“But what if I don’t want to give it up just because you can’t be around it? What if I want something different from life than you do?” I asked, thinking about how much she enjoyed the spotlight, how she needed to be the center of attention while all I wanted to do was sit home and play my guitar in front of a fire with Blanche and Dorothy lounging at my feet.
“Are you telling me that a bottle of whiskey is more important to you than I am?” she asked as her eyes brimmed with tears. Eyes, I couldn’t help but notice, were the same amber color as the whiskey I’d been drinking when she’d come in.
I knew if I answered “yes” that’d be the end of us. That I’d never see her again. And while a clean break is what I wanted for her sake, I’d already hurt her enough for one lifetime. I didn’t need to break her in the process as well. I couldn’t be the reason she picked up a bottle again. I was a heartless dick; I wasn’t cruel.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” I said, grabbing the bottle and pushing up off the sofa.
I crossed the room to a locked cabinet and punched in the secret code. The doors swung open, revealing a cache of weapons and several bottles of good liquor. I’d hidden them away when I’d decided to bring Rae up here. During her stay here, I’d indulged in a few drinks, but I’d always made sure there was no trace of the liquor on my breath or my lips. Her sobriety was important to me because she was important to me. Even if I had a shit way of showing it.
Then why are you tempting her with that shit now? my subconscious snarled.
Because I knew the only way I could get her to leave would be if she thought she was in danger. And since she already knew I’d give my life to protect her, this was the only other way. She had to walk out of my house, secure in the knowledge that leaving was what was best for her. Knowing that if she stayed, she might wind up right where she’d been before.
She had to be afraid to stay.
“Then what are you saying?”
With my back still to her, I dropped my head forward. “I’m saying we’re through.”
“No!” she screamed, throwing a paperweight at my head. It missed and knocked a frame off the wall instead. The glass shattered all over my carpet. “You turn around and look me in the face when you break my heart, Ash Devereaux. You don’t get to be a coward. Not now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”
I squared my shoulders and turned around … and my heart broke. Rae was standing there with tears falling freely, her whole body trembling.
“You look me in the eye, and you tell me you don’t love me. You watch what you’re doing to me when you tell me you don’t want me anymore.”
“I don’t—” I groaned and linked my fingers together at the back of my head. “I can’t … Goddamn it, Rae. We’re not good for each other.”
“Why?” she asked, falling to her knees. “Tell me what I did to deserve this?”
Ignoring the pain in my side, I reached Rae in three strides and dropped down in front of her. Gathering her against me, I rocked us back and forth. “Shh,” I cooed, “don’t cry.”
“Fuck you,” she mumbled from within the confines of my embrace. “You’re breaking my heart right now, so I’ll cry if I damn well want to.”
Ah, there’s my girl, I thought. Even as Rae was crumbling from the inside out, she was going down fighting. She might think I was breaking her, but she was stronger than that. She could endure anything. In fact, she’d endured much, much worse and made it out alive.
Just barely, that voice inside my head piped up needlessly.
Eventually, her tears dried up, and she pushed against my chest. Wiping her face dry with the backs of her hands, she looked me square in the eye. “Why, Ash? Just tell me why and then I’ll go. I need to understand what I did wrong. I can’t walk out that door without knowing.”
I dropped my hands between my thighs. “It’s not you, Rae. It’s me.”
She hiccupped and rolled her eyes. “Oh god, not the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse.”
I winced. It hadn’t sounded like that in my head, but she had a valid point. “Okay, how about it’s not me, it’s you.”
“Well, at least we’re finally getting somewhere,” she said, lowering herself to the carpet and crossing her legs in some twisted pretzel yoga pose I’d seen her fall into countless times.
I wrung my hands in front of me, hating that I had to admit I wasn’t man enough for her. But it needed to be done. I took a deep breath and let it out. “The truth is, you’re too much. Your star burns too bright, Rae. You need things I can’t give you.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked, her head canted to the side.
