by Regina Frame
Glancing over my shoulder, I found Chance and Mary Jane with their heads together, looking at something on his phone. When she placed her hand on his arm and left it there, I almost come unglued. It's not as it appears, I tell myself. Just moments ago, he was kissing my neck and playing my body like the strings of his guitar. A master full of talent and skill.
"You've got some mad guitar skills. How long have you been playing?" Jax leaned in close so he could hear over the noise. His woodsy scent filled my nose, and I almost choked on it. I didn’t like a cologne that was so strong you could practically taste it, and his was like a dense fog. I knew there was no way he could be that perfect.
"Since I was two. My dad got me started," I admitted.
"That's great. My parents don't exactly go along with my career choice. Being as they wanted me to be a lawyer like the rest of the family. I just couldn't see myself wearing a suit every day, and I hate a damn tie. They choke the shit out of me." He chuckled and continued. "My heart’s in music, though. It always has been. Besides, you don't see a lot of lawyers with long hair and black nail polish," he said, drumming his fingers on the bar top.
"I guess you don't," I agreed with a grin.
"I've played guitar for Chasing Wednesday for four years now. You'd think they would've given up by now, but that's not the case." He shrugged. "I hear it every damn time I see them."
"I don't know." Raking my gaze over his broad chest and unusually big biceps. "I think a lawyer with your looks would be a hit in divorce court." I admitted, and when he threw his head back with a hearty laugh, I couldn’t help but laugh, too. Jax seemed like a nice enough guy, despite his overpowering cologne.
I heard him say something, but I couldn't for the life of me tell you what it was, because I was too wrapped up in Chance and Mary Jane. When Jax said my name, his voice broke through, bringing me out of my own head.
"I'm sorry." I shook my head, feeling horrible that I'd spaced out on him.
"I asked if you would like to dance."
What harm could it be? Chance was still wrapped up in Mary Jane, and I could really use the distraction. So, rather than sit there and drink myself stupid, I let him lead me onto the dance floor through hoards of sweaty gyrating bodies. What could be the harm in an innocent dance?
His hands immediately went to my hips, pulling me flush against his firm body. When his lips moved to my neck and his hard dick pressed against my ass, I knew I needed to put some distance between us. I'd done nothing to lead the guy on, and under any other circumstances I would be willing to play along, but not today. It just felt wrong.
"Excuse me. I have to go to the restroom."
Breaking from his grip, I didn’t wait for his response. Rushing down the long hallway, I found the women's room and stepped inside. Thankfully, there was no one else in there. Exhaling a heavy breath, I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.
I was startled a few seconds later when the door swung open and Jax stepped inside.
"What are you doing in here?" I asked, a little uneasy that he followed me into the women's bathroom.
"I was worried about you. You kind of bolted on me."
Damn straight. I met you ten minutes ago and you think that gives you the right to get all up on me?
"I was coming back. I told you that I needed to use the restroom,” I lied. After washing my hands and tossing the paper towel in the trash, I turned back to face him. "I think I'm just going to head back to the hotel," I replied as I tried to step around him, but he stepped in my path.
"Aww. Come on. The night’s still young, and so are we." He winked and took a step forward, leaving me nowhere to go. My back was pressed against the wall, but now he was pressing down on me. His chest pressing against mine, and the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. My heart was pounding in my ears, and my brain was firing off, warning signals all over the place. My hands immediately went to his chest, giving him a little push, but he didn’t budge. The guy was twice my size. Instead, he wrapped his big hands around my wrists. "Damn. You smell good enough to eat."
His voice had taken on a different tone. A tone that put me on edge. Sweat broke out on my upper lip. I couldn’t believe that I thought the guy was hot.
"You need to back up." I tried to wrench my wrists free, but all it did was hurt my wrists. He was a freakin mountain of a man, and I couldn’t break from his hold on me.
"Oh, come on, sweet cheeks. Give me a little taste."
