by Jenny Hayut
As I make my way back to the table, I don’t see Clay, but my eyes quickly focus on Holt and Lita. They’re both engulfed in whatever they’re talking about. Lita is laughing, sipping her beer, and Holt has turned his stool in her direction. I lift up my head as I take a deep breath. There’s the knife again. I can’t do this. I cannot do this. But I must. Clay’s right. They do look good together. Their personalities are so much more alike than mine and Holt’s ever were. What the hell he ever saw in me, I’ll never understand.
After seeing the two of them together, I turn away and walk to the stage instead.
Galaxy just got on, and they’re really putting it out tonight. I wave at Gavin, their leader, as he looks my way and gives me a wink. Cass and I were elevated from groupie status to just plain friends a couple of years ago when he started sticking around to hang with us even after their sets were over. We discovered real quick just how funny he is. He and Cass go at it all the time, trashing each other at who could be funnier. He might be funny, but he’s also sexy as shit and has a major-ass reputation with his female fans. That’s another thing he and Cass do—compare notes. Insane.
I think Clay has given up on the whole I’m-her-man bit as I spot him almost in the shadows, dancing with a leggy redhead. Through the crowd, I turn and look back at the table and see Holt, still with Lita. She’s talking, but he’s not looking at her. He’s watching me.
I force myself to look away. I could stand there all night, staring at him. Never getting enough. Gavin’s vocals grab my attention, and I start singing along amidst all the other fans.
There are fingers on my back, tickling my skin between the torn layers of fabric. A tingle travels up and down my spine. God.
“What’s with the show, baby?” He wraps his arms around my waist again.
I stiffen and fight with my body not to relax into them the way I desperately want to do.
“Tell your boy there’s no need for the theatrics. I’m not fooled. I know what your body does when it’s inviting, and that was no invitation. If he kisses you again, he’s on the fucking floor.”
“Holt. I—”
“And your girl over there. Only trying to be nice because I know she’s your friend. You and I both know where I want to fucking be. Stop playing games, Niki. I know we got shit to hash out. I’m ready for it. I’m here.”
I suck in a breath, trying not to react to his words.
“Let me show you how much I have fucking missed you, baby.”
He starts shifting back and forth, swaying us with the music.
My body relaxes into him. He feels so fucking good. Safe.
Damn it, Niki.
“Holt, I—”
Before I can tell him I’m scared, I hear Cass.
“Niki!” she yells.
I twist around to see her coming my way. But then she stops dead in her tracks. My guess: she just saw Holt.
She’s only a few feet away, so I know she can see me when I give her a glare that screams, Get over here. Now.
I pull away from Holt as she pushes through the crowd to us.
“Jesus, woman. I’ve been looking all over for you. I should’ve known you’d be up here front and center. They are blasting it out tonight.”
She’s saying all this to me out loud, but our eyes are having a totally different conversation.
“Are you okay? What the hell was that with Clay? Holy shit. You want to go?”
“Please don’t leave me. Where did Lita go? Clay is insane. His lips are lush though.”
“Yeah, they are rockin it. I haven’t been able to spot any of the scouts though.”
Right then, Gavin walks over to us and reaches down to tug on Cass’s hair. We both turn our attention to him, but he’s now looking over at Holt, giving him a head lift. We look back at Holt, who’s doing the same head lift back to Gavin. What was that?
We look at one another, puzzled. Do they know each other?
“Be back, baby. Stay right here. I will be back,” Holt says.
“Holt—”
“Just stay right here, Nicolette. I promise I’ll be back. Whatever you’re about to say, just save it until I come back, okay?”
“Okay.”
Damn it. No control. At all.
Back away, Niki. Back the fuck away. Not healthy. Slippery slope.
“What was that?” Cass asks.
“I don’t know. Honest to God, I really don’t want to stick around to find out either. I have to go.” I start to back away from the stage. “I need to get out of here, Cass. He’s sucking me in. I can feel it. Gonna go find Clay to take me home. You stay for Gavin and the guys. Tell him I’m sorry I had to leave.”