“I saw you at the hospital,” I explained. “You were lit up like a candle when you were signing autographs and posing for pictures. You love it, and I don’t want to keep you from that. You live in Hollywood, I live here, out in the woods like a fucking hermit.”
Rae shook her head. “You stupid, stupid man,” she whispered. “I hate that shit, but it’s called being a professional. And it’s called making sure all those people liked me and wanted to protect my privacy, and by extension, yours. It’s giving them a piece of me so they didn’t walk right out those doors and call TMZ to tell them I was there visiting my boyfriend who’d been shot.” She scooted out from her pose and crawled over to me. “The truth is, what I really love is sitting here with you. The quiet. The solitude. The fact that I don’t have to be anyone other than who I am underneath all the glitz and glamour.”
I loved hearing that, but it didn’t change the reality of her world. “That doesn’t change things though, does it? You can’t leave all that behind. Especially not now.”
“Who says I can’t?” she asked, climbing into my lap and throwing her arms over my shoulders. “It’s not like I can go back to my house. I’m homeless, Ash. Are you really going to kick me out?” She nuzzled into my neck, her lips tracing over the pulse beating strong in my neck. “Can’t I stay here?”
Oh shit. I groaned and kept my hands locked at my sides. If I moved them even an inch, this conversation would end, and not with a resolution. It’d conclude with my cock down her throat or buried deep in her delicious cunt. And while I would normally welcome either scenario, now was not the time. A lot of things could be solved with a quick, hard fuck, but this wasn’t one of them.
“Rae, stop.” She bit my neck and sucked the skin into her wet, hot mouth, marking me. “Fuck, baby. You really need to stop that.”
“If I don’t?” she asked, skating her palm down to my lap where she cupped my cock in her hand, making me instantly hard. “Will you punish me?” she teased seductively, trailing feather-light kisses up my jaw. “Will you put me over your knee and spank me?”
Shit, yes. That’s exactly what I wanted to do. But I didn’t think I was up for it, physically. I didn’t trust my stitches not to rupture as I brought my palm to her ass cheek with a heavy slap.
“Rae.”
“Please, Ash. Punish me. Mark me. Keep me.”
She straddled me, and I let out a moan when she slipped her hand into my pants and squeezed my cock.
“Be rough me with Ash. Please, I need it. I need you.”
“I can’t, baby,” I said from between gritted teeth. “I want to, but I can’t.”
Her hand stilled, and a tiny sob escaped from between her lips as she tried to shimmy off my lap.
I banded my arm around her waist. “No, don’t go. I didn’t mean it like that. I physically can’t. I want nothing more than to give you everything you’re asking for, but the doctor was pretty clear on that.”
“Oh! I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” She dropped her head to my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m so selfish, I just thought …”
“What did you think?”
“I thought if you dominated me, if you remembered what it was like between us, you’d keep me. You’d remember what we have, and you’d want to fight for it.”
“I know exactly what we hav
e,” I told her, my voice turning to steel. “Don’t ever doubt that.”
She sat up with tears pooling in her eyes and her lip trembling. “Then why do you want me to go? Why are you trying to send me away?”
“I told you, Rae. I’m no good for you. I’ll just hold you back.”
She shook her head emphatically, as if she could sense my resolve crumbling and if she was forceful enough, she could turn it to dust through simple will. “You won’t. I won’t let that happen.”
I didn’t know if she was aware that as she spoke, her hips mindlessly undulated over me, sending a fresh swell of blood straight to my cock. Oh god, what I wouldn’t give to have my cock in her pussy right now. Rae was right. It was good between us. So, so good. It had never been like this for me with any other woman. I’d spent years being faithful to Sonia, and she’d treated me like garbage. We’d never had a future, and yet I’d fought like hell for her. I’d given her years to prove her love for me, so why couldn’t I give Rae the same?
