“This is perfect.” She took my hand before I could reach for my drink and squeezed it. “Very thoughtful. Like so many things you have done for me. Thank you.”
“It’s hardly champagne and caviar,” I apologized.
“I’m not that kind of a girl, but I do love chocolate.”
I nodded. I knew. Hence the mole.
She cut her chicken, took a delicate bite, chewed and swallowed. “It’s so moist. Sweet and spicy. It’s delicious,” she decided, closing her eyes as if recalling the taste and moaning.
Transfixed by her, I stared. My cock did more than stir, it came to complete attention as she reopened her eyes and licked the remaining mole sauce from the tines of her fork.
I had plans for dessert. Big long term plans I wanted to share as I served her the flan. A couple of brochures with glossy pictures and a key. But they could wait. She wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t going anywhere. We had all night.
“Why aren’t you eating?” Noticing my sudden stillness, she studied me through her lashes.
“We’ll eat later,” I growled, threw back my chair and practically pounced. Grabbing her by the waist, I tossed her over my shoulder.
She squealed, more excited about being fucked by me than all the romantic trappings apparently. So be it. I would try to curb her insatiable need. Exhaust us both. Then I would reveal it all to her.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Miriam
The sound of running water in the bathroom behind me, I trailed my fingers over the surface of the bed. Two times there. Once fast. Once slow. Both incredible. I stepped over the comforter. In the heat of the moment it had been swept to the floor and forgotten.
On my way to the east facing windows, I passed the seating area. My lips lifted into a ghost of a smile remembering the third time. So wild and rough we had broken the coffee table. The phone call and stern warning from security. Our amusement afterward. Feeling King’s laughter. He had been inside me at the time.
Unforgettable.
The fourth and final time in the shower only moments ago. Washing his hair. Soaping his body. Tracing the ink over his heart that spelled his brother’s name.
Worshipful.
I had tiptoed out when he started to shave. Just watching him perform the simple task of lathering and drawing the razor through his stubble brought tears to my eyes. Too intimate. At least when I had cried in the shower the spraying water had hidden my tears.
Did he know?
Did he sense my sadness?
My desperate desire to commit everything about him and this night to memory?
I choked back the emotion. I should go. Right now. Take advantage of the opportunity. Scribble a note and leave, but I couldn’t. That would be the coward’s way. He deserved better.
Plus, a note could be ambiguous. I couldn’t risk that. I had to make sure that he understood that this was the end. That he didn’t want to come near me again.
I hugged my arms around myself as I stood in front of the windows and gazed out at the city. Rays of bright light streamed between the buildings brimming with hope and possibilities as the sun heralded a new day. Hope and possibilities for other people. Today was a day absent those things for me. As would be the next and the one that followed. After this I knew I would never be able to look at a sunrise the same way again.
“Reina.” His arms, his strong arms, ones that could no longer comfort, slid around me from behind. He pressed his body to mine. It was still warm and damp from the hot shower. He seemed not to notice how stiffly I held myself as he gently brushed my hair to the front and pressed a soft kiss to the back of my neck. “Why are you already dressed? We’re staying in. It’s time to have the flan we skipped last night. And I want to talk with you about some things.”
“I can’t.” My throat closed. I wondered what he had planned. I wanted to know. His eyes sparkled meaningfully with promise as precious as the sunrise, but I couldn’t have that promise. I couldn’t have him. I cleared my throat. “I have to go.” Truth, play it as straight as I could. Make him believe it.
“I don’t understand.” He turned me around, his hands on my shoulders, his gaze searching, his expression confused.
“I’m leaving Seattle.” I braced, anticipating his withdrawal. “I have a return flight back to Vegas today.”
“What?” His grip tightened no longer gentle. “When did you decide this?”
“Yesterday.” The timer had been ticking all along, though I had ignored it. Stupidity on my part. Selfishness. The castle I had built in my mind set to crumble. My hopes for its king and queen soon to be nothing more than scattered rubble.
“Then what the hell have we been doing here all night? This morning?”
“Saying goodbye,” I whispered, and he released me. Abruptly. His expression chilled me. Suddenly alone, the remnants of the dream weren’t enough to warm me. “I should have told you that I planned to leave, but I didn’t want to make things awkward. No expectations. Nothing serious. Just having a good time. Right? That’s what we agreed.”
“That’s the way we started. But I don’t believe that’s where we are. You’re conveniently ignoring a lot of important conversations. A lot of times we connected on a much deeper level. Is your memory faulty? What about when we both agreed to try for something real?”
I couldn’t argue against his points. He was right. I found myself wishing I’d gone with a note. More than that I shouldn’t have gone along with last night. I should have left well enough alone and been grateful for the time with him that I’d already been given. I should have gone back to Vegas as soon as Campanella called. I knew Juaquin. How loyal he was. How protective. I would have to make him hate me to keep him away. That was what I feared the most. Losing my sister’s good opinion of me was one thing. Losing his was going to wreck me.