“Okay, hun. You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”
“No. No. I’m okay. I just need out of here.”
“Well, call me if you change your mind, and I’m there.”
“Okay.” I start walking away, and make it halfway to the door when Gavin starts on the microphone.
“So you guys know we’ve got some special guests tonight, and I want to give them a big shout out and thanks for coming, but right now I’ve got someone I want you all to meet. A friend that goes way back with me and my boys here. We used to jam together, and, if it’s okay with you all, we’d like to play something together, breaking it down before the chords ruled.”
I’m scanning the crowd for Clay.
“Holt Maddox, everybody. My crazy fucking boy from back in the day.”
I stop dead and twist around to face the stage. Holt is walking up to join Gavin, holding what seems to be an old guitar. He sits down next to Gavin on one of the barstools, and the stagehands position the lights on the two of them, sitting there with their guitars.
My breath hitches at the sight. He plays the guitar? One more thing I didn’t know about him. I know nothing, really. How could I have let this man, who I know so little about, torture my memories for the past three years of my life? How could I have allowed him to affect me so much, given him so much of myself when he gave me nothing? All I knew, all I let control me, was the way he made me feel.
Cass finds me in the crowd, with Ang in tow. They’re both jumping up and down as they reach me.
“Did you know he played?” Ang asks me.
“Um, no,” I say, still in shock.
Holt and Gavin are tuning up their guitars and talking to one another and then all of a sudden, Gavin looks out into the audience, in our direction. Oh my God. No. The sounds of their guitars fill the air, and I recognize the beginning of Aaron Lewis’s song, “Tangled Up in You.”
Holt slowly glides his fingers along the strings of his battered and aged-looking acoustic guitar then leans into the microphone and sings. Jesus. He sings too? His voice is low and husky, almost whispering. It has a sound of longing, loneliness. It fills the empty spaces in the air and digs under my skin, creeping in and exploding within me.
I know the words to the song. I’ve heard it plenty of times. But now, hearing Holt sing it, it’s different. I’m hearing the words for the first time. Through them, he’s telling me what he tried to tell me in the diner. What Cass was trying to get me to see. He suffered too. Alone.
Tears are rolling down my cheeks as I stand there in shock. He’s singing to me. Even though he’s not telling me anything different than he already has, singing it to me, in front of all these people, makes it more real. He’s giving me, for the first time, a glimpse inside him.
I have to get out of here. Oh my God. Like, now.
I start shoving past people to get away, just as they end the song. The crowd is going crazy, clapping and yelling.
Gavin takes the microphone. “Holt Maddox.”
I keep walking, almost running as I bolt toward the door. I have to get Clay. I reach for my purse and dig for my cell. I push the door open as I find my cell. It gets yanked out of my hand when Holt grabs my arm.
“Holt, please. Stop. I have to go. Please don’t. You don’t understand.”
&nb
sp; He tugs on my arm, pulling us outside and stops as we get to the side of the building. “Did you hear me? Did you hear me up there?” His face doesn’t show any sign of anger, but instead longing, need. A need for me to understand.
I just stand there, looking up at him, wishing he would take me in his arms and make the past three years disappear. They never happened. I’m normal. Not damaged. And in love. If only. I shiver as I see what’s in his eyes. Desire. Hunger.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, tightening his hold on me. “Baby, I’m trying to wait. Give you the time you need. But the way you’re looking at me right now…fuck. I know what you were feeling when I left, because I was feeling it too. You were pulling me, every fucking time I closed my eyes. I could smell you. I could feel the softness of your hair on my fingertips, the warmth of your body on mine. Every fucking night, baby. I couldn’t escape it.”
“Holt—”
He closes the space between our bodies, pressing me up against the building. His mouth is on mine, and I’m letting him. I open to him, so turned on, but scared. My body reacts to his touch, his words. All my fears slip away as my need for him takes over.
