Trouble Rising (New Adult Rock Star Romance): Tyler and Katie's Story #3 by Emme Rollins Page A
Authors: Emme Rollins
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done?” Tyler’s hand moved under the covers, cupping my breast. He thumbed my nipple, making me gasp and open my eyes. Then I heard it again—my phone buzzing.
“I guess I should get that, before we start the engines again.” I bit my lip, starting to slide across the mattress away from him.
“Oh no.” He grabbed my hip, keeping me close. “I’ve got four more orgasms to give you first.”
“First?” I laughed, trying to twist out of his grip. “But what if it’s an emergency.”
“Orgasm emergency, maybe.” He grinned, lifting the edge of the comforter and diving underneath it.
I squealed, back-pedaling toward the pillows, but he grabbed my legs, yanking me back under the covers.
“Ty!” I cried, trying to wiggle away, but he held me fast, nipping at my thighs, soothing the nibbles with his tongue, working his way up toward my sex. I was still swollen and starting to get a little sore, but the feel of him between my legs made my pussy start to throb.
“Mmmm more dessert,” he said, his voice muffled under the covers. “There’s always room for Katie.”
I laughed, squirming in his hold, knowing that fighting him was impossible. He was already parting my thighs, settling himself fully between them, and I moaned with his fingers found me.
“Ty,” I said, biting my lip to keep from crying out when his tongue found me, too. “Oh God… wait… Ty… did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” His voice was muffled by more than just the covers now.
“I thought I heard a door. Downstairs.”
Tyler’s head appeared as he threw the covers back, his head cocked, listening. I listened, too, hoping I hadn’t heard what I thought I had.
But now there were footsteps on the stairs.
“Jay.” I looked at Tyler, feeling my heart lurch in my chest.
“I thought she was spending the night at Sabrina and Rob’s?” He sat back on his heels, his gaze sweeping over me, completely naked on the bed, and I could almost read his thoughts.
“Something must have happened.” I swung my legs off the bed, reaching for my robe, which was draped across a chair. “Maybe she got sick? Oh crap, I bet that was Sabrina on the phone.”
“Come back.” Tyler groaned, his voice muffled in a pillow now.
“I’ll be right back.” I promised, smiling back at him over my shoulder. “She probably just ate too much junk food. I’ll get her some Pepto and tuck her in bed.”
“Then come back and tuck me in.” He rolled onto his side, propped up on his elbow. The covers fell across his hip and just looking at him made my mouth water.
“Promise,” I promised, slipping out into the hallway.
We’d put Jay in a room down at the end of the hall—far enough away that I could have loud, if not screaming, orgasms, but not so far we couldn’t hear her if she needed something. I saw her door shut and the light go on as I padded barefoot down the hall.
“Jay?” I called, knocking gently on the door. “Are you okay? Did you get sick?”
I waited for a response—I’d spent the week reading about teens, and “a sense of privacy” was apparently a big thing, and from my own not-so-distant teen years, I knew this was actually the case. I used to hate it when my mother would just walk into my room without knocking. Or, somehow even worse, knock briefly and then open the door without waiting for a response.
So I knocked again. “Jay? I just want to know you’re okay.”
“Go away!” Her voice was pillow-muffled. And it sounded like she’d been crying.
Crap.
“Jay… honey?” I cringed at my own invasion, but I turned the knob and eased the door open. “What is it?”
She was face-down on the bed, her hair in a long braid down her back—to keep it out of chubby, grasping baby-hands, I was sure—wearing a pair of her new jeans and a pretty, paisley peasant blouse. She was fifteen, but to me, she
“I guess I should get that, before we start the engines again.” I bit my lip, starting to slide across the mattress away from him.
“Oh no.” He grabbed my hip, keeping me close. “I’ve got four more orgasms to give you first.”
“First?” I laughed, trying to twist out of his grip. “But what if it’s an emergency.”
“Orgasm emergency, maybe.” He grinned, lifting the edge of the comforter and diving underneath it.
I squealed, back-pedaling toward the pillows, but he grabbed my legs, yanking me back under the covers.
“Ty!” I cried, trying to wiggle away, but he held me fast, nipping at my thighs, soothing the nibbles with his tongue, working his way up toward my sex. I was still swollen and starting to get a little sore, but the feel of him between my legs made my pussy start to throb.
“Mmmm more dessert,” he said, his voice muffled under the covers. “There’s always room for Katie.”
I laughed, squirming in his hold, knowing that fighting him was impossible. He was already parting my thighs, settling himself fully between them, and I moaned with his fingers found me.
“Ty,” I said, biting my lip to keep from crying out when his tongue found me, too. “Oh God… wait… Ty… did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” His voice was muffled by more than just the covers now.
“I thought I heard a door. Downstairs.”
Tyler’s head appeared as he threw the covers back, his head cocked, listening. I listened, too, hoping I hadn’t heard what I thought I had.
But now there were footsteps on the stairs.
“Jay.” I looked at Tyler, feeling my heart lurch in my chest.
“I thought she was spending the night at Sabrina and Rob’s?” He sat back on his heels, his gaze sweeping over me, completely naked on the bed, and I could almost read his thoughts.
“Something must have happened.” I swung my legs off the bed, reaching for my robe, which was draped across a chair. “Maybe she got sick? Oh crap, I bet that was Sabrina on the phone.”
“Come back.” Tyler groaned, his voice muffled in a pillow now.
“I’ll be right back.” I promised, smiling back at him over my shoulder. “She probably just ate too much junk food. I’ll get her some Pepto and tuck her in bed.”
“Then come back and tuck me in.” He rolled onto his side, propped up on his elbow. The covers fell across his hip and just looking at him made my mouth water.
“Promise,” I promised, slipping out into the hallway.
We’d put Jay in a room down at the end of the hall—far enough away that I could have loud, if not screaming, orgasms, but not so far we couldn’t hear her if she needed something. I saw her door shut and the light go on as I padded barefoot down the hall.
“Jay?” I called, knocking gently on the door. “Are you okay? Did you get sick?”
I waited for a response—I’d spent the week reading about teens, and “a sense of privacy” was apparently a big thing, and from my own not-so-distant teen years, I knew this was actually the case. I used to hate it when my mother would just walk into my room without knocking. Or, somehow even worse, knock briefly and then open the door without waiting for a response.
So I knocked again. “Jay? I just want to know you’re okay.”
“Go away!” Her voice was pillow-muffled. And it sounded like she’d been crying.
Crap.
“Jay… honey?” I cringed at my own invasion, but I turned the knob and eased the door open. “What is it?”
She was face-down on the bed, her hair in a long braid down her back—to keep it out of chubby, grasping baby-hands, I was sure—wearing a pair of her new jeans and a pretty, paisley peasant blouse. She was fifteen, but to me, she
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