Rock Revenge (Rock Revenge Trilogy 1)

She turned in his arms. She should tell him her news. Their news. They’d promised to stop with the secrets, but she didn’t want to let this feeling go.

Not now.

Not when he’d been so off-balance earlier.

Margo stood on her toes and draped her arms over his shoulders so she could play with his freshly washed hair. “What if I want to suck you off first?”

Four

Jesus fuck, she was going to kill him tonight.

The show had revved him up, pushing the Ian Kagan business to the back of his mind for a little while. As usual, anything to do with Margo could reroute the blood supply from his big head to his not so little one in a flash.

Even a shower hadn’t slowed him down. In fact, soaping up had only gotten him more excited.

He allowed the heat they’d stirred up onstage to push away thoughts of Ian as he urged her out the back door and down the alley to the busy street. There was no way they were going to find a car now. Nor get one to them in the crush of people.

Flashbacks to their first tour when they’d had to sneak away to find time together crowded in on the lust burning a hole through his chest. He clasped her hand and dragged her down the uneven streets in the loud and active city of London. She laughed and ran after him. The sultry sound rose above the street noise, urging him to find a way to get her under him even faster.

Or on her knees.

Fuck, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold out if she did that right now.

They bypassed pubs and clubs until finally, he glimpsed a sign for the Tube. He dug out his phone and cursed. Between the multiple encores and his shower, it was well after midnight.

“I’ll never understand why they stop running transportation this early.”

Margo bumped into him. She curled her fingers into the back of his belt and rubbed against him like she was in heat, for fuck’s sake. He growled and looked around for a cab, but no one seemed to have their stupid light on.

Her fingers inched under his shirt, scraping down his spine. He glanced down at her, groaning when her teeth sawed her lower lip. She started walking backward, dragging him toward a bakery that was decidedly not open.

“What are you…”

She tucked her other hand into the front of his pants. The quick bite of her nails made his dick strain up for her. “Margo.”

The deeper into the shadows they went, the more his cock throbbed. She crouched in front of him, hauling him in closer until he had no choice but to brace his hand against the brick wall behind her.

He looked around to make sure there was no one around. Just one camera phone could end them and bring the hellfire of Lila and her PR team down on them like a fucking hammer. The clink of his buckle against his zipper made him hiss and then his head dropped back as his wife drew the head of his cock between her warm, perfect lips.

“Fuck.”

She knew just how to touch him. She fisted his length, following it up with strong pulls from her delectable mouth. Her lips were already bruised from their manic kissing all night and the abuse of her own teeth. Again and again, she swallowed him down, her nails digging into his belly as she pushed his shirt up and out of the way.

The finish was coming way too fast. She was much too good at pushing every button in his damn body. Emotionally, physically, and mentally—she knew how to play him like the violin that was an extension of her.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and tried to draw her off him, to make it last, but she had other plans.

She took him deeper, stroked him until there was no choice but coming down her sweet, elegant throat. She took every drop, staring up at him with those huge, fathomless brown eyes that seemed black in the darkness of the alleyway.

The scent of yeasty bread and the ever-present rain filled his brain as he came back to his body. She stood up, crowding into his chest with her hands under his shirt. She kissed his neck as she swayed against him. “Take me back to our room, husband.”

“Fuck, baby. Are you trying to kill me?”

Her ruined lips stretched into a smug smile. “Yes.”

“Mission accomplished.” He shoved his depleted dick back into his pants and zipped up. He need a cab.

Now.