The curl of his lip lifted his mustache and formed faint crescents into his lean cheeks. He pointed in the opposite direction from where I’d been headed. But I found myself turning along with him, like it was natural and right for me to follow his lead.
“You okay on a motorcycle?” he asked in his captivating voice as he opened the door for me to exit the building.
I ducked through and walked beside him into a warm Texas evening, pondering the mysteries of a universe that suddenly seemed to have realigned around him. Like, why did his bottom lip seem fuller and more temptingly kissable than it had been only a moment before?
“Motorcycle? You? Me?” He rephrased the question, his grin deepening at my continued silence. He must have picked up on how distracted I was and that he had caused it.
“I can ride,” I said. Heat as hot as the pavement beneath us blasted my cheeks.
“I imagine you can.” His gaze traveled the length of my body, a leisurely scan.
My stomach flipped as I noted the interest in his eyes when they met mine again. I wasn’t a bombshell blonde like Dolly, but he didn’t seem to find a statuesque woman with long black hair wearing borrowed clothing lacking.
“I mean, I’ve been on a motorcycle before.”
“Not with me, you haven’t.”
“No. Is that an important distinction?” I asked, and my thoughts ran wild.
Sitting behind Gale Lafleur? My body pressed to his? My arms around him?
I licked my suddenly dry lips.
“In my estimation, yes.” His eyes twinkled like smoky sparklers.
“Maybe your estimation is slightly biased.” I found my spirt lightening and lowered my guard. There was something about him, something beyond his eyes, handsome features, and sexy body that intrigued me.
“No. Just stating facts as I see them.” He stopped at the curb. “Mind your step. The overhead lighting is a little spotty in this lot.” Taking my arm, he was careful with me, making certain I didn’t trip.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He squeezed my arm, his grip lingering almost imperceptibly before he released me.
“Here we are.” He pointed, and I followed the length of his arm in his partially rolled-up sleeve to an imposingly large motorcycle.
“That huge thing is yours?” I asked, my eyes rounding.
“Yeah.” His grin wide, he crossed his arms over his magnificent chest. “But it’s not the only thing of mine that’s an impressive size.”
I shook my head, telling myself not to look down to validate his claim, but I did. His jeans fit him well, not leaving much to the imagination.
Trouble, Jo. No imagining. Keep your attention on a safer territory above his waist.
“It’s a BMW R1100 touring model.”
He caught and captured my gaze the moment I lifted it. Awareness flashed between us again, making me wonder when it came to him if there was any safe territory for my eyes . . . or any other part of me.
“It’s a beautiful machine.”
I glanced at it. The streetlight it was parked under revealed a black leather seat that was wide and appeared supple. The metal parts were polished chrome. Hard-shell luggage compartments on either side of the rear wheel hinted at the traveling nature of the vehicle and the vagabond nature of its rider.
Come take a long ride with me on an open road. Both the man and his mechanical beast sang a subliminal tune that beguiled me.
“It not only looks rugged, it is rugged. Two hundred miles on a single tank; it’s built to go the distance.”
“Yeah?” I turned back to him and arched a brow. I got that he was talking about more than just the specs of his BMW. “It certainly seems sleek, but then outward appearances can be deceiving.”
“It’s secure and competent.”
“Hmm. Meaning nice, boring, and entirely too complicated.”
“Intriguingly powerful, handles responsively, and delivers an incredible, unforgettable ride.” He shrugged, and I got lost watching the play of his muscles beneath the fine cotton of his shirt.
Powerful, indeed.
“Those are just a bunch of fancy words.” I couldn’t help but throw more sass at him. Gale was smart. It was exhilarating to verbally spar with him. “The proof’s in the action.”
“I’ll show you some action,” he said low, the glint of promise in his eyes more than intriguing. It was hot. “But your safety comes first.”
As he turned and opened one of the luggage cases, I stared at his muscular back. The width of his shoulders stretched his shirt, and the tight cut of his jeans made looking at his fine ass in them foreplay.
Withdrawing a helmet, he turned around and offered it to me. I glanced at it before raising my questioning gaze to him.