When he pressed in, I turned away, causing him to kiss my cheek. Okay. Now I was scared. Why hadn't anyone come in? Didn’t women have to pee every five minutes when we were drinking, or is it just me?
"Back the fuck up!" I demanded once more, balling my hands into fists, finally able to break free. The jerk just laughed.
The door flew open and bounced off the wall behind it. Tears of relief poured from my eyes and streamed down my cheeks when Chance stepped inside. He took one look at me, and then Jax. In the blink of an eye, Jax was thrown to the floor and Chance was standing over him, chest heaving, teeth snarling.
"What the fuck, man?!" Chance roared. The vein in his neck jumped beneath the colorful ink there as the muscles in his arms rippled with each flex of his fist.
"Mother fucker! I think you broke my damn nose," Jax bellowed in pain from where he lied on the dirty bathroom floor.
"You're lucky it's your nose and not your nuts," Chance barked.
"Are you okay?" He wiped away my tears with the pad of his calloused thumb, worry behind his dark stormy eyes. When I nodded, confirming that I was okay, he turned his attention back to Jax, where he lay bleeding on the floor. "You need to get the fuck out, and if I ever see you so much as look at my girl, I'll beat your sorry ass," he thundered, never taking his eyes off him as he pulled his cell from his pocket and sent a quick text.
It was only seconds later the door opened and in walked two security guards and a police officer. It wasn't until he was handcuffed and escorted to the police cruiser that I was able to relax a little. I shuddered to think what could have happened if Chance hadn't walked in when he did.
"How did you know where I was?" I whispered, my face pressed against his firm chest.
"My eyes are always on you. Haven't you learned that about me yet?" he responded, kissing the top of my head. I straightened, causing his arms to fall from my waist.
"I'm going to head back to the hotel. I'm sure you'd probably be getting lucky about now if it weren't for me."
It killed me to say that, but they looked a little too cozy for the friend zone. I had a feeling their relationship was more than met the eye.
"What are you talking about?" His brows dipped with confusion.
"You and Mary Jane." He barked out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "What's so funny about that?"
"Sparkles, that would take a miracle." He laughed again before continuing. "Mary Jane is a lesbian. I'm the farthest thing from what she wants. Besides, she's like the sister I never had."
"But, you've got her name tattooed on your side."
"I do," he replied. "Mary Jane and I were in foster care together. I met her at the first home I was ever placed in. There were a bunch of kids there, and I honestly don't know how that couple was allowed to have so many kids because it was obvious they did it for the money." He paused when someone knocked on the bathroom door. "Occupied," he yelled before reaching over and flipping the lock, keeping whoever was on the other side of the door from entering.
"You don't have to explain, Chance. It's none of my business," I replied, shaking my head.
Cupping my face with tattooed hands, he continued.
"They only fed us twice a day, and most of the time, it didn't amount to much. I don't know if you know this or not, but boys eat a lot. During those growing years, we're like a bottomless pit. I would go to bed a lot of nights with my stomach rumbling so loud that Mary Jane could hear it. She started hiding food, and after everyone had gone to bed, she'd sneak back down stairs and get
it. If it weren't for her, I probably would've starved to death."
"Oh-my-god, Chance!" I cried, my hand covering my mouth.
"Once they figured it out, they withheld food for several days. I remember one of my teachers noticed that I wasn't eating, and when she asked me about it, I told her I wasn't hungry, but she knew. It's a part of their training to recognize the signs of neglect, so she took money from her own pocket and fed me every day for a solid week."
Visions of Chance as a little boy filled my thoughts. I pictured him alone and frightened, clutching his stomach from hunger pangs, and it hurt my heart.
"This is why you work with Heartstrings," I stated.
"It's part of it." He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. "Let's go back to the room so that we can finish what we started on the dance floor."
I liked that idea. A lot.
