by Cari Quinn
Mal nodded. “I’m quivering in anticipation.”
Dobby and the others clomped off, their heavy motorcycle boots sounding as if they were marching in uniform steps. Mal glanced back at Ricki to find her laughing at him again. “I don’t normally find you this funny, do I?” She frowned, her chin wobbling, and it was possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen.
Since he never found anything cute, he wondered if he had a contact high just from touching her skin.
“I can say no, you do not. But you’re out of your comfort zone with me today, aren’t you, Little Ricki?” He finally released her and motioned to Teagan, who was still standing off to the side, now fixated on her phone. She noticed after a moment and hurried over, the pinch to her brow smoothing as she gave them a bright smile. “So Elle is performing tomorrow night? How cool. I can’t wait to watch her sing. You never told me you could, you jerk.” She shoved her friend lightly, and Ricki sharply sucked in a breath. Teagan frowned. “Shit, are you hurting? I didn’t realize. Oh God, I’m sorry I touched you like that.”
One more strike in Teagan’s column. She was clearly Captain Oblivious. And he thought he was bad.
“Look, Teagan, I’m sure you’re a good friend and all, but Ricki is coming back with me to the place I’m renting for a few days. We have stuff to work on. Band stuff,” he said at length.
Teagan’s green eyes lit. “Oh, I just bet.” She nudged Ricki’s foot with her shoe. “Something else you didn’t tell me, you skank. You said he had a girlfriend. Not so much, huh?”
Mal gave Ricki a sidelong glance. Interesting. She wasn’t paying much attention to the conversation though, just swaying to the canned music pumping through the speakers. Some dance pop beat he wouldn’t listen to voluntarily unless someone paid him. “I wanna dance,” she announced, grabbing Mal’s hand and dragging him behind her.
So that was a bit of a lie. If he’d planted his feet, she couldn’t have dragged him a millimeter. But her hand wrapped around his was enough to get him to follow her out the door to the short twisty staircase that led to the main floor beneath the stage that was used for dancing. He glanced back to let Teagan know where they’d be but she was gone.
Where the fuck had she disappeared to?
“Hey, wait up,” he said to Ricki, pulling her around to face him at the bottom of the stairs. “Your friend just AWOL’d.”
She waved a hand. “Maybe she’ll get some. I think she needs it. That guy Bobby asked us to have a threesome. I said maybe but she seemed more interested.”
“You said maybe to a fucking threesome with a stranger?”
Ricki laughed. “Teag’s not a stranger. We’ve been friends since high school, silly.” She gave him a light push. “Never done it with a girl. I kissed one once. With tongue. It was weird. Still kinda hot though. She was smokin’.”
Way too much information. Worse, way too much information his cock was enjoying. But he was not. He didn’t give two shits about sharing Ricki with anyone else, even a hot chick who liked to tongue-kiss other chicks.
“Let’s get you a water.” And a water for him too, to soak his head and his overexcited dick.
Having her hand curled inside his as if it belonged there was not helping matters.
“Not thirsty right now. I drank a ton already.” She licked her lips, her big blue eyes glowing up at him. “You look like you need to get drunk too. I needed it bad.” She swayed and he braced an arm against the small of her back. Her eyes unfocused as she stared at the crowd then she looked straight at him, painfully direct. “Jules won’t talk to me. I should’ve died. Not him. Not Randy.”
“Shut up. Don’t say that. Ever.” He gripped her chin with his other hand. “You listen to me, and you listen good. If I ever hear you say that again—or even think it—I’m going to take you across my lap.”
“You can hear my thoughts?” She shifted closer and pulled her hand free of his. “What am I thinking right now?” She clutched his shirt before sliding her fingers downward.
Heading nowhere good.
“You’re thinking you want trouble. Guess what? You found it. But I’m not going to be your convenient fuck.”
She angled her head and wet her lips again. “I don’t think I can fuck. I don’t even feel connected to my body anymore.”
