Unbound (the TORQUED trilogy Book 3)

by Shey Stahl

  “Raven convinced me to come,” I blurt out, warmth flooding my cheeks as I blink heavy lashes. “She thought it would be a nice surprise.”

  He makes a humming sound, as if this is something he wanted to hear, my apprehension fading with the noise. “It is a nice surprise. I definitely want you here, I do,” he murmurs, his lips pausing at my ear, his fingers tightening around my waist. Dropping his face lower, his parted mouth meets the curve of my neck, lips moving with his words, “Take a walk with me?”

  I thought you’d never ask.

  Rawley’s bumped from behind and our bodies come together. “Hey, Rawley, can I get your autograph?”

  I can see it written on his face, the annoyance for the interruption. He turns to look over his shoulder at the timid girl to his left asking for his autograph. He nods to her but keeps his left hand on mine as he signs the cover of his CD she hands him.

  Even in the low lighting, I can see he’s made her night, and the five girls surrounding her when he winks at them. I know that feeling the girl has right now. I know because I’ve been in her shoes with him before, just to have him glance my way, lean into me, acknowledge my presence in a room filled with others. Like I’ve said before, Rawley’s a star in many ways, long before the world knew it, we knew.

  I’m not worried though, not this time, because with the way he doesn’t let go of me, I know for sure everything has changed.

  The moment he turns back to me, he’s asked again for his autograph.

  He signs for them but we start making our way to the back door of the bar.

  “Maybe we can talk out here,” he says, eyes on the door as he pushes it open.

  “Or freeze,” I tease, attempting to prepare myself for the cooler temperature.

  “I definitely won’t let you freeze.” I smile up at him when his arm is around me, shielding me from the cold when we’re outside the bar.

  When I’d arrived, it hadn’t been snowing, just cold as hell. Now puffy white flakes float through the air, moving with the breeze.

  As it falls around us, the city seems almost imprisoned in a glaring-white silence. There’s no sound, nothing stirring, no words necessary, just a sense of serenity surrounding us. It’s then I realize I left Tyler’s truck parked in the parking garage near the bar.

  “I parked back that way.” I point over my shoulder up the street.

  He shrugs, his attention on the pavement. “It’ll be okay. We’re not going far.”

  I take his hand, big fat flakes falling like tiny white shreds of paper in my eyes. Every step we take leaves a fresh footprint in the snow, as if we’re the only people in the city. Snowflakes fall gently from the sky and I’m tempted to stick out my tongue like I did when I was little, but I’m strangely focused on the footprints in the snow. There’s something beautiful about the moment we’re in, two people finding their way back to love, like these steps are a fresh start somehow, a way for us to finally let go of our mistakes.

  “The boys and I talked about what it means moving back to Lebanon,” he finally says when we’re two blocks from the bar.

  Grief squeezes my lungs and stiffens my throat. Light snow continues to fall, tiny flakes swirling at our feet. “I know music is where your heart is….” I’m not entirely sure where I’m going with this.

  A frown settles on his lips. “I never said that.”

  My eyes find comfort on the frost covered ground. “You didn’t have to. I saw you up there tonight. I know what it means to you. I don’t want you to give it up for us.”

  “I’m not giving it up. Dylan’s gonna be our manager and well”—he smiles—“I’m going to be playing at Murphy’s again every Friday and Saturday night, and then twice a month up here at Bailey’s.”

  Before I realize where we are, we’re on Pier 50. The buildings and their history, each one conveying its own story written in the cracked and broken windows, they’re in a part of town that’s fallen victim to crime and frequent drug use.

  We continue to walk along the pier, the water flowing south, crashing down against the blackened wood holding us high above the freezing waters beneath our feet.

  “Can this work?” I ask, drawing in a cool, deep breath, keeping my hand laced in his.

  “It can… if you let it.”

  I stop walking and turn to face him. “I want it to work.”

  I’m so cold I start to shiver. He wraps his arms around me. “I live about four blocks away. We should get you out of the cold.”

