BANGED: Rock Stars, Bad Boys & Dirty Deeds Page 7

  A frown pulled at Chloe’s eyebrows, her fingers gripping his thighs a little harder as she straightened her spine. “What did Josh say?”

  Jed chuckled at the prickly waves suddenly radiating off her. “He said he had issues with a guy who has my issues sniffing around you.”

  She narrowed her eyes, her stare holding his. “Josh can go suck a lemon,” she declared. “And so can Dad.”

  Jed raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry? A lemon?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she shoved herself to her feet, climbed onto the sofa, straddled his groin, tangled her hands in his hair, and kissed him.

  Senseless. Until he could hardly draw breath and was harder than he’d ever been in his life.

  When she lifted her head, cupping his face in hands that were warm and tender and at the same time trembling, he gazed up into her face, his cock so close to penetrating her heat, his heart thumping.

  “How serious were you about marrying me?” he murmured.

  Chloe brushed her thumb over his bottom lip. “Very. Know anywhere we can do it now?”

  SIX

  The twenty-four-hour wedding chapel in Long Beach declared itself the “cutest little wedding chapel in California”.

  Chloe didn’t care one iota that that statement was a tad optimistic.

  All that mattered was that she was now Mrs. Jed Brody.

  She wasn’t drunk. She wasn’t high.

  She was totally and completely happy and in love.

  The man her father had told her she was never to get involved with was nothing like his reputation and everything she wanted.

  Everything.

  Articulate. Sensitive. Gentle. Wild. Strong. Wounded. Talented. Funny. Sarcastic. Sexy.

  “Thanks, Ralph.”

  At Jed’s voice, she turned from the view of the lantern-lit koi pond through the bay window of the chapel and watched her husband shake the hand of the celebrant who’d declared them husband and wife ten minutes ago.

  Ralph looked incredibly spry for someone who’d just officiated a wedding at 3:45 a.m. Of course, they’d given him warning they were coming via a phone call. It had taken them almost ninety minutes to get there, partly due to their taxi driver getting lost once, partly due to the fact they ended up bonking like rabbits in the shower as they were getting ready to leave the hotel, partly due to the fact they’d swung buy an open pawn shop on the way and bought two slim gold wedding bands for their fingers.

  Chloe had apologized for waking Ralph when they arrived. He waved her off with a wide smile and promptly informed her he’d married two couples in the hour previous to their arrival.

  “It’s a booming trade, love,” he’d said with a wink as he led them into the chapel. “Especially in the wee hours of the morning.”

  Fifteen minutes later, after some lovely words about love from Ralph, and vows from her and Jed that included the words truth, honesty, passionately, and laughter, he pronounced them married. His wife-slash-organist witnessed it. And threw white and pink rose petals over them when they sealed the deal with a kiss.

  Done.

  Chloe didn’t think it was possible to be happier, but at the sight of Jed smiling his thanks at the celebrant—a simple, normal thing for a guy to do at his wedding—her heart exploded with warm joy.

  Wow. She was married to that guy. He was her husband and she was his wife. Wow.

  Unable to stop herself, she broke out in a wide grin and wriggled with delight.

  She was Mrs. Jed Brody.

  Dropping a glance at her finger, she smiled at the gold band circling her ring finger.

  It matched the band on Jed’s finger. Plain gold, no engraving. Simple and elegant and perfect.

  Perfect.

  Everything was perfect.

  “My wife.”

  She lifted her head at Jed’s low murmur just as his warm hands cupped her face and he brushed her lips in a gentle kiss.

  “My husband,” she whispered back as he straightened.

  “Ready to go?”

  She pressed her hips to his and squeezed his butt with playful pressure. “Time to consummate the wedding, do you mean?”

  He nodded, his groin pulsing against her belly. “Hell, yeah.”

  “Then, hell, yeah,” she answered before kissing him with teasing quickness.

  They exited the chapel, arms slung around other’s backs, hips brushing, incapable of looking anywhere else but at each other.

