Catch Me When I Fall

by Jackson, A. L.

  Could smell it coming off her, could feel it as she rubbed her thighs together. A fresh round of lust went pounding through my body, hammering my heart into mayhem, and I was desperately searching around inside myself for one moral bone.

  For one sliver of decency.

  I might be a dick, but I refused to be a creep.

  Problem was, she was looking at me like I was the one who’d saved her. Found her when she’d been wandering lost for years.

  Two minutes later, the cab pulled into the drive at the hotel, and I tossed a bill at him.

  Asshole was lucky that was my only parting gift.

  Climbing out, I turned, dipped down, and extended my hand.

  Emily took it, those legs so long as she slid to the side and stepped out into the night, and I wondered if she’d even noticed that I hadn’t asked her where she was staying. She just let me lead her into the posh lobby of the boutique hotel in Historic Savannah.

  Old brick walls and dark hardwood floors made it feel like we were stepping into another time, like one of those old romance movies that screamed scandal and temptation.

  Guessed it was no accident she was staying here.

  I dipped down to murmur in her ear, “What room?”

  “Four-Seventeen.”

  I punched at the button of the elevator. A river of anxiety pulsed through my blood as I waited, that feeling only intensifying tenfold when we stepped onto the lift and the doors swept closed.

  Boxing us in.

  Sealing us off.

  Just the two of us with our pulses pounding and our breaths filling the confined space.

  Mirrors surrounded us on all sides.

  I pried myself away, needing to put about two states between us.

  Emily turned to face me, those blonde waves a sexy disorder where they’d been mussed by my fingers, her lips bruised and swollen from my kiss. Girl taunting me in that short red dress that screamed country and a pair of wedge heels, legs bare and leading to the promised land underneath.

  And there she was, staring at me with all that innocent seduction she wore like a brand.

  She looked like heaven.

  Tasted like it, too.

  I leaned against the railing, holding on to it like I was shackled by chains.

  Forever condemned to hell.

  Sounded about right.

  “You are gorgeous. I hope you know that. I hope you look in the mirror and you see exactly what I see. I hope you know exactly how much you’re worth. Don’t you ever sell yourself short.”

  My words were hard, coming across like a threat.

  It was exactly what I meant them to be.

  A frown pulled across her face just as the elevator jolted to a stop on the fourth floor. The doors slid open. I took her hand, and my body was assaulted with the shiver of anticipation that rolled through her.

  Luckily, her door was a straight shot off the elevator, and I waited behind her as she fumbled into her pocket and retrieved the key. She slipped it into the slot and clicked open the door, not looking back at me as she pushed it open.

  But with the way she was trembling, I knew she was expecting me to follow.

  Anxious and nervous and needy.

  I pressed my hand up high on the door to hold it open for her so she could go all the way in, and when she didn’t feel me enter, she turned around. Confusion filled her expression.

  “Good night, Emily.”

  She looked like I kicked her, but this girl didn’t have the first clue that I was doing her a favor.

  “What?” It quivered from her mouth, a plea that hit me like a bullet to the chest.

  “I think it’d be best if we call it a night.”

  Her head started to shake, as much as her hands, and fuck me, a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

  Didn’t know how it was possible that a girl who was so voraciously sought after, wanted, could feel the amount of rejection that had visibly struck through her spirit.

  The palpable pain that filled the air and clenched my chest in regret.

  I wanted to ruin every fucker who’d ever damaged her. Vindicate every scar.

  “Please . . . don’t leave me here like this.”

  “Emily.” It was a groan. A petition for her not to do this.

  Her eyes dropped closed, and her little hands clenched at her side.

  “Please. Don’t do this to me. I can’t handle it tonight. I need . . . I need . . .” she trailed off as more moisture went gliding down her face, glinting in the bare light of her room, while the girl stood there pressing her thighs together, desperate for relief.

  For something to fill up the void.

  For an escape.

  Motherfucker.

  There was nothing I could do.

  I broke.

  Restraints coming apart.

  I pushed through the door, and it slammed shut behind me.

  I swept her off her feet, and surprise was rocking from her mouth just as I was diving in to swallow it. Her hurt and insecurities and fears.

  I kissed her mad. As mad as she was driving me, my hand in her hair and the other at her back as I lifted her to prop her on the high foyer table of her suite.

  A rasp of need moaned from her mouth as the cool glass hit the back of her thighs, and I continued to devour her, muttering the words in between, “You think you aren’t wanted? You think I don’t want you?”

  I shouldn’t.

  It was so fucking wrong. So twisted and at odds with everything I’d been fighting for. Right then, it didn’t matter.

  Frantic, I held her by one side of the face, our lips grasping for the other, my other hand pressing her legs apart by one knee. I slid my fingers over the soaked fabric of her underwear. “You think I don’t want this?”

  I shoved the fabric aside and pressed two fingers into the wet well of her body. I fucked her tight little pussy with them, driving her right into delirium as I consumed her mouth like the greedy bastard that I was.

  Yeah. I was going to regret this.

  But I might have regretted walking away more.

