Somehow, I was able to remember being him. The way it had felt playing at rundown bars, pouring my fucking heart out on stage just to have three fans cheering and one guy toss a half-empty beer can at my head.
“Would you want a CD?”
“Sure,” I nodded. “Sure, but let me buy it.”
“No way, man.” He motioned for me to follow him, so I did.
“Look.” I cleared my throat. “I’m trying to keep it low-key, don’t want anyone to know I’m here, you know. Just want to be able to enjoy listening to you guys and all. So can we just keep this between the two of us – just until the show’s over?”
He glanced back at me. “Absolutely! No problem.” The guy stopped in front of a table, grabbed a CD, and handed it to me.
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” I was trying to think of something inspiring to say to him. I sucked at that shit.
He pulled his phone out from his pocket. “Could I get a picture with you real quick?” He asked, unable to contain the grin sneaking across his face.
I nodded and the guy yelled across the bar. “Hey, Mallory! Come take a picture of me and –”
I cut him off. “Darryl.”
I felt him staring at me.
“Low-key, remember?”
After explaining, in my shitty, fake British accent, to fifteen people that I was not Jag Steele, but Darryl Bookham III from York, I finally made it back to Roxy. I could see her foot tapping under the table.
“So. You came back?” She tipped her glass up, then pointed to another full drink. “Got you another.”
“Look, I don’t care how fucked up you get me, I won’t let you take advantage of me.”
“Um-hmm. Okay.” She stared at me for a minute, her eyes looking under my nose then back up at my eyes. “You get accosted down there?”
“Yeah. Always.” I chugged the putrid green concoction down. “You sat up here by yourself the whole time?”
Roxy’s arched her eyebrows and shrugged. “What else was I gonna do?”
“Go talk to somebody?”
“I told you, I don’t have friends.”
I shook my head. “Bullshit.”
“I don’t! I don’t like people!”
“What about that chick back there? What was her name, Bree? Dee?”
“She’s just someone I used to work with.”
I tossed my head back and laughed. “Whatever. You were probably that popular girl in high school, the one every guy wanted and every girl wanted to strangle. You’ve got friends. Don’t try to be so damn hard-up with me.”
She crossed her arms and jutted her neck out to the side with attitude. “I wasn’t. I don’t have friends. I talk to people when I have to. I smile. I do the socially acceptable thing and tolerate people when I’m at work. But no one gets in my personal space. I don’t need anybody!”
I stared at her, trying to stop my teeth from grinding. “Well. Looks like you and me have something in common then.” What else was I supposed to say to that?
A few shouts broke out from the small crowd gathered around the stage, and the band walked back on.
“You guys ready for some more music?”
One girl screamed.
“This date,” the singer paused, “it holds a lot of bad memories. It was two years ago today that I lost one of my best friends, Sean Slade. He was our guitarist, and I miss him every fucking day. Roxy, I know you’re here. Love you like you’re my sister. I miss you. Sean wrote this one for you, Rox.”
Today was May third. Damn. That was the date on her tattoo, and it hadn’t even registered with me until now.
Several slow, melodic notes filled the venue Then the lyrics came: “Nothing means forever, forever means farewell, I swear we’ll stay together, but not even you can fix this hell.”
I glanced at Roxy. Her face was frozen, her eyes watering, and I didn’t know her well enough to handle her. My leg shook under the table and my palms grew sweaty. I tried to come up with something to say, but the only word I could think of was “sorry,” and that just wasn’t enough.
Suddenly, Roxy jumped up from her chair and sprinted across the room. I sat there, unsure of what to do. She’d gotten up so quickly that I hadn’t had time to react, not even with the help of the coke rushing through my veins. The band finished the song, and she still hadn’t come back. I knew she was hurt, most likely crying her eyes out in the restroom, but what the hell was I supposed to do about it?
I forced the last swig of absinthe down and went to stand, but stopped. I reached down in my pocket, wiggled my finger into the bag and scraped a little bit of cocaine underneath my nail. It was dark enough in that corner that no one would know what I was doing. Bringing my finger to my nose, I sucked back a quick refresher hit, smoothed my hand over my pocket, and then got up from the table.
I kept my hair over my face as I pushed my way through the crowd, although by now no one seemed to be paying me any attention. Word had gotten around that I was “just Darryl.”
