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Page 21


  I chuckle as the clink of mugs echoes from the kitchen. “It is.”

  “Epic.” His head rolls toward me, his smile lazy. “Morning.”

  “You know, Emery’s a bit of a liar,” I tease.

  “Why?” His brow pinches, hands tucked beneath his head.

  “Because he said you’d be a grumpy fucker when you woke up.”

  The genuine laugh that I’m gifted with is pure magic after last night. “I normally am. But I don’t usually wake up beside you, so there’s that.”

  “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

  “You should.” His smile fades, the look he gives me pure hunger. “Do we have to get out of bed today?”

  I shrug. He did say they don’t need to leave until tonight. “Not for a while, I think.”

  “Perfect.”

  My skin heats when he runs a hand through my hair, brushing it off my face. This man’s touch… it’s not something to be taken lightly. When a person is as guarded as he is, when they struggle with so much on the inside, a show of affection as simple as the caress of his fingers around the shell of my ear—it’s a gift.

  “The door’s open,” I whisper.

  “Your point is?” He pushes forward to close the space between us, teasing my lips with his own.

  I soften against him, addicted already to the heady shiver his kiss incites. Only this time Rey doesn’t stop there. He shuffles closer, tilting his head so that he can intensify the contact, his tongue teasing mine in a gentle caress. He takes his time, as though he’s concerned that I’ll spook if he rushes things. And I guess in a way I might. But this reverence, the look of sheer admiration as he pulls away to ease himself over me.

  I feel loved.

  I think he was right.

  “I’ll just, ah, close this and leave them on the table out here.”

  Both Rey and I turn our heads to find Emery juggling both mugs in one hand while he pulls the door shut with the other.

  “Is he always so good to you?” I say with a slight laugh.

  Rey’s smile is lazy as he drops his head. “Only when he’s been laid.”

  “Oh my God.” I groan, totally not needing to know that. “Way too much information.”

  “Hey. Just you be glad he didn’t do it in front of you. Word of warning: Em has no sense of shame when it comes to… that.” He cocks his head as he says it.

  “Anyway.”

  “Anyway,” he mimics with a smile.

  “Where were we?” I set my hands against his ribs, acutely aware of how hard my heart beats as I run them toward his shoulders.

  I’m not normally this bold. But then again, everything about this is new.

  “I do believe you were convincing me why I should stay in bed this morning.” My eyes slip closed as Rey runs his nose up mine, finishing with a gentle kiss to my forehead. “You can pick up where you left off anytime you like,” he deadpans.

  I dissolve into giggles, before the contrast of this moment steals my breath.

  I’m so lost in his touch, so enveloped by the moment that I completely forgot where we were not even twelve hours ago.

  “Don’t slip away from me, kitty.”

  I snap out of my musing to find him searching my eyes with a frown.

  “Where did you go?”

  “Somewhere with you,” I answer honestly. “Although I like this place better.”

  “Then stay here.” He doesn’t need to say any more; he gets it. I can see it in the worry that flashes in his eyes, and in the way he runs his bottom lip between his teeth.

  He was there for a fleeting second, too.

  “What happens after?” I whisper. “When the tour ends?”

  Rey’s jaw sets tight as he sighs. “Can we talk about that another time?”

  “I guess.”

  His eyes close briefly, a frown marring his features. “It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it, babe, it’s just….” He rocks his hips into me with an apologetic smile.

  Oh. Shit. Of course.

  “Can we be quiet for a bit? Just enjoy this?”

  I push my fingers into his hair, tugging his face to mine as I murmur, “I think so.”

  If you’d asked me a month ago what I thought an encounter with a guy like this would have been like, I would have delivered some line about how rock stars all think they’re God’s gift to women, and that my money would have been on him being the hit it and quit it type of guy.

  Consider me schooled.

  Rey’s modus operandi is a slow, deliberate exploration of my body as he kisses his way from my mouth—my lips left bruised—down my throat to my chest. His breath skims over my hyperaware skin, teasing me with the gentle gust that heightens my senses to the point of near pain.