He pulls away from my mouth and leans up to my ear, brushing my hair aside.
“Waiting all that fucking time, sitting in that shit motel, wanting you to know, to understand, it was fucking torture, baby.”
He grasps my hips, and I instinctively move into him. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back, tasting him. God. I groan into his mouth.
“Fuck. I need to get you off this wall before I take you right here. No fucking way I’m letting anybody else see how beautiful you are when you come for me. That is mine.”
I shiver at the thought of lying naked with him again, and the sweetness of him calling me beautiful.
“Call your girl. Tell her not to come home tonight.”
Oh my God. I try to speak, to tell him I can’t. The words don’t come. The ache between my legs is controlling me.
“Okay.” With trembling hands, I grab my cell from Holt’s hand. He reaches for my other hand as I’m dialing Cass’s number and walks us toward Sex on Wheels.
“Nik, where are you? Are you with—?”
“Yes.”
“Do you need me?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Can you stay at Angie’s and Clay’s tonight?”
For a moment, she says nothing. Then, “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure”
“Hells yes. You know I don’t mind. Please, please, remember what I said though. You know this is gonna change things. Remember what I said, honey. All on the table. I love you. And if you need me or Clay, call us.”
“I know. Love you too.”
Chapter 12
We barely make it into my house as Holt rushes me in and slams the door behind us. He pushes me up against the wall with such explosive force that I have to hang on to him. I moan and reach for his shoulders, but he grabs my arms and raises them over my head. His mouth finds mine, and I can almost taste the desperate need in his kiss.
My body is on fire from the hunger rippling through my veins. He needs me as much as I need him. He loosens his hold on my hands only to capture my hair in his fist. I let out a near-silent moan. As he caresses my hair, he lets the strands run through his fingers then fists some of it and brings it to his face, breathing it in. I look into his eyes and see the pain, the loneliness. He’s remembering. God.
“Torture, baby. Sweet fucking torture.”
He kisses me then. Hard. My legs tremble as I taste his need. It’s taking him over, threatening to tip us both off the edge. Right at that moment, I want to go there. Beyond the safety nets. I don’t want to think about anything. The past is gone. All that’s left is here and now. All I want is to be wrapped up in him. Nothing else, no one else exists. It’s just me and him, up against that wall. Giving each other what we need.
He slides his hands down to my waist and lifts me up. As I wrap my legs around his hips, I feel the tightness of his ass, the firmness of his legs. He cups my ass with both hands and squeezes. His arousal is pressed against me, and I fight the urge to beg.
“I’ve missed you, baby. So fucking bad.”
His voice—and now, as I open my eyes, his face—sends chills raging through my body. Like a savage animal ready to kill his prey, he’s hungry. For me.
He grasps the back of my neck and pushes his tongue into my mouth, kissing me so hard that it leaves me panting for more. He pulls at my shirt then slips his hands under it slowly, stroking my back, going further and further down until he glides his fingers along the skin above my ass.
He feels the raised bump of my scar. I stiffen, and he hesitates, but then begins again, caressing across it and continuing his journey further down. God, I can’t take much more of his touch without losing it.
He pulls us away from the wall, walking with my body wrapped around him and his lips locked on mine. He slowly carries me down the hall, and I can hardly breathe from the anticipation. The memory of his touch is eating me up inside. My heart is beating so fast, the blood in my veins boiling for him.
He tears his mouth away from mine and groans, “Which one?”
I look at him in confusion.
“Which one, baby? Where’s your bed?”
I catch my breath when I grasp his meaning. “At the end of the hall, on the left,” I whisper.
I lick the crease of his neck, and he moans. His cock pulses between our bodies. I understand now why that sound affects him so much when I do it. As it escapes his lips, it jolts me, increasing the longing to be filled with him.
