“And now?” I whispered, reaching for his hand, linking our fingers together, trying not to freak out over the fact that he was still talking to me, opening up, allowing me to see who he truly was and not shoving me out of bed and making me sign some sort of agreement that I wouldn’t talk about him. “What do you feel like now?”
Zane’s long eyelashes pressed against his cheekbones as he blinked down at the white duvet then up at me. “I feel everything.”
I gulped as his hands moved to cup my face.
“I feel your breathing. I feel your heartbeat. I feel the tension in the air, the scent of your body, the rhythm of your pulse—I feel it all.”
I exhaled slowly through my mouth, worried that I’d ruin that look of bliss on his face by breathing too loud.
“But mostly…” A smile crept across his face. “I feel you and me.”
“Us.”
“Yeah, us.” His hands trailed down my neck, resting on my shoulders.
“I think I’m going to keep you.” I smiled, licking my lips.
He sobered. “I’ve never been kept before.”
“Well…” I crawled into his lap and wrapped my legs around his waist. “Now you are.”
His eyes crinkled at the sides as his smile widened. “I think I like this idea of being kept.”
“I’ll be sure to administer the daily marshmallow allotment before and after bed.” I nodded encouragingly.
“Oh, baby.” His knuckles grazed my sides, his hands spreading across my skin causing goose bumps to flare everywhere. “I love the sound of that.”
“I knew you would.”
“What about marshmallow trails to bed? Are those out too? Because I’m really good with positive reinforcement.”
My cheeks heated. “Yeah. I bet.”
“Stay.” His forehead touched mine, chest heaving, he kissed me across the mouth. “Stay.”
“I will.”
He nodded and then I was drowning in his deep kisses, my body already responding to his, ready for whatever he had to give me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Zane
I WAS FLYING.
Every time she gave herself to me—which by the time five a.m. rolled around, had already been twice more, I was flying.
Each experience was different.
Each kiss evolved.
Each touch transformed into something more meaningful. Something that meant a hell of a lot more than a twenty-four-hour booty call.
She was breathing deep, her wild hair falling across her face, kissing her barely parted lips.
I leaned down and kissed her forehead then walked over to my guitar and picked it up.
I processed things differently than most people. Therapy had never worked for me because talking about the anxiety had always made it worse, almost like this weird paranoia that if I talked about it, it made it more real, so I kept it to myself.
But talking to Fallon felt freeing.
Like I could trust her with the deepest darkest parts of me, and she’d still hold my hand.
It was hard to process or even explain the openness with which she treated me, like I wasn’t a freak, like there wasn’t something wrong with me because of my past.
Grandma would have loved her.
I sighed and strummed a few chords then a few more as the roar of the waves crashed in the distance when a knock sounded at the door. I quickly grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around my body before I cracked it open and peeked out.
Will stared at me, then at the sheet, then back at me, his grin widening the more his brain cells added two and two together. “You smell like a girl.”
“It’s five in the morning.”
“You used to wake up at three.” His eyes narrowed as he crossed his bulky arms across his chest and smirked. “So…” He rocked back on his heels. “How was it?”
“Oh, God.” I groaned. “This is hell, isn’t it? Where I have the best night of my life and then get questioned by the only father figure I have!”
“Screw you. I’m thirty!” His eyes widened.
“Oh sorry, dirty uncle then? How does that work?”
He flipped me off.
I barricaded my arms against the door and shook my head. “No, not a chance in hell, what do you need?”
His green eyes narrowed behind thick black-rimmed glasses that I still wasn’t sure if he actually needed or just wore, so it made him look more intelligent. “It’s not like I want to see your girl naked, I’m just curious. Is this the one that broke you? And had you walking around like a zombie for the past week mumbling under your breath and refusing to do anything except for glue your ass to the piano bench and go through ten pounds of marshmallows? That girl?”
I didn’t answer.
He cursed under his breath. “Great, just great. Look, I’m not trying to be a jackass, but you were in a pretty dark place before her and the music, it was good, not great, and now it’s…effortless.”
I looked down at the plush carpet.
“It’s pure gold. Even when she hurt you, it was pure gold. If you lose her, if something happens…what happens to your music then? Is that when the great Zane Andrews finally cracks? Is she the catalyst that sends you over the age? I mean, do you even realize how fragile you are?”
“Goodbye, Will.” I tried to slam the door in his face but his hand wrapped around the edge, and I might be a bastard, but I didn’t want to break every bone in his playing hand.
“Zane.” His worried expression wasn’t helping the tightening in my stomach or the anxiety that continued to wrap itself around it. “I’m saying this because I care. Look, you’ve found your muse, awesome, fantastic, but what happens when you start touring again? What happens when she finds out the truth?”
My blood ran cold. “The truth.”
“When was the last time you even had a checkup? Your doctor called and said you missed your last two appointments. The team’s concerned.”
