Then he bends his head and presses his lips to mine, and something inside of me explodes. Just bursts open and floods my senses. Everything is Dez now—I touch his skin, hear his groan, smell his cologne, taste his very essence, and see his eyes when I open mine.
We’re both breathing hard, and he leans into me. I can feel his hard on as it presses against my abdomen. His lips come down on mine harder this time, crushing my resistance along with my tender flesh. I lick at him, and he groans.
“Inside,” he breathes and I fumble with the plastic card behind my back. I hear a soft beep and a click. Dez puts his hand on the lever and I feel the door give way behind me. We stumble into the darkened room, hands and mouths seeking, pelvises grinding. He pushes me up against the wall next to the door as it swings closed. The room is silent except for our breaths—hard, fast, urgent.
He tugs on the shoulder of my blouse, yanking it down far enough that he can place his lips on the top of my shoulder. Like silk, he glides them over my skin, eliciting a sigh from me that sounds as if it comes from the very depths of my soul.
I need to feel more of him, more skin, more warmth, more of everything. I pull at his button-up struggling to open the placket. He leans back. “Off,” he whispers as he pulls my blouse up and over my head.
“You too,” I gasp, finally yanking the last button out of the hole and running my hands over his smooth, bare skin from ridged abs to perfect shoulders. His shirt slides off with my strokes and falls to the floor at our feet. We both stand in the nearly dark room for a moment, our eyes now adjusted and just able to make out the shadows of each other’s forms.
He places his hands alongside my breasts reverently. “You’re so beautiful, Shannon.” He leans down and kisses the top curves of my cleavage. “A piece of exquisite art.”
I can’t help the arch that slides down my spine, bringing me in closer contact with his torso and his lips. I moan when the sweet press of his lips leaves my chest.
Then his hands are in my hair and his mouth is on mine, lips questing, tongue seeking. He grips my hair so hard it stings, and that only turns me on more.
I kiss him back, just as hard, nipping at his lower lip and grinding against the leg he’s placed between my thighs. He cups my breasts and squeezes with the perfect amount of pressure, my nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. The arousal shoots straight to my core and it’s so intense I’m afraid I’m going to come right then and there.
Dez’s skin is perfect, and his body is delicious. I let my hands roam freely over his chest and abs, the lean muscle like steel under my fingertips. He bites gently at my neck, cursing at the same time when I reach down to slide my hand along his rigid erection.
“Oh, God,” he grits out as he thrusts into my grip. He dots kisses along my cheeks and forehead. “Don’t you want to make it to the bed? Cause we won’t if you keep doing that.”
I chuckle. “You’re so big, Dez,” I whisper, saucy and hot. “I want to feel every inch of you.”
He gasps as I give his cock a squeeze. “You’re evil, you know that?” he asks. I grin at him.
Then, before I can do any more damage he pushes my skirt up and yanks my underwear to one side, running a single finger through my slit.
“And you’re so wet, baby,” he growls.
I can’t answer him though because he’s found my clit and is circling it slowly, the perfect pressure, the perfect pace. I swivel my hips in time with his ministrations and every muscle in my body tenses. I have to grasp his biceps in an effort to keep upright, because whatever is rolling through me is going to pack a powerful punch.
It’s not until he slips two fingers inside of me that I come apart, and it’s absolutely glorious. Wave after wave of mindless, pure pleasure. It cascades through my entire body, and I hear my own cries as I scream Dez’s name.
When I begin to regain the ability to think, Dez is plastered to me from head to toe, his fingers still inside me, and his breath hot and heavy in my ear.
“I have never wanted something as badly as I want you right now,” he hisses.
I swallow, because given what just happened, I can tell that having sex with him is going to change me—on a molecular level. There is no way I can have Dez Takimoto inside of me and not be a different person afterwards. And it terrifies me. So I do what women who don’t want to let it go that far have been doing for centuries. I drop to my knees.
