Covered In Lace

chapter EIGHT

Lacey woke up in Boston entwined in Flynn's arms and legs. A smile crept across her face at the memories popping into her head from the previous night. How many times had they had sex, she thought. Too many times to count, and in so many different positions, she knew she'd be sore for days.

Flynn was better than all the fantasies she had created in her head about him. His wild side was blazing hot, more untamed than any man she had bedded. But it was his tenderness that had her unraveling in his arms, time and time again.

She moved her legs beneath the disheveled sheets and saw a circular red mark on her inner thigh. She touched it with her fingers and smiled, remembering the heat of Flynn's mouth sucking on her soft skin when he made it. He had left several marks on her body last night, branding her with his mouth; his touch.

Flynn began to stir behind her; his arms tightened their hold and his cock began to stretch. He snuggled closer and pressed a soft kiss on her bare shoulder.

“Morning,” he said.

“And I see you're already up and at 'em,” she said, and smiled.

“It's not every day I wake up pressed against a gorgeous blonde.”

“How many days does that happen?” she asked.

“I'm hopeful this will be the first of many,” he said.

He reached for another condom and rolled it on, then positioned himself behind her. He lifted her leg, draping it over his thigh, and pressed his fully aroused cock to her opening. His hands started on her breasts, then inched lower until his fingers found her wetness.

The slightest touch of his fingers between her legs and every cell in her body was awake. She reached behind her and grabbed his neck, pulling him close for a kiss. As soon as their tongues met, Flynn slid into her. Lacey wiggled against him, creating the tightest fit imaginable.

Being buried this deep made Flynn moan. His eyes closed. No woman had ever allowed him to take them so completely. His hand fanned low on her belly, the long middle finger stroking the hardened bud of her *oris. Her heated sheath stretched for him and he heard himself sigh into her mouth. Everything about Lacey made him feel alive. Nothing from his past compared to being with Lacey. It was the purest form of ecstasy he'd ever experienced.

He held her tightly to his chest, rocking her against him; a slow, easy rhythm that had both of them climbing the same peak. The closer she got, the hungrier her kisses grew; her internal muscles clamping around him. She was there, and he wanted desperately to be there with her. His thrusts went deeper; pulling almost all the way out, before sinking himself completely. On a long, slow drive forward, he felt her p-ssy clenching all around him, holding him in place as she climaxed. He exhaled into her mouth and released with her; staying buried inside her heat until the last of her orgasmic waves passed.

The peace her face held was like framed artwork; sparkling blue eyes half closed, a soft smile on her lips, still swollen from his kiss, her hair spilling over his pillowcase. A pang of emotion gripped his heart. He was in over his head and he knew it.

Lacey felt him withdraw from her and shift away, her backside growing cold from the disappearance of him. She drew the sheets up to her chest and curled into a fetal position.

“What time do you need to be out of the room?” he asked.

“Whenever I feel like it,” she said.

“How about we shower and I'll take you to breakfast?” he asked, and slid from the bed.

Lacey sat up on her elbows. Her eyes glued to his naked form; a smile growing wider by the second.

“God, you're perfect,” she sighed.

He looked at her, disbelief furrowing his brow. “Perfect? I don't think so.”

“Absolutely,” she said. “Everything about you is perfectly defined. Especially that,” she said, her eyes dropping to his penis.

Flynn smiled back at her, ran his fingers through his tangled hair, and stretched while he did it. His mouth opened to say something, then stopped. Instead, he reached for his backpack from the floor beside the bed and walked toward the bathroom.

“I'll be in the shower,” he said, and closed the door.

Lacey flopped back onto the mattress and sighed loudly. Her cell phone ringing on the night table beside the bed pulled her attention away from the naughty thoughts she was having about Flynn.

“Did I interrupt something?” Annie asked.

“He's in the shower,” Lacey said.

“And?”

“And, what?”

“So, how'd it go?”

“Annie – really? Aren't you above asking such questions?”

“Nope, so start spilling.”

Lacey stood up from the bed and walked to the double wide windows overlooking the park. She pushed aside a sheer curtain and peered below, then pressed her forehead to the cool glass.

“You're taking too long to answer,” Annie said. “That must mean things didn't go well.”

