Rocked in Pieces (Rocked #11)

by Clara Bayard

  He cocked his head to the side and sighed. "I know, but I've got to take care of you."

  "You have been. And I appreciate it." Insecurity flooded me. Was I just a charity case now, a wounded bird for him to care for?

  Matthew lay down next to me and turned my head to face him. "Don't look so sad."

  "I'm not. I'm happy. I mean, you're such a sweet guy and I really do appreciate everything you've done for me. Don't think me ungrateful."

  He grunted. "I don't. But I don't want your gratitude, either. Believe me when I say I'm not doing this only out of the goodness of my heart."

  "Yes, you are."

  "No." He leaned down and kissed my neck, sending tingles through my entire body. "I told you before. I have to make sure you get better so I can have my wicked way with you."

  I laughed bleakly, knowing he was just trying to make me feel better. "Yeah, so you said. But it's okay. I get it. Weak isn't sexy. I understand."

  "Bullshit," he spat ferociously. He loomed over me and held my chin in his hand. "First of all, you're not weak. You're hurt. There's a difference. And second, if you were any sexier I'd probably explode right here."

  His words warmed me, but doubt still remained.

  As if he could see it in my eyes, Matthew groaned. "Damn it. What do I have to do to convince you?"

  I shrugged and began to sit up, pushing him away, shutting down. "Nothing."

  "Shit, you're maddening sometimes."

  "So I've been told."

  He groaned and grabbed my shoulders in both hands. "I only have so much self-control, you know."

  "I don't want your self-control," I replied glumly.

  "What do you want, to end up back in the hospital?"

  "Of course not. I want…, never mind."

  "Tell me."

  "I want to feel normal again. I want to feel like a real person, not some pitiful charity case. I want you to look at me like you did before. I want… I want you." A single tear slipped from my eye.

  "And I want you, but…"

  "See, there's always that ‘but'. I don't blame you, but I just thought it was different between us. Hoped it was."

  He sighed, looking deep into my eyes for a long moment. "There's nothing I can say to make you believe me, is there?"

  "I guess not." I knew I was over-reacting, over-sharing, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. Every all-too brief moment of raw desire we'd shared flashed through my mind, and I mourned their loss. I blinked back new tears, feeling more pathetic by the minute.

  "Stop it," Matthew said, his voice strained. "Please don't cry. I can't stand to see you in pain. Any kind of pain. And I hate being the cause of it."

  "You're not the cause. I just got lost for a bit. Let myself think… it doesn't matter."

  "It does matter. Everything you think and feel matters to me." He pulled me closer, burying his face in my neck. "Fuck, I give up."

  "It's all right. I understand." I bit my lip to keep from sobbing.

  Voice rough, he spoke against my skin. "You really don't. You're driving me crazy and I don't even care." His arms encircled me. "I'm so angry with you and worried about you but all I can think about is how your hair smells, how soft your skin is. I'm trying to be a nice guy here but goddamn. How can you being so infuriating just turn me on more?"

  "What?" His words barely penetrated the haze of misery I was floating in.

  Matthew slid his hand up under my shirt, splaying his fingers over my belly. "I never know what your mood is going to be from one minute to the next. And it just doesn't even mean anything. The more you baffle me the more I want you." He looked at me, his expression unreadable. "Okay, how about we compromise?"

  "How?"

  "You promise to stop telling me how I do and do not feel, and I'll stop trying to tell you."

  "Okay," I said, confused.

  "Good." His fingers slid lower, to the waistband of my pants.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Showing, not telling. Talking isn't really my thing anyway." He smiled and bent his head down to my chest.

  I was about to ask what he meant when he made it abundantly clear. His hand slid over my panties as my legs parted reflexively. His mouth descended to my breast and sucked gently, making my nipples pebble and my whole body clench.

  A tiny gasp was the only reply I could manage.

  Matthew's nimble fingers rubbed and circled and teased me through the thin layer of cotton that covered my core, playing my body like I was his guitar, pushing all of my doubts and fears out of my mind.

