Seattle Sound Series, The Collection: Books One to Five

by Alexa Padgett

  He picked up the pace a little with each thrust. His breath shattered in my ear. I spread my legs wider, needing more. His chest rumbled against me as he dropped over my back, forcing me to land on my hands on the mattress. The next thrust had us both moaning. He was so deep. I loved it, and I told him so.

  That broke his restraint and Clay’s teeth found my shoulder as he gripped my hips, slamming into my willing body. I pushed back into each of his thrusts, searching for that pleasure coiling deep in my belly. When it finally released, I screamed his name. Loud. My throat hurt as I started to sink down, my muscles so relaxed I couldn’t hold them up anymore.

  Clay lifted my hips, positioning me so he could continue pounding into my body. I took him, marveling at his stamina. He grew even bigger before he stiffened. His balls pulsed against my thigh as he grunted his release. Finally, he sighed, falling next to me on the bed.

  I rolled into him, and he wrapped his arms around me. I giggled at his racing heart.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You’re so quiet when you come, and I’m not.”

  He smiled, kissing the tip of my nose.

  “I like you screaming my name. Total turn-on.”

  “I like how you feel sliding in and out of my body,” I said, running my thumb along the short whiskers on his jaw.

  “Abbi. Stop it. You’re making me hard again.”

  I kissed that spot in the middle of his chin.

  “Good.”

  He narrowed his eyes before rolling me over onto my back. “You asked for it.”

  I stretched up to him. “No. I asked for you. Inside me.”

  Clay’s nostrils flared as he stared down at me. “Oh, you’ll get me. Again.”

  “And again and again?”

  He didn’t answer, he was too busy kissing me.

  25

  Clay

  “So your family…” I said.

  Abbi turned toward me, wearing an embroidered cotton tee and low-slung panties. I had to resist the urge to pull them off with my teeth. I wanted to take her back to bed and hear her scream my name in that breathy voice she used in the throes of passion.

  Yep. Hard.

  “What about them?”

  I blinked back the daydream and pulled on my jeans, hoping the layers of clothing would help reduce my reawakened desire. No such luck.

  “Are you going to show them the pictures?”

  Abbi sat on the edge of the bed so I settled next to her. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt until I stilled her hands. She leaned her damp hair against my shoulder, and I could feel the fine tremors moving through her narrow frame.

  “I need to.” She tipped her head back to meet my gaze. She faced her fears and the hard situations with equal determination. That was one of the reasons I loved Abbi. I stilled, my thumb resting on her chin as I considered her face.

  I didn’t love her. I just . . . cared about her. As a friend. That I was having the best sex of my life with.

  “My mom’s going to want me to stay there.”

  “No.” The word tumbled out before I thought it through—before I understood the consequences of what I’d just said.

  Abbi raised an eyebrow, waiting.

  “You should stay here. With me.” What. The. Fuck? Did I really want that?

  My gaze lingered on her long legs. I wanted her in my bed, no doubt there. But . . . in my life?

  “There’s so much we don’t know about each other,” she said as if reading my mind. “I mean, what if you leave dirty socks on the floor or like to get up at five a.m. to jog?”

  I ducked my head.

  “So that’s a yes to both of those?” She laughed again, standing to grab some jeans from her bag.

  “I don’t always do either. What are some of your bad habits?” I asked, shocked by my interest. Standing, I went to my dresser and pulled out socks. Glancing around my room, I breathed out a sigh of relief. I didn’t have any piles of clothes on the floor. They usually made it to the hamper in my closet.

  “I hate five a.m. Six thirty is much more civilized. Oh, and I don’t drink coffee very often. . .”

  “What the hell’s wrong with you? Aren’t you American?”

  She grimaced. “Like that’s a new one. I need to doctor it up until it barely resembles a dark brown liquid. Think milkshake color. It’s so bitter.”

  “Not the good stuff.”

  She flipped her hair back and padded into my bathroom. I marveled at the sexy swing of her hips. She popped her head back out, brushing out the tangles in her long hair.