“You want me to wear that?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve never worn one before.”
His slanted brows drew together. “But you said you’d ridden before. Helmets aren’t mandatory in Texas?”
I shook my head. “Texans don’t like to be told what to do.” Any more than I did.
“But it’s common sense.” His eyes narrowed. “You should never get on a motorcycle without one.”
Well, I had, and I would again if Tyler asked me. I liked having the wind in my hair and going fast. And more importantly, I didn’t put the high value on personal safety—my personal safety—that Gale apparently did.
It was a stark difference between us. A significant one. He sought to protect his life after his losses. I didn’t see the point in protecting mine.
“I just remembered something.” I took a step backward, a big one, waving away the offer of the helmet, and everything it and its owner represented, like I should have done at the beginning. I’d just call for a ride instead. “I can’t go with you. I’m sorry.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“It wouldn’t be right.”
“Because you’re with someone?” Gale’s handsome face darkened.
“Not like you think. But I’m not free.”
Not free to talk, flirt, get on a motorcycle, or do anything else with Gale. For a moment, he’d made me forget the things I knew. The one thing I needed to do.
And no matter how nice Gale was, that made him dangerous.
“GO AWAY, TYLER!”
Spinning to a stop in the back hallway of Joey’s Bar later that night, I put my hand over my chest where my heart raced. Just like every other time he’d pursued me, it turned me on at the same time that it scared me.
I was so fucked up.
Tyler’s golden-brown gaze dropped to my chest, and his lips curled. “You gonna give me what I want if I go away?”
“No. Not that I’ll give you what you want if you stay.” I lifted my chin.
“You’ll give it to me.” His eyes molten gold, he advanced, walking me backward into the wall.
“No, I will not, you arrogant prick.”
“Yes, you will.” His grin deepened, lifting his thick mustache on either side of his sexy mouth.
Not sexier than someone else’s mouth, I thought, annoyed at how quickly the mental comparison had surfaced.
“Make me, then. Make me want it. Get me in the mood,” I said, throwing out the challenge.
Tyler yanked me to him, like I knew he would, and kissed me hard.
Another memory flashed into my mind, but guys like Gale Lafleur weren’t for girls like me. I imagined placing the memory of our meeting inside a virtual locket. Clicking the lid closed, I returned the keepsake to a secret place deep down inside me.
Tyler’s grip tightened around my upper arms, bringing me back to the present moment and this familiar fiery heat between us. When he lifted his head, his eyes were dark with passion.
He tilted his head to the side. “In the bathroom. Now.”
“No!” Pressed into the wall, my arms pinned, I had no power that he didn’t allow me.
“Yes!” he said in a low growl that gave me an anticipatory
shiver. Grabbing me, he lifted and threw me over his shoulder in a single fluid motion.
“Put me down!”
I protested, banging my fists ineffectively against his back as he shoved open the women’s restroom door and stomped inside. Dangling over one of his thickly muscled shoulders, I felt each of his footfalls as they pounded pressure into my abdomen. Pressure that felt good, but it needed to be better for me to forget.
“Get out!” he shouted, his deep voice gravelly, and the woman who had been leaning over the counter applying her lipstick squeaked and hurried out.
He spun around, and I caught a glimpse of the pure masculine need in his stark expression before he dropped me on the counter. “Seems strong enough.”
His lips curved as he swept his gaze over me. I registered his satisfaction like a rough caress.
“You’re not fucking me on this counter.” My throat went dry at the prospect.
“Oh yes, I am, and you want me to.” His breaths were rapid, his pupils dilated. He liked our games as much as I did, maybe more. “Spread ’em.” He tapped my knees.
“You’d better make it good.” I opened my legs, and he stepped between them.
“I always make it good.”
Diving both his hands in my hair, he kissed me again. While I clawed at his T-shirt, he grabbed fistfuls of the hair at my nape and tugged on them. I arched my back, giving in to his wordless demands, and he rewarded me, moving his mouth to my neck and raining fiery kisses along my skin.
