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Reckless Beat Box Set #2

Page 61

by Eden Summers


  “So, how are you going to tell her?”

  Ryan threw his arms wide, fucking clueless. “I’m still hoping inspiration hits before I get upstairs.”

  “Want my advice?”

  “No.”

  Mason laughed. “Well, you’re going to get it anyway. I suggest making sure she’s on the other side of a locked door. Or tied to a secure structure.”

  “Thanks for stating the blindingly obvious.” A loud whistle split the lobby and Ryan glanced toward the sound, finding Sean waving them toward the elevators. “Good timing.”

  Mason started forward.

  “Wait a second.” Ryan placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Before we get upstairs, I wanted to thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Supporting me even though my decision is going to fuck with the band.”

  Mason shrugged. “We’ll bounce back. We always do. And besides, it’s not only you I’m supporting. It’s Leah. Reckless never would’ve made it this far without her.”

  “Have you ever told her that?”

  “And ruin the dynamic we’ve got going on?” Mason started for the elevators. “Nah. We’re right where we need to be. If she knew how much I adored her it’d get weird. And I don’t like weird. I prefer the bitter animosity we share.”

  “Right…” It made no sense. But then again, nothing they’d done tonight had.

  “Who’s sharing bitter animosity?” Sean asked, holding open the elevator doors.

  “Leah.” Ryan stepped inside the confined space, Mason following close behind. “How is she?”

  “I convinced her to pass out about an hour ago and I’m not looking forward to seeing what happens when she wakes up.” He pressed the button to the top floor. “I suggest greeting her with a mouth and groin guard.”

  “He doesn’t want suggestions,” Mason announced. “Lover boy thinks he knows best.”

  Sean chuckled. “Then we should have the paramedics on standby.”

  Ryan ignored the banter as they ascended. He appreciated the distraction technique; really, he did. But he needed to focus. He still hadn’t figured out how to break the news. Inspiration hadn’t even hit once they quietly made their way into the penthouse, Blake and Mitch greeting them in the living room.

  “Hey,” Blake murmured. “How’d you do?”

  “Not as good as we’d hoped.” Mason made for the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of soda from the fridge. “We had to settle for Plan B.”

  “So that means…” Mitch let the sentence hang.

  “Yeah.” Mason nodded. “It means more fun times ahead.”

  The resulting silence hit Ryan with a truckload of guilt. This was all on him. He’d been selfish. He’d put himself first. And no matter how much it made his chest ache, he couldn’t regret it.

  “What was Plan B?” Leah’s voice murmured from the other end of the room.

  He swung around, finding her leaning on one shoulder against the hallway wall, her suit crushed, her hair loose and framing her face. Those beautiful eyes blinked in lazy strokes, the blush of sleep darkening her cheeks. “Give me a second.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and turned on her toes, walking out of view.

  “Do you plan on telling her alone?” Mitch asked.

  “Yeah.” He deserved the brunt of her anger. Nobody else. She was independent. Resourceful. Accomplished. It wouldn’t be easy for her to accept what he’d done. He could barely accept it himself.

  “Want me to go in first and remove any loose items she might want to throw?”

  Ryan met Mason’s gaze, hearing the humor but also seeing the concern staring back at him. “I can handle it.”

  Mason nodded. “Do right by her.”

  “I will.”

  * * *

  Leah sat at the foot of the bed, listening to the mutterings of an ominous conversation in the living room. There was no excitement. No whispers of celebration.

  She heard his footsteps approach, could see his frame through her periphery as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

  “Leah…” His voice was so soft. So sweet.

  She raised her head and met his gaze.

  “You know I love you, right?”

  Her stomach dropped. “That’s not how you start this conversation, Ryan.”

  “And the guys…” He continued, “They love you, too.”

  Her pulse spiked. Breathing became hard. She wanted to shake this beautiful man. To shake and shake and shake until he divulged the disaster he’d created. “Please, don’t drag this out.”

