Spark Read online

  Spark

  S.L. Scott

  S.L. SCOTT

  Contents

  Dedication

  Also by S.L. Scott

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  BONUS - PLEASE READ

  I. The Resistance

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Also by S.L. Scott

  A Personal Note

  Untitled

  - It only takes a spark to start a fire. -

  Copyright © 2018 by S.L. SCOTT

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Design: RBA Designs

  Photographer: Art-of-Photo

  Editing:

  Jenny Sims, Editing4Indies

  Marion Archer, Making Manuscripts

  Marla Esposito, Proofing Style

  Kristen Johnson, Proofreader

  Also by S.L. Scott

  To keep up to date with her writing and more, her website is www.slscottauthor.com

  To receive the Scott Scoop about all of her publishing adventures, free books, giveaways, steals and more, sign up here: http://bit.ly/2TheScoop

  Join S.L.’s Facebook group here: S.L. Scott Books

  The Crow Brothers

  Spark

  Tulsa

  Rivers

  Hard to Resist Series

  The Resistance

  The Reckoning

  The Redemption

  The Revolution

  The Rebellion

  The Kingwood Duet

  SAVAGE

  SAVIOR

  SACRED

  SOLACE

  Talk to Me Duet

  Sweet Talk

  Dirty Talk

  Welcome to Paradise Series

  Good Vibrations

  Good Intentions

  Good Sensations

  Happy Endings

  Welcome to Paradise Series

  From the Inside Out Series

  Scorned

  Jealousy

  Dylan

  Austin

  From the Inside Out Compilation

  Stand Alone Books

  Everest

  Missing Grace

  Until I Met You

  Drunk on Love

  Naturally, Charlie

  A Prior Engagement

  Lost in Translation

  Sleeping with Mr. Sexy

  Morning Glory

  Prologue

  Jet Crow

  Subtle scents of cinnamon mix with the taste of whiskey on her skin. I lick her from collarbone to the back of her ear, her moans enticing me to take more than a gentle share of what I want.

  I’m well past hooking up with groupies, but something drew me to the beautiful brunette. Under the bright spotlight of that stage, my eyes found hers as I sang about finding the missing piece of me. Maybe it was the way she pretended not to care—catching my eyes and then turning away as if she was too shy to come speak to me, but too good to be bothered. It didn’t matter. I was already caught up in her as much as she was caught up in me.

  The set ended, and I made my way over to the mystery woman, the one who hid in the dark of the bar just as two shots were served. I took the shot of Fireball and then took her home shortly after.

  Fuck. She feels good.

  Hard little body, but soft in all the right places. Tits that fill my large hands and legs that spread enough for me to squeeze between her thighs. I bet she wouldn’t reach my shoulders in heels. Speaking of, “Keep them on.”

  I like the feel of the leather against my lower back, the hard heel scraping across my skin when she tries to power play me by tightening around my waist and pulling me closer. I didn’t ask her to my bedroom. I didn’t have a chance. What started out as laughing while we shared a two a.m. snack of Cheetos, hummus, and whiskey turned into me eating her as a snack on top of my kitchen counter. I don’t ever do that with a one-nighter, but damn if she didn’t make me want to break more rules with her.

  She kisses me like a woman in need of water, taking as much as she wants while pressing her heels into my ass. The heat between us emanates until I’m dragging my shirt off to try to cool down.

  I knew she was different the moment she opened her mouth back at the bar. “You sing rock with so much soul. Who hurt you?”

  “No one gets close enough to do me any harm.”

  “That’s a pity.”

  “It’s a pity I’ve never been hurt?”

  “No, it’s a pity you’ve never loved anyone enough to get hurt.”

  My heart started beating for what felt like the first time as I looked into her sultry eyes. I could blame the booze, but I can’t lie to myself. She had me thinking twice about things I never considered once before.

  Who was this woman?

  Even with our stomachs full, we weren’t satisfied. She dragged me by the belt down the hall to my bedroom. Her clothes were off and mine quickly followed before we tumbled into bed.

  Fast. I want to fuck her fast and hard, but every time our eyes connect, there’s such sadness found in her grays that I slow down. Wanting her to hold the contact, I cup her cheek. “Hannah?”

  Her eyes slowly open, the long lashes framing the lust I find between them. “What?” she asks between heavy breaths.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Just making sure.”

  She runs her hands up my neck and into the hair on the back of my head. “I’m sure.” Pulling me down to her, our mouths are just a few inches apart when she whispers, “I want you. I want to do this.”