  He shoved my shirt up and swept his tongue over my breasts, coordinating the movements of his mouth and finger perfectly, torturing me sweetly. His breath hot against my skin, he pressed his body against mine and I could feel how hard he was.

  My hands fisted against the sheets and my toes curled as his finger slipped beneath my panties, against my bare skin. His touch was hot and cool at the same time and shut my eyes.

  He groaned as the tip of his finger slipped between my slick folds, finding the moisture pooling there. "You're incredible. I have to taste you. Is that okay?"

  I whimpered, nodding.

  "Good." He sat up long enough to help me undress. There was something really sexy about him being fully clothed while every inch of me was bared to him. The contrast of the cool air in the room and the heat of Matthew's body as he settled between my thighs just aroused me more, if that was even possible.

  Before I could feel embarrassed or uncertain, his hand covered my mound and his mouth found my core. Gently, but insistently he explored me, licking, nibbling, rubbing. As I began to writhe beneath him, he slid one finger deep inside me, and then it followed with another.

  I moaned something unintelligible and twisted my fingers in his hair.

  He sucked on my clit and began to slide his fingers in and out of me, slowly, deeply. Matthew raised his head just long enough to look into my eyes and whisper, "Come for me."

  I gasped again and my back arched as heat spread out from my center, filling my whole body up. I let myself go, forgetting everything but the way he made me feel, the brilliant way he drove me higher and higher into ecstasy, as if he'd known my body forever.

  As I reached the peak, it seemed like I was stuck there, breathless and so close, but unable to fall. Every bit of me was coiled tightly, frozen in the moment. And then, careful to keep his fingers exactly in place, he shifted and rose up to kiss me on the mouth. His tongue dove between my lips and danced with mine. The powerful intensity of the kiss freed me and I flew apart, rocketing into space with Matthew as the tether to keep me from disappearing forever.

  Minutes or hours or days later I became aware of the world around me again. Matthew was holding me, softly stroking my hair.

  "Wow," I said hoarsely.

  "Do you understand what I was trying to tell you now?"

  I grinned and snuggled in closer. "Yeah, I think so. But I'm pretty forgetful, you might have to remind me again."

  "Count on it. As many times as you need."

  "I think I could be forgetting again already," I said, only half-serious. I was so relaxed I could have stayed there just like that forever. "Besides, I feel selfish. I had all the fun and you did all the work."

  Matthew shook his head. "Oh, no. If you'd seen what I just got to watch, you'd know, it was absolutely my pleasure as well."

  I sighed. "You really are perfect, you know that, don't you?"

  "I do," he replied solemnly before grinning. "So are you." He ran a hand over the swell of my belly. "Or maybe we're just perfect for each other."

  Before I could respond there was a knock on the door.

  Matthew sat up. "Food's here. I'll get it."

  "Good, I'm too naked to answer the door. And I'm not sure my legs work yet anyway."

  He flashed a cocky smile and climbed out of the bed after planting a kiss on my bare shoulder.

  We spent the rest of the evening in bed, nibbling on tiny amounts of the ridiculous,
but delicious spread he'd ordered, and talking about everything and nothing. I fell asleep in his arms, feeling like we'd been together forever.

  Four

  When I woke the next morning I was alone in bed and sad about it. But that feeling only lasted a second because before I even sat up, the bathroom door opened and Matthew walked out. He was only wearing jeans and his skin was damp all over. There was a towel draped over his head, covering his face. He rubbed at it roughly with one hand, drying his hair. His other hand was pressed flat against his abs. I took the moment to stare at him. Lines of lean muscle flexed as his arms moved and I marveled at the strength and beauty of his body.

  Desire coiled within me at the memory of his hands and mouth. It seemed like a dream that a man this sweet and sexy could be there with me, wanting me, caring for me. He was entirely too good to be true, but too honest to be anything else.

  When he was done drying his hair he dropped the towel onto a chair and noticed me watching. A wide smile spread across his handsome face and I resolving to stop thinking so much and just enjoy this miracle as long as it lasted. For once the universe was giving me something wonderful in between bouts of shit, and I was sure as hell going to let myself enjoy it.