  His expression faded. There was no warmth, no heat, no sense of hope to cling to.

  “I had a meeting with your boss.”

  She closed her eyes and hung her head. “I know.”

  “I’m sorry, but I had to.” He came to stand before her and crouched at her feet. “I thought I could convince him to change your contract.”

  “But you couldn’t. Could you?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  A ragged breath escaped her lips. “How much does he know?”

  “Everything. We tried—”

  “And when you failed, he fired me.”

  Ryan winced. It was all the confirmation she needed. “I’m sorry, but please hear me—”

  “You had no right.” She pushed to her feet and slid from reach.

  “Let me explain.” He grabbed her waist, swinging her around, making her compliant with his hard stare. “You need to know how I fixed this.” He backed her into the wall, his weight crushing, his possession maddening. “I found a way for us to be together.”

  She denied him with a jut of her chin. “Bruce never would’ve agreed.”

  “You’re right. He didn’t. But he said I could buy out the clause for two million dollars.”

  “Oh my god.” Her mouth gaped as she struggled in his hold. “You didn’t…”

  “No. I didn’t. But I would’ve. Two million. Three million. Ten.” He got in her face, his nose almost brushing hers. “I don’t give a fuck. I would’ve done it if Mason hadn’t insisted on taking another option first.”

  His harsh tone. His cursing. His hold. It all diminished her anger. Attraction was making her pliable. Infatuation was making her weak. She couldn’t allow his appeal to take over her head. Not when it had already consumed her heart and parts further south.

  “It’s love, not stupidity.” He ground his hips into her, as if he knew the route to acquiescence was through her vagina.

  “From my limited experience,” she snarled, “they seem to be the same thing.”

  “Are you going to let me finish, or do you insist on growling at everything I say?”

  Honestly? She wasn’t sure. She wanted to know the damage. Knowledge was power and all that. But knowing also meant pain. It meant harsh reality and punishing truths.

  “Go on,” she whispered, slumping against the wall. “I won’t interrupt you again.”

  He quirked a brow. “I find that hard to believe.”

  She kept her mouth shut, belying him.

  His responding chuckle was short and breathy, flittering away as quick as it settled. “Plan B involved Scott.”

  Fear of the unknown morphed into terror and she shook her head to fight it away. “No.”

  “You promised.” He settled further against her, his fingers raking down her arms, stopping at her wrists. He gripped her gently and raised her hands to the wall, demanding surrender in a tender and Ryan-esque way.

  “As I said,” he murmured, his lips brushing her cheek, “Plan B had a different strategy. With most of your boss’s clients with Grander, it gives Scott a lot of power. And we asked him to do us a favor.” His mouth painted a distracting trail as he spoke, from her cheek to her neck, up to her ear. Each new breath tempting her to fall victim.

  “Don’t stop.” She wasn’t sure what she was referring to, the affection or the admission. Either way, she needed more.

  “We asked him
to play hardball and tell your boss all the upcoming releases from his Grander client list would be placed on hold if he didn’t comply.”

  “What?” She yanked her wrists from his grip. “Are you serious?”

  “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

  No. Unfortunately, he appeared entirely sincere. Each stroke of her gaze back and forth between his eyes didn’t clear the idiocy.

  “So it wasn’t just my life you decided to mess with? It was innumerable artists who are meant to be your allies.” She scoffed. “No wonder Mason suggested this avenue. It reeks of his taint.”

  “We were willing to do whatever necessary.”

  “Then undo it.”

  “Can’t.” His fingers stroked her cheek, his gaze lazily raking her face. “It’s already done. I was in Scott’s home office when the early-morning call was made.”

  “And why would he make that call, Ryan?” She implored him with her eyes, hoping for a different answer to delete the horrific one already running through her mind. “What did you give him in return?”

  He didn’t react, didn’t give her any inclination of remorse.

  “Let me guess, you offered him something he couldn’t refuse.”

  “We did what needed to be done.” He gripped her chin with his thumb and spoke against her lips. “And we would’ve done more if necessary.”

