As I struggled to take in everything Britt was saying, an unwieldy flux of emotions churned inside of me. I felt the sudden, unmistakable sting of tears in my eyes as I realized that she was telling the truth. I was falling in love with Jackson, and it was the worst thing I could possibly do. Getting hurt was inevitable, but so was falling for him. I was doomed. I was no different than these girls, after all.
“Alexa?” Annabelle said softly, laying her palm against my cheek. “Oh, Alexa, please don’t cry. It will be OK. You learn how to live with the hurt, after awhile. One way or another, you go on. I promise.”
“Yeah,” I said, speaking around the lump in my throat, “Yeah, that’s...OK. Great. Thanks for the talk! I’m, uh...I’m just going to take a little walk, or something.”
I scrambled up from the couch and hurried away from Annabelle, keeping my eyes away from the groupies as I fled. My feet carried me out of the crowded suite, and soon I was running down the unfamiliar corridors, not caring whether I could find my way back. The tears were streaming down my face, leaving dark rivulets as they went. But I didn’t care, I couldn’t bear to think of it. I just needed a second, one single moment, to be alone.
When the shouting and pumping music had finally faded away behind me, I slowly drew to a stop. Hugging myself tightly, I let my back slide down against the corridor wall. I crumpled onto the floor and drew my knees into my chest, wishing that I could become invisible. The enormity of my terrible decision suddenly hit me. What the hell was I doing there? I was practically half-naked, dressed up as someone I wasn’t, crying in the hallway of a foreign hotel, drunk, and sad, and lonely. Why hadn’t I trusted my rational mind and stayed in the States like a good girl? I should have stuck to my guns and turned down his offer. I should have been smart—being smart was what I was good at!
But I couldn’t have refused him. As much as I hated to admit it, there was no way that I could ever say “no” to Jackson Brent. If he had been touring Antarctica instead of Europe, I would have packed my parka. If he’d asked me to be his guitar caddy, I would have followed after him like a lost puppy, toting his instruments on his back. I would have done anything to keep him in my life, if for only a few weeks. Annabelle was right—I was falling in love with him. Hell, I’d already fallen, hard. And there was nothing I could do about it.
Chapter Eight
“Why couldn’t I have just fallen for a banker?” I muttered, letting my head fall back against the wall. “Why can’t I just love a regular man?”
A soft sound interrupted my pity party. The thin, beautiful ringing flitted through the empty hallway like a cool breeze. I sat up, straining my ears to figure out where it was coming from. At the end of the hall, I could see a light shining from under a door—that had to be the source. Wiping my eyes inelegantly on my tee shirt, I pulled myself up to standing and tiptoed toward the door. As I approached, I realized that the sound was music. It was a song, of sorts—a sad song, full of regret and melancholy. The melody tugged at my heartstrings with every note, and though I’d never heard it before, the song sounded familiar somehow. Like maybe I’d dreamed it, or heard it once in another life.
I drew up before the door and softly rested my ear against it. Someone was playing the guitar in there—no recording could ever capture the depths of what I was hearing. I wondered what sad, soulful musician was plucking and strumming away so stunningly. With a burst of courage and curiosity, I decided to find out. I grasped the doorknob and twisted until it clicked.
As I pushed the door open, the song swelled up around me, unfiltered. I peeked into the dimly lit room, searching for the source of the music. As I squinted into the darkness, I could make out a shape sitting on the bed. His back was to me, so for a moment I couldn’t tell who it might be. But then he turned his head, pushed the darks curls away from his face, and the shock of his bright blue eyes froze my blood.
“Jackson?” I whispered into the darkness.
He looked up, startled. The song cut out, and I was unduly sad to feel it go. Jackson turned toward me on the bed, his guitar still resting on his lap. For a long moment, neither of us said a word. He was wearing an expression I’d never seen before. For once, there was no arrogant smile on his lips, no mischief in his eyes. He looked sad. Bruised. Infinitely human.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said, lowering my gaze.