His hands fly to the wall in front of him, bracing himself as I none too gently unbutton and unzip his jeans, peeling them and his boxer briefs down in one quick motion. His dick is rock hard, skin stretched tight. I fist it, touching my tongue to the tip, tasting salt and something else so uniquely Dez that I can’t help but close my mouth around him, sliding as far down the shaft as I can.
“Ah! Fuck!” he grunts, thrusting slightly into my mouth.
I begin a slow rhythmic slide up to the tip, then back down to the base, my hand following the motions of my mouth. Every third or fourth slide I add suction, and he jolts against the arm I have wrapped around his narrow hips.
At last I’m in control of things—although barely—and I feel a slight lessening of the pressure in my chest. I know how to do this. Sex. Good. Dirty. Raw. There don’t have to be all these feelings that Dez keeps talking about. There don’t have to be expectations. Just release, and I’m going to give Dez one hell of a release.
I’m about to move one hand to his balls, sensing that he’s got to be close, when his phone rings from the pocket of the jeans on the floor with me.
“Ignore it,” he gasps, giving a harder pump as I suck on the crown.
I release my hold on his hips and cup his balls, which are big, and taut, ready for the explosion. The ringing stops, then starts up again immediately.
“Fuck!” he shouts, pulling away from my mouth and hands. He shuffles a few steps back, trying not to trip over his pants around his ankles. I can’t help but giggle and I hear him swearing more as he pulls the pants and briefs up. When he has them around his hips he reaches into the pocket and pulls out his phone.
“It’s Blaze,” he says. “He’d never call twice in a row unless it was important.”
I stand as gracefully as a person can when topless with their skirt rucked up around their hips having just been giving a blow job.
“It’s fine, answer it,” I tell him.
He swipes at the glowing screen. “Yeah, what’s up?” he asks, a tenseness in his voice I’ve never heard before.
He paces the room as he talks, and I can tell immediately that something bad has happened. He turns on a small lamp on an end table and I see the worry and stress in his face as he runs a hand through his black hair.
I busy myself by straightening my clothes. Then as I’m about to slip into the bedroom he turns and sees me. His eyes are hurt and he points at me indicating I shouldn’t leave. I give him a tight smile and lean against the door with my arms crossed.
“Okay, man, tell Tully and Savannah that I’m sending all the love their way. And as soon as the plans are set I’ll be there. Just let me know if you need anything in the meantime.”
They end the call and he takes a deep breath before facing me again.
“What’s going on?” I ask, surprised at how small my voice sounds after the enormity of emotions that have been swirling around the room.
Dez’s face is so sad I have to catch myself before I take a step forward and envelop him in my arms, wanting to do anything to wipe that expression away.
“Tully’s brother-in-law, Kevin, was killed at the bar he owns tonight.”
“What?” I’ve only met Tully a few times, but one of those was when her sister and brother-in-law were with her at a concert. A sweet young couple with a small child. They own an authentic Irish pub in Portland.
Dez begins pacing again. “Kevin was tending bar like he usually does and Tully’s sister, Savannah, was cleaning up some tables. It was nearly closing time and there was only one table of guys left, some biker dudes who said th
ey were just passing through town.
“I guess one of the guys grabbed Savannah, and not just a pat on the ass, he had one hand on her crotch and one on her tit when Kevin got to him. Kevin told the guy Savannah was his wife and they needed to pack up and go home. The guy’s friends stood up and got in Kevin’s face.”
My heart is hammering now, because even knowing how it ended it’s so horrible to imagine, and I’m terrified that while Kevin lost his life, Savvy might have suffered something nearly as bad.
Dez swallows and his voice drops. “Kevin’s not stupid, he and Savvy were there alone. He told the guys he’d wipe their tab, they just needed to take a walk and leave he and Savvy alone. But one of the guys shoved him and Savvy screamed. Kevin did the only thing he could and took a swing at the guy. The dude who had Savvy pulled a gun out of the back of his belt and shot Kevin point blank in the face while Savvy was two feet away.”
