Crush (A Night Fire Novel Book 1)

by TM Watkins

  I reached out to him, pressing my hand to his heart.

  “That this was worth fighting for but you know what Curtis? He shouldn't have to do that. That's your job. You screwed up and all you can give me is that you don't have a memory of it and please don't leave, I was distracted by the beer. I don't want to change you.”

  My hand slipped away as I stepped back.

  “But I'm not going to accept this nonsense. I understand that you haven't had the greatest of role models in your life but your inability to accept responsibility is not good enough. You need to earn trust and build a relationship with me that is so strong that when we've got kids running around and you go on tour, I don't have to lay in bed of a night wondering if you are behaving yourself. Does that make sense to you?”

  He nodded solemnly and with a deep sigh he rubbed his neck again.

  “Okay so I totally fucked up last night. I shouldn't have even come down here. The temptation to have another drink was too easy.”

  “What are you going to do about that?”

  “Bottle of water on the bedside.” He paused for a moment. “Admit I have a problem. Get help. Don't drink anymore.”

  Curtis reached out for a hand that was on my hip, hoping to pull me back. I didn't want to be cruel, I couldn't push him away completely. His touch was so gentle, so unsure.

  “I'm sorry Frankie.” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “Please don't leave.”

  “These are my rules. If you can't trust yourself then you can't put yourself in that kind of situation again. I can't be watching over you all the time, I can't live a life of distrust. If you cheat on me then there is nothing that you can say to me that will convince me to stay. You will go to therapy not just for the alcoholism but for the issues with your family and you will go to AA meetings. Agreed?”

  I held my hand out and waited, my heart thumping hard. His hand reached out for mine, taking it firmly and pulling me in. He lifted them around his neck, letting his hands drift down my back.

  “Agreed.”

  Curtis kissed me hard, making me moan with desperation. Strong hands lifted my legs around his waist. He turned me and pressed me against the bench, kissing down my neck as he unbuttoned my shirt.

  “Curtis.”

  My voice was soft and filled with need as his fingers pulled back the lace of my bra. A heavy sizzle buzzed through my mind as his teeth grated over my nipple. His voracious hunger continued as he kissed over my collar bone and over my neck, both hands were under my skirt moving higher.

  A door shutting roused us from our moment, the soft steps of someone walking through the house made for a frantic few moments. Curtis set me to my feet as I pushed my skirt back down, quickly fumbling through the buttons.

  “Mister Andrews the stylists has arrived.”

  “Good, set them to work on Eden first.”

  “What?” A screech echoed from the depths of the house.

  Seconds later a fuming Eden walked into the kitchen. I didn't realize how close they all were, otherwise we would not have been getting so frisky in the kitchen.

  “I'm not going to the ceremony. I don't have a dress.”

  “Jack would you mind finding something for Eden please?”

  “Certainly sir.”

  The mountain of a man left the room, Curtis took my hand and led me out of the room effectively ignoring the protests from Eden.

  In the entry was a man and a woman, the other security guy was standing beside them.

  “They can set up in the downstairs bathroom, there's a room beside it to dress in. Eden's up first.

  Curtis smiled broadly at her as she continued to protest, the security guy gently ushered her down the wide corridor. The stylists followed after them with their many bags.

  Once they had their backs to us, Curtis leaned over and threw me onto his shoulder. Back in our room I was pulled back down and pressed against the closed door. Buttons flicked across the room as he ripped open my shirt, burying himself into my chest. I could feel his fingers gripping the material of my skirt, readying to rip it.

  “Favorite skirt.” I panted.

  His head pulled away from my chest and looked down at the tight black skirt.

  “So it is. Think I might buy you a dozen of these.”

  The material was pushed over my hips and with one great rip my panties were on the floor. I heard his pants hit the floor before I even knew he'd undone the zip.

  “Oh god.” I gasped, gripping his back tight as he delved deep into me.

  With each thrust I felt the burn of pleasure and pain. The sensations were so deliriously good, my body rippled with pure need as I moaned with each movement. His lips pressed hard against mine, mashing them together, tongues moving in and out darting around with reckless abandon.

  One purely hedonistic fuck. There wasn't anything romantic about it but I didn't care.

  My body convulsed, flushing with an orgasm that made me cry out louder. Curtis buried his face into the curve of my neck, his groan rumbling against the skin.

  We stayed like that for some time, kissing softly and a giggle when Jaxon could be heard complaining that daddy was hurting mommy one.

  Curtis set me to my feet and offered a sheepish smile, yet again he'd forgotten the condom.

  “Must be something about the skirt, forget all reason when you wear it.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I wandered into the bathroom and removed the destroyed shirt. The bra and skirt had survived. As I stood under the water and let the water cascade over me, Curtis wandered in and began to undress. When he removed his shirt and turned his back to me, I slapped my hand to my mouth and held back the sob.

  There, in bright red letters was a message. Someone had written on his back in lipstick. It explained why he wasn't wearing a shirt when he came back to bed.

  “Frankie, what's the matter?”

  “Look at your back.”

  Curtis frowned as he struggled to read the message on his back.

