We’re all alone up here. I could throw her in the bed of my truck and fuck her mindless to the sounds of the cricket choir in the background, but as much as I want that, I just can’t do it. For the first time in my life, I want to take this slow. I want to savor the moments I spend with her; bask in this untamed desire until neither of us can take it anymore, and we’re forced to tear each other apart with primal need. I want her to want me so bad she can’t take it. Because that’s how I feel.
10
Casey
The pulsing vibration against my butt cheek startles me.
AJ: You look really pretty tonight.
My gaze locks on AJ’s from across the room. He’s been texting me off and on throughout the show. Each line is cornier than the one before it, and I’m eating it up with a spoon.
Before I have time to respond, the phone vibrates a second time.
AJ: But you’d look beautiful in my arms.
“It must be incredibly hard to serve drinks when you can’t take your eyes off the sound guy,” Marisa chides.
Cringing, I slip my phone back in my pocket. “Sorry.”
Even before he started texting, thoughts of AJ haven’t left my mind all week. He seems to be all I can think about anymore. It also doesn’t help that he looks downright edible tonight. I want to put him on a plate and sop him up with a biscuit.
When he walked in this evening, the tremor that rolled through my body would have tipped the Richter scale. He’d torn off the sleeves on his Zildjian tee, leaving the tiniest bit of his body on display. Judging by the way that the remaining fabric hugs his chest, I have no doubt he took them off simply because he couldn’t fit them over his thick biceps. I've always been a sucker for a sexy set of arms.
Marisa glances toward AJ and back at me. “Oh, I get it. He’s hot. But you’re drooling into your tank top.” She grins and pops the tops off two Coors Lights.
I look away, but when the phone pulsates again, I can’t help but reach for it.
AJ: Did the sun come out, or is that you smiling at me?
When I catch him watching me with his steely gaze, and I realize I’m grinning like a damn fool. His lines are getting to me, and he knows it. I must be really hard up.
AJ hangs back as Marisa and I finish our side work, but every so often, I see his gaze slide toward the bar. The night wears thin. I grab my stuff and say my goodbyes, but the hollow thumping of heavy boots stops me before I reach the door. “Case, wait up!” He jogs over to where I hover near the exit. “You forgot something.”
“What?”
A devious smile rolls across his face. “Me.”
“Do you just sit home and think of this stuff, or does it come to you on the fly?”
“Little of both.” He falls in line next to me as we walk out into the parking lot. “Last night was fun.”
AJ and I have seen each other almost every night for the last few weeks. Nothing crazy. Usually a movie or a trip to the diner. Yesterday, he picked me after work and took me bowling. His bowling is just as bad as his dancing, but the man has good form. That, of course, is code for he has a cute butt.
“Yeah. Puttin’ up the bumpers really gave you an edge.”
“Well, hardy har har,” he jokes, leading me to his truck. “Here, get in.”
“I have my own car, you realize.” I cross my arms over my chest in a defiant stance. AJ never lets me drive. He has this thing about being the one in control behind the wheel. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to wondering if that need for control filters into other areas of his life. Like the bedroom.
Tonight, I plan to find out.
All week, he's been playing it cool. A sweet kiss, a gentle touch, a flirty grin. Building up the anticipation until I’m ready to crack and then leaving me wanting more. I’m so ready for more.
“Yeah. I’m familiar with your crappy Pontiac.” He opens the passenger door and waits for me to enter. “Let’s take a drive.”
Randy Houser cries out of the speakers as he turns the key, and I smile. Usually, he listens to his iPod, but tonight, it's unplugged. He even set the country station as a preset on his truck’s radio just for me. I’ve caught him tapping along with it when he doesn’t think I’m paying attention. He would never admit it, but I think he’s starting to like it.
“So where are we goin’?”
The crook of his finger beckons me closer. When I slide over, he slips his arm around me to pull me the rest of the way. His stubble scrapes against my throat as his lips find my neck.
“I’ve wanted to do that all night.”