Holt reaches the darkness of my room, lit only by the moonlight creeping through my windows. He slowly carries me to my bed and slides me down his body. We face each other, still pressed together. I can’t breathe as I stand, waiting, aching for his touch.
Finally, he cups my face and kisses me slowly, pulling at my lip with his mouth, sucking it, biting it. He brings his lips to my ear, grazing it with his teeth. I tremble as the sensation drives me wild.
“Baby. You sure you’re ready for this? You’ve got to tell me to stop now, because in a minute, there’s no fucking way I’m going to be able to.”
My mind screams at me: Tell him to stop, Niki. Here’s your chance. Back away. Don’t do it to yourself again. He’s going to hurt you again. He’s going to leave you. Alone. Again.
I whisper, shyly, “Don’t stop.”
“Thank fuck, baby.” He drops his head to my neck and begins teasing my skin with his lips. He stops when he reaches the base of my neck. His hot breath on my skin has my body beginning to spasm. Without hesitation, I lift my neck to him, begging for more.
“That’s right, baby,” he whispers, “show me how much you want me.” His words bring me back to that increasing wetness between my legs.
He trails his hands down the sides of my body as he slowly lifts my shirt over my head and throws it across the room. I stand there, facing him in nothing but my bra, skirt, and boots. He brings his hands back to my sides and continues sliding them down ever so slowly, sensually, past my waist, to my thighs. His touch on my bare skin is making me delirious, so blissed out I can barely stay standing.
I moan as he thrusts a hand between my legs, slowly pushing them apart. I’m dripping. I want him to inside me so badly. Knowing it’s coming, I’m not sure I can hold back.
“Fuck, baby. So wet. So ready.”
He pushes the fabric of my panties aside and massages me, finding my clit and rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. Yeah, I’m going to embarrass myself and let go, just like this. I can feel it building. I’ve gone without for so long. Without him. With only thoughts of him. With only me and my own devices to please myself. Nothing compares to this man. Nothing. The way my body reacts to him, to his touch. Like no one has ever done to me before. My body belongs to him, it screams for him.
I gasp with pleasure as he slides his finger inside me, stroking quickly in a
nd out while still working his thumb and forefinger. I can’t hold on and moan as the waves crash all around me. I’m panting and almost fall to the floor in ecstasy.
He catches me and pulls me back up into his arms. I’m still swollen, aching for more.
“Baby, your face when you come...it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. If you moan like that with just my fingers, I can’t fucking wait to hear you scream when I slide inside you again.”
God. That drives me over the edge. “Holt,” I whisper to him. Pleading. I need more. So much more. I’ll never be full of him.
Something changes in him then. I can feel it. The tenderness is suddenly gone, replaced by urgency. There’s fire in his eyes.
The hardness of his chest is up against mine as he forces me down onto my bed. Standing over me, he reaches for my skirt and jerks both it and my panties off with one forceful yank. He cups my breasts and tugs at my bra, ripping it off.
Aside from the boots still on my feet, I’m completely naked before him, and I can’t help covering myself with my arms. He might not like what he sees—my body has changed.
He gently pulls my arms to my sides. “Don’t hide from me, baby. I want to see you, all of you. It’s all I’ve dreamed about for so long, and now that I have you here, I want to see every inch of you, touch every part of you, kiss and taste all of you. So beautiful.”
My heart stops, my breathing is erratic. In an instant, he washes my insecurity away.
I reach down to take my boots off, but he grabs my hand to stop me.
“Don’t even think about taking those fucking boots off.”
I can’t keep up with his mood swings—sweet and sensual to demanding and controlling. I can’t decide which I like best either.
He tugs his shirt off impatiently, throwing it across the floor, and I take him in. So masculine. So tight. His body hasn’t changed. His torso, with that beautiful, intricate tattoo, the one I used to trace with my tongue, is in full view. My gaze trails to his hands as he unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down to reveal his perfect V. The zipper glides down, and a moan escapes my lips at the thought of what’s coming.