“You’re right. We did. But that was then, and this is now. I’ve changed my mind.” His expression went from frosty to frigid. I shivered suddenly feeling the chill that descended over us. The sun rising behind us lent me no warmth.
“I’m not saying it wasn’t good. Four times in one night, I think it goes without saying.” I swallowed though the regret stung my throat. “Your reputation is well deserved. But it’s time for me to get back to my life.”
“Back to a boyfriend who is such a cabrón that he hasn’t consummated your relationship? Back to stripping?”
“Back to stripping? Maybe. Back to Frank? Probably not. But being with you certainly has opened my eyes to new things. And opened new doors for me professionally. With all of the publicity surrounding me, my boss upped the offer regarding his new business endeavor.”
“What are you talking about Miriam?”
“I’m going to do pay per view porn. It’s acting of a sort. Really good money. I’m sure you can see why I can’t turn it down.”
* * *
King
Poised on a sword’s edge between anger and despair, I had watched her go. I stood, arms at my sides exhausted by the internal battle that had raged within me before the door had closed behind her. On one hand, I’d wanted to grab her, throw her against the wall, rip her clothes from her body and sink my cock in her. To hell with persuasion, I could force her to submit. Tear down the wall of bullshit she had retreated behind. Make her admit that she wanted me. But here I was with my feet glued to the floor. Knowing her the way I now did, if I had forced her I would have truly and irrevocably lost her. Not only that, I would have broken her.
I wanted her, but I wanted her spicy. Independent. Her own woman. I wanted her standing in front of me with her eyes flashing fire. I wanted my queen back. Not whoever or whatever the hell had just walked out of my life.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Miriam
I sank into the empty chair beside his hospital bed, relieved no one else from Juaquin’s family was around. I had already spoken heart rending farewells to the rest of them back at the house. Outside the propped open door, staff went about
their duties. Inside the room the heart monitor beeped steadily. Not at all like the chaos in my own chest, the savage tearing and ripping apart of a vital organ that I wasn’t anticipating having much use for anymore. Not where I was going.
I flipped the healing medallion over and over between my nervous hands. Leaning forward, I reached out to wake Raúl, but he opened his eyes spontaneously. Those tawny eyes were so much like his son’s that my heart paused a long painful beat before resuming.
“Buenos días.” Good morning. He glanced out the window as if to gauge the accuracy of his greeting and scanned the room before his gaze returned to me. His expression was puzzled. “Where’s my son?”
A question I couldn’t answer. “I came here alone. I…” I trailed off and licked my dry lips. “I wanted to give you this.” I offered him the medallion. He took it, his fingers closing around the metal that surely retained the heat from my hand. “It’s for healing. I prayed for you many times. I’m not sure if my prayers are heard, but I wanted you to know that I spoke them on your behalf. I’m glad you’re doing better.” I glanced away struggling for a moment to press back the tears that I wouldn’t allow myself to shed. Not yet. Later. Plenty of time for that after I completed all of my tasks.
“Thank you, mijita.”
I brought my gaze back to his face and acknowledged his gratitude with a nod, but that wasn’t why I was here. “You need to do all that you can to get well because your son loves you and you two have only begun mending a relationship that’s very important to him.”
“How do you know this? Did he tell you?” he asked suspiciously.
“No.” I shook my head. “He wouldn’t. You and I both know he wouldn’t.”
“He’s stubborn, that one.” It was his turn to nod. His expression softening as he studied me. “You know him well.”
“Yes,” I said simply.
“Do you love him?”
I went completely still. “Do you?” I offered back but didn’t wait for his answer. “Because he needs you to. He needs to know he has your approval. He needs to know you support him. That you will always be there for him no matter what.”
“Is something going to happen to him, mijita?” His expression sharpening, he attempted to sit up straighter in the bed.
“Who can say?” I gave him a vague reply though it was the very real and specific threat of Campanella that I feared. “Your son is…” My eyes filled. “Juaquin is a wonderful man. Strong and stoic, protective of those he cares for like you, but kind and thoughtful like your wife.” I rushed on. I had to get going. I couldn’t afford to miss my flight. I couldn’t afford to linger. Not when I was so tempted to stay where I had been made to feel so welcome. “I didn’t know Adrian.” There was a lag on his heart monitor before it resumed beating at a notably faster pace than before. “But I know the hole that his absence left behind in your lives. Don’t shut Juaquin out anymore. Please. Life is too uncertain. We don’t often get second chances to say or do the right thing by those we love. Your son offered you one of those the other day. You should take it.”
* * *
My stomach churned anxiously as I stared out the windows of the taxi at the gridlock of cars around it. No rhyme or reason for the slowdown. I had forgotten how much the freeways in Seattle were a gamble at any hour. The hospital stop had narrowed the margin for error. It was going to be close for me to make my flight.
“War,” I began as soon as he picked up. “It’s Miriam.”
“Hey Juliet, funny you should call. I was just telling Shaina about the time during our first tour when we all went to see your play.”
Funny for him maybe. Not so much for me. More like mortifying. I had been so nervous about opening night and seeing Juaquin that I had only just barely made it to a nearby trashcan before I had hurled.
