by Lisa Cardiff
“Just drink it,” she finally managed to say, her voice breathless and way more vulnerable than she liked.
Cam lifted the shot glass, pouring the clear liquid into his mouth. She watched his throat move as he swallowed. Then her gaze shifted to his tongue as he licked his damp lips, and she felt compelled to climb in his lap and lick his lips for him. What was it about his lips? They hypnotized and seduced her without even trying. She shook her head, trying to refocus the direction of her thoughts. Exhaling a long drawn out breath, she lifted the bottle with her shaky hands and refilled their glasses. “Another?” she asked.
He nodded. This time they took the shots in unison, the salt and lime forgotten.
Three or four shots down and her inhibitions significantly lowered; Taylor grabbed Cam’s hand pulling him out of his chair.
“Where are we going?” Cam asked. Laughing that deep sensual laugh of his that inappropriately raised her blood pressure, he placed his hands on her hips pulling her close to him.
She couldn’t help it. Her breath hitched in the back of her throat as his body brushed against hers. “Dancing. I want to dance,” she said, her voice husky and thick with something she didn’t want to admit.
Frowning, Cam looked over her head toward the dance floor. “I don’t know…your bro—”
She placed a single finger on his mouth. “It’s just dancing and you promised to show me your moves.”
She lifted her finger from his mouth just enough to release the pressure, but she could still feel the heat of his breath dancing along her fingertip. She held it there for an instant, and then dragged her finger down his chin, the bristles of his stubbly face pricking her fingertip, before letting her hand drop to her side.
He smiled his jaded rock star grin that never quite reached his eyes and she wished she could see the real Cam again, but apparently, he only let him out to play in small, calculated doses.
“Okay, we’ll dance, but if Alec says anything, you’ll tell him this was your idea.”
“I promise,” she readily agreed as she grabbed his hand and yanked him toward the dance floor.
***
He shouldn’t do this. Cam knew it even as she pulled him onto the dance floor and spun away from him, her hips swaying provocatively to the music, her long dark hair shadowing one side of her face.
And then when she looked up at him, giving him the come hither finger, he was sunk. Her long dark lashes fanned her high cheekbones, her lips curled up at the edges in a sensual smile. She was a living, breathing fantasy. How had he missed it before? No more cold, humorless Taylor. She was a flame burning, almost too hot to touch.
Even as he stepped toward her and pulled her hips against his, he knew he’d regret this, but he couldn’t stop himself, not even if Alec came barreling through the crowd of people on the dance floor. He had no business wanting to touch her and feel the press of her body against his. Taylor was Alec’s sister. Chasing Ruin and the label hired her to keep him out of trouble, but none of that mattered in that instant. He was paralyzed by the promise of the sway of her hips and the sultry smile on her lips.
He dug his hands in the flimsy material of her shirt, sliding it up her waist ever so slightly so he could touch her soft, glowing skin. It felt smooth as silk as it clenched under his calloused fingertips. Moving his hips in time with hers, he buried his head in her shoulder, inhaling her scent until he couldn’t take any more. He needed to taste her. His lips grazed her neck, the same long, graceful neck that he wanted to lick salt from not less than thirty minutes ago.
“This isn’t a good idea,” he murmured against her skin even as his mind begged him for one more minute before he moved away from her.
“We’re just dancing,” she said, threading her fingers through his belt loops and pulling him closer.
It felt less and less like dancing with each brush of her skin and rocking of her hips against his. He was going to rot in hell for doing this. He made her take those shots out of total boredom, the need for company, and curiosity. And now that he had her hot, slim body anchored against his, he wanted more, and more would get his pathetic ass kicked out of Chasing Ruin without a get out jail free card.
“I need a drink,” he said pushing her away.
“No,” she said running her hands up his chest. “Just dance with me for a few more minutes. I love this song.”
He lifted his head and heard it—the song he loved and hated. It was one by Chasing Ruin. Jax wrote it and he suspected it was about Bre, so he hated it, but it catapulted them to the top of the rock world, so he loved it because it was instrumental in making his life-long dream come true. Always conflicted…was that how he’d spend the rest of his life?
I pull, you run.
I give, you deny.
I reach for you even though it’s wrong.
Don’t you know? Don’t you see?
I’d give you everything if you gave me a chance.
Let me love you. Let me love you.
Taylor pulled him closer, whispering the words of the song against his chest and suddenly the words once so painful to hear soothed him. When she whispered the last four words of the song so softly that he had to tip the side of his head toward her mouth to hear them, he held his breath, because deep down, he wanted to believe her. It had been so long since he felt close to anyone and maybe that was his problem—he had a hole in his heart that no amount of alcohol or women could fill, and not from a lack of trying.