Tears spring to my eyes and I gasp. “Oh my God. Oh God.”
Dez shakes his head. “Yeah. Luckily the other guys freaked then and grabbed their trigger happy friend and ran.”
“Tully’s sister…”
“She had the presence of mind to call 911 right away, but Kevin was dead before he even hit the floor.”
“Don’t they have a baby?” I ask, my stomach roiling in horror.
“Yeah. He’s four.”
Neither one of us says anything for a couple of minutes then. Because there are some things in life that words can’t approach, at least not right away. Maybe at some point in the future there will be words to explain or soothe or memorialize the completely senseless death of an upstanding young man who was protecting his wife, but right now, a few hours later, there are none.
“I’m so sorry, Dez,” I finally add. Lame, but also terribly true. I am sorrier than I’ve ever been about anything in my entire life.
“Me too,” he sighs. Then he walks over and puts an arm around me, kissing me softly on the forehead. I try not to stiffen under his touch, because whatever was happening between us thirty minutes ago is done now, and I need to get away from him before the spell weaves itself around me tighter.
“I’ll need to go to the funeral.”
“Of course,” I answer, pulling away and entering business mode. “We can have one of the other guys come out to fill in. It’s not a problem, I built it into the contract that any of the five of you could do it so that no one would have to drop everything for eight whole weeks.”
He rubs my arm softly. “Thank you for that,” he says. “You take good care of us.”
“What can I do for Blaze and Tully?” I ask.
He leans in and kisses my forehead again. I’m not sure he even realizes he’s doing it. He’s so distressed I think it’s simply an attempt at gaining comfort. “Right now Tully is with Savannah, obviously, and Blaze is dealing with the rest of everything, helping Tully’s mom talk to the police and the hospital, the funeral home.”
“Oh, God.”
“He has to be strong for Tully right now, but in a week or two he’s going to need a reminder to get to his meetings and use whatever help he needs to keep level.”
“Okay, just let me know. I’ll kick his ass if need be and until then let’s get some flowers and food sent to Savannah and the family. I’ll get the office working on that first thing in the morning. Also, let’s have the band cover the funeral expenses out of the slush fund. It’s a drop in the hat for you guys, but it would mean a lot to a new widow with a small business to run and a child to raise alone. No reason she needs to start on that journey with debt.”
“You’re the best,” he says, his voice rough as he pulls me into an embrace.
“You should get some sleep,” I tell him pulling away yet again because it kind of hurts to be held by him. “I’ll check in first thing in the morning.”
He nods, watching me closely. “About earlier,” he begins.
I shake my head. “We can worry about that later. We need to help Blaze and Tully now.”
“Okay, but we are going to be talking about it.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Dez.”
After Dez leaves I lean against the wall and let the tears roll down my cheeks. I don’t know if I’m crying for Kevin, Savannah or me, but it doesn’t really matter because either way we all lost something tonight.
Dez
The banging at the door drives me out of the worst night of sleep I’ve had in ages. I take a minute before I open my eyes to breathe and orient myself. I can smell Shannon on me—strawberries and ambition—along with the fresh linens of the hotel bed. Then it all comes rushing back to me—Shannon on her knees, my dick in her hot, wet mouth, her silky hair brushing against my bare thighs, the feeling of out of control bliss and want, then the phone call, and Savannah and Tully and Blaze. The fucking irreparable tragedy. The way my gut lurched when Blaze said the words, “Some sick fuck shot Kevin tonight. He’s dead.”
We all know there is evil in the world, but it’s easy to ignore it much of the time. Then something happens that makes it impossible to look away, and we have to come to terms with the fact that no matter how in balance we might be personally, the world has never been, and might never be.
The knocking booms through the suite again. I clear my throat as I sit up and pull on last night’s jeans, then run a hand through my hair before pulling open the door. Someone from the concierge desk is there, waiting patiently, a note in his hand.