  “Not changing my mind.”

  “We can add stubborn.”

  She stuck out her tongue, and I chuckled as I went to collect my shoes. I moved her bag into my closet and hung up the pants and tops, surprised by how right her much smaller clothes looked next to mine. I tucked her lingerie onto a shelf and placed her shoes on the floor after scooting mine over with my foot. Stowing her bag, I met her in the bedroom.

  She had on some lip gloss but nothing else. “I’m probably going to cry,” she said with a shrug. “Seemed stupid to put on mascara.”

  “I like you all fresh-faced. A lot. Your skin’s soft.” I rubbed my thumb across her cheek. “But right now I’m starving. So let’s get something to eat.”

  I led her out of my room. Quiet as the place was, I assumed everyone was gone.

  A note stuck on the door confirmed that. Reminder: Gig at Tractor Tavern tonight. Practice at 5 sharp!

  Kai. Good thing he’d reminded me. This gig was a huge coup for us—one of the hottest places to play alt-country in Seattle. The best part was the owner had called us because he’d seen a concert at another place a couple months back.

  I’d still like Abbi to come to my concert, see us play. We might not be as good as Asher’s band, but we were talented.

  “Bagel?” I asked, holding up one of those everything ones. “Not as much fun as the waffles, but we have a schedule to uphold.”

  Abbi blushed, but the look she threw me was pure heat. Yeah, teasing her meant teasing myself. I busied myself with popping the bread in the toaster. I knew she’d seen the note. The large black letters were hard to miss. She didn’t say anything, though, and I didn’t bring it up.

  “Do you have peanut butter? I prefer it to cream cheese.”

  I pulled out the jar and she grabbed a bottle of water before slathering her bagel. She brought my plate over while I heated the water for my pour-over. At Abbi’s raised eyebrows, I shrugged, unapologetic. “Yeah, I’m a coffee snob.”

  We ate in relative silence, me waiting for my cup of coffee before eating my bagel. Abbi’s face grew more and more pensive. She took my plate as soon as I finished eating, loading it into the dishwasher.

  She rubbed her hands over her hips. “Do you think we can go now? I’m getting nervous.”

  I walked around the bar and pulled her into my arms. “This is your family, Abbi. They’ll love you, no matter what.”

  She clung to me, just like Cassidy used to when she went out too deep in the swimming pool. Finally, Abbi shuddered and loosened her grip. I tried not to wince but I knew I’d have bruises.

  Asher’s house wasn’t what I expected—it wasn’t as showy as the place I’d grown up in. While it was large with an open concept, it was in a neighborhood with other family homes. The house was sided in a rusty red, a modern take on the traditional Northwestern architecture. As soon as Abbi’s mom opened the door, I could see the back lawn, a bright jewel-green that led to a long, weathered dock into Lake Washington.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Lia said into Abbi’s hair, holding her tight.

  Abbi returned the squeeze while I stood to the side, uncomfortable because of the emotion pouring off the two women. Abbi pulled back, brushing her hair back and took my hand.

  “You remember Clay.”

  Lia smiled, and I was struck by the similarities. While Abbi’s eyes were nearly violet to Lia’s gray, the two women were the same
height and had the same color hair. Lia wore hers shorter and layered, while Abbi’s hair was longer, and she sported bangs.

  Lia pulled me in for a hug, reminding me once again of my mother. I patted her back. Lia pulled back and led us into the house.

  “Asher will be down in a second. He had a call about some new project. He decided to barbecue,” Lia said, her voice conspiratorial. “I think to show off in front of Hayden. Those two are ridiculous. We may end up calling for pizza.”

  “Where’s Mason?” Abbi asked.

  “He’s at Simon and Ella’s, playing with Jeremiah. We thought you might want to talk to us first.”

  Lia nibbled her lip just like Abbi did when she was nervous.

  “You want a drink or something?”

  “Water’s great.”

  “Hey,” Asher said from the stairs. He strode forward and wrapped Abbi in a big hug. I was happy to see her clutch his shoulders, obviously glad to see him. He kissed her cheek before holding out a hand to me.