“It’s OK,” he said. “I just needed to be away from those people for a while.”
“Yeah,” I said, “I don’t know how you keep this up.”
“Me either, sometimes,” he said. “Look at you. Standing in the doorway like a kid at the principal’s office. Come in, why don’t you.”
I stepped into the room and let the door click shut behind me. A tiny bedside lamp was the only source of light, and the sharp shadows only intensified Jackson’s strong, beautiful features.
“I heard you playing,” I said, “Jackson...It was beautiful.”
“Thanks,” he said, “I was just fucking around.”
“That wasn’t fucking around,” I said, taking a tentative step toward him, “That was just...genius. I had no idea you even owned an acoustic guitar.”
“It’s a classical guitar, actually,” he said, “But classical guitar doesn’t sell out arenas.”
“It might, if you were playing,” I said, smiling. He glanced up at me, and let the tiniest of smiles grace his lips.
“What are you doing over here anyway?” he asked, “Aren’t you enjoying the party?”
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret about me,” I said, leaning back against the dresser, “I’m not really a party girl.”
“What?” he said, widening his eyes in mock astonishment. “You?”
“I know. Crazy, right?” I laughed.
His face tightened as if in pain as he looked at me. “I owe you an apology, Alexa,” he said quietly.
“No,” I said quickly, “No, don’t worry about it. Whatever—”
“I’ve been treating you like trash, and you don’t...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you on the bus. You’re free to do as you like with whomever you like.”
“Oh...” I said, my heart twisting in my chest. “I thought you meant...”
“What?” Jackson said, “What were you expecting me to say?”
I drew in a deep breath, summoned my courage. “I thought you were going to apologize for leading me on. I thought, after the plane, and...I thought that you might be interested in me.”
“Yes,” Jackson said, looking at me in the darkness.
“But...You’re not, really,” I said, “Are you?”
He stared at me with those piercing eyes for a long moment. With a sigh, he set his guitar down on the bed and rested his hands on his knees. He looked positively overcome.
“Alexa,” he began, “I am interested in you, as you put it. Very interested. Deeply interested. And I have been from the moment I spotted you at the bar in that ridiculous outfit.”
“It was business causal,” I muttered.
“It was ridiculous, and I loved it,” Jackson went on. “From the start, you wouldn’t accept any of my bullshit. You didn’t genuflect. You just...Understood. You saw through me.”
“Did I?” I asked, taking another step toward him.
“Yes,” he said, looking up at me. “I don’t think anyone’s ever seen me and realized that what they’re looking at is nothing but an act.”
“You’re not acting now,” I said, daring to sit beside him on the bed. My body was waking up in his presence, and I let it. “You aren’t acting now, are you?”
He looked at me sadly. “I’m not this good of an actor,” he said.
“Jackson,” I said, “Why do you do this to yourself?”
“What?” he asked, turning to look at me. My skin blazed to life under his gaze, and that aching need inside of me cried out in the darkness.
“Why do you bother with all of this, the whole rock and roll thing, if it makes you this mise
rable?” I asked.
He was quiet for a moment, and I could see him deliberating about whether or not he wanted to be honest with me. Without tearing his eyes away from mine, he said, “I owe it to the world to lead a spectacular life, Alexa.”
“But why?” I pressed, “Plenty of people are perfectly happy living quiet, humble—”
“I know,” he said, “I wish I was one of them. But...” I was astonished to hear his voice catch in his throat. “The only reason I’m sitting here right now is someone else’s sacrifice. All of this, it’s all for her. It’s all to make good on her sacrifice.”
“Someone you loved?” I asked, my very cells poised on the brink of utter disappointment.
“Yes,” he said, “My mother.”
“What?” I said, my body raging with a thousand different impulses.
“My mother,” Jackson repeated, fighting to keep his voice even. “She died, giving birth to me. She gave up everything so that I could live. How could I be content with a modest life, knowing that? I need to do something amazing with the life I’ve been given, because she never got a chance to...”