The tiny bit of contact singes my skin. I feel like I’m going to combust if he continues. “I think we should go back to your house.” The sentence tumbles out of my mouth breathless and wanton. Five years is long enough. This ends now.
“Are you sure?”
“Drive, city boy.”
“Yes, ma’am!” A slight Southern twang punctuates the words. Whether it’s rubbed off from talking to me or all the country music I’ve been forcing down his throat, I don’t know, but the sound makes my stomach curdle. I’ve grown used to hearing that phrase from another man.
A true Texas gentleman, Austin was always “yes, ma’am,” “no, ma’am,” and “thank ya, ma’am.” It drove me nuts. I resented how polite he was all the damn time. Try as I might, I could never get a rise out of that man. There was no spark. No fire. He was always unrelentingly levelheaded to a fault.
“Don’t say that.” The lava creeping in my veins hardens into charcoal. I straighten up, untangling from his grasp and slide to my side of the truck.
He looks at me like I’ve lost my damn mind. “I’m sorry? What just happened?”
“Nothin’!”
I’m furious for no apparent reason. Austin’s voice has seeped into my brain ever since we spoke last week. Memories I’ve long since forgotten float in and out of my mind like the ocean tide. The sound of my name on his lips, the way he breathes. Tiny things I loved so much yet forced from my mind the instant I turned the page and closed that chapter of my life. I don’t need to hear it on the tongue of the man I’m planning to sleep with as well. Seven years and it still haunts me, refusing to allow me to move on. Why won’t it just leave me alone? I’ve paid for my sins.
“Cowgirl, you’re gonna have to give me some kind of clue.”
“Enough with the cowgirl crap, too, all right? I ain’t no friggin’ cowgirl.”
“What the fuck? You were normal five seconds ago! How do you go from wanting to fuck me to wanting to fight me in the blink of an eye?”
The incredulous look on AJ’s face only pisses me off further. I’m just mad. Mad at my mom, at Austin, at Davis, at losing Gran…
“Is this why you don’t date? Because you’re bananas?”
My chin falls; a roiling boil sizzles up my cheeks and into my ears. “You know what? You can just kiss my country ass!” Grasping for the handle, I swing the door open and jump out, stumbling on my boots and taking off for my own car. I don’t need this shit. This is why I’m better off alone.
The knocking on my front door is so quiet I wouldn’t have heard it if I wasn’t awake and stewing on the couch. My temper is the reason I’ve never been more popular. I can still hear Gran’s voice telling me to cool my sass when I’d gotten too loud. However, once the bomb blows, I usually crumple along with the aftermath. AJ didn’t deserve my wrath. It’s not his fault.
The blanket draped across my lap falls on the floor as I stand from the couch. The Nash station on my television hums low in the background. Music has always had the ability to take me to another place. The song isn’t important. Each one offers up a new feeling and a different outlook than the one before it. Tonight, though, I’m not finding the comfort I’m looking for.
I peek through the peephole, wondering who the early morning caller is. Usually, when someone knocks on our door at four a.m., it’s either someone looking for Carlos, the guy who lived here before us, or it’s Marisa, too
drunk to get her key in the door. This time, it’s neither.
“What the hell?” I whisper under my breath.
The force of AJ’s lips against mine the minute I open the door knocks me off my feet. His tongue invades my mouth. I scramble backward, knocking his hat off and tearing at his shirt as I pull him toward my bedroom. He mumbles against my mouth, something about our fight, but doesn’t stop kissing me hard until my legs hit the bed and I fall on my backside. I rip at his belt with trembling fingers. The shaking in my hands makes the buckle hard to manage. Or maybe it’s just my haste. Whatever it is, I can’t get the damn thing undone fast enough.
“Slow down, baby. Where's the fire?”
“It's in me.”
Whatever happened between us earlier is a distant memory. A freight train of untamed desire hits me head-on. Now that he’s here, I can’t think of anything other than feeling his body against mine. Moving inside me. Making me new again.
With a groan, AJ tugs my hand from his belt. “Wait. Wait. We should talk.”