“More.” I panted hard, gripping the edge of the counter, and mewed in pleasure when he gave me what I demanded.
“Give me more of those sexy sounds, and I will,” he said darkly, then nipped the taut skin stretched over my clavicle.
“Yes.” I moaned.
“Fuck, you’re amazing.”
“Don’t tell me shit you don’t mean.” My breaths sawed in and out as he moved closer and spread me wider. “Just give me what I want.”
“Sure, baby.” His hands went underneath my cropped tee I’d worn after ditching the dress for our performance tonight. He cupped my tits in his hard hands. “Love that you never wear a bra.”
I leaned forward to deepen the sensation when he squeezed my breasts. “Jo,” I said. “Not your baby.”
“Like that, Jo?” Emphasizing my name, he pinched my nipples.
“Yes.” I moaned.
“Good.” He twisted the tips.
My tits were a sure erogenous zone for me. Tyler and I had fucked enough that he knew it. I felt the stinging pleasure where his fingers were, but I also felt the burn deep inside my pussy. Each unrelenting twist of his fingers sent flame-tipped arrows straight to their target, making it vibrate.
The fire I needed ignited, I released the counter and shoved at his chest. “Get off me and get your cock inside me.”
“Jeans and panties off.” He grabbed me under my arms, lifted me, and stood me on the floor.
“No,” I said defiantly, tossing a long lock of my hair back over my shoulder.
“Not messing around anymore, Jo.” His gaze hot, he unbuckled his jeans and removing a condom from his pocket. “Get ’em off, or I’m ripping them off.” He unbuttoned the denim and lowered his zipper.
“You’d better not. I only have two pairs.”
“I know that. So you better get ’em out of my way.”
He grabbed my shoulders and flipped me around. I caught a glimpse in the mirror of his fully erect member springing free as he lowered his boxers and then rolled on the condom.
“Okay.” Licking my dry lips, I looked down to unbutton and unzip my jeans. Hooking my thumbs in, I started to lower my jeans and underwear, but gasped when he slapped my hands away and did it for me.
“Grab the counter and bend already.” He pressed his palm into my lower back.
My clothing out of the way, I felt the hot imprint of his hand on my skin.
“I can barely move.” I wiggled my bare ass.
Gripping my hips, he pulled me backward. “You don’t need to move. I’ll do all the work.”
He smoothed his palms over my skin and grabbed a rounded globe of my ass in each hand. When he squeezed hard, my pussy spasmed, and I moaned his name.
“Get ready to take the pounding I’m gonna give you,” he growled out.
“I can take whatever—” I sucked in a sharp breath as he found my clit and swept his thumb over it. Heat crashed over me, and when he did it again, my scalp tingled. My legs trembled. My pussy quivered, and I soaked his thumb.
“You’re ready.” Grunting, he positioned himself.
I gripped the counter tighter, my pussy giving another eager twitch when he gripped my hips. I knew what was coming.
“So good,” he said on a groan as he shoved his cock deep inside me.
“Don’t talk. Just fuck me.”
And he did.
I didn’t look at him. Instead, I stared into my own passion-darkened blue eyes in the mirror as he pulled nearly all the way out, and then glided all the way inside again. Like always, I kept my eyes open. If I closed them, I would feel too much. For him. For this.
But that wasn’t what we were. I was just a convenience for Tyler, and he was the same for me.
Grunting, he started to move faster. It was good, so good, to feel something uncontrollable but controllable in a manageable way for a little while.
His hot need and mine melded, along with our bodies. His rod was hard as it filled me. He filled me with it, again and again. Lifting me up onto my toes, he slammed deep inside me.
Taking everything he had, I gripped the counter. He hammered faster, and his cock hardened even more. His breath and mine punctured the hot humid air between us.
When I started to tremble, he stiffened and groaned, slamming inside me deeply one last time. I let go, spasming around his sheathed member. Silently finding fulfillment. Surfacing from it and remembering other things too soon.
He tried to reach for me afterward, but I sidestepped out of his way.
“Jo, let me hold you.”
