Paper, Scissors, Rock

by Nicole S. Goodin

  Charlotte gave me a confused look.

  “I wrote a song,” I carried on. “Inspired by the beauty in front of me.”

  The crowd let out a series of cat calls and ‘ohhhs’ and ‘ahhhhs’.

  “And if she doesn’t mind, I want to sing it for her.”

  Charlotte looked like she might be going to pass out.

  I swung the mic around so the crowd couldn’t hear. “That okay with you, babe?”

  She nodded numbly, but her eyes were alight with fire.

  I took it as a yes.

  “Well alright then,” I drawled as I put the mic back in its place. “This here is called ‘Captured’.”

  Holy… sweet…

  Woah…

  I couldn’t even form coherent thoughts with Parker sitting across from me like this. His rough fingers were plucking and strumming at the guitar like it was an extension of his body. His toned arms were flexing as he strummed, and a vein was standing out in his neck as he tensed, his body tight and in control.

  The way he played was hypnotic, and I worried for a moment that he was putting me into some kind of trance – that was exactly what Parker did when he sung, he pulled people in and held them there, like gravity.

  When his mouth opened and the most heartfelt lyrics spilled out, I’d known I was a complete goner.

  He wrote this… about me.

  I couldn’t believe it. The words… they were beautiful. My heart skipped a beat at the realisation that he felt this way about me. It wasn’t even just about the words, his voice was perfect – he could have thrown out some half-assd lyrics about whatever kind of nonsense, and I still would have fallen under his spell.

  I knew I was crying like a baby – something that was totally out of character for me, but I didn’t care. This moment was worth it.

  I also knew somewhere in the back of my mind that thousands of people were witnessing this moment right along with me, but he’d been right, it didn’t matter… it was just me and him now.

  His voice turned husky as he finished the song and stilled in front of me, his blue eyes staring straight into mine.

  There was a moment, just a fraction of a second, of pure, absolute silence. It’s like the crowd was waiting for a reaction from me.

  A hiccupped sob broke free and I laughed.

  Parker gave me a heart-stopping smile.

  The crowd went wild.

  Parker Sloan, ladies and gentleman.

  I watched the last of the show in a daze. The need to claim this man was more than I could handle right now.

  Passion, heat and desire was still building between us. Even now, as he bid farewell to the crowd, I knew his focus was entirely on me. They screamed and yelled, the same way they’d been doing all night, but it was like Parker couldn’t even hear them anymore.

  His eyes sought out mine and locked on like his life depended on it.

  He handed off his guitar to a crew member without even looking at the guy.

  I wanted to scream at him to keep it on. That guitar in his hands was one hell of a turn on. But there would be time for that later, and there was no way I could form words now even if I wanted to.

  He sauntered over to me, more sex and sin than I’d ever been privy to witness.

  As he approached I opened my mouth to speak, not even sure myself of what would come out, but I didn’t get the chance.

  Parker lifted me into his arms and backed me against a sectional wall with a thud. My legs clamped around his waist like an iron vice, but still I didn’t feel close enough. The pressure of his hips held me firmly in place, and I locked my arms around his neck, clinging on even though he more than had me.

  He slanted his mouth over mine in a kiss that was as rough as it was urgent. He tasted of the coke I’d seen him sipping on stage. His tongue thrust into my mouth, persistent and dominating. All I could do was hold on for the ride.

  I hummed deep in my throat.

  He kisses like a God.

  I would have needed to be five kinds of naive not to notice the hard bulge in his pants, I didn’t care if it was me or the thrill of the crowd that had him throbbing, either way, it was mine now.

  “Come to every show,” he growled as he broke away, gasping for air.

  I nodded. “Only if you sing to me,” I breathed.

  “Deal,” he murmured against my neck.

  “Release that song, Parker,” I whispered as he nibbled and teased the skin under my ear.

  He pulled back to look me in the eyes. “You sure? That’s your song, legs.”