  She wanted to hate every word coming out of his mouth. She wanted to detest them with the same ferocity as her frown. But how could she? How could she despise her men making a deal with the devil in an attempt to save her?

  She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall. “After all we’ve been through with this tour, you still signed another contract.” She couldn’t believe it. They’d worked too hard to escape Grander’s clutches to give up right before the finishing line. “How many albums?”

  “One.”

  She opened her eyes, still not seeing the remorse that must be hidden somewhere.

  “A greatest hits collection,” he continued. “We only need to provide three new tracks.”

  “And you agreed?” Her eyes began to burn. “Even though it means going back to Grander and extending the hold they have on Reckless? Those songs will be wasted.”

  “We see it as a good investment.”

  “We?” she murmured.

  He inclined his head. “All the guys, plus Sidney, Alana, Melody, and Gabi. Everyone knew what was at stake.”

  Her vision blurred. “Wait.” She pressed a palm against his chest. “I’m confused. You said I was fired. How does this fix our problems when I’m still legally obligated to comply with a non-compete?”

  “There’s no non-compete. Bruce agreed to a mutual dissolution to the contract. He doesn’t want his company tarnished, and deep down, I think he was content our manipulation gave him a way to do right by you.”

  “I’m a free agent?” She wanted to be happy. The tingling sensation was already igniting behind her ribs, held captive by the reasons her freedom had been achieved. The cost was too high. They’d gone too far.

  “We did good, didn’t we?”

  She leaned forward, brushed her lips against his and then pulled back. “It’s another album. Those three songs could’ve gone toward establishing your own label. I would’ve fled the tour earlier if I knew that’s what you were going to do.”

  “I know.” He nodded. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.” His smile returned, the glimmer of happiness touching every dark part inside her chest. “We know you’ve given up a lot because of your dedication to the band. You put your social and family life on hold for us. You made Reckless your world, and we love you for that. It’s only fair we return the favor.”

  She would’ve forsaken more if there was anything left to give. Existence didn’t seem worthwhile without those five men. One in particular.

  “Forgive me?” He leaned his head against hers, his presence everywhere.

  “You’re crazy, do you know that?” Insane. Unhinged. Reckless. But she loved him. She loved every single thing about him.

  “Yes. But do you forgive me?”

  She gave a defeated laugh. “Give me more than five seconds.”

  He smirked, the kick of his lips enough to initiate a rapid pulse in her clit. He trailed his forehead along hers, then his beard was scraping her cheek, his mouth finding the heavenly spot below her ear. “What can I do to speed up the process?”

  “You got me fired.” She placed her hands on his shoulders, needing to be grounded. “Redemption will take time.”

  “I bet I can make you forgive me in less than fifteen minutes.”

  She chuckled. “And how do you plan on doing that?”

  He gripped the hem of her blouse and tugged. “Take this off and I’ll show you.”

  “I’m not getting naked, Ryan.”

  “Are you sure?” His fingers moved to the center of her blouse, the deft digits flicking undone one button. Two.

  “Forgive me yet?”

  She shook her head. “No.” She stared him down, her scrutiny almost a glare as he continued popping buttons until the front of her blouse gaped.

  “That’s a shame.” He pushed the material from her shoulders.

  Her nipples tightened beneath her bra as his attention lowered to her body. He admired her with fascination. With undiluted desire. Everywhere his gaze led, she could feel it—her cleavage, her shoulders, her throat.

  Strong arms wove around her, unhooking her bra. He picked at the thin straps, encouraging them down her arms, to fall to the floor. “How about now?”

  “Nope.” She bit her lip over the frantic flutter of her heart.

  He narrowed his stare and lowered the zipper to her pants, slow, gentle. Then in a rush, he shocked her by shoving them down her thighs, along with her panties.

  “How about now?” he growled.

