Chapter 16: Bad Girls Scream--Radio Edit

This is the Radio Edit --a censored sex scene.

If you want the Album Cut (the full explicit love scene) you have to go to the companion work, called SOUNDCRUSH EXPLICIT and find the chapter URGENT Chapter 16: Bad Girls Scream--Explicit.

Got it? Good! Please don't forget to scroll through and vote on the radio edit, if you are heading over to the album cut! Thanks!

Mac

Now that I've started feeling, I can't stop.

I'm huddled in Adam's lap, my head on his shoulder. My breathe is jagged as I try to calm my crying, but I can't. The shaky sobs won't stop, and I don't want to stop the declarations pouring off my lips, murmured in the dark against Adam's throat.

"Adam, I...I...cccan't...stop. Only...only y—you do this to me. Only you...move me. It's always been...you. You make me feel—happy and sad, excited and scared, proud and angry. And so loved. And I love you, but it...it still freaks me out."

His strong fingers curl as he drags them slowly down my spine. I shiver.

"I know. I know exactly what you mean." He voice is choked with his own emotion. "You got me coming and going, girl. All the time. But I wouldn't have it any other way. I only feel really...alive, with you."

His words undo me, and I start to shake uncontrollably as everything I've stuffed for years flows. Adam squeezes me tight, pushing my face against his shoulder to muffle my cries. "Shhh, now. Just a second, shhh."

He presses the intercom button to talk to the driver. "Hey..."

"Harrison, sir," the driver supplies.

"Harrison, take us for a highway drive out of town. Doesn't matter which direction, but no interruptions, please. I'll let you know when we are ready to turn back."

"Understood, sir."

"Thank you."

He releases my head, but I keep my face pressed against his throat, still crying hard as I kiss upwards into the soft stubble just beneath his jaw. His hands continue their slow, steady massage of my back. I press my lips against the pulse in his throat—and the realization that I can feel his heart pounding, and it's just as wild and out of control as mine makes me sob even harder.

He groans and gently caresses the back of my neck.

"You're not going to stop crying, are you?" he murmurs against my temple.

I shake my head, unwilling to take my lips off his pulse. "Make me." I plead with a whisper.

He takes my head in both his hands and I've never felt anything more wonderful than when I completely surrender its weight and he rolls it back to meet his mouth. It's like he's never kissed me before. Our lips are so full of the all the tender words we just said—all the lovely terrifying raw emotions I never knew I wanted before, and I can't get enough of his mouth, his tongue, his taste. My hitching sobs ease as he gently claims my mouth like there's no hurry—like we never have to do anything ever again but love each other with lips.

I'm floating from the sheer bliss of Adam's tongue stroking mine, pushing over and under and away as he lazily explores deeper than I realized a kiss could be. It's like we are inside each other. Everywhere I touch him, I can feel the relentless rhythm of his  rushed heartbeat. Adam is better than any drink, any drug, any performance, any run, any high I've ever known.

The floaty feeling grows colors and my muscles relax. If Adam weren't holding my head so firmly, it would simply loll backwards.

Adam breaks the kiss with a gasp. "Mac? MacKenna?"

"Hmmmmmmm?" I can't seem to open my eyes. The colors swimming there are too pretty.

Adam pats my cheek lightly and chuckles. "Stay with me, girl."

I have a sudden need to breathe. I inhale sharply, and Adam's handsome, but mildly concerned face slowly comes into focus before me. I realize my eyes were open all along. "Oh Adam...I thought swooning was a made up thing," my own voice sounds softer than normal, and amazed. Then I giggle, and put a hand over my mouth, because I don't giggle.

"Well, at least I stopped you from crying." He sounds extremely satisfied with himself.

I'm stroking the soft, sexy stubble on his gorgeous jaw, reveling in the fact that we can look each other in the eye without the guardedness I always put there.

He's smiling at me, but the smile fades as his skillful fingers slide around to gently brush my throat. Hurt swirls into his deep blue eyes as  lightly—so lightly—marks out all the places that were once implanted with another man's bruises. It's like he knows exactly where the bruises were. Suddenly I realize—of course he knows. He loves me—he loved me then. He probably has the police pictures burned into his brain.

