Passionate Addiction

by Eden Summers

  She frowned, endeavoring to suppress the mix of jealousy and distaste toward the woman who dragged Blake into the world of drugs. “What does that mean?”

  He squeezed her tighter, and she noticed the way his skin paled at her question. “She calls sometimes, whenever the band’s in the spotlight, usually. I’ve learned to screen my calls and delete her messages without listening to them.”

  Gabi snuggled back against his chest, not wanting to announce her insecurity. Michelle would always be a part of his life—a big part of his past, anyway. And although Gabi no longer saw the beauty in the heiress’s features, she wasn’t certain if Blake did.

  “When was the last time?” She kept her voice low, masking the way her body vibrated with dread. Each passing second compounded her anxiety, until it was a tight ball in her stomach. She concentrated on the way his heart pounded through his chest and closed her eyes, willing him to respond.

  “Last night,” his voice was a whisper.

  Her heart stopped. “What? When?” She sat up straight to look at him. “Before you came to the club?”

  He winced and shook his head. “No. After we were together.”

  Bile rose in her throat, and she grabbed at the charms on her necklace, working them back and forth to occupy herself and ease the jealousy taking hold. She had nothing to worry about. Blake loved her. He’d said so last night. After all they’d been through, all the trust he’d given her, all the skeletons he’d revealed, the least she could do was trust him.

  “She was the one that called before I fell asleep?”

  He paused with his arm still snaked around her waist. “Yeah.”

  And he’d answered. She’d heard him say hello before she drifted off.

  Gabi gave a shaky nod and pushed from his lap. Plastering a smile on her face, she turned to face him. “So, how about that drink? What would you like?”

  She would appreciate a shot of vodka right about now. Even scotch would do. The burn would take her mind away from Michelle. She wouldn’t beg for a play-by-play recount. If he didn’t want to talk about it, that was fine. She could deal. No problem.

  He grabbed her hand and entwined their fingers as he brought it to his lips. He peered up at her, his pain clearly evident in the dark depths of his eyes. “You have nothing to worry about, angel. I don’t want anything to do with her.”

  She would probably believe that if she didn’t know every intimate detail of his relationship with his ex. He’d been in love. His first love, and that wasn’t something you easily forgot.

  Gabi nodded, this time with more enthusiasm. She needed to step away, to take a breath and put things into perspective. He was here with her. She had to remember that.

  “I know.” Her voice was upbeat, and still, he winced. He was too perceptive for his own good. “So did you want orange juice with breakfast? I’ll place the order for our meals while I’m at the bar.”

  ***

  The guilt at withholding information on Michelle burned Blake’s throat. He could see Gabi’s anguish, could sense her anxiety. Damn it, her hands were even shaking. Cutting the conversation short seemed like the only way to stop the carnage. He’d kept that part of his life from her for years. Not that it was a secret; he just didn’t see the point in worrying her unnecessarily. Michelle’s calls were a nuisance, nothing more, and for once, he wanted to fix his own problems, without dumping it on Gabi.

  “Juice, thanks,” he answered.

  Trust him to fuck up every moment they spent together. It came naturally. His karma cycle struggled to cope with too much of a good thing and liked to throw life bombs at him wherever possible.

  “OK, I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He dropped her hand and swiveled in his chair to watch her leave. Christ, he loved her, from those cute little sandals, all the way up her smooth, toned legs and beyond. Inside and out, every inch was made for him.

  “Hey, Gabi,” he called when she reached the bar.

  She turned to face him, along with the female bar attendant and numerous people on surrounding tables. Her smile was sweet and sparkled in her eyes this time, instead of the fake tilt of her lips she’d sported for the last five minutes.

  He grinned at her. “I love you.”

  He blocked out the murmurs from strangers and focused exclusively on Gabi. Her eyes widened, glinting in the fluorescent light. Her cheeks lifted, darkening those beautiful, kissable lips. Before she could reply, he winked and pivoted in his chair to face the table, giving her his back. He wasn’t looking for a response. His work here was done.

