by Piper Lawson
“A man approached her outside. Seems it triggered… this.”
Security radios the manager, whose voice I hear a moment later.
“I’ll take it from here,” Harrison says.
I’m swept into the back of a car, the leather seats worn yet too formal for the rawness eating me from the inside out.
I want to scream.
I want to die.
I wrap my arms around my knees and do neither.
Harrison
She’s gone.
Raegan is gone, and the woman curled in the back of the limo is someone I don’t know. Her cheeks shine with tears, her dark lashes blinking rapidly as she stares at the floor.
“Did he hurt you?” I ask, trying to keep my voice low and calm for her benefit. Inside, I’m enraged and worried.
She shakes her head once.
He might not have hurt her, but he scared the hell out of her.
Management said they’d captured the man and that he didn’t have a weapon. Which means he terrified her with his body or his words.
She’s swaying with the motion of the car, and I lean forward to tell the driver to keep driving. It seems to be helping, or at least not hurting.
“Raegan,” I say when I return to her, kneeling on the floor so I’m beneath her. “This happened before.”
She doesn’t answer.
“At my club?” I barely force out the words.
A slow headshake.
But my negligence did this—worse than this—to other women. Regret is heavy in my gut, a roiling grief that won’t relent.
“A long time ago,” she says at last.
She’s so fucking young now. That someone met her years before, wanted her, hurt her—it makes me murderous.
“I don’t talk about it.” Her grip on her knees tightens.
My fingers dig into the seat upholstery to keep from ripping the roof off the car. “If you tell me now, I won’t ask you to again.”
I need to know what happened. I can’t stand her keeping secrets, not only because I’m used to having full information, but because they’re eating her alive.
Her glassy eyes scan the street beyond the window. “I don’t want you to look at me differently.”
What the fuck?
“There’s nothing you could say that would change how I look at you.”
Her gaze finds mine, and it’s full of fear. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She takes a slow breath. “It was sophomore year, and my brother was having a party with some friends from campus. My parents were gone for the weekend. There was a guy from his class—older, preppy, good looking. Like my brother, he’d gone to our high school, and a lot of the girls had a thing for him. I thought I did too. Until I didn’t.
“We were under the deck outside, drinking. He kept saying I wanted it, and I kept telling myself maybe I did, but it wasn’t true.”
The streetlights fly past the window, but I don’t bother to look out. I’m numb to everything but the woman in front of me.
“Did he rape you?”
The voice sounds like mine, but I don’t remember forming the question.
“Yes.”
I die.
A piece of my soul shrivels up, but my heart keeps beating because she keeps talking, and I need to be here for her. With her.
“There are parts of the night I remember, and others I don’t. I woke up in my bed. I was…” She swallows. “I was sore.”
Fuck. “He slipped something in your drink.”
A nod. “I went over it a hundred times. That’s the only thing I can come up with. I remember not wanting to be part of it. But the party was thirty feet away, and I didn’t scream. I didn’t do anything.”
“Did you report him?” My voice is even, as if listening to what she’s saying doesn’t make me feel as if I’m being burned alive.
None of it matters. I’m focused on her.
“I went to the police station but couldn’t go through with it. I didn’t tell my parents, not at first. But the burden got to be too much to keep it inside. I struggled in school. Couldn’t sleep. Stopped eating. When I admitted to my parents what happened, they fought over what to do about it. My mother wanted to have him charged and expelled from school. My father disagreed.”
If my teeth clench any harder, they might break. “How is that possible?”
“It’s not the way it sounds. The guy was from a connected family. My dad didn’t like seeing me hurt, and he thought reporting it would hurt me more. He tried to fix it in his own way. Got me a new computer. A synth. I wasn’t able to do anything productive, so I threw myself into making music.
“It was something I could do when I couldn’t do anything else. I’d spend hours working on tracks. Mixing and mastering. I didn’t need to act a certain way. I didn’t need to feel a certain way. I could put my headphones on and drown out the world. Hell, sometimes I could even drown out my thoughts.”
My chest is raw, scraped down to my ribs.
I wanted to know her.
I didn’t expect this.
“When I stopped going out to parties, my supposed friends decided I wasn’t interesting anymore. The one person who believed me and didn’t leave me or make me feel like an outcast was my cousin, Callie.”
I hate that Rae suffered that kind of torture, and I hate that she kept this to herself. No wonder she doesn’t trust anyone to take care of her.
“I have one more question.” My voice is surprisingly even considering I’m a second from burning down the world. “Who was he?”
Before she can answer, her phone buzzes. She glances at the notifications.
“Fans are pissed I didn’t stay for selfies.” She curses. “I needed those extra Wild Fest votes. Did you know you can vote ten times in a twenty-four-hour period?”
It’s totally irrelevant given what went down. But it’s not irrelevant to her. She’s focusing on something she feels she can control to block out the grief. I know what that feels like. I did it after my parents died, channeling every part of me into building an empire.
