Obsession (Ink & Iron #1) (5 page)

She shrugged. “Family will do that every time.”

“Except yours. Your family is a rare thing, Janie—which never surprised me.
You’re
a rare thing.”

She was. Lovely and sweet and he’d been a total dick to have ever done anything to jeopardize what they had. He’d be damned if he wouldn’t make it up to her now.

“I got lucky. I know most people don’t have even one person in their family they get along with, never mind all of them. But you have your brother. How is he?”

“Chase? He’s happy as hell. He’s playing his guitar, we’re traveling the world, women throw themselves at his feet—not that that’s anything new. We just got back from a long tour, and we’re almost done laying down a new album. He moved into this great house in Venice on the canals last month. He can walk right down to the beach with his surfboard—he’s in heaven.”

“And Jaden?” she asked.

“Jaden is Jaden.” He laughed. “Still giving me shit every chance he gets. Still one of the best drummers out there. I’m lucky he’s hung in there through…everything, you know? Chase is my brother so he’s kind of stuck with me, but Jaden didn’t have to stay.”

“He’s a good guy. I always liked him.”

“Yeah, he is. Ryan’s a good guy too, even if he keeps to himself more than the rest of us.”

She nodded, quiet for a moment, staring into her bowl once more. It was difficult for her to think about Ink & Iron’s bass player, he knew—the one who had replaced Sonny when he was kicked out of the band for his drug abuse.

“I know it’s rough, Janie,” he said quietly, rubbing a hand over her shoulder, twisting his fingers in her hair.

“It’s just…any reminder…”

“Yeah. It’s hard for me too.”

“Is it?” she asked, the tears glimmering in her eyes. “The band survived your addiction, Cole. Maybe if you’d let Sonny stay…” She shook her head when he winced. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know…”

“But you do know, baby. You understood before I did. You had to walk away from me, and I
got
it, even though I never wanted you to leave. When I got clean… We had to let him go. If you take a minute to think about it, I know you can understand that we had no choice with Sonny. He couldn’t make it through a set. Couldn’t play. He was a wreck. And it was wrecking the rest of us. He was too much of a liability. He was always drinking, always had drugs on him. He surrounded himself with those people—it was sex and drugs and rock ’n’ roll, until all that was left was the drugs. I had to make sure I didn’t allow that kind of temptation in my face. I couldn’t let his disease take me back down that path.”

She bit her lip. “I guess I do understand. But my mind keeps trying to come up with different scenarios, as if that’s going to change anything. Bring him back to life. It’s stupid, I know.”

He stroked her hair from her cheek, wiping a stray tear away. “It’s not stupid,” he said, keeping his tone low. “It isn’t anything the rest of us haven’t thought ourselves, believe me. It’s what we do when we lose someone. I spend a lot of time trying to imagine how it might have gone differently. A lot of damn time, Janie.”

He looked into her eyes. He wasn’t just talking about losing Sonny anymore.

“Cole?” She took his hand and held it to her chest, her skin warming him. “Is this…how you felt after I left you? I was so angry and disappointed. And yet…a small part of me sort of hoped your pills and your alcohol kept you numb enough that you didn’t hurt too much. Did you hurt? Did you notice?”

Her words broke his heart. “Ah, baby. I fucking hurt—I’ll never be able to tell you how much. That’s all I really remember about that time, and for a long time after. It wasn’t until I got sober a year later that I really faced my pain, though. What happened with you. Shit about my dad. About my mom. The way she left us when we were kids. The fact that she was an alcoholic, and how that did a lot to fuel my own substance abuse issues.”

His chest still ached a little when he thought about her. He didn’t want to think about his mother. Not right now.

“Change of subject?”

Her gaze softened, and he knew she understood. He’d never really told her much about his mother, and she’d simply accepted that he couldn’t talk about it. Maybe someday. But right now, he needed to feel her.

“Put your noodles down and come over here, woman.”

Chapter Five

She smiled as she put the tray on the nightstand, then she sat in his lap, her gorgeous, naked body curled against him.