  My eyes watered and my heart rate accelerated into overtime. I tucked my face into the crook of his neck and murmured into his skin. “Release the damn song, rock star, the world needs to hear it.”

  “That’s Jim and Pete.” I pointed out the guys, who were still on stage grabbing some of their gear.

  “And this here…” I clapped down on the big man’s shoulder as he approached us. “Is Ricky.”

  Charlotte gave him a warm smile.

  “Ricky, Charlotte, Charlotte, Ricky,” I introduced them with a wave of my hand.

  Ricky shot Charlotte what I’d started to call his ‘full beam’ smile. I’d seen the guy literally charm the pants off women with that thing.

  “Hey, Little Red,” he quipped, teasing her.

  I tensed slightly, expecting Charlotte to chew him out with some of that spit and fire she’d thrown my way when we first met, but she just let out a half snort, half laugh.

  “Like I haven’t heard that one before,” she deadpanned. “If you’re gonna give me a nickname, at least attempt to be original,” she added with an amused gleam in her eye.

  He clutched his chest in a dramatic fashion. “Urgh, you wound me, Little Red.”

  “That’s gonna stick, isn’t it?” she demanded, her hands finding residency on her hips.

  He grinned and nodded enthusiastically. “Like shit to a blanket.”

  “Well, I’d call you ‘Big Rick’…” she drawled. “But we both know how that’s gonna play out.”

  Ricky let out a loud, booming laugh.

  I couldn’t help but join in and laugh at the two of them, ribbing each other like old mates.

  That was Charlotte for you; the girl wasn’t intimidated by anyone. Not even a six-foot, two-hundred-and-forty-pound drummer, with more tattoos than brain cells.

  Ricky let out a big, rumbling laugh. “Cool chick, Park. I’ll have some fun with her.”

  I didn’t even get time to answer before Ricky was calling out to Pete and Jimmy.

  “Petey, Jim-Bob, come meet Little Red.”

  “Motherfucker,” Charlotte muttered, giving Ricky a playful jab in the ribs.

  And just like that, she was part of the family.

  Right where I want her to be.

  “C’mon, Parker, rock my world.” Charlotte giggled from her spot in the booth.

  She’d been going with the rock puns for a solid half hour. It shouldn’t have been funny anymore, but my brain was so far gone on this girl, I couldn’t help but egg her on and join in her silly game.

  “Oh, I’ve got something rock hard for you, babe.” I smirked.

  Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ as her eyes darted between my face and my crotch.

  “Tease,” she muttered under her breath when she realised I was messing with her.

  She snuggled back into my side and eyed up the club scene surrounding us. The boys were all milling around, some of them picking up chicks, some just drinking and watching. This is what happened after every show, for some of the guys, the after party was the highlight of the whole night.

  Charlotte didn’t seem the least bit phased by the hordes of groupies that were hanging around – not that I’d spared any of them a second glance. She seemed totally comfortable here with me, even if we’d barely moved out of our cosy booth.

  I was more than happy to be antisocial tonight.

  Got everything I need right here.

  “I want to play
a game with you,” she whispered in my ear, her breath was warm and smelt of vodka and lemon. I let my gaze travel down the length of her body. She was pure seduction right now and she didn’t even know it. Her dress had ridden up slightly, revealing another inch of her creamy thighs… and those boots.

  God-freakin’-damn.

  Those fuck-me boots would be the death of me.

  “I’m in,” I answered without hesitation.

  She ran a finger down my arm. “It’s called…” She paused dramatically, and a giggle slipped out. “Paper, scissors, rock.”

  I chuckled loudly, shaking my head at myself. “I should have seen it coming.”

  “But yet, you didn’t.” She laughed, thoroughly impressed with herself.

  I must have been ten kinds of messed up over this girl – I was still laughing. It wasn’t necessarily her joke, but hearing her laugh that made me smile.

  “You know I don’t actually play rock music, right?”