I grab my phone and navigate to the Wild Fest page. “Here?”
She presses her lips together, nodding. “But you have to create an… account.”
Her voice trails off as I complete the signup. Then I vote for Little Queen, one time after another.
When I’m done, I tuck the phone away and look up to find her watching me. In her dark eyes and pressed-together lips, I see a semblance of Raegan returning.
“I’d like to stay with you tonight,” I say. “I’ll sleep on the couch. The floor. Whatever makes you feel safest.”
“I don’t need that.” Rae exhales heavily, and her feet descend toward the floor on either side of me.
My chest contracts as I take her in, a long sweep. “I do.”
Rae
When we get out at the mid-rise boutique hotel, Harrison lets me go first. Not because he’s being a gentleman. Because he’s concerned. It’s written on every inch of his handsome face, every tense line of his body.
I told him a secret I never meant so share. One I buried so far down it hasn’t seen the light of day in years.
And we can’t go back.
Tonight was my chance to make a statement that I’m worthy of Wild Fest. But by this time tomorrow, there’ll be a ton of comments about how I left without saying goodbye and no more votes.
Nothing was gained, and it feels like something huge was lost.
The elevator gets to my floor and the doors slide open, but he doesn’t move.
I brush past him. “You should go.” He planned to stay in Miami for longer, so he booked a penthouse on the ocean a few miles north of the one my gig secured for me. “I’m going to take a bath and go to bed.”
“I’m not leaving.”
My hands clench into fists. “I mean it. Fucking leave.”
“You were right,” he says from behind me, and I pause near my door. “Tonight changed somethi
ng between us.”
My eyes squeeze shut. This is what I was afraid of. Our relationship has been filling a void I’d told myself didn’t need filling.
And now it’s over.
I reach for the key and slip it into the lock.
“I understand why you don’t let people in. I can’t promise to make up for all of them, Raegan. But I’ll fucking die trying.”
The raw confession as he steps toward me has my heart thudding against my ribs.
I let go of the key and turn slowly, the carpet soundless under my feet.
He fills the hallway in his dark suit. Somewhere along the way, he lost the tie. The blue of his eyes is like a stormy sea. His throat works, his scent washing over me as he closes the distance between us.
I trust him more than I ever thought I would. But he’s asking for more. To be let in when I’m vulnerable, when all I want to do is shut out the world.
I reach for the key once more, pushing in the door before pausing.
“You can sleep on the couch.”
13
Harrison
I can’t remember the last time I slept on a sofa.
But I am now, springs digging into my sides and my feet hanging off the end. I’ve never humbled myself like this for a woman. If tonight’s events weren’t enough to keep me awake, the discomfort would be. Somehow, though, I manage to fall asleep, because the next time I blink my eyes open, there’s movement by the door to the bedroom.
I shift onto my elbow, ignoring the pain in my neck from sleeping on a throw pillow. “Raegan?”
She approaches without a word and stops next to the sofa. Her hair is braided over one shoulder after her bath, an oversized T-shirt covering her body.
“How much is sleeping on that couch killing you?” she murmurs.
“Never better,” I lie.
In the dark, I can’t see her face, but she holds out a hand. I lace my fingers through hers, running my thumb across her skin.
“C’mon.” Rae tugs me to standing.
I’m awake in an instant, following her toward the bedroom. I fell asleep in shorts, my suit draped across a chair. The hairs on my chest lift in the cool air as we cross to the bed.
My eyes adjusting to the dark, I stare at the dent on the right side of the king bed and chuckle.
“We sleep on the same side, don’t we?” she asks.
“It would be too easy if we didn’t.” I stroke her hand with my thumb. “I’ll wrestle you for it.”
This time it’s definitely a laugh.
She turns toward me, our hands still linked.
“Tell me how to help you,” I murmur.
She’s quiet a moment, as if no one’s ever asked her that. “After a show, I can lie awake for hours. Sometimes, in my head, I wind up back at that party as a teenager. No matter how many years or gigs or miles I put between myself and that night, I can’t forget it. I don’t want to be there. I want to be here, with you.”
I’ve always needed purpose, and the trust on her face gives me a new one.
I inch closer until she’s a breath away. She doesn’t move.
My lips caress hers. Gentle, simple, without the intent to tease or arouse. She sighs against me, her palm flattening against my bare abs, making me tighten under her touch.
I kiss her like I’ve never kissed a woman, but then everything is a challenge with her. Even taking things slow with her is torture. Her tongue brushes mine, and my cock hardens.
I meant what I said. Something did change tonight.
Just not what she thought.
I back her toward the bed until her knees hit the sheets.
She breaks our kiss. “You still want me.”
There’s no inflection at the end, but it’s a question. Every inch of her body, the trembling of her lips, tells me it is.
“I wake up wanting you.” I drag the shirt over her head. “I go to sleep wanting you.”
Her soft curves have me aching, and I slide my hands to touch her breasts with nothing between us.
“I breathe, I fucking want you.”