“No.” I kept my gaze down, refusing to look at him as I rearranged my clothing while he disposed of the condom. “You know that’s not what we are. I’ve told you repeatedly.”
“Let’s talk about it again.” His jeans up but undone, they rode low on his narrow hips as he turned on the tap to wash his hands like I was doing.
“Nothing to talk about.” I turned off the tap and snagged a paper towel from the dispenser.
“There is.”
I heard what Tyler said and the metal of his buckle as he worked on refastening it, but I ignored him, already in motion. Regretting giving in to another time with him, I rushed out the door. Striding quickly down the hall, I retraced my steps.
“Josephine,” he called from behind me.
I walked faster, but slowed as soon as I turned the corner. My friend Marsha West was near the merchandise table set up in the back of the bar, where my bandmates and I sold overpriced tees to fans after our gig. Tyler and I had left her there only moments before, but she wasn’t alone anymore.
I abruptly stopped. Gale Lafleur’s silver eyes were a steel barrier for all my forward momentum, the same way his body had been earlier outside the therapist’s office.
My eyes burned as his gaze slipped from mine to move just past me. I knew who he saw, and what conclusion he correctly formed about Tyler and me.
“Do you two know each other?” Marsha asked. Glancing back and forth between Gale and me, her surprised expression told me she was forming conclusions of her own.
“No,” I replied immediately, shaking my head, denying the truth, even as Gale said, “Yes.”
Not denying anything, he hit me with a puzzled look that I knew Tyler saw just as clearly. He was standing directly behind me, his hands digging possessive caveman indentations into my shoulders.
“He means we’ve seen each other around the tour.” I stared directly into those crystalline gray eyes of Gale’s, silently pleadi
ng with him not to say more.
“What she said.” Gale lifted his chin, holding my gaze long enough for me to get the unspoken message.
I had his silence for now, but he expected me to explain later. But what would I say?
No one on the tour knew about my past or the mandated grief counseling sessions at AA. The woman Gale had met in her borrowed floral dress was from a different place and another time. Sometimes parts of her floated to the surface. Earlier, she’d been tempted by his kindness and moonlight eyes to make an appearance, but only pieces of her. The whole of that woman didn’t exist anymore.
“Yeah, I’m glad that’s all straightened out since I have to go now.”
I spun around to face Tyler Vaughn, placing my hands on the center of his rock-hard chest. He gave me a questioning look, much like Gale had done a moment before. Even now, I continued to register the lead singer’s gaze on my back. It rankled, reminding me I had no control over my current situation.
“Why do you have to go?” Tyler asked, his brow furrowing.
“Because I’m late. The roadies’ bus was supposed to leave an hour ago, and Ronald’s threatening to dock my pay if I’m late again. Could you . . .” I swallowed to moisten my dry throat, not wanting to ask Tyler for a favor. Those always came with a price, and that price was often too dear.
“Tour manager hassling you, babe?” Tyler spoke to me, but his gaze wasn’t on me. It was directed over my shoulder. He and Gale were exchanging some kind of guy look that seemed laden with challenge and meaning. “I’ll talk to him for you.”
“Thank you.” I sighed. Apparently, I was going to owe Tyler a favor whether I wanted to or not.
“I’ll explain to Ron that you were with me.” Tyler’s grip tightened around my upper arms, ratcheting up my tension. “I’ll remind him that you’re mine, and I ultimately control the size of his paycheck. Don’t worry; no one is going to take a penny out of your salary.”
My back was to Gale. I couldn’t see what was going on with him as this bullshit scene with Tyler unfolded, but I saw Marsha. She was watching us all, her eyes wide and speculative.
“Okay. I appreciate it,” I said as I shrugged out of Tyler’s hold.
I’d have to correct his presumptuousness later. He kept trying to tie me to him, and I kept unraveling the bindings. I wasn’t his. I wasn’t anyone’s. But I needed my salary as his drum tech. It covered the cost of gas and food for my band.
ROCK F*CK CLUB (Girls Ranking the Rock Stars Book 5) Page 2
