Scowling, the big man leaned in another intimidating inch, and Benny held himself still, trying not to react. “Without fear, there is no courage,” Mason repeated the words, then paused. “That’s what you hold onto. Mica’s ink. Courage. What you’ll find on the other side of that fear eating you up inside. That’s where you’ll find your courage, little lion boy. Find it, hold on to it…feed it. Two things inside you: fear and courage. Feed what you want to grow.”
He gestured around the room, and a dozen pairs of eyes turned their way. Benny knew Mason spoke for all of them when he said, “You are your brother’s favorite person. Slate was scarcely a man when he took on the role he was born to, his brother’s keeper. He’s lived his whole life in service to others, including me, but you are one of the people who make his world richer. Now, seeing you through his eyes, I know your worth in a way I didn’t before. You aren’t what you’ve done, what’s happened to you. You are what you became in spite of what life threw at you. In spite of stumbling and falling.” Mason grinned, and in his smile, Benny caught a glimpse of the man Chase would become. For the first time, he was glad down to the bottom of his soul that his life had brought him here to witness this. “Like your shadow says, it ain’t how many times you fall, Benny. It’s how many times you get back up.”
***
“Dude.” Chase laughed as he whirled, walking backwards up the sidewalk towards the house his dad had bought. “You don’t know, man, it could happen.” Slapping his hands together, Chase made a sound like an explosion. “Out of the blue, like that. Come on, she’s only here for a couple of days. I want you to meet my aunt.”
“Chill, little dude.” Benny was frustrated, but trying to not let his mood sour Chase’s excitement. He’d gotten off the phone with yet another label earlier today. Their music was going great; actually, better than great. The demo they’d cut was rock solid, four songs, all original, each uniquely different, showing their range of skill. With every practice, they found new ways to fit together professionally.
The only downside was on the management side of things. Benny knew in his gut they needed representation. He could handle setting up and organizing promo pieces, but getting them booked onto a tour took connections, and every one of his had splintered over the last year. People in the industry changed jobs as fast as they changed underwear, and keeping up with who knew who when you spent half a year in rehab? Nearly impossible.
So he’d spent the last month working angles to try to get their music in front of labels that would be willing to leverage names and connections, sweet-talking them into taking a chance on the Occupy Yourself brand. Not that there’s much of a brand left, he thought, watching as Chase continued to walk backwards, chatting with Luce like a magpie bird, endless noise with little substance. Chase was doing well, holding onto his newfound drive fearlessly, so Benny had put off the next call of the day. The boy was important to Benny and needed to know it, so when his aunt came to town, and the runt wanted Benny to meet her, he’d by God make time to meet her. He snorted, By God? Thanks, GeeMa.
His attention sharpened when he knew Chase had somehow gone wrong with his recitation of a story, watching as Luce glanced up at first Chase, then Benny, fear flashing across her face. He stared at her. Luce wore her feelings on the surface all the time. You could look at her and know what she was thinking, and after the time spent together, he knew these nerves weren’t normal. Chase kept moving, so Benny didn’t get a chance to ask what was up before they hit the door and were inside, Chase shouting the house down.
In the massive kitchen, Chase greeted his father and Benny gave a chin lift to Mason, watching the comfortable affection the man offered his friend. Yeah, loves you more than you know, he thought with a grin.
A petite brunette was walking into the room. Benny knew this feminine version of Mason had to be the aunt. Benny was still focused on Lucia but heard Chase laugh when the woman stopped walking to mutter something to Mason. Slipping an arm around Luce’s waist, Benny pulled her close to him, wanting to settle her from whatever the mood was that took her confidence. “My Aunt Bethy,” Chase introduced half of the equation, giving a wave. Bethy whispered something else to Mason, pointing at Benny and he wondered if he’d found a closet fan or a hater. Then she stuck her hand out, taking a step towards Benny.