  “Good to see you again, Clay.”

  “Thanks, you, too.”

  “Clay’s band has a gig tonight,” Abbi said. “At Tractor Tavern. He’s going to dedicate a song to me.” She smirked at me, and I couldn’t help but grin as I shook my head.

  “I am now,” I said, chuckling. “I wasn’t sure if you still wanted to come.”

  Abbi rolled her eyes. “That’s what girlfriends do—support their guys.”

  I lifted her hand to kiss her knuckle, hoping it covered my grimace. Girlfriend. Moving in together. I’d lost total control of my life.

  “We’ll see if we can get a sitter. I’m sure Hayden and Simon would like to hear you play, too. Want me to call Liz, Dahlia? You can see if Simon and Ella want to bring Jeremiah here for a sleepover.”

  “Sure,” Lia said. “I’ll text El in a sec after I get the kids a drink.”

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. It had been a long time since anyone called me a kid, even my parents. And Lia was younger than they were by nearly a decade.

  We trailed her into the kitchen. She handed each of us a glass.

  “The suspense in killing me, Abs,” she said. “The paper was fairly tight-lipped about the story, and Clay didn’t add much.”

  Lia looked pale and Asher hooked his arm over her shoulder, leading her to one of the broken-in leather couches. They sat and looked over at Abbi.

  Abbi took my free hand and led us to the other couch. “I need to go to the car for a minute and grab something.”

  She turned and headed out the door, leaving me alone with her family. Awkward didn’t begin to cover the moment.

  “You don’t have to come tonight,” I said, setting my glass on one of the coasters.

  “Actually, we do. For Abbi,” Asher said. “But also because I’ve wanted to hear you guys.”

  “How is she, Clay?” Lia asked, leaning forward. Her gray eyes were filled with worry. I wished I could reassure her, but I didn’t think either of them would like platitudes.

  “She’s doing better than I would in her situation. And, just so you know, I want her to move into my apartment. I have much better security than the dorms. I live there with Dane Anderson—he’s our guitarist. His girlfriend Nessa and Abbi are good friends.”

  Lia nibbled her lip again. Maybe I shouldn’t have led with asking Abbi to move in with me. These were her parents, no matter how cool they were.

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Lia said, eyes moving to the door. “She trusts you. Something she hasn’t done in far too long. I get that she doesn’t want to live here, though I’d love to have her home again.” Lia’s eyes closed, her lashes sweeping her cheek as she shuddered.

  “Do you think she blames me?” Asher asked. His deep voice was filled with concern, even a little hurt.

  “I don’t. I never did,” Abbi said as she walked back into the room. “I love you, Asher. You know that.”

  Asher looked relieved, like really, deeply. I was glad to see so much caring between them. I knew Abbi was going to need it. She held the manila envelope to her chest and I could see her hands shaking.

  “I love you, Asher, but please, don’t look at these.” She cleared her throat, her words still thick. “Not while I’m here at least. I’m sure you’ll need to at some point, but—”

  She held the envelope she’d shown me on Tuesday. The pictures were copies of the ones we’d seen on her walls yesterday. She thrust the envelope toward her mom then came to sit down next to me. I picked up her hand, squeezing just a little, before settling my palm atop hers on her thigh.

  “I need to tell you what I remember from that night.”

  26

  Abbi

  Telling my parents was easier than I expected. They listened, Mom gripping Asher’s hand as tight as I gripped Clay’s.

  Steve no longer had the power to hurt me. Not just because I hadn’t been raped, but because the pictures were out there now; maybe not completely public yet. If they did come out, I could point the finger back to him, thanks to Sally. The communication exchanges between the two of them were also in the folder. Aunt Briar had copies of all the information, and she’d texted me yesterday to say she’d talked to Sally.

  Steve and his friends would have to face the consequences for what they’d done.

  My mom’s face was pale but she didn’t seem close to having a panic attack.

  “You’re so good for her,” I told Asher.

