the girl had no gag reflex! I squeezed my dick harder and pulled down on the sac beneath, trying to make the pleasure last as I jacked at a speed that should have caught my dick on fire.

With a muffled shout, I erupted into my hand, my breathing ragged, my heart racing. I had to have that little goddess. I had to have her soon!

A shave and a shower, and then I pulled on my jeans before going in search of some breakfast. The fact that I had heard Layla moving around in Drake’s room a little while ago had made me take my time shaving. The thought of seeing her made me hard again despite the release I had brought myself just a short while ago.

When I found her making breakfast I couldn’t resist having a taste of her sweet lips. I needed to know if they tasted as good as they had seemed to in my dreams. Fuck, I hadn’t expected her kiss to make me practically blow my wad then and there. A simple kiss, innocent enough, but it had packed the force of a hurricane I was so blown away from it.

I was disappointed when she turned me down for dinner, but I understood her reasons. I could also see that she really wanted to go out with me. It scared the fuck out of me, because I had never been on a date before. Being a rocker didn’t require me to wine and dine a chic before I fucked her brains out. But I still asked her out. Layla deserved the wine and dine treatment, even if all we were doing was grabbing dinner and seeing a local band at a bar…

“I hate this,” Emmie muttered as she scooted back on the exam table. She was naked from the waist down with a sheet over her legs. When the nurse had asked her how she was feeling, Emmie had admitted to feeling some pressure low in her hips. The next thing I knew she was telling Em to strip.

I had turned my back to give her some privacy. It felt wrong to see Emmie naked now when it hadn’t in the past. Hell, I had seen that girl naked more than any other female that had ever been in my life, but there had never been even a twinge from my dick at the sight of her nakedness. Sure, I had appreciated the view; the girl was smoking hot. When it came to my other head, he was completely lifeless when presented with her naked body.

Now that she was pregnant, with my best friend’s kid no less, I felt a little perverted seeing her female parts.

“What are they going to do?” I asked, unsure what to expect.

Emmie made a sour face. “Oh, nothing really. They are just going to put their fingers in there and see if I’m dilated or something.”

I blanched at the thought of watching someone putting their hands on and in my Emmie. Suddenly, I wished that I had gone into the studio and insisted that Nik take her to this thing. There was a knock on the door and a man in his late forties walked in with a frown on his face and his glasses half way down his long nose.

“Good afternoon, Miss Jameson.” The doctor greeted in a professional tone as he looked down at her files.

“Doctor Chesterfield.”

The doctor raised his head and gave me a once over before offering me his hand. “You must be one of Emmie’s ‘guys’.” He gave me a half smile.

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