“It's not that at all,” Lacey said. “I'm not sure I could possibly explain what I'm feeling right now, but I don't want it to stop.”

“Lacey, this sounds serious.”

“I think it is,” she said. “Let me call you later. I need to shower.”

Lacey walked into the earth-toned granite tiled bathroom with polished brass fixtures and stood outside the glass shower doors. The room was filled with moist, fragrant stream. She closed her eyes and inhaled. The scent was all male; it smelled like Flynn.

She watched him inside the shower stall, his backside to her, as he lathered up his hair to wash. His form mesmerized her and a lump formed in her throat. He set his hands to the tiled wall and tipped his head forward, allowing the water to stream over his head and the back of his neck.

Lacey watched the suds flow down his muscled back and over his butt. She tugged on the handle and stepped inside the oversized stall. He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled.

She stepped closer and pressed the side of her face to his shoulder blade, her breasts to his spine; slowly rubbing in a circular motion. His skin was hot from the water and so very slick. Heat began to pool between her legs. She kissed his wet skin; her tongue licking at the water droplets, her fingers sliding around his ribcage.

He reached for her and pulled her in front of him. Their eyes met and held. He pushed the wet hair off her forehead and allowed his fingers to linger on her face. Her eyes shimmered, so powerfully expressive, they cut through the steam and held on to him. Large droplets of water clung to her lashes before dripping onto her cheeks. A slight quiver moved her bottom lip.

This was not the same woman he saw performing on stage the previous night. Guitar slung low across her hips, she owned that stage, and every person in the arena were her captives. Gone were the sexually suggestive movements, the feminine swagger as she danced around the stage in total control. The woman before him now looked up at him with innocence in her eyes, stripped bare, revealing her soul. She seemed almost too delicate to touch; fragile, and the pang in his heart clenched again.

He was sinking fast. He knew it. Knew he had no business being with a woman like Lacey, had no right to allow himself the pleasure she so willingly offered him. But this was like nothing he'd ever had before and he was powerless to stop.

He traced the delicate features of her face with his fingers; sliding through the moisture exploring each crease, the arch of her brows, the tip of her nose. His eyes followed the path of his fingers, watching as he caressed every inch of her face. The pad of his thumb rubbed across the fullness of her lips. She separated them for him; her tongue drawing his thumb inside.

Heat surrounded his digit. He watched her cheeks hollow as she sucked his thumb deeper, her tongue stroking the sides. It reminded him of what it was like when his cock was in her mouth. The memory made him stiffen and expand another painful inch.

He pulled his thumb out and stepped closer, the entire length of him pressing to her belly. Wet skin to wet skin; the sensation was overwhelming. Her arms slid around him; his face dropped to the bend of her neck.

“I could drown in you,” he said, his voice rough against her skin. His tongue drew a line up to her cheek, then licked the water from her lower lip.

“I can't get enough,” he said, and covered her mouth with his.

Her hands gripped his hips and held him tight to her. His kiss grew hungrier, probing strokes of his tongue with hers matched the slick rhythm he was creating rubbing against her. His entire body moved in a slow, gentle circle. His matted chest hair stirred the most electric friction on her nipples; the slippery plane of his stomach moving on hers. It was bliss. From the inside out, Lacey was on fire.

She came up on her toes; her mouth opened wider for him, fingernails dug into his back. The thick shaft of his cock slipped into the crease of her vee; the pulsing head rubbing up and down strokes over her *. Once again, she was unraveling in his arms.

“Come for me,” he whispered, his tongue teasing her upper lip.

“Put it inside,” she said, struggling to climb up on him.

“No time for a condom,” he said. “It'll have to be like this.” He increased the pressure on her bud and quickened the strokes with the head of his cock; his hands holding her hips in place.

She whimpered, called his name, and curled against him as the orgasm rocked her. He drew her close, rotated her hips in tight circles with his and exploded against her stomach. Flynn staggered and pressed her to the wall with his body. His chest heaved, trying to draw more air into his lungs, then a smile formed on his face. He was surprised at how quickly they had both gotten off. He wiped the hair and water from her face and softly kissed her lips.

“Sorry about the mess,” he said, and bent back to survey the damage he had done to her stomach.

Lacey looked down at herself and ran her fingers through the warm, sticky smears he had ejaculated seconds earlier. Smooth and creamy and so much of it, she lifted her fingers to her mouth and eased them inside to taste.