Her eyes are wide, cheeks flushed, and lips already bruised from mine. “Show me.”
I don’t know how to fix her, but there’s nothing to be fixed. She’s made the way she is. Like me, she’s a combination of everything that’s happened to her.
She’s not broken. She’s beautiful.
A piece of art as exquisite for its flaws as its perfections.
“I’m not going to let you out of this bed.”
“All night?” she asks.
“Ever.”
I spread her knees so I can stand between them, her eyes darkening. I want to leave every part of her swollen and humming. Use every part of myself to worship her and every trick I’ve ever learned.
My body is tight everywhere, already anticipating my release, but it’s a long time away. I’ll make her lose her mind first, to see only me when she closes those beautiful eyes.
Her nipples are hard in the cool air, and I bend to suck one. Rae’s head falls back, her hair splayed out like dark silk on the duvet.
“Every time I make you come, you say my name.”
She snorts. “Seems redundant. Unless you’re worried I’m picturing Daniel Kaluuya when I close my eyes. He is handsome and British…”
I bite her and am rewarded by a yelp and her hand tightening in my hair. I want her to trust me to make her feel things. To not run away from me.
I start with her breasts, licking and sucking until she’s breathing roughly. Then I skim down her body, kneeling between her legs to press my mouth to where she’s hot and wet.
The lace is rough, and her flesh is slick and smooth. I would tear it off except that it’s frustrating her every bit as much as me, and that’s my goal.
I grab the side of her thong and draw it up, pulling so it tightens everywhere, leaving lines in her skin and making her slit puff against the lace.
My other hand slides up to rub her breast, tracing a thumb around her nipple before pinching. I suck on her until she breaks, shaking and shivering.
“Say it.” I trace a finger up the inside of her thigh, and she trembles from the climax.
“I’m not even naked—”
I press my tongue against her once more where she’s sensitive, and she squirms, but I don’t let her inch away.
“Harrison. Okay?”
I shift over her, the dazed expression on her face and the fact that her eyes are glazed with pleasure instead of haunted telling me I’m on the right track. She traces her nails down my chest and stomach. I love it enough that I hate what I need to do next.
“Flip.”
With a suspicious look, she does.
The sight of her arse in the air has me biting my tongue. I run both hands over her, squeezing and admiring how good she feels as much as the little sound of pleasure that escapes her.
I brush the hair back from her ear. “I’m going to fuck you now.”
“You didn’t last long.”
“Not with my cock. Need to leave something to look forward to.”
The underwear stays on, and the next time she comes, it’s around two of my fingers, my thumb pressing hard against her clit.
“Harrison,” she pants against the duvet, her hands fisting in the fabric.
She shifts to look over her shoulder, eyes full of hazy pleasure and accusation as I lick her off my fingers.
“How many more times can you come?”
Her sigh is tortured. “None.”
I press my lips to the base of her spine. “So much to learn.”
I rip the lingerie off her hips, ignoring her gasps as I plunge two fingers back inside her, adding a third when she’s rocking toward me even as her legs shake.
My mouth finishes her off, and she cries out against the sheets, her sounds muffled.
“Can’t hear you,” I rasp.
“Harrison.”
I shift her up the bed and onto her back, lifting her knees and instru
cting her to hold them there. “Again.”
The next time, her toes tighten around my neck as I suck on her, my hands squeezing her ass.
“Stop,” Rae pants, one hand fisted in my hair to hold me away as she scrambles back toward the headboard.
I firmly pry her fingers away, pinning them at her side.
“Why?” I ask.
“It hurts.”
“Physically or because you’re not used to someone putting you first?”
“Both.”
It’s devastating she’s never had anyone take care of her, even though the woman she’s become through that independence is admirable.
I want to be that man.
I bend down to press my lips to hers.
When I pull back, I reach for my trousers to grab a condom, but her cool touch on my arm stops me.
“We don’t have to.”
“You want to stop?”
Not being inside her after what we’ve done might kill me. My cock aches, leaking more every time she moans and writhes through a climax I dragged her to.
“No, I mean you don’t have to use protection. I’m on the pill. Have you…?”
I don’t answer because I’m stunned silent.
My muscles are tight, as if I’ve been worked over rather than her.
“Yes. I’ve been tested.”
Relief washes over her, and she moves first, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she tugs down my shorts.
I rise and kick them off before shifting back over her, leveraging myself over her body with my elbows. Lowering until we’re skin to skin, heat to heat.
I move between her thighs, nudging them wider and grazing her wetness to feel her tremble. The head of my cock slides against her soaked flesh, and the feel of her makes me groan.
Man on his knees.
That’s what this would be called.
Because as I grab her hip and sink inside her, one inch at a time, I am fucking fallen.
She trusted me tonight, and that tells me we’re going to be okay. Everything else, the club, I can handle. The greatest gift I’ve ever gotten is the one she’s given me.
Not sharing her body with me, but her life. Her hopes. Her fears.
