Sex, Decisions & Rock n' Roll (Redemption Tour #2)

by Michelle Lee

  I’m lost in all things French when the ringing of my phone draws my attention. My heart leaps in my chest, and nervous excitement courses through my veins. It’s Dash. It has to be Dash—the time difference makes sense. I memorized his itinerary, and the band is in Amsterdam. That’s nine hours, so it’s just after twelve a.m. there. He would just be walking offstage and heading back to the lounge before heading back to the hotel. I flop to the other side of my bed and grab my phone, hitting accept. “Hello.” Silence. Maybe he didn’t hear me, or it’s a bad connection.

  “Hello.”

  “Dash?”

  “Not Dash. Hello, Julia.”

  My heart stops and plummets to my feet. The phone starts to vibrate in my hand. It’s then I realize that it’s not vibrating with an incoming text or another call, but because I’m shaking from head to toe. Taking a deep breath, I muster all my courage to not fall apart and find the strength to deal with him. “Hello, Blake.”

  “She speaks.”

  “How did you…”

  “Get your number? I have my methods. You shouldn’t ever question my abilities or the lengths I will go through where you’re concerned.”

  “Blake, don’t…”

  “Don’t what? Speak the truth? Actually I shouldn’t have to now, should I? You know me, don’t you, Julia.”

  “It’s Jules. My name is Jules. And unfortunately I do know you.” Nervousness is turning into anger the more I talk and hear him.

  “Oh, now that’s being a tad bit rude, don’t you think? And you will always be my Julia. Jules doesn’t suit you. Jules is reserved for a woman who is worthy of a name that is a homophone for jewels. And as lovely as you are, Julia, you are no jewel. Not a diamond, sapphire, or emerald.”

  “Why are you calling, Blake?”

  “That tone doesn’t suit you, Julia.” His voice darkens, sending shivers throughout my body. I hear him take a deep breath, and I imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, his eyes closed, head bowed as he attempts to reign in his anger. I know it’s bubbling just below the surface. It’s always there. Always. I’m just glad we are on the phone and not face to face. Another deep breath. And then another. “I apologize for my silence. Now, where were we? Oh yes, why am I calling… I heard you aren’t the rock star’s girlfriend, that you’re just friends. I told you he would break your heart. Now, I will allow you time to grieve and get over this stupid infatuation you had, before allowing you to come back to me. I don’t want used goods. You need to be clean, and cleanse and purge yourself of all things Dash Ford. Understand?”

  My mind is trying to comprehend and wrap around the words he’s just spoken. I couldn’t have heard him correctly. I know I couldn’t have. As if reading my thoughts, Blake interrupts, “You heard me correctly, Julia. There’s no reason to think otherwise. Now, I am sorry you are going through this troubling time, but know that there is a bright side, my love. It may not seem like there’s one, but there’s always one. I’ve been living on the bright side ever since that night. You know what night I’m talking about, don’t you, Julia?” His voice darkens again.

  I know exactly what night he’s talking about—the last night he saw me. The night he broke into Val’s apartment and attacked me before he ran and became a ghost.

  “Julia? Don’t keep me waiting for a response. You know how much that bothers me. I would hate for something to happen to a certain singer…” He lets the words linger in the air before sending them hurtling into my heart. Dash. I need to protect Dash. And now I know. I know that no matter what, I can never tell him about Blake. Never. Even if Russell tries to force me to, I just can’t. I would die a thousand deaths if something were to happen to Dash, thanks to Blake and because of me. I can’t risk his life. I just can’t. Blake is unpredictable at times, but one thing is for certain: he always… always follows through with a threat no matter how small or insignificant that threat may seem.

  “I remember.”

  “Good. Don’t forget. Ever. Now, it was lovely to catch up. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other sometime in the near future. Oh, and Julia, remember… always remember.”

  Before I can say anything he hangs up. I won’t forget. I can’t do anything but remember. Remember how he hurt me, how he broke me, how me made me less than who I really am. Was. Who I really was. I’m different now, aren’t I? One thing’s for sure… I won’t ever forget… I can’t tell Dash about Blake. Not now. Not ever.

