Kickstart My Heart, Episode 8

Another night and I find myself walking Mallory to her door. Except tonight she actually invites me upstairs.
At the door, she hesitates. “I don’t have much to offer. To drink I mean.”
“That’s okay. I’ll get going.” I bend down and brush a chaste kiss over her cheek. Her eyes flutter shut and she takes a deep breath.
“You don’t have to. You can come in.” Everything about her is a mixture of sexy and innocent. It bothers me to think the longer she stays in Hollywood the more jaded she’ll become.
What a joke. If she’s in danger of being corrupted by anything, it’s me.
She pushes inside and leads me into her kitchen. I’m struck dumb watching her dig around in the refrigerator.
I will not think about pulling her shorts down her killer legs and slamming into her from behind.
Nope. My dick has different plans. Once the image of gripping her hips in my hands pops into my head, I can’t shake it. My body responds immediately. I shift and adjust myself, knowing I won’t get relief tonight.
Finally, she stands and turns, handing me a can of 7-Up. “What’s wrong?”
Her gaze drops. Big blue eyes widen. Christ, really? Having her staring at my dick gives him the wrong idea.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yup,” I manage to croak out after a long swallow of sweet lemon-lime soda.
“I’m sorry I don’t have beer or alcohol.”
“That’s fine.”
She takes a few steps closer. “What’s your real name?”
“Russell.” Why am I telling her this?
“Mmm, that’s nice. Why do they call you Chaser?”
I can’t look her in the eye when I explain, but I can’t stand lying to her. “Joke around my dad’s clubhouse. Ever since I turned thirteen all I wanted to do was chase tail.”
She gives me a blank look.
Instead of explaining, I take the can of soda out of her hand and set it on the counter. My fingers cup her chin, firm enough so she won’t shy away. My lips brush against hers and she sighs, melting against me. Her arms snake around my neck, so we’re chest to chest. She’s so warm and soft. I don’t want to let her go, even though I should.
Her hands thread through my hair as she pulls me closer. She leans up on her tiptoes, “Make love to me,” she breathes out against my ear.
Fuck me. Love? Have I ever done that? I can’t be sure so that probably means no.
I draw back so I can see her eyes. “Are you positive?” I keep searching her face for any signs she’s unsure. But she only nods and smiles up at me.
“I need it.”
It. Not me.
“What’s changed?” Why am I asking? Who cares why she wants to fuck?
“I like you. A lot.”
“Are you sure you’re just not looking to lose your virginity? You know, get it over with?”
So what? If that’s her reason. Sign. Me. Up.
“What if I do want to get it over with? You seem like you’re probably good at it.”
I snort and almost choke. “Oh, I’m good at it, baby. But I don’t want you to be sorry tomorrow.”
She swallows hard and takes a few long seconds to meet my eyes. “I won’t be sorry,” she whispers.
Like flipping a switch, everything changes.

“Bed, Mallory. Now,” he rasps.
A full-body shiver of excitement travels down my spine. I could bask in his desire for me all night.
Inside my bedroom, he shuts the door and pulls me to him for a kiss.
I shouldn’t be doing this. Not because I’m not ready or because I don’t care for him—I care for him more than makes sense.
No, this is wrong because I’m lying to him. He has no idea who I am, what type of family I’m from. What danger he’s walking into by getting involved with me.
Sleeping with Chaser is selfish. But I can’t seem to stop myself.
These kisses are completely different than the ones we’ve shared before. Shivers of happiness dance through my body. His hands tighten on my face as his lips claim my mouth again. Not the soft, tender kisses he gave me a few minutes ago. These are hungry, fierce, hot kisses. Our mouths meld together. His hands drop to my shoulders and he kisses his way down my neck. Sucking, licking, even nipping at my skin. My mind blanks. My insides melt, pooling between my legs. There’s nothing except Chaser and me. Even the bite from his whisker stubble feels good.
“Shit, Mallory. Since the minute I saw you, I’ve imagined doing this.”
He pulls away, still close, but his eyes dart over my face. “Yes, really.” His hands go to the hem of my shirt and he looks me in the eye, silently asking. I answer by lifting my arms over my head allowing him to strip my shirt off.
“Jesus, you’re beautiful.”
