Hot wired series box set, p.100
Hot Wired Series Box Set, page 100
part #1 of Hot Wired Series
Five days later, in a panic, Sugar called her twin. The moment Luc answered, Sugar said, “Tell me to get on the fucking plane.”
“Ooo... curse words. About goddamn time.” Candy wrappers crinkled in the background. “Aren’t you supposed to already be on the plane?”
“I’m staring at the ramp and the last call was made.”
“Where’s the eye-candy?”
“You’re not helping. Tell me to get on the plane and return home.” She panted at the fear rolling through her. Afraid she made a mistake if she got on the plane, and afraid if she left she’d regret her decision. In less than a week, she’d become attached to Derringer a lot more than she’d thought possible. She wanted him more today than she had when she met him in his attorney’s office. “Tell me I have a career in Nawlins that needs my attention. Tell me I don’t have time for a man in my life.”
“Have you fucked him yet?”
Sugar snarled, “Luc!”
“Don’t even think of leaving L.A. until you’ve tasted that boy-toy. That’s an order from your way more knowledgeable lil sis.”
Rolling her eyes, Sugar slumped into a seat, incapable of making herself get on the airplane. Luc’s experience with men was questionable, so she ignored the advice. “Jack left yesterday.”
“Jack’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.”
Not what Sugar meant, and Luc knew it. “If I stay—”
“You’re making a mistake if you leave. Dusty has the shop under control. No regrets, Sugar.”
Of course, Dusty managed the shop without issues, that concern never entered her mind. She owned a third of the shop and could be bitchier than Sugar.
“Why do you think leaving is a mistake?”
Luc snorted, her silent way of saying ‘you fucking know so don’t act stupid’. “I look forward to meeting my brother-in-law, Sugar. Don’t disappoint me. Gotta go. Chat with you later.”
In typical Luc fashion, she disconnected without a goodbye. Sugar looked to the boarding gate... go or stay?
The worker shut the doors, and a near panic swept through her when the choice was no longer available to her. Sugar sat in the airport for another twenty minutes watching travelers move about before she grabbed her backpack and retraced her steps to the exit. Her luggage would return home without her, but she could purchase clothes until she went home.
Mostly she worried she’d made a blunder staying, but the excitement she felt at choosing to remain in L.A. for a little while longer outweighed that fear.
Two weeks later, Sugar lingered in Los Angeles. She should’ve returned home but found one excuse after another to keep shacking up with Derr. Luc, of course, encouraged her choice to stay, but shared her disappointment at their lack of sex.
In the beginning, Sugar had been fascinated by her inexplicable obsession with him. After two weeks with the rock star, she’d fallen hard. At least Sugar thought this was what love felt like. A mix of scary and giddy, and her pulse escalated any time she was around him. She missed him when they were separated, even for an hour. She loved touching him and loved that he hung out in her space, wanting to touch her. That normally irritated her, but not with Derr, so all the snuggling was a novelty for her.
“Hey, June bug, what’cha up to?” Her dad, Mac Malone, answered his phone as she navigated afternoon L.A. traffic in her rented Jeep Wrangler.
“Headed to the airport to pick up Dusty.” Derr had volunteered to join her, but he’d had work to do with the guys at Jase and Fang’s house and she hadn’t wanted him to cancel on account of her when she was an independent freaking woman. She missed hanging with him or the other Hot Wired women though, that much she couldn’t deny.
“How long are you staying in sin city?”
“That’s Vegas, Daddy.”
Her father grunted. “You know everything bad starts in California. Hollywood is as sinful and disgusting as Vegas.”
She rolled her eyes. “Everything bad in my life started in Nawlins.”
“Blasphemy, girl, that’s blasphemy. Now quit avoiding the question.”
Inhaling, she checked her left side mirror before changing lanes. “I met a guy.”
Dead silence for a long minute. “Uh huh, funny.” His lack of amusement came through loud and clear in the agitated drawl she’d heard a billion times in her life. “I’m busy, Sugar. I have a pregnant gator that needs feedin’, so what’s your real reason?”
