by Kacey Shea
“I did. For several years.” The shame I’ve worked so hard to overcome threatens to berate me again. As a trained police officer, and someone who’s been through years of counseling, I’m all too familiar with the psychological elements resulting in abuse. I know my reaction is natural, as well as misplaced.
“Please tell me he met a painful and untimely death.” His hands reach for mine and I let him peel open my clenched fists. He threads our fingers together. “That way I don’t have to track him down and commit first-degree murder.”
“My parents’ marriage fell apart. Everything fell apart after we left Phoenix. He was a cousin on my dad’s side, and since Desmond and I lived with Mama after the divorce, I never had to see him again.”
“You never told your mom?” He seems surprised.
I get it. Because my mama and I were always close. At least when we lived in Arizona. Things changed when we moved away. She was torn up, and just trying to survive those first years without Dad. I don’t even think she noticed the change in me. Or if she did, she blamed herself. “She had enough to deal with, and I didn’t need to add to the drama.”
“This isn’t a little gossip, Jayla. It’s abuse.”
“I know, Austin. You don’t have to tell me.” A laugh escapes my lips but it holds no humor. “But if I don’t let this go, it eats me alive. I choose to let this go.”
“And make sure it doesn’t happen to other women.” His eyes widen with the realization. “That’s why you agreed to the videos.”
“Yeah.”
“You realize this makes you even more attractive, right? You’re already drop dead gorgeous and a complete badass, but now . . .” His gaze is hungry, but it’s full of so much more than lust. Admiration maybe? It’s the last thing I expect to find, and yet it obliterates the apprehension I had about sharing this part of myself with him.
“Now what?” I whisper. It’s a loaded question.
With my hands still tangled in his, he brings them to his lips and places chaste kisses across my knuckles. His gaze never leaves mine. “How am I going to stay away?”
My breath catches in my throat. The intensity of his stare eats right through the last of my defenses. My soul is cracked open and vulnerable, ripe for his taking. I should retreat. I should shut this down. But for once I give in to the tiny whisper of my heart that begs for safety, for love, for home. “I’ll kick you in the nuts if you get too close.” The retort flies from my lips, though it lacks any real malice.
Austin’s lips curl up with his smile. “I’m surprisingly okay with that.”
Moving to my knees, I close what little space is left between our bodies and straddle his waist to sit on his lap. His hard abs flex and he tips his chin up to meet my gaze. “This won’t be easy. I’m not like most women. I have to have control. I understand if you want out.” On one long exhale I spill the rest of my truth. “But if you’re gonna walk, do it now. Don’t fuck with my heart.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he says. “I swear.”
My pulse races with his promise, but I still can’t trust myself to be swayed by pretty words. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
His finger brushes along my jaw and down the length of my neck. His gaze grows heavy, and I feel the hardness of his arousal press between my thighs. But his touch is tender as the scruff of his cheek rubs against my skin, up the column of my throat and down again, pressing sweet kisses as he moves. His touch is more worship than greedy, and I have to resist the urge to melt into him completely. My body comes alive under his sure and steady moves.
I can almost picture him laying me down. Moving on top of me. Me enjoying the weight of his body. Being intimate without fear. He makes it feel possible. This. Us. Everything.
My pulse speeds. My breath catches. I can’t deal. My hands press against his pecs and I shove so he lands on the mattress. I have control again. My chest heaves with each inhalation, but I’m no longer overwhelmed. “Hands here.” I press his wrists into the bedding, a few inches from where my legs straddle his waist.
He doesn’t hesitate or fight my request. His fingers grasp for the sheets, and it’s the most erotic sight. His arms flex, his body tight and hard beneath me. I press my hands onto his chest and scoot up his body so our most intimate parts align perfectly before leaning forward to capture his lips in a kiss.
“Be sweet,” he whispers against my mouth as our lips brush. “Please.”