“Goddamn drugs,” he spat out.
“No. Before. It was before.”
He didn’t know what to land on first. That she’d basically just admitted she took something, or that she’d been out of sorts before taking whatever it was. Since the night of the show? Or before then?
She was an addict, genius. Odds are she wasn’t thrilled with her life.
“Dance with me,” she pleaded. “Let me see if I can still feel something else.” She rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her forehead to his chin. “It hurts. It all hurts so much.”
His inclination was to demand what she’d taken so he could figure out if she could sleep it off or if he needed to take her to get her stomach pumped. It sure as hell wasn’t to dance to shitty music that was making his head throb. Unless what was really causing it was her tumbled dark hair, so rich and fragrant against his mouth. Her curvy body pressed against his, as close as she could get with her sling.
He wanted to hold her. Just once, he wanted her in his arms.
She had her addictions, and he had his. His were no less dangerous, because there was no treatment plan. No hope of ever seeing the other side.
He’d tried everything. Other women. Music. Drinking on the nights he’d indulged. Just ignoring her to the point that it was almost pathetically obvious he had a problem. Denver knew, he was almost sure. She’d given him looks and made a few snide comments here and there.
And Michael. Michael absolutely knew, but he wouldn’t voice it aloud. His brother wasn’t one to rub salt in a wound. He was also no dummy.
The only time Mal had a chance with Ricki was when she was high. When she was sober, she wouldn’t give him the time of day. She was such a good person. Sensitive down to her fucking core, which was why people took advantage of her. Men in particular. He was an asshole. Didn’t care about anyone but himself.
And her. God, he fucking cared about her, and he didn’t know how to stop.
It was as if Lila had flipped a switch inside him the day she’d sent him to that stupid party to find Ricki. His mission in life was to keep her safe, and he’d failed. He’d saved her physically the night of the show, but he hadn’t been able to put the rest of her back together. He couldn’t make up for every other hurt she faced.
At least not when he wouldn’t even acknowledge his own reality. She fucking mattered to him in a way he couldn’t keep denying. She was driving him mad, slowly and completely.
So he took her hand and led her into the center of writhing bodies and too loud laughter and the people who’d probably given her the crap flowing through her bloodstream. He couldn’t think of any of that right now. He tugged her hard against him, watching as her eyes flared with surprise and something more. They were lined up from thighs to chest, and she cleaved herself against him in a way he’d never forget. Her nails dug into his upper arm, and her lips parted on a sigh or a moan.
Maybe even his name.
It didn’t count now. She wasn’t herself. But he’d take the hit however he could get it, because he was no better than she was.
Only difference was she’d been clean once. And he never would be.
Chapter Seven
She woke on the verge of orgasm in an unfamiliar bed.
Panic came first. It was so dark, and the bed felt different than hers at home or on the bus. Or Teag’s. This mattress was like a high-end board, and the one stingy pillow smelled of…
Him.
Her clit was throbbing and she was wet, so wet. But the pressure between her thighs couldn’t compare with the fire blazing through her shoulder to her neck. She let out a moan, trying to make it stop. To kill the aches, both of them. She shouldn’t have been
able to feel the pulse between her legs when she was in so much pain, but both sensations were overwhelming.
Then the door opened, a light spilling in from behind him and outlining his broad shoulders. He didn’t have a shirt on. Or pants, now that her eyes were adjusting. He’d wrapped a loincloth around his hips—
Okay, no, that was a towel. His skin was wet.
Just like she was.
“What is it?” he snapped.
“What happened? Where am I?” She tried to sit up and the world tilted precariously. “Did I drink?”
“Not all you did.” His big hand slapped on the wall and overhead lights came on, their brightness assaulting her. She threw up her other arm to shield her eyes and realized she’d pulled a pillow between her legs as she slept.
Dear God, had she been humping a pillow on Mal’s bed? How would she ever live down the horror?
She dropped her arm and stared at him, aghast. Unless there were worse horrors.