Stopping outside the women’s restroom, I bit down on my lip. I turned and glanced around the bar, just to make sure she wasn’t out there, and then I pushed the door open. The women’s restroom was a lot cleaner than the men’s. No piss puddles, no vaginas drawn on the walls. A loud sob came from the one closed stall.
I covered my face with my hand, trying to figure out what in the hell I was doing, and she let out another depressing, gut-wrenching cry.
“Hey…princess?” I quietly said.
I heard her suck in a breath, along with what was probably some snot.
“You okay?” I cautiously made my way toward the stall. “I’m –” I stopped. I wasn’t at all good with this emotional bullshit. I hadn’t been with a girl in forever, except for River, and she didn’t count because she was nothing more to me than sex. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to be locked up in here alone and crying.”
“I’m fine!” she growled from behind the aluminum door. “Just go back to the table.”
I placed my hand on the cool door. “Nah. Can’t do that.”
“Why not?” she asked between sniffles.
“Because I like you. And I don’t want you to cry.”
“Well you’re just going to get raped whenever some girl comes in here and recognizes you.”
I laughed. “Is that a fact?”
“Yeah.” She fell silent. “Just go, Jag.”
I tugged at the door. “Just let me in.”
“No. Go away!”
“Fine.” I turned and walked toward the door, then changed my mind and instead made my way back to the stall she’d barricaded herself behind. I glanced at the floor and figured it was clean enough. I laid down, curled my fingers around the bottom of the door, and pushed myself underneath the frame.
Her eyes widened as I slid into the stall. Her face was soaked with tears, and mascara was smeared all over her blotchy cheeks.
“No.” Her jaw dropped open and she shook her head. “No, you just didn’t!”
A one-sided smirk drew over my face and I shrugged. “Yeah.” I placed my hands on the floor and stood up, wiping my hands on the leg of my jeans. “Yeah, I just did. I told you I didn’t like you crying.”
Roxy yanked some toilet paper free and blotted her face with it.
I knew how she felt – somewhat. I grabbed the tissue from her hand and wiped the black smudges from her cheeks. “Look, I know it hurts. It fucking sucks. Hell, it’s not fair. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry you lost him.”
She stared at me. Her entire face crumpled and her eyes watered up again.
“Oh, no, please don’t do that. I’m not good with tears and all that shit, princess.”
“Stop being nice to me. Damn it,” she whispered, fighting back the tears.
I huffed and swiped at the piece of hair that had fallen in front of my face. “Stop making me like you, and I’ll stop being nice.” My finger trailed down her cheekbone.
“I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for
me. I’m perfectly fine.”
“I don’t feel sorry for you. I know how you feel. There’s a difference. And you can keep lying to yourself and pretending to be some badass, but I see through that.”
“Jag –”
“Darryl!” I interrupted, correcting her with an arch of my brows.
Roxy yanked the tissue from my hand and shredded it in her hands. After a few moments of silence, she finally looked up at me. “Darryl. I’m going to need you to be a little bit more of an asshole. I told you I don’t like people. And you’re making me kind of want to like you. Stop that!”
“Want me to treat you the way I’d treat any other girl I had locked up in a restroom stall?”
She glared at me.
I slowly inched my face toward her, locking eyes with her as I brushed her bottom lip with mine. I closed my mouth and kissed her, innocent but wicked. The tip of my tongue flicked the slight part in her lips, and I slammed my mouth against hers, pressing hard as my hands rubbed up her arms and neck to the bottom of her head.
I pulled away and found Roxy pressed against the wall, her eyes still closed and a slight smile tugging her lips up.
Her eyes blinked open. “Okay. So – that’s wrong on so many levels.”
She pushed past me, opening the stall and walking to the door. “You better get your ass outta here, Darryl, ’cause these fluorescent lights make it pret-ty obvious you’re that huge asshole I love to hate.”
Chapter 25
I sat on the edge of my bed, strumming my guitar and staring at my bathroom door. I could hear the shower running. The sound of the water pouring over her naked body and splashing down onto the tile in the next room gave me a vision that made my dick swell. I’d been with her every damn day for the past eight days. Eight days, and all I’d done was kiss her and feel up her shirt a few times, although I did manage to get one hell of a blow job. I hadn’t touched her yet, because I was afraid if I did I would fuck her.