My skin flushes from his words and the way he studies all my newly exposed skin. Nervously, my hands cup my breasts. “The first agent I spoke to said I needed a boob job.”
Why did I say that?
A low growly noise comes from the back of his throat. “Don’t you dare.” The hot, possessive way he says it leaves me aching for his touch.
“Come here,” he says, cupping his hands over my hips and steering me toward the bed. The thin curtains the apartment came with do a lousy job keeping light out. So there’s enough from the outside street lamps to see where we’re going. At the bed, he stops and his big, warm hands brush against my belly. His fingers quickly work the button of my shorts loose and he shoves them down my legs.
He straightens and strips down to his boxers before nudging me onto the bed. My fingers automatically reach out and grasp the medallion that swings from a chain around his neck. “What’s this?”
“Family thing. Don’t worry about it.” He tugs it from my fingers and leans down to kiss me. All the sensations overwhelm me. His mouth against mine. His hands at my sides, his body hovering above me. Fear and excitement take turns prickling over my skin.
His mouth moves down my chest, pushing the cups of my bra down, running his tongue over my bared nipples.
Oh my God.
I need him to do that again.
My fingers tighten in his hair. As if he knows what I’m asking—no, dying for—his mouth closes over one nipple. Kissing, licking, sucking, gentle biting. He teases, tastes and plays with me until I can’t take another touch. I can’t remember how to breathe when the hardness between his legs presses against the softness between mine.
He stops his wonderful torture and glances up at me. “Please what, princess?”
“I—I don’t know. Please, do more.”
“Yes.” The word comes out in a soft hiss and he chuckles.
“Yes, what? What do you want?”
“More. Kiss me.”
He presses into me as he takes my mouth. I slide my hands over his broad shoulders, to his wide, smooth back. My fingers drift lower, sneaking under the waistband of his shorts, sinking into the firm muscle.
“Adventurous are you?”
I can only nod.
His callused thumbs brush the soft skin at my hip bones. Lower, I need him to stroke a little lower. Every touch, kiss, breath between us ramps up my need until I’m burning for things I’ve never known. No one’s ever made me feel like this before. There were a couple of boys in school that I traded kisses with. But I might as well have been kissing air, because they didn’t get me worked up anywhere near this.
He shifts a touch, creating room to move his hand under my panties, stroking damp curls. My entire body stiffens, embarrassed about…everything.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Look at me.” He waits until our eyes meet. “Are you nervous?”
“I guess so.”
“Want me to stop?”
Do I? I’m not sure now.
His smile fades and he holds my gaze a little longer. “I’ll be gentle. I’ll take care of you.”
I’m not sure what he means exactly, but I trust him.
His mouth follows the curves of my body as he inches his way lower and lower. The way his nose nuzzles along my skin tickles, and I giggle.
“Hmm, laughter’s not what I’m after.”
“Well, that tickles.”
Hooking his fingers in my panties, he drags the material down my legs. Heat warms my skin. No one’s ever seen me in so little and I’m suddenly self-conscious. My hand moves to cover myself.
He picks up my hand and sets it over my belly button. “Don’t hide yourself from me. You’re mine now. Understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
His mouth trails up from the side of my knee to the inside of my thigh, nuzzling and sucking. My hips jerk at the jolt of pleasure.
“I’ve barely started, princess.” He glances up at me. “You like that?”
“I think so.”
“Anyone ever go down on you before?”
Confused, I shake my head. Fear, curiosity, and uncertainty war inside me.
“Fuck me,” he mutters. “I’m happy to be your first.”
“Me too.”
He moves lower, places his big hands on my thighs, stopping me from closing them. “Don’t fight me.”
“I’m nervous.”
This time he doesn’t answer. He uses his thumbs to spread my wet flesh and brushes his tongue against my sensitive skin.
“Oh!” I sit up, then fall back down as he circles my opening with his tongue.
His fingers stroke a soft pattern up and down while he stares up at me. “Want more?”
I can’t believe I’m begging him to…to touch me there. With his mouth. Oh my God. His tongue flicks over me, filling every emptiness with pleasure. He sucks and teases until I feel like I’ll burst.
“Chaser?” My voice squeaks and shakes. Something’s happening but I’m not sure what to do.
“You can come, Mallory. I still plan to fuck you.”