So much worse.
“Did you—did we—is that why I’m so…”
“We didn’t do a damn thing except dance. So if you got yourself all worked up,” his pointed gaze dropped to the pillow she’d tried to nudge discreetly away, “don’t blame me.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did we dance? Why am I here?” She kicked aside the stupid pillow and rubbed her forehead. A headache was brewing, and she was dizzy. Her stomach couldn’t decide if she was hungry or queasy.
Plus, she was still so horny, and the only man around had a cock the length of a goddamn alligator and almost as wide. And that was its shape through the towel, no less.
She’d rubbed up against it on the dance floor. Shamelessly, like a cat in heat. His idea of dancing with her had mostly involved letting her gyrate up on him while he appeared stony-faced and unaffected.
Minus the erection. There was no unaffected there.
“We danced because you asked. You’re here because you’re staying with me now.”
“Oh, no, I am not.” She didn’t know why he’d come up with such a preposterous idea, but it still was enough to propel her up into a sitting position. “I’m calling—”
Who? Teagan? What time was it? Where was Teag anyway?
Mal waited, cocking his brow. His alligator twitching its tail.
“I drank,” she said slowly, trying to put the pieces together. They were all so fuzzy and indistinct. “I came to see you play even though you hate me.”
“Never said I hated you. Seems rather stupid to invite you if I hated you.” He scratched his chin and the rasp of the short hairs there against his palm caught her attention. “And to dump you in my bed.”
She’d smelled him in her sleep. Leather and the light tang of sweat and some soap that a mountain man would use to scrub his pits in a cold water stream. Even now, her nipples were on high alert every time she sucked in a breath.
“You’ve got a nasty habit of doing that,” she muttered, grabbing the pillow she’d kicked aside to use it to hide her chest. He’d see. He’d know, and he’d use it against her later.
She wasn’t even sure she’d blame him.
“Dumping you in my bed? Nope. Gotta say this is the first time.” He leaned on the sleigh-style footboard, the muscles in his shoulders shifting and bunching. “Can do it again though if it gets you off.”
She pressed her thighs together. “I definitely didn’t get off.”
“Yet you think I fucked you until you passed out. You think even less of me than I realized.”
“I didn’t think that. Exactly. I don’t know what to think. I should be at Teag’s.”
“That’s the last place you should be.”
“Why?” she demanded.
He didn’t answer.
“Look, obviously, I can’t remember, and that seems to happen a lot around you. I mean, I have pieces of it, but there’s chunks missing—”
“Stand up.”
She blinked at him. “What?”
“You heard me. Stand up.”
She didn’t know why she listened to him. As a rule, she never did. But she pushed the pillow off her lap and awkwardly stood, reaching out to grab the footboard when she wavered.
“Now empty your pockets. All of them.”
“Excuse me?”
When she didn’t make a move to comply, he stepped forward, dwarfing her with his stupidly enormous size for an instant before he gripped her ass in both hands. She gasped, shocked by the pleasure that speared between her thighs. She rubbed against his hard cock like a damn kitten, helpless against the clenching in her core. But he wasn’t trying to feel her up. His big hands were in her pockets, and when he didn’t find what he wanted in back, he moved to the front, the jab of his fingers skating far too close to her clit.
And she wasn’t at all sure it wasn’t intentional.
He came back out with a baggie of tiny colorful pills. She swallowed, confused. They didn’t look like the pain pills the hospital had prescribed her, and she’d never dug into the bottle anyway. “What is that?”
“You tell me.” He held up the bag closer to the lights. “Little e on them. Hmm, lemme guess what these are. Ecstasy? No wonder you’re a horny little thing. Still riding that high.”
Shame made sweat pop out on her bra and between her breasts. She stared over his shoulder, sure he had to be wrong. She hadn’t slipped. Okay, yes, she had with the alcohol. She’d drank far too much. But E? She’d never taken that even back when she was using.