***
Three hours later, we lied in bed, sweaty and exhausted from the multiple orgasms we'd given each other. My head was on his chest, and the sound of his heartbeat in my ear was a like a soothing lullaby to me. I was almost certain he was asleep, because it seemed like hours since either one of us had said anything.
"Why do you think your ex sent you flowers? I'm mean, the dude’s gotta know there's a warrant out for him. He's got some big damn balls if he thinks for one minute they can't be traced back to him."
"That's just it. Trevor likes to play mind games. And you're right about being able to trace those to find his location, but he's too smart for that. He knows I hate roses. That they remind me of death. There's no doubt in my mind that he did that to screw with me."
"What do you mean, they remind you of death?" he asked.
"Everyone sent roses to my parents’ funeral. Everywhere I looked, it was damn roses in every color, and to this day, every time I smell that scent, it makes me want to throw up," I explained.
"Well, you never have to worry about me sending you roses then."
"Thank you. I never pictured you as the roses type of guy, anyway," I responded with my chin resting on his chest so that I could see his handsome face that was now covered in dark stubble, making him even sexier.
"Want to know what kind of man I am?" His lips curled on one side in a crooked grin.
"If you're not a flowers type of guy, then what type of guy are you?"
I was pretty sure I knew where he was going with this, and when he rolled me to my back and hovered over me, my thoughts were confirmed.
"Mmm. So much better than flowers," I moaned as he buried his face between my legs.
This is so much better than flowers.
Chapter Fourteen
Honor
"You want the window seat?"
I looked up to find Chance standing in the aisle beside two empty seats. I hadn't even realized that I had stopped moving, but I was frozen with fear. I swallowed around the huge lump that had formed in my throat, and was suddenly thankful that the guys had chartered the plane so there was only band and crew members on board. I should have taken my medication before we left for the airport, but I was really hoping to make it without it because it always made me sleepy and hung over for hours afterward.
"No. You can take it. I'm fine with this one." I pointed to the aisle seat.
Chance watched me intently for a moment before he lowered himself into the oversized gray leather seat. I slid onto the seat beside him and fastened my seatbelt, just wanting to get this over with.
"Hey. You okay?" He leaned in and spoke close to my ear.
I could smell the mint of the gum he just popped into his mouth because he said it would keep his ears from popping due to the pressure change in the cabin. I, on the other hand, wasn't worried about my ears popping. I was worried about freaking the fuck out once the plane left the ground. The sound of the engines coming to life had me gripping the padded armrest.
"Yeah. No." I shook my head. Why lie about it? At least if I had a panic attack, he'd have some warning that it was coming.
"Well, which is it, Sparkles?"
"I'm just nervous. That's all. I hate flying," I admitted.
"I thought you had medication to help with that," he stated.
"I do."
"Well? Have you taken it?" I shook my head in response. "You have to actually take it in order for it to help, Sparkles. Unless you want me to fuck you in the bathroom," he teased with a crooked grin.
"You're such a romantic." I rolled my eyes.
"Yeah, but that's why you love me so much."
The moment the words left his mouth, the easy going smile left his face and was replaced by something that looked a lot like insecurity. I wanted to admit it, to tell him that I loved him, but sitting on a plane trying to ward off a panic attack didn't seem like the right time, so, instead, I grabbed his hand and pulled it into my lap.
"Just hold my hand and talk to me to take my mind off this tin can."
I grinned up at him, and was relieved when he returned it. A few moments later, a flight attendant made her way up the aisle and Chance asked for a bottle of water.
"Just in case you decide to take your medicine," he explained, tucking the bottle into the pocket attached to the back of the seat in front of us.
My heart fluttered in my chest. He was always so thoughtful and caring when it came to me. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, I lay my head on his shoulder and exhaled a small sigh.
He pressed his lips to the top of my head and said, "Just so you know, that bathroom offer still stands."
"I'll keep that in mind," I replied before closing my eyes and drifting off.