  “I don’t want to go back to your apartment, Rawley. I don’t mean that because I don’t want to be with you tonight, I do. It’s just… not in a room where you’ve probably taken countless women after your shows.”

  He pauses, as if he’s a little saddened by that, and then nods up the street. “Well, I’m not letting you drive back in this snow alone. How about we get a hotel for the night.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Come with me,” he whispers, flakes falling onto his lashes, knowing I will.

  He flattens his warm hand against the small of my back, keeping me close as he leads me.

  We walk in silence for a few blocks, the lights of a hotel now in view. The snow’s beginning to stick, about an inch so far in the hour we’ve been walking while cars slide around on the street. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve ever said to you. I know I said some awful things over the years.”

  He did, but I also know I let him.

  Bright red and blue lights reflect off the snow, police cars parked at the bottom of the hill we’ve started walking up, blocking cars from attempting to go up it.

  My hand instinctively reaches for his, rigid cold fingers barely brushing. “We’ve both made a lot of mistakes.”

  His exhale comes from deep inside his chest, his eyes searching. “I want to make you both happy.”

  “You will.”

  His thumb runs over my knuckles. His touch is shocking because my face is so cold. “I’m not sure how to anymore and I’m tired of making you cry.”

  I stop walking, forcing him to look at me. “Then don’t.”

  He tenses immediately and pulls me against his chest.

  “I can’t ever go back to what we had before you left,” I breathe.

  His expression changes. He doesn’t like what I’m saying. Focusing on my lips, his determination marks his eyes, as if he wants to argue but he’s resisting for the moment.

  “Not this last time,” I clarify. “I mean before you moved to Seattle.”

  He relaxes, slightly, blinking slowly.

  “It’s partly my fault,” I tell him, watching his lashes flutter, his control slip. “I didn’t want to let you go completely so I held onto whatever you would allow me to, even if it was a side that didn’t love me back.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” he says, shaking his head.

  “No, it actually was.” I draw in a deep breath, moving forward because I have to. I can’t hold back any longer if I want a future with him. These are things he needs to know. “It didn’t matter to me who I was left with, just that I still had you in some way. And that wasn’t fair. I didn’t care about anything but you. And now I can’t. I have Lyric to think about. We both do.”

  My throat feels tight and I pray he understands this is so much more than it used to be because we can’t just think of ourselves any longer. We have a little person who needs both of us.

  He says nothing as he holds me like he did the night I gave him my virginity, my fingertips stroking the back of his neck. “We’re not those people anymore.”

  And I believe him. We’re not.

  WE END UP getting a room at The Edgewater Hotel, which looks over Elliott Bay. It’s also apparently a famous hotel because of the rock stars that have stayed there in the past.

  When we’re inside the room, he’s suddenly serious, his brown eyes intense. “You know I don’t expect anything, right?”

  The look on his face is something I’ve never seen before on him. He looks
very much like a man now, no longer the boy I grew up with.

  His eyes, rugged and somber, offer me a reminder of what’s at stake this time for us. If we’re together tonight, we know there’s no going back again. What we do now hold meaning.

  He hesitates before doing so, but he draws me closer, his mouth at my neck and I can feel his ragged breath on me, wetting my neck. His heart beating crazily against my palm and I know I’m not the only one nervous. It reminds me of the night I snuck into his room the evening before the wedding. Watching him tonight, the way he’s expressing himself to me, I know what I want and it’s him. Right now.

  “I know,” I say and drop to my knees in front of him, working on his belt buckle. He smells like a bar, cigarettes and beer, but I don’t mind. It reminds me of him in every way.

  His stomach pulls in, a sharp intake of breath as if he’s disgusted. “Get up.”

  Disappointment hits me right in the chest. “Why?”

  He brings me against his chest, twisting us so he can move to the bed. “Because you’re too good for that.”

  “Why?” And then I realize why he doesn’t want me on my knees before him. “You don’t want that because that’s what all the other girls did to you, isn’t it?”