She lifted her head at the end of the song, her dark blue eyes shimmering with emotion, and right then he didn’t care about all the glaringly obvious reasons he should run off the dance floor and crawl back into his den of self-destruction. He wanted to live in the moment. Even though the words she sang were lyrics and not a reflection of her feelings for him, for one fleeting second he wanted to pretend that they meant something, that he meant something to someone again, that he wasn’t just Cam the guitarist for Chasing Ruin. He was somebody separate and apart from his ability to play a guitar and his fame.
He brushed his thumb across her beautiful lips and he paused, debating whether he should take what he wanted. She was like the forbidden fruit dangling from the tree, and, in the end, he couldn’t stop himself. With his body aching for someone to hold on to, he bent his head, his lips hovering over hers and his mind knew it was wrong, but he kissed her anyway. He started off gentle and soft, giving her time to protest, but then she wrapped her arms around his neck and licked his upper lip, and all bets were off.
Within seconds, his mouth collided roughly with hers in a searing kiss. She whimpered quietly, parting her lips as a tremble rocked through her body. His tongue tangled with hers in a frantic rhythm that left him wanting more. He slipped one of his hands inside her shirt, his fingers tracing circles on the skin of her stomach, moving upward until he reached the underside of her lace bra. The scent of her skin, the taste of her lips, the sensual movement of her hips drove him crazy. It had been so long since he felt anything for anyone beyond the driving need for a one-time release.
Then she moaned his name as her shaky hands pulled his shirt from his pants and traveled under the hem, her nails skimming over his skin, and he froze. What was he doing? Remorse, resentment and embarrassment coursed through his veins.
“No more,” he said as he roughly pushed her away. He gritted his teeth. When would he pull his head out of his ass long enough to get his shit together? One mistake after another and now he molested Alec’s sister on the dance floor, a woman who not less than five hours ago, he swore he hated.
“What the hell?” She stumbled back a few steps, panting breathlessly and then she lifted her face, and her dark blue eyes met his. They were glassy with desire, but also anger and if he were a lesser man, he would have withered under the heat of her arctic stare.
He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on the ends, trying to force his mind to focus. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen. You were there…available. I drank too mu
ch. You could have been anyone. I don’t know…” He avoided her eyes. It was a lie. It happened because once he got close to her, he wanted her, not anyone else.
Pain sliced across her face and his gut twisted. “You’re a jerk!”
“Agreed,” he yelled back without heat because it was entirely true. He was that and so much worse, only she didn’t realize the full extent of it yet, at least not in her alcohol soaked mind. Once she sobered up, she would be horrified that she allowed him to touch her.
“Let’s go.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist pulling her off the dance floor. A bottle of Patrón was waiting for them and he needed it more than ever.
“No,” she snatched her hand back.
“You don’t have a choice. You have to stay with me.” Even as he said it, he knew it was juvenile, but at that moment he liked the idea that she was tethered to him for a month even if he wouldn’t touch her again. He had somebody that couldn’t leave him.
“Really?” she taunted, eyes narrowed dangerously. At that moment, she looked like a goddess raging against him, larger than life and more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen. He shook his head. He had officially lost his mind.
“Yes.” He let his eyes roam over her body. “For one month, it’s just the two of us unless you’re quitting already.” He smiled coldly.
“Fuck you!” She stormed from the dance floor, bolting toward the back of the bar.
He watched her as she melted into the crowd. Confused, annoyed and aroused, he dropped his head into his hands. What a cluster-fuck!
Less than a minute later, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Marcus.
“Hey,” Cam said, searching Marcus’s face. Did he see what happened? Marcus wasn’t the most observant guy, but that could be an act for all he knew.
“Did you force her to quit already?” Marcus asked, with his hands on his hips and his face totally unreadable.
“Yes…no…I don’t know.” He honestly didn’t know. He didn’t think Taylor would give up that easily, but what did he know about her…other than she smelled and tasted unbelievably sweet and he wanted to rip her clothes off on the dance floor ten minutes ago?
“You better hope not. Alec will rip you to pieces if you cause her to shed one single tear,” Marcus said.
“I know,” Cam responded, his voice flat because he did know. It wasn’t a secret and that’s why pushing her away on the dance floor was the first intelligent decision he’d made in months.
“Do you want another drink?” Marcus asked, following Cam from the dance floor.
“What happened with the red head?”
Marcus shrugged. “I got what I wanted.”
Too bad Cam couldn’t say the same. That one brief kiss with Taylor wasn’t even close to enough to satisfy him and that terrified and thrilled him. “I’m going to take a taxi back to the hotel. There’s no reason to stay and we have a performance tomorrow.”
“Since when has that mattered to you?” Marcus asked smirking.
“Since now.” It had to matter because his dreams were hanging in the balance and he had to show the guys he could change for the better. If the label kicked him out of the band or the guys tried to force him out, he could kiss his career goodbye. No band would take a chance on him again.
