“I thought I recognized him,” I say, his familiar face snicking into place. “Jed played for The Holler Boys, didn’t he?”
Nancy turns to me, a surprised smile tugging the corners of her lips. “He did. But almost no one places him. Especially people your age.”
“My mom was a huge classic rock fan. I used to spend hours going through her records, studying the covers while the music played.” I bob a shoulder. “We didn’t have a television most of the time.”
“Homeschooled?” Nancy asks.
I wrinkle my nose. “Something like that.”
She nods knowingly. “Ah, got ya. I had something like that, too. My dad lived in the U.S., but my brothers and I grew up with my mom in Mexico. Months when dad took a break from his other family and came down, we had shoes and clothes that fit and a working television. Months when we were out of sight, out of mind, not so much.”
I wince sympathetically. “Sorry about that.”
Nancy smiles and squeezes my arm. “No worries. I turned out okay. Looks like you did, too. And Jed was right, by the way, you two have great energy. You’re going to love it here.” She backs toward the glass door leading out onto the patio and the lawn beyond. “Make yourself at home and ring me at our place if you have any questions or concerns. Number’s on the whiteboard.” She motions across the backyard toward the pool. “Jed and I live back behind the pool house. Little cottage at the edge of the forest. You can’t see us from here—and we can’t see you—but we’re there whenever you need us.” She winks. “Don’t be shy. We’re both crazy in our way, but we don’t bite, and we love having company.”
“Thanks so much,” Zack says, lifting a hand to Nancy as she steps out the door and starts across the grass. She’s nearly to the pool when Jed appears from around the left side of the house and calls her name. She stops, waiting for him to catch up before they circle around the pool house, walking hand in hand.
“I wonder how long they’ve been together?” Zack asks.
I turn to him, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smile. “I’m sure Jed would tell you.”
Zack grins. “I like him. I usually record alone, but I might ask him to run the booth for a few things. See how it goes.”
“Might be nice to have company,” I agree. “I’d do it for you, but I can’t be trusted with computers or machines.” He makes a strange face, and I cock my head. “What?”
“Nothing, I just… I don’t usually share songs with friends until after the album’s done. It’s a superstitious thing.”
“Oh.” I wave away my suggestion. “Of course. Whatever works. I don’t want to interrupt the genius.”
“I don’t know about genius, but I’m pretty pleased with what I’ve come up with so far.” He puts his arm around my waist and pulls me close, making my nerve endings sing. “I hope you like them. When you hear them.”
“I have no doubt I will,” I murmur, linking my arms behind his neck. “I like everything about you so far, Mr. Halloran. Though I confess, I like you a tiny bit better when you have fewer clothes on.”
His gaze darkens. “Really? Like…no shoes?”
“No shoes is a good start.” I bite my bottom lip as he backs toward the living room, drawing me with him. “Though sadly, we might have to slow down on the constant sexy times if we’re serious about the baby-making.”
“Why’s that?” His hands slip up the back of my tube top, warm on my cool skin.
“Sperm count. Anything more than once a day is going to lower it and decrease our chances.”
He arches a brow. “Really?”
I nod, breath catching as he sits down on the blue velvet couch and pulls me onto his lap, urging my knees to either side of his hips until I’m straddling him and there’s no ignoring the thick ridge beneath his jeans. “I’m not in my best conception window yet,” I whisper, unable to resist the urge to rock against him. “But I will be soon, so we really should…”
I trail off with a moan as he presses a kiss to my throat, where my pulse is already racing.
“We really should what?” he asks, his lips moving against my skin.
I rock against him again, loving the way he growls in response. “We should probably cut it out until tomorrow, since we already had shower time today, but…” I tangle my fingers in his hair. “But I really don’t want to wait.”
“You don’t have to wait.” He bunches my skirt in his hand, slowly drawing it up my thigh. “Just because I can’t come doesn’t mean you can’t.”
“But I—” My words end in a gasp as he tugs my top down with his other hand, sending my left breast spilling out into the warm air. Glancing toward the picture window on the other side of the room, I instinctively move to cover myself, but Zack captures my wrist in his hand.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, bending to kiss my throat, then my shoulder, making my nipple pull tight. “Nancy made it pretty clear they won’t be bothering us. Or watching.” He bends lower, capturing my aching tip in his mouth, making my head fall back as his tongue swirls in dizzying circles.
“But shouldn’t we find a bedroom?” I ask, pulse spiking as he draws my wrist behind me to the small of my back and holds it captive there.
He shakes his head, brushing his lips back and forth across my nipple as he moves, making me squirm in his lap. “No, we shouldn’t.” He catches my other hand, pulling it back to join the first, as he asks, “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” I whisper, arching closer to his mouth as he gathers both of my wrists into one big hand, ensuring I’m at his mercy. I watch him shift his attention to my other breast, my chest rising and falling faster as he slowly, deliberately drives me out of my mind. He licks and sucks and nips at my sensitive flesh until I’m whimpering and grinding against his cock through his jeans, desperate for relief.
“Please,” I beg, eyes squeezing shut as he drags his teeth over my nipple again.
“Please, what?”
“Let me come,” I say, breath harsh in my lungs.
“How do you want to come?” he asks. “My mouth or my fingers?”
“Neither.” I rock my hips against his erection, literally feeling like I might die if I don’t get him inside me in the next five seconds. “I want you. Now.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Please.” I force my eyes open, catching his determined gaze with my no doubt pained one as I beg, “Please take me upstairs and take off your pants.”
He shakes his head. “Last chance to decide, or I’m going to decide for you.”
I bite my lip, but I can’t seem to stop myself from whispering, “I want you to fuck me, Zack. Please, fuck me. Please.”
His eyes go dark, and for a second, I’m positive he’s going to throw me over his shoulder and make a run for the stairs. Instead, he releases my wrists and, with one swift and efficient movement, flips me onto my back on the couch and shoves my skirt up to my waist. A beat later, his hand is in my panties, his fingers driving inside me as the heel of his palm grinds against my clit.