  His brow pulls together and he’s hurt by what he’s about to say. I sit down on the bed and he stares down at me. “Mostly.”

  I hate mostly. I hate the idea, the knowledge he slept with anyone but me. There’s something so pure about two people only ever experiencing each other, and I took that for granted.

  “Sophie,” he breathes, fingers under my chin until I meet his eyes. “It’s okay. Please don’t be mad. We don’t have to… if it’s….” His voice trails off. “I just didn’t want you to think I expected anything.”

  I take a deep breath, place my finger on his lips, and then tug on his hands to bring him onto the bed with me. “Stop. I want this. More importantly, I want you.”

  He pulls back, searching my face for a hint of falsity. I wrap my hands around his neck but he’s waiting, for what, I’m not sure.

  “Unless you don’t want to.” I’m embarrassed and insecure, warmth surfacing in my cheeks.

  He laughs into the skin of my shoulder, low and breathy. “Believe me, I want to.”

  Our clothes are discarded quickly, neither of us hesitating as he lays me down on the bed.

  His exhale is rough and shaky when he settles between my thighs, no barriers between us, but not pushing in yet. Heat pricks my skin when he slides his tongue into my mouth. Shifting his hips, he grinds into me but still doesn’t slide in.

  “Condom?”

  I shake my head. “I’m on birth control now.”

  He raises an eyebrow, staring down at me.

  I laugh, the action shaking the both of us. “I swear.”

  He cracks a soft smile. “Okay.”

  Pushing forward, his eyes droop closed and then he’s inside of me. There’s a moment of silence passing between us. When he starts moving, it’s slow, passionate, and everything I’ve ever known him to be before I broke his heart.

  “Fuck,” he breathes out into my mouth. He kisses me, hard and strong, telling me everything he can’t put in words.

  I’m sure of it. Nothing compares to the feeling of Rawley entering me right then, pushing his love inside me. Maybe the first time, because that’s what this resembles to me.

  “I love you,” he pants, eyes on mine. “You’re beautiful like this, flushed and breathless for me.”

  Pushing inside me again, he moves, fighting against the urge to move faster.

  A lustful burn runs through and my eyes squeeze shut as I moan his name against his shoulder.

  “Open your eyes,” he commands, low and deep. “I want you to see this, me making love to you.”

  He wants me to see this because it’s never happened before. Or maybe just that it hasn’t happened in a very long time.

  My nails dig into his sides, my kisses beginning at his temples, moving to his chin as his hand cradles the back of my head. Arching my back, I bring him deeper inside me, my legs wrapping around his waist. He smiles, one hand moving to my ass, knowing what I’m doing. His head dips forward just a touch, but his eyes remain on mine.

  He smiles, eyes trained on mine. “Goddamn, baby… I fuckin’ missed you so much.” His words blow over me with a rough whisper, hoarseness in his tone from the hours of singing.

  He shakes his head, lips parting as his forehead touches mine, our hips eager and pleas to never stop desperate.

  “I love you… have I told you that?”

  “Not in a while,” I whisper, smiling against his lips.

  “I do,” he professes, continuing to move inside of me. I close my eyes and spread my legs wider.

  He buries his face in my neck, his eager palms sliding down my legs to my thighs, thrusting faster, stronger than before.

  “You love me, right?” he asks, groaning with each movement of his hips.

  Raising my hand up, I push his hair from his forehead and make him look at me. “I love you,” I tell him, because I know I need to, and I feel it now, forever.

  Closing my eyes, he rocks faster, with desperation, chasing an end.

  My hands move over his back, his neck, everywhere, and he lifts his head. His breath shutters when I push my hips up to meet his movements.

  He keeps his eyes on mine and tears begin to form in my eyes because this moment is something I thought we’d lost forever. It’s something I’ve wanted for so long, to have this side of the boy who holds my heart back. Something I thought I’d never have again.