He puts his mouth on me again and holds my gaze. He licks harder, strokes faster until I burst with pleasure, lifting my hips, shoving myself against his face. He grabs my thighs to keep me spread open.
“Feel good having that princess pussy of your tongue-fucked for the first time?” he rasps.
Oh my God. Heat stings my cheeks, but I whisper the truth. “So, so good.”
More tiny cries and broken words pass my lips. Hot and cold tingles over my skin from my toes to the tips of my fingers.
When I settle down, he kisses his way back up my body. This time, I feel the hard, hot length of him against my side. Somewhere along the way, he’d lost his shorts.
“Chaser? Protection? I don’t—”
“Got it, baby.” He flashes a small silver square at me. Should I worry about a man who carries condoms around or just be thankful?
My brain fuzzes with the question.
Anxiety prickles my skin and I can’t seem to catch my breath.
“Mallory?” Chaser stares at me with concern. “You still okay?”
I open my mouth, but no words come out.
He stops and tosses the condom back on my nightstand. “Come here.” He sits back and holds out his arms.
I sit up and crawl closer, allowing myself to take shelter in his embrace, even though shame washes over me for ruining the moment.
“Too much, too soon?” he murmurs, stroking his hand over my hair and down my back.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
I take in a few gulps of air and attempt to pull away. “I’m okay. Let’s—
“Not tonight.”
Tears fill my eyes. I don’t want him mad at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin—”
“Mallory, stop. You didn’t ruin anything.”
“But?” I sit back and stare at his erection.
He reaches over and grabs his shorts. “I’m a big boy, Mallory. I know how to control myself.”

What happened? Where’d I fuck up? Probably the tongue-fucking talk turned her off. Freaked her out. Scared her.
You’re such an asshole.
Too eager to get inside her, all the filth in my head came spilling out of my mouth. Well, okay, not all of it. She would’ve run screaming from the room if I told her all the things I wanted to do to her lush little body.
“Come here,” I say, sprawling out on her bed.
She cuddles up close and I wrap my arms around her. Can’t do anything about my dick. I’m still hard enough to pound nails.
“Cold?” I ask, pulling the sheet over her. More because I’m concerned about all her hot, naked skin pressed up against me than a drop in temperature.
“Thank you.”
“Not being mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad?”
“I don’t mean to be a tease.”
I turn and press a kiss to her forehead, then the tip of her nose. “You’re not a tease.”
Her soft lips brush my shoulder and she murmurs something. A few minutes later she seems to be falling asleep. I glance down at my tented shorts. Sleep’s not coming for me anytime soon.
How much of a creepy bastard would I be if I rubbed one out in her bathroom right now?
I suppose I could go home and relieve the pressure with one of the dozens of groupies probably hanging out at our apartment tonight.
But it’s the last thing in the world I want to do.
Slow, so I don’t wake her, I slide out of bed.
She mumbles and reaches for me. “Where’re you going?”
“Mind if I use your shower?”
“Okay,” she answers without opening her eyes.
For a second I stare at her. I should be able to come up with something more original. A lyric. Something less trite. But she looks like a sleeping angel with her flushed cheeks and white-blonde hair spilling all over the pillows.
Shower. Now.
Hurrying into the bathroom, I quietly close the door behind me. Her bathroom’s a hell of a lot nicer than mine. The whole band could fit inside the glass-enclosed shower. The water’s hot right away and the pipes don’t even rattle.
Mallory’s scent still clings to my skin. Her taste on my tongue. I focus on that as I step into the shower and stroke my hand over my cock. Closing my eyes, I picture her face as I made her come—
“Did I wake you?” I ask without turning around. My hand’s still in a death-grip around my cock.
“I’m sorry,” she says with a pitiful hiccup.
That turns me around. I push open the door. “What are you sorry about?”
“I didn’t mean to make you suffer.” She’s totally serious too.
What kind of asshole does she think I am?
“I’m fine. I just needed to calm down so I can sleep.” True as it is, it sounds fucking lame.
Her gaze drops to my dick. “Let me. Can I?” The sadness in her expression seems to evaporate. Or is that my wishful thinking? Either way, her tongue slicks over her top lip like she’s dying to taste my cock.