“Mr. Jones, it’s a real pleasure to meet you. I’m Bethany Taylor-Mason, a talent scout for Iron Indian Records.” Well, nice surprise. He knew a little about Iron Indian; they were solid, mostly into rockabilly music, but they had recently signed a group similar to Occupy Yourself. Hmmm. Benny reached out and shook her hand, starting with a small smile, but allowing it to morph into his flashy, plastic grin when she gave him an impressed eye flare, letting him know he was right. Closet fan and a talent scout. Time to work it a little bit.
“Ms. Taylor-Mason.” He tipped his head to one side, keeping the smile going, “Please call me Benny.” Shoving his elbow into Chase’s side, hard, he ragged Chase a little because he hadn’t been primed to meet a representative. If the kid was going to be in a band, in the business, he needed to know what connections to leverage. “Little dude, you lose points for not telling me your aunt is hot.” Luce gave his waist a squeeze and he grinned; she understood the schmooze routine.
“But I gain points because I remembered this.” Chase dug around in the bag Lucia had on her shoulder. “One demo CD, coming up.” Case in hand, he reached out and handed it to his aunt who first looked like she was about to have a heart attack, but then made a happy face at her nephew. Definite fan.
“I’ll have to determine if I can clear some time on my schedule to give it a listen, Mr. Mason.” Joking with Chase, she ruffled his hair before turning back to Benny, her gaze assessing. “Seriously, if you are looking for a label, I can guarantee you an audition.”
Interesting. Tilting his head, Ben asked her, “How can you guarantee an audition if your label hasn’t listened to the demo.”
“Because I’m pretty sure ‘my label’ has already heard this in rehearsals.” She laughed and stuck her tongue out at Mason. “After all, your rhythm guitarist is living with him.” Benny skated a glance at Mason, then brought his attention back to Bethany.
Mason owns a record label. Hope had his heart thudding in his chest. This could be everything. Our luck is changing, he thought, then his mind skittered, echoes of Ruby on the phone from New Mexico ricocheting past, then a memory of Luce’s hands stroking up his back as he heaved. No. His thought was sharp, like a knife’s edge coming down on a string, severing bad from good. Good change this time.
Twisting, he looked at Chase. All my work and we had a captive audience the whole time. “You knew this.” It wasn’t a question. He could see in Chase’s face he had known, and it was fast dawning on him that not telling Benny was very, very bad. “I’ve been bustin’ my ass for weeks, trying to get our demo in front of the right people. You knew it, knew what I’ve been doing because I’ve bitched about it often enough.” Chase stood there, frozen in place, staring, his face fixed in an indecipherable expression. Blank, looking as if he were entirely ready for a reaction that would wound him deeply. Waiting to be told he was failing at something, and Benny knew that feeling in his bones.
Fuck, make this right. Don’t derail the progress the kid’s made. “Probably a good call on your part, little dude.” Teasing might get them through this, but Chase still looked like he’d been kicked in the teeth. “If she’d gotten an earful of your playing a couple months ago?” He mimicked the explosion sound Chase had made earlier, watched as one corner of the boy’s mouth curled up. “Wouldn’t have been good.” A full smile testified to the success of his efforts. Finally.
***
With arms wrapped around Lucia’s torso, Benny held his controller to one side, trying to avoid her elbows as she became engrossed in the firefight they were working their way through onscreen. Hilarious body English helping her focus as she leaned side-to-side, twisting and grunting as her c
haracter moved. In his headset, he heard Chase say, “Delta sector is clear.”
Lucia responded to him, distraction bringing out her accent and a mix of Spanish and English, “Bueno, Chase, good. Este pinche cabrón’s gonna die here, too. Un momento, por favor.”
Benny grinned, pressed into her and found himself surrounded by the scent of her hair. Danger, he thought, watching her character onscreen forge forwards. It had become harder and harder not to take things to the next level between them. Body jolting, he quietly snorted at his internal harder and harder and she muttered, “Nearly there, bebe. Un momento.”