Flynn took her hand away from her mouth, kissed fingertips, then her mouth. The taste of him mingled and swirled on both their tongues, stoking the flames inside them. Lacey draped her arms around his neck and moaned. His cock was once again hard and pulsing against her lower belly.

“You are unbelievable,” she said on the end of a sigh.

“Let me get a condom,” he said. He opened the shower door and reached for his backpack; retrieving another foil packet. He tore it open with this teeth and rolled it over his cock.

He kissed her hard and hungry.

“I need you now,” she said, trying to climb up on him.

He groaned into her mouth and lifted her; each of his large hands holding a butt cheek in the palm, his long fingers separating; probing. She wrapped her legs around his waist and crossed them at the ankle.

“Hold on,” he warned, and dropped her down onto his shaft in one thrust.

Lacey screamed and tightened her grip on his neck.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded and began rotating her hips.

He held her in his hands, her back positioned against the tiles, tight enough so she wouldn't slip to the floor, but loose enough for her to swivel on his cock. The way she moved her body was magic.

Flynn built their pleasure slowly, levering her up and down on him; while Lacey continued to pivot, his mouth never leaving hers. Each thrust went deeper and Lacey began to climb higher and then she shattered, feeling a lightness of being; almost as if she were floating on a cloud of bliss. Flynn was right behind her, dropping her down onto his cock one final time before he exploded. He held onto her for a long time, then carefully set her down onto her feet.

She looked up at him unable to articulate a single word. Each orgasm seared another brand on her heart. There would be no escaping him now without an emotional beating. She was lost inside him and hoped to hell he was feeling it, too.





Lacey heard a knock on the door to her suite and slipped the hotel robe over her shoulders. She saw a uniformed staff member with a food cart at his hip. She opened the door a crack, keeping the security locking mechanism in place.

“Room service,” the young man said.

“I didn't order anything,” Lacey said.

“Compliments of Michael and Annie,” he said.

Lacey opened the door and allowed the man to push the cart inside. The fragrant smells of steaming black coffee and fresh baked muffins filled the room. A large platter of sliced seasonal fruits in an array of colors was displayed attractively on china and a floral centerpiece finished the decor of the linen-covered table.

Flynn came out of the bedroom; robe tied around his waist, and followed the man to the door. He thanked the man and handed him a tip, before shutting the door.

Lacey opened the gift card attached to the floral arrangement and read it aloud to Flynn.

“Thought you might need some nourishment to replenish this morning. With love, Michael and Annie.”

“That was thoughtful of them,” Flynn said, his arms surrounding her waist. “How'd they know you'd need extra fortification?”

The grin on his face told her he was joking. Lacey playfully slapped his chest and reached for a mug to pour the coffee.

“Annie knew I was hopeful,” she said.

“Hopeful for what?”

“Hopeful you'd come to Boston.”

“You weren't hoping for the sex?” he asked.

“Well, that, too,” she said. “But I definitely didn't anticipate it being that good.”

“I did,” he said. He took the mug she offered and stepped toward the wide expanse of windows overlooking the Public Gardens. “I think that's why I was...reluctant.”

Lacey stood beside him, watching as he blew on his hot coffee. “If you knew it would be that good why would you hesitate?”

He looked at her; opened his mouth to speak and stopped. Lacey touched his bicep and squeezed.

“Tell me,” she said.

“What I felt scared me,” he said softly. His eyes darted to hers and then back to the liquid in his mug.

She stepped closer and set her head on his shoulder. “Me, too,” she said.

They ate in the living room. Flynn sat on the plush couch with Lacey beside him. They used the coffee table to set their plates and hungrily started eating.

“It's been a long time since I've been with anyone,” she said. “I toyed with the idea when Greyson visited, but it didn't feel right.” She finished chewing the slice of honeydew melon and looked at him. “I made a conscious decision a while ago to stay away from men.”

“You're a beautiful woman,” he said. “Why on earth would you do that?”

Lacey shrugged and bit into another piece of melon. “I'm not especially proud of my track record,” she said. “It made sense to wait until I met someone that mattered; someone that actually made me feel something.”

He looked at her and saw regret glistening in her eyes.