  He nodded, a little absently. “When did you realize more than one person was involved?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Clarify,” Mom said.

  She was holding it together, but not by much. I frowned but she made a motion with her hand. I continued whether she was ready or not.

  “I told you Sally contacted me? She told me she’d suggested Steve take pictures of me and sell them to some media outlet.”

  Dahlia looked down at her hands, clearly upset.

  “And that was the night you can’t remember?” Asher said.

  I nodded. “I think someone put GBH in my drink—and before you ask, I had water. There’s no way I should’ve passed out, and there’s no, no way I couldn’t remember that night unless they did something to me. I had strep, remember? A really bad case. I ended up needing two rounds of antibiotics.”

  Lia set the envelope down on the coffee table before knotting her fingers in her lap. “Why didn’t you tell us then? Once you realized there were more photos?”

  I bowed my head. Clay ran his hand over my hair, waiting for me to gather enough courage. “I was ashamed. I didn’t know how far it had gone. If they had, you know, raped me. And all I could think about was the press. More cameras, more stories.”

  “Oh, Abbi.” Mom stood, rounding the coffee table before pulling me into her arms. She hugged me tight like she used to when we found out Dad was sick. “I love you,” she said, her voice low and gruff with emotion.

  “It was stupid, but I was scared. I was naked when I woke up, so I knew there had to be more pictures once the first came out. The ones in the envelope—Mom, they’re bad,” I whispered.

  “They hurt you.” Asher’s hands locked between his knees and his face pulled taut with anguish. “I’m so, so sorry my fame led to that.”

  I dashed the tears from my cheeks. “But it didn’t. Maybe in the beginning. Because I let them.” Anger shot up from my stomach. Anger at my weakness.

  “I let them,” I whispered again.

  Mom pulled me around to look her in the face. “What Steve did was horrible. Unconscionable. Briar, Hayden, Simon, Ella . . . we all want to help. We need to make sure he doesn’t do it again.”

  “That’s what Clay said. I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger. I should’ve told you.” Tears blurred my eyes. “I just wanted you to be happy. You were finally happy. Asher’s the best thing that’s happened to us in years. I didn’t want to mess your relationship—”

  Asher stood, a little shaky, but he wrapped h
is arms around both of us, and I knew he was hurting, too. I’d done that.

  “I just wanted you to be proud of me. It got so messed up. I just wanted to make you proud.”

  27

  Clay

  Lia stepped back and Asher tipped Abbi’s face up, kissing her forehead.

  Abbi pressed her cheek to his chest, eyes squeezed tight. “Thank you for being my dad.”

  “Always, Abigail.”

  A tear streaked from the corner of Asher’s eye that he didn’t bother to wipe away. He hugged her tighter, and I moved toward the kitchen. This moment was private, and I didn’t need to witness more of it.

  Lia fell into step next to me, leaning in. “You’re the reason Abbi was willing to mention this?” She held up the envelope.

  I shook my head, uncomfortable with her suggestion. “She was ready.”

  “This is a lot of emotion. You look like you could use a breather. Maybe a beer? I know Asher will approve. He’s going to want one once he gets his equilibrium back.”

  “Thanks.” I trailed behind her, noting how homey the kitchen was.

  Her lips curled up in a small, sad smile. “Thank you for giving Abbi back a piece of herself.” Lia shivered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “How anyone could . . . Horrifying.”

  “Abbi!” Mason shrieked, running into the house. Lia turned away, shoving the pictures into the built-in kitchen desk drawer.

  “So sorry, love. He broke away, the little demon.” A petite woman with round, rosy cheeks and sparkling brown eyes glided into the room. She pecked Lia on the cheek before turning toward me. “And who might you be? Big, strong, and simply divine. I’m guessing you’ve netted our darling Abbi.”

  “Erm.” I rubbed the back of my neck, shocked by how discomfited I was with the woman’s comments. Abbi came up next to me.

  “Stop, Aunt Ella. You’re embarrassing Clay, and I really want to keep him.”