Shayla Black - [Wicked Lovers 02]

by Decadent

  “I think you know what I mean,” she whispered, forcing her thoughts away from the iron-hearted bodyguard. “You’ve . . . changed.”

  “You have, too. You’re more confident and mature and sexy as hell.” He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her mouth. “When I’m with you, I feel clearer, more centered. I guess it’s taking me a while to adjust to not partying all the time.”

  Maybe that was true. Who knew? In some ways, Kimber felt like she was talking to a stranger.

  “I’m not here to change your life.”

  “I need to change my life, and I know you’re the key. I think back to that summer I spent with you and your dad all the time and remember stuff we talked about, things we did. We found plenty of good, clean ways to have fun.” He paused, a glint making his dark eyes sparkle. “Hey, you know what I have on DVD?”

  Mischief lurked in that smile. And a hint of happiness. A real smile. The first she’d seen in a week.

  Kimber relaxed and returned his grin. “American Pie ?”

  “Yep. We’ve got a few hours before we have to be at the arena. Wanna?”

  Watch the movie that had made them laugh so hard they’d cried together that summer? “Sure.”

  “Hang on.”

  He clambered over the back of the sofa and grabbed the phone. In seconds, he was demanding popcorn from room service. By the time he found the DVD, figured out how to work the equipment connected to the suite’s plasma TV, and had the menu on the screen, the popcorn had arrived.

  For over an hour, they laughed at the antics of four high school boys all trying to lose their virginity by prom night.

  “Watch this,” Jesse demanded, tossing popcorn in the air and trying to catch it with his open mouth.

  He missed. The piece hit him on the cheek, and Kimber laughed. “Smooth.”

  “Okay, so I’m out of practice. And it works better with M&M’s.”

  She mock-punched him in the shoulder. “Excuses, excuses.”

  “Let’s see you do better.”

  Arching a brow, she plucked up a piece of the fluffy popcorn and tossed it. A perfect landing on her tongue. She tossed him a smug smile.

  “Show-off,” he grumbled, but tossed an arm around her shoulders as they settled in for the rest of the movie.

  And it was comfortable. Friendly.

  When it was over, he turned the TV and DVD player off, wearing a huge smile. “That movie always reminds me of the summer we spent together. I don’t think I’ve ever had a better time. No pressure. No groupies. No parties. Just . . . fun.”

  “I enjoyed that summer, too.”

  The air had been ripe with the hope of first love. They’d been innocent enough—nothing beyond kisses—but every one of those had seemed so hot and forbidden. And so sweet. The fact he’d bought the very DVD that reminded him of her and carried it with him touched her. Watching it together again had been a blast.

  But had watching it helped Jesse to tune in to the emotional connection they’d once shared or just remind him of a happier past? Was he actually interested in her, or was she like the DVD, just another reminder of a better time?

  And why was she staying here, giving Jesse false hope, when Deke was so obviously dominating her heart? When she ached with missing quiet times with Luc?

  Someone knocked on the suite’s door. Without waiting for an answer, he shoved in the key, and strolled into the room. Ryan.

  He sent them both a long-suffering grimace. “Dang, all clothed again. You two are dull.”

  Oh, the man miffed Kimber. Annoying, grating, he’d say whatever was on his mind and clearly didn’t care a lick if it offended anyone.

  “We were watching a movie.” Kimber did her best to sound civil.

  “I’d rather you get busy and make a movie I’d wanna watch.” He leered.

  Okay, that made him zoom to the top of her ick chart.

  Her annoyance must have shown, since Jesse leveled him a hard warning stare. “Despite how much you like home movies, we won’t be making any. What do you want?”

  “Showtime is in an hour, kids. I’m just your reminder.”

  Jesse glanced at his watch, then sighed. “Back to reality.” He sent a longing look at the minibar. “Drink before the show?”

  Drinking before work? “No, and it’s just my opinion, but I don’t think you should either.”

  “It loosens me up.” His tone was pure defense.

  “Your choice, but I’ll bet it makes you less sharp.”