“Last night,” she said, and choked back the tears she knew were pooling in her eyes.

He reached out and took her sticky hand in his. “It's okay,” he whispered, his hazel eyes soothing her.

“What I felt last night was a first for me,” she said.

“Maybe now you can understand why I was so nervous,” he said.

“You said you were hesitant.”

“Hesitant. Nervous. Same thing, isn't it?” he said.

“Not really.”

The smile on his face faded. “Things had been building between us for so long, I was nervous I wouldn't measure up to your expectations.”

“Measure up?” Lacey giggled.

“Okay, poor word choice,” he said with a laugh.

Lacey reached for more fruit and popped a strawberry into her mouth. “Are you always like that?”

“Like what?”

“You have a wild side that surprised me,” she said. “I've never allowed myself to enjoy sex the way you do, and now I find myself wanting a whole lot more – just like we did last night.”

Flynn licked his fingers, then wiped his mouth off with a cloth napkin. “I didn't intend to be that rough with you, Lace, if that's what you mean. That was me being out of control; which is something I usually go out my way to avoid.”

Lacey tipped her chin to him. “I love it when you're out of control,” she said. “And I'd like to try some other things with you, if you're interested.”

Flynn swallowed hard and felt his cock twitch beneath the robe. “Give me a few hours to recover from last night...and this morning, and we'll talk.”

“Deal.”

They continued eating and finished most of fruit and coffee, then Lacey carried their plates back to the rolling table left by room service.

“The promoters of the charity event sent a plane for me. You can fly back with me if you want,” she said.

“I drove my truck.”

“Oh, I assumed you'd fly.”

“Why would I fly from western Mass. to Boston when it's an easy drive?”

“How long did it take?” she asked.

“About three and a half hours with traffic,” he said. “I can take you back in my truck, if you'd like. It's not as luxurious as a plane, but I promise you'll get there in one piece.”

“You're implying I'm spoiled,” she said, with one brow lifted.

“You're accustomed to certain perks, Lace, that's all I'm saying,” he said.

“Well, I won't deny that,” she said. “And I worked my ass off to get each and every one of them, too.”

“I'm sure,” he said, his eyes dropping to the perfect roundness of her butt.

“Let me make a phone call and I'll cancel the plane,” she said.

Lacey took her cell phone off the table and punched in the digits to her manager's number.

“Hey, Paul,” she said. “Looks like I have another ride back to the Berkshires and won't be needing that charter flight. Think you could cancel that for me?”

Two hours later, Lacey was sitting beside Flynn in the cab of his truck. He followed the signs to the Turnpike and exited the Expressway. After driving through the tollbooth, Flynn took Lacey's hand and brought it to his lips, softly kissing her fingers.

“My mom would have loved you,” Lacey said.

“When'd she pass away?”

“I was twelve,” she said.

“What about your father?”

Lacey twisted her hands in her lap. “After my mom died, he turned to alcohol,” she said. “He drank himself to death the summer after I graduated high school. By eighteen, I was taking care of myself.”

“Siblings?”

“I have a brother,” she said. “I don't see much of him. He went the white collar suburban route; got married, two point two kids, golden retriever, the whole nine yards. Last time I saw him it was like having dinner with a total stranger. We had very little to talk about.”

“I have two younger brothers,” he said. “Both are still living in Colorado within an hour drive of each other. My parents have been gone a few years now.”

“Do you get along with your brothers?”

“Sure.”

“Then, if the only family you have is out in Colorado, why are you living in Massachusetts?”

“That's a long story,” he said.

“You said it was a three hour drive,” she said. “Might as well entertain me with stories of your youth.” She looked at him and smiled, in spite of the seriousness of the conversation.

“The Berkshires are a lot like where I was living in Colorado, so it feels the same.”

“What part of Colorado?” she asked.

“We were about an hour north of Denver,” he said. “Half hour from Boulder and Estes Park, in a town called Lyons. Ever hear of it?”

Lacey shook her head and Flynn smiled. “I didn't think so,” he said.

“Did you like living there?” she asked.

“About as much as any kid likes their hometown.”

“Were you a ski bum?”

“We skied, drove around like bats out of hell on snowmobiles, you name it – if it went fast enough to risk death, we did it.”

“I bet you had a lot of girlfriends,” she said.

