by Jayne Frost
“You should’ve known that wouldn’t work on her,” Bridgette mumbled.
Blowing off my glare, she flounced off, taking the expensive bottle of bourbon.
Fuck this.
I ducked out from behind the bar, heading for my loft at a good clip, but my phone buzzed, slowing my steps. A message from Calista, the sober companion I’d enlisted to help with Laurel. Logan may not have agreed with transitional living, but this was non-negotiable. And since I trusted Calista with my life, she was the natural choice.
Dropping Laurel off. The kid is a handful. Refused to go to a meeting.
“Fuck,” I growled and then nearly tripped over the leg blocking my path. Glancing from the shapely calf to the bronzed thigh, I drank in the ample cleavage spilling from her body-hugging tank top.
Tiffany.
“Hey, darlin’,” I said.
Her lips curved into a welcoming smile around the straw of her cocktail. “Great set.” She nudged the empty chair with her foot. “Have a drink with me?”
I’d always enjoyed the cat and mouse with Tiffany. Even pictured her mouth wrapped around my dick on a couple occasions. But tonight, nothing stirred below the belt.
I flopped onto the wooden chair and looked around, hopeful. “Where’s your friend?”
If Tiffany couldn’t get the job done, maybe a double shot was what I needed.
“She’s around.” Her foot brushed the back of my denim-clad calf. “Did you want me to find her?”
Bridgette picked that very moment to stroll up to the table. She slammed a rocks glass in front of me. More Jack, I assumed, from the color of the liquid.
“Figured you might need this.”
I met her furious gaze with a smile. “Thanks, darlin’.”
Exasperated, she flounced off.
“Friend of yours?” Tiffany asked with a smirk.
I picked up my drink, my gaze roaming over Tiffany’s tits. I could clearly see the outline of two pebbled nipples straining the thin fabric of her camisole.
Well, fuck me. Why not?
“I have friends,” I slipped my free hand over hers, “and I have friends. Bridgette’s not that kind of friend. Know what I mean?”
Tiffany licked her lips. “I know exactly what you mean. Why don’t you finish your drink and we’ll go find Amber?”
A night with Tiffany and Amber sounded like the kind of distraction I needed. She shivered as my palm skimmed up her arm.
I tipped forward, and we were eye-to-eye. “You read my mind.”
What the actual fuck are you doing?
Less than fifteen minutes ago, I was headed out to the parking lot at Nite Owl with two very willing women. Then, inexplicably, I waved down a cab and hustled them into the back seat.
Now, here I was in the lobby of BlueBonnet Towers being scrutinized by the night watchman.
Phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, he fanned himself with Taryn’s license, smirking.
Blowing out an exasperated breath, I glanced at his name tag while I drummed my fingers on the marble desk.
Murphy.
“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Morales,” Murphy said to the head of building security. “I’ve got a Chase Noble trying to access the mainframe to speak to a tenant. Says he works at the Phoenix Group.”
Even if I hadn’t heard Javier’s roar, I could pinpoint the exact second my head of security delivered the news. Murphy’s face went ghostly white, the smile dropping from his lips.
Pulling the receiver from his ear like the plastic was burning his skin, Murphy held it out for me. “He wants to s-speak to you, Mr. Noble.”
Mr. Noble? Ten seconds ago, I was pond scum. If I were a betting man, I’d place a hefty wager that the security guard now knew he was standing in front of the owner of the whole damn building.
Murphy swallowed hard, his gaze darting to the tattoo on my forearm. A phoenix rising from the ashes. The same insignia etched on the door of the building. And engraved on the brass insert between the elevators. And on his paycheck.
Lifting the phone to my ear, I rested my elbows on the marble counter while a string of apologies raced across the line from Morales.
“Javier …” Ignoring me, my head of security continued to splutter. “Javier, enough. Murphy was just doing his job.” I pinched the bridge of my nose as the chatter continued. “No need to get all worked up. I don’t have my badge. Don’t apologize.”