  A soft moan of pleasure leaves my parted lips. With a sigh, his forehead rests against mine, the muscles in his body straining. “Are you okay?” he whispers, panting heavily, trying to gain some composure.

  My hands grip the back of his neck a little tighter and I nod. “I am now.”

  “I love you,” he murmurs, his open mouth over mine. “That’s all that matters.”

  I let his words wash over me, their meaning causing my heart to thud a little faster.

  Taking my bottom lip between his teeth, he plunges his tongue into my mouth. Wrapping my hands tighter, my moans are suppressed by his passionate kisses.

  My fear fades in his strong embrace, his face close, watching me intently as I fall apart in his arms. “Don’t ever leave me again,” I demand, staring at him. “I can’t take it.”

  “I won’t.”

  My attention moves to him, head bent forward focusing on our movements as if they’re so consuming he can’t look anywhere else.

  He grinds into me, pace quickening and I capture his eyes right before his fall, hands pulling me into him. His shoulders shake, too shallow breaths that he takes too quickly. “Fuck,” he whispers, words caught by my mouth on his. I grip his neck and hair in my desperate fists.

  “Don’t stop,” I beg. And he doesn’t. He holds me until I know his love is finally pure.

  Rawley fists one hand in the pillow beside my head, the other firmly on my ass, squeezing with each thrust. Our movements grow frantic, need driven and one tracked.

  After a minute, his thrusts become jagged and he lets out a heavy growl in my ear. There’s no questioning what’s happening.

  His lips are at my neck now, trying to control his breathing but his steady attempts come out in irregular gasps. Chasing his need, he moves with determination that borders on rough, but I love every second of it.

  His head falls forward, my sight of his eyes gone, but I see his jaw flex when he comes, the muscles in his chest and stomach clenching as the endorphins take over.

  Rawley makes me feel a lot of things. Wanted. Protected. Loved. But at times like this, his weight pressed against my chest, he makes me feel worshiped, beautiful and sexy.

  A COOL BREEZE through the room wakes me; it’s from the sliding glass door to the balcony opening and closing. It takes me a moment to realize where I am, sleepiness settling deep inside me but I don’
t want to fall back asleep when I can vaguely make out Rawley’s figure on the balcony.

  Wrapping a robe around me, I make my way outside, despite the frigid temperature.

  Snaking my arms around him, I rest my head between his shoulder blades. “It’s so pretty out here.”

  He twists around and pulls me into his embrace, my head now against his chest as his hands cradle the back of my head. Dipping his head forward, he places it against my forehead. “Nothing’s as beautiful as you.”

  Turning my face into his as his nose trails my cheek, I search for the warmth of his skin in the frigid air. “I disagree,” I rasp quietly. “You are.” I then lift my palm to his chest and stare up at him. “Is this really happening, finally?” I ask. “Us together?” I add, closing my eyes.

  His hand finds my cheek, fingers barely brushing over my skin. His eyes glow in the orange sky, a brown so dark I can’t find their depth. It’s right now I see his love is endless.

  “Forever,” he states, assuring me what we have now is different.

  “I don’t like this new update.”

  I glance over to see who’s talking to me. It’s Nova staring down talking to the phone in her hand.

  A cell phone. She has a fucking cell phone in her hand.

  “Hold up, who’s phone is that?” I pat my pocket to make sure she hasn’t taken my phone again. Last time she had it, she found a naked picture of Sophie I thought I had hidden in a private folder. Apparently I didn’t hide it well enough.

  Nova glances up at me and rolls her eyes. “It’s mine, dummy.” And she returns to talking at the screen.

  “Why in the hell do you need a cell phone? You’re ten years old.” I honestly want to know the answer. I can’t think of any good reason a ten-year-old would need one.

  “Well, mostly it’s so Ollie and I can be together even when we’re not.” She turns the phone to face me so I can see some kid’s face staring back at me with a goofy grin and waving.

  “And why do you need to be together all the time?” Again I’m very curious for the answer.

  “Um, because he’s my boyfriend and he likes to know where I am at all times. Just chill about it.”