  DAY TURNS INTO night over and over again. Two weeks. I was doing better, feeling like my normal self, and then nothing. No Dash. Not a phone call. Not a Skype session. Just a text—I love you. I cling to that text. I read it when I wake up. I read it when I go to bed. I read it in between probably a hundred times or more. But other than that one text, there’s been nothing. Nothing. Val has called and reassured me that he’s still alive, that he is frustrated and upset with himself and Roland for not being able to get in touch with me. He’s tried, but every time, something comes up and he can’t. He’s put his foot down, but Roland brings up contractual obligations, blah, blah, blah. He’s actually come close to punching Roland out, but Vic has always stopped him right before he can let his fist fly and connect to that pompous ass’s face. It gives me some understanding, some solace. But it’s not enough. I miss him so damn much.

  I attempt to sleep, and when I finally fall asleep, it’s time to wake up. I take a shower, dress, and then attempt to eat something. I go to work. Hank tells me he’s worried and if I need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I go to my office to attempt to get work, and when I do I get lost in it, which is welcomed. I often forget to eat lunch, but then Hank will notice, giving me a lecture before presenting me with a bag of something that smells delicious and probably tastes just as delicious, yet I just pick and take a few bites. I need to get out of this depressive funk. I just wish I knew how. Tracy’s attempted to help, but I think she’s even given up. I’m hopeless. It’s hopeless. There’s only one thing that can make this go away. There is only one thing that can make my heart soar, lifting my spirits. And that one thing can’t.

  I’ve continued to see Dr. Hoffman and added this to my list of problems. She’s probably sick of seeing me and wondering why in the world she took me on. One good thing is that I haven’t heard from Blake again. Thank God. I think if I did, it would just push me over the edge. I’m barely holding on as it is.

  Russell has called, but I’ve ignored his phone calls. I honestly don’t know what to say to him. There really isn’t anything to say. I can’t tell Dash about Blake, no matter how much Russell thinks I should. He wouldn’t understand if I told him. Or if he did, he would just add more security to watch me. I’ve seen them a few times when I’ve ventured out. There are two of them, and they take shifts. They usually go unseen. Since I’ve been back home, I’ve only seen them a few times, and that was by accident. I do find comfort in knowing they are there. It gives me some piece of mind knowing that if something would happen, if Blake were to approach me, he wouldn’t get the chance to get too close. The security detail would be on him like port wine reduction on a perfectly cooked lamb chop.

  Anyway, Val should be back in town this weekend. She’s no longer needed on tour with the guys. I can’t wait to see her. Don’t get me wrong; Tracy is great, but Val… Val’s my oldest, dearest, and closest friend. She’s been there for me through everything. I could really use her now.

  THE SKY IS turning a beautiful shade of purple and dark blue, the moon starting its ascent. I’m curled up under the blankets in my bed, watching the latest episode of Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations. The man travels everywhere and finds the most amazing foods. If I weren’t working for the magazine, I would want his job. Gallivanting around the world to strange new places and tasting weird, yet interesting, exotic foods—a dream come true. If only. Anthony is going on about how he would have never found this eating establishment, because it really isn’t a restaurant, if he hadn’t walked off the beaten path, so t
o speak. If he had never ventured into the unknown, he wouldn’t be experiencing the most amazing food ever to come across his palate. His words get me thinking.

  I glance at the clock—eleven fifty-three. It will be tomorrow shortly, and my routine will start once again. But I refuse to be a slave to the emotional turmoil anymore. I need to walk off the beaten path and find the unknown. I’ve survived much worse than not hearing from Dash. I survived much worse, and I am still here. Getting involved with Dash was the unknown. I dove head and heart first into something off of the beaten path when I met and started falling for him. Tomorrow will be a different day, no matter what. No matter what it decides to throw my way, tomorrow will be different. I will be different. Anything different is welcomed. I need to break out of this funk once and for all, before I lose myself completely. I’ve become too dependent on Dash. I’ve become too dependent on him to chase away the darkness. I need to be my own light and chase the darkness away. I need to do anything other than what I have been. But for now, for tonight, I will give in to the darkness one last time before I find my own light. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

  I feel warmth and strength surround me, holding me. A thumping on my back syncs with the rhythm of my own heart. This feeling of contentment and relief flows over and through me, settling into the deep crevices of my mind, body, heart, and soul. For the first time in weeks I feel at peace, and it is so familiar. It feels like Dash. My fuzzy, sleep-deprived mind starts to rouse from its slumber. It feels real. The warmth, the strength, the thumping. Too real. As my mind bursts through the haze of sleep, my senses register that I am not alone. Panic doesn’t start to settle in, but hope and need. I feel weighted down, grounded, tethered to something, someone… him.