  Ryan strolled to the minibar and withdrew an armful of the little bottles. “Looks like the old lady still has you on the wagon. You really ought to fuck her and loosen her up. I’ll be happy to help.”

  Before Kimber could flay the man alive with her tongue or Jesse could retort, Ryan left the room. Bastard.

  “Sorry,” Jesse muttered.

  “You miss your old life,” she said, realizing it was the truth.

  “I need to stop living like that. I can’t keep waking up every morning hungover next to Ryan and a woman whose name I don’t know. I need you to help me.”

  His dark eyes pleaded, filled with hope and shame and anger.

  More alarm bells went off in her head, even as she felt . . . sorry for him. He wanted her to help him save himself. He didn’t actually want her. And she couldn’t rescue someone who wasn’t willing to rescue himself.

  God, she was so confused. Jesse had been everything to her—or she thought he had been—until Deke and Luc. Until she’d lost her heart. She’d pinned hopes and dreams on Jesse. Now . . . it was clear she just didn’t fit here.

  “Please help me.” He grabbed her hands and pulled her closer.

  Kimber smelled his fresh citrus-scented soap and clean skin as he grabbed her suddenly and layered his mouth over hers. Soft. Like the strokes of a paintbrush or the touch of a butterfly’s wings. Sweet, like he’d lightly dusted the kiss with sugar. But when he urged her mouth open and slid inside, she tasted the acrid desperation on his tongue and recoiled.

  Instead of letting her go, Jesse pulled her closer. His fingers drifted into her hair, fisted around the long strands as he deepened the kiss. Kimber discreetly pushed at him. He resisted, plunging deeper inside. He was . . . taking something from her and begging for more. There was no giving on his part. He thought she had something he needed.

  She didn’t. Nor did she want him. The kiss didn’t make her melt or burn or need. Her heart . . . it wasn’t here. He was a friend, but nothing more. And after the show, she’d tell him that.

  Quickly, she broke off the kiss. He pulled away with a sigh of regret.

  “I’d better get dressed.” His voice cracked. “You, too. Wear something special.”

  With another flash of a smile, part excitement, part anxiety, he walked past her, down the hall, and shut the door behind him.

  What the hell was that man up to?

  THE roar of the stadium and the decibel level of the music gave Kimber a headache. For over two hours, she’d been sitting backstage, first watching the opening act and trying to ignore the bimbo groupies fawning over Jesse. Now, she watched Jesse and his band winding their show to a close, playing their eclectic mixture of alternative anger and soulful emotion, with a hint of something classical. And he was the perfect singer, with expressive eyes, not just believing every word he sang, but feeling them— whether that was a song about getting down and dirty or embracing eternal love.

  Funny, but she was more moved by listening to Jesse than kissing him. She hated to admit why, didn’t want to consider the reasons her body had begun to ache desperately. Or why she had dreams—amazing, erotic dreams—all revolving around Deke and Luc.

  Kimber missed them both, wished she could throw her arms around Deke and heal him. If she was really honest, she wished she could make him see her as something other than just a virgin, but a woman he could laugh with, smile with, live with . . . The yearning to tell him that she loved him beat strong. Every bit as strong as her need to hear hi
m say he loved her, too.

  It isn’t going to happen.

  Kimber accepted the reality with a sigh. Her future, the one she’d mapped out, was gone.

  Sighing, she watched absently as Jesse threw his sweat towel into the cheering crowd of mostly young girls. Several were topless, their breasts bobbing as they danced under the artificial blue light. He smiled and saluted them.

  God, she didn’t fit in here. She was going to have to tell him. And leave.

  “Kimber.”

  Her name. Someone was calling her name. Loudly. She blinked. Jesse was looking right at her, motioning her toward him.

  He wanted her to come on stage? In front of everyone?

  Animated now, even a little adamant, Jesse waved her toward him once more.

  What the hell? With a shrug, she got off her stool and started out onto the stage. Flashbulbs went off. The crowd quieted.

  Microphone in hand, Jesse smiled and said, “It’s great to be back in Houston, my hometown!” The crowd cheered as he curled an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, planting a kiss on her temple.