  If she wasn’t becoming mind-numbingly aroused, she would’ve chuckled at his growing intensity. Instead, she raised her brows in a taunt and shook her head. He stepped back, giving her a slow appraisal, the heat in his eyes making her burn. He pulled off his shirt, ruffling his long hair. Then his belt buckle was clanging, his jeans being thrust to the floor, exposing the length of his erection. An always-impressive length.

  “I’m still unforgiven?”

  She didn’t answer. Didn’t respond. Not apart from the frantic breaths between them.

  He lunged for her, thrusting his body against hers, shoving her back against the wall, the result a resounding thud through the room. He grasped her wrists, raised them, holding them on either side of her head.

  His hips ground into hers, his cock teasing the piercing in her clit. She whimpered, the sound derived from pure torture. She wanted him. All of him. He continued to lazily thrust, hard cock sliding over wet pussy. Not penetrating, only teasing.

  “Forgive me.”

  “No.”

  He leaned to the side, his palm trailing over her waist, to her ass and lower to her thigh. He encouraged her to lift her leg and she wrapped it around him, her hands still on his shoulders. Fingers tickled her ass and then found her heat. Delicately, he parted her folds, sliding back and forth, each stroke finalized with a tap to the jewelry in her clit.

  She closed her eyes, her core jolting, her lungs burning. His breath brushed her cheek, then his beard, the rough scrape a precursor to the gentle brush of his lips over her carotid. She ran a hand between them, reaching for his cock, but he tilted his hips.

  “Not until you forgive me.”

  His fingers moved faster, the slide, slide, slide, deepening. Penetrating. Finally, she had something to clamp down on and the sensation of fulfillment made her moan.

  “Forgive me, Leah,” he whispered, almost making her acquiesce with his sweet tone.

  “No.”

  His free hand slammed against the wall, hitting hard. She’d thought it was a game. A prelude to make up sex. But he was serious. He didn’t realize he wasn’t to blame.

  �
�Ryan—”

  His fingers plunged deep, weakening her knees. She rested into him, needing his strength.

  “Want me to continue?” he growled.

  She nodded, her head bobbing in time with the clenching of her pussy. “Yes.”

  “So you forgive me?”

  “God damn you,” she yelled. “Yes.”

  He inched back, taking his dreamy cock with him. She mewled. Then he was shoving between her thighs, lifting her knees and driving his cock home, his shaft sliding deep into her core.

  She cried out, her fingertips digging into him.

  He thrust hard, over and over, his chest lashing her nipples, his mouth finding her own. He held her leg in place, inching it higher, allowing him to sink deeper. He murmured to her as he gyrated, words of love, strength and commitment—I couldn’t bear to lose you. You’re all I have. All I want. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy.

  She closed her eyes, enjoying how his harsh thrusts turned into languid, torturous strokes. “I’m happy, Ryan.”

  Each movement of his hips came with a masculine groan, the strong shove into lust now mixing with hope and optimism. She could finally enjoy him. Without reservation or restriction.

  “You’re such a wonderful man,” she whispered. “Some parts more than others.”

  She met the next gyration of his hips with one of her own, the pleasure exploding with the slam against her clit.

  “I’m glad you think so.” He buried his face in her neck and sucked hard on her flesh. “Because you’ve got me for the rest of your life.”

  “I hope so.”

  She continued meeting his pace, increasing the friction one thrust at a time. His breathing grew heavier, his throaty growl becoming deeper as her pussy contracted tighter. He lifted her, encouraging both legs around his waist as he pistoned, each undulation hammering her ass against the wall.

  “I love you.”

  She moaned at his admission and clung to his shoulders. Everything was heightened—her pleasure, her love, her optimism. Her abdomen began to tingle, the peppered sensation turning into a heavy throb of her core.

  “Ryan…” She wanted to repeat his sentiment, but she was too late, her words cut short by her unpredictable orgasm. “Fuck.”

  He growled, guttural and deep, his climax colliding with hers. His mouth found hers, his lips stealing breath and kisses at the same time. She drowned in the affection, burned from his passion.

 

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