Locked and Loaded (Bullet, #6)

by Jade C. Jamison

  Dr. Harvey started laughing. “So he’s documented every single woman you’ve been with?”

  “Ah...I don’t know for sure. He might have missed one or two.”

  “That’s all right, Zane. I don’t need an accurate head count. I just need an estimate. Let’s make this easier. In a day, how many times—on average—would you say you engaged in either sexual intercourse or something close?”

  “On tour or—?”

  “Yes. On tour.”

  Zane thought about the last tour—the one with Ethan and their side project band Sinful Disobedience. Jenna had joined Ethan on tour, so Ethan was no longer Zane’s wingman (although copilot would probably be a more apt expression), but the new guys were young and horny, so Zane didn’t seem out of place or over the top in comparison. And he’d been lucky enough that Ronnie, his best and most trusted roadie from Fully Automatic, had been along for the tour. The guy knew his type—blonde, nice tits, small ass—and never failed to line them up. Zane always had his pick, so he got the finest metal-lovin’ pussy from coast to coast. “Uh...two or three times a day.”

  “How many partners?”

  “At a time or—?”

  “Did you engage in sexual relations with multiple partners often?”

  Zane shrugged. “Once in a while but no...that wasn’t my usual bag.” He sighed. Goddamn, he was going to sound like a whore. But it didn’t matter. He always left Dr. Harvey’s office not only feeling better but with food for thought. And the more he talked, the better he felt. He didn’t know if it was because the sessions were a lot like confession and he felt absolved of multiple crimes every time he walked out the door, but it worked, so he would keep talking. “Usually, it was just one chick.”

  “For how long? I mean...did she stay with you for a day or a week or month or...?”

  Zane blinked. Truth was hard sometimes. “One chick at a time.”

  Dr. Harvey cleared his throat. “For each session?”

  “Um...yeah. So if I had sex three times in a day, it was usually with three different girls.”

  The gray-haired man nodded. “Seven days a week...while on tour?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So...by my estimation, no fewer than fourteen different partners per week, perhaps more. Does that sound right?” Zane swallowed and nodded. God, when he put it that way... “Have you ever heard of sex addiction, Zane?”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  ZANE DROVE DOWN the freeway, lost in thought. The doctor had once more given him plenty of food for thought. Zane had always found the idea of being addicted to sex comical—mainly because he’d truly been addicted to drugs and alcohol. Sex was nothing like that. Sure, he craved it...wanted it, needed it—but what normal, young human being on the planet didn’t? It was like saying people could be addicted to air.

  And yet, as he watched the white lines on the road dart past the car, he knew that what Dr. Harvey had said earlier in the day rang true. Just like with a drug, there was a high to be sought after, something an orgasm (and other chemical reactions) would do to his brain to reward his behavior. At first, Zane argued with Dr. Harvey—well, arguing was a bit strong of a word...but countering might be accurate. He strongly disagreed that he was addicted to sex. His obsession, if it could even be called that, was nothing close to addiction. “Ah,” Dr. Harvey had said. “But how much energy and thought each day do you—or did you—give to sex?”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t any more or less attention than any other healthy male in his twenties would give.”

  “You might be surprised, Zane.” They’d talked about the effort Zane put into making sure he had a woman before the show, after the show, and overnight in the hotel room when they stayed wherever they’d played. There was never a time on tour when he didn’t have at least two women to fuck—and then, when he and Dr. Harvey talked about his habits when he was off the road—well, they were more subdued, but it was obvious that Zane sought out sex. A lot. And even though the number of girls and amount of times were nowhere near what he experienced on the road, Dr. Harvey assured him the number was “impressive.” He was abstaining from other women now...but he could admit that was unusual, and it was only because of Jennifer.

  By the end of the session, though, Dr. Harvey had managed to convince Zane that he was, in fact, a sex addict...and accepting, he told him, was more than half the battle. His first task? He had to buy a pocket notebook and start recording information—writing down how often he thought about sex, what he was doing right before he had the thoughts, and also how often he engaged in sex each day.