Over the past six years, I’d come to the conclusion that spending more than ten minutes with a girl was more than sufficient to rip her clothes from her and slam her down on something; but here I sat on my bed, fully clothed while a naked girl – a naked, soapy, wet, hot-ass girl – showered in my bathroom behind a closed door. As badly as I wanted to bang the shit out of her, I knew I couldn’t. She was struggling too hard with what I was; she still had that innate belief that I was a male whore. I didn’t want her to think that, so I was going to have to wait. I slammed the pick over the strings and groaned. Every bit of me wanted to go in that room. It was my house and she’d chosen to get naked in it, but there was this little piece of me that was terrified to fucking piss her off. I inched my way toward the bathroom and stood there staring at that fucking door, my fingers bending and flexing into my palms. Finally, I reached out and turned the knob.
“Hey, princess,” I said, watching the foggy silhouette freeze in place.
“Did you seriously,” she blew water from her lips, “just come in here?”
“Uh, yeah. My house and all.” I hopped up on the vanity and stared at the glass shower. “Just wanted to talk to you. What? Does it bother you because you’re naked and in the same room as me? You afraid I’ll see you naked?”
The loud huff she let out echoed from the tiled walls. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Nah, princess. I haven’t shown you unbelievable yet,” I laughed, choking back the slight tremble in my voice. What the fuck was I letting this girl do to me? She was making me nervous and uncomfortable. I didn’t get uncomfortable around girls, especially not naked ones.
I heard her palm slide over the wet glass, the friction causing a loud groan as she cleared away the fog to peer out at me. “Get out,” she growled. She was hostile. What a shame for her – all that did was egg me on.
“Nope.” I nestled back on the counter and folded my hands behind my head. “You get out first. Then I’ll leave.”
Roxy let out an agitated grunt. “I’m not a groupie, remember?”
“Oh, I remember. Plus, I’ve never let a groupie inside my house, much less that extravagant shower you’re standing in.” I snickered, then bit down on my lip, running my tongue over the back of the piercing wedged through the skin. “See, you’re way better than a groupie. You’re here because you fucking like me.” I laughed a little louder, gloating in the anticipation of which way that comment would rub her.
“Whatever. I’m not getting out until you leave.”
I shrugged. “Well, the water will eventually get cold, and then the fog will disappear from the glass. Today is the day I see you naked, whether you like it or not, princess.”
Another angry huff. “Fucking stop calling me princess!”
“Not a chance. I like you all pissed like this. And just so you know, you’re trapped, just as I planned. Offer to take you to dinner, knowing you’ll want to shower, because that’s just what girls do. I knew I could convince you it would just be so much easier for you to get ready over here. And look at the situation we have now. I have you trapped in a glass box, and you’re naked. Fucking beautiful, huh?”
Roxy laughed, and I watched her shadow flip the hair from its shoulders. “You’re not that creative. Don’t try to take credit for it.”
“Oh, what a bitchy thing to say. Are you calling me a dumbass now? Maybe I should just come open that door up? I’m being nice by keeping my ass right here, you know? I’m a gentleman like that.”
“More like fucking pervert,” she snarled as she pulled her leg up, placing it on the stone bench on the shower wall. I watched her silhouette as she slowly rubbed her hand over the top of her foot, then up her calf, behind her knee, until I could no longer tell where her hand was. I was intently staring at the fogged-over glass when she let out a soft moan. Holy fucking shit. Is this girl playing with herself? Oh, just fuck me. I want to play with that – or at least watch it. This is fucking torture. My dick twitched when another, louder groan floated over the shower door just as she tossed her head back. I could barely make out one hand rubbing up the side of her neck and I couldn’t take it any longer. I swallowed and pushed myself off the counter, making my way toward the shower.
“You’re not invited,” she snapped.
I reached for the door, my fingers trembling as I pulled back on it. “I didn’t ask if I was,” I said as the door swung open and a large billowy cloud of steam rolled out, engulfing me in heat.
Roxy was leaned up against the far wall, arms crossed in front of her breasts and her foot slapping against the shower floor, tiny beads of water flying up with each thump. “So you do have balls after all.”