His mouth says talk, but the thick, hard ridge in his jeans says action. Still, I settle back on my bed, squeezing my thighs to smother the burning fire between them. “Okay.”
The bed dips as he takes a seat next to me. “I’m sorry about earlier. I understand why you freaked out.”
“You do?”
He nods and takes my hand. “Marisa warned me. You’ve never been with a guy before, and that’s fine, Case. I don’t want to rush you.”
A nervous smile plays along my lips. The silly dates, and the hesitancy—it all makes sense now. AJ wasn’t holding back on purpose. He was respecting my boundaries. What has Marisa been saying? “I’m not a virgin, AJ.”
“You’re not?”
“No.”
“Then why don’t you date?”
The way he looks at me, cocking his head with such wide-eyed interest, makes my insides seize. I don’t want to talk about Austin. I don’t want to think about him. I just want the memories of us to wash away instead of pulling me under their riptide every time I imagine his face, but AJ came here in the wee hours of the morning looking for answers. He deserves to know the truth. At least part of it. “I fall fast, and I love hard, and I end up getting hurt."
Or hurting someone in the process.
He doesn't respond, but his slow nod tells me he understands. At least somewhat. “I was engaged real young, but it didn’t work out. The relationship that followed was a nightmare. I started to wonder if I was cursed. Figured maybe I’m meant to be alone. So, for the past five years, I have been.”
Everything Davis did to me I deserved. Every smack, every nasty word. He hurt me in so many ways, and every single time, I took it without a fight. It was my price to pay for my sin. I swallow past the lump that’s found itself lodged in my throat. “But I’m ready to start over, AJ. If you’ll have me.”
Messy hat hair curls around his fingers as he scratches at his scalp. “I’m really into you, Case.” Resting his hand on my cheek, he leans in closer. His breath tickles my lips as they part, waiting for him to claim them. “And I really want you. But I’m not breaking a five-year dry spell at four in the morning.” Feather soft kisses flutter against my mouth. “I’m going to take my time”—they skim across my jaw—“and taste every”—down my neck—“square”—over my collarbone—“inch of you.”
The throbbing pulse between my legs beats as his mouth glides up my throat. My panties are past damp. He hasn’t even touched me, yet I’m so wet my thighs are sticky. It only takes being near him for my body to respond this way, but his lips on my skin and his masculine scent this close up adds a slick layer of want on top of my already raging case of need.
Taking his hand in mine, I slip it between my thighs. “Do you feel what you do to me?”
His thumb moves in a slow circle over the flimsy piece of soaking cotton making me gasp. “I feel it,” he whispers against my skin, increasing the pressure with his hand; tight little circles that concentrate on the tiny nub beneath the fabric of my underwear.
The rock-solid ridge in his jeans jumps at the touch of my hand, and a groan vibrates against my neck. When his lips find mine, he uses his body to lower me back to the bed. His tongue plunges into my mouth, teasing mine with its delightful twirl. A series of slow, sensual caresses that only serves to reignite my already flaming desire.
Catching the light from the living room, his gray eyes sparkle in the dark. He pushes my hair back, dropping kisses to my forehead, cheeks, and nose before sitting up. "Good night, cowgirl."
I squeeze his forearm as he tries to get up. "Will you stay until I fall asleep?"
Dang, Case. Desperate much?
"Do you want me to?" I nod. It's a loaded statement. I kind of want him to stay forever. "All right. Scooch over."
The lower half of his face is all I can see from the corner of my eye as he settles in, allowing me to cuddle into his shoulder. “You ever think about going back to Texas?”
“Sometimes.” His grip tightens. “I never really felt at home here, you know? Then again, I don’t know if I really fit in down there, either.”
His hand comes up, sweeping the hair off my temple and circles around my ear. The lightness of his rugged touch sends a shiver across my skin. “You fit perfect right here.”
With the room so dark, everything seems magnified. His heartbeat drums a gentle rhythm against my cheek, his breath, so deep and calm, washes over me, comforting me in a way I can’t remember ever feeling. The rich sound of his voice soothes my weary soul. Together, all the sounds that make up AJ Morello lull me into a cozy cocoon of warmth I wish could last forever.