I handed the phone back to Murphy while Javier’s squawking continued. Murphy stared at the receiver, unsure.
“Just hang up,” I said. “He’ll be at it for the next five minutes, at least.”
Stunned into silence, Murphy followed my order.
“I meant what I said. You were just doing your job.” Handing Murphy my Nite Owl business card, I glanced over his red face and no-nonsense crew cut. “But hear me on this: there are plenty of people in Austin that don’t look like typical …” Millionaires? Moguls? Every moniker screamed arrogance. “Businessmen. We have a lot of artist types in this city. So don’t judge a book by its cover. You hearing me?”
Murphy nodded, and I was a little afraid the dude might keel over, so I continued, “If Javier gives you any shit, you call me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Murphy ran a hand over his short crop of spiky hair. “Yes, Mr. Noble. I’m sorry. I—”
“No worries. If you can just call Ms. Ayers and announce me, please? Tell her I have her wallet.”
Murphy glanced at the screen. “She’s in 6F. Just turn right when you get off the elevator. It’s the fifth door.”
I leaned across the desk. “I don’t care if the president walks through that door. You never allow anyone onto that elevator without being announced unless they’re on the tenant’s approved list. Or I’ll fire your ass myself. We crystal on that?”
Speechless again, Murphy nodded.
My bravado melted away as he pressed the button for 6F. After all this trouble, I’d look like a total whack job if Taryn refused to see me.
Gripping the edge of the desk as Murphy explained the situation to Taryn, I waited for the verdict.
He set down the phone with a smile. “She said to go on up.”
I didn’t let out the breath I was holding until I reached the sixth floor. Pausing in front of 6F, I pulled Taryn’s little clutch from my back pocket.
Before I could knock, the door swung open. My greeting caught in my throat as I glanced over the silk robe tied loosely at Taryn’s waist. Miles of creamy skin from her neck to her navel begged for my touch. Or my tongue. I was still debating the options when she folded her arms over her chest, blocking my view.
“How did you know where I lived?”
I leaned against the doorframe. “Driver’s license.”
Zeroing in on the little studded coin purse in my hand, Taryn made a grab for the wallet. “Thank—”
“Hold on.” Catching her hand, I slid her arm behind her back. “Why did you walk out of the club that way? You couldn’t wait fifteen minutes?”
“If you wanted me there, you would have asked me to stay.”
She was right, of course. But as I stared into her stormy eyes, I couldn’t figure out why I’d ever wanted her to leave. With her body pressed to mine, everything else seemed inconsequential.
“My bad.”
Hurt flashed across her features like a lightning strike. “You don’t have to keep up this game anymore, Chase. I get it.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
She chuffed out a breath. “Just give me your demo. I’ll pass it on to one of the junior managers.”
Her hand landed on my chest, fisting my shirt. Did she want to let me go or hold on tight?
A whole lot of wishful thinking, and I opted for the latter, pulling her closer. “I’m kind of insulted that you’d pawn me off on a junior anything. But lucky for you, I don’t hold a grudge. And I’m not in the market for a manager.”
It bothered me more than I’d l
ike to admit that Taryn didn’t appreciate my music. Before any of her clients ever dug their way out of the dive bar scene, I had an agent, a manager, and a record deal.
She narrowed her eyes. “You expect me to believe someone with your talent has no interest in the music business?”
Taryn flung the words like a javelin. Definitely not a compliment.
Still, I smiled. “I can assure you, I have no interest in the music business. I don’t have a demo, and the only deal I’m interested in is whatever will get you out of that robe.”
Ghosting my lips over hers, I worked my way to her cheek and then to her ear. Fuck, she felt good. Too good.
“You want me to leave, Taryn? I’ll leave.” I flicked my tongue over her earlobe. “Tell me to go.”
Is that what I wanted—for Taryn to tell me to leave? It’s what I needed. The girl was a craving. An all-consuming flame. For me, that was dangerous. If I weren’t fairly certain that once I buried myself in her sweet body the hunger would subside, I might’ve been worried.