  By his estimation, he’d hit her punk-ass love declaration rules out of the ballpark. Just try and tell me that one didn’t count, little miss.

  Two minutes later she returned with their drinks, slid into her chair, and rewarded him with her dazed expression.

  “So, did that pass the rules and regulations?” He raised a brow and reached for his drink.

  Her eyes were glowing, glazed with what he hoped was happiness. “Ah…yeah.” She nodded in quick jerks and fumbled with her straw before taking a large draw of O.J. “That one definitely counts.”

  The heavy lump of heat in his chest felt better than anything he’d ever experienced before. He loved the physical release of sex, had experienced the consuming bliss that came from a drug high, yet nothing could compare to the clear-headed, emotional paradise currently flowing into every inch of his being.

  He reached for her hand, needing to show her by touch what he couldn’t explain with words. Before their fingers met, his phone vibrated in his pocket. A second later, the familiar guitar riff ringtone filled the silence.

  Gabi’s face fell, the happiness vanishing from her features as she looked away and cleared her throat.

  “It’s probably Mason.” He retrieved the cell from his pants pocket and felt a giddy sense of relief when the band front-man’s name stared back at him from the screen. “Do you mind if I take this?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not at all.”

  Liar. Fragility had settled into her voice. He couldn’t believe Michelle still had the ability to mess with his life. Hadn’t he paid enough for those sins? Obviously not.

  Christ, Michelle hadn’t even been a blip on his radar in the last few years. Her phone call had been bad timing, one of those random connections that she liked to throw his way on a whim…or more accurately—while high. All he could do was look on the bright side. They’d discussed his ex, and he’d learned it’d be a topic to keep to himself in the future. He would never lie to Gabi, however, not mentioning things that he knew would upset her was different.

  He pressed connect and raised the cell to his ear. “Hey, pretty boy.”

  “Hey yourself, asshole,” Mason replied. “How’s the heat down under?”

  He glanced at Gabi, her gaze still downcast. “Not too bad,” he lied, knowing Mason wasn’t talking about the weather.

  “Not too bad? That sounds like a fucking let down. What’s wrong with her? She doesn’t like the emo look?”

  Emo. The jokes never end.

  “I’m not fucking emo,” Blake bit back, then let go of his annoyance once he noticed Gabi grinning.

  “Yeah, OK, whatever. So, when do we get to meet her?”

  He raised a brow. The Reckless Beat guys—not only the band, but the roadies and their manager, Leah—were his family. The only family worth meeting, anyway. Introducing the gang to Gabi would be a big step. One he couldn’t wait to take. “Hopefully soon. We haven’t discussed it yet.”

  “Well, get your shit into gear. We’re already in the air.”

  “And you’re talking on your cell?”

  “Yeah, the naughty flight attendant gave me the all clear if I was quick,” Mason’s tone turned slutty, something Blake didn’t appreciate while he was on the other end of the line.

  “That’d be a first. Usually the ladies are pissed at how fast you are.”

  “Oh, ha ha ha, very funny pin dick. But no, this lovely lad
y is very generous.”

  “She’s standing right beside you, isn’t she?”

  “Totally… Anyway, Mitch and I have something planned in Melbourne tomorrow and we need you there.”

  Blake frowned. “What’ve you planned? Mitch didn’t mention anything to me.”

  The lead guitarist was the closest thing Blake had to a brother. They usually paired up on tour and spent most of their time sharing suites and sometimes women. That all changed when Mitch’s girlfriend, Alana, entered the picture. Now Blake had the duty of making himself scarce or ramming plugs into his ear canal to stop himself from overhearing all their panted cries to the heavenly father.

  “It’s secret squirrel stuff. And you’ve gotta be there.” The phone connection crackled. “Bring yo—girl.”

  “You’re cutting out. Can you get Leah to email me the details of our hotel? I’ll try and get a flight to Melbourne tonight.”

  Gabi’s head snapped up and the slight crease in her brow deepened. He smiled at her, trying to wordlessly explain that everything would be all right.