"Just wanna love you right, MacKenna," he murmurs, licking and sucking softly where each fingerprint had been. "Protect you. Take good care of you."

I love him all the more for that—for sharing his pain and his need to protect me without bringing back any of the bad stuff for me.

I never wanted to be shielded by a man. I never trusted anyone else—not even Leed—with the job. I protected myself with a wall.

With Adam making love to my old wounds, I realize, that wall is so unnecessary. At least with Adam. At least in this moment.

"Preacher?" I say it with reverence, not venom this time, and I know Adam hears the difference because I feel his lips turn up in a smile against my throat.

"Hmmm?" he asks.  His vibrating murmur just beneath my ear thrills.

"Take me to church," I whisper and he laughs. The rumble makes me shudder in delight.

"Yes ma'am," he says sweetly.

I'm sad as his lips leave my throat, but soon his hands begin to make up for it.

I'm still on his lap, my legs cast sideways in the  back seat of this stretch SUV limo. As Adam begins to slowly untie the pink laces of my platform boots, I tear my eyes from his handsome face and cast around the interior of the limo. It's been a long time since I paid attention to the details like the inside of a limo. I want to remember it.

There is a long bar/media console on the right. The long leather couch flows from the back where we sit along the left length. All the windows are darkened and the leather glows purplish grey from the pinck and purple LED lights in the headliner of the interior. It's pretty in here, as far as limos go. I like that.

Even though Adam and I have had sex many, many times...this is special. A first, of sorts...I'm pretty sure we are together now. So it's the first time in our new, scary, strange and wonderful relationship.

Actually, it is another kind of first for me...I've had a lot of sex in a lot of places—even in a Green Room where someone could—and thankfully did—walk in, but for some reason...I've never had sex in a limo. I always held the fanboys off until the hotel. It felt too weird—doing that with a stranger, a fanboy—with my security guy a few feet away in the front seat.

He's got one boot off now, diligently working the other. I run my fingers through the longish part of his hair—the top part, and it falls adorably in a curve against his cheek. "Adam?"

"Hmmm?" He pulls my other boot off and drops it with a thud as he meets my eyes.

"Have you ever had sex in a limo before?" I ask softly.

He blinks, and wets his lips, and I feel a pang of disappointment. I see the truth plain of his face.

That's a yes.

He strokes my cheek. "I've never said I love you in a limo. I've never made love in a limo. Anywhere and everywhere I'm going to make love to you from now on is going to be a first, Mac. The love going both ways makes us something brand new, Sweetheart."

I smile and wrap my arms around his neck. He said exactly what I was feeling, but it sounds so good to me in his words. "Oooh, I like that. You're really good at this sappy stuff, Adam. Sorry I've always given you such shit about it."

His sexy lips curl in a grin. "Thanks. I see you've recovered yourself somewhat."

"I'll probably come apart again when you put yourself inside me," I whisper, and he growls.

"In more ways than one," he assures me. He slides off my heavy sequined shrug slowly, kissing my shoulder as he folds it and puts it in the seat beside me. He slides down one bra strap, then the other, nudging a finger down my cleavage inside the bra cups.

"It drives me crazy when you don't wear a shirt in public," he confesses. "I had to fight the urge to take off my shirt and cover you up all night."

"I know, that's why I wore this," I smirk. I'm slowly unbuttoning his charcoal gray button-down.

"You are so evil," he growls.

"How about I save the super sexy scraps for official appearances, from now on? If we go out together in our own time, I'll at least wear...most of an outfit," I suggest.

"You can wear what you want, Shorty, but if another man puts his hands on you now that we are really together...that I can't handle." He unfastens the hooks on my bra back with the practiced skill of a man who has disrobed women, many many times. He pulls the bra away and sinks back against the seat to admire.

I pull his hands to my breasts and put mine on top. The heat, the callouses, the gentle squeeze of his fingers...I feel myself go slick below—all at once. "Only your hands. You can use them anyway you want. Adam...I mean that."

"What I want tonight is to worship each other in all the really goods ways."