“Mr. Takimoto?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“This is for you, sir.”
“Great, thanks.” I reach into my pocket to find some cash to press into his hand before I take the note and shut the door.
As I sit down heavily on the sofa and open the paper that’s been folded in half, I find Shannon’s loopy bold handwriting covering the page.
Dez:
I’m sorry to hit you with this first thing this morning, but when it rains it pours. The women from last night must have gone straight to the National Tattler, the story broke this morning, it’s on every major gossip site. I was able to get the police to hold off on questioning Garrett until after the event tonight. They questioned other guests at the restaurant who said all he did was try to remove the woman from his lap, so they aren’t intending to press charges, but they need his statement to close out the case.
Please be at the venue by one and make sure Garrett is with you.
--Shannon.
I close the note and sigh. Shannon’s father is going to be pissed, which means that Shannon will close right back up. I’ve watched her chase after his approval for three years, and my guess is that she’s chasing more than that. I’m sure daddy’s approval is a big fat indicator of his love, and from what I can tell she’s rarely had that.
After showering and changing, I head to Garrett’s, hoping that he’s in better shape than he was last night. He hardly knows Savannah, but he adores Tully, and now I have to tell him this awful news, he needs to hold it together through this.
I’m stepping off the elevator when I see someone leaving his room down the hall. Knowing that he shouldn’t have anyone but room service at his door right now, I hang back, standing at the entrance to the elevator where I won’t be noticed.
“It was really nice to meet you,” coos a brunette wearing Daisy Dukes and a skin-tight cropped top.
“Yeah, babe, thanks for stopping by,” Garrett responds, his tone desolate and cold.
“Maybe we can hook up again next time you’re in town?” She’s so hopeful. I wonder where she thinks this could go?
“Yeah, we’ll see. I’ve got your number where you sharpied it on my chest, so don’t think I can forget it.”
She giggles.
“So, yeah, I’ve uh, really got to go now. Work and all. I’ll check you later.” He starts to close the door on her. She demands one more kiss, and he obliges, but barely. I can feel the negative energy rolling off of him from my position ten yards down the hallway.
W
hen his door finally closes I continue on, passing the girl in the hall as I go. She doesn’t even notice me because she’s too busy texting. Undoubtedly telling all her girlfriends that she just bagged Garrett Jakes.
I don’t have long to wonder what the hell changed for Garrett between last night and this morning because I’m at his door, and the only way to find out the real story is to talk to the man himself.
He answers, wrapped in a terry cloth robe, his eyes bleary and hair standing on end everywhere.
“Hey, bro,” he says, gesturing for me to enter.
“Hey. What’s going on?” I ask.
“Nothing much, just woke up. I was about to order some food. You want something?”
I realize I haven’t eaten yet today, so I take him up on the offer. After we’ve nailed down the room service order I get comfortable on his sofa while he throws on some clothes in the next room.
“So what’d you do last night after we left?” I yell to him.
He comes out, buttoning his jeans before he pulls on a Henley that has Property of Rhapsody written on it.
“Drank until I fell asleep. Woke up and ordered room service with you,” he answers.
I blink at him. In the five years I’ve worked and been friends with Garrett I’ve never known him to lie. Never. He’s a child, but he’s always been an honest one. If he screws up—which he does a lot—he’ll own it every time. Something inside tells me not to push him on this right now though, so I let it go.
“You have a hangover?”
“Not too bad,” he answers, walking to the window and looking out, his face a mask of indifference. He turns back to me and I can see the sorrow in his eyes. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know that one way or another I’ll have to find out.
“I’ve got some bad news, and then some more bad news, dude.”
He looks at me, and I can see that he already knows.
“They went to the press,” he says.
“Yeah. It’s everywhere this morning. I’m sorry.”
He scratches his red goatee, before sitting in the armchair across from me, propping his bare feet up on the coffee table between us.
Racing to Rhapsody: A Rhapsody Novel Page 7
