But she probably didn’t feel a goddamn thing for him, especially after he’d told her Brina was the be-all, end-all for him. Add to that he thought he would be no good for her. She deserved someone who wasn’t fucked in the head.
She said, “I put the beer in fridge.” She pointed a thumb toward the doorway. “Unless you wanted one now.”
“Nah. I’m good.”
“Good idea. You might not be able to remember everything you need to pack if you’re blitzed.”
“You think I’m a lightweight, blondie?”
She giggled and then put a serious look on her face, pretending to assess him, cupping her chin in her hand. “I plead the fifth.”
He shook his head, smiling, and then opened the top drawer on his dresser. “What I hate most about being on the road is doing laundry. How many shirts do you think I should pack to minimize the amount of loads I have to do?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea…but I could do your laundry if you want.”
“No way in hell. You want to wash my stinky, funky clothes? I barely want to subject my worst enemy to it.”
“I’m offering. I have to do mine anyway, and I usually do the kids’ too, so yours would barely add to it. If I have to do a couple of loads anyway, what’s one more?”
He grinned, shaking his head again. “You’re crazy.”
She bit her lip and walked over to the dresser, looking into the drawer and grabbing a few t-shirts. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
Nick considered her again. Now that summer was imminent once more, she was wearing the shorts and baby doll tees that clung to her curvy, thin figure, and he could see in his head what she looked like underneath—his memory filled in all the blanks. He swallowed, knowing where his mind was going, and he wasn’t stopping it this time. “Why are you so good to me, Gracie?”
She was standing at the foot of the bed now, holding a t-shirt up and setting it on the bed before picking up another one to examine. “You’re my friend, Nick—my best friend. If friends can’t be good to one another, who can?”
He stepped over and touched her chin, urging her with his fingers to turn and look at him. “I’m not so good to you.”
She frowned. “Why would you even say that, Nick? You are.”
“Yeah…and what have I done for you lately?”
“Anytime I need to hang with you—for whatever reason—you never turn me down. And a few weeks ago, remember? Those guys were getting grabby and handsy at that bar in San Diego and you threatened to beat the shit out of them if they did anything without my permission. Remember?”
“So? I’d do that for anybody.”
“Baloney.” She folded the shirt in her hands and placed it in the open suitcase.
It was on impulse, something boiling in his blood, but he wasn’t going to mess around anymore. He knew this was right, and he wasn’t going to deny himself—or his best friend—any longer. They had spent too many months pretending they were only friends, and he didn’t want to do it anymore. He reached out and, with a sweep of his arm, pushed both almost-empty bags off the bed. Gracie gasped, her eyes wide, and she looked at Nick just as he took her in his arms and pulled her down on the bed so that they lay side by side.
She looked frightened at first but then giggled. “What’s gotten into you, Nick?”
Instead of answering, he cupped her cheeks in his hands and kissed her. It was full of passion, love, and unbridled emotion—things he’d denied and buried and hidden from her and the world for far too long.
The only answer he needed was the one he got from her, and that was no protest, pure emotional response. Her hands were in his hair as she kissed him back and seemed to move her body so close to his, they were welded together. So he kept his mouth locked on hers for one kiss after another, but he kept his dick on a leash. This was not about sex.
After a few minutes, he took his lips off hers and opened his eyes. She kept hers closed and sucked air through her parted lips as though she were dizzy. He moved his fingers to her forehead and brushed a lock of hair aside until she looked at him. She cleared her throat and a small smile formed on her face as she repeated her earlier words: “What’s gotten into you, Nick?”
“Gracie, I am a complete and total dumb ass. I was looking for love with someone incapable of giving it, thinking maybe I felt it too, but it was right here all along. You…” He couldn’t find the right words to tell her what he was feeling, and he was afraid he would ruin the moment if he tried bumbling through it.
He couldn’t read her, and her expression was giving nothing away. “You’re not just imagining it, Nick, are you?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Imagining it? Seriously?” The laugh that came out of his mouth was nothing he could have controlled. “Gracie, you should have known me when Fully Automatic first started out. You’ve only known me a couple of years. I used to be the biggest player…I was going to say second only to Ethan, but I don’t think even that’s true. My plan was to never let a woman inside, to never get close, and why? Because my parents were the worst couple ever, and if that was what a relationship was all about, fuck it. I wanted no part of it. A growing boy’s gotta have sex, though. No denying that part of myself. And Brina? I’m not sure you even want to hear this.”
Gracie blinked and stroked his cheek. “No. Go ahead.”
He smiled. Spoken by a true friend. “I really don’t know exactly how that happened, except…well, she was the first woman in years to blow me off—more than once—and…she was very different.”
“‘Cause she’s bi?”
“Yeah. And…I guess I kind of viewed her as a challenge…and…please don’t think worse of her.”
Gracie raised an eyebrow—not unlike Brina—and said, completely deadpan, “Oh, I can’t think worse of Brina.”