Maybe someone at the club had stashed them in her pocket while she was dancing. Had to make a quick dump and run maybe because of the cops.
Or…
“You could’ve planted them on me while I slept. How do I know? It’s not like I can trust you.”
Something flashed over his face and his lips curled into what passed for a smile. But it wasn’t one, not even close. “You’re right. You can’t trust me. Next?”
She searched around for her purse. Her phone. Hell, even her shoes. “I’m leaving.”
“You definitely aren’t.”
“Oh yeah? Try to stop me.” She moved to push past him to the door and he gripped hold of her good arm, pulling her back against him with just enough force to be on this side of pain. She cried out, but he didn’t let her go.
“You walk out this door, and I’m calling your brother. You know what I’m going to tell him?” He spoke against her ear, ruffling her hair with his warm breath. “I’m going to tell him I watched you get drunk off your fucking ass and that you came backstage fucking high with goddamn Ecstasy in your pocket. Wanna know how fast he’ll be on a plane here? Can you guess?”
Tears blinded her. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Test me.”
She let out a sob.
“And what about those cute little nieces of yours? I know how much you dote on them. Pretty sure Nick and Lila won’t be letting their druggie aunt come visit.”
Pain slashed through her, dark and deep, and this time it didn’t have a damn thing to do with coming down off a high or her injuries. She couldn’t lose Charlie and Avery. Those little girls meant everything to her.
But he was right. So right. If Nicky got even the slightest whiff of what had happened tonight, he’d shut down on her and take away access to the girls. No way in hell would he risk her poison tainting them, not after what she and Nicky had endured with their father.
And worst of all? He would be right.
“My next call will be to Lila and Donovan. Who will then consult that handy little morality clause in your contract and drop your ass so fast that you won’t even have time to say ex-member of Warning Sign.”
The tears were running thick and fast now, smearing all over her face. “It was just one little mistake.”
“Uh huh.”
“Everyone slips up. I was hurt—”
“You were. Should I pour you some hot milk and get you a cookie? Is that the going rate for flesh wounds now?�
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“You fucking bastard. I always hated you.”
“Well, then, don’t stop on my account.” He adjusted his hold on her arm and the pressure eased even if his hold did not. “The choice is yours. Cry and pout and run to Teagan’s and I make those calls. Or stay here and dry the fuck out where I can monitor who you’re hanging out with and what the fuck you’re doing.”
“It was one slip-up. Just one.” She shook her head and the tears dripped off her chin, soaking the front of her tank top.
“You drank. You took some stranger’s goddamn pills, and you don’t even know what was in them.” Rage roared through Mal’s voice as he spoke against the back of her neck, branding her skin with his anger. And his disappointment. That came through loud and clear. “I almost took you to the fucking ER to get your stomach pumped, you little idiot.”
Humiliation drenched her and she lowered her head until her heavy hair fell across her face, hiding it. “Please don’t tell Nicky. He’s all I have. The only one who loves me, and he w-won’t. He won’t anymore.”
“Don’t make me tell him, and I won’t.”
“Why do you even care? I’m nothing to you. Less than nothing.”
Without warning, he turned her around so abruptly that she fell against him. Pain sang through her injured arm, but it was nothing compared to his dark, mad eyes. And beneath the stark fury, something she never expected to see.
Pure fear.
“I care,” he gritted out, letting go of her so that she sagged against the footboard. Then he walked out the bedroom door and shut it behind him.
Chapter Eight
Elle stayed up for the rest of the waning hours of the night, alternating between singing along to metal music set on scream to get out some of her aggression and dancing around the room to burn off some energy. When she lost interest in doing that, she dug her worn mini notebook out of her tiny clubbing purse and was about to scribble some random, disjointed lyrics that kept replaying in her head.
Then she remembered, duh, right-handed. She tried to write a little, and managed it, but the second her nerves started to dance with irritation, she tossed aside the notebook and stubby pencil.