  “I can't see.” he huffed. “I can see a letter, is it an I?”

  I nodded as tears flowed down my cheeks, joining the warm water pooling at my feet.

  “What does it say Frankie?”

  “I love you Frankie. Marry me?”

  “Really?” he turned to look in the mirror again. “Huh. Guess I must have gotten someone to write it for me. Doesn't explain the rest of it though.”

  He wandered into the shower and pulled me into his arms.

  “Must have scratched it and gone to the toilet, gotten it everywhere.”

  “Curtis.” I pulled back, feeling like absolute shit.

  I'd given him hell over this, almost walked away.

  “No, don't go there Frankie. I was drunk, it's not the way to ask that question. Is it?”

  When I tried to protest he pressed his fingers to my lips with a frown.

  “You had every right to assume the worst, trust me. I can see how it looks and I agree with you that it could easily be misconstrued. You said that neither of us knew what happened, you weren't there and I was drunk. That's what you were more worried about, weren't you?”

  I nodded, his biggest demon was the bottle.

  He kissed me once, a gentle tug on my bottom lip as his hands cupped my face.

  “I have a problem and I'm going to deal with it. Waking up in a bathroom, finding your bags packed and you weren't in the bedroom, it made me realize how I could go from everything to nothing in a split second. I don't want to wake up on a cold bathroom floor ever again. I don't want a life without you in it. And this.”

  His fingers circled around my stomach, a grin curling into the corner of his mouth.

  “You might not think that you are but I believe that you are. I don't want to miss out on any of this.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The cameras flashed, a wall of white light that blinked furiously at us. Curtis looked incredible in a suit, a black jacket and pants with a white shirt and black tie. It was a simple combi
nation but he looked so freaking gorgeous it was taking all my strength not to push him back into the limousine so that we could return to the house. His hand was on the small of my back, toying with the edge of the dress and the exposed skin.

  I had been taped to death, the stylist looked at the dress and my over abundant breasts and nearly keeled over. So this was her solution, tape them up and hold them down. Everything was taped, not just keeping them up but keeping the headlights off, holding the dress onto my shoulders and generally ensuring that I didn't have a wardrobe malfunction.

  Eden had suffered at the hands of the stylist too. Jack had returned with a strapless steel blue dress that looked stunning on her. Except that she had been gifted with generous cleavage as well. She was strapped up into the dress, the tape holding the girls so high it made her look like she was two sizes larger. When she came out into the entry there were four drooling men and one that was trying to pretend he wasn't looking.

  Eden and the boys were a few steps ahead of us, clearly the press had figured out that Eden wasn't involved with any of them and she wasn't as interesting as what I was. One of them yelled out to us, requesting a kiss for the cameras. Of course Curtis was only happy to oblige them and as he lowered in for a sweet peck, the bastard put his hand on my stomach. Okay so it was more to one side but it was enough to send them into a frenzy, asking if I was pregnant.

  We didn't answer, leaving it to them to speculate as they pleased. I wasn't prepared to enter into any form of conversation about it, argue with him or even pull his hand away. In that one little moment all I could see was his parents finding out about us and maybe even the pregnancy through the media. Not that I was pregnant mind you, but for this I was.

  Go team Curtis.

  As we walked further along the red carpet, I wondered how long it would take for the internet to be flooded with talk of what was going on. We stopped again, this time it was in a little interview corner. I stepped aside and waited beside Eden as the boys chatted to the interviewer. Eden leaned closer to me.

  “Are you two pretending to be pregnant for any particular reason?”

  I grinned widely as I leaned a little closer.

  “Relationship with his parents is caustic, call this a little stab at them.”

  “I see.” she hummed with a little mirth. “May I suggest you push the belly out a little, the cameras are watching you and a little roundness will be most beneficial.”

  It wasn't easy but I managed to push a little out. The cameras were always going off so to know if it had worked or not I wouldn't know.

  With the next artist moving closer the interview was kept short, they seemed to have everyone moving in and out at a fast pace. Ask a few questions and then off you go. Curtis was by my side again with a humorous look on his face.

  “Go team Curtis?”

  I nodded and gave the cameras what they secretly wanted, us kissing again.

  Once we were seated, Curtis began to fidget. I took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze and a smile to the nervous face that was watching me.

  “You can do this. It's just another performance.”

  He nodded and returned the squeeze.

  “Don't know what I'd do if you weren't here.”

  Eden appeared at the end of the row in a fluster. She had gone backstage to ensure that their things had arrived, to check in with the stage manager and whatever else it was that she rambled on about.

  “You've been pushed ahead in the schedule.” she whispered loudly. “Someone canceled out due to illness so you need to get in there now.”

  Curtis sighed, his lips twitched with a smile.

  “Hey, at least it gets it over and done with, right? You can relax for the rest of the evening and enjoy the night.”

  “Except that we're up for awards.”

  He leaned in and kissed me.

  “Good luck. I believe in you and I know you will be great, as always.”

  “Thanks babe.”