Because you don’t want to get hurt again. Because you always knew things were going to end badly between you and Sonia. Your real fear isn’t Rae leaving you; it’s her NOT leaving. It’s the fear of being happy together, of having a future with this woman. That when all is said and done, she’s your other half and that fucking terrifies you.
And there it was. The truth of why I was trying to push her away. And it was all fucking bullshit. Rae was my soul; I would die without her. And, I knew, she was less than who she could be without me. Together, we were more than the sum of our parts. Together we were whole.
“Oh fuck. I don’t care what the doctor said,” I groaned, slipping my hands between us and down the front of her pants to find her pussy wet, her clit hard. “Take this off and ride my cock.”
Rae jumped off my lap and tugged her pants off. She threw them behind her, and in seconds, she’d straddled my thighs again. And then, in the span of two heartbeats, her fiery heat was enveloping me as she sank down the length of cock with a ragged sigh. Her head fell back. “Fuck,” she moaned. “You feel so good.”
With frantic hands, I gripped her hips and guided her movements. Fast, fast, fast. I could feel a slight pull in my stitches, but I didn’t care. The pain was worth it. I needed to be inside of this woman always. Rae’s pussy milking my cock was the best fucking feeling in the world. “That’s it. Ride me. Ride me hard.”
“Oh god,” she sang. “Oh god, oh god. I’m coming.”
“Come all over my cock, baby. Just like that. Right there.”
Rae’s pussy gripped my dick like a vice as her orgasm ripped through her. Her mouth opened in a silent “O” and her eyes went glassy as she rode the wave to shore. And with another driving thrust of my hips, I joined her with a shout.
We collapsed onto the floor in a heap of tangled limbs. “Does this mean I get to stay?” she asked.
I cradled her against my good side. “If you tried to leave, I’d drag you back by your hair and tie you up in my basement.”
“You don’t have a basement,” she laughed. “But I like the sound of the rest of it.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rae
EPILOGUE
** Two Years Later **
“Rae! Rae! Over here! Who are you wearing?”
“More like what are you wearing?” Ash growled in my ear as he set his hand on my lower back and guided me down the red carpet. I’d chosen a shimmery dress that was business in the front, but a complete party in the back. Well, that was, if there had been a back. Given how little material actually existed on this thing, it weighed a ton.
“Hush,” I said with a smirk. “You love this dress.” Turning to the reporter, I said, “Bianca Lopez. It’s an original. You like?”
The reporter whistled and asked me to turn so the cameraman could shoot the back. “Wow,” she said, when I wheeled back around. “That’s stunning.”
I stroked my hands down the front. It really was. “Thank you. I’ll tell her you said so.”
Ash and I moved on to the next reporter, a wolfish smile splitting his lips. “One thing’s for sure. I can’t complain about its easy access,” he said, dropping his fingers down beneath the loose fabric at the base of my spine to stroke the cleft between my ass cheeks.
I yelped, and a few eyes turned our way. Before they could see what had caused my outburst, Ash’s hand was back where it belonged. “I guarantee every dude in this place is holding his breath, praying that tiny little clasp around your neck comes undone.”
I giggled and rolled my eyes. There was no way in hell that was happening. Bianca and I had put the diamond and emerald brooch through the ringer. The only way it was coming undone was if someone took an axe to it. That, or if Ash flipped all the carefully concealed locks embedded in the design.
“Chase Triggs isn’t,” I said, notching my chin toward a too-cool-for-school twenty-four year old pop star who had an Amazonian model draped on each of his arms.
“Yeah, maybe not,” Ash agreed, eyeing the women appreciatively before turning back to me. “He looks like he has his hands full.”