  It wasn’t until a bright flash of light detonated on Chloe’s left that she tore her gaze—and grin—away from Jed.

  “Fuck,” Jed muttered, tugging her closer to his body and raising an arm to shield them both. “Bloody papar…”

  He trailed off as the group of giggling women on the footpath beside them—clearly a girls’ night gone wild—started snapping selfies of themselves in front of the chapel’s entry.

  Chloe burst out laughing, even as her heart rate did its best to return to normal. “How’s that ego of yours, Mr. Brody?”

  He hauled her harder to his body and pouted with melodramatic hurt. “Wounded, Mrs. Brody. Wounded.”

  He kissed her before she could respond.

  Behind them, the girls’ night party started singing “Going to the Chapel” as the most out-of-pitch choir Chloe had ever heard.

  “C’mon,” Jed rumbled against her lips, “let’s get out of here.”

  They started walking, hand in hand, their steps in unison.

  “So…” Jed shot her a smile. “What would you like for a wedding present?”

  Chloe frowned with careful consideration. “Umm…”

  “A puppy? A Ferrari? A castle in Europe somewhere?” He scanned the immediate area, his frown comical. “I’m sure I can buy at least two of those things around here somewhere. But the puppy may have to wait until we’re back in Oz, I’m afraid.”

  Chloe laughed, and then placed herself directly in his path and kissed him as he came to a halt.

  God, would she ever get enough of him?

  Pulling away, she squeezed his butt again—she would definitely never get over it, that was for certain—and then smoothed her hands up his back. “The puppy sounds perfect. But for now…”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Castle in Europe?”

  She shook her head.

  “Ferrari?”

  “No.”

  “Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re a Lamborghini girl?” Mock horror flooded his face, even as he reciprocated her butt squeeze, his fingers kneading her backside with delicious pressure. “I’ll have to ask for an annulment if you’re a Lamborghini girl, I’m afraid.”

  “I will never drive or own a Lamborghini,” she assured him with a smile. “No, I’m thinking something more…personal.”

  Devilish mirth danced in his eyes. “Oral sex on the footpath?”

  She burst out laughing. “Deviant.”

  He grinned. “Well, yeah.”

  “As inviting as that sounds,” she threaded her fingers through his once more and began walking backwards, “I’ve got something else in mind.”

  He let her tug him along. “Which is?”

  A taxi drove into Chloe’s line of sight and, with a grin, she dropped Jed’s hand and flagged it down with a wave of her arm.

  “Get in,” she ordered as she opened the back door.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, doing exactly as instructed.

  “That’s why this marriage is going to be perfect,” she said as she settled in beside him. “Because you know who’s in charge.”

  “That, and the incredible sex,” he answered before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

  “That too,” she agreed when they both came up for air.

  Leaning forward, she gave the driver—watching them both via the rearview mirror with what looked like a smirk on his face—the address of their destination, and then nestled herself back against Jed’s side.

  “You going to tell me where we’re going?”

  “Nope.�
��

  “Okay.”

  Chloe lost track of how long it took them to arrive. They spent the journey talking about puppies, of all things. Jed wanted a pet dingo whom he would call Baby. Chloe laughed at that so much she snorted, something she hadn’t done since she was a teenager.

  By the time they pulled to a halt outside Angel Ink 24 Hour Tattoo Parlor, they’d decided their puppy was going to be two puppies, both rescue dogs, which they were going to call Groot and Rocket.

  Face aching from smiling so much, Chloe thanked their driver and climbed from the taxi. She heard the man say something to Jed as he paid the fare, heard Jed chuckle, and then her husband was standing behind her, his hands smoothing over her tummy as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Are you sure?” he asked, taking in the front of Angel Ink.

  She twisted in his arms a little and smiled. “Just as sure as I am that marrying you is the best thing I’ve ever done.”

  He pulled a satisfied face. “In that case…”

  An hour later, they emerged with matching tattoos on the backs of their necks to go with their matching rings.