  Shy isn’t something I’d call her, considering we were in my bed two hours after meeting. I like a woman who knows what she wants, and Hannah knows. And fuck if it isn’t a turn-on that she wants me.

  I nod before kissing her, getting lost in the soft caresses of her tongue mingling with mine and the feel of her nails lightly scraping my scalp as she holds me close.

  We don’t know each other, but I already know when I slip my fingers under the lace and into her wetness, she purrs for me. When I kiss behind her left ear, her back arches. When I press my erection against her to seek relief, her kisses become more frenzied.

  When I slide my bare chest down hers, leaving a wet trail of kisses and taking the lace that divides us down as I go lower, her breath audibly catches. My body reacts—hardening for her, craving her.

  Reaching over, she takes the glass of whiskey on the nightstand and sips, her eyes staying on mine as I slip the thong from her ankles and spread her legs wider. And somehow, desire replaces her sadness. In the dim light, her gray eyes appear bluer. I close my eyes and breathe her in—cinnamon.

  She
hands me the glass, and I take it. Finishing the amber liquid, I let it coat my mouth and burn on the way down. The ice clatters in the glass, so I fish it out and let it roll around my tongue while she watches. Placing it between my lips, I run it between hers. Her fingers tighten in my hair, tugging, urging me for more. “You like that, baby?”

  “So much.”

  I crush the ice and swallow, ready to swallow her instead. I take her sweet pussy with my mouth, kissing and sucking until she’s squirming under me. I flick my gaze up and visually trace her breasts and then go higher to see the underside of her jaw as she presses her head into the pillow beneath her.

  Playing her body with my tongue like my fingers play my guitar, I set her on fire, feeling the burn deep inside. “I want to be buried inside you.”

  “I want that, Jet. I want you,” she says, her body sinking into the mattress as she comes back to me from the high.

  I grab a condom from where I tossed a few on the nightstand when we came crashing in here on a high of alcohol to continue what was started in the kitchen. Sticking the packet between my teeth, I rip it open and sit up.

  Hannah lifts on her elbows, eyeing my body unashamedly. “Three crows,” she says, eyeing my tattoos. “For three brothers.”

  “We all have them.”

  “They’re sexy on your bicep.” A wry grin appears. “How are you so fit if you drink every night?”

  Chuckling, I continue to cover my cock and reply, “I do a lot of damn sit-ups.”

  “Every last damn one you do is worth it.”

  “What’s your trick for staying in shape?” I ask, bending over and biting her hip just enough to tease her into thinking I’ll break the skin. I won’t, but I like the indentation from my teeth on her body.

  “I like to fuck.”

  Shit. “You’ve got a dirty mouth.”

  “Maybe Jet Crow’s just the one to help me clean it up.”

  Positioning myself above her, I angle my hips until I’m pressing against her entrance. “I have no intention of keeping this clean when it’s so much more fun to play dirty.”

  Lying back, her chest rises and falls heavy with each breath. Her words starting to stick to her throat when she speaks. “With that handsome face, I have no doubt you use your looks to get what you want.”

  “I know how to use more than my looks,” I start, pushing in just enough to feel her heat wash through me, “to get what I want.” I push the rest of the way when her thighs butterfly for me. Seated deep inside her body, I close my eyes, the warm sensations taking over. On instinct, I move, and she moans.

  I pick up my pace, but when I rise up on my elbows, I pause. Fuck. I shake my head.

  “What is it, Jet? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I’m quick to reply, hoping she doesn’t see how much she’s affecting me. What the fuck? I just met her, but when I close my eyes, it’s not just the high of good sex taking over my mind. Normally, I don’t pay a lot of attention to the body beneath me. Why should I? They only want me for one thing. But with Hannah? The girl with the haunted eyes? I want to erase the sadness. I want to replace her melancholy with other emotions.

  What. The. Fuck?

  Just fucking move.

  We have chemistry, but I want more than just a physical connection with this woman. I want to know why she was alone tonight. Why she was drinking shots at the bar? Why she ordered me one before she knew me? I just want to know her.

  Fucking move, Crow.

  I do. Finally. But it’s tainted with thoughts of tomorrow and hoping she stays tonight. Fuck.

  This is just sex. Sex. Just a good time. Focus.

  God, she feels amazing. Too good. “So good.”

  A warm hand caresses my cheek, and I open my eyes to find hers on me already. She smiles. “So good.” Lifting up, she kisses me, dragging me out of my head and into her world. Her mystery is an aphrodisiac, and I want to learn all her secrets. Will she let me into her mind? It’s a place I could lose myself forever in if I’m not careful.