His voice broke, and he looked away from me suddenly. The tears had returned to my eyes, ran down my cheeks like a fountain. It was as though Jackson had cracked his soul in two and showed me what was inside him, deep down where no one else had ever seen.
“I’ve never been close to any woman,” he went on. “I’ve had plenty, sure. But even the most causal of those relationships have ended in pain. Alexa, when I met you, you scared the shit out of me. When I met you, I knew from the start that you were someone I could really care about. But I could never let myself try. You’d only get hurt, in the end. And that’s against your rules, isn’t it? I’m not allowed to let you get hurt. And it would kill me to be the one who hurt you.”
Without thinking, I lay my hand on Jackson’s stubbled cheek. He looked at me, surprised by the sudden contact. I held his gaze, let myself fall into those mesmerizing cerulean pools.
“I think you were right about one thing, Jackson,” I whispered.
“What’s that?” he asked, his voice low.
“My rules are fucking stupid,” I said, and brought my mouth to his.
He caught my lips hungrily, pushing my mouth open with his own. His strong tongue swept against mine, pressing deeply into my mouth. His strong arms closed around me, pulling my body tightly against his as our lips moved against each other’s. My entire body sprang to life at his touch, and a flood of forbidden lust came roaring through me. I’d been keeping him at bay far too long, trying to resist what was so clearly meant to be between us. But I was through holding back. I wanted him to know me, everything about me. I owed him that much. Owed us that much.
His fingers wove themselves into my dark hair as I threw my arms around his broad shoulders. I flicked the tip of my tongue against his, and savored the shudder that ran through his big, strapping frame. He let his hands trail down my body, over the generous dips and curves until they handed on my hips. His fingers dug into my skin, egging me on. I closed my teeth on his bottom lip, biting with just enough force for him to notice.
With a sharp intake of breath, he hoisted me from where I sat on the bed and onto his lap. I was straddling him where he sat on the edge of the bed. I wrapped my long legs around his waist and moaned as I closed the gap between our thinly-clothed groins. I could feel the hard length of him pulsing against me, and the friction had me dripping wet. I grinded my body against his, rubbing against his stiff, throbbing member. The world shrunk down to the size of our two bodies. There was only one thing in the world to be done. I needed to take him inside of me. I needed to feel him there, where I so ached for him. And I needed to do it immediately.
I planted my hands on his muscular shoulders and pushed him back against the bed. He fell onto the mattress, looking up at me with wild, unfettered need in his eyes. I grabbed the hem of my loose tee shirt and drew it up over my head, tossing it across the room. Jackson’s hands found my waist, lingering on my bare skin. His fingers flew to the clasp of my bra and, with one swift motion, set my breasts free. They fell from their tight containment, bouncing on my chest. Jackson let out a low groan as he took in the sight of me, and he reached to take a breast in each hand.
My nipples hardened instantly at his touch. I let my head fall back against my shoulders as he kneaded my tender flesh, filling his palms with me. I bucked against him, savoring the feel of his stiffening manhood as it rubbed against my wetness. I fell forward over him, overcome with need. He grinned up at me and lowered his mouth to my breast. I gasped as he closed his lips around my nipple, flicking at the sensitive flesh with his tongue. My body went limp as he teased me, and in a heartbeat he had flipped me onto my back on the hotel bed.
I sprawled out before him, my chest heaving wildly. Jackson planted a knee on either side of my body, looking down at me with a single-minded intensity that couldn’t be mistaken. In one swift movement, he tore off his shirt and threw it to the ground. The perfect, firm panes of his pecs were like slabs of marble, and his abs rippled as he lowered himself on top of me. I shuddered as our bare skin touched, savoring the passionate heat emanating from him. He brought his mouth to mine and closed the space between our bodies. He thrust against me, letting me feel how hard he’d become for me. I slid my tongue against his, letting my fingers dance along the firm muscles of his chest. Before I could stop myself, or think up some excuse, I let my hands travel toward his belt.