“I’m with Shaina. I’ll put you on speaker.”
“No, don’t. Please…I…”
“Hi, Miriam,” she greeted cheerily. “I just wanted to tell you that War lost it just like that in London this summer.”
“That was bad fish and chips, sweetness.”
She snorted. “Keep telling yourself that, babe, if it makes you feel better. But the rest of us know it was the ninety thousand rabid Tempest fans in Wembley and the fact that your performance in front of them was being recorded.”
He said something to her that I couldn’t make out.
“Not here.” She let out a throaty giggle. “No, stop that. I wanna say something first. Miriam,” she called.
“Yeah,” I replied dully, not feeling like reminiscing or hearing them messing around particularly. Not that I wasn’t supportive of Warren and Shaina and the unlikely love that they had found. It had given me hope that I might find something similar with Juaquin someday. It was just that I knew now that there was no chance of that ever happening.
“I had such a nice time chatting with you in New Orleans about acting. I know we don’t know each other all that well, but you’re part of the Tempest family, so I feel kind of like we’re family, too. So, sister, don’t let all this media stuff get to you. Whatever you want to do, you do it. But maybe you could take your career in another direction if you wanted to. I told my agent about you. She wants to meet with you. I’m texting you her number.”
“Thanks.” My eyes burned as I heard the bleep from her text. I had never even presumed to ask her for a favor like that. “That’s very thoughtful.”
“I should have offered sooner. I just assumed you wanted to finish college first.”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. I noticed that the taxi was moving again. I needed to get this conversation moving along again, too.
“Hey, I’m almost to the airport. Do you mind if I speak to War for a second privately?”
“Sure.” The background noise on the call disappeared. I didn’t wait. I didn’t segue. War was a no filter, no bullshit kind of guy anyway so that’s how I gave it to him.
“I’m calling about Juaquin. I know you’re worried about his solo stuff. You should be, but not for the reason you think. He’s totally a Tempest guy. But I’ve heard some of his stuff. It’s flipping phenomenal. He could take it, run with it all the way to the top and never look back. And you guys could lose him. But not if you set the tone with him for the rest of the group going forward.”
“How’s that?”
Some of the churn from my stomach settled. He was listening. Straight shooting had been the right approach. “Tell him that it’s cool what he’s doing. Tell him he has your support. Tell him in front of the others. Make him an example. Let everyone know that you believe that individual exploration isn’t a threat to the collective. Lots of bands do it. Smart ones even encourage it. More creativity at the individual level results in a deeper richer collaboration for the group as a whole. Understanding tightens the bonds of friendship, and it’s freedom not fear that makes creativity flourish.”
* * *
I barely made the early afternoon flight, and I was understandably on edge. Poised like a diver on a high cliff getting ready to take a death defying plunge. No deep water at the bottom, just one big predatory shark and a whole lot of jagged rocks.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes for a brief moment trying to settle myself.
I had spoken to Juaquin’s father and War. Two major hurtles cleared. One big one remained.
I pulled in a breath, opened my eyes and saw that the plane was pulling away from the gate. I dialed the number.
It rang only once.
“Black Cat Records. How may I direct your call?”
“Hi Karen. It’s Miriam Jackson. Bryan Jackson’s sister. Listen, I don’t have much time. My plane’s getting ready to take off. I’ll be in the air for three hours. But there’s something bad that’s getting ready to happen. It’s extremely urgent. I need to speak to Mary Timmons.”
“Please hold. Let me get her on the line.”
A long pause. “Here she is now, Miss Jackson.”
“Thank you for taking my call, Miss Timmons. It’s King, Juaquin Acenado. He’s in trouble.”
“Oh, I assumed you were phoning about your brother. King seems to get himself into a lot of troubling circumstances these days. What has he done this time?”
“It’s not really what he has done.”
“I’m not a big fan of excuses, Miss Jackson. I’m more a believer in individuals taking responsibilities for their own choices.”
“I’d prefer just Miriam.” I let out a breath. This wasn’t starting well, but I determined to have it end well. She had to be on his side. His father. War. The other guys in the group. His family. I wanted them all to be there for him when the shit hit the fan. “I understand what you’re saying.” In fact I was trying to do just that, maneuver to the best of my ability inside the tiny little corner I had been backed into by Campanella. “But I’m sure you’d agree that sometimes we do the wrong things for the right reasons.” I went on to explain how in this particular circumstance that was exactly what had happened. I told her what Campanella’s lawyer had said, and I asked her to defend Juaquin once again as she had with the possession charges. I didn’t get to hear her reply because the flight attendant came by and insisted that I put the phone on airplane mode for takeoff.
Chapter Thirty-Five
King
“Another.” I slid my empty glass toward Addy, the seemingly ageless owner of Footit’s. The Southside bar that bore her name had been Tempest’s favorite Southside hangout since the beginning of the band.
“No more tequila, King,” she stated firmly. “Your eyes are unfocused, and you can barely stand.”
Scandalous Beat (The Tempest Rock Star series Book 6) Page 20
