by Bryony Kayn
Swan looked up at her. Her hands were caught in his hair, but her eyes were closed as she surrendered to the feel of his mouth. “You’re sure?” he whispered. If she backed out now, he wasn’t sure what he’d do, but he didn’t want her to have any regrets about him.
She looked down at him again, her lips curving into a sultry smile. “If you’ve changed your mind, Swan, just say so,” she said in a teasing tone, “but I’m not anywhere near ready to call it a night.”
He licked his lips but said nothing, letting his hands do his speaking. Her smile never wavered as he unfastened her jeans and slid them down her legs. Her panties followed, and she stepped out of the last of her clothing, kicking it aside out of the way.
For a long moment, Swan just let his eyes wander over her, taking in the sight of her slender body. She was all smooth skin and graceful curves, her pale hair falling behind her shoulders so that nothing was hidden from him. She was not shy and turned to let him get his fill of the sight of her. His hands moved over her body, as though to seek out and memorize every part of her. Then, not wanting to wait anymore, he stood and stripped off the rest of his clothes.
Jake waited until he was naked. When he straightened, she stepped forward, her hands going to his waist again. Swan was taller and more slender than Steve, less muscular but still strong. His black hair was as long as her own, and his skin as pale. She found that she enjoyed the sight of his body as much as he apparently enjoyed hers. She looked up at him, remembering fantasies she had had about his sensual, expressive mouth. Then she reached down to take him in her hand. His response was immediate. He took a sharp breath, his arms going around her once more, his hands moving over her sensitive skin.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” she whispered, a promise she meant to fulfill, and let him pull her closer as she held him in her hand and stroked him slowly. “I’ll give you anything you want tonight. And neither one of us will ever talk about this night again.”
“Yes,” he agreed breathlessly, dropping his head to kiss her once more. She returned his kiss with a passion she’d only hinted at months before, when they’d made out in his car. When she knelt before him, he gave himself up to her. It might only be one night, but she was going to make sure it would be one he would never forget.
Jake turned into the drive at Angel’s house, checking the rearview mirror to be sure the gate was closing behind her, then followed the curve toward the house. It was only eight thirty in the morning, and she swore when she saw the black sports car parked under the portico. Clenching her teeth, she drove out around the portico to park in the garage.
When she walked into the living room, she found Angel and Steve sitting across from each other on the matching couches, talking and drinking coffee. There was no sign of Spyk. Both men looked at her when she came into the room, and she glanced from one to the other without halting on her way to the kitchen.
“Where the hell have you been?” Steve asked tightly, and Jake wondered if he would have limited himself to just the irate question if Angel hadn’t been in the room.
“Out,” she replied shortly, hoping there was still coffee in the pot.
“We’ve been worried about you. You couldn’t call?” Steve asked, putting his cup on the table between the couches and getting up to follow her.
She shrugged, pulled a clean cup out of the cabinet, and filled it with coffee from the half-full pot. “Didn’t know I had a curfew.”
Steve rounded the end of the long counter and turned her to face him, anger clearly revealed in his dark eyes. “Where were you?” he growled, his hands on her shoulders.
She met his eyes unflinchingly. “None of your business,” she replied flatly.
“Jake,” he snarled, his hands tightening on her shoulders.
“Knock it off, Steve,” Angel said, joining them in the kitchen. By the harassed expression on his face, it seemed pretty clear that Steve had been bitching about her before she got here. Jake could just imagine how that had gone down.
Steve forced himself to let go of her, but he didn’t back off, and his eyes still held hers. “Where were you?” he asked again, an undercurrent of fury to his voice that she couldn’t help but hear.
“I already told you that’s none of your business,” she said, her voice cool in contrast to the heat in his. “I told you before, but I’ll repeat it since you apparently weren’t listening. You don’t own me. I’m tired of playing these fucking games, Steve. I’m tired of your double standard. And I’m tired of being accountable to you when you’re accountable to no one.”