“Janie.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re naked.”

“So are you.”

“And you feel good. And you smell like sex and noodles.”

She laughed. “And that’s sexy?”

“When it comes to you, it’s all kinds of sexy. Anything and everything is sexy. I’m going to have to do some very dirty things to you. Say yes.”

“Yes. Please, Cole.”

“Oh, I do like you, baby girl.”

“I love it when you call me that. Makes me want to purr.”

He pulled her in tight, and he felt her struggle for a moment, a natural reaction to the tight grip he had on her, crushing her to his chest. Then she relaxed, let it all go and melted into him.

“Good girl.” He leaned in and nibbled on her ear, then bit down hard on the lobe.

She gasped. He did it again and watched her hands clench, but she held still.

“Baby? Do you remember how much more it hurts to be spanked in the bath with your skin all wet and slippery?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“Is that a yes, please?”

“Yes, please.”

He grinned and threw her over his shoulder, stood with her in his arms. “Okay, then.”

“Cole!”

“My name is not a safe word, baby. Are you safe-wording?”

“No. Please. I mean yes, please. I mean…please take me into the bath and spank me.”

“Ah, that’s my girl.”

He set her on her feet in the old claw-foot tub and ran the water—it spilled into the tub, swirling around her feet.

“Aren’t you getting in with me?” she asked.

“I will. I just need to watch you for a minute. You look like a Botticelli painting, like
The Birth of Venus,
standing in her shell, with your blond hair everywhere, draped over your breasts.” He reached out and stroked her hair, his fingers catching the long strands and rubbing it across her nipple.

She closed her eyes. “Mmm.”

When he pinched hard, she yelped.

“Cole!”

Her eyes fluttered open. He was grinning at her, a little crooked, all pure sex.

“That goatee makes you look like the devil,” she told him, loving the flirting. No one could flirt like Cole Kennrick. “I like it.”

He chuckled. “You would, dirty girl. Move aside, I’m coming in. Then we’ll see how dirty you really are.”

He kissed her mouth before sliding down into the water and taking her with him.

“On your knees,” he instructed. “Lean your arms over my shoulder on the edge of the tub. Good girl.”

Oh, it made her shiver, hearing those words as she knelt for him, her breasts pressed into his shoulder.

He grabbed her big sea sponge and squeezed it, letting the hot water run over her back, plastering her long hair to her body. It felt so good—the water, being so close to him, the wicked anticipation of what was to come.

He moved the sponge over her buttocks, dipped down under the water to run it between her thighs, making her moan. She pressed her cheek to his, and he turned to nibble on her earlobe, kissing, sucking, biting. He moved the sponge back and forth over her aching slit, her swollen clitoris.

“Oh, yeah. You’re ready for me again, aren’t you, baby? And I need to fuck you again, to slide my cock inside your hot little body. Like this.”

He dropped the sponge and pressed two fingers inside her. She gasped as desire pierced her body.

“Oh…yes…”

He slid his fingers from her. “But first I promised you a spanking, didn’t I? Come here, baby. Press close to me.”

He helped her shift her knees so that all her weight rested against him. He brought the sponge up to squeeze the warm water over her, did it again, warming and wetting her skin. She heard the sponge drop back into the water a split second before the first spank.

“Oh!”

It stung just a little. It felt amazing.

“Good, baby?”

“Yes. So good.”

He smacked her ass again, the water making it sting like mad.

When she squirmed, he wrapped his other arm around her, holding her still. “Good?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me,” he demanded, smacking her again, harder this time.

“Ah…it’s like…the pain is intense, but it stays right on the surface.”

“Can you take more?”

“Oh, yes…”

He ran his hand between her thighs, pressing against her clit, then slipping between her pussy lips. She arched her hips, but he wouldn’t put his teasing fingers inside her. Instead, he spanked her again, then over and over, harder and harder, a quick volley she couldn’t escape with his arm holding her so damn tight she could barely breathe. But she loved it—every sensation. The pain and the pleasure. His strength commanding her. Dominating her.