And that was exactly what Chase wanted everyone to think. We’d been in rehab together and had formed an unlikely friendship not many knew about. I had no problem talking to Ash about my experience with rehab, but there was no way I’d ever tell him about the people I’d met there in more than an abstract way. The truth was, Chase’s whole sex god thing was all an act. He was actually gay, and very much in love with his childhood best friend. Unfortunately for Chase, said friend was as straight as they came, and had no clue his friend had been harboring a lifelong crush on him. Hence, how he’d ended up in rehab. The stories we had shared about all the stupid shit we’d done trying to numb our pain would make your head spin. Maybe someday when Chase settled down and found happiness, I would introduce him to Ash. Until then, I raised a finger, catching his eye. He smiled and rolled his eyes, as if to say, “Can you believe this shit?” I shook my head and blew him a kiss.
“What was that?” Ash asked as we strolled to our next stopping point in the press line. Flashbulbs clicked, momentarily blinding me, but I kept a smile glued to my face.
“Nothing. Just trying to itch in my nose without actually touching it. I don’t want someone to take a picture and it look like I’m picking my nose.”
Ash reached out and scratched the tip of my nose. “Better?”
“Um, now it’s going to look like you’re picking my nose.”
He bopped me on the nose with the tip of his finger. “No one is going to see a picture of me touching your nose and think I’m rooting around for boogers.”
I chuckled. “No, they’ll probably think you’re wiping coke from it instead.”
Ash glared at me. “Not funny, Rae.”
I shrugged. “No, it’s not. But likely true.”
He continued glaring through the remainder of our photos. Ash had that whole silent and mysterious thing going for him, so not many would question the dark look in his eyes. And those who did would take one look at his bio and nod knowingly. My husband was a fucking bad ass. “It’s been years,” he said out the side of his mouth when we stepped down into the holding area.
“And people have long memories,” I countered as we followed an usher to our seats a few rows back from the stage. Being seated effectively ended our conversation, which was fine by me.
For the next hour, we sat through a handful of awards and performances. And then, during a commercial break, we slipped away and made our way backstage to a dressing room where we encountered Bianca waiting with a different dress I’d wear on stage when I performed.
“Turn, chica,” she said, twirling her finger. I did as she commanded, and she worked the intricate clasp free. From behind her, one of her assistants tossed Ash a white t-shirt.
A few minutes later, I had on a short silver sequined skirt topped by a plain black tank. It was actually one of Ash’s that Bianca had tailored to fit me like a glove. She cou
ld have made one for me in a few minutes, but I loved the idea of wearing something of his while singing about our life together. And the juxtaposition of hard and soft, glam and laid back, looked so cool. As a last step, I pulled my hair from its high bun, and it cascaded down my back in caramel waves.
The stagehand passed me my guitar, while another delivered Ash’s to his. And then we took to the stage, side by side—me standing, Ash perched on a stool—and everything went silent for one calm beat before a fluttering of whispers and murmurs rippled through the crowd. I smiled down at an acquaintance in the front row who looked at me agog. Our secret was out.
Two weeks after Ash got out of the hospital, I pulled him into the studio and played him a new song. It wasn’t about Ford, or drinking, or fucking nameless, faceless men. Well, it kind of was. It was about how Ash had come into my life and then surreptitiously worked his way into my heart. I’d long said I didn’t believe in fate, but lately I was rethinking that stance. There was no way to explain our coming together that second time. Ash was supposed to be in my life, and I was supposed to be in his. We were two halves of the same coin. Two broken pieces that when pushed together formed a mended whole.
And that was the theme of the album I eventually delivered to my label. And our big secret? Ash played and sang on each and every one of the thirteen songs that had made the cut. It wasn’t my album; it was ours. Except, of course, Ash had refused to take credit for any of it. In the end, I’d given in and his contributions had been glossed over. When the press had asked about the heartfelt and emotional duets, Rocky had evasively told them that Nashville was filled with many talented, undiscovered musicians. Of course, we’d never set foot in Nashville while recording, but no one needed to know that.
Until now.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for letting me back up on this stage tonight. It means the world to me to be here again,” I said into the microphone.
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