  Masturbation was not included, although Zane and Dr. Harvey had discussed that Zane would likely have to document that he was thinking about sex at the time. And, while masturbation could potentially be part of the compulsive behavior that made up sexual addiction, it was a safer, healthier way to deal with the need—unless, of course, Zane started jerking off in public.

  He assured his shrink that wouldn’t happen.

  And he thought it would be cool that he wouldn’t be recording any actual sex for a while. But, by the time he got home, he did have a hard time remembering all the different times he’d thought about sex on the drive home so he could write them down. No, he wasn’t including the times he was thinking about it in the abstract—but thinking instead about the actual physical act...taking a hot, busty blonde in his arms, smelling her neck and hair, running his tongue along her cleavage, squeezing her soft buns in his fists before flipping her around and plunging inside her, letting her hot warmth envelope him in bliss.

  The doctor had also mentioned Cognitive Behavioral Therapy...and Zane said as long as it didn’t involve cutting his head open, he was all for it.

  Yeah...bad enough they’d be delving deep inside his noggin anyway—but he’d find a way to deal with it. For Jennifer, he’d do it. Hell, for that woman, he’d do almost anything.

  * * *

  Friday night. Jennifer was actually really excited to see Zane. He almost sounded...different. Less cocky, more humble...more his old self. She was almost afraid of thinking it, of being aware of it—and no way in hell was she going to say it to him.

  It didn’t matter. The truth was that everyone changed over time. Living life had a way of doing that to people. Yeah, sure, at the core, she was still the little girl who’d been shy and bullied, but over the years, she’d learned a lot. She’d become a little more vocal when the situation warranted it. She also knew what she wanted. And she could stick up for herself when she needed to. She knew that there was no way she could go back to being shy and quiet or overly introverted...nor would she want to. It had been almost painful to stay to herself that much. She loved the person she was now and felt pride in herself, and she hoped Zoe would look up to her and see her as a role model.

  She hoped that Zane could become that too.

  For now, though, she was cautiously optimistic. And now that Zane had discovered part of her secret—that she had a daughter—she was okay with him picking them up. She was happy that he’d had the idea of taking Zoe with them too. She’d learned to not worry about her daughter as much when she was away, but she wouldn’t worry one bit if Zoe was with them. Having onsite daycare at work had helped quite a bit with that, but sometimes leaving Zoe with a teenager had left Jennifer a little nervous. Fortunately, Kara was an okay kid.

  Zane rang the doorbell a few minutes early. Jennifer scooped Zoe up in her arms after grabbing a purse and diaper bag and pulled the door open.

  Holy crap.

  Zane looked...healthy. Vibrant. Alive. He hadn’t looked this good in a long time. In fact, he looked younger than the last time she’d seen him. She smiled as he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “Rehab looks good on you.”

  He smirked. “Thanks.” Then he grinned at Zoe. “Can I kiss you on the cheek too?”

  Her baby bounced against her hip, giggling—and Jennifer was surprised, because Zoe didn’t mind Zane pecking her on her cheek. The child wasn’
t scared a bit, but usually men freaked her out. That was a great sign. What would it have meant if Zoe had been afraid of her own father?

  “I think she likes you.”

  “Don’t all women?” She was going to roll her eyes but could tell by the look on his face that he was joking. “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Can I carry something?”

  “Nope. Got it. Thanks, though.”

  They started walking down the hallway when Zane said, “I was going to bring you some flowers but wasn’t sure what to get. I remembered you were allergic to something, but I couldn’t remember what.”

  “It’s not as bad as it used to be.”

  “Oh.”

  “But daisies. You’re thinking of daisies. They used to make me sneeze nonstop, and my eyes wouldn’t stop watering.” They had just arrived at the stairs when Jennifer said, “Oh, crap.”

  “What?”

  “I forgot the car seat. We’ll have to swing by my car so we can put it in yours.”