  Standing on the footpath outside the parlor, Chloe tentatively touched the bandage covering the image of a cello and an acoustic guitar melding together, now inked into her skin. “Well, that hurt more than I thought it would.”

  Jed smoothed his hands over her hips and tugged her to his body. “It goes away quickly,” he said gently. “Trust me.”

  Chloe smiled up at him. “I do. Completely and totally.”

  He gazed into her eyes, his expression growing serious. “I love you. I know it’s insane, but I love you.”

  “Sometimes insanity is the reality no one wants to believe possible,” she whispered.

  His chest swelled against hers as he drew in a slow breath and cupped her face in his hands. “And now I love you even—”

  A white light flashed beside them.

  Followed by another. And another.

  Chloe winced and flinched from the blinding detonations.

  “Hey, Jed,” a male voice called from behind the blinding flashes. “How long have you and Chloe Blackthorne been seeing each other?”

  Jed’s arms around her tightened and, as another flash bleached the night, he let out a low growl. “Piss off, mate. Go find someone else to annoy.”

  “C’mon, Jed.” Flash. “Give us a smile.” Flash. “Or another kiss.” Flash. “Or show us your tattoos.” Flash.

  Anger shot through Jed and he bit back a growl. Someone in the tattoo parlor must have tipped the prick off.

  Another flash of white light filled his vision.

  “Are they matching?” the man asked.

  In Jed’s arms, Chloe stiffened. “Want me to stick that camera up your arse?”

  “Whoa,” the pap—who Chloe could only just discern through the flash-burn splotches in her vision—laughed. “The sweet little Untouchable’s got a gutter mouth.”

  Another flash.

  Jed spun, putting his back between Chloe and the camera. “C’mon, mate. Leave us alone.”

  She could feel the tension in his body. His arms around her were growing tighter with every flash of the paparazzo’s camera and every goading word out of the man’s mouth.

  “So, you do anything dirty to that mouth yet, Jed?”

  Jed froze. Chloe’s stomach dropped.

  Oh no.

  “Jed.” She fisted her hands in his shirt, desperate for him to look at her instead of the man pointing the camera at them, smirk wide and knowing. “Jed, let’s go. Let’s—”

  “Are they wedding rings?” Crude joy filled the man’s question. The flash fired again. “The Untouchable’s not so untouched now I bet, ’eh, Jed? Tell me, is she hot in the sack?”

  Chloe clawed at Jed’s shirt. Her husband didn’t move. Fury radiated from him. His arms circled her. His heart thumped in his chest so hard and fast she could feel it in her breast.

  The flash fired again. So close, so bright, pain speared her eyes. She winced again.

  “Nice talking to you, mate,” Jed suddenly declared, his voice completely relaxed. “Cheers.”

  His hand smoothed over her back and, with a gentle hug, he pulled her to his side and began walking away from the pap.

  Chloe shot him a quick look, surprised at the expression on his face. “Wow,” she murmured. “You look calm.”

  Jed shrugged. “He’s not worth it. Trust me, for what he just said about you, I’d gladly shut him up, but he’s not worth losing our future together.”

  Behind them, the pap followed, still hurling insults and taking photos.

  Jed seemed uninterested, bored almost. In fact, his lips were curled in an easy smile and his pace wasn’t hurried at all.

  Chloe gazed up at him, her heart pounding. “I fucking love you, husband.”

  He dropped her a wink. “The feeling is entirely—”

  The sound of tires screeching to a halt on the street beside them cut him short.

  “Get in, get in,” their earlier taxi driver shouted at them from behind the steering wheel, beckoning with a frenzied hand waving through the open window.

  Jed laughed. “Bloody perfect timing.”

  Chloe sprinted for the back passenger door.

  They threw themselves into the backseat, the pap chasing after them.

  It wasn’t until they were speeding down the street, almost a block away, that she remembered to breathe again. “Whoa.”

  “Mate,” Jed leant forward and clapped the driver on his shoulder through the security partition. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  The man flashed a toothy smile at him. “You’re welcome. Where can I take you?”