“Concerned.” I repeated, like that was all I could actually do in that moment. “About what? Not getting paid? Look, I’m fine, my last check up was completely normal, no weird tumors, no passing out anymore.” I jumped up and down.
“You could have been brain dead from the accident, Zane. As it is, the concussion was so bad your brain was bleeding, you asked if I was a chicken. We monitor you because if we don’t, you could die. You get that right? Death.”
“Will.” Anger raged through my veins, anger at him, myself, the situation, the reminder that it wasn’t just about my album but being able to finish it before I went under the knife for the aneurysm doctors were almost ninety-eight percent sure was one of the dangerous ones, the ones that like to pop. “I’ll be fine. The album’s almost done. I feel the best I have in years.”
“Because of her,” Will said in a flat tone. “So don’t screw it up just because you omit in order to protect her. If you’re all in, you’re all in, that’s how these things work. I would hate to lose you, Zane, and I’m going to guess, so would she. Either figure your shit out and go all in, set all the cards on the table, or let her go.”
The door shut quietly.
I stared at it.
Outraged.
Afraid.
And then outraged all over again.
The stupid thing was—doctors would have never discovered the slight tear in my brain had I not fallen off the stage and had my little breakdown.
One test turned into twenty.
And they all showed the same thing.
An area of my brain was compromised, and it was just a matter of time before a tiny little particle smaller than the pin of a needle, released itself and tried to kill me.
Technology though—had a way of zapping it, but timing wise, I had to finish the album first—I had to finish it, because if I didn’t wake up, if something happened…
I wanted to have the music done, so maybe if I was a vegetable, maybe then I would still remember what it was like.
To have music.
And now.
To have her.
Because she was in every single song.
Chapter Thirty
Fallon
THE SUN BURST THROUGH the window casting a warm light across my bare arms. I slowly stretched my sore body and rubbed my eyes.
Memories of the night before assaulted me over and over again causing a slow burn to start from my toes and spread all the way to my face.
The things he said.
The things we did.
The way he touched me.
I suppressed a nervous giggle.
“Something funny?” An extremely—thank you, God—naked Zane was standing in the doorway, a cup of coffee in one hand, a marshmallow in the other, and an acoustic guitar hanging off the side of his body.
I wasn’t really sure if I should laugh or just cry at the image of perfection standing in front of me, every rippled muscle on display for me to see.
That was the thing about Zane.
His secrets were his and his alone.
But his body? It was as if he knew the mental barriers he put up and didn’t want to do the same with the physical ones, like it was all he had to share at times.
And I respected that.
Even though I didn’t quite fully understand it.
“You,” I finally muttered in a sleepy voice. “Let me guess, marshmallow pancakes for breakfast?”
He made a face. “Marshmallow waffles. Actually.”
I scrunched up my nose. “Those are better how?”
His face broke out into a grin as he took a sip of coffee. “Be a good girl and I’ll tell you.”
“It’s too early for you.”
His smirk was ridiculous, yet I couldn’t help but laugh and throw a pillow in his direction, hoping it would at least alleviate the giddiness in my chest that I was really there.
In his hotel room.
In his bed.
And I had been the only one.
A sense of rightness washed over me as I grabbed one of the blankets in an effort to cover myself.
“No,” Zane said in a commanding voice.
I looked up. “No, what?”
“Morning time is naked time.” He took another slow sip. “No clothes.”
“But—”
“Nope.”
I frowned and slowly stood, naked, on both feet. We’d had sex how many times? And I couldn’t stand in front of him naked? As sunlight streamed in and basically put a beam on every imperfection I had.
“Happy?” I huffed.
“I’m…” He tilted his head and smirked. “…very pleased, yes. Yourself?”
“You have too much energy. What time is it anyway?”
“Don’t cross your arms.”
“Huh?” I crossed, uncrossed, crossed again, then clenched my fists. “I’m standing in front of you naked.”
“My body and mind are both well aware of this awesome fact. Thanks for clarifying though, just in case there was any confusion.”
I swallowed and looked down, body shaking a bit. “I’m not like you. I can’t just walk around naked and be okay with it—even with you.”
“Yes, you can,” he said simply with a shrug. “Now, do you want waffles or not? I’m a pretty bad ass cook, and I figured since we were keeping each other and all, the least I could do is feed you.”
My stomach growled.
He tossed me a marshmallow.
I caught it mid-air. “I’m going to develop diabetes if I keep eating all this sugar.”
He waved me off with his cup. “Eh, you’ll be fine. There are worse things out there, trust me.” His expression sobered for a flicker of a second before the smile was back. “Now, I have some recording to do. And I may have promised Jay I’d meet him on set today for a small cameo.”
My eyebrows shot up. “On set? With crowds?”
“Come with me.” The words shot out of his mouth like a plea, his eyes darting back and forth between my mouth and my eyes. “Please?”
“Can I wear clothes?”