  “No problem.” Yeah...it was going to be hard getting used to dating Zane again—but she was looking forward to trying. He seemed to be so open and accepting of anything having to do with her daughter—their daughter—and she took that as a good sign.

  Hell, at this rate? She might be telling him by the end of the week about his fatherhood status.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  THUS FAR, ZANE would consider the evening a success. Zoe had been a well-behaved kiddo all though dinner, and she had merely affirmed in his mind that she was cute as all get out. Jen—she was more beautiful than ever, and she smiled and laughed and seemed to enjoy the meal and the company.

  Maybe it was true. Maybe he had been the cause of all their breakups, all their fights. If so, his cleaner lifestyle would correct the past.

  With Zoe buckled in her car seat and both adults belted in the front, Zane revved the engine to his Charger and backed out of the parking place. He made sure the radio wasn’t too loud, considering there were baby ears inside, and started cruising down the highway. When he took an exit long before where he would to take them back home, Jen asked, “Where are we going?”

  He grinned and glanced over at her. “It’s a surprise.” He stopped at the red light and peeked in the rearview mirror at Zoe. It wasn’t completely dark out yet, especially under the street lights, and he could see her looking at him. “You like surprises, don’t ya?”

  Zoe made a noise of affirmation and Zane winked at her. Jennifer said, “She really likes you, Zane.”

  “Feeling’s mutual. She’s a cutie.”

  “Yeah, well...I seem to remember all the girls having an eye for you.”

  He shrugged, not sure how to address that. The topic could open some nasty wounds, and he wanted the evening to continue the way it had—pleasant and light, not on the verge of argument, anger, and misunderstanding. “Girls have an eye for rock stars. I don’t know why that is...I just know it’s true.” It was then that the radio station started playing a Fully Automatic song, one Valerie had written back when they’d first started out, a song called “Metal Forever.” Only the recorded version, the one that fans heard nowadays, was sung by Brad. “I love when that happens.”

  “That’s got to be surreal.”

  “Sometimes, yeah...but I think I’m used to it more now than when we first started out.” They spent the next few minutes just listening to the song while Zane kept driving...and then he pulled the car into the Baskin-Robbins parking lot. “I still owed you ice cream, remember?”

  Jennifer started laughing. “Good thing Zoe likes sundaes.”

  “Who doesn’t like sundaes?” Zane got out of the car, but he still wasn’t fast enough to open the door for Jen. Damn...ever since she had a daughter, she seemed more focused. He knew it was because she was serious about her responsibilities as a mom, but it made him feel less needed.

  Like she could let him go.

  It didn’t used to be that way. Before her baby, they were mutually attracted to one another and always willing to try again. He didn’t get the feeling she was in the same place anymore.

  But that was okay, right? Because now—finally—he was getting his life on track. And that was what she’d asked for...all she’d asked for. So now she had to take him.

  Right?

  * * *

  If anyone ever asked about why she invited Zane up to her apartment when he dropped them off, Jennifer wouldn’t have any clue what to say. But it didn’t matter. It was done and it was too late to take it back.

  So Zane was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, waving good night to the little girl who was his daughter. Even though she had kept it a secret from both of them, it was almost as if they knew deep down.

  She wasn’t ready to tell them, though.

  She kissed her daughter on the cheek. “Sleepy time, baby. Sleep tight, angel.” Jennifer repeated her nighttime mantra—the same words she said to Zoe every night, because—according to the book on being a new mother that she’d bought a few months before her child was born—babies want and need consistency so, if nothing else, Jennifer did her best to be as consistent as possible.

  Then she walked toward the doorway and paused, blowing Zoe a kiss. Zoe grinned behind the pacifier in her mouth, but she kept her head down on the crib mattress—in spite of the fact that she really liked Zane, and Jennifer could tell the child would like nothing more than to get up and play.

  And her mother was tempted to let her.

  But consistency was key. What a good little girl.

  So Jennifer walked back to the living room quietly with Zane, again wondering why the hell she’d invited him up. She’d decided to take it slow, to see how he was doing, and he’d totally won her over, convincing her he was serious, was well on the road to recovery, And, because she loved this man so much, she wanted to believe him. There were no signs to the contrary, so why not?