11
AJ
"AJ!" My eyes drift open, still glazed over from the nightmare attacking my subconscious. "Are you okay? You're screamin’ in your sleep."
Casey's eyes are as crisp and clear as the afternoon sky outside her bedroom window. Just staring into them fills me with an instant sense of calm. "Yeah. Bad dream."
The nightmares have started up again, as fresh and vibrant as ever. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is wreckage. The taunting sounds of sirens and screams fill my ears. I hear Jillian crying my name, but I can't find her. My arms and legs are concrete. No matter how many times I try to move, I’m stuck.
Concern crosses Casey's beautiful face, a look I inadvertently put there. Punishment for mistakes I’ve made and can't undo. I finger the scar in my hairline. The puckered flesh is a visual reminder of the damage still lingering inside.
Casey's fingertips follow mine, tracing the Frankenstein mark on my forehead, proof of how broken I once was. "Tell me about this."
I pull a Marlboro Red from the box and hold it up between my fingers. “You mind?”
“Nah. Go ahead.”
Lighting my cig, I take a long drag, holding the sweet smoke in my lungs before letting it out. Casey rests on my shoulder, extending two fingers and taking the cigarette from my hand. I watch the orange glow on the cherry as she places it to her lips and takes a hit before handing it back. She exhales slowly, letting the smoke billow out of her gorgeous mouth.
“I was in a car wreck,” I say, flicking my ashes into a half-empty Solo cup on the table.
“A bad one?”
"Bad enough. But the accident isn't the worst part. It's what happened before it that haunts me." I pause to take a drag on my cigarette, summoning the memory that won't leave me alone.
“I found my sister in bed with my best friend. Shit got ugly.” I slip the cigarette between my lips and pull before handing it back to Casey a second time. “I wasn’t too keen on the idea of them together. I guess I wasn’t too keen on the idea of anyone touching my little sister.”
“Overprotective brother syndrome.” Smoke curls around Casey’s lips when she talks.
“Yeah, I guess. Some words were said, some punches were thrown. I got in my car, just to blow off some steam, ya know? Next thing I know, I’m in the hospital hooked up to all kinds o
f machines and shit. Jillian’s crying at my bedside. I lost two weeks of my life asleep.”
The butt sizzles as it hits the water in the cup, and I continue. “My mother’s dying wish was for me to watch out for my sister, and I accepted the task so literally that I almost killed myself in the process. I’ll never forgive myself for what I put Jillian through.”
Emotion stings my eyes as I remember how small and meek Jill looked in the chair next to me. She didn’t leave my side. Even in the coma, I was aware of what was going on around me. They aren’t real memories, though. More like faded dream sequences that come and go in waves. It was hard to tell the difference between fantasy and reality. I’d hear a voice and imagine it elsewhere. I’d hear music and think I was at a concert. It all seemed so real. The power of the brain is an amazing thing, but the only constant in every dream I had was Jillian.
My insides shriek with remorse, but my exterior remains stoic as usual. I don’t cry. Even when my mother died, not one tear fell from my eyes. My father sobbed, the emptiness he felt losing his soul mate filling him to the point of agony; Jillian wailed like a dying animal, but my eyes were dry as a bone through the entire service and beyond. I’m the strength when everyone around me falls apart. It’s my cross to bear.
"But it was an accident. You didn't do it on purpose."
I detach from her embrace and climb out of bed. My blood feels stagnant lying in this spot, and I need to move to get it pumping again. Casey just sits, watching me stalk the room as memories threaten to drown me. "I wished for a way out, Case. I was a young guy saddled with more responsibility than I was ready for. I hated my life, and I resented my parents for dying and forcing me to finish what they created. I was twenty years old, and every dream I ever had was burned to ash along with my father."
"What would you be doin’ if things were different?" Petite fingers close around my wrist, stopping my pacing.
Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology Page 9