Steve ground his teeth audibly, on the verge of losing his notorious temper. “I told you what would happen if you fucked around on me—” he began, but Jake cut him off.
“So, what? Should I head over to the beach house and beat the fuck out of Debra?”
“What?” Angel asked, throwing a surprised look at Steve, but the other man ignored him.
“This has nothing to do with her.”
Jake laughed softly, crossing her arms in front of her casually. “Doesn’t it?” She looked him up and down scornfully, knowing she was only making things worse, but she couldn’t help herself. They were on a steep slope now, and there weren’t any brakes. “Maybe we’d all be better off if you just went back to her full time, instead of on the sly. You wouldn’t have to check your lies at the door, and I’m sure I can find someone else to spend my time with.”
Steve was so quick that Angel had no time to intervene and Jake didn’t have a chance to even attempt to avoid him. His hand flashed out, slapping her sharply across the face, and she fell back against the counter, her mouth open in surprise.
“Steve!” Angel bellowed, grabbing the other man from behind and pulling him away from Jake.
Jake reached up and touched her cheek. It stung, bringing involuntary tears to her eyes. She shut her mouth, swallowing quickly at the extent of the anger she saw in Steve’s eyes. She just never knew when to shut up.
“Who was it?” Steve shouted, ignoring Angel, who still held his arms in a tight grip. “Was it Swan?”
She laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. She couldn’t mess up now. “He’s a sweet kid, Steve, but hardly my type. You know, though, it could have been just about anyone.”
Steve pulled forward so hard he almost managed to free himself from Angel’s grip. The guitarist hung on grimly, his eyes haunted with memories of past altercations. This kind of thing had happened before, but it had been a long time ago. There was no knowing how far Steve might push it or who would end up hurt if Angel lost his grip. “I’ll fucking kill him,” Steve snarled, and from the look in his eyes, Jake had no doubt he was sincere. “Tell me who it was, Jake. I’m warning you—”
“There’s at least twenty guys at the Neon who’d take me home,” she said softly, breaking his tirade. “And quite a few more on the Strip. And you know there’s always parties around where I can find any number of men who might talk me into a little bump and grind.” She stood her ground, knowing by Angel’s expression that it was all he could do to hold Steve back. “And baby, you know how much I like to bump and grind,” she purred, moving her hips suggestively. She tossed her hair behind her and leaned back against the counter. “To tell you the truth, Steve, I’m not so sure I ever got his name.”
That did it. With a burst of strength fueled by pure fury, Steve pulled free from the bigger man and launched himself at her. Angel lost his balance when Steve surged forward, and he fought to reverse his momentum before the other man reached Jake and did major damage to her.
Jake didn’t bother to run. It wouldn’t do any good; there was no room for her to maneuver. She wished fleetingly for one of her knives, all buried in the back of her closet down the hall. Then Steve had hold of her biceps, his grip cruel as he shoved her back hard against the marble countertop. She cried out involuntarily as the edge of the counter slammed into her lower back, then gasped as he lifted her off her feet and sat her on the counter, sliding her bac
k hard until her shoulder blades struck the upper cabinets with a thud and the rattle of dishes.
“I’m not putting up with this,” Steve said through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving hers. “I love you, Jae. Don’t you get it? Why are you trying so hard to piss me off?”
“You can’t have it both ways,” she gasped, her hands clutching at his arms. “You can’t say you love me and then go fuck someone else. I can’t take it anymore!”
Angel halted, close enough to be able to grab Steve if he had to. But he said nothing, and they both ignored him.
“I told you it was just once—” he began, but she shook her head.
“I don’t believe you,” she whispered, dropping her head so she wouldn’t have to look at him any longer. “I don’t believe anything you told me.”
He was silent, just a blur through her tangled hair and the tears burning in her eyes.
“You promised never to hurt me,” she went on, her face hidden by her hair. “And how many times have you hurt me since you said that?”