Flynn glanced at her. “No more than any of my friends did,” he said.

“And did you marry one of them?”

He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “I met someone in college,” he said and swallowed hard. “We got married the year after we graduated but it didn't work out.”

“You've probably read about all my failed attempts at 'happily ever after',” she said.

“You mentioned one divorce,” he said.

“One divorce and countless other mistakes,” she said.

“We've all made mistakes, Lace. It's part of growing up,” he said. “The point is, not to let those mistakes define who we are and I don't believe you have.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “What were your mistakes?”

Flynn drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. “Settling for less when it mattered most,” he said.

“Your wife?” she asked.

He nodded and changed lanes on the highway.

Lacey wrung her hands. “Wanna hear some of mine?” she asked.

“If you feel comfortable sharing.”

A long moment passed. Lacey read the signs along the side of the highway.

“I got pregnant at eighteen,” she said. “By a guy I hardly knew. Two and a half months later I miscarried. As ill-prepared as I knew I was to raise a child at that age, I desperately wanted that baby. It was my chance to love something I knew would love me back – no matter what. I still grieve over that and wonder what might have been had the baby survived.”

He reached for her hand again and entwined his fingers with hers.

“I'm sorry you had to go through that, Lace.”

“I sometimes fear Karma has had a hand in me not having a baby,” she said. “Maybe I don't deserve to be a mother. Maybe being childless is my punishment for being so irresponsible over the years.”

“I'm not sure I'd agree with that,” he said. “Have you tried to get pregnant?”

“I thought about it when I was married, but then couldn't imagine being connected to a man like him through a child.”

“You'll be a mom one day,” he said. “And you'll be a great mom, too.”

“You're just saying that,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. She looked at him and studied the soft lines around his eyes. “How old are you?” she asked.

“Why? Are you nervous I'm not old enough to handle your advances?”

Lacey laughed. “My advances? I wasn't alone in that hotel room and I have the hickeys to prove it.” She tipped her neck and displayed a red circle on the skin below her ear. “I believe it was your mouth that made this and a few others you strategically placed all over my body.”

The grin he gave her was mischievous. “You're gonna have to stop talking about that,” he said. “I'm getting hard.”

Her eyes dropped to his lap and the erection expanding the front of his faded jeans.

“Staring at it doesn't help,” he said. “Makes it worse.”

“I could take it out and play with it,” she said, reaching across the cab of the truck to cup his groin.

“Probably not the best idea to play with me while I'm driving in all this traffic,” he said, and removed her hand from between his legs and set it on his thigh.

She gave him a pouty face that made his chest tighten. Her full, moist lips never looked sexier and thoughts of devouring her mouth nearly made him pull the truck over to do just that.

He cleared his throat, trying to force himself to think of something other than the many things he wanted to do to her mouth; or what he visualized sliding into it, besides his tongue.

“Age is just a number, babe,” he said. “In the big scheme of things, it doesn't really matter.”

He pressed her hand against his thigh and smiled brightly. Her eyes lingered on his lips, then moved to the soft hollow beneath his chin. Her fingers fanned on his leg, feeling the hardness of muscle. Emotion washed over her. The silence in the truck was powerfully intimate. She felt safe sitting beside him; protected from everything negative and the pressures of her musician lifestyle. She could smell his aftershave; feel the heat of his body close enough to touch. And she felt love.

Love? Jesus, what the hell was she thinking? Had she completely lost her mind, she wondered? In less than two months, she'd be leaving the cozy cottage nestled in the heart of the Berkshires and slip back into the only lifestyle she had ever known; that of a gypsy living out of suitcases for months on end, while traversing the globe on a whim to entertain total strangers.

Where did that leave time for a life with Flynn? And why, suddenly, was she considering what a life with Flynn would be like? She had no right to consider anything with Flynn. After all, nice guys like Flynn never crossed paths with her. He was way too good for her, she thought, and tears began to fill her eyes.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

Lacey turned toward her window and the greenery at the side of the road slipping passed them.

“I'm happy,” she answered in a small voice.

“You don't look happy,” he said.

He squeezed her hand and their eyes met. “Thank you for coming to my show,” she said.

“My pleasure,” he said, and his lips lifted on one side into a naughty half grin.

“The pleasure wasn't all yours,” she said.