If he hadn’t already stolen my heart, he captures it now. My eyes pinch shut, a vain attempt to hold back the surge of emotion that threatens to escape with tears. A part of me wants to fight this. But the other part wants to give in to his simple request. To at least try.
I leveled him with my dirty secrets. He didn’t run. Even before, when I shared my body, he took only what I was willing to give. I trust Austin. I do. This time as we come together I offer him more.
Sensual. Connected. Dirty and sweet. His hands never release their grip on the sheets, and I give in to the pull of desire that builds and explodes between us. There are no words this time, only mouths, tongues, breath, bodies—two people reaching for delicious release. Sweaty and intense, we’re the only two people in the world, or at least that’s the way it feels. This time is as good as before. No, it’s better. The buildup is slower, the coil of nerves at my sex tightens, edging me closer to release until I can’t hold off. Our bodies move together, still on my lead and on my terms, but this is no longer just sex. No, it’s very much like making love. This time when my orgasm hits, I give in completely because I trust without a doubt that Austin will catch me if I fall. And damn, that feeling alone is life altering.
25
Jayla
I fell asleep.
I can’t believe I fell asleep. After sex. In a bed. With a man. Not just any man.
Austin.
This is messy, I know, and maybe it was stupid to cross lines last night. What are we even doing? We never hashed out details. I don’t know what I want, or how this works. But no matter how many times I replay last night in my mind, I can’t find it in me to regret being with him. My muscles ache with that delicious soreness that only comes from a night of sex, and for once in my life I don’t feel shame or bitterness the morning after. I gave him everything, and he took it all willingly. My soul feels lighter, more free than it’s ever been, and if I could hold on to this forever I would.
Austin’s rhythmic breathing keeps me rooted to this bed. I really have to pee, but I don’t want to break the enchantment of this cocoon we created to hide us from the world. Once I get up, the day begins and everything will change. My gaze drinks in the sight of his sleeping form, and I unabashedly study the ink on his skin. He’s so beautiful. He’s strong. He’s all man, and for last night, all mine. Something changed between us. The invisible line we drew between us is now non-existent. I can’t go back to work today and pretend last night never happened, but I’m no idiot either. He has his career, and for now I’m paid to protect him and the band. No doubt there would be consequences if we were to date publicly—if that’s even what he wants. Or what I want.
Maybe last night was merely a hookup for him. Does he even want to date? What would the band think? The label? I could get fired, and if I wasn’t on this tour, we’d be forced to do the long distance thing. Could I trust him on the road? Would he have issues staying faithful?
“Keep frowning and you’ll get wrinkles.”
My eyes fly up to meet his. “You aren’t sleeping.”
He chuckles, his voice still thick with sleep, and it sends tingles down my spine. He rolls onto his side to face me. “We pointing out the obvious? Because you’re beautiful in the morning.”
Wrong. He’s the one with the unfairly perfect bed hair. His locks are just a little too long and my fingers itch to run through the curls. Instead, my hand goes to my own head and I cringe imaging how bad I must look.
“Beautiful.” He draws my hand away and any smart retort gets caught in my throat under the
heat of his gaze. My body thrums to life. I already want him again.
“I need a shower. I should go.” I drag my gaze from his and climb out of bed. I also really need to use the restroom.
“Funny.” He sits up in bed, watching as I move toward the open door. “My room has one of those.”
My hands go to my hips. “But I need my things.”
“We’ll have the concierge bring them to my suite,” he says so simply. It hits me just how much our lives differ, and how much money he must have. Add it to the list of the many differences between his reality and mine.
“No, we won’t.” I gather my clothes from last night and head to the restroom before he convinces me to stay. We still need to talk, but I also don’t want to get caught sneaking out of his room. Last night we came together perfectly, but the harsh light of the morning sun illuminates all the ways this is wrong.
I avoid his gaze until I’m safely locked in the bathroom where I relieve my bladder, dress in my clothes from yesterday, and pull back my hair the best I can until I’m back in my room with my conditioner and comb. My feet drag as I head back out to face Austin, confliction bubbling in my gut and slowing my retreat. I should stay, at least long enough to talk and sort this out, whatever it is between us. But I’m battling the impulse to run, to protect myself from the vulnerability that makes me feel more naked fully dressed in this hotel room than I did last night.