  "Good morning," Matthew said, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed. He gave me a quick peck on the lips.

  "It sure is." I wrapped my arms around him and ran my hands down his bare back. "Great morning."

  "How's your head?"

  "Full of happy memories."

  He grinned and kissed me again. "Mine, too. Well, happy memories and future plans."

  "What kind of future plans?"

  "Dirty plans. I'm talking really filthy."

  I blushed and grinned. "Tell me more."

  He ran a hand down my arm. "Oh I will, but it's going to have to wait a bit."

  I frowned. "Why?"

  "I've got to run back to my room, get dressed and packed before soundcheck and tonight's show. And judging from the way your phone was blowing up, I think you've got work to do as well."

  "Oh yeah. Talk about a good news and bad news situation."

  He chuckled, kissed my shoulder and stood up. "Meet me downstairs for coffee?"

  "Sure."

  "Okay." He leaned over and kissed me again, this time longer, deeper. "Damn, I hate to go."

  "Hurry before I don't let you."

  It took another ten minutes to actually get him out the door, and when he was gone I laid back and stretched. My phone vibrated on the table next to me and I groaned before grabbing it.

  "Hello?"

  "Ellie, finally," Becca said over the line. "I've been calling. You okay?"

  "Yeah, sorry. My phone was on silent."

  "That's okay, I know you needed to rest."

  "Thanks."

  "Of course. Look, tell me if you're not up to it, but I'd like to get you on the line for a conference call with the management team in an hour or so, before I head over to the venue."

  "Oh yeah, no problem. I just need to grab a shower and get dressed."

  "Cool. Head down to the conference center when you're ready. I have a few other calls to make first, so there's no rush. Oh, and tell Matthew to check his email."

  I sat up, startled. "Huh? Oh, sure… if I see him. Which I don't think I will. I mean, I don't even know where he is. Or care. It's… I don't… Okay. Yeah, if I happen to run into him."

  Smooth Ellie, super smooth.

  Becca laughed loudly. "Do you two think I'm that dumb? You were practically making heart eyes at each other yesterday."

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, grimacing.

  "Relax, I'm not going to tell anyone. Besides, it's not like I'm one to talk."

  "I…"

  "Okay, okay. Forget it. Pretend I didn't say a word. See you in a bit." She hung up before I could embarrass myself any more.

  I got out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom, hoping a shower would clear my head and calm my nerves. As happy as I was to be able to keep my job, now I actually had to do it. Face the other members of the band and figure out how to do this without my brother. And how to keep from jumping Matthew's bones in public.

  Without resolving anything, I got dressed and headed downstairs to meet Matthew. I sent him a text when I got in the elevator and again when I didn't find him in the coffee shop. After a few minutes I ordered something and sat down alone, wondering what had happened.

  While I waited, I checked my emails and read through some of the Dream Defiled news references I'd missed. There were plenty. Some speculation about the hospital, but nothing definitive since no one talked. There were a bunch of great reviews of the first show and excitement about the rest of the tour, as well as more speculation about Joe's engagement. I made a few notes about things to ask the guys about assuming they'd ever talk to me on camera again, and checked the time. I had to meet Becca soon and I'd still not seen Matthew.

  I was about to call him when Rick stomped into the coffee shop and pointed at me, glaring. He came over, face so dark and angry I almost flinched.

  "Hi?"

  He grunted, sitting down across from me and crossing his arms. Close up his intensity was overwhelming and I wondered what about him Julia found so attractive and Matthew found anything but unpleasant.

  "Do you want something?" I asked, annoyed that my voice sounded so scared.

  "I want to be anywhere but here talking to you."

  "Um, thanks." What a charmer.

  "Shut up." He growled and ran his hands over the stubble on his chin. "Look, I gotta say this and don't interrupt."

  "Okay…"

  He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "I also know I was wrong about you and that dude. That was my bad. Since you're sticking around you should know that."

  My mouth opened and closed again. I was too shocked to speak. Was Rick Gregory apologizing to me? It sounded like it, but from what I knew of him, that seemed impossible.