“Derringer Ramos. I told you, I met a guy. Wasn’t joking about that.”
“Lord, God. You’re not shittin’ me.” He mumbled something she couldn’t decipher. “You can’t hook up with a Californian. Your great-grandma, Lucille, will roll over in her grave. She’ll haunt you.”
“Californian’s aren’t all Satanists.” In all honesty, she had no idea where Derr stood on God and she couldn’t care less either.
“I beg to differ. Please don’t tell me he’s a celebrity.”
“Okay.” Not admitting that tidbit wouldn’t hurt her dad right now, and the truth could be revealed later.
“Fuck a goddamn gator, you answered that too quick. He is a celebrity, isn’t he?”
“Daddy—”
“You’ve met a pansy ass motherfucking preppy starlet and you’ve fallen for him.”
“He’s not preppy.” Maybe a little.
“What type of voodoo do they use out there to make you fall for one of them?”
“Daddy, you’re being a drama king and you know I hate that.” She’d been avoiding this conversation because she’d known he’d react this way. “He’s a good guy and he takes care of his mom.”
“I take care of your grandmom.”
Now he sounded defensive. “And you’re a good guy.”
“I bet he’s citified.” He sniffed like that was an affront to his scruples.
“He is, but so am I.”
“You were raised right. I can’t help you went against your upbringing.”
“God help me,” she whispered.
“God’s gonna need to help your boy when I get through with him.”
“He’s a man, Daddy, and I like him. I’ll give you a couple of days to wrap your head around this, but when I call you again I expect a better attitude.”
“June bug—”
“Don’t ‘June bug’ me. I like Derr—”
“What the fuck kind of name is dare?” He and Derr would get along when it came to cursing.
“—and I want you to meet him, but I won’t let you badger and bully him.”
“Maybe your grandmom will poison him.”
“She won’t because she’s nicer than you.” He grumbled about misbehaving daughters, how they broke their daddy’s hearts, and how she’d be the death of him. Sugar would’ve rolled her eyes if she hadn’t been taking the exit to the airport. “There’s also one other thing.”
“Don’t tell me I can’t take him into the swamp and show him around.”
She shuddered at the idea, not because she thought her dad would truly harm Derr, but because she couldn’t imagine her city slicker spouse in the swamp. “He’s my husband, so I expect you to like him either way.”
Had she thought there was dead silence before. She’d been dead wrong because the thickness between them was strong despite their physical distance.
“You got fucking married?” Mac exploded, and she could picture him leaping to his feet or kicking a can in the yard. “And didn’t invite me and grandma?”
“Yup. I’ll explain how it happened later, but none of our family was there so you weren’t singled out for being a southern ass.” She could hear his breath heaving. Sugar loved her dad, but the man was gruff and damned near impossible to deal with sometimes. “I’ll call you in a day or so.”
“Tell me you’re shittin’ with me, Harriet.” He was angry if he was busting out the big guns of her real name.
“I’m not. Love you. Talk to you soon.” Sugar disconnected the call feeling a teensy bit guilty about the way she left him hanging. The guilt would be worse if he was a sane, rational person. He wasn’t just freakishly protective of his two little girls, but his hatred toward California was ridiculous. She knew him well enough to discern he was too angry to be reasonable. He’d need some time to chill out before they could talk again.
THIRTY
IT’D BEEN JUST OVER three weeks since Derr discovered his wife was none other than the one woman he hadn’t been able to get out of his head for three years. When she’d called him and said she’d missed her flight, he’d been delighted to return to the airport and pick her up. An extra night with her what he’d needed to cure his sudden malaise at losing her to her job and hometown. He understood and supported her, but damn the ride home had been lonely. The idea of entering his home with nothing more than Kallie to look forward to, depressing.
As he’d swung around to the curb and parked, he’d wondered where her luggage was. He stepped out of his Land Rover and walked around the vehicle.