“Hey,” Austin says with a slight grin when I finally emerge from the bathroom. A pair of sweats hang low on his hips, and he holds out a cup of coffee while another brews from the single-serve machine behind him. Fancy. Hotel suites have all the good stuff. “I thought we could talk.” The smile he wears almost looks unsure. Hopeful. As if he’s worried I might reject his offering.
“Thank you.” I take the mug and take a long sip, glad I’m not the only one unsettled about where we stand.
“I like you, Jayla.”
“I know.” My lips pull into a teasing grin.
He rewards me with a megawatt smile. “Yeah, and I think you might like me, too.” He scrubs a hand over the scruff of his face. “Last night was . . . incredible. Amazing. Fucking hell, I can’t even put it to words. But thanking you feels stupid, and also not enough, because being with you felt more significant and real than anything I’ve ever done.”
My cheeks heat at his word vomit and all the compliments he throws my way.
“Say something before I make an idiot out of myself.” He grips his coffee and brings it to his lips.
I do the same and lift my brow, teasing because I can’t help but love this unsure and fumbling version of Austin.
“Okay, more of an idiot.” He chuckles, setting down his coffee. “Please, put me out of my misery.”
“I like you, too.”
“Yeah.” His lips curve up until the grin takes over his face.
“But how does this work?” I signal between us.
His smile turns absolutely dirty.
“Not that!” I roll my eyes. “I think we figured out how that works just fine.”
“Maybe we give it a go once more to be sure?” He steps toward me like a man on the hunt. Like he can’t wait another moment to touch me. Kiss me. Taste me. I feel the same. His lips meet mine in a possessive kiss, one in which our mouths battle and bodies spark with lust.
“Coffee,” I mutter between kisses, because I don’t want to spill the hot liquid on him or me. The way this is going, that’s a likely consequence. His lips leave mine and he takes a step back, grabbing my mug and setting it on the counter in a rush.
Before he can claim my lips again, our phones go off, simultaneously buzzing with incoming calls. Shit. The time! My security team meeting! God, how irresponsible am I? I should have checked in last night. This morning too. Guilt, thick and suffocating, edges my thoughts as I scramble for my cell. I exhale a rush of relief when I find it’s only seven—I haven’t missed the meeting with my team—and it’s only Trent calling, not one of my security staff.
Austin holds up his cell, frown lines etched in his brow. “It’s Sean. Stay. I’ll take this in the bathroom.”
I don’t have a chance to tell him Trent’s on my line—or wonder why two of the band members are calling so early—because I need to answer if I don’t want this going to voicemail.
“Hi, Trent.” I turn and walk back into the bedroom so my voice won’t carry to Austin’s conversation.
“Jayla. Hey, sorry to bother you so early.”
“It’s no problem. What’s up?”
“We have a problem.” There’s a long pause. “Do you think we could meet and uh, talk in person? Privately?”
My heart rate jumps and races. “Um, sure.” He couldn’t know about Austin and me. Could he?
“Good. We’re all in my suite. Well, almost all of us. Sean’s still trying to track down Aust.”
I breathe out a sigh of relief. Of course he couldn’t know Austin and I hooked up last night. This is about the band. “Give me thirty minutes?”
“Thank you. Oh, and Jayla? I hate to ask, but can we keep this meeting between us. I’d rather it didn’t get back to the label. At least not yet.”
My stomach clenches with his request to keep this from my boss. Not because I don’t want to, but because I feel more of an allegiance to Austin and the band than I do my actual employer. My priorities are all wrong, and that’s something I haven’t felt since leaving the police force. “Yeah. We’ll talk when I get there. See you soon.”
“Thanks, Jayla.”