  “Will do. Catch ya soon.”

  Blake ended the call and placed his cell on the table. “How do you feel about a trip to Melbourne?”

  “I’d love to…but I have to work tomorrow.”

  “You sure about that?” He grinned at her narrowed gaze. “I asked Tammy to arrange for you to get time off work. I never heard back from her though, so you’ll need to check.”

  Gabi reached into her handbag. “You thought of everything, didn’t you?”

  Not even close. He only hoped Tammy had been successful in organizing something with Gabi’s shifts. He wasn’t ready to leave her. He doubted he ever would be.

  “I organized for Janice to take your shifts on Monday and Tuesday. And the boss arranged for someone else to be on call for those nights,” Tammy answered over the phone.

  Wow. That came from left field. Gabi usually had her finger on the pulse, especially when it came to work. She part-time managed the apartment building she lived in, and handling the allocation of shifts was one of her duties. She also spent most evenings and weekends on call for tenant emergencies, which made up for the hours she needed to study and attend class for her degree. How had she not realized Tammy was Blake’s undercover agent?

  “And the boss didn’t care?” Gabi asked. “Are you sure I’m going to have a job when I get back?”

  “Don’t fret. It’ll be fine and you already have Wednesday off on annual leave...”

  The uncomfortable silence that followed crawled under Gabi’s skin. Every year she made sure she didn’t have to work on the fourth day after her birthday. The anniversary of her brother’s death was always spent with her parents.

  “Great.” She forced a chipper tone. “Thank you for organizing everything. You’re a champ.”

  “So, are you going to give me details?”

  Gabi laughed. She’d expected the question sooner. “Nope.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  She lowered her voice. Even though she stood outside while Blake had gone to pay for their meals, she didn’t want to be overheard gossiping. “Far from it.”

  “Well then, spill, woman! You’re killing me.”

  “I don’t want to make you jealous,” Gabi whispered over a bubble of contained laughter.

  “Jealous of what?” Blake asked.

  She gasped at his whispered voice so close to her ear and melted into his chest when he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

  “I’ve gotta go, Tam. We’ll catch up later in the week.”

  Blake kissed the curve of her neck and ran his hand under the front of her shirt, teasing the low of her belly with his fingers.

  “You can’t leave me hangin’ like that! Come on. At least give me a few juicy details,” Tammy begged.

  Gabi withheld a moan while Blake’s touch slid over her skin. They were in broad daylight, in the middle of a busy thoroughfare, and all she could think of were his hands moving higher to cup her breasts, to tweak her nipples.

  “Can’t… Gotta go… Sorry.” She disconnected the call, threw her phone into her handbag, and turned within Blake’s arms. The sight of him—his heavy lidded eyes and lips mere inches from her own—stole her breath.

  “Who were you making jealous?” He leaned in and nuzzled her cheek.

  Her head fell to the side, giving him better access to work his magic. “None of your business,” she moaned.

  “How can I make it my business?” he murmured.

  Something sparked to life inside her, something heated and fluttery and overwhelming. She wanted nothing more than her whole life to be his business. For them to share everything. However, the distance between their lives made it seem unobtainable.

  “Blake.” She straightened, needing his attention to be able to read his eyes.

  He didn’t pull his lips away from her neck. “Hmm?” He kissed her again, delicate and light. “What will it take, angel?” His hands slid around her waist to grip her ass. “For me to be your everything?”

  She closed her eyes and shuddered. Pleasure overtook her—at his words, his touch, his emotion. He brought her to life, but she knew that would fade once they were no longer together. The thought was too much to bear.

  “What’s going to happen to us once I come back from Melbourne?” she asked.

  He stopped kissing her. “You’re coming to Melbourne?” He straightened and slid his hands to her waist.

  She nodded up at him. “Yes.”

  His eyes flashed. “Is it too much to ask you to come home with me?”

  Her heart squeezed at the vulnerability in his tone. She wished it was as easy as listening to her heart and saying, “yes.”