Her fingers trailed my jaw, but I tipped my head back. “Not good enough. You gotta say it.”
“Don’t,” she croaked.
Sliding my hand to her thigh, I hoisted her to eye level. “Don’t leave? Or don’t stay?”
She blinked. “Don’t leave.”
Something in her tone threw me a little. Vulnerability? Uncertainty?
“Are you sure?”
Quit trying to talk her out of it, you stupid fuck.
Breathy, she whispered, “Yes.”
And I couldn’t resist any longer. I buried one hand in her hair and tilted her head at just the right angle. A chaste kiss to her lips, and then I moved down and down, until my face was buried in the crook of her neck. Rain. She smelled like the rain.
“Just a taste,” I murmured.
And when she arched, pressing those perfect tits against me, I stepped inside with her in my arms. Into the storm.
Chapter 9
Taryn
Chase kicked the door closed, trapping the rest of the world on the other side. He wasn’t part of my past or my future. Only my present. A stitch in time not tainted by everything that came before. And for once, that was enough.
At the foot of the stairs, Chase’s hands slid to my ass. “Hold on tight, Taryn. Don’t let go.” I slanted my gaze to his and found that same hesitation I saw earlier. Or maybe not, because a second later we were climbing.
As he eased me onto the bed, he pressed a kiss to my lips and then rumbled, “Tell me what you want.”
I didn’t know what I wanted. And why was he asking?
“I … um …”
Palming my breast, his thumb circled my nipple until it rose to a painful peak. “You want my mouth here?”
I nodded, sliding my hand into his hair.
His palm skimmed lower to the juncture of my thighs. “How about here?” Chase nudged my legs apart, and then his fingers dipped inside my panties and, ghosting his lips over mine he asked, “What about here?”
I lost the ability to think, let alone speak, when he pushed a finger inside.
“Say it, Taryn. Tell me you want my mouth right here.”
He added another finger and began to thrust, his thumb grazing my swollen clit.
“I want … Oh … fuck …”
My response died on a moan when Chase claimed my mouth. His kiss was hungry, possessive, and his tongue kept perfect rhythm with his fingers as he stroked.
Molding my hands to his shoulders, I held on tight when he found a spot inside my body that sent all the blood rushing to my head. “Chase … I’m going to …”
He kissed his way to my nipple, and when he scored his teeth along the pebbled peak, I fell to pieces, grinding out my release on his hand.
“Fuck, Taryn,” he growled. “I can feel you coming.”
Embarrassed, I pressed my head into the pillow. I’d never flown apart like that so easily.
Chase’s mouth continued to explore along my ribs and over my stomach. And then he was there.
I peered down with a hammering heart. “Chase … what are you …?”
Our eyes locked as he dragged his tongue along my inner thigh. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
His gaze was all intensity and fire and want. He wanted this. With me.
“Don’t stop.”
The groan that ripped from my chest when his tongue flicked over my clit echoed off every wall. And then Chase dove in with wild abandon, one arm coiled around my leg and those talented fingers thrusting deep inside me again. When I started to soar, his teeth joined the party.
“Oh God … Oh God …”
My back bowed, and I called his name, shattering under his touch. When the euphoric haze receded, I found Chase watching me, a hint of that victory smile curving his lips.
He pressed a kiss to my hip, and then to each breast, and finally to my mouth. “You ready for me?”
Was I?
Don’t think …
His words from this morning quieted my thoughts, and everything outside this room melted away. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I took what he had to offer.
Oblivion.
Chase rolled onto his back, panting, and I heard the snap of latex as he pulled the condom off. I snorted a laugh when he tossed it into the trash. “Good shot.”
I had no filter after sex, and normally that was fine. But I didn’t know Chase, and my brand of humor wasn’t always on point.
He laughed, though, and tugged my arm, urging me toward him.
Sprawled on his chest, I peered up with heavy lids.