He pulled away from our kiss, his eyes filled with insatiable need. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he panted. It was taking every ounce of strength he could muster to ask that question.
I ripped open his belt buckle, smiling devilishly up at him. “Positive,” I whispered, and tugged down the waist of his jeans. He groaned as I took him into my hands, marveling at the sheer enormity of him. I worked my hands slowly up and down his full length, letting my fingers work him into a dizzy fervor. His face was screwed up with the intensity of the sensation, but I longed to take it further. I pushed him back onto the bed and slid his jeans entirely off his body. I lingered for a moment beside him, drinking in the gorgeousness that lay before me. I’d never seen a male body that I would call beautiful...until that moment.
He watched, speechless, and removed my bottoms and my soaked-through panties. I crawled toward him, naked as the day I was born. It felt so right to be like this with him. It was the most natural thing in the world. I swung my leg over his body and hovered there, just inches away from where his cock stood out, hard and lusty. He trained his eyes on mine and planted his hands on my hips. I could tell that I was in total control, here. He was going to let me take the lead. I smiled down at him and lowered my body, until the tip of him was poised against the eager wetness between my legs.
“Do you want me to let you in?” I asked him in a whisper.
“Yes,” he moaned, “Yes, yes—”
I slid down onto him, gasping as he spread me open. My silky flesh parted for him, and I felt his member deep, deep inside of my body. Deeper than anyone had ever been. I was shocked by the size of him, the way he filled every inch of me. I dug my fingers into his chest and looked down at him in amazement. His mouth hung open, his eyes filled with rapturous passion.
Slowly at first, I began to buck my hips against his, meeting his mounting thrusts as they came. I cried out as he drove into me, leaned into him to better feel him sliding up into the deepest part of my body. We moved faster, pushed harder, meeting each other halfway. I leaned back as he pounded into me, opening places I didn’t even know existed. A warm, insistent pressure was growing inside of me, yearning for release. I bore down on Jackson, watching as his face screwed up into a mask of unbearable pleasure.
Just as I thought I couldn't stand another ounce of sensation, just as I was sure that my body would tear in two, Jackson lowered his hand to that aching, throbbing spot between my legs. He lay his fingers against the very center of my ecstasy, began to
rub, and flick, and—
I barreled over the edge of orgasm and came hard against Jackson’s thrusting cock. I felt him pulse within me and let go, filling me up with his thick, hot seed. We rode each other with abandon as the unbearable sweet sensation poured over us, coating us with its heavy, hazy satisfaction. My body dissolved into a collection of blissfully light cells, transported by this man’s touch, freed by his love.
Exhausted, I fell heavily onto the bed beside Jackson, curling up against his heaving, sweaty body. He lay sprawled out on the bed, his chest rising and falling monumentally. We panted and gasped until our breaths slowed and matched, moving as one. We lay there for what felt like a year, a lifetime. There was no sound but our breathing, no one in the universe but us.
Wordlessly, Jackson rolled onto his side and pulled me to him, his chest against my back. As his arms wrapped tightly around me, I nearly let out a laugh. Who would have guessed that Jackson Brent would have been a cuddler? Little by little, the rest of the world started to come back into focus. I stared straight ahead, trying to keep my breathing even. I’d done it...I’d actually done it. I’d gone to bed with Jackson Brent. Jackson Brent, the rock star. Jackson Brent the...man I was supposed to be writing about.
Well. This definitely won’t make me a biased biographer, I thought. I peered over at Jackson and noticed that his breathing had slowed. He’d fallen asleep on me!
“Hey,” I whispered, giving him a little shake. “Hey, Jackson.”
“Hmmm?” he muttered, cracking open his eyes.
“I feel like people might start to wonder where you went,” I said, blushing unaccountably. I needed to get over this blushing thing in a big way.
Beauty in the Breakdown (A Rock Star Romance Novel) Page 9
