Sinful Ever After (Sinful Serenade #5) Read online

  Sinful Ever After

  A Sinful Serenade Sequel

  Crystal Kaswell

  Sinful Serenade

  Sing Your Heart Out - Miles

  Strum Your Heart Out - Drew

  Rock Your Heart Out - Tom

  Play Your Heart Out - Pete

  Sinful Ever After

  Author's Note

  Dear readers, thank you for sticking with the Sinful Serenade series though the last four books. I love these guys to pieces. I hope you love them as much as I do :)

  Sinful Ever After is a sequel to the first four books in the Sinful Serenade series and it should be read after book four (Pete's book, Play Your Heart Out). It is not a standalone novel.

  This is the last Sinful Serenade book, but don't dismay. It's not the last of the Sinful Guys! Miles, Drew, Tom, and Pete will be appearing in spin-off series Dangerous Noise. The first Dangerous Noise book, featuring guitarist Ethan and his heroine Violet, will be out later this year. Its working title is Dangerous Kiss

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Author's Note

  Sing Forever Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Strum Forever Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Rock Forever Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Play Forever Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Notes on Sinful Serenade

  Acknowledgments

  For every boy or girl who ever stepped on stage and sang, strum, rocked, or played his heart out.

  Sing Forever

  Chapter One

  Megara

  That can't be him. It must be a mirage. There's no way Miles is standing in front of the bio building, his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, his lips curled into a smile.

  I must be imagining things.

  He's supposed to be in Tokyo. Or was it Osaka? It's hard to remember your boyfriend's schedule when he's a globe-jetting rock star.

  His blue eyes fix on me.

  That's him.

  That's really him.

  "You survived your first semester of medical school." Miles slides his arms around me.

  His arms are heaven. I grab onto his waist as tightly as I would if I were on the back of his bike. Miles is here. My boyfriend is here. We have the next four weeks to be together before I'm due back for Spring semester.

  His hand curls around my cheek. "I missed you."

  "I missed you more."

  He presses his lips to mine.

  He tastes so fucking good.

  I dig my hands into his leather jacket. It's too slick for me to get a grip, so I tug at his soft t-shirt. He's here. He's not in Asia. He's at UCI Medical School, with his arms around me, with his lips against mine.

  I slide my hands under his t-shirt and soak in the warmth of his skin. "You're supposed to be in Japan. Didn't you have a show?"

  "In Osaka." He pulls me closer. "Encore was fourteen hours ago."

  "You flew straight here?"

  He slides his hand around my neck. His voice is light, teasing. "You catch on fast."

  I flip him off. It only makes my smile wider. At the moment, it doesn't feel like I'm ever going to stop smiling. "Give me a break. I've only slept ten hours in the last week."

  He smiles back. "Good thing I'm planning on spending the next two weeks in bed."

  I nod and look up at him. I'm nearly six feet tall, but Miles is still two inches taller. "I can't believe you're here."

  I haven't seen him in a month. Twenty-nine days, to be exact. His band, Sinful Serenade, has been on an international tour. This was the first tour where neither one of us could visit.

  It's the longest we've been apart.

  It's been awful.

  Miles spends four or five months a year on the road. I should be used to it by now, but I'm not. Every time he's away, I miss him more than the time before. Every time, he feels farther away.

  I missed him so much.

  My knees falter as I sink into his body. I'm too tired to move. But it's okay. He's got me.

  He pulls me closer. His lips hover over my ear. "How is it that none of your classmates recognize me?"

  I nestle into his chest. "Do you want me to scream 'Oh My God, are you really Miles Webb? I love that one song you do, No Way in Hell.'" I offer my best schoolgirl giggle. "Is it really about falling in love?"

  "I want you to scream." He sucks on my earlobe. "But only the Miles part, and only once we're alone." His hands go to mine. "You have any energy left?"

  "Enough for a proper reunion."

  He laughs. "I'm not sure you do." He squeezes me one more time then he steps back. He nods follow me.

  I take a shaky step. Miles has a point. I can barely walk. I'm not sure I have the energy to fuck his brains out the way I want to.

  His expression is a mix of amusement and concern. "I'm taking you somewhere. We can go to bed after that."

  "Which kind of to bed?"

  Miles laughs. His piercing blue eyes shine in the sunlight. "The kind where you come until you can't take it anymore."

  ***

  I aspire to make conversation, but my lids are heavy. I close my eyes, rest my head against the window, and drift in and out of sleep.

  Miles squeezes my hand. "You're exhausted, aren't you?"

  I nod.

  "Was thinking about taking you to a hotel in Beverly Hills and fucking you against the wall."

  "You were not. You're teasing."

  "I was thinking about it." He smiles. "Wasn't a plan yet, but it occupied a lot of space in my thoughts."