  Mind racing, Kimber looked out at the crowd, nearly wobbling on her heels. Even though the bright stage lights blinded her from seeing the audience, she’d seen the vast size, the thousands out there, just before Jesse had taken the stage. Why had he pulled her out here in front of all these people? She couldn’t sing.

  “It’s the perfect place,” Jesse murmured to the crowd, the tone like a whisper he told just one secret friend, “to announce that my longtime girlfriend, Kimber, and I are getting married.”

  Chapter Ten

  DEKE unrolled the morning paper on the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in hand.

  “Any news?” Luc asked tightly.

  Those were the first civil words his cousin had spoken in over a week.

  Standing as he sifted through the newspaper, Deke set the front page aside and rifled to find the other sections he enjoyed, so he could throw out the rest. So he could focus on something other than Kimber’s absence eating away at his sanity. Not that he was having any luck.

  Especially not when the headline on the Entertainment page screamed out at him.

  Jesse McCall Engaged!

  Beneath it was a black-and-white picture of Kimber next to McCall, his arm around her, along with a caption that stated Jesse had informed the crowd at last night’s concert that he and longtime girlfriend Kimber Edgington were engaged to be married.

  Son of a fucking bitch!

  The coffee slipped from Deke’s numb fingers and crashed to the kitchen floor.

  Luc spun around. “What the hell is the matter with you? Clean the damn coffee—”

  “I don’t give a shit about the fucking coffee.” He thrust the paper in Luc’s direction.

  After a quick scan, Luc sank into a chair at the kitchen table and swore. “Damn it. Shit! You let her go. Hell, you pushed her out the door.”

  Luc threw the paper back onto the table with a glare in his direction. Deke found his gaze glued to the picture of McCall with Kimber. The wondering was killing him. Had she slept with the pretty-boy singer? Most likely. And just as likely, McCall had shared her with someone, watched some stranger fuck her to orgasm.

  What hurt even more was wondering if she actually loved Jesse. But Deke knew Kimber. She had to believe she was in love with the bastard pop star to agree to marry him.

  At the thought, his knees melted underneath him and he stumbled into a chair. Kimber married to someone else. In love with someone else.

  Hell no!

  But that was reality, and it shredded his guts like a thousand dull razors. McCall had proposed, and she’d said yes. Jesse was happy, if his smile in the picture was anything to go by. Kimber’s picture was in profile, but she had to be happy. This was the realization of her little white lace, virgin-girl dream.

  While he . . . Hell, he’d been a fucking pissed-off wreck ever since she’d left, wrenching his heart out with her tears.

  “She wasn’t ours,” he managed to croak out. “This just proves it.”

  “Kimber might have stayed if you’d been decent to her. She offered you her—”

  “I wasn’t taking her virginity. It didn’t belong to me, just like she didn’t!”

  The fact that the girl and her virginity belonged to the smiling crooner in the picture didn’t exactly thrill him. Correction: it made him want to tear McCall apart slowly, with his bare hands, and inflict maximum pain.

  Lord knew the army had trained him to do it.

  Luc pointed an accusing finger in his face. “You made her believe she didn’t belong with us. If you had admitted your feelings and just made love to the girl—”

  “Yeah, then what? How long before she wound up like Heather?”

  “She’s not Heather,” Luc insisted. “Kimber is stronger and she would have survived. I think she loved you.”

  Bittersweet. That possibility made joy burst through his chest, even as fear gripped his belly and yanked hard. Damn, he was one fucked-up bastard. He wanted her, but couldn’t have her. If she’d stayed, it was only a matter of time before he would have taken her virginity. Too many risks. Too much at stake. He’d made the right choice.

  It just hurt like hell.

  “And then what?” Deke barked back. “Would she have married one of us? Why the fuck do you persist in this stupid fantasy?” Deke grilled his cousin. “And what about . . . later? I know you want her to have our babies so we could all live happily ever after. And you know how I feel about that. Besides, no woman wants to lie between two men every night and wonder which is the father of her children. We can leave petty jealousy out of a simple screw, but out of a committed relationship? Luc, it’s a goddamn fantasy.”