They were ass to the floor, him leaning against the couch and her leaning into him. He sat with knees cocked, thighs spread, and she nestled between his legs as if she belonged there. Totally focused on what was happening on the screen, she seemed oblivious to his physical reaction to her natural closeness even as he did his best to ignore his hardening cock. Remember this is a bad idea, he thought as his grip tightened around her, feeling the softness of her breasts resting on his arm, the soft curves of her ass right there.
They were alone in his apartment as they’d been a number of times, but tonight he couldn’t seem to put his awareness of her aside. Last night, he’d again listened on the phone as she brought herself to orgasm and he wanted to be there with her, wanted to be touching, tasting…
Not helping, he thought, shoving the memories aside. She wanted more, he knew. Had wanted for a while, asked in her quiet, shy way more than once, but he’d put her off, touting the doc’s words time and again.
The truth was, he was afraid.
It had been a long time for him. Probably the most prolonged dry spell he’d had since he was fourteen. A long time and things were different in his life now. He was sober for one thing. And Lucia, she mattered in a way no other woman ever had. His dreams about her wrapped around themselves in his head, but the overriding emotion was always fear. Fear he’d lose what he had of her, small as that was. Fear he’d fuck it up, and not make it good for her. So much fear, it was paralyzing. Like performing onstage, only a million times a million on the importance scale.
You got past the performance anxiety with the music, he thought. And he had. Taking a chance on the anthem for Jase’s game was the first real step. Followed by a dozen baby moves on the stage at Marie’s. Then the band had branched out, going to radio stations and doing on-air performances, booking into tiny bars and lounges, where the energy of the band felt like it had when he was first starting out with OY. Jazzed and excited, but wary. That was back when he didn’t know how desperate playing places like that really was. Now he knew the truth and enjoyed seeing surprise in the faces of the patrons when the band didn’t suck. Watched as the phones came out, friends were called to come out for a good time, and the place would fill up in a way the bar didn’t anticipate. At least the first time. That felt good, but still held an edge of desperate.
Luce moved, shifting to one side as her character crept around the corner of a building. He pushed the joystick on his controller, running to catch up, getting there just as the sound of a blast filled his headphones, followed by her lilting curses. “Idiota. Sorry, Chase. I am dead.”
Keying the mic on his headset, Benny said, “And I’m tired.”
“Don’t know why,” Chase chimed in. “You didn’t do anything that last round except stand around with your thumb up your ass.”
“Hey, I’m tired,” he protested, seeing Luce’s grin reflected on the surface of the TV screen. “See you at practice in the morning. We’ve got a new song Bear and me been working on. I want to see if we can be ready to cut a demo soon. Book some studio.”
“Okay, old man. You get some beauty sleep. You need—” Chase was cut off in midlaugh when Luce pushed the button on the console. She shifted to look up into Benny’s face, and he knew what was coming. Knew what he should do, even as he knew he was giving in this time. He didn’t have it in him to deny her. To deny himself any longer. I want her so bad.
“I’ll lay down with you for a bit?” Couched as a question, the statement revealed the longing he knew she had inside. Something she wasn’t confident enough to ask for, but the things she did ask about were tough to answer.
Tonight, he wouldn’t put her off, wanted her as close as she could get. Standing, he reached out a hand to pull her to her feet, leading the way to the bedroom. “Love it, baby.” Stripping his shirt over his head, he tossed it towards the closet. He then hesitated a second, hands hovering over the waistband of his jeans. With a half decision, he pulled his belt free from the loops, tossing it to the floor next to the bed. By the time he had crawled up the bed, turning to put his back to the mattress, he had expected she’d be already on her way towards him and the bed, but his gaze found her frozen in place.
“Come here, Lucia.” He lifted one hand to her, pleased he could hold it steady as he waited for her to accept his offer. She broke from her stillness, her eyes holding his captive as she put a knee to the bed, sliding up to nestle into his side. “Love it.” He sighed, curling an arm around her shoulder, feeling how she fit him. Cheek to his shoulder, palm to his chest, she curved into him. He twisted in the bed, shoving his arm underneath her, rolling them to their sides, facing. Holding her close, tangling his legs with hers. “Better.”