Nick smiled in spite of himself. “She got under my skin, Gracie. I felt like a teenager again—unsure of myself, feeling like I needed permission and approval. It’s a place I don’t want to go back to. It wasn’t a partnership and there was nothing equal about it. I don’t want that shit or need it.” He looked down at her lips again, feeling the urge to kiss her hard, but he resisted. “I’m over her—way over her—and I want to keep our breakup, if that’s what you’d even call it, amicable, but I’ve had several months to digest my feelings, search my heart, and I know now that I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want hollow one-night or even several-night stands. I want a friend to go through life with, and I realized what a fucking idiot I’ve been. The time last year when we slept together? When I thought back to that, it was like being hit in the head with an anvil. Why I didn’t see it right then and there…?”
The sweet blonde in his arms giggled. “You were still Nick the Playa.”
He laughed and touched his nose to hers. “Yeah, I guess so. I wouldn’t have known love if it had bitten me in the ass, babe. But I see it now. And…” He let the breath out between his lips before forming his next words. “I want to be yours if you’ll have me.”
She brushed a light kiss on his lips and said, “Are you kidding?” Her voice was soft and quiet. “I’ve been yours since that night last year.” As Nick let his mind flash back, he knew she wasn’t joking. He knew Gracie had done some group partying, but she hadn’t been with a guy in all that time. Holy shit. What a fucking dick he’d been. What an asshole.
“And you still want me?”
“Good things come to those who wait.”
One thing was certain—he knew for sure what he wanted now. There was no question about it. He pulled Gracie close and let his lips and body tell her everything he felt for her, everything his mouth had no clue to say.
Chapter Twenty-three
NICK AWOKE THAT evening to his cell phone ringing. He sat up, blinking, and grabbed the phone off the nightstand. It was Brad, so he decided to go ahead and answer it. He glanced over at Gracie, whose back was toward him. He’d been snuggled up next to her, hugging her like they were two spoons in a drawer, and
he could still smell her on him.
It was a smell he never wanted to lose.
“Yeah, man. What’s up?”
He got out of bed and tiptoed into the hallway so his voice wouldn’t disturb Gracie. He was going to mosey into the living room but remembered that the big front window had the curtains drawn and he was completely nude, so he instead walked into the bathroom and closed the door. While he walked, Brad responded. “Hope you’ve enjoyed your time off.”
“Yeah, I sure have.”
“I needed to give you a heads up about something. I should have told you a couple of days ago but got busy with family and other stuff.”
“What’s up?”
He could hear Brad sigh on the other side of the phone. “Brina came by the house to talk to Val and me.” Oh, shit. Nick hoped she wasn’t going to do something stupid like leave the band—and, even if she did, he hoped she wouldn’t leave them in a lurch days before the overseas leg of their tour was about to start. Maybe Zane…all those thoughts were swirling in his head before Brad could even continue.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I, uh, know there was something serious going on between the two of you, so I wanted to prepare you before tomorrow.”
“Spit it out, man.” As much as Nick loved Brad, the guy’s diplomacy often got in the way of stating the facts. Sometimes he had to be prompted to speak.
“Since we’re going to be gone so long and so far away, she asked if she could bring her girlfriend along.”
“Monica?”
“Yeah. She said their relationship the past year has been rocky. I have no idea how you fit into all of that, and I don’t need to know, but she said she thought that if she could have Monica along, things would be better between them.” Brad paused and then said, “You okay with that?”
“Hell, yeah. That’s fine.”
He could hear the relief in Brad’s voice—it was as palpable as weighty chains dropping to a concrete floor. “Cool. Val’s been on the phone with the powers that be making the arrangements to add another body last minute, and I guess that’s kinda why I didn’t think about you at first.”
“No—it’s totally cool.” Even cooler than Brad knew—he and Val had each other on tour, and Nick and Gracie were going to be together, so why not let Brina have her girlfriend too? Brad had no idea how much easier than would make Nick’s life—he wouldn’t have to try to keep his finally realized love for Gracie under wraps. It could be completely out in the open, something his affair with Brina never had been, even though everyone had known about it.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. Quit worrying, man. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah, all right. See you then.” Nick got ready to hang up when he heard Brad’s voice again. “Thanks, man…for helping Val realize her dream. Means a lot to me.”
Nick smiled. “I know, ya big lug. See you in the morning.” Brad and Val had more than paid him back by hiring Gracie to be their nanny. He doubted he would have ever met the woman if not for them. He hung up and set the phone on the bathroom counter, glancing at his reflection before opening the door. Shit—he looked love struck and dumb…and it didn’t look half bad on him.
He sauntered out of the bathroom and back into his bedroom. Gracie had since rolled onto her back but her eyes were still closed. He slid under the sheet, planning to hold her close again, but she peeked through her half-open eyes and said, “I hope you weren’t planning to go back to sleep.”
He grinned. “I was thinking about it. Why?”
“Well, it’s not late yet, and we still have to get you packed.”
“Fuck packing.”
“And I don’t know about you, but I could use some dinner.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s not a bad idea.”
“But I was hoping maybe we could take a bath together…or something else involving our naked bodies. I mean…it’s not every day that we’re naked together, and I’d really like to take advantage of it.”