  “Dash?” My voice fills the silence even though it’s barely above a whisper.

  “Jules, baby, it’s okay, I’m home. I’m really home.”

  I must be dreaming. I have to be. It’s the only explanation for him being here. “You’re not dreaming, Sunshine, I’m really here. I’m really here.” His arms, that I now notice are wrapped around me, pull me against his chest; the thumping grows. I turn to face him, but I keep my eyes closed. I’m afraid if I open them, I will find emptiness and disappointment. His breath fans my face. I’ve had dreams feel this real. His fingers stroke my cheek. I’ve felt his touch in my dreams before. His lips brush mine. I’ve kissed his lips a thousand times in my mind. He rests his forehead against mine, like he’s done countless times. “I’m really here, baby. Open your eyes for me.”

  Gradually I open one eye and then the other. I’m met with a sight that I only dreamed I would see so soon. His blue eyes shine, my favorite smile is just for me. He’s really here. “You’re here, you’re really here. I thought you…” I start while I lean closer, my lips sweeping across his face, making sure he’s real. Making sure that if by some cruel twist of fate he isn’t real, he becomes real for just this moment, for just enough time for my lips to feel him.

  “I’m really here. I couldn’t wait any longer. Roland finally saw things my way, and I got the first flight out I could.” His words end in a chuckle.

  “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “Believe it.” His words make my heart soar to the heavens.

  Dash gathers me in his arms, his lips hovering above mine for a split second before descending on mine. Our lips move in time, expressing all that we can’t with words. He doesn’t rush it nor do I, even though I’m desperate for him. His lips linger before finding their way along my jaw and down my neck—nipping and sucking along the way. “Dash, please,” I plead as his fingers trace the outline of my lace panties, his lips never leaving my skin.

  His fingers dip beneath the thin barrier, and his hand cups my sex. Burning with need and want, my body lifts off the bed, pushing into his hand. Dash stills. His breath pants against my hot skin. Panic starts to stir, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve done something or if this truly is a dream that is suddenly turning into a nightmare. “Dash, is everything okay?”

  He nods, but doesn’t move.

  “Dash?” My voice is barely audible.

  I stare at him. His eyes are closed tight, his breathing that was once labored is now a steady rhythm. I don’t push. I don’t question. I simply wait. He’s in my arms and I’m in his, and that’s all that matters. He’s here. He’s with me. That’s all that matters. Time seems to still for once, and I am beyond grateful. I feel his heart skip a beat. Mine follows. His eyes open, shining with unshed tears. “Everything’s perfect, beautiful.”

  “Perfect,” I echo. At this moment, everything truly is perfect. What has come before doesn’t matter. What will come later doesn’t matter. All that matters is now, and now is perfect. Perfect.

  He tilts his head, his eyes downcast. Dash appears to be shy and embarrassed at the moment as his coloring takes on a pinkish hue. “I, uh, just needed a moment.” He reaches down, giving me a quick kiss. My smile widens as I kiss the tip of his nose. He’s so darn cute when he’s embarrassed.

  “Dash, I love you.” A single tear escapes, trailing down my cheek.

  He kisses me so tenderly I feel my heart skip several beats. “I love you.”

  As we stare at each other, my heart rips completely open and everything I feel for Dash Ford pours out of me. I have never felt so much for anyone in my entire life. I direct my emotional deluge and funnel it directly into Dash through our kiss. At this very second, we have all the time in the world, and nothing else matters but him, but me, but us.

  Suddenly, I feel it—all the love, trust, passion, and every other wonderful emotion you can think of emit from Dash and they soar straight to my heart. I feel whole again. He deepens our kiss, his tongue seeking out mine. Our tongues mold to each other, caress, tease, and massage the other. His tongue is warm and plump and he tastes divine, like the rarest, most exquisite chocolate. A moan erupts from his chest. His hands begin again to roam down my body as I moan and buck beneath him. With great one-handed skill, Dash removes my panties with minimal resistance and assistance. My hands slip down between us, tugging on his boxer briefs. He obliges, removing them, tossing them absentmindedly in the room. I need to feel every inch of him. Skin on skin. I need to know he is still really real. His fingers tug at the hem of my tank. I reward his efforts and slip the barrier over my head, flinging it away.

