Hot wired series box set, p.81
Hot Wired Series Box Set, page 81
part #1 of Hot Wired Series
“You leave next week for Thailand and we kick off our tour right after.”
“Yeah, bummer.” She’d miss him, but at least they had video chat. And they’d agreed to meet up when they had a few days free. “I’ll miss your face so much, but your dick more or maybe your tongue. Hmm...” She squinted at him. “Now that I think of it I’m not sure which of the three I’ll miss more, but I’ll miss you most of all.”
He smiled. “Marry me, Bama girl.”
“What?” No way she’d heard him correctly. “I think my hearing’s off.”
“Your hearing is fine.”
Instead of repeating his question he popped the lid on a small wooden box. Nessa’s breath whooshed from her lungs at the sight of the glittering ring nestled inside red velvet. “Holy shit.” The rock was huge. Enormous. The diamonds around it weren’t flecks either. “How much does that thing weigh? Gotta be five pounds at least.”
“Stop joking. I’m serious.” She could tell that by his expression and he knew she had a tendency to joke when she was nervous. “Marry me before you leave.”
Nessa sat up, the sheet falling to her lap and his gaze fell to her naked breasts.
He dragged a calloused finger across her nipple. “I want to wake up to these for the rest of my life.”
I want to wake up to the look you give them for the rest of my life.
She hoped he never stopped looking at her like this. “Be serious, Keys. We can’t pull a wedding together in a week.”
She wasn’t even sure his momma liked her, but maybe Nessa would grow on her like a fungus. She could hope, but in the end didn’t much care since Rosa liked her.
“Not a big wedding. But we can have a private affair on the balcony of my penthouse with just family and close friends in attendance. When I come off tour and you’re not saving the world, we can plan something bigger.”
Staring at him, she attempted to wrap her head around his proposal. She’d never envisioned a big wedding for herself. He must’ve taken her silence as her wavering because he went on.
“I want to start my tour knowing you’ve become Vanessa Cornell. That way if the tour is a bomb, I’ll have experienced the best moment of my life before it starts.”
“Vanessa Cornell, huh?” It rolled off the tongue easily and she liked the way it sounded. He definitely did because every time the modified name was said, his nostrils flared. “What about Vanessa Hayes-Cornell instead?”
“Sounds okay for the modern woman, I guess.”
She poked him on the shoulder. “I am a modern woman, silver spoon.”
“Georgina Vanessa Hayes, stop fucking with me and tell me you’ll marry me.”
“Yes, I’ll marry you, silver spoon.”
Keys practically tackled her to the bed and gave her a blistering kiss. When he had her panting, he caught her hand and slid the ring on her left hand.
Nessa lifted her arm and looked at the heavy engagement ring. It glittered in the dull bedroom light.
“If you don’t like it, we can swap it for something more your style.”
She trailed her fingertip with the ring along his jaw, admiring his glinting smile more than the glinting ring. “I love you, but you know I can’t wear it when I work.”
In the seedy sections she traveled to, she’d be in danger of getting mugged if she wore this ostentatious rock.
He shrugged. “A ring is an outward show of love. I’d rather you be safe than put anything on your finger for no other purpose than to show people you’re taken.” He laced their fingers together and held them to his mouth. “I’ll wear my wedding band all the time so groupies will know I’m taken.”
“Groupies are relentless. They won’t care. Maybe we should tattoo ‘Mr. Vanessa Hayes’ on your forehead.”
“Wouldn’t work. Chicks dig tats.”
Nessa laughed. “They even love tacky hoochie tats.”
“You know it.” He trailed two fingertips along her jaw. “So that yes means you’ll marry me next week, not someday, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll marry you next week. Call your asshole lawyer and have him draft a prenup.” A protest burned in his eyes as he opened his mouth and she settled her fingers over his lips. “No prenup is a deal breaker.”
He bit her finger and she yanked her hand away from him. “Since you’re calling the shots with my money, do you have specific directives for the prenup?”
“I don’t want a monetary settlement, that’s the point of the prenup.”
“All this talk of a prenup is killing my mood.”
“Liar. I can feel your hard-on against my thighs.” She shifted in such a way that his erection slid through her wet lips. “Stop bitching about me not wanting your money and make me come. That’s a gazillion times better than any money you could give me.”
After kissing her he slid his mouth across her cheek as he shifted her to receive his cock. With his mouth pressed to her ear, Nessa gasped as he entered her and she arched beneath him.
Against her ear, he whispered, “I’ll give you the prenup, but that doesn’t mean you can stop me from taking care of you.”
“Oh, you take care of me the way I prefer best.” She squeezed her channel around his thrusting length and he groaned in response. “With your dick inside me.”
His hand tangled in her hair, immobilizing her against the mattress as his other hand cupped her ass, tilting her pelvis to take all of him. He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, and bit, the sting increasing her pleasure. Whimpering beneath him, she mirrored his hold and threaded her fingers in his hair and gripped his ass, loving the feel of his muscles flexing beneath her palm.
Against her ear his breathy tone tickled her flesh, sending a parade of gooseflesh along her skin. “Three months ago I set up a ten-million dollar trust fund in your name with one hundred thousand dollar deposits into it each month.”