Austin steps out of the bathroom as I end my call. He holds his phone up with a frown. “I take it you got called into the trenches also.”
“Yeah, is everything okay?”
“Doubt it. They wouldn’t call a meeting this fucking early for nothing.”
“You’re worried?” I wonder whether this has anything to do with the note the hotel staff delivered yesterday. I want to ask him, but more so I want him to voluntarily explain what it meant.
“No. Yes.” He runs a hand through his hair and tugs at the locks in frustration. “I am, but that’s not why I’m upset.”
“No?” My stomach churns with uncertainty.
“I was hoping to convince you to stay for morning sex.” He bites down on his lip.
As if by some invisible thread, my sex reacts to the sight and clenches with need. “Oh?” I ask breathlessly.
“Yeah. I mean—” his lips tug into a grin and he waggles his brows—“I am the best lay of your life, after all.”
I groan and roll my eyes. “I’m going to regret telling you that.”
“No takebacks.” He steps forward, closing the space between us, and brushes his hands up my arms.
“Humility. You should try it sometime,” I say, but I can’t hold back the laughter as it escapes my lips.
“Not the first person to tell me that.” He winks, holding me loosely in his arms. “Hey, Jayla.”
“Yeah?” I tip my chin up.
“I know I said I wouldn’t, but thank you. For last night.”
I bite my lip so I won’t thank him, too. I’ve had sex a handful of times over the years and it was good enough, but I’ve never climaxed during the act. Never felt anything remotely as enjoyable as what we did last night. I thought it was because I was broken. My mind so damaged that I physically couldn’t orgasm with a partner. But Austin proved me wrong. Sex like that could be addicting.
Austin drops a chaste kiss on my lips.
“I’ll see you in Trent’s suite.” I sigh, wishing I could stay longer, but we’re running out of time. I step back from his embrace to grab my bag and reach for the door handle.
“We’ll continue this conversation later”—he moves between me and the door, this time brushing his lips against mine with more pressure, more promise—“and pick up where we left off.”
I hope I don’t have to wait all day until he delivers.
26
Austin
“What’s with
the fire alarm?” I push into Trent’s suite and meet the grim expressions of my bandmates and their girlfriends. A sense of foreboding settles on my shoulders when no one responds. I brush my hair back, the strands still wet from my shower, and plop next to Opal on the couch. “Seriously, what’s going on?”
Trent’s gaze flicks to Sean and then over to Jess. She studies the tips of her shoes, her face etched with worry. Opal rubs her hand over her belly in slow circles. Everyone is being weird and that knot of concern in my gut grows.
Lexi meets my stare and breaks the silence. “Maybe we should wait for Jayla?”
I laugh to ease the tension. “This better not be an intervention. I promise I hardly get high anymore.” And I don’t. Not unless you count the woman I am completely addicted to.
Trent rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “Not everything is about you, dumbass.”
“But it should be. Speaking of, I hope to God you ordered breakfast for this impromptu meeting. I’m hungry.”
“There’s bagels, fruit, and orange juice,” Opal says. “Let me make you a plate.” She presses her hands into the couch and moves to stand.
“No way, little mama.” I reach for her elbow and halt her from moving any further. “I should be getting you a plate. You want something?” I stand and take a few steps backward.
“Bring me an apple?”
“You got it.” I wink, mostly because it annoys Leighton. I have no interest in Opal, but I do like fucking with him.
As if on cue, he frowns.
I just laugh, strutting across the suite to make a plate and brew myself a cup of coffee. I have a feeling I’m going to need several more to get through today. I didn’t get a ton of sleep last night, not that I’m complaining. I’d gladly trade rest for more sexy times with Jayla, but we have a full schedule on the agenda. Interviews with local radio and news stations. Sound checks. Luncheon with some sponsors. Then a meet and greet before tonight’s show. It’ll be past midnight before we roll on to St. Louis and do it all again.
“You’re in a much better mood this morning.” Trent stands next to me at the bar and snags a grape off my plate, popping it into his mouth.