“I didn’t go, looking to get laid,” he said finally, unable or unwilling to answer her question. “It just happened.”
She lifted her head then, her eyes filled with all her anger and hurt. “Well, I did go looking. So now we’re even.”
He dropped his hands from her arms as though they’d been burned.
Without stopping to think about it, she slapped him hard. “Actually, now we’re even,” she added, her voice still soft.
Angel tensed, but Steve only reached up to gingerly touch his cheek where she’d struck him. Then he tenderly touched her face where he’d slapped her. A reddened handprint was already blooming there.
“I’m sorry, Jae,” he said in a low voice, wincing at the word that had become so fraught with meaning. “I know saying it doesn’t do any good. But I don’t know what else to say.” He stepped forward, slipping his arms around her waist to pull her against him. He hid his face in her tangled hair, holding her tightly. As strong as he was, as brutal as he could be, Jake felt him trembling as he held her.
Jake sighed soundlessly, finally putting her arms around him. She rested her chin on his shoulder and gazed silently at Angel through the distorting well of tears.
Jake sat on the couch facing the front of the house and said nothing as Steve finally left the room. A few seconds later, she heard the front door open and then close again. She dropped her face in her hands, pressing her palms against her closed eyelids. Angel had already gone, taking the back hallway to the garage. At last she was alone in the house.
The previous three hours had been nerve-wracking, and she was exhausted. She hadn’t gotten any rest the night before, spending those hours in a much more pleasurable pursuit. Now she was ready to curl up in a ball where she sat and hope for nothing more than deep and dreamless sleep.
After the altercation in the kitchen, they had returned to the living room where Steve tried over and over to get her to tell him who she’d spent the night with. She had adamantly refused, only laughing or throwing him incredulous looks when he made guesses as to who it might have been. She’d finally said, “Steve, believe it or not, I take your threats seriously. I’m not going to give you a name so you can break some guy’s fucking kneecaps! So just drop it.”
Relentless as he was, Steve hadn’t dropped it. He was one of the most strong-willed people she’d ever met, with more than a little stubbornness to go along with his very health ego. Finally, Angel had stepped in and told Steve to shut up about it. The glare Steve had given him was enough to make most people yield, but Angel was as tenacious as Steve when he wanted to be.
When it had finally become clear that the subject of her night away was the only thing Steve wanted to talk about, and equally as clear that Jake wasn’t going to discuss it, the conversation had lagged. Angel had apologized for not making it down to the club the night before, as Spyk had received a call from her frantic little sister and they had spent most of the night with her.
“She’s fine,” he said quickly, at Jake’s worried look. “I mean, as fine as she ever is, it seems. Kila was going through some old stuff and found something that belonged to Ilone. I guess it set off some memories, and suddenly she’s on the verge of a breakdown—anyway, I know you haven’t seen her, but she’s pretty fragile these days. Spyk didn’t want to leave her.”
Jake understood. She was pretty sure that even if Angel and Spyk had made it to the Neon, nothing would have come out any different. She made another pot of coffee and then chain-smoked while the two men tried to resume the conversation she’d interrupted when she came in. They’d been talking about the album they were working on, the time frame for mixing and additional recording, and possible changes to some of the arrangements. Eventually, it was time to head to the studio to meet their bandmates and get to work.
“Are you coming to T.J.’s?” Angel had asked Jake.
She’d shaken her head, not bothering to say the word.
Steve had taken her hand then. He had insisted on sitting next to her, close enough to touch, even when she might have preferred to have some distance. “Why not?” he’d asked, keeping his tone gentle.
Jake had taken a final drag off her cigarette and leaned forward to put it out in the crystal ashtray half-filled with butts. “I’m tired,” she said shortly. “I’m going to take a nap, then get ready for work.”
Steve’s mouth tightened at the oblique reminder of the previous night, but he didn’t argue with her.