He kissed her then. “I think I can accommodate that. Packing, though…”
She raised both her eyebrows, trying to look stern, but he could see the twinkle in her green eyes. “We will get you packed tonight, mister, if it’s the last thing we do.”
“Fine. We’ll get the packing done, but I promise you it’s not the last thing we’re going to do.” No, he planned to make love to her all night long, something he should have done a long time ago…and somewhere in there, he planned to tell her over and over again exactly how he felt about her and how grateful he was to have her in his life—because he intended to never let her go.
Locked and Loaded
Chapter One
ZANE CARSON TRIED to roll over on his back. He had a crick in his neck and all his joints were stiff, but there would be no stretching in this queen-size over-soft hotel bed. One of the girls he’d brought back with him the night before was scrunched up against his back, her arms wrapped around him as though she were seven years old, carrying her art project home through sinister gales and the threat of hail.
Not quite but close.
All the groupie girls—all of them—seemed to hold out hope that they’d suck his dick so expertly and look up at him through their sweet but hollow eyes that Zane wouldn’t be able to help falling in love with them. He’d never understood what fueled those unrealistic dreams. Lack of self-esteem? Unrealistic expectations? Living in a fantasy world? No brains and too many drugs?
He had no fucking idea. He often felt bad about taking advantage of whatever it was driving these girls to seek sex with famous rock stars, but it was something he couldn’t help. And he justified it by telling himself that the women got something out of it, even if it wasn’t a ring or a promise.
They got to brag to all their friends that they’d fucked a rock star.
Yeah…there was that old joke that the bassist wasn’t important to a band, but Zane and his band Fully Automatic knew better. The bass added richness and depth to his band’s music that just wouldn’t be there if it were simply two guitars and a drum. He knew of bands who didn’t care about the bass as much or didn’t utilize their bass man fully…and they suffered for it. They were usually nobodies.
Groupie women knew the bassist was important too—even if they sometimes preferred lead guitar.
Zane felt the girl’s lips on his back—or what he’d thought was her lips, and in a way it was. She was drooling on his back, and he figured it out for certain because he heard a slight snore-like sound as she sucked in air through her open mouth.
Fuck it. Time to get up.
It was difficult unwrapping her arms from around him, because she was holding on tight. Her mouth might have been slack, but her limbs were hanging on for dear life. Jesus Christ. Handcuffs had never felt this constricting. He used his fingers to pull her arms off his body even while they clung like magnets, and then he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and running one hand through his dark, shoulder-length black hair.
God, he felt like shit. Utter, complete shit.
It wasn’t just the aching joints and the sour stomach. It was a deep down empty feeling that had only two cures. Those remedies weren’t working much anymore. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It just took a lot more of them to work. Not simply one girl sucking his cock, but two. Not just a single bottle of Southern Comfort but a couple…and whatever fucking pills he could swallow along with the liquid peace of mind.
He sucked in a slow breath through his nose and surveyed the part of the room within his view. The drapes were pulled wide open, not that it mattered. They were on the ninth floor, and he had a vague memory of looking out on the city lights early morning while one girl took care of him in the front and another girl worked him from behind. And a third girl? Maybe…but it was fuzzy. He focused his eyes as he pulled in another deep breath. There were clothes all over the floor and furniture, making it look like the inside of a clothing donation bin for a thrift store.
Except for the sexy black panties.
But even those weren’t doing it for him today.
Zane let out a small cough to clear his lungs and reached for the almost-empty bottle of Comfort on the nightstand, screwing off the lid with the same hand he held it. He wasn’t even thinking about it as he chugged down what remained of its amber contents, swallowing it as though it were a glass of water.
But as he stood and felt the familiar-as-a-friend warmth flow down his chest, he wondered how the fuck he’d gotten here…once more. It had become almost like clockwork, that rapid decline down to the fucking bottom. He almost snarled thinking about it, just waiting for the alcohol to do its thing, but he knew good and well what he’d just put down wasn’t nearly enough. Maybe he still had some pills in his jeans to chase the booze with.
He shook his head and turned around. Yeah…it was three girls, not two, and damned if they didn’t all look like carbon copies. All blonde, all thin. When he and Ethan would party back in the day, his friend was all about the boobs, so they never fought over who got which ones. Zane liked breasts to be sure, but they didn’t need to be the size of volleyballs. Ethan didn’t care if they were fake so long as they were big and perky (Val and Jenna seemed to be the only exceptions—and that was probably because Ethan liked them even when he was sober). Zane, though…he had a consistent type, and these three fit it perfectly. They reminded him of the one woman he couldn’t live without but definitely couldn’t fucking live with…
“Mmm.” The blonde in the middle was making a sound, and at first Zane thought she was just muttering and stretching, but damned if the girl on the far end wasn’t picking up right where they’d left off last night. She was kissing the middle girl’s neck and snaking her fingers in between the girl’s legs. If Zane had more to drink, he could get in on the action, but that wasn’t about to happen. He was still touching the ground.
Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8 Page 159