  "And I'm not going to fight you staying. Watch yourself and don't fuck it up."

  I crossed my legs and barked out a laugh. "Thanks for the pep talk, coach."

  He glowered at me. "Listen, I don't like it. And I don't really like you. But my boy says you're good and I trust him. Not you. I'll never trust you."

  I bit back an angry reply. He was a member of the band and Matthew's best friend. Both of those meant I'd be better off trying to get along with him, regardless of how difficult he made it. "Fair enough," is all I actually said.

  "Damn fucking right." He stood up and turned to go, and then stopped, as if he remembered something. He leaned down and pointed a finger at me. "If you fuck with my boy, I'll do a lot more than just make sure you're fired." He nodded sharply, job done, and left me alone again.

  I sat there, finishing my coffee and shaking my head, replaying the conversation over and over again. I had to respect how protective he was over Matthew. And in spite of myself, I kind of liked him for it. "This is a weird ass day," I muttered.

  "Is this a private conversation or can anyone join in," a familiar voice said from behind me.

  I turned around, a smile spreading across my face. "Matthew, where've you been?"

  He put a hand on my shoulder. "Sorry, a couple of things came up, I just got away. Didn't even have a second to call you. Forgive me?"

  I stood up, ridiculously happy to see him considering we hadn't even been apart for an hour. "Of course I forgive you." My hands itched to touch him, but I knew it wasn't a good idea. The coffee shop was only half full, but the last thing I needed was someone Instagramming a shot of me kissing a member of Dream Defiled.

  Matthew glanced around too, and nodded. He picked up what was left of my coffee and said, "Follow me."

  We walked out the back door and down a hallway and then into one of the hotel bars, currently closed and empty.

  Matthew set my coffee down on a cocktail table and grabbed me. He kissed me hard and deep, holding me tight against him. He smelled and felt am
azing and I let myself get lost in the moment.

  When we both pulled back, breathless, he slid a finger over my cheek. "This is stupid, but I missed you."

  I giggled. "It is, and I missed you, too."

  He kissed me again and I briefly wondered how private this place was when my phone beeped in my pocket.

  "Shit," I said. "That's my alarm. I've got to go meet Becca."

  He sighed against my ear. "Damn it. Will I see you before soundcheck?"

  "Don't know." I squeezed him a little. "I hope so."

  "Yeah." He kissed me once more and then pushed me away. "Get out of here before I throw you down on the floor right here."

  "How romantic," I drawled. "You could have at least offered to bend me over the table."

  He groaned. "Thanks for leaving me with that mental picture."

  Feeling saucy, I winked at him. "Something to think about while we're apart." I walked out without looking back. In theory it was to make my point, but in reality it was to keep from actually letting him take me on the floor, the table, wherever the hell he wanted.

  *

  It took a few minutes to make my way from the deserted bar up to the conference room Becca had taken over as her "war room" at the hotel. I knocked on the open in and she was on the phone, but gestured for me to come in.

  I sat down in a rolling chair and looked around. The place was insane. She'd tacked a huge map to the whiteboard and it was covered with sticky notes in various colors with codes that didn't make any sense to me. On the table in front of me there was a pile of papers, some kind of spreadsheet that looked like more gibberish. But after a few minutes of staring I realized it was a travel schedule, tracking the whole tour. The codes matched the ones on the map and I had to admit I was impressed. They were keeping track of everyone and everything. Equipment, set pieces, tour buses and planes, instruments, costumes, and people. Not just the members of Dream Defiled and their entourage, but crewmembers, and the other people on the tour. I found myself engrossed in the details, down to the minute scheduling and contingencies for everything.

  Most of the time I'd spent with the band was relatively private, away from the small army that was crisscrossing the country with them, the massive machine that made everything run as smoothly as possible. And doing her best to keep it all going was Becca. Stepping in after the death of the band's longtime manager was a huge job. Of course, she wasn't technically in charge like Ryan had been, but she was the one on the road, the one the guys trusted. The pressure had to be crushing, and she never seemed fazed by it.