“Damn it,” he said. “I'm getting hard again.”

“Okay, shall we talk about a rousing game of Scrabble or how often you change the oil in your truck?”

“How about we talk about something serious,” he said.

“Like what?” she asked.

“Like your lack of personal security.”

“What about it?” she asked.

“What aren't you using any?” he asked.

“I do on occasion, when I feel it's necessary.”

Flynn ran his fingers through his hair. “Before you moved into the cottage beside me, your manager called.”

“Paul called you?” she asked.

“Yeah, he was concerned about your safety living out in the boondocks,” he said. “Paul asked if I would personally keep an eye on you and make sure you were safe. That's why I had you move in next door. Typically, the musicians that rent the studio live much further away from me; which is the way I like it.”

“Paul had no right to ask you to do that,” she said, her voice raising. “If I thought for one minute my safety was in jeopardy, I would have hired a security detail to babysit.”

Lacey pulled her purse onto her lap and started digging inside for her cell phone. Flynn saw what she was doing and grabbed her hand.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I'm going to call Paul and give him a piece of my mind.”

“That's not necessary, Lace. Paul was only looking out for your best interest.”

“Paul was out of line,” she said. “I haven't had any threats or wackos after me in a long time. If anyone needs security, it's Annie.”

“Why Annie?” he asked.

Lacey realized she had said too much and looked away. Flynn squeezed her hand again.

“Why does Annie need security, Lace?” he asked, using a steady tone.

“Look, we've all had freaks bother us over the years. It comes with the job, Flynn.”

“That doesn't answer my question,” he said, trying to hold her gaze as best he could and still manage to drive.

“Annie had a problem with this one guy in the past,” she said. “And she thinks he might be back.”

“Back, how?”

“Michael doesn't know about this, so you can't say anything,” Lacey pleaded.

“What the f*ck is going on?” he asked.

“A few years back a guy attacked Annie in the bathroom of the Tallahassee Civic Center where we were performing. She wouldn't press charges, so they sent him to jail on some trumped-up drug charges. A couple of weeks ago, Annie said she thought she saw him at a show Michael did outside of Tallahassee. He got close enough to threaten her, but by the time she turned around and security got to her, he was gone.”

“Jesus!”

“The timing would be about right for him to be out of prison,” Lacey said. She looked at him, saw his jaw muscle clenching with tension. “Flynn, I know what you're thinking, but nothing like that has ever happened to me – and I've been performing close to twenty years.”

His free hand rubbed at the tension in his forehead. One more f*cking thing for him to worry about, he thought. How could he keep her safe if she didn't think she needed protecting? He glanced at her; watched her reach between the seats and pull her acoustic guitar from the backseat of the truck cab and lay it across her lap.

“Mind if I play?” she asked.

He shook his head, grateful for the time to be alone with his thoughts. Soft strumming noises and melodic chords soon filled the cab and Flynn's brain began to churn. He had driven to Boston with a mountain of apprehension strapped to his back and now he was driving home with more. He was taking too many chances with Lacey, opening himself up in ways he swore he'd never do again with a woman. But, Jesus, the way she made him feel was like nothing he imagined was possible.

She started singing along with her chords; easy, smooth lyrics that stroked him in all the right places, especially his heart. He looked at her, so casually beautiful, with very little makeup. The sun streaming in through the side window made her hair almost seem to glow. The hint of pink in her cheeks still lingered from their last sex marathon that morning. Then her eyes lifted to his and she smiled; a brilliant smile that made the sunbeams bathing her pale in comparison. And in that moment, everything fell into place for Flynn. He knew he would do anything, go to extreme lengths, do anything it took to keep her safe and in his life... because he loved her.

There it was. Love. The one thing he had managed to avoid and would run hard and fast at the first hint of, was now sitting beside him and smiling, like he was the best thing she'd ever set her eyes on and running from it was the last thing he wanted to do.

A car honking in the next lane snapped Flynn out of his trance. He swerved his truck back into his own lane and sighed loudly.

“Is my music distracting you?” she asked.

“Not at all,” he said. It wasn't her music distracting him or the traffic speeding along side them. And it wasn't the glare from the sun, either. It was her. Simply her.

Sonofabitch, he thought. No matter how he looked at it - he was f*cked.