  As soon as the seats were empty, the seat fillers sat down. The man nodded at me with a polite smile which I returned. I sat back in my seat, pulling my phone out of my bag and did a quick search around the internet. Yes, my fat little stomach was out there.

  The host for the evening was some rapper I had never heard of, he was pretty good at chatting to the audience and even managed to get a few laughs. With his introduction and a bit of chatter over, they started with a performance from a young female starlet. Her number was upbeat and lively, she moved across the stage like she was full of energy.

  “Coke.” the man beside me whispered with a conspiratorial smile. “Surprising, isn't it?”

  “Sadly, no. Her life will go down the drain because of it.”

  He nodded, turning to look at the stage. The colors of the lights flashed across the audience, making them glow in hues of blues and pinks. I turned back to the view of the young woman, wondering how she had been introduced to the drug. It made me worry for Curtis and the others, I hadn't seen any evidence of drugs but it didn't mean there wasn't any.

  A bag of drugs could be hidden in a pocket and no one would be any wiser, at least with alcohol you could see the drink in their hand. Unless they were doing it behind closed doors which I suspected Curtis was. In that monstrous house there would be a stash of alcohol and I knew it was going to be a task to find it.

  Maybe he might offer its location freely though I doubted it. Just because he says he's going to quit, doesn't make it so. The path to sobriety is a hard one but I wasn't going to back away from it. If it ended up that I was the strong one that carried him through this then that's the way that it will be. I couldn't walk away and leave him staggering around that cavernous mansion, alone and drunk.

  People clapping made me snap out of my thoughts, I quickly joined in and hoped that no one noticed the distant look on my face. Chalk it up to fake pregnancy hormones.

  The host came back out and driveled out some inane and sickly sweet comments about the performance and the artist. I mindlessly wondered if he was trying to get into her pants. Or maybe he already was. He continued on with the first award, of which she was a contender. She was waiting off to the side as the camera focused on her she gave a cheesy grin and a wave.

  I had tuned out again, seconds after her far too happy smile everyone was clapping and she was walking across the stage. I clapped along with the crowd, smiling at the view. Blah.

  She gave her acceptance speech which I noted was a little dragged out. Not a slur but almost like she was tired and struggling to form the words correctly. But she was sprightly and alert so no one took any notice.

  The host presented another award, a young man rose from his seat and took to the stage. I had no clue who he was either. It was rather sad actually, I had spent the last year engrossed in my own life that I hadn't seen the rest of the world as it was. I worked to pay the bills, I auditioned for dance positions to live the dream. Anything else was ignored.

  I sat up as the lights dimmed, the host was clapping as he stepped back into the shadows. Everyone was politely clapping. My heart thudded hard as I saw Austin step up to the microphone, Evan appearing at the side with his guitar in hand.

  As the lights rose, Evan struck out the first chord. A wave of music washed over us, loud and harsh. I was raised in a house that was religious but not fanatical. It was true to say that my mother might be a bit extreme at times but she wasn't the kind of person that would sit and tell you about the good word of the lord. But being raised in a house like that, it made me go to the other end of the extreme. I could almost be considered an atheist except that I managed to scream out to god during sex. But when I looked to Curtis sitting behind the wall of drums, I wanted to get onto my knees and pray that everything worked out well for him.

  As Evan played, Jaxon and Fraser followed. The pounding beat of drums echoed across the hall and I sighed with relief. He had done it. He had conquered the fears of performing here and was totally kicking ass. The guy beside me wa
s singing along, totally getting into his own little groove.

  “You're a fan of Night Fire?”

  He nodded, continuing to sing.

  “You know where you're sitting, right?”

  He nodded again, a big grin slicked across his face as he sang.

  “Okay then.” I grinned and sat back in my seat.

  Austin commanded full attention, his presence was always dominating. For the quiet guy that sat in the corner with his phone glued to his hand, it seemed quite odd. It was almost like he had an onstage personality, one that was the front man of a band, led the group through the songs and wielded a special something that kept everyone glued.

  Jaxon was still the joker, even if he was being serious. He was at the front of the stage, grinning and nodding at someone. I couldn't see who it was but based on the women he seemed to loiter near, she'd be blonde.

  Evan was probably the most serious of them all, his fingers moving across the strings at a rapid pace. His head was lowered as he concentrated, only looking up on the odd occasion.

  Fraser was at the back of the stage, standing near Curtis and his drum kit. I wondered if he was talking to him but maybe this was their solution to keeping Curtis relaxed.

  A few minutes later and the song was done, everyone politely clapped as they did and I smiled hard. It was a competition between me and the guy next to me, trying to outdo each other in the clapping department. It was no longer the polite clap that everyone else offered. Then the bastard outdid me by sticking his fingers in his mouth and whistling.

  “Oo, that is so cheeky.” I grinned at him.

  He shrugged with a smug smile.

  “You can't outdo me.” I said supremely as I stood to my feet.

  “Go team Curtis.” I yelled across the hall.

  Everyone, band included looked at me. I could hear the bastard beside me laughing.

  “Err, thanks Frankie.” Austin said into the microphone.

  “No problem!” I grinned and sat back down.