  Once they’d made it back to the living room, she asked, “Want anything to drink?”

  “Yeah, actually. Something cool sounds good.”

  “Water? Iced tea?”

  “Whatever you’re having.”

  Jennifer led the way to the kitchen, flipping the light on while walking across the room to the cabinet to fetch a couple of glasses. “Thanks for tonight, Zane. I enjoyed myself.” She turned and walked toward the fridge, pressing the glass into the recess for ice and then cold water. “Zoe had fun too.”

  “You think?”

  “You couldn’t tell by the way she was smiling and giggling all night?”

  “Well...I hoped so, but I don’t spend a lot of time around little kids, so I wasn’t sure.”

  Jennifer handed him one of the glasses and held out her hand to let him know she wanted to leave the room. “Unlike grownups, children—especially little ones—don’t deceive. She has no ulterior motive. What you see is what you get. If she seems to be having fun or acts like she likes you...” Zane nodded as they walked into the living room. “Go ahead and have a seat.”

  He sat on the couch and she sat next to him. Another not-so-bright move, another one of those things she was doing that night that she wouldn’t be able to defend if she needed to.

  Well, no one had to know.

  The truth was she’d always had a soft spot when it came to Zane. Her resistance to him had always been weak. It wasn’t just that he was good looking, and it definitely wasn’t that he was in a band, because they’d had this insane chemistry, this powerful, undeniable attraction since they were in their late teens...before his band had broken big—long before.

  But that didn’t mean she was going to let him completely off the hook. “So...tell me about what’s going on with, uh...your recovery.” He wasn’t in rehab, so she couldn’t ask him about that, but she wanted to make sure he really was making progress.

  “It’s been...interesting.”

  “How so?”

  Was Zane Carson actually squirming? Something about it was making hi
m uncomfortable. He was preparing to answer, though, so she couldn’t fault him for it. “I’m actually learning some interesting things about myself.”

  Jennifer took a sip of her water before setting the glass on the coffee table. “Like what?”

  “Oh, Jesus, Jen. Stuff I’m not even ready to talk about.” She raised her eyebrows. She couldn’t help but feel a little dubious, in spite of the fact that maybe there were some pretty sensitive things he couldn’t discuss at the moment. “But...well, okay, like...like my dad. Like how he used to beat the shit out of me on a regular basis, pretending like I was a fuckin’ volleyball.”

  That made her feel like an asshole. She’d just had to push. “Oh. I’m sorry, Zane.”

  “Nah. It’s good for me to talk about it. This guy—my shrink—is a really good guy. I’ve never had a therapist like him, someone I actually feel like talking to, someone I want to help me.”

  “That’s good, Zane. That’s great.”

  “Yeah, it is.” He set his glass on the coffee table then, too, and looked Jennifer in the eyes. His gaze then was intense and she froze like a scared little rabbit. She knew what his intention was—to kiss her—and she was helpless in his shadow. She wanted him to kiss her—wanted and needed it badly.

  She had missed him and, for the first time in years, felt hope for him.

  For them.

  That sense of relief did wonders for her desire.

  So she leaned forward to meet his lips, but it seemed like it took forever for them to actually touch each other. She could feel his warm breath on her skin before his lips brushed against hers, and by the time his tongue tentatively entered her mouth, she was desperate and on fire. Almost against her will, she realized her hands had grabbed his shirt and she forced them to relax, laying them flat against his chest before letting them drift up. He was still kissing her hard—the first of many—by the time her fingers were coiled into his hair.

  How the hell did he do it? She was already hot and bothered and wet—and considering letting him have his way with her on the couch. It hadn’t been that long since they’d been together, but this time she was fully aware of what Zane had been going through over the past month or so. It wouldn’t be just a holy-crap-I-missed-you-and-forgot-how-attracted-to-you-I-am fuck; instead, it would be a completely controlled, fully aware journey, exploring their love for each other in the best way possible.