  She nodded. “But ‘pop star’ just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” She smirked.

  “I wouldn’t call it pop either, smart-ass.”

  “Hip hop?” she prompted.

  I shook my head.

  “No,” she agreed, shaking her head along with me. “You just don’t fit in any of the boxes.” She feigned disappointment with a pout.

  I grinned. “Well I sure do my best to fit in your box, babe.”

  She laughed long and hard at that. “Touché, Mr. Sloan, touché.”

  She tossed back the rest of her drink and I grinned. Charlotte was well on her way to being drunk. I doubted it was something she did very often, and I was enjoying watching her let her hair down.

  I’ll keep her safe.

  I’d even stopped drinking a couple of hours ago; I was having way more fun watching my girl let loose anyway.

  “Do you think they’d play ‘We Will Rock You’ if I asked?” Charlotte pondered aloud, a shit-eating grin on her face at her latest rock star pun.

  “Okay… time to go you little smart-ass.” I chuckled.

  “No, no, no,” she insisted, her hands flying around in overly large gestures. “Let’s dance,” she slurred, nodding enthusiastically at her own suggestion.

  I chuckled to myself. At this point, I doubted Charlotte could even stand up straight.

  “This club is jumpin’ jumpin’,” she added with a lazy smile.

  “Did you just reference Destiny’s Child?” I asked with a grin.

  Her eyes widened. “Oh my god.” She grabbed my bicep in a death grip, her eyes wide. “Do you know Destiny’s Child?”

  Sweet Jesus.

  “Annnnd, we’re out of here,” I announced.

  “Noooo,” she whined.

  “Yessss,” I replied.

  I won the argument.

  Charlotte was so drunk, she protested with the power of a wet kitten.

  I hoisted her up and slipped my arm around her middle, supporting her weight. It would have been easier to carry her, but I didn’t think Charlotte would have appreciated the whole club witnessing that.

  “Let’s get you home,” I murmured in her ear.

  “Your place,” she demanded.

  The thought of Charlotte in my bed, even just for sleeping – and possibly throwing up, if her current state was anything to go by, gave me a thrill that rivalled playing live.

  “Yeah, babe, my place,” I reassured her as I placed a kiss on the top of her head.

  She gave me a dazzling smile.

  I caught Jasper’s eye across the room. Hannah was standing next to him; something I’d noticed had become a reoccurring theme throughout the night. I gave him a subtle chin lift, and looked at Hannah.

  Get Hannah home safe.

  Jasper responded with a chin lift of his own.

  On it, man.

  We didn’t need words to communicate.

  I could count on J to keep Hannah out of trouble. Although if that look on his face was anything to go by, the two of them would be making trouble together.

  At home…

  In between the sheets.

  “They...” Charlotte pointed lazily in their direction. “Are totally… going to bang.”

  I laughed loudly. Wasted Charlotte was oddly insightful.

  “Wait!” She came to a screaming stop, pulling my arm back with her. “We haven’t got the hulk.” She attempted to swing around and look for Sammy, she was so wobbly on her feet I had to physically catch her to stop her from falling.

  “He’s here, legs, we’re good.” I chuckled at her sudden concern for my burly bodyguard.

  “No, no, no,” she insisted in her drunken slur. “We can’t just leave him here.” Her eyes widened.

  “Legs, he’s right here,” I insisted.

  I didn’t even have to look around to know that Sammy wouldn’t be far behind me. He was the best of the best. He kept a low profile, didn’t miss a single thing, and moved whenever I did. If I asked him to – he stayed behind, but the closest I’d ever gotten to an out-of-control situation, since having Sammy on staff, was the night I met Charlotte. And that was all my own doing – even given my crazy state that night, Sammy and his team had kept things under control.

  “But h—”

  I stifled a laugh. Apparently, Charlotte lost the ability to let things go when she got drunk.

  Sammy chose that moment to make his presence known. “I’m right here, Miss. Now, how about we get you home?”