Now, she pushed her fingers through her hair and forced herself to get up off the couch. If she was going to try to get some sleep, she’d better have an alarm clock handy or she might just sleep right through the beginning of her shift. She walked down the long hallway to her bedroom, a sudden smile touching her lips as she thought about the hours she’d spent with Swan. He had been just what she needed, sweet and sexy and uncomplicated. He was nowhere near the best lover she’d had, but his skill in bed wasn’t what she’d been hoping for. Instead, he’d given her a night to relax and enjoy herself without having to worry about attitude or a sudden explosion of temper. He’d told her before she left him this morning that, even if Steve came after him, he would never regret what had happened between them.
“He’ll never know,” she’d promised him, smoothing long hair away from his cyan blue eyes and sensual mouth. “But you might want to make yourself scarce for a few days. I can convince him of any lie—but I’m not so sure about you.”
Swan had laughed, perhaps a little embarrassed. He seemed to realize he was fairly easy to read. He had touched her face, his eyes seeming deep enough to drown in. “That might be a good idea.”
Leaving him this morning had been difficult. He’d been a smooth spot in a life full of jagged edges, and she wished she could have stayed longer. But it was probably best to put him behind her. If she dwelled on it, she might decide she needed more, and that would be dangerous for both of them. Best to leave it as it was and try to find some way to cope with Steve.
“Cope or cut loose,” she said to herself, pulling her clothes off and dropping them on the floor. “He can’t have it both ways anymore.” Then she slid under the sheets, turning onto her side to check that her alarm was set for four o’clock. Within moments, she was asleep.
“Hey, sexy,” Nikky said, slipping his arms around Jake from behind.
“Hey,” she replied, looking up at him over her shoulder, and smiled. “I didn’t see you come in.”
“You’ve been busy,” he said, rubbing her stomach with one hand. “When’s your break?”
She chuckled. “About half an hour. Why?”
“Gonna dance with me?” he asked, grinning down at her.
“Absolutely,” she agreed, putting her hand over his for a moment. “I’ll see you in a bit.” Then she pulled away from him and headed to her next table.
Nikky stood where he was, watching her thread her way through the crowd. She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt with the slee
ves rolled up to her elbows. Knowing her as well as he did and her preference for sleeveless shirts or tank tops, he assumed she was hiding bruises. He shook his head, his grin having disappeared. Why the hell did the same old shit have to keep coming around?
Half an hour later, Jake approached the table where he sat with a curvaceous brunette on his lap. Jake winked and beckoned with one finger while the brunette glared at her, but Nikky didn’t give her a chance to speak.
“Break time?” he asked, putting his hands on the woman’s hips and lifting her off him.
“Yeah,” Jake replied as Nikky stood and put his arm around her waist.
“I’ll be back,” he told the brunette, who was pouting. With the expression on her face, she looked like a spoiled five-year-old. “Save my spot,” he added, then walked with Jake to the dance floor.
There was a new band playing tonight, a blues-based rock group called Player. Nikky had seen them play at some other clubs and liked their music. Jake seemed to like it as well. As soon as they reached a clear spot on the dance floor, she turned and put her arms around Nikky’s neck and began to groove. Her belly was pressed to his, their hips moving together, and she smiled up at him as his hands moved over her back.
Steve stood at the edge of the dance floor watching Jake and Nikky dance. Unable to halt the direction of his thoughts, he had to wonder—was Nikky the one she’d spent the night with? The man had been making moves on her for years, but Steve had never believed it would ever go beyond teasing. Nikky was one of the very few men he’d always trusted around Jake. Now he didn’t know what to think. Only his desire not to have security called on him a second time in as many nights kept him from interrupting the couple on the dance floor.
Jake closed her eyes, letting the feel of Nikky’s body against hers be her guide. As always, dancing with Nikky was a blast. He knew her moves better than anyone and was never reticent about putting his hands on her. He let his hands roam down her back to her ass, then around to her slender hips as she swayed them provocatively. His palms slid up her sides to her ribs, thumbs touching the underside of her breasts, but she just kept smiling.