  “It’s no more fantasy than imagining you can fuck your way through the rest of your life with a bunch of nameless whores and not care about anyone. I want more.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “With Kimber, I know you wanted more.”

  Shit, Luc knew him too well.

  “She’s gone. And that’s it.”

  “You don’t think we should fight for her?” Luc looked incredulous.

  “How? She’s going to marry a superstar she’s wanted for five years. I don’t see her dropping all that just because we come knocking on her door. We need to get on with life.”

  The words seemed to knock Luc on his ass. “Get on with it, just like that?” He snapped. “Pretend she was never here and that we never cared about her?”

  “We tutored her. Period.”

  “I adore her. You do, too. In fact, I think you love her.”

  He hesitated. “I don’t.”

  “Liar. That’s why you were so vile to her. Anything that might make you vulnerable and force you to face the past has to be destroyed.”

  “Fuck off!”

  “That’s going to solve it all, right? When all else fails, yell at Luc. You know what, you’re right. Let’s get on with life.” Luc stormed across the kitchen, lifted the cordless phone, and walked out of the room.

  What the hell was Luc doing? Deke almost didn’t care, given the fury bubbling in his belly. And the pain, it seared like acid on bare skin at the thought of Kimber in McCall’s bed, in his life. But he’d get over it.

  He had to. What other choice did he have?

  Five minutes later, Luc stomped back into the kitchen wearing a smug grin. “I hope you don’t have plans today other than to get on with your life.”

  “No, it’s Sunday. What have you done?”

  “I called Alyssa Devereaux and charmed her. I convinced her to fuck us. She’s expecting us at three. Get dressed.”

  With a sharp pivot, Luc left the kitchen and marched down the hall. A moment later, clinking pipes told Deke that his dear cousin was in the shower.

  And Deke was stunned speechless.

  Holy shit. Alyssa Devereaux. Blond bombshell, strip club owner, with legs encased in sexy stockings and naughty garters that made grown men saliva
te and beg. She was going to fuck them. After enduring her cutting tongue and apparent disdain, she’d agreed. For Luc, of course. She’d always wanted him. But as a perk, he’d get to sink into that tight, golden body, too. Immerse every inch of his cock into her warm, suddenly willing pussy.

  Deke looked down, staring at his surprisingly unresponsive penis through his pajama bottoms.

  Shock. It had to be shock. Alyssa was a walking wet dream. Once he got near her, got her topless and had those luscious tits in his face, he’d be ready. More than ready.

  Right?

  FOUR hours later, Luc pulled up in front of a little white house with climbing roses and southern charm in a residential side of Lafayette, Louisiana.

  Deke frowned at his cousin. “We’re not meeting at Sexy Sirens?”

  “She said to come here.” Luc got out, refusing to say another word.

  Palms sweating, Deke followed.

  How long had he had fantasies about nailing Alyssa Devereaux? A couple of years, at least, since his business partner and friend, Jack Cole, had introduced her to him. He’d tried to entice her. The alpha routine had gotten him nowhere. His nonexistent charm got him knocked on his ass even before hello. Sparring with her got him shut down every time. Usually just the sound of her name got him hard.

  Today . . . Well, it wasn’t showtime yet. His slow response must be because he still had big, unanswered questions floating around in his brain. Like, what the hell had Luc said to get her to agree to this? And for as many times as Luc had maintained that he had no interest in Alyssa, he was suddenly really eager to be here.

  Why?

  Deke had no answers—to any of his questions—as he filed up the little brick walkway, past rows of colorful flowers blooming like crazy.

  “Gorgeous azaleas,” Luc murmured as he rang the bell.

  What the fuck is an azalea? Why were his palms sweating?

  Alyssa opened the door wearing a classic black skirt with a slit to the thigh and a lace-edged, off-the-shoulder top that showed just a hint of cleavage.

  “Hi, guys. Come inside.”

  Deke hesitated, but stepped in after Luc and glanced at the place. Soothing shades of green with splashes of yellow. Earth tones everywhere. Even one of those Zen garden waterfall things. Black-and-white photos of nature scenes. It all said peace.