by A. M. Jones
“Get naked… now.”
She ignores me and tickles the hair on my stomach with her fingertips and mouth. She torments my erection with her body as she moves. I groan, falling back onto the bed. The ceiling disappears as I close my eyes. I’m afraid if I watch anymore, I’ll blow.
My boxers go next and I suck in a breath when she wraps her hand around me. “Mmmm.” Her breath touches a sensitive part. I jerk from the warmth of her tongue at my base as it glides up the underside. I smile. She’s paying me back from Halloween.
I lift my head. “Tease.”
“Oh, you would know if I was teasing you.” The only warning she gives is a slight squeeze of her hand before she takes me into her mouth. The warmth of her massaging tongue drives me crazy. More blood turns me to stone and pumps with the beat of my heart. As she inches down slow, I soon feel the slickness of the back of her throat. Her gaze is still locked with mine and I burn this to my memory forever. Groaning, my eyes roll when she goes back with suction.
My hips move as she finds her rhythm and my heads falls back again. Her free hand explores my stomach before resting there with my uneven breathing. Focusing on the sensation erupting through my lower body, a tingle starts at the base of my spine and moves forward at a mind-numbing pace.
I hiss through my teeth. “Taylor….”
“Mmmm,” she hums without removing her mouth. That’s all it takes for my body to heat and shudder. I groan. Dots dance behind my eyelids when my orgasm hits me hard and harder. She slows and my body tries to fold in on itself when my dick gets sensitive. Sliding her mouth off, she gives another lick before lifting her body from mine and stares into my eyes.
A wide grin turns her cheeks into perfect apples.
I laugh but it’s weak with satiety. I needed that. I need her.
She tucks herself beside me, and I flip on top of her. The pleasurable yelp she lets out only serves to keep me going. She smiles, but it falls a little when she takes in my gaze. Her lipstick is smeared all over her chin and neck. I wipe my mouth and come away with some of it.
I freeze at the bright streaks of color. “Taylor—” I say because I realize I’m playing right into Madison’s hand. Here she is tainting something beautiful. Something Taylor and I are sharing together. The last thing I want to think about is Madison. Just wait until this fucking weekend is over.
Madison thinks this is a sure thing. That all I need to do is get Taylor “out of my system.” This doesn’t sit well and I suddenly feel dirty as fuck.
“What’s wrong?” she asks. A small smile plays on her lips even as her eyes droop. I lean down and kiss the corner of her mouth. No, I’m not ruining this. Not right now. Not tonight.
I grab the water from the bedside table. Twisting the cap, I offer it to her. “Nothing. You’re going to pass out on me in about ten seconds.”
She laughs almost spitting water, but she doesn’t deny my claim. As soon as she hands me the bottle, her eyes close.
The drapes are wide open, so I stand to close them. When a chill hits my balls, I realize they’re wet with Taylor’s saliva.
When I turn toward the bathroom, Taylor says, “Stay with me?”
It shouldn’t amaze me with how relieved I am at the question. I nod. “First things first, I need to go dry myself.” Her eyes sweep downward as she smiles.
Grabbing my duffle and striding into the bathroom, I turn on the water to wash lipstick off my face and smile when I have to clean it off my dick. I shower because all I accomplished was smearing the lipstick even more.
Taylor sleeps under the blankets when I go back into the room later. I try to make her comfortable before slipping in beside her. She’s without her shorts and tights. I sigh, listening to her breathing and playing with a strand of her hair. I swear, if I could have this every day, I’d never take it for granted. But I have to admit if it were possible, it wouldn’t be soon. Seeing her with her friends, in her element, I know this is what she was meant to do. So what if I could give her more? Hell, I’m already stuck in a marriage with Madison, so I might as well take full advantage.
Movement wakes me, and when I open my eyes, Taylor stares at me. I grin. She looks like hell. Her eyes are red from sleeping in contacts and mascara makes her to have raccoon eyes… and her hair is in a tangle all over her head.
“I’m going for coffee,” she informs me. “I feel like shit. Get more sleep.”
I let my hand travel under the blanket, wrapping it around her soft waist. When I try to kiss her, she turns her head away. My heart sinks. “What’s wrong?”
“Not only do I probably look like a zombie, I probably smell like one.”
Oh. Chuckling, I shake my head. “Nah, more like a demon in its true form.”
She bumps me with her shoulder. “Shut up.”
When she goes into the bathroom, my smile falls.
A thumping on the hotel room door wakes me again, and I hop out of bed to open it with a flourish. Taylor holds two coffees, a paper bag, and another bag over her shoulder. She must have showered earlier because she looks like a million bucks. Her hair is pouffy at the crown and in a side ponytail, with curls cascading over her shoulder. Her gaze takes me in. I glance to make sure I’m not hanging out of my boxer shorts.
“Thanks. You were asleep?” She walks by, bringing in the heavenly smell of coffee. “I also got you some stuff from my car.”
“A loincloth?”
She laughs. “You know I was only kidding about that.” Clearing her throat, she becomes nervous, fidgeting with both hands full. I take a coffee from her, and she sets down her bags. “Eli, I’m sorry about last night.”