I woke sometime later when a voice came over the intercom, asking everyone to prepare for landing. My head was resting against something hard and warm. Chance's shoulder. His familiar spicy scent surrounded me, putting me at ease. I lifted my eyes to his, and found him smiling down at me with perfect white teeth, his green eyes dancing with amusement.
"You snore," he announced.
"I do not." I sat up and wiped the corner of my mouth. I apparently drooled when I slept, too. I was sure that was really attractive.
"You do, too, but it's cute. You sounded like a little kitten purring."
I pushed off his shoulder and sat up straight in my seat. I couldn't believe that I actually made a four hour flight without having to take a Xanax. I was pretty sure that Chance was responsible for that.
***
Chance
We stepped off the plane in Denver and were slapped in the face with a gust of cold air. My eyes began to water, and I could see my damn breath. I'd forgotten just how cold it could get in Colorado, and I was suddenly thankful that I'd remembered to pack a coat.
"It's fucking cold, man. I don't like this shit, and I'm pretty sure my dick just crawled into my nut sac to keep warm," Levi reported, while adjusting himself in his jeans.
"Dude, next year, we need to only play the warm states. This shit’s brutal," I remarked, cupping my hands and blowing in them in an attempt to warm them up.
Honor called us a bunch of wusses as she broke into a run for the limo that was waiting for us. That was the only bad thing about flying on a private plane. We had to load and unload on the tarmac. We didn’t have the luxury of walking through a heated tunnel to get inside the terminal. We all climbed into the back of the limo and waited for a couple of airline employees to load our luggage into the trunk. The trunk lid slammed and someone tapped on the trunk a couple of times to let us know that we were set to go.
Thirty minutes later, the car rolled to a stop in front of a very ritzy hotel. Word had already spread that we were staying there, because security was already in place, blocking fans from getting too close. We did what we'd been taught to do. Smile, wave, and keep walking.
Once we were checked in to the hotel, Honor crawled into bed to catch a few hours sleep before the show tonight. As much as I'd like to have joined her for other reasons, I had been scheduled for an interview at a local radio station in down town Denver. Jinx had already
arranged my transportation, so all I had to do was call the front desk to let them know I was ready to leave. The guy that knocked on the door a few minutes later looked like he could be a fucking linebacker for the NFL. This guy was fucking huge! I followed him to what appeared to be a service elevator. Only it wasn't. It was disguised that way to help protect their celebrity clients.
"Really, man?" I asked, cocking my head toward the red Lamborghini parked just outside the door. He just shrugged a big shoulder and grinned. "This is not noticeable at all." I laughed as I folded myself into the passenger seat. My damn knees were practically against the dash.
***
After an hour of answering the DJ's questions and those of fan call ins, I was ready to get back to the room to spend a little time inside Honor before the concert tonight. It had been several hours since I'd had her, and that was too long. I was craving her like a drug. I guess, in a sense, she was my drug.
I had just walked out of Rock City radio station where I discussed our upcoming tour and the new single that'd just released. Since it was a live show, the paparazzi didn't waste any time camping out in the parking lot, waiting for me to walk out. They were like a bunch of damn vultures. The security guy that I'd learned on the ride here is named Gil. He walked in front of me shielding me from as many groping and grabbing hands as he could, but to be honest, we needed at least five more just like him.
"Chance, over here," someone said from the crowd.
"Chance, just one question."
They crowded in on me, making me feel claustrophobic. Gil would push one person back only to have three more take their place.
"Hey, guys. Thanks for coming out, but I'm running late. Maybe next time," I offered, pushing our way through the crowd.
"Some say you're a coked out, washed up guitarist who’s on borrowed time," one guy yelled over the rest.
I froze on the spot. My spine stiffened and anger burned its way through my veins like molten lava. I balled my hands into fist at my side and took a few deep breaths, trying to get a hold on my anger. One bad move on my part and it'd be plastered all over the news.