  Gabi couldn’t leave. Not so soon, anyway. Her Bachelor of Hospitality Management was mere months from completion. And she needed to graduate. She had to graduate. Six years of part-time education, including six months of overseas study and one deferred year to recover from Greg’s death, and she was ready for this stage of her life to be over.

  “Blake, I’d love to, but you know I can’t. Not yet.” It wasn’t like she hadn’t dreamed of running away with him for years. She would give up her world to be with him, if only he would wait a little longer.

  “I know.” He shot her a sad smile. “I didn’t expect you to. It was more of a wish, I suppose.”

  You’re killin’ me.

  He was so strong, so loyal to his friends, and still he didn’t believe his own worth. If only he knew she’d been mentally planning their wedding and picking out baby names since they first started voice Skyping. Moving to America wasn’t an issue.

  Placing her hands around his neck, she peered up at him, staring into those dark eyes until she had his full attention. “I would move to be with you.”

  Hope flickered in his irises and he bit his lip, waiting.

  “I just can’t do it right now. I need to finish my degree. But after that…”

  He cupped her face, searching her expression, reaching into her soul to take another tiny piece of her. “You’d move for me?”

  There went her heart again, aching at his vulnerability. “I’d do anything for you.”

  A kaleidoscope of emotions flickered in his features—disbelief, awe, happiness, and then his cocky persona settled back into place, and a wide grin tilted his lips. “I might have to test that theory.”

  She raised her chin, ignoring the way he hid behind a thin veil of arrogance, and pulled the strap of her handbag higher on her shoulder. “Test away.”

  ***

  “Teach me to surf.”

  It sounded like a good test at the time—he was in Queensland, Australia, the place of the mighty surf and scorching sun. Now, he’d gone well past second guessing the profound stupidity of his suggestion. What had he been thinking? Well, he’d been thinking exactly what any guy would’ve been thinking. Gabi in a bathing suit? Rock on!

  What Blake hadn’t anticipated was the unrestrai
ned erection tenting his swim trunks or the mass of people staring at him. Women, children, even men.

  “Just lie on the board and pretend you’re paddling.” Gabi bent over above him, her feet at the head of the board, her delicious rack tempting the unyielding shit out of him. “Then what I want you to do is, jump up—”

  “Gabi, this isn’t gonna work,” he muttered.

  Not even the discomfort of sand scratching his stomach could lessen the eagerness of his cock. He doubted an electric sander against his balls would. There was no way he could “jump up” in his current state without scandalizing the locals.

  “It’s easy. All you have to do—” She bent lower, her breasts hovering above his head.

  Yeah, get Gabi in a public place, dressed in a teeny, tiny, black string bikini. Fucking brilliant idea.

  “Gabi,” he growled and leaned on his elbows to look up at her. “If you don’t get the twins outta my face, I’m going to fuck you where you stand. You got me?”

  She stared at him wide-eyed, her tongue sliding out to moisten her curving lips. The sight alone had him squeezing his eyes closed.

  “I’m not sure about US law, but that’s totally illegal here,” she whispered with a chuckle.

  “I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.”

  Her laughter increased, and when he opened his eyes again, her taunting mounds of flesh were jiggling up and down, her nipples hard and beading against the thin material of her bathing suit.

  “You were warned.” He pushed off the board, moving to stand in a rush, and swept her off her feet.

  She squealed and swung her delicate arms around his neck. As he ran into the waves, her hold tightened, her squeal turning into demands to put her down. He ignored her until his third leg was out of view, doused by the warm Australian water.

  He concentrated on the waves. The sound of the ocean distracted him, and the hot midday sun made the tainted darkness inside him a little brighter. He’d never felt so at home. Even in a foreign country, with a woman he’d seen for the first time last night, his heart felt full.

  He’d never truly belonged. Anywhere. In high school, he’d been the poor kid with the dead-beat parents. Other students teased him about his secondhand clothes and barely wearable shoes. Close friends had been hard to come by, and even those tended to stab him in the back when he needed them the most.