He put his coffee down on the nearby nightstand and pulled me into his arms. “If any man sees you naked like this, I’ll have to kill him, and I can’t have blood on my hands, prison isn’t for the likes of me.”
“For the likes of you?”
“Then again,” he looked thoughtful. “I bet my cousin would bail me out.”
“Your cousin?”
“Keep up, the really distant one, on my grandmother’s side, I think we’re like half cousins, whatever, she used to tease us that he was part of this huge mafia family and said if we didn’t eat all of our spinach she would send us to live with him.”
I laughed. “That’s kind of mean.”
“Right, but it got me to eat, and sometimes, there wasn’t a lot of food, and I was always worried she wouldn’t get enough.” His voice trailed off as a flicker of sadness dimmed his eyes.
“So, have you met this cousin?” I asked, not as much curious as I needed a quick subject change since I knew he’d been doing a lot of sharing about his crappy past.
Zane smirked. “Twice.”
“And?”
“He’s a scary mofo,” he said with a breathy half laugh. Then he released me and moved into the kitchen and started pulling out plates from the cupboard. “When I was little and then the second time was at one of my first worldwide tours, I had a stop in Chicago, and he was backstage afterwards. I thought he was one of my new bodyguards. The guy was pretty big even by my standards.” As if to emphasize his point, Zane chose that moment to flex every muscle in his body and then wink.
I wish I was the type of girl not to be affected by all that masculine beauty, but I’d tasted him, he’d been inside me, so I was more than affected, I was ready to sprint back to the bedroom and lock him in it. I twisted my hands in my lap and pretended to listen when all I could think about was where his tongue had been about three hours ago. “Really?”
Zane licked his lips.
I clenched my thighs and tried to swallow.
With another grin, Zane placed a waffle on each plate, with a marshmallow on top and chocolate syrup over both. “Well?” He grabbed some whipped cream and dipped his finger in the top, sucking it off slowly.
My legs tightened while my breathing came out a bit heavy.
“He introduced himself, well not just him but the rest of the friends or crew he’d brought with them. And shock of all shocks, they each had a sidearm. Just out in public, in Chicago, like it wasn’t a big deal. I mean it wasn’t Texas, you know? And what other reason would they have for carrying weapons? Even one of the girls, when she knelt down to pick up an autographed poster that a little girl had dropped, had a knife freaking strapped to her thigh.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re exaggerating, right?”
“Hell, no.” He held his hands up in the air. “They even said if I ever wanted to come to the house and give a private concert…”
“And die?” I finished.
“Like they’d kill familia!” Zane pounded his chest and winked. “Anyways, he gave me his phone number just in case, and that was that.”
I frowned. “Just in case what? You get shanked by the mob?”
“Hmm,” Zane licked more whipped cream off his waffle. “Don’t really think the mob shanks people. They drown people, make them disappear, freeze bodies, but shanking? I think that’s more prison you’re thinking.”
I burst out laughing. “This is good post-sex talk, really, fantastic, nice ice breaker you know? Getting shanked.”
“I’d shank you.” Zane said in a sultry voice. “But not with a knife.”
I struggled not to laugh. “Yeah, not sure that sexual innuendo worked.”
“Next time.” He rubbed his hands together and handed me my plate. “You’re breakfast of champions.”
“Again, diabetes.”
“Just one taste,” He dipped his finger into the whipped cream and held it out to me. I licked around the base of his finger then w
rapped my mouth around and sucked hard.
He let out a low curse and nearly collapsed against me. “That’s completely unfair.”
“And you walking around naked looking like this is fair?” I ran my hands over his tight abs while he let out a little moan.
“Ten minutes,” he whispered. “Give me ten more minutes with you and then I promise I’ll work.”
“Are you still paying me?”
“Oh, and you’re fired. Sorry, our company has a very strict no fraternization policy. Please gather your things and leave them at the door so I can hide them, keeping you from leaving the premises.”
I kissed him.
I couldn’t help it anymore.
The magnetic pull that was Zane Andrews was nearly impossible to resist, and after actually knowing him, talking to him, I’d be crazy not to latch onto him in any way physically possible.
“So, this makes us what? No longer employee and employer?”
“This makes us.” He rubbed his hands down my face softly as if the pads of his fingers were set on memorizing every inch of skin they could. “An us. Together. It’s what I want…but I’m still allowing you to vote. You know, even though you’re a woman.”
I rolled my eyes and smacked him lightly across the chest. “After an invitation like that? How could I say no?”
“Waffles later?” He asked picking me up by the ass and slamming me between both plates, the bite of the granite countertop caused me to hiss out but it was nothing compared to the smooth transition of warmth as he assaulted me with kisses then slid me off the counter and onto him, allowing me to ride him as I pushed against the back of the counter with my hands.
“Yeah.” I breathed out a moan as I moved against him. “Waffles, some…other time….”
Keep (Seaside Pictures Book 2) Page 17