I stop her with my hand. “Don’t feel guilty.” I don’t, but I’m also a selfish asshole.
She shakes her head. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what are you sorry for?”
“Lost inhibitions.” She sits and puts her head in her hands. “I wasn’t thinking straight. Just taking. And your song—” She wraps her arms around herself. “I ran into Madison,” she blurts.
My mind spins. “What did she say to you?”
“She knows there’s something going on, Eli. And now that song? Are you crazy?”
About you. But that’s not what she wants to hear. I run my hand through my hair. “I hate that I’m putting you through this. I hate she had the gall to confront you.”
“She said you were recording another song with her.”
Feeling as though I’ll fall, I sit beside her. I’m not sure what to do or say. I haven’t confirmed another collaboration so Madison telling Taylor I did only serves to piss me off. Madison shouldn’t even be speaking to Taylor after what she’s done. And if I tell Taylor what Madison’s offered, last night won’t look good to her. I’m not going to defile what we did for her. Or me. Anxiousness looms on her features. And as for another stupid fucking song… “I don’t want to,” I manage.
“It’s good for Tainted District.” Her gaze casts downward. Misery exudes from her expression. Her chin trembles ever so slightly that if I hadn’t been watching, I would’ve missed it. “Will it be another duet?”
“No. Fuck no.” Because at least I can guarantee her that. I will not do that again.
Taylor stands and digs through some bags. She arranges Jaxon’s gear but suddenly spins toward me with a pinched face. “I can’t stand this.” After laying everything on the bed, she says, “There’re fresh bagels in the bag. I need be in the conference center to arrange my booth. I’m sorry. We’ll talk more later?”
I nod and watch her leave, still not sure what I’m going to do. I think about everything Taylor has done for the band. Maybe I can return the favor. I run my hands through my hair and sigh. I need to make the tough decision for both of us. Taylor doesn’t deserve this.
After I get dressed, I put my hair back and slip on the throwing stars. The event is easy to find. The convention room has rows of tables like a maze and people mill about, assembling banners and book displa
ys. The aroma of coffee floats through the air as much as the excitement does.
Taylor’s banner is gigantic and is visible over most of the others. I stop and stare at it because it’s decorated with all the new book covers of the Death to Demon series. Savannah poses in a provocative-bad ass way on the first book. The fifth installment has the original cover—the one with only me, but all the rest have both, Savannah and me, on them. Emotion thickens my saliva. It’s logical. These covers fit better because the story includes Jaxon, but I can’t help the gratitude I feel over being included on the earlier books.
Taylor pauses with a hand full of bookmarks and buttons. “You like them?”
“Of course, I do. They’re bad ass.” I smile as she hands me an event badge with my name on it, making me feel like a legit part of the book community.
“Good, because I’m not changing them ever again.”
Happy to hear this, I help her arrange things on the table. At one point, she shakes out her hands. So far, it’s the only sign I’ve seen of her nerves. “You okay?”
She laughs. “You’re here. So that’d be an aye aye, Captin’ Chappy.”
Now I laugh. Zara calls Jaxon that after an unfortunate boating incident.
When the event opens to the ticket holders, I watch Taylor in her element. We don’t say much to each other, but I can tell she’s having a great time. As for my modeling gig, she isn’t kidding. Some ladies are grabby, but I’m learning to be proficient at evading their grasp.
I enjoy it when readers gush over her writing as she smiles bright—not an ounce of discomfort. At one point, she asks me to take pictures of some books a fan brought in to have her sign. All six are worn out as if they’ve been through the ringer.
A few of her readers have Tainted District t-shirts and printed photos for me to sign. Just something else Taylor has done for us. For me.
A lady in a polka-dot dress chats with Taylor but sneaks peeks at me. Her scrutiny of my body is disheartening, so when she introduces herself, I’m on alert. It’s hard paying attention to what she says when she has this odd curl on top of her head that waves with her movements.
“—Love for you to be on a book cover,” she says, still shaking my hand. I realize we’ve been shaking for longer than necessary, so I tug free.
“I’m sorry, what?”
She laughs, glancing at Taylor. “I’d like to hire you. For pictures?” When I don’t respond, she continues as if I’m thick headed, “As a model?”
“Really?”
She smiles and this time it’s flirtier. “Yes. There’s another event I’d like to fly you to as well. In Houston?”
This whole conversation is weird. Isn’t this considered rude? Feels a little like poaching or something. “Uh, I’m not a professional model or anything.”
“There’s no need. All you have to do is stand and look good—just like you’re doing now. You’re enjoying yourself, right?” That’s a good question. Am I? Yes, but I’m certain it has more to do with Taylor’s proximity than anything else.
Taylor’s listening to our conversation. “You going to Houston?” I ask her.
Taylor’s gaze darts back and forth between us before she says no. When I turn back to—well, I didn’t catch her name—I tell her, “I’m not going to be in Houston.”
She tilts her head. She’s not pleased, if her pursed lips are any indication. “I’d still like photos.” She hands me a card and leans in. “I’ll pay double whatever she did.”