  “Sammy!” Charlotte crooned, apparently overjoyed that he was in fact very much present and okay.

  She reached out for him and looped her arm through his, much to his surprise. “I was so worried….” she rambled.

  Sammy shot me a ‘what the fuck do I do?’ look, but I just shrugged and laughed.

  Drunken Charlotte had him now.

  Damn…

  Turned out I’d been right about the vomiting.

  We were on round three now, and if I hadn’t seen it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed that Charlotte could hold that much liquid in her tiny body.

  “Do you feel better yet, babe?” I asked as I wiped her face with a cool cloth.

  She nodded. “I’m never drinking again.” She groaned.

  “I’ll second that motion.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled as she tried to push the damp hair off her face.

  I lightly moved her hand away and completed the action for her. “Honestly, Charlotte, as disgusting as this is, I still like taking care of you.”

  She made a noise of disbelief.

  I didn’t blame her. Cleaning up someone else’s vomit wasn’t exactly the top of my to-do list, but I was in over my head with this girl – nothing was off limits.

  “It’s fine, babe,” I reassured her. “You sure you’re feeling better?”

  She nodded in response.

  “Good.” I kissed the top of her head. “Bed.” I lifted her into my arms, her hands lightly holding onto my bare shoulders, her big blue eyes looking up at me with gratitude.

  “I could walk,” she commented quietly.

  I knew she could. I just liked holding her.

  I sat her on the side of the bed. “Strip off,” I instructed as I moved towards my drawers. I found a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt and tossed it back in her direction. “Put that on, legs, I’ll just take a shower.”

  “You should wear no shirt more often,” she replied, her eyes glued firmly to my body as she licked her lips.

  Jesus…

  Keep it together, Sloan.

  The only reason I wasn’t wearing a shirt right now, was because she’d thrown up all down the front of it.

  I shot her a smirk in an attempt to cover my reaction and strode to the bathroom quickly. There was no way in hell I was going to watch her undress. And I couldn’t take much more of her ogling me like that without reacting.

  Not tonight.

  Charlotte wasn’t up to it, and I knew myself well enough to know that my self-control would snap if I saw w
hat she had on under that dress.

  Even if we both smell like puke… I still want her.

  I showered quickly and slipped back into the room wearing only my boxer briefs.

  Charlotte’s light snores filled the room.

  She was curled up in my bed, her red hair a dark, wild mass against my white pillows.

  My heart tightened in my chest at the sight. I’d imagined Charlotte in my bed, in a variety of different scenarios, but no matter how hot or heavy my fantasies got, nothing even came close to this.

  I slipped under the covers, being careful not to wake her and curled myself around her body.

  “Goodnight, beautiful, this is only the beginning,” I whispered to her.

  I woke up with a groan.

  Where the hell am I?

  I froze as I realized I was pressed up against a warm body.

  Not just any body.

  A hard as rock, toasty warm, very male body if the stone length nudging against my ass was anything to go by…

  I lifted the covers slowly and relaxed as soon as I recognized Parker’s tattoos.

  And this is why I don’t drink.

  I couldn’t remember much past arriving at the club for the after party. I could remember teasing Parker with rock puns… something about Destiny’s Child…

  Oh hell.

  I groaned again.

  This was not good. There was a high chance I’d made a total fool of myself in front of a whole room of people, Parker included.

  A deep chuckle took me by surprise.

  I turned slowly so I could look at him, he slid over a fraction to give me room to turn, but he didn’t let go of me.

  I groaned yet again as my eyes took in the sight before me.

  That is not fair.

  He looked like he’d had a stylist come over, muss him up to sexy perfection and then leave again.

  I was willing to bet money on the fact that I looked like something the cat had dragged in.

  I was that wasted last night, I knew there wasn’t a chance I would have cleaned my face and I was willing to bet my hair would be doing some crazy morning-after business too.