Seriously? It was my job to mind fuck – and she had just mind fucked the hell out of me.
Roxy lowered her arms by her side, her eyes raking over me as she took several methodical steps toward the door. She wet her lips and whispered, “But the question is, do you know what to do with a girl like me?”
These little bursts of overconfidence that came from her sent heat coursing through me. I watched the trails of water running over her bare flesh, her unbelievable curves, and I found myself fighting to control contain my desire to tear into her. I couldn’t let her know that she got to me the way she did. I had a persona to uphold, but fucking hell, my excitement at seeing her naked like this rivaled the rush of adrenaline I’d get before going on stage; or, better yet, it was like the incredible surge that had devoured me when that first hit of coke made its way into my system.
“Oh, you have no fucking idea,” I growled. “I know exactly,” I slammed the door behind me and stepped into the stream of water, still fully clothed, “what to do,” I placed my hands on her slick breasts and traced my tongue up her neck, “with you,” I said, nipping at the delicate skin of her earlobe.
The hot water poured down my body. My soaked clothes clung to my skin, and the water rolled off the bridge of my nose. Slamming my mouth over hers, I snaked my tongue into her mouth and tangled my tongue with hers. I fucking wan
ted this woman. I had never wanted a person the way I wanted her. It was stronger than any urge I’d ever felt for a high. It was indescribable. And she – she was absolute bliss. Her naked body pressed against me, the bead of her nipples cutting through my thin shirt, the slippery feel of her skin under my palms – it was pure want, pure need, and fucking raw, undeniable, absolutely unadulterated fucking bliss.
Roxy lifted the bottom of my shirt, peeling the soaked fabric from my skin. “You forget something, fucker?”
“Talking to me like that will get you slammed up against shit,” I said in a low, controlled voice.
“Hmm. Is that a threat, Mr. Rock God?”
I raised my hands so she could finish pulling my shirt off. “Don’t fucking call me that.” I liked that she didn’t see me like that. I was infatuated with the idea that she liked me – not what I was. “Sex god will do just fine. And that was a threat to your pussy,” I said as I reached down and grabbed between her thighs, rubbing one finger over her. She was slick, and the fact that I had her that turned on made every muscle in my body twitch.
Roxy pulled the button on my jeans loose and unzipped my fly. She glared up at me while she forced the tight, wet material down my legs. “And if you think you’re getting my pussy tonight, you couldn’t be more wrong. Like I’ve told you fifty fucking times, I’m not most girls.”
She tried to jerk her hips away from me, but I grabbed her side with my hand and held her tightly while I kicked my pants to the corner of the shower. With her still palmed in my hand, I shoved two fingers into her, bending them, mimicking the come here motion inside her. I stared at her and, not getting the initial reaction I wanted, pushed into her harder while lowering my lips to hers. She leaned forward in an attempt to kiss me, and I drew back just enough to leave the plumpest part of my mouth on hers. “And I told you, I get what I want,” I breathed against her lips, digging deeper into her. And that was when her body went loose and a moan trickled from her throat.
Roxy’s hands frantically grasped at the waist of my boxers and pushed them down. She gripped me in her hand and pulled me, dick first, toward her. She pressed herself against me, her chest heaving from the anticipatory breaths she pulled in. I grabbed myself and rubbed the head of my dick over her wet, warm lips, closing my eyes to try and control myself. Her fingers wadded up in my hair and her mouth worked its way up my fucking neck, biting me every few inches. I wanted to fuck her. I wanted to throw her up against the wall of that shower, put my mouth all over her body, and shove my fucking dick in her so hard it would knock the breath right out of her, but I stopped myself. I skirted my hands down her sides and got on my knees to get my dick away from her pussy. I jerked her leg up and placed her foot on the shelf. Placing my mouth against her, I licked over her once before slipping my tongue inside. Water trickled into my mouth as I let the taste of her make me drunk. Sex. I loved the way sex tasted; the way she tasted fucking made me lose my shit. I sucked her round, swollen clit into my mouth, massaging it with my lips. Then I stroked back over her with my tongue, rubbing the ball of my piercing over every sensitive part of her I could reach.
Jag (Pandemic Sorrow #1) Page 18