Using her hold on his hair, Nessa yanked his head up. Her nails dug into his ass, halting his thrusts into her. Three months ago, they hadn’t been together.
His blue eyes held hers. Daring her to protest. “Make all the prenup demands you want, I will take care of your future regardless of what you want.”
“I don’t want your fucking money.”
“I know. But it’s the one way I can guarantee you’re taken care of. Let me do this because it gives me peace of mind.”
“I won’t touch a dime of it.” Furious he’d gone behind her back, she wanted to push him away, but her flesh was weak and she wanted him to finish getting her off.
As if he read her mind, he went back to thrusting into her, long, deep drives that pressed his pelvic bone against her clit. “You won’t need to as long as I’m alive.”
Nessa closed her eyes at his words, understanding he fretted about her future if something happened to him. This was his version of a life insurance policy. How could she argue against that?
“Don’t be mad at me, let me love you in my way.” As an answer she squeezed her passage around his cock and his breath hitched.
She knew he liked it when she executed that move, and so did she because his length felt more pronounced inside her when she clenched about him. Nessa released her muscles and two strokes later tensed around him again.
“Christ. Love it when you do that.”
“I know.”
His fingers in her hair tightened and he lifted his torso off her chest, holding her gaze as he fucked her harder, and their connection grew noisier, as their breathing escalated.
“I love you, silver spoon.” Nessa went up in flames as her climax blew through her.
His mouth connected with hers, his hips slapping fast against her, his dick urging her toward a stronger meltdown. This one promised to be nuclear in its intensity.
Right before they both came, he whispered against her mouth, “I love you, my Bama girl.”
Sugar Ink Serenade
(HOT WIRED #4)
Gracen Miller
ONE
THE WATER IS TAINTED.
Derr shook his head when Sam giggled at something Fang said. No way Fang was that funny. He was never that funny. Jase dragged Fallon onto his lap and she grinned like the earth rotated around him.
Fuck not drinking the water. Derr decided the air was polluted too.
It’s the only explanation.
The government could’ve contaminated the atmosphere like people claimed they did with chemtrails. Yeah, that was it and the project would have some stupid name like The Cupid Project or just Cupid.
Derringer “Derr” Ramos eyed Sam cuddled up next to Fang and Fallon with her head resting on Jase’s shoulder. Yep, he was onto something.
Sitting a little straighter, he watched them with new insight. The government conspiracy was brilliant, really, but could they have picked anything more boring than studying the effects of a pheromone hallucinogenic released into the atmosphere. A big ass cover-up was involved too because no one in their right mind would volunteer for this particular study. They probably dosed the would-be whistleblower, silencing them with love.
Derr snorted, amused by his fanciful thoughts. Maybe he should write a book about Cupid. It’d bomb, of course, because who would read that bullshit?
Sure, he knew it was coincidental that all of his bandmates had experienced sudden and quick plunges into relationships one right after another. Didn’t stop his wild suspicions or his reasoning that they were good for only an enticing book. Okay, maybe at best it was good enough for a TV drama on an offbeat network that lasted half a season before disappointing the ten repeat viewers by being canceled. It definitely wouldn’t be a best seller or a hit. Either way, he wasn’t one of those conspiracy nut jobs. Facing the music hurt. His band family wanted something different out of life than Derr.
Grabbing the remote control, he flipped through channels. Finding a basketball game on, he settled into cheering on the underdog. He didn’t have a favorite team, but favorite players. The perfect team would be the one all his faves played on. He only saw that once every four years when they came together for the US Olympics team.
Keys plopped down on the sofa beside him and propped his big ass, land yacht-sized feet on the coffee table. “Who’s playing?”
“You wouldn’t know them if I told you.”
A twisted grin hit his buddy’s lips. “Trying to engage you.”
“I’d rather talk about something you know than walk you through a sport you know nothing about.”
“Harsh, man, harsh.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
Sam giggled again and Derr turned up the volume on the TV.
“Are Nessa and I that bad?”
He glanced at Keys who stared in the direction of their friends. “Nessa’s usually verbally punching you in the balls and making me laugh. Sam makes my balls clench up into my body.”
Deadpan, the lead guitarist for Hot Wired said, “I like the way Nessa plays with my balls.”
Biting back a smile, he shot back, “Masochist.”
A wide grin punched Keys in the face. “Nessa makes it hurt so good.”
Derr groaned. “Jase is rubbing off on you.”
Keys laughed. “Bound to happen.”
That prompted a good-natured chuckle from Derr, both cognizant of the good-naturedness of the insults. He’d known these guys for a decade and during that time they’d done everything together. Spent days ignoring one another’s body odor and annoying habits. Not much about this group irritated him anymore.
“I have a theory the government contaminated the water and air with something making everyone fall in love.”
Keys made a face as if he seriously considered his statement. “This theory of yours, it’s affecting everyone in the world and not just the band, right?”
He hadn’t thought about the world being affected, but... “Can’t control air currents.”
“Guess the politicians got smart and decided the ‘make love, not war’ motto was more sensible than dropping missiles on one another.”