  Dropping back beside her, Jed gave Chloe a curious look.

  She wriggled deeper into his side, rested her head on his shoulder, and gave the driver her own smile. “The Beverly Wilshire.”

  “The Beverly Wilshire,” the cabbie confirmed, a second before the taxi’s speed increased.

  Silence stretched between them. There was nothing awkward or uncomfortable about it. Chloe closed her eyes, loving how perfect it felt to relax cuddled into Jed, how easy she fit to his angles.

  With one arm hugging her to him, he drew lazy circles on the side of her thigh with his fingers, his lips occasionally pressing against the top of her head.

  She listened to his heart, counting its beats, losing herself to the rhythm.

  There was music in its soft beat, a music she felt all the way to her soul.

  He is better than playing the cello.

  It was the last thing she remembered thinking before being woken by a gentle kiss. “Hey, wife. We’re here.”

  Opening her eyes, she squinted around herself.

  The taxi had pulled to a halt outside her hotel. “I fell asleep?” She straightened off Jed and rubbed at her eyes. “Well, that was boring of me.”

  Jed chuckled. “You snored a little. It was adorable.”

  Chloe gasped. “I did not.”

  He grinned. “Ask our driver.”

  The taxi driver twisted in his seat and gave her an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid you did, Mrs. Rabbit.”

  Jed’s grin stretched wider. Chloe couldn’t contain her own smile at the moniker Rabbit. Yeah, Jed was perfect for her.

  “Okay, Mr. Rabbit,” she said, as she opened the back door. “Time to get your cottontail out of the cab.”

  It took them five minutes to make it back up to her suite. They weren’t accosted by paparazzi or harangued by family members unexpectedly ambushing them in the foyer. Jed carried her stilettoes for her in one hand, his other curled around her hip to hug her to his side. Chloe scrolled through the photos on her smartphone that Ralph’s wife had snapped for them of the ceremony, her heart swelling with happiness at each one.

  There was no denying the love in her and Jed’s eyes in those photos. The joy in their faces.

  They rode the lift with a lovely couple from Texas who didn’t recognized either of them, the
conversation focused on why so many elevators insisted on having mirrored walls.

  The whole time, Chloe’s tummy kept fluttering with excitement and happiness. Jed held her hand as the four of them chatted, their fingers threaded together, the feel of his wedding ring against her finger a wonderful thrill she knew she’d never tire of.

  Barely two steps into her suite, with the door closed behind them and the faintest hint of dawn in the sky beyond the expansive windows, she turned to Jed, buried her hands in his hair, and captured his lips with hers.

  He met her passion with a hungry growl, dropping her shoes and walking her backward into the suite without breaking the kiss, his hands tugging at her clothes. She sought out his belt, his fly, lowering the zipper to plunge her hand down his jeans just as he popped the last button on the white silk shirt she’d worn to their wedding.

  She palmed his erection the exact moment he dragged the right cup of her bra free of her breast.

  “I’m going to fuck you senseless, wife,” he groaned against her lips before dragging his mouth down to her breast to suck on her erect nipple.

  She moaned and bowed into the possession, her feet somehow still moving her backward even as her brain grew fogged with pleasure.

  When the backs of her thighs bumped into something hard and immobile, she barely had the breath to let out a grunt.

  With a hungry growl that sent liquid heat to her core, Jed removed his mouth from her breast, grinding his hips to hers as he pressed her against whatever they’d encountered and took her lips again.

  Sofa. Back of the sofa…

  She wrapped one thigh around his hip, desperate to have his length inside her. The flirty mini-skirt she’d worn to the chapel—delicate pastel mint in colour and soft and floaty in fabric—rode up her leg and Jed immediately took advantage of its new position, dragging a hand over the back of her thigh to cup and squeeze her butt cheek.

  His erection rubbed at the curve of her sex, the rigid pole still imprisoned by his jeans. Chloe reached for it, parting his open fly as wide as she could before wrapping her fingers around his hot flesh and pumping.