She waits, but I’m not sure for what, nor am I sure on what to say. Thanks, but no thanks? “I’ve got a busy schedule. Like I said, I’m not a professional. I own a business and a band…” I trail off because I can tell she loses interest. She glimpses at Taylor before walking off.
Taylor’s laugh draws my attention to her. “Smooth talker.”
I smile. “That seemed disrespectful. Did you know that would happen?”
“I thought it might. If you’re not interested in being a regular cover model, just say you’re unavailable to avoid having to explain.”
“Good idea. Yeah, I’m unavailable.”
She fiddles with a Sharpie. “I know.” Pain pierces my chest at the way she says it. I open my mouth to argue, but I close it. She doesn’t look at me again.
By the time I get a break, I have permanent dots in my eyes from all the picture snapping. I take a stroll through the convention booths and come upon Kate Conner.
She smiles and greets me as she finishes with another reader. I hand over some cash and she autographs a copy of Maniac in Heaven in exchange for a picture with her.
“May I ask you something?”
Curiosity shines in her eyes. “Sure.”
“What’s an author’s biggest goal? Dream?”
She clacks her nails against the tabletop, but the tablecloth muffles the sound as she does so. “Hmmm… In my opinion, and everyone’s different, it’s ideal to be hybrid, which is what some authors shoot for. Most are content with just self-publishing. There are quite a few who make a living doing it that way.”
“What’s being hybrid?”
“When an author is hybrid, it means they have books published both traditionally through a big house and self-published titles. If you have a traditionally published title, then your book and name will mass distributed across the nation. Sometimes, if an author is lucky, they’ll be on shelves internationally. That’s exposure a self-published author doesn’t have.”
“Is that your dream?”
She laughs. “No. I’m content with paying my bills and putting my kids through college. If someone comes along and offers me a book deal, it would depend on the book. Like I said everyone is different and querying agents takes time better used for writing, in my opinion.”
Interesting. “So if you have an agent, the chances of being published traditionally increases?”
“Yes, depending on the agent, it increases dramatically.”
I glance at Taylor. She laughs with the author next to her—her bright smile flashing. “Right.” Turning back to Kate, I nod my thanks.
Eli makes his way back to the booth. He smiles half-heartedly when he resumes his spot in front of a Death to Demon series eight-foot banner. Both of our hearts seem to be breaking over and over. He knows it’s unjust to ask me to wait on something that might never happen. And I know it’s unfair to keep his heart and inevitably break it, anyway.
His laugh breaches my reverie. A few women huddle beside him as they take turns getting a picture.
Biting my lip to hold my smile, I can see their panties melting. I know the feeling—it’s hard for me to not think about last night. I came without him hardly touching me. I squirm just thinking about it, even when my mind whispers the word hussy.
When they finish with Eli, they pick the first book to read the back blurb. Eventually they make purchases as Eli shoots me a conspiring wink.
One lady with dark red hair holds Turmoil. “Does this have an HEA?”
“What’s that mean?” Eli asks her.
“Happily ever after,” several of us say at once.
We laugh. Eli’s expression turns serious as he scowls at the book in her hand. “That one doesn’t.”
I drop my pen, startled that he’s read it. I should’ve known better, he’s one of my biggest fans. “It depends on which way you look it,” I explain to the reader.
Eli’s lips go flat for a moment. “How do you look at it then?”
The reader notices the tension. I smile. “The ending is satisfying.”
He snorts, turning to the woman. “Don’t listen to her. It’s about a husband, Michael, and wife, Sadie, who struggle to stay in love. They have career problems, money problems, lost pregnancies—well, they go through several shit storms. Their love is tested the most when the husband falls in love with an enthralling woman named Anna after starting an illicit affair with her.”
Eli’s passionate tone with the subject draws more people over. My face catches fire,
but he doesn’t seem to care. “Sounds bad, right?” When everyone nods, he continues. “The problems, though, were of their own making. Their communication was lacking, they blamed each other for everything, and were just miserable human beings. They went to therapy, but he kept cheating.
“The affair though, and I’m not justifying it, was everything Michael wasn’t getting at home—not only a lover but also a partner. They shared hopes and dreams and helped each other reach those hopes and dreams. Finally, Michael ended his marriage but as time passed the passion in his relationship with Anna ceased to exist. He harbored feelings for Sadie and still tried to romance her to love him. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what he saw in Sadie. Maybe I missed it.”
The redhead blinks at him. “It’s not an HEA?”
He shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to read it to find out, but I don’t think so. There’s a reason it’s entitled Turmoil. Well written, nicely executed.” A tight smile forms on his face and he glances in my direction.
The women stand around, and I can see their wheels turning as they try to figure out how it ends. Eli must notice too because he smirks. “The sex scenes made me hard.”
Less than ten minutes later, I sold out of Turmoil.
A Mexican restaurant caters the event dinner, and Eli stays silent for most of the meal. He doesn’t eat much, and when it’s polite to excuse himself, he claims a stomach ache and apologizes for bailing on his planned activities for the night.
As I watch him leave, Kate leans over. “Better watch out with that one.”
I scoff. “Uh, yeah. Where were you with that advice last year?”