He got a wordless hum in response and grinned, waiting. If she followed the usual script, she’d be content for about three minutes, then start pushing and pressing to see if he’d be interested in more. Of course he was interested, but the fear always crept in. In less than that amount of time, he felt her shift and take a breath, but then she stilled, and he felt the heat of her exhale along the skin of his throat. Both palms pressed to his chest, her fingers flexed, then didn’t move again.
He bent his neck, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Comfortable?” Voice deliberately quiet, he waited, getting another hum in reply. “Can I have a goodnight kiss?” Wordlessly, she tipped her head back, lifting her lips to his. She moved as if to break the kiss, but he deepened the connection, angling his head, slanting across her mouth, the tip of his tongue stroking along her lips.
Fingers twisting in her hair, dark silk flowing across his hands and arms, he kissed her, teasing for entrance, nibbling and licking until she relented, opening for him, and he plundered what she offered. Tongue slipping inside, tangling with hers, he took her mouth, not breaking the way they fit together even when he pulled back, panting for breath. “God, Luce.” He groaned, resting his forehead against hers. “You make it hard to be good.”
Fingers moving restlessly across his bare chest, her touch was driving him mad, his mind imagining, wanting it everywhere. When she pressed close, the tip of her tongue flicking across his bottom lip, her words took a moment to register. “Then be bad, Benny. Be bad with me.”
As if she’d lit a fire inside him, he felt his blood heat. His skin, already sensitive from her touch, became more so, and everywhere their skin connected blazed hot and fierce. He moved, rolling her, positioning himself so he was lifted on one arm, the other driving his hand up underneath her shirt, fingers and thumb honing in on her nipple as if guided there. Be bad. Through the lacy texture of her bra, he felt the pebbled surface perched on the peaks of her breasts, palming and plumping them as he caressed her. “God.”
Rocking against her, he ran his mouth down her neck and across her shoulder as far as he could, exasperated when fabric interfered with his ability to retain access to her skin. With frustrated movements, he worked the shirt over her head, tossing it to one side, staring down in awe at what he had uncovered. Be bad with me. Ivory lace covered her brown skin, and he had a sudden, overwhelming desire to see if she had on matching panties. Fingers to the button of her jeans, he jerked it through and loose, then shoved them down, letting her help him remove them. “Beautiful,” he murmured, gaze tracing up and down her frame.
Lace panties framed by the strength of her thighs, dark curls captured underneath. Her ample hips di
pped to her waist, then flared out to her ribs, breasts on display except for the sheer coverage of her bra. His cock thudded behind the fly of his jeans, pulse pounding, rushing, and he was already hard as a rock, wanting to be inside her. “My Lucia.” Nose to her cheek, he nuzzled her. Slow down. “God, baby. My Lucia. So beautiful. Gorgeous woman in my bed.”
Gliding touches up her side, pad of his thumb brushing the curve of her breast, pulling a shiver and a soft moan from her. She curled her hand around his neck, pulling him close and he kissed her, delving into her mouth again, tracing all of her with his tongue. Groaning down her throat when her fingers trailed along the edge of his jeans. Pressing into her, trapping her hand with his hips, the movement across the covered head of his cock excruciatingly beautiful.
Breaking the kiss, pushing his head into her neck, he was focused on the sensation when her hand flattened, pressing against his belly before sliding into his pants, her fingers wrapping around his throbbing dick. “Luce,” he encouraged softly, hips moving with her touch. “Yeah, touch me. God.” His hand went down, curving around her hip and diving between her legs. Voice rough, gruff, rasping when he spoke, “Baby. Want that? Yeah? Want me to have that?” Shoving the gusset of her panties to the side, he found her wet, knew from the mewls falling from her lips she was wanting. Had been wanting for a while, as he made them both wait.
Born Into Trouble (Occupy Yourself Book 1) Page 23