Before he could ask where her baggage was, she’d said, “I didn’t miss the flight, I just didn’t get on it.” He stopped in front of her and stared at her, noting how she wrung her fingers together, and waited for her to say whatever was on her mind. “I couldn’t make myself leave you,” she’d admitted on a rush. “I called Luc and demanded she tell me to get on the plane, but all she kept saying was ‘no regrets’. I knew I’d regret leaving.”
Exhilaration slammed into him and he’d wanted to tell her he loved her right then but kept his fucking tongue quiet for once. While he’d been ecstatic by her confession, she’d seemed unsure with her fingers twisting together and her inability to hold his gaze, like he’d reject her.
He never wanted her to doubt where she stood in his life, not ever again.
Right there on the curb of the airport’s drop off/pick up area, he’d snatched her to him and kissed the hell out of her, making sure every emotion he felt had been seeded into the smooch, and praying she’d understand his emotions. Putting her against the passenger side door of his SUV, he’d pressed his crotch into her core and cupped either side of her face as his tongue tangled with hers. Cameras had clicked and shuddered, paparazzi and fans alike memorializing the moment.
“I fucking can’t wait to get to know you better, Harriet Malone,” he muttered against her lips before going in for another searing kiss.
“Sir... Ma’am,” someone cleared their throat, “this is a no parking zone and you’re causing a traffic jam. Move along.” Airport security had nodded at him when he put Sugar in the passenger seat.
That’d been two weeks ago. She got along great with his family and band, his mom adored her, and his dad told him to put a ring on her finger before someone else snatched her up. His nephews knew she hung the moon and stars, a goddess in all their eyes, especially Jordan who was an artsy boy. When Sugar had taken the time to show him how to draw a few things, his normally shy demeanor had evaporated, and they’d become best friends. If Sugar wasn’t with Derr, all the kid talked about was her.
Derr wasn’t just smitten with her but had decided he wanted a life with her. He plunked down a few notes on his piano, saving them to his tablet to go along with the song he worked on. By email yesterday, Fang had given him a few extra lines to add and Derr was just about ready to send the second draft to his singer.
The door opened, and he heard Sugar yell her signature line, “Lucy, I’m hooome.”
She yelled the same thing every time she returned home.
God, I hope she eventually calls me home.
Smiling, he opened up his email and sent the second draft of the song. Fang could tweak it better than he could and since his buddy now had the chords Derr heard the song in, Fang would be able to work with the lyrics better. It was the way he worked with his friend. Had for years, but they’d made magic working this way together.
Turning to straddle his piano seat, he grinned at her. “I missed you, sweetheart.”
“I missed you too, Smurf.” She glanced around. “We alone?”
“Mona’s off today.”
She dropped her purse on top of his piano. Keys would’ve had a heart attack if anyone put something on his precious baby, but Derr’s piano wasn’t as pricey as Keys’.
“How on earth do you survive without Mona for a day?” his gal teased with a saucy grin.
“The struggle is real,” he said, watching her seat herself on his bench.
Facing him, she slid close enough to wrap her legs around his waist, the back of her thighs resting over the top of his. “I can take your mind off your problems.”
“Mmm... I like the sound of that.” He grasped her hips, barely refraining himself from holding her motionless while he dry-humped her. Nothing romantic about that, but goddamn she heated his blood.
She rubbed her nose against his. “You smell good.”
Every fucking time he took a run, she told him he smelled good afterward. He’d decided her nose was messed the fuck up. “I smell like sweat.”
“Yeah, like a man.”
He chuckled. “Whatever excites you.”
“You excite me.”
Already hard from the moment she climbed onto his bench, their attraction couldn’t be equal because he was a walking, talking hard-on 900 percent of the time. He felt physically out of control around her, but mentally the happiest he’d ever been. “I bet not nearly as much as you excite me.”
Sugar rocked her hips, grinding her pussy against his dick. Putting her lips against his without kissing him, she said, “I’m so wet I’m surprised you don’t feel it through our shorts.”