Soon the pain became too intense, and as if he could read her mind—or maybe he was reading her body—he stopped and plunged his fingers inside her.

“Ah! Yes, yes…”

“Good girl. My baby,” he murmured as he thrust into her, curving his fingers to catch her g-spot.

Pleasure suffused her, everything coming together in her head: his surging fingers, the warm, silky water, her ass still stinging like crazy, knowing it was
him
.

“Move with me now, Janie,” he told her.

Freed by his permission, she ground her hips into his hand, beginning to pant as another climax bore down on her like a wall of pleasure. And as she came in his arms he spanked her again, just enough to make sensation spiral even higher.

“Ah, God, Cole!”

When it was over he pulled her down into the water with him, cradled her head on his chest, kissing her cheek, pulling her hand to his mouth to kiss her fingers.

She felt wrung out, but in the most lovely way. Her body, her mind, were buzzing.

When was the last time she’d felt this sense of willingness? Of abandon? Of connection? Never with anyone but him. She only hoped this sense of coming home wasn’t some universal joke that would come crashing down around her.

Don’t worry. Not now.

No, now she would enjoy it. See where things went. Revel in being held by the man she had never stopped loving.

For two weeks they’d spent every spare moment together. Janie went to work each day with a smile on her face, and came home to Cole. Sometimes he’d be waiting for her at her place, and they’d eat dinner in, then watch a movie snuggled up together on her velvet sofa—on the nights when they managed to wait to get their hands on each other. Some days she’d head over to his house, which she thought was beautiful and so much
him
, with its open floor plan and spare furnishings made comfortable with plush pillows, soft throw blankets and candles everywhere, and his collection of framed vintage rock posters on nearly every wall.

In between sessions in the studio doing the final mixing on Ink & Iron’s new album, he took her for long motorcycle rides up the coast on one of his Harleys or his beautiful vintage Indian bike, a picnic packed in the saddlebags. They went hiking, spent a day at the Getty Museum exploring an exhibit on black-and-white photography, went to the art house movie theater and made out in the back row like teenagers. One afternoon Cole invited the band and their roadies over for a poolside barbeque, and she realized how much she missed the camaraderie of a band, as well as Chase and Jaden. She had a chance to sit down and talk with Ryan, and she realized she hadn’t ever gotten close with him because she’d never quite moved past the fact that he’d replaced Sonny in the band. But the tall blond bass player was laid-back and easy to talk to, and they were friends by the end of the night. The guys all acted as if seven years hadn’t passed since they’d seen her, accepting her back with open arms and no questions asked, and it was good to be “one of the boys” again.

She talked to Celine as often as she could—usually on her way to or from work—and her friend reminded her to enjoy herself, not to look too far into the future or too far into the past, but to protect her heart. There were times when Janie’s mind would wander and she would start to worry, but things with Cole were too good for her to dwell on what could happen. She’d lived through what could happen. She simply wanted to be with him.

The sex was amazing. Cole was as sensual and commanding a lover as he’d ever been, and there was an edge of tenderness sometimes that absolutely stunned her. They seemed to be falling into a new groove, and things were better than they’d ever been.

She let herself into Cole’s place in the Hollywood Hills—he’d given her a key the first time she came over. She shut the door behind her and that’s when she saw it: the candles in votive glasses creating a winding path with a note by the door that said “Follow me”.

Smiling, she dropped her purse on the floor and slowly made her way over the pale travertine floors, through the living room and down the hallway, through the airy master bedroom suite, which was done in neutral shades and accented in dark turquoise.

Finally following the candle pathway into the master bath, she found Cole there. He had all the fixtures going at once in the enormous shower stall tiled in pale slate—the two rain showerheads, the two hand sprayers, the body jets. The room was half-obscured by steam, but that didn’t prevent her from seeing every gorgeous inch of his well-muscled body as he leaned against the sink, dressed in nothing but his sexy tattoos and a turquoise towel around his hips.

He grinned, his dark goatee framing his lush mouth. God, she needed to kiss him.