  I’m literally arching my back to get closer, desperate for him to rev this up. Yet he doesn’t.

  With a wicked smile he shifts lower, eliciting a whimper from my throat that takes me by surprise. What is this man doing to me?

  “So impatient,” he teases as his hands find the hem of my tank.

  He shuffles his elbows where they’re propped on the bed so that he can push the material higher. I lift up, more than eager to help him strip me down. At this point, I’m on the brink of shoving him off so I can take the reins.

  I need more, and I need it now.

  I bring my arms together, ready for him to guide the tank off over my head, yet he chooses not to. Instead, his rough hand, calloused from the guitar, brushes over my breast, the hem of my top wedged between his fingers. He watches me with a wolfish grin as he leaves the material bunched at my throat and runs his hand back down my body, lower, closer, skimming the line between foreplay and something more.

  Something I need if I’m to survive.

  “Please.…” I close my eyes, ashamed at how desperate I am. Desperate enough to throw my dignity aside and beg, that’s for sure.

  “Please, what?” His words caress my stomach, the hot gusts of his breath doubling the heat I already possess.

  “Whatever you want,” I moan. “Just, please.”

  The satisfied rumble from his chest leaves me breathless, my bottom lip pinched between my teeth as I count the seconds until he does it. He has to do it. Oh fuck, he’s doing it.

  My pajama shorts are ripped down my legs with enough force to pull me with them, the material barely getting enough time to hit the floor before he thrusts his hands beneath my ass and lifts my hips. I’m sure the rest of the band hear my relief when Rey’s mouth meets my pussy, the groan I let loose deafening in the otherwise quiet room.

  I thought that tongue was a master at delivering a song, yet his talent as a singer couldn’t hold a candle to this.

  Holy shit. The bedding crumples in my fists, the whimpers that come from me muted by the fact I bite my bottom lip hard enough to leave imprints. My legs are jelly. His hands are literally all that hold me up as he tastes and teases.

  Waiting was everything. We could have done this last night. Damn, if he had I could be as loud as I want. But the buildup to this, the tension, the need.

  There’s something to be said for taking things slow.

  Although two weeks from strangers to this is hardly slow, by my measure.

  “God, I can’t.…” I want to.

  One word, “Come,” mumbled against me before he takes me over the edge with an added finger.

  It’s all he has to say.

  I’m fucking certain the guys out there heard me now.

  Pleasure surges through me in a wave of blissful prickles. The sort of tingle you feel as your limbs come back from complete numbness.

  Which is exactly what he’s done: he’s woken the parts of me that have been asleep for so long.

  My breaths come fast and shallow as he sets me down, rearing back on his folded legs to run a palm over his mouth and chin. The smile that’s revealed after he drops his hand?

  God.

  I think I just fell in love too.

  FORTY-ONEr />
  Rey

  “Stillborn” – Black Label Society

  The next hotel we unload at is nowhere near as posh as the last. Tabby loves it. Says it makes her feel more at home. I told her she’s what makes it feel like home. I then promptly vomited in my mouth a little at how much of a fucking pansy-ass sissy I’ve become because of her.

  Who the fuck is this guy? It’s a new type of low after the high. A strange one.

  I still loathe everything about myself; can’t stand seeing my image reflected back at me. But I’m calm.

  I’m relaxed.

  And that’s totally all on her.

  “Everyone paying attention while I go through this one last time?” Rick asks as he leans his hip against the back of a dining chair.

  The band all nod where we’re seated at a round glass table. Toby drinks his habitual bourbon-spiked afternoon coffee, while Kris listens to Rick with one ear, the set list playing in the other.

  I nod, paying attention to Rick, but my focus is on Tabby as she kicks back on the sofa.

  “We’ve got the radio interview in an hour,” Rick details, “and then you’ve got two small pieces with some local TV shows. Toby and Emery, you get one. Rey and Kris, you get the other. After that you’re doing a run through with the sound guys, and then if it all goes to plan, you get a hour to unwind backstage before the show kicks off.”