  She rode my hand, gasps ripping up her throat as I rolled my thumb over her swollen clit. As I worked her into a frenzy. Shot her straight into oblivion.

  “Fuck, you are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You are every fantasy I’ve ever had. Did you know that, Emily? Do you have any clue how damn sexy you are? I would sell my soul to get into this body.”

  Thing was, I’d already sold my soul a long time ago, and it no longer belonged to me.

  Her hands were everywhere, whimpers coming from her mouth, fingers going for the buttons of my shirt. “Take this off. I want to see you. I want to feel this. Know you.”

  Grabbing her by the wrists, I pinned both of them over her head to the mirror on the wall behind her.

  “No,” I grunted, thrusting my fingers deeper and harder and faster, the whole time wishing it was my aching dick that was getting to experience all that slick, tight heat.

  “Please,” she whimpered, but then she was forgetting all of that when I pressed down on her engorged clit, swirling my thumb over that sweet spot. I curled my fingers deep inside her and shot her to the stars.

  Her back bowed, her covered tits arching out, my tongue thirsting to get a taste, my eyes raking over the most beautiful sight I’d witnessed in all my life.

  The girl was a fucking oasis.

  A song written in seduction.

  She cried out, my name a plea and praise on her tongue, her entire body stretched taut, wracked in bliss.

  She gasped and writhed, pants heaving from her chest as she came back down.

  Slowly, she peeled her eyes open. Lost in them, I pulled my fingers free and readjusted her skirt, my heart a jackhammer in my chest as I helped her down onto unsteady feet.

  Like a fool, I leaned in and brushed my lips against hers, relishing her for one second more.

  “It’s so fucking wrong how bad I want to keep you,” I murmured to her forehea
d, squeezing my eyes, memorizing this.

  Then I peeled myself away, turned, and headed for the door.

  “Royce.” Pain bled through her voice. Like a sucker, I turned around to look at her because apparently there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to resist this girl. “I . . . I don’t understand.”

  Taking the three steps back her direction, I swept back the lock of hair that had fallen into her face, stared her down, my words grit. “Just remember in the morning that I warned you the only thing I do is make mistakes.”

  And I was pretty sure this was the worst one I’d ever made.

  Before I could make this worse, which was pretty much a fucking impossibility, I tore myself away and forced myself into the hall, pulling the door shut behind me.

  The click of the lock engaging rang with finality, and I headed down the hall, heart raging like a beast, cock so hard it was painful to walk.

  Derision huffed from my nose when I stopped three doors down in front of my suite, and I dug into my back pocket and pulled out my key.

  Wondering how it was possible I’d fucked up so badly on day one.

  Standing there, I promised myself I would never touch her again.

  Didn’t matter how fucking bad I wanted her.

  I had a job to do.

  And I was damn sure going to see it through.

  Four

  Emily

  The phone ringing from the nightstand pulled me from sleep. From what had been a really incredible dream, or a really bad one, I couldn’t decide.

  All I knew was I felt completely wrung out as I lifted my head from the pillow where I’d been passed out facedown, my hair a ratted mess that obstructed my view as I fumbled around to find my cell.

  Finally getting hold of it, I flopped onto my back and shoved the mess of hair from my face so I could see who was screaming for my attention.

  Sunlight poured in through the massive windows overlooking the river, and I squinted through bleary eyes. Sickness bloomed in my stomach when I saw the name on the screen.

  Of course.

  At seven in the mornin’.

  Who else would it be?

  As if I didn’t have enough to deal with.

  Flinging my arm over my eyes like a shield, I accepted the call and pushed the phone to my ear.

  “Nile.” I gave it my all to keep my voice from shaking.

  “Emily.” He breathed out in what sounded like disappointment and relief. “I haven’t heard from you in weeks. Why haven’t you returned my calls?”

  I swallowed around the knot of irritation that burned hot in my chest. Was he serious? After everything?

  “I never said that I would.”

  Silence traveled through the distance. His anger was almost palpable, though I knew he was trying to rein it in considering he sure didn’t have a right in the world for it to be there. Still, there was an accusation in his tone. “You used to call every day.”

  “Yes, Nile, that was when we were engaged. When I was committed to you and you were committed to me. We aren’t anymore. Do you see how that works?”

  Couldn’t keep the snippiness out of my voice.

  I mean, really, who did he think he was?

  “I care about you. I was worried.”

  Resentful laughter rippled out. “You cheated on me.”

  Wasn’t there when I needed him most. When I’d gone to him at the worst time of my life, and I’d found him with her.

  An indignant huff came through the line. “Because you were gone for three fuckin’ months. Had guys drooling all over you every time you got up on that damn stage while you left me here alone. What else was I supposed to do?”

  Right. All of that made it just fine?

  “Oh, I don’t know . . . respect me? Cherish me? Realize I was worth the wait?” I spat at him, hurt and hatred bleeding out.

  He sighed. “You are worth the wait.”

  I laughed again, no amusement in the sound. “You should have thought about that then.”

  “Maybe you should come home. Where you belong. We’ll work it out. You know how good we are when we’re together.”

  “There’s no working this out, Nile.”