I slide off his lap onto my knees and remove his shirt, laying it aside. This careful, slow undressing of each other is so fucking hot. My lower belly is rock hard, clenched in anticipation of Adam's love. Adam unbuckles my tiny jean shorts and scoops his hand down front.

The sounds we make...my small cry and his groan, sound like a perfect harmony.

Finally, finally, finally, we are both naked. Before I can fully admire Adam, the limo travels onto a bridge, the steady thump of the road sections reminding me suddenly that we are having sex in a car with two men up front who know exactly what we are doing. I cast a hesitant glance toward the driver's seat.

Adam wraps his arms around me pulls me against him. "Hey, look at me, not up there. There's only you and me."

I melt against his hard chest.

We make love long and slow. Our eyes are locked as intensely as our sex, our hands gliding over each other's sweat slick chests and stomachs.

"Do you feel me?" he murmurs.

"So good. So right," I assure him.

"Jesus, MacKenna. I fucking love you," he closes his eyes for a moment, lost in our pleasure and overwhelmed with his emotion, but I put my hands on his face.

"Hey. Stay with me, boy."

When he opens his eyes, I can see he's giving me everything he's always held back for fear I would flee. I feel his love, his strength, his conviction, his purity.

"This is all I want from life. All I need," his voice is deep, sure.

"To be inside me?" I tease, but I can hardly speak now, my orgasm is coming on so slow and powerfully.

"To be inside of us...of the love we make," he corrects me.

We never take our eyes off each again. I keep my feet planted on the floor, so I can rise strong to his steady rhythm, taking him as deep as I can possibly get him. I can feel my brain fading to white and euphoria rushing down through every ecstatic cell of my body that is in love with this man.

"Adam. Oh Adam. I love you. Adam. Adam!"

I wrap my arms and legs around his powerful torso as my orgasm rolls over me, shattering and seemingly endless. I become vaguely aware that I'm letting out a long wail of a scream. It's that powerful.

Adam is groaning and cursing somewhere between the madness of holding off and the edge of his own ecstasy, and the difficulty of trying to muffle my scream by pressing my face against his shoulder. Finally, all my limbs release at once and I fall limp beneath him. He pulls out, his eyes never leaving mine as they go wild. He pumps himself and spills outside of me, and I moan in satisfaction at the proof of his pleasure. His expression of complete amazement and love is one I'll never forget.

He rises on his knees over me, panting, while I lay limp beneath him, my breath just as labored. "Come here," I murmur, trying to pull him to me. I'm shivering.

His body covers mine and then his mouth finds mine too. He pulls us to our sides, pressing us together, sharing his warmth as he kisses me lazily. After a while, he stops, and lies very still, with his eyes closed.

I play with his lips, his stubble, his nose, the divot in his chin, his Adam's apple, his collarbone—without rhythm, without melody, like a child with their toy keyboard. I want him to make love to me again as soon as possible.

His embrace is unrelenting but his eyes are closed, his face serene. He's perfectly content to let me annoy him with my wandering fingers.

He knows I'm trying to entice him to more sex, but he's not on board. He opens one eye and shakes his head slightly at me. "We can't make John and Harrison ride all night just for our pleasure," he reminds me. "We need to take it to the hotel before round 2."

I make a sound of disappointment and he laughs.

"I am so obsessed with you right now, Adam." I confess. "It's scary, how you are all I want."

He nods agreeably. "Yeah. Love is intense, when you let yourself feel it." He organizes the colored locks of my hair on my shoulder—orange, blue, green. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get raging pissed off at me again, soon enough."

I shrug. "Maybe. I dunno. But if I do—Adam—I'll still love you." I have a sudden urge to rub my face all over his stubble. I stroke myself like a cat against his rough short beard.

He laughs heartily. "You are getting far too sweet. I might have to bring that ring out again—"

"Fuck no," I purr as I rake my lips raw over his jaw. "This time I'll throw the goddamn thing off the balcony."

"There's my Shorty," he sits up and pulls our clothes to us, helping me put them on as sweetly as he took them off.

I don't why I was so afraid of loving Adam. I hope I don't remember anytime soon.