  “Any other news for me?” My hands mask my question so that Tabby doesn’t hear, fingers laced before my mouth as I lean my elbows on the table.

  Rick’s gaze shoots to the girl in question before he returns his attention to me with a shake of his head. “Not looking good. All recent events considered.”

  Damn it. I glance at Toby, catching his eye. He gives me a shrug, and then chugs the last of his coffee. He’s the only one in the band that knows my plan, knows what I try to do for her.

  I’ve set my pride aside and damn near begged Wallace, via Rick, to let Tabby play for us again. I even said I’d go to rehab without a fuss if he cut her in.

  Asshole isn’t having a bar of it. Which at least is predictable. It’s more than I can say for the rest of the band.

  The three of them have been strange today. Strangely kind. After the bust up preshow the other day, and then our falling out about the interviews after, I expected a little more tension between the four of us.

  Instead, Emery makes Tabby and me coffee, Kris does my fucking washing with his, and Toby… well, he hasn’t tried to kill me again. Also hasn’t tried to talk to me one-on-one.

  Kind of feels like the calm before the storm. They’re a bunch of farmers fattening up the sacrificial cow before I’m sold off for the last time.

  Makes me wonder if Rick knows something that I don’t. I give the guy the once-over as he stands at the end of the table, absorbed in his fucking phone as usual. He seems normal, I guess. Not sweating bullets anyway, and if there was anything I should be worried about, he’d be the first giveaway.

  “I’m out to get another one of these lifesavers,” Toby announces as he lifts his empty coffee cup. “Anyone else want one?”

  “I might come for a walk too, if that’s okay?”

  Five heads turn Tabby’s way. She looks at each of us in turn, eyes wide as though to ask what the issue is.

  I guess we’re not used to company of the female kind on tour. At least, not the kind that doesn’t fawn all over us and recite facts they’ve read from the shit published online as though each correct one scores them higher on the get-in-my-pants stakes.

  “I’ll come too.” I push out from the table as Toby grimaces.

  “Great. Right family outing, huh?”

  He matches my cool stare as I make my way to Tabby. Fucker knows how to hold a grudge, that’s for sure.

  “If you’ve got other things you need to do, I don’t mind going with him alone.”

  I take her face in my hands and lay one on her. It’s becoming pretty damn apparent I can’t get enough of kissing this girl. “I’ll come too.”

  Emery clears his throat behind us; the look on Rick’s face is fucking priceless. You’d think I just announced that I’m taking an oath of sobriety, with the way he seems shocked. As far as he knew, I asked Tabby here for her musical prowess only, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.

  “What?” I take a step toward him, eyes narrowed just to fuck with the guy.

  “Nothing.” He backs up, hands raised. “I’ll wait for you here. We’ll head out after you get back.”

  “Come on.” Toby rushes for the door, shrugging his coat high around his vibrant hair. “We haven’t got time to fuck around.”

  The walk to the coffee shop creates enough tension to rival Toby’s snare. Tabby inserts herself between us as we head out the hotel entrance, seeming to feel the need to do so to defuse the situation.

  “So.” She looks between the two of us with a tight-lipped smile. “You guys nervous about the new album going live?”

  Kitty, kitty, kitty.… Bless her heart, but small talk doesn’t crack my stubborn-ass brother.

  “A little,” Toby answers. “You must know what it’s like when you share a new piece; the worry that you won’t measure up to what you’ve produced before.”

  Fuck me gently… she’s done it. She split the stone wall that is Toby.

  “Totally.” Tabby smiles, her whole fucking face lighting up as she engages in conversation with my brother.

  I watch the two of them interact as we make our way down the street to the nearest Starbucks. She has him wrapped around her little finger, pulling smiles and laughs from him without seeming to even try.

  I hate it.

  I thought that she only made me feel like that. I thought that charm of hers was for me alone. But the realization that she treats everyone the same way? It burns a little.

  Fuck it. Okay. A lot.