  Sadness pulsed through my spirit, cracks that throbbed where everything good had leaked out and left me hollow.

  Dreams that had been lost.

  Love that had been crushed.

  “Emily,” he murmured, his voice turning low and pleading, and I fought the threat of tears I could feel pricking at the backs of my eyes. I couldn’t do this with him. Not again. Not anymore.

  “Please . . . just don’t, Nile. What’s done is done. It’s over.”

  “We aren’t finished. You know we’re not. Tell me you don’t still feel this.”

  Grief bound my chest.

  “You want to hear that I still feel it, Nile? Fine. You’re right. I do. I still feel it. I still feel the remnants of the devastation I felt when I came home and found you with her. I can still feel the split right down the middle of my heart. I still feel the betrayal carved into my soul. And I promise you, I don’t ever want to feel that again.”

  Without allowing him to say anything else, I ended the call, needing to cut off that train before he pushed me any further. Before he backed me up against a wall, and I completely lost it.

  God, I wished there was a way to eradicate everything.

  Start over.

  Before I let myself drown in an ocean of turmoil, I forced myself up to sitting, knowing I had so many more things to face this mornin’ than just my ex-fiancé.

  Instantly, I was hit with a rush of dizziness. The residual of last night’s alcohol slugged nausea through my veins, and a vague memory was pressing into my mind.

  My hand slid down my trembling body, checking to see that I was still whole. That his touch hadn’t shattered all the pieces I was trying to hold together.

  Royce.

  I’d fallen into bed still wearing the red dress that was now wrinkled and crumpled to shame, so confused and unsettled by the stranger who’d made me feel different—reminded me that I was still inside, maybe beaten and shackled and a little bit broken, my spirit dimmed, but I was there.

  Alive.

  A tinge of hope still burning in the depths.

  I’d be a fool to deny it wasn’t more than that, though. That was shocking in itself. He’d touched me in a way I was sure I’d never been touched before, passion boiling over and inciting a raging storm that had come from out of nowhere.

  As beautiful as it was devastating.

  Then he’d just . . . left.

  Left me standing there aching and needy and more bewildered than I’d ever been. Offering myself to a man who I’d sworn had wanted me every bit as badly as I’d wanted him. I’d been desperate to stand in his flames, to experience the rush and thrill.

  To experience the darkness that surrounded him.

  Okay, maybe that was a problem, too. A flicker of worry traipsed through my spirit. Just because I was struggling didn’t mean I should turn around and go after things that I shouldn’t.

  Choosing danger rather than allowing it to come after me.

  I blinked through the images from last night, trying to process. I pressed the heel of my hand to my eye as if it might offer some clarity. My brain was a muddled, hazy mess.

  No big surprise there.

  But that didn’t mean it wasn’t ingrained with the perfect imprint of that unforgettable face.

  Ugh. I needed to shake off the encounter. Accept that fixating on it wasn’t going to make a difference.

  Like I’d told Nile, what was done was done. That went for the stranger, too. I’d be gone this morning, and I wouldn’t be seeing him again.

  A chance missed.

  Or maybe it was one of those blessings after all. I was pretty sure the sunlight pouring in through the window was casting a spotlight on my bad judgement.

  I knew myself well enough to know I would have regretted it.

  No one-nig
ht stand was going to fill up this hollowed-out vacancy that throbbed inside of me, and it sure wasn’t gonna heal the cracked, brittle pieces that I was barely holdin’ together.

  Pounding thundered from my hotel door.

  My heart jumped into a riot.

  I wasn’t sure I was ready to face my brother and the rest of the band after what I’d done last night. And I was more than certain I wasn’t ready to answer their questions or succumb to the pressures.

  God, maybe I really should pack up my things and make a run for it.

  All the way back to South Carolina. Curl up in the warmth of my mama’s house and the safety of her arms. She’d know what to do. That was if I ever garnered the courage to confess it, which hurt all the more considering it wasn’t even my own sin.

  But I’d kept it as my own.

  Bottled it.

  Let it fester.

  Last night onstage, it’d almost burst.

  Another round of pounding echoed from the door.

  Groaning, I shut down the disturbance of thoughts and forced myself out of bed. I padded barefoot across the posh room and out into the living space.

  My attention caught on the glass table where he’d had me pinned.

  Redness streaked across my flesh, as red as the dress. Maybe I wasn’t gonna get over the memory so easily.

  Another bout of impatient knocking.

  “Comin’,” I grated, voice scratchy from sleep, wary of who was going to be on the other side.

  I popped up onto my toes and glanced through the peephole.

  Relief blew through my body, and I quickly worked the lock and opened the door.

  “Mel.”

  With a smile that was partway a frown, she shoved a paper cup of coffee in my direction. “I figured you were gonna need that this mornin’. My keycard didn’t work since you had the deadbolt engaged. What’s that all about, anyway? You know I should have access to you twenty-four-seven.” She issued the last like a tease, edging right in without an invitation. It wasn’t like she needed one. She was my best friend, my closest confidant, but I’d done a bang-up job of keeping her at bay, too.