Page 83 of Playing the Backbeat

“Dylan,oh. Shit.Yes,” she hisses as I fill her. The table hits the wall with the next thrust, and we both freeze. Her eyes glow with mischief as she presses her hips back into me, taking me deeper. When she grinds her hips, the table hits the wall again. I feel her quiet laughter before I hear it, the band thankfully drowning out most of the noise we’re making.

“Fuck it,” I mutter, sinking into her wet cunt, no longer giving a flying fuck who hears. She gasps at the sudden intrusion, a devious smile lighting up her beautiful face. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I watch in the mirror behind her as her head drops back, her ass cheeks sliding farther and farther onto the table with every thrust.

I pull out of her pussy before I tug her hips off the table and flip her back around, our eyes meeting in the mirror as I sink into her wet heat from behind. Her mouth drops open on a moan and I lock my lips onto her shoulder, sucking and biting at her flesh.

“Don’t fucking stop,” she demands, one hand reaching up and back to lock around my neck while her other hand finds her clit. I can’t look anywhere but the juncture of her thighs as her two fingers begin to make tight circles. Her body shakes as she builds, driving us closer and closer toward ecstasy. Heat draws up the backs of my thighs, and my balls tighten.

“Fucking find it, Dee. Come on my fucking cock. Now,” I demand, not relenting one bit from the pace we’ve set.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she rasps, before her head drops back onto my shoulder, and I watch transfixed as her body convulses and she gasps. “Fuck,” she moans, turning her head into my neck, and her grip on me tightens, her other hand circling her clit faster.

The sight of her tipping over the edge slams me into my own mind-blowing release, and I fill her, my cum leaking from where we’re joined.

“Holy fuck,” I groan, her hair tickling my chin as I fall lax against her, my body spent.

Our combined release slips from her pussy onto my dick. The sight has my cock twitching inside of her.

“You asshole,” Dee pants. “I have to go back out there like this.”

“Give me a minute. I’ll help you.” I pull out of her and drop to one knee, putting myself at eye level with her pretty pink pussy. “Fuck, you look perfect like this.” I spread her ass, palms flat on her cheeks before I lick along her slit, from clit to asshole. Her moan, on top of the taste of her, has me hard in an instant.

“If you make that sound again, we’re never leaving this room,” I warn her.

“Is that a promise?” she taunts me. I slap her ass and she squeals.

We clean ourselves up then I walk her back to the bar, my hand never leaving her lower back. Vicki gives me a knowinglook before I turn, practically skipping all the way back to my office.

Happy New Year to us.

Chapter thirty-seven

Dee

We haven’t talked about it. What any of this means between us. The hottest sex of my life. The easy banter between us. The ease with which we share our small apartment.

Our apartment.

I’m not even sure when we started calling it that, but we do. When Dylan gave me my work schedule for the month, I was annoyed we had to work a New Year’s Eve concert, but it ended up being a great time.

The quickie in the dressing room? Yeah, I don’t mind working the holiday if that’s my reward.

The band’s energy was electric tonight. The crowd was all in. Champagne toasts, confetti drop, kissing couples everywhere you turned. But I barely noticed any of it, because when midnight struck, strong arms wrapped around my waist, pulled me close, and before I could manage to turn myself around, Dylan leaned over my shoulder, dropping his lips against mine and taking the most perfect midnight kiss from me. His palms flexed over my stomach and neck, his tongue dancing withmine, before he pulled away abruptly, leaving me stumbling and grasping the edge of the bar to steady myself while I watched him walk back into the crowd and toward the side stage entrance.

I touch my lips, faintly tastingusfrom earlier tonight on his tongue.

I want him again.

“That was hot,” Sandy, my favorite regular, yells from the other end of the counter, and her friends all nod in agreement, sipping from the straws of their drinks.

I stumble over to their end of the bar and pour myself a drink, cheersing her. “What should I do about him?” I ask. Dylan didn’t lie; Sandy and her friends may be retired, but they have more energy than I do.

Sandy leans forward, giving a conspiratorial glance at her friends, then yells, “Give him a night he’ll never forget. One you won’t either.” She winks, then howls with laughter as her girlfriends all clink their glasses together. “Trust me, I’ve never had a kiss like that and regretted anything that came afterward.”

“Oh yeah?” I laugh. “Who gave you that kiss?”

Her smile turns wistful. “Ben.” The woman next to her wraps her arm around her and leans against her shoulder, a comforting gesture. “My late husband.”

Oh fuck.