“Hi, baby girl. Long day at work?”

“Hi, Cole. And yes. But I think my day is about to improve.”

The familiar buzz was beginning in her body, starting in her limbs and working its way inward, toward more sensitive places. She shivered when he approached her and silently began to undress her, his hands smoothing over her skin as he pulled each piece of clothing off.

When she stood naked before him he grinned at her. “Even tired and sweaty from work, you are so goddamn beautiful I can hardly believe it.”

“Don’t be silly,” she chided, but she was smiling.

“It’s true, Janie girl. The most beautiful girl ever born.” He moved in and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids, making her sigh with pleasure. Making her melt all over in the way only Cole had ever made her do. “Come on. Let’s get you clean so I can do unspeakably dirty things to you.”

“Yes, please,” she said, batting her lashes at him.

“Beautiful
and
accommodating.”

She laughed, then the laughter died in her throat as he dropped his towel. She could never get over how flawless his body was, every taut line of muscle and sinew perfectly formed. His tattoos only accented his purely male beauty. And his cock was a solid shaft of gorgeous flesh between his strong thighs.

“Cole?”

“Hmm?” He’d taken her hand and was drawing her into the shower stall.

“I need to do some dirty things to you too. I really do.”

“Are you asking permission?”

“I…feel as if I need to. When we’re…when sex is involved, the roles simply slide into place, and I slip into the headspace—I’m already slipping. So…yes. I’m asking.”

It was only with him that she felt this sense of submission. She’d played at kink with another man or two over the years, but only with Cole did she feel any real power exchange.

“Good girl,” he said, leaning in to kiss her lips, and she felt herself sinking into that lovely submissive space where everything went a bit cloudy.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her in that iron-hard grip that crushed her breasts to his chest and squeezed some of the breath from her, making her feel a sense of safety in a way she couldn’t explain even to herself. He pulled them both into the shower.

The falling water was a lovely, liquid heat on her skin, in her hair, running over her face—both their faces—as he kissed her. His tongue slipped in and met hers, hot and sweet and demanding. When he let her go a few moments later, her sex was already clenching.

“I’m going to wash you, baby. Stand still for me.”

Yes, for him. Anything.

He shampooed her hair first, his strong fingers working on her scalp, then more gently as he pulled conditioner through the long strands. He rinsed her hair before he lathered a sponge with the earthy-scented soap he used. She loved to wash in his soap, to be bathed in his scent, to smell it on her skin after she bathed. Even better when he washed her himself, as he did now.

He slid the sponge over her body, gently scrubbing her arms, her stomach, lingering over her breasts, making her nipples pull tight. Then he moved over her back, lifting her hair out of the way by wrapping it tightly around his fist, and she felt herself slipping into a deeper level of subspace. Kneeling in front of her, he washed her legs in long, slow, sensual movements, sliding up her calves, then her thighs, then finally using his hand, a gentle pressure on her thighs to spread them apart.

He slipped the sponge over her needy sex, and it grew needier by the moment. He looked up at her, his blue gaze on hers, an intensity there she saw only during sex, or when he sang. She didn’t know how to describe it—gleaming, fierce passion almost blazing from his eyes, yet controlled. Whatever it was, it made her go soft and weak all over. It made what he was doing between her thighs even more intense.

Her clit was already pulsing, and she found it harder and harder to hold still, seeing how beautifully hard his cock was, the golden skin darker at the head. She licked her lips, wanting to taste him, to hold him in her hands.
Needing
to. But that would happen only when he let it.

The sponge was still sliding up and down, over her clit, her pussy lips, pleasure skittering over her skin along with the falling water. Cole was watching her, his gaze on her face, which made everything hotter…so much hotter.

“Mmm, have an idea, Janie girl.”

He stood and she felt momentarily bereft of the lovely sponge, but she knew whatever he had in mind would be good.

He adjusted the vertical row of body sprayers—both the angle and the spray intensity—until the water came out in a hard, pulsing beat, then he sat on the bench built into one end of the shower.