No. She’s not ready. The way she froze up in the bedroom. No.
“I don’t think you’re ready for that.”
She meets my eyes and there’s a hungry look I want to believe means she is ready to explore.
“I want to try.”
Good enough for me.
I hold out my hand and she steps into the shower with me. Her soft hands press against my chest and she leans up to kiss my cheek.
My hands frame her face so I can see her eyes. “What do you want?”
“To make you feel as good as you made me.” Her hands skate over my skin and her fingers lightly graze the head of my cock. I let out a long, tortured groan.
“Please?” she asks.
Is she begging to touch my dick? If so, the answer will always be, fuck yes!
I want more than her touch, though. I want my hand in her hair as I force her to her knees on the slippery shower floor. My cock between her plump, pink lips. Her tongue swirling around the head.
I’m standing there mute, unable to form any coherent words while her hands stroke up and down my dick.
“I want to taste you,” she says.
“Uh.” Good answer, moron.
She moves to kneel in front of me and I stop her. The tub has a ledge wide enough for her to sit on, placing her at the perfect height. I use my bigger body to back her up until she bumps up against the porcelain.
Innocent or not, she doesn’t need me to explain. She perches on the edge—still keeping her hands wrapped around me—and stares up. Innocence and lust written all over that angelic face of hers. Fuck if I’m not going to name our next album Innocent Lust.
“What do you like?” she asks.
“I like your hands on my cock.”
She keeps stroking and staring. And it finally occurs to me. She’s not only a virgin, she’s an innocent virgin. I’ve known lots of girls who still considered themselves “virgins” because they’d taken a cock everywhere except their pussy. Saving it for marriage like some sacred gift to prove their worth to their future husband. At twenty, I assumed Mallory had some experience. But it’s pretty clear that’s not the case.
“Here,” I show her a slightly different hold and slowly move my hand over hers. Up and down, I guide her hands.
“Harder. You won’t break it,” I encourage.
She swoops in and licks the tip like a damn ice cream cone and I hiss with pleasure.
“Did that hurt?” She blinks up at me as if she’s really worried her soft little tongue did some damage.
“Nope.” I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “Feels good.”
Do not come in her face, motherfucker. You’ll scar her for life.
Curiosity seems to overtake her fear and she experiments with different licks and touches. Slowly killing me in the process.
I slap my palms against the wall to keep myself from falling over and stare down at her.
“Is this okay?” she asks, peeking up at me.
“It’s amazing. Please. Don’t stop.”
She teases me like that for an eternity, leaving me so worked up I’m scared for my health. What if my balls burst?
I wrap my hand around my cock, pressing the tip against her lips. “Open.”
She goes a step farther, opening wide and sticking her tongue out. Swear to God, I almost explode.
Slowly, I slide my cock against her tongue and she opens wider to accommodate me. “Suck,” I encourage.
Her lips close over my cock and I groan. “Good.”
After a few test runs, she seems more confident. Runs her mouth up and down, almost taking me to the back of her throat. Her hand follows, twisting right at the end.
A familiar rush of pleasure shoots down my spine and at the last second, I remind myself to pull away, shooting cum all over her perky tits. My eyes close even though I want to watch as I cover her in my seed. Feels so damn good, I can’t stop.
That groan echoing around us in the shower? All me.
“Fuck, Mallory.”
When I finally open my eyes, she’s smiling and looking pretty damn impressed with herself. As she should be. My legs are still shaking.
She stares up at me. “Was that good?”
“It was amazing,” I assure her, yanking her up against me for a kiss. “Thank you.”
“Would you rather come in my mouth?” She drops her gaze to our feet. “Do you usually prefer that?”
My brain can’t figure out the answer to her question. Usually, prefer? My only preference is Mallory. Any way I can have her.
“That was perfect.”
“Does it make up for before?” She tilts her head toward the bedroom.
I don’t want her feeling like she had to come suck me off or I’d be pissed at her or something. “You didn’t have anything to make up for, but I loved every second.”
She still seems unsure. “I’ve never done that before.”
I kind of figured, but I don’t want to insult her. Not when she gave me what has to be the most mind-shattering orgasm of my life. I lean down and kiss her cheek. “I’m honored to be the first.”


In love with romance and dirty-talking, alpha heroes.

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