  "It's been twenty-nine days."

  "I've been counting."

  "I think you're as responsible for my hand cramps as finals are."

  He laughs. "For once, I beat school."

  "Miles, it's been twenty-nine days."

  "It has."

  "And we aren't having sex right now."

  "Better change that soon." He squeezes my hand.

  I squeeze back. He rubs the space between my thumb and my pointer finger with his thumb. It's sweet, intimate. He's really here. We're really in the same space together.

  And I'm really exhausted.

  My hands go to the zipper of my hoodie. I have a surprise for hi
m, but I'm terrified to reveal it. This is serious, forever, the next level of commitment.

  It's been a year, but we haven't talked much about forever. A while back, he asked about getting married. I said I wanted to wait until I was done with my first year of medical school, and that was it. We haven't talked about anything since.

  We haven't even discussed getting a place together. I stay with my parents during the week—they live twenty minutes from campus—and with Miles on the weekends. His place is nearly two hours from school, depending on the traffic.

  The zipper is cool against my skin. I pull it down an inch, but I can't will myself to pull it down any more.

  Soon. I need to do it the first chance I get. Before the sex. I don't want him getting derailed when we finally get out of our clothes.

  It's been way too long.

  Miles changes lanes and exits the freeway. He pulls onto a familiar street. We've been here before. Together.

  Oh.

  There's a cemetery on our left—the cemetery where his uncle is buried.

  It's a strange choice for a celebration, but it's perfect.

  Miles parks and helps me out of the car. He slides one arm around my waist.

  His eyes go to the ground. Is he actually bashful? I'm not sure I've ever seen him bashful before.

  "You don't have to explain," I say.

  "Sure you don't want a celebration with champagne on the beach?" He leads me through the wrought iron gates.

  "Neither one of us drinks."

  "Sparkling apple cider."

  "I don't like sparkling apple cider."

  "What if I'm licking it off your tits?"

  "Then you're the one drinking it."

  He laughs and squeezes my hand.

  The shining sun casts a glow over the vivid green grass. The world is alive today. Except for the mild chill in the air, there are no signs of winter here. The sky is bright blue and free of clouds. The air is somewhere between crisp and warm.

  I follow Miles to his uncle's grave. Damon Webb. Father. Uncle. Friend.

  Miles's eyes fix on mine. "You remember what I said about Damon?"

  "How he'd sit you down and tell you to stop running from your feelings?"

  "Yeah. I always have a lot of time to think when we're on the road. That's how it started, me taking drugs. I needed a way to shut out my thoughts." He runs his fingers through my hair.

  "I know." I lean into his touch. "Everyone runs sometimes."

  "You don't. You never did."

  "Yes, I did. Just I used school instead of drugs." I stare into his clear blue eyes. I don't want to run from my feelings either. I'm scared of the constant separation, but I love Miles more than anything. I want forever with him.

  I want him to see the evidence of our forever.

  Here goes nothing. I press my lips together. "I have to show you something."

  "Let me go first." He presses his palm into my lower back. "Okay?"

  I nod.

  "This tour, it felt like we were traveling twenty hours a day. I had a lot of time to myself. Mostly, I thought about you. About us having a life together. About how much brighter my life is than it was before I met you. Used to be the only thing that soothed me was writing a song or stepping on stage. But you..." He stares back at me. "I know I promised to wait until you finished your first year of med school, but I have to do this now. I have to do it here." Miles lowers himself onto his knee.

  He... he's really doing this.

  He pulls a ring box from his jeans and flips it open. "Megara Smart, will you marry me?"

  Chapter Two

  Miles

  Meg's brown eyes go wide. Her fingers go to her soft, pink lips. She stares at me like she's in shock.

  Usually, I know how to work an audience, but right now, I'm too nervous to have a clue. The sound of my heartbeat is drowning out my thoughts.

  Is that oh my God, yes? or oh hell, no? I know she loves me, but she's young. School comes first. It should. I love how ambitious she is.

  None of that makes waiting easier. I've done a lot in my life, had just about everything a guy could want. Nothing—not platinum albums, or Grammies, or ten thousand fans screaming my name—compares to Meg.

  Her eyes soften. Surprise fades to joy. Her lip corners turn upward. "You're asking in front of your uncle."

  I swallow hard. Fuck. I can't remember the last time I was speechless. A nod is all I can manage.

  "That's sweet." Her smile spreads to her ears.

  "He would have loved you."

  "Really?"

  "Really." He would have adored her. Especially the way she gives me shit. And the way she doesn't take my shit. And those gorgeous brown eyes of hers. That vibrant smile. The way she laughs with her entire body.

  "Why?" she asks.

  Where the hell do I start? "You make me better. Stronger."

  "You have it backward. You make me better. You make me stronger."

