Wicked Beat
Page 62Faster.
Faster.
Oh. She moved away abruptly, and his entire body shuddered with unfulfilled desire. He heard her release the zipper of her jeans behind him and the rustle of fabric as she removed the rest of her clothes. He turned his head when she appeared beside him and stumbled over a beat. She ducked under his arm and climbed over one leg to stand before him, beautiful and naked.
He slowed his tempo again and stared into her eyes, wondering what she’d do next. Knowing no matter what it was, he would like it. Her fingers slid into his hair, and she tugged him to her breast. He latched on with his mouth and sucked in time with the beat.
“That’s it,” she whispered. She released his hair and lowered her hands, her fingertips resting against the head of his cock. When she tapped her fingers against his sensitive flesh, his belly tightened with excitement.
“Mmm.” He sucked harder on her nipple.
He released her nipple and looked at her, his eyelids heavy, his breathing ragged. She bent and grabbed his shaft in both hands. Her thumbs bumped over the rim repeatedly, still keeping time with his beat.
“I want you inside me, Eric Sticks.”
“What are you waiting for?” he murmured.
“Can you keep your balance?”
He grinned. “Only one way to find out.”
He paused in his drumming while she climbed onto his lap, facing him. She wrapped both arms around his neck and kissed him hungrily. He shifted his, drumsticks to one hand and then grabbed his c**k to seek her slick heat. When he found her, she sank down, taking him deep. He wobbled on the little stool, then tightened the muscles of his thighs, back, and stomach to maintain balance. Good thing he was in great shape from all that drumming, or he wouldn’t have been able to hold his position. He shifted forward on his stool a few inches, and she sank deeper.
His jeans cut into his flesh, but somehow, that discomfort made him crave the pleasure offered by her body all the more.
Rebekah deepened her kiss, her fingers digging into his scalp. Feet on the floor, she began to rise and fall over him.
His toe found his bass drum pedal, and he matched her rhythm with a low, steady beat. Instead of hammering out a beat with his arms, he wrapped them around her, drumsticks caught in his fist against her back.
She drew away, staring into his eyes while she made love to him. He couldn’t look away. Even as he increased their tempo by speeding up the bass drum beat and his release approached, he couldn’t tear his gaze from the love shining from her baby blue eyes.
How had he lived a single day without her? What would he do if he ever lost her? Overcome by emotions, he squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on the pleasure building inside.
“Oh,” she gasped and arched backward as her body shuddered with release.
He held onto her for dear life, partly because he didn’t want to fall off the stool, and partly because he let himself follow her in bliss. As his fluids pumped into her, he rubbed his open mouth against her collarbone, lost in ecstasy. She went limp against him, and he stiffened his leg just in time to stop them from tumbling to the floor. A cymbal crashed as the drum kit slid forward and hit a boom.
“Wow,” she breathed. “That was hot.”
He made some incoherent sound of agreement.
“One fantasy down. Five million to go.”
He chuckled. “Only five million?”
“Can’t I take a nap first?” he whispered drowsily.
“If you need to. I can work on it myself for a while.”
He shook his head. “I want to help. Just give me an hour or two to catch my breath, woman.”
She tried to climb off his lap, but he held her in place. She relented and snuggled against him again. It was much easier to maintain his balance when she held still, and he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.
“Eric?” she said after a long moment.
“Yeah.”
“I have to get an MRI the first week of December to… see if I’m still healthy. Will you come with me? Isaa—um, that other guy used to go with me. I don’t like to go by myself. Waiting for the results is really…” she sniffed, “…hard.”
Eric held his breath and nodded. He bit his bottom lip to stop its trembling, his heart clogging his throat. His hand moved to the back of her head to press her closer, so she wouldn’t see the tears blurring his vision. He wanted to be there for her, but all he could think when confronted by her mortality was no. No! Rebekah didn’t really need an MRI. Her body wouldn’t betray her again. It couldn’t. He wouldn’t let it. Wouldn’t even accept the possibility that she could get sick again. She could not leave him. He would not lose her before she turned a hundred and twenty-three. Or ever. He needed her. Needed her. Not just now. Always. She couldn’t go. She just couldn’t.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m not strong enough to face this alone.”
And he wasn’t strong enough to face it at all. “Let’s go work on the car.”
Chapter 22
“Anybody home?” she called into the foyer.
Her mouth fell open when Dave wheeled himself through the dining room door. “Hey, little sis!”
“Dave!” she released Eric’s hand and squeezed Dave’s neck excitedly as she hugged him. “You look great!” She planted a big wet kiss on his temple. “How’s your recovery going?”
“I’ve got about seventy-five percent usage in my left arm. Ninety percent in the right.” He wriggled his fingers and made a fist. “They still say I’m not going to walk again.”
“I say they’re full of shit,” Eric said with a grin.
Dave grinned back. “Sticks? When Rebekah said she was bringing a guy home, I was sure it would be Mills.”
“I managed to snag the best one,” Rebekah said. She sauntered over to Eric and grabbed him around the neck to draw him to her waiting lips.
Someone cleared her throat in the dining room. “Not only do you bring riffraff into my home,” Mom said, “but you engage in inappropriate behavior with it right before my eyes.”