  Maybe I’m not as special to her as I thought?

  “What are you having?” I rip her from the inane conversation they’re in about childhood pets—how you go from music to that in the space of five minutes, I don’t even know.

  “One of those, I think.” She points to a sign displaying a limited time frap deal. “But I can get it.”

  “Doesn’t mean you have to.” I step up to the counter to order, adding Toby’s usual to the tail end.

  Olive branch and all that shit. A coffee today, and maybe he’ll have a beer with me tomorrow.

  “Rey Thomas.”

  Fuck.

  “And Toby. Holy shit.” The short little guy to my right pushes up on his toes to call out across the entire fucking shop, “Margot. Check it out!”

  He hitches a thumb at me and Toby, the look on his face telling me we’re in for it. I love the fans, I really do. But fuck, man, can I get my coffee first?

  “We’re coming to the show tonight,” he tells me as Tabby takes a step back to watch the shit go down.

  “Cool, man. Glad to have you there.” My smile is the same bullshit one I’ve used for years.

  I’ve used it so often that people actually believe it to be genuine. I mean, when it’s how I look all the time, why wouldn’t it be? Right?

  He hesitates as though waiting for one of us to announce he’s won the backstage pass lottery. “Yeah. It’s an anniversary treat for Margot. I can’t believe we’ve crossed paths, man.”

  “Congratulations on the anniversary,” Toby chips in, taking the heat off me long enough that I can pay for the coffees.

  “Thanks.” The guy’s gaze flicks to Tabby, and I see it go down in the droop of his brow. He’s lined up the equation, he’s doing the math, and it’s only a matter of time. “I saw you on YouTube.”

  Fuck.

  She nods, her smile sheepish. The contrast is ridiculous: she’s embarrassed by the attention, when I’m frustrated by it.

  “Yeah. You played their song on your violin.”

  Her eyes flick to mine. She’s clearly unsure what this guy’s take on it is—whether he liked it or no
t. I give her a nod to let her know it’s okay.

  If he hadn’t liked it, she’d more than likely be wearing his iced coffee by now. Fans—they’re passionate.

  “Hi.” The lovely Margot reaches our group spectacle, giving a little wave.

  I give her a silent nod, while Toby shakes her hand.

  “Congrats.” He glances between the two. “Wedding anniversary?”

  Margot giggles. “No. Not yet.” Her eyes soften on the short guy beside her. “We’re celebrating three months together.”

  Three months to— What the fuck? Tabby swallows. Toby plasters on a forced smile. I fail.

  Epically fail.

  I manage to suppress my thoughts on the matter at first, my lips painful with how hard I mash my mouth shut. But when the guy exclaims how lucky he is, I lose it.

  The entire fucking group stares at me as though I just killed a puppy when the snort erupts from me.

  I just… three months. I’ve had hangovers that lasted longer than that.

  “You okay?” Toby asks, aka “Get your shit together.”

  “Sorry. I just got reminded of something at the worst time.” I try to bluff it off, but busty Margot isn’t having it.

  “Rude much?” All she needs is the finger snap to go with the wiggle, and I’d be down for the count. “Let’s go, Shelly.”

  The guy’s name is Shelly? I turn away to avoid making this worse. Kill me now.

  “Have a good afternoon, guys. We’ll see you there tonight,” Toby calls in a lame-ass fucking attempt to salvage what’s left of the situation after I’ve set fire to the crate of puppies. “Jesus, Rey.” The heel of his hand collides with my shoulder. “You’ve got issues.”

  “Well there’s a fucking newsflash.” I snatch the takeaway cup from the counter and thrust his coffee at him. “Here. Enjoy.”

  Tabby retrieves her drink before I get a chance to, patient and quiet as I grab my own. Fuck—I thought I had a hold on things. After yesterday morning with kitty… I was calm.

  I am calm. Who the fuck am I kidding. That sated bliss I got from tasting her? It’s gone. And as I look at the gorgeous creature who walks out of the shop with me, reenacting that moment is the only thing I can think of.