“Good point, nuking each other is outdated.” They sat in easy silence a moment with only the whispers of their family behind them and the squeak of sneakers coming from the television. Derr’s frazzled emotions pushed him to do something other than sitting around and cringing at the love polluting his circulated air. With no desire to become the next victim, he asked Keys, “Want to go out? Hit a club? See Vegas from the street instead of a window for a change?”
“We wouldn’t make it twenty feet before we were mobbed by fans or the press.”
“I bought washout color hair gel.”
“Ooo... magnificent disguise.” For his sarcasm, Derr punched Keys on the shoulder and his buddy chuckled. “What?” Keys held his hands up in surrender. “It’s true. Even with our hair colored pink—”
“I have blue and white.”
“—together we’d stand out like a neon sign.” He opened and closed his fists indicating something flashed. “Hot Wired guys to mob! Mob the unprotected Hot Wired guys! Yeah,” Keys shook his head. “No thanks. I like my clothes intact.”
“Unless you’re with Nessa.”
Keys shot a finger gun at him. “Now you’re getting it.”
Happy for his band family, something about all three of their sudden romances left him uneasy. Just because it wasn’t a government conspiracy, didn’t mean they each hadn’t fallen one right after another like dominoes.
It could be a virus.
Taking shallow breaths around the happy couples might be his best option. The sudden hookups his Hot Wired bandmates endured baffled him and he had no desire to be the fourth and final victim to succumb to love.
He winced at the word love.
He didn’t have anything against the concept but believing in the romantic bullshit of living ‘happily ever after’ was a tough notion to swallow. In his experience, happy ever after came with a lot of yelling and crying. Despite his mom swearing his dad was ‘the one’, her marriage to his dad—and later his two step-dads who also were ‘the one’—hadn’t seemed all that happy... and none of them had been ‘happy ever after’ either. She was currently on her fourth marriage and he, of course, was ‘the one’ also. He thought his mom was in love with the idea of being in love.
Relationships are toxic.
Or maybe it was just marriage in general. Keys’ parents were the only real-life people he knew that could stake claim to happily married. They also never worried about how the bills got paid, and debt had been a huge problem for his family until Derr’s success.
Keys was the third to fall in love and had tied the knot with his sassy Southern gal in less than a week of his proposal. Derr liked Keys’ girl, Nessa, and thought she and his pal made a great couple, but marriage didn’t have to be a part of their romance. They’d only been dating a few months when they made their relationship a permanent thing. The rush confused Derr.
Marriage is a noose.
Thanks to being rich and famous, along with his mother’s unsuccessful romances, one could call him jaded. He loved women, loved loving them for one-night stands too, but anything permanent or legal came with distrust. The only women he seemed to deal with were money-hungry or name-dropping bitches. Or his mom who fell in love with the first smile. His sisters were as discerning as he was. Patti, his eldest sister shacked up with the father of her boys, but she refused to marry him.
Jase lived with his girlfriend and daughter, and Derr hadn’t heard either of them mention tying the knot. But Fang and Sam had gotten hitched a few months back and now Keys willingly anchored himself to the ball and chain.
He was happy for his family and expected their romances to last—going into it thinking it could end sabotaged any relationship—but he preferred to steer clear of the marriage mart. No point in testing his luck there. Thanks, but no thanks.
A high-pitched squeal-giggle from Fallon startled him from his thoughts. Shaking his head, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how Jase acquired such a sweet woman. Fallon was sweet and innocent, and Jase was the ultimate bad boy.
Guess opposites do attract.
“Who you pulling for tonight, Derr?” Fang asked from behind.
“The Celtics. Kyrie is on fire tonight.”
“He’s shining since he left Lebron,” Fang agreed.
“Why didn’t you ask me who I was pulling for?” Keys twisted his torso to peer up at Fang.
Hot Wired’s singer snorted. “Do you know Kyrie’s last name?”
“No,” Keys admitted.
“That’s why he didn’t ask you.” Derr kept his gaze glued to the screen as Kyrie ran down the court for a two-point layup. Damn, he envied that man’s athleticism. “I don’t want to sit around all night. We’re in Vegas for fuck’s sake.” Standing, he rolled his shoulders, stretching out the muscles. “I’m going to take the chance and hit the town.”
“Sam and I are catching a meal in the hotel restaurant if you want to join us,” Fang offered.
He couldn’t explain his unsettled, trapped feeling, but he needed to get away from his band family. “Nah, I’m going to walk the strip.”
“Take Tex with you.”
No fucking way was he going to take Fang’s bodyguard with him. He liked the man and all, but the last thing he wanted was someone dogging his footsteps. That would make him stand out more than his recognizable face.
“Pookie...” Sam called for Fang from the back of the penthouse.
Derr grinned at Fang.
“I’m gonna kill her,” his friend bitched. “She knows I hate that goddamn nickname.”
Didn’t stop him from answering when she called him pookie. “And yet you’re running straight to her when she calls.”
Fang flipped him off as he sauntered in Sam’s direction. Pussy-whipped. The entire band let pussy rule their world.
Worse things could rule the world.
As Nessa would say, the proof was in the pudding when you considered the current commander in chief.