  My smile widens. Still, my stomach and chest are floating. Fucking nerves. Stage fright has nothing on marriage proposals.

  "You're supposed to answer," I tease. "But I am willing to kneel here all afternoon."

  "You can't kneel here all afternoon. I need you on your knees later."

  I melt. I'm asking her to marry me, and she's replying with a sex joke.

  She's perfect.

  Her voice drops to a whisper. "Yes. Of course."

  She's smiling. Her brown eyes are bright.

  She's not just happy. She's ecstatic.

  My entire body goes light. I slide the ring onto her finger.

  "Is this really happening?" She stares at the ring. Her eyes fill with wonder then they're back on me. "It's huge."

  "We both know you can take huge."

  She laughs as she traces the outline of the stone.

  I want to feel every ounce of her joy. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a deep kiss.

  "Miles," she murmurs. "Your uncle will see."

  Her hands go to my hair. She pulls me closer. Her lips part to make way for my tongue.

  I know her body, know how to make her needy. I drag my fingertips up her thigh until she's groaning into my mouth. She arches her body into mine, spurring me on.

  She sighs as she pulls back. "Not in front of Damon."

  "Why not?"

  "Miles!" She squeals. "I don't want him to think I'm a tramp."

  "He wasn't 85, Princess." I call her by her Star Wars nickname. Last Halloween, she dressed as Princess Leia. I knew she would, so I dressed as Han Solo. I've been calling her Princess ever since. It used to annoy her, but now it makes her smile. "He didn't think anybody was a tramp."

  She flips me off playfully then looks at the tombstone. "I love your nephew—"

  "He adopted me."

  She nods. "I love your son more than anything. I'm sorry we couldn't meet. I'll try to take good care of him."

  I pull her into a tight hug.

  Relief floods my limbs. I fucking missed her.

  Meg presses her lips against mine with a hungry kiss. We have a lot of time to make up for, but she's clearly exhausted. I can't fuck her the way she deserves to be fucked. Hell, it's not just what she wants. I haven't gone twenty-nine days without sex since I started having sex.

  I need to be deep inside her. I need her nails raking across my back, her limbs shaking as she comes.

  I need her coming again and again.

  My lips press together. I fucking miss the taste of her. Especially the way her thighs press against my cheeks as she comes on my tongue.

  Now to find a spot private enough that I can peel her jeans to her feet, slide between her legs, and lick her until she's screaming my name.

  "I have to show you something," she murmurs. Her fingers dig into my shoulders.

  She's close to falling asleep in my arms. This will have to wait until we're in a proper bed. I'm not about to go easy on her. Not for anything.

  "Miles." Her fingers find the bare skin of
my chest. She pulls my t-shirt aside and traces the lines of my tattoo.

  Her lips part with a sigh of desire. A lot of women have ogled me, but none do it the way Meg does, with this mix of need, lust, love, and appreciation.

  No one knows me the way she does. Damon is the only other person who ever saw me, all of me.

  She takes a half-step backward.

  Her eyes fill with vulnerability. Even now, after a year, it's rare that she has her guard this low.

  Slowly, she pulls the zipper of her hoodie to her waist. Her hands go to her chest, covering her cleavage.

  Huh? Meg isn't shy about her breasts. She knows how much I appreciate them. In fact, there's no one in the parking lot. I should take her there and suck on her nipples until she's purring my name.

  Her eyes turn down. Her cheeks flush.

  She's nervous.

  "I... I did this last weekend." Her cheeks turn even more red. "Damn. This is scary. How do you strip on stage every night?"

  "I know my strong suit."

  She smiles, but it's quickly replaced by a nervous look. Slowly, she peels one hand off her chest. The other goes to the strap of her tank top and pulls it aside.

  My exhale sucks up every drop of breath in my body.

  There's ink on her chest. Three little words: Be Brave, Love.

  The song I wrote for her, to tell her I loved her.

  The song she begged me not to write.

  A mirror of the tattoo I got for my uncle. Same place on her chest. Same font.

  "I don't know that I've ever seen you speechless." Her voice lifts until it's confident. "I should get more tattoos."

  My hand goes to her skin. I trace the lines with my fingers. My words are on her body. This connection between us is on her body.

  It's forever.

  The ink curves over the swell of her breast. It's outside her bra. It will be on display whenever she wears something low-cut.

  I'll see it every time I get her naked.

  I need her naked immediately.

  "Let's go." I slide my hands to her waist. Again, I pull her body into mine. "I need to be inside you."

  She laughs. "I'm holding the cards."

  "You're always holding the cards."

  She shakes her head. "No. I'm not. But right now, I have you exactly where I want you." She slides her hand over the neckline of my t-shirt. "It's intoxicating. Is this why you're obnoxious twenty-four seven?"