Without thinking, he moved his hand off her hip and pushed it between their bodies. Staring into her eyes, he trailed his fingertips across the seam of her cotton shorts and groaned at the dampness he discovered. He must’ve given away his delight with his expression because she smirked at him.
Holding her gaze like he always did when he touched her—her face was expressive, and she hid nothing from him, he loved that about her—Derr slid his mouth across hers. The cushion of her lips soft and he knew they’d pillow against his. He opened his mouth and she followed, allowing him inside. She never fought for control when he took the lead, unless he went slower than she preferred, then she would press for more. He got off on going slow because it prompted her to take the lead and she seemed as comfortable leading as following.
Not today though. Today he needed more from her than a few kisses. Turning sideways on the bench, he stood, lifting her with him and she wrapped her legs tighter about his waist. His palms on her ass secured her to him as he carried her to the sofa.
Derr settled her on the couch and sank over her, putting a knee between her legs as she lowered them from around his hips. To the sound of the ocean drifting in through the open doors, he settled into kissing her. Tongues rolling against one another and her hands roaming his shoulders and back.
Pushing to his knees, he reached behind his head and clenched the fabric of his shirt. He tugged it over his head. “I should shower first.”
“Shower later. I need to come first.”
The desperation in those words halted his movements. Flushed cheeks, parted lips, her breasts rose and fell with her breathing. The fine strands of her strawberry blonde hair draped over the side of the furniture.
Sugar shifted her leg to rest her foot on the floor, opening herself to him. He knew women well enough to know it was a calculated move to keep him interested. If only she realized how interested he was in her, she would know she had no need to entice him further.
The tattoos on her thighs had intrigued him since the first day and he’d spent time tracing each one and asking what’d inspired her to get them. The nun tattoo was his favorite.
Trailing his fingers along the unusual nun ink he admired the detail and the accuracy of the artwork that fit her personality to a T. The left side of the nun was in her typical garb with rosary beads, while the other side was a purple haired, goth woman with a tattoo gun tatting a teddy bear. She’d confessed to getting the ink because it represented her desire to be the good girl her dad expected, but warring with her inner self to publicly be who she really was. The zombie tat represented her rise from the death she’d felt by being suppressed by those around her.
On her left leg was a guy on her thigh—just because she loved men—with a girl shooting the bird in a shh manner below that. Again, it was a representation of her polite southern upbringing and her big ole fuck you to those who held preconceived expectations of how a southern woman should act.
She sat up and ran her palms over his abdomen and kissed his chest. “Derr?”
THIRTY-ONE
IF DERR PUT A stop to their make out session, she might suffocate him with his sofa pillow. He’d worked her up a hundred times only to halt before they made it to the really good stuff. She’d gone almost a month without getting off and she was done. She craved an orgasm like a chocolate junkie craved chocolate.
At this angle, he was above her and she peered up at him as she littered his chest with kisses. She bit a pec and cupped his ass. That resulted in movement, had him burying his hands in her hair and tugging her head back.
He kissed her, tongue loping about hers. His other hand curled around her throat in a possessive manner that had more moisture pooling between her legs. That same hand shifted downward in a slow glide between the valley of her breasts. He fisted the hem of her shirt and pulled the garment up above her bra. Breaking free of her mouth, he made a little tugging move on her hair and she took it as a silent gesture to lay down.
Instead of cooperating, she reached around her back and unhooked her bra. That move resulted in him coiling his fingers in her hair and him pulling her down by the strands to lie flat. Sugar watched his face as he used his other hand to push her bra upward. The boob holder caught on her nipple and dragged across the sensitive flesh.
A small whimper left her as she bit her bottom lip.
“Christ, you have fantastic tits.”
Nothing romantic about that. The words were harsh, but she wasn’t a woman who required romance or sweet words. The expression on his face, one of awe and adoration, were better than any eloquent words and left her clit throbbing.