“The calm after the storm,” he said as he ran a lazy hand up and down my spine
“What does that mean?”
Though I didn’t think there was a universe where Chase could pull off shy, that’s just how he looked.
Tucking one arm behind his head, he shrugged. “You remind me of these storms up by where my grandparents used to live. The sky would turn all colors of blue and gray.” Tilting my chin, he smiled. “Like your eyes. And then the rain would come. Warm rain. That’s what you smell like.”
Sifting my fingers through the dusting of baby fine hair on his chest, I sighed. “I guess I can live with that. Where is this magical place?”
“Stonewall. Right off 290. It’s outside of—”
A boulder landed on my back, steeling my breath. “I know where it is.”
As I fought to untangle our limbs, Chase caught my wrist. “What is it?”
Even with the blood pounding a thunderous beat between my ears, I heard myself say in a calm voice, “Nothing. I just … I need the bathroom.”
His eyes stayed on me as I shrugged into my robe and hurried to the bathroom.
Stumbling to the medicine cabinet, I searched the shelves for the outdated prescription.
I sank onto the side of the tub with the bottle in hand and tried to pry off the safety cap.
“Fuck.”
My trembling fingers wouldn’t cooperate, and I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Need some help?”
Jerking my gaze to the door where Chase stood propped against the frame, I swallowed hard. “No.”
The word came out as a strangled rasp.
Chase contemplated for a moment before slowly pushing off the wall and, crouching in front of me, he curved his hands around my bare thighs. “Let me help you, baby.”
Help? He couldn’t help. Nobody could.
“You can’t,” I whispered.
Deft fingers gently pried the bottle from my grasp, and then Chase pushed to his feet and wandered to the sink while I focused on the swirling patterns in the tile floor.
He returned with a glass of water. “Here.”
I scowled when he popped the cap off the bottle with ease.
“Stupid bottle,” I grumbled.
He pressed an orange pill into my palm and knelt in front of me. “I’m sorry,” he said, brushing the hair out of my eyes. “I know the accident was on 2
90. I just … I wasn’t thinking. I forgot.”
Swallowing the pill, I nodded. “So did I.”
And I had. For a minute, or ten, I’d forgotten the one thing that was always with me. I’d forgotten Paige. And that could never happen.
When I got up the courage, I met Chase’s concerned gaze. “It’s been a long day. I think I should get some rest.”
I waited for him to exercise the out clause, but instead, he started rooting through the bottles of scented bubble bath on the ledge surrounding the garden tub.
“What are you doing?” I asked when he turned on the faucet.
“Drawing you a bath. Warm, hot, or extra hot?”
“Um … hot, I guess.”
After pouring a liberal amount of thick, purple liquid under the stream, Chase shoved to his feet. “Towels?”
The medication calmed my nerves but did nothing for the embarrassment. I didn’t want Chase’s pity. The sooner I got into that tub, the faster he’d leave.
“I’ll get it,” I said as I wobbled to my feet.
When I returned from the linen closet, Chase was seated on the edge of the tub, a smile tugging his lips. “Are we going to share that, or are you expecting me to air dry?”
“Huh?”
He stalked toward me. “I guess we’ll share.”
Slipping an arm around my waist, he urged me toward the tub. Lingering above the sweet smell of gardenia wafting from the frothy bubbles, I could smell Chase all around me.
He smelled new.
New?
Fucking pill, messing with my head.
“Do you need help with that?” Chase asked, dropping his gaze to my fingers coiled tightly around the sash on my robe.
“No. I got it.”
Fumbling with the tie, I stole glances at Chase’s Adonis-like frame when he turned to adjust the water. Mesmerized by the Celtic knot inked on his shoulder, I shuffled forward.
His stilled as I traced my finger over the script woven inside the intricate design.
Soul Bound.
Hope Drowned.
Redemption Found.
“Who said that?” I asked.
He slid his boxers off his hips and then stepped into the tub, sinking into the cloud of bubbles. “I did. Now come here.”