  I am completely naked to him. Dash stares at my naked body, taking in every millimeter of my skin. “Just beautiful.” My flesh warms under his gaze.

  His lips find their way to my neck as he nips and sucks his way down to my collarbone. Dash’s tongue snakes out and licks across them. I shudder beneath him. The ache inside me intensifies and flares out everywhere, consuming every single inch of my body. My clit throbs with need. I need Dash. I need him now. I wrap my hand around his shaft and position it in front of my slick, warm entrance. “Dash, please, I need to feel you, feel you inside me.”

  I can feel Dash restrain himself, holding himself still even as I attempt to push him inside me. I’ve never been so desperate for someone in my entire life. I feel as though I might die if I don’t feel him inside me soon. Dash shakes his head and then gently pries my fingers away from his dick. “I know, baby, I know. I feel it too. But I need to do this first. I just need…”

  Without another word, Dash buries his nose between my breasts and inhales. His hand slips between us as his agile fingers seek out my clit, while his other hand explores the pebbled skin of my breast. His fingers work in tandem, both creating friction and circular motions. My nipple hardens as he plays it, and my hips twist and buck into his other hand as it plays me there. His mouth hungrily takes in my pert nipple, sucking and biting. I push my chest further into him. Needing more. Wanting more. I feel him smile around my nipple.

  “Dash,” I moan.

  He slips a finger inside me, my walls clamping down on it. He moves his finger inside me, playing me like his guitar. He adds another finger, making me stretch and feel full. He groans
again, as do I. Dash continues to pump his fingers in and out of me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. My walls begin to constrict further around him. He continues to lick, suck, and nip at my breasts, while his fingers pump faster and faster. I moan beneath him as a few expletives escape from my lips. I am so ready. So fucking ready.

  But Dash has other plans because he slowly and torturously works his lips down my torso, kissing and licking along the way. His mouth meets my navel, placing a single kiss on it before his tongue slips into it, tasting me. I can’t help the throaty moan that slips out as I shiver. Dash removes his fingers, but before I can protest and my body revolts, he brings them to his lips. His tongue slips out and laps at the glistening wetness coating them. “Hmmm, you taste delicious.”

  “Oh, God, Dash,” I whimper.

  He slips both fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. Dash’s eyes darken and then are hooded in lust. He pulls them out of his mouth with a loud pop. “So good.” His voice is a low, deep, throaty growl.

  I writhe beneath him and my hips lift up, pushing my stomach to his lips. He rewards me with a kiss then gives another lick before continuing down, leaving kisses in his wake. He leaves a kiss on the top of my pussy, inhaling. Without any hesitation, his tongue licks at my wet folds, and I tremble. His tongue continues to lap at me. His tongue darts into my opening, causing me to grip the sheets, and my back arches as my head pushes deep into the mattress. His tongue sweeps across me again and then connects with my bundle of swollen nerves. He flicks my clit a few times before sucking it into his mouth, his teeth gently biting down around it.

  “Fuck,” I scream, my fists pounding on the bed.

  Dash alternates between sucking and nipping my clit and pushing his tongue deep into my pussy. With each passing moment, he quickens his pace. I feel my muscles tighten, my back arching further, ultimately pushing his tongue deeper into me. “Dash,” I cry as my walls constrict. I shudder and vibrate, riding out my orgasm. The room is filled with my panting breaths. He places one last kiss on my clit, trailing back up my torso before he devours my mouth. I moan as I taste myself. It’s erotic. It’s sexy. It makes me want more, oh so much more. My hands work their way down his back, scratching and clawing along the way. It’s his turn to moan. “Dash, take me,” I command, my voice raspy with want and desperate need. Finally he gives me what I’ve been craving and pushes into me, his dick filling me completely. He slowly pulls out of me, the head of his dick just barely left inside. My legs wrap around his waist and my heels dig into his ass, pushing him back into me. He reads me and slams into me, filling me completely, reaching deep within me. “Yes!” I breathe through gritted teeth. It feels so good… too good.