  Hannah isn’t just another pretty face. She won me over the first time I saw her with that come-hither stare and devilish tilt of her lips.

  We exhaust ourselves, pouring my soul into hers while hers fills me. As I hold her in the aftermath of ecstasy, I whisper into her hair, “Stay.”

  Turning her head, there’s just enough light to see a flicker of happiness flaming in her eyes. “Ask me tomorrow,” she replies with a small teasing smile as she closes her eyes and snuggles her back to my chest.

  “I will.”

  I did. When her eyes open the next morning, I toss my cigarette out the window, lean forward, and ask her to stay. While she gets dressed, I tell her I want to know her mind as well as I know her body. I confess too much too soon, more than I have to anyone in years.

  She listened with a sly smile peeking through, her eyes brighter in the daylight, her worries seem to have lifted. When she kneels before me, she says, “You were the best time I ever had.”

  I’m tempted to tell her she’s my worst. I hate feeling this way—reliant. Somehow, I’ve kept my emotions in check, a lock without a key for years.

  Then she shows up with the right bow and shoulder, her cuts and tip fitting inside, the anatomy of a key made to unlock the deepest parts of me.

  My chance starts slipping away as she does. I offer her coffee, to make her breakfast, and then I offer her a ride back to her car downtown where she parked behind the small bar where we met. I offer her anything to keep her from leaving. I don’t offer my heart and I don’t beg, but I offer her what I can.

  The blue electric car surprises me. I mistakenly took her for a sports car or something less reliable and more rebellious. Her sexually carefree demeanor juxtaposed against her mysterious side fascinates me. Hearing the alarm click off and watching her open the car door, I know she’s different. I felt it last night; not just in the way we connected, but in the way she makes me feel. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

  “Maybe. I just moved here.”

  “I can show you around.”

  “I don’t have a lot of free time right now, so I don’t get out much.”

  Her jeans hug the curves of her hips, and I like the way she’d knotted my band’s shirt, causing it to hug her upper body and exposing the skin of her stomach. Those boots that rubbed against my ass last night look just as sexy on her today. “Well, if you do, maybe you can come see the band play again.”

  Just before she slides into the driver’s seat, she stops and looks back at me. Resting my elbow out the open window, I watch the sway of her hips as she comes back to me. Come back to me.

  She lifts up on her toes and kisses me, our tongues meeting slick against each other’s. Leaning back, she says, “I had a good time with you, Jet.” Lowering back on her heels, she looks disappointed, that sadness making her eyes gray again. I miss the fire of the blue.

  “I had a good time, too.”

  “My life is complicated. It’s really not even my own these days.”

  I’m pathetic for saying anything to get more time with her, but it’s worth a shot to explore our connection from last night. “Maybe I can help uncomplicate things.”

  “I wish you could. My cousin is sick, and I’m here to help her out. She needs me, but she also has a young son. His mom’s illness has taken a toll. I need to be there for him.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  When she touches me, I savor the feel of her nails trailing through my hair. For a foolish split second, I think she’s changed her mind, my chest feeling fuller as hope expands. Then the bubble bursts as she says, “If I get some free time, you’ll be the first person I look up.”

  “We could make it easy and exchange numbers.”

  “That comes with expectations, and I don’t want to hurt or disappoint you. If last night is all we get, it was pretty damn good.”

  “Yeah,” I reply, already disappointed I won’t know how to contact her. I sit back, take her hand,
and bring it to my lips. I kiss it once and then again, pressing the tip of my tongue to her skin. “Take care of yourself.”

  Maybe I don’t hide my feelings as well as I thought. Lifting up once more, she kisses my temple, then whispers, “The weather is too nice for such a sorrowful goodbye.”

  “Then let’s not say it at all.”

  Nodding, she pushes away gently and returns to her car, opens the door, and slips in. With one foot still firmly on the ground, she looks back. “Take care of yourself, Jet.”

  1

  Jet Crow

  Six Months Later . . .

  Some shows are better than others. It’s a little-known fact that we keep under wraps. No one needs to know when we screw up or miss a beat. Years ago, when the youngest Crow brother, Tulsa, played La Zona Rosa drunk, Rivers and myself covered. By adding more electric and heavy bass, we eventually drowned out any wrong chords.

  When Rivers broke a string just before debuting a new song where he played the solo, I traded guitars with him and played a four-string bass like it was made that way.

  I’ve had my fair share of fuckups, but sometimes, life throws you a bone, and it all seems to come together like the music was made to sound that way. My life has worked this way as well. So far.