CHAPTER FIVE
Late the next morning, Taylor woke up with a pounding headache, hazy memories and an achingly dry throat. So this was why she shouldn’t drink. She clearly remembered taking tequila shots with Cam. From there, she didn’t recall much. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands sifting through snapshots in her mind.
“Fuuuuck!” She shot up in her bed, the sudden movement making her head spin and her stomach roll. That didn’t happen. Please don’t be real, she chanted repeatedly in her head. When no amount of wishful thinking succeeded in erasing the memories of her kissing Cam, touching him, practically begging him to touch her, she flopped back onto the mattress, covering her face with a pillow.
She officially failed. There wasn’t any excuse sufficient to justify her behavior. Chasing Ruin offered her the easiest job in the history of humanity and she couldn’t even keep her hands to herself for a single day. Maybe Miles was right. She was inept.
Even worse, if Cam wanted to get rid of her, he had the perfect ammo. One slip to any of the guys and her job would be over. Her brother wouldn’t allow her to be within a mile of Cam. She’d be forced to take Alec’s handouts or starve because she refused to run back to Seattle into the arms of her piece of shit ex-boyfriend, even if he still called weekly begging for her to come back. Handouts and starvation sounded vastly more appealing than being anywhere near that controlling loser again. The only thing she missed about Seattle was her old roommate, Evelyn.
Thinking of Evelyn, Taylor lifted her phone from the nightstand. She never told Evelyn that she accepted the position. There was one text from Evelyn and one from Miles. She deleted the text from Miles without reading it and read Evelyn’s text.
Evelyn: So are you officially part of the Chasing Ruin team? Please say yes.
Taylor laughed.
Taylor: Yes.
Evelyn must have been waiting for her text all morning because Taylor received an immediate response.
Evelyn: I’m soooo jealous. Maybe you could kiss Cam for me and tell me all about it. I watched that video and I wouldn’t mind sampling him for an hour or a night…
Taylor’s face heated remembering just how much of Cam she sampled last night.
Taylor: It’s a job. That’s it!
Evelyn: If you say so. BTW Miles stopped by last night.
Taylor nearly dropped her phone. Why wouldn’t he move on? It had been six months.
Taylor: WTF????
Evelyn: He said you won’t answer any of his calls or texts. He wanted me to tell you he misses you and he’s sorry.
Taylor: Tell him to call Natalie. I’m sure she can help with that.
Evelyn: LOL
Just then, she heard a knock on her door. She swung her legs off the side of the bed ready to face the consequences of her behavior. She could blame it on drinking, she could blame on Cam, but none of her excuses would matter. She petitioned Alec and Jax for this position based on the argument that she wouldn’t be swayed by Cam and all his antics. Well, the joke’s on her. She didn’t even hold her ground for one day. Pathetic.
On the way to the door, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Lovely, she thought sarcastically. Same rumpled clothes from last night, messy hair, and makeup smeared around her eyes. It all contributed to an unintentional heroin chic look.
She peeked out the keyhole and seeing Cam’s shadowed face, she let her head slump loudly against the door. Couldn’t he wait until after she had a shower to initiate this little tête-à-tête. She needed to be prepared for battle to have this confrontation and that included looking halfway presentable. Maybe he’d go away if she ignored him.
“I know you’re there. I can hear you moving around,” Cam said, his hand pressed over the keyhole. “Open the door. I’m not leaving until we talk.”
Apparently the silent treatment wouldn’t get her very far this morning. She flung the door open, letting it hit the doorstop and bounce back, nearly hitting him in the face. “Yes?” she prompted with one eyebrow raised.
Cam stepped into her room, walked right by her, his shoulder brushing against hers.
He lifted her discarded black lace bra from the top of the dresser and tossed it on the bed. “Nice. I like your style,” he said, waggling his eyebrows as he propped his hip on the edge of the dresser.
She rolled her eyes feigning indifference, but the heat barreling up her neck and encroaching on her face told another story. “What do you want?”
“We need to talk,” he stated bluntly.
True, but she couldn’t do this right now, not when she looked disheveled and she had alcohol seeping out of her veins. She pushed her hair from her face. “Can we do this later?”
“For your information, I feel fine—better than fine. Thanks for asking,” she said indignantly as she folded her arms across her chest.
“If you say so…”
Cam’s eyes drifted over the hotel room and she wished she had taken the time to clean up the clothes scattered on the floor before she left for the bar last night. She must have changed at least five times before she found something she wanted to wear. Last night, she convinced herself that the inability to find the perfect outfit had nothing to do with Cam. In hindsight, she probably lied, but she liked to think of it as self-preservation. Every girl needed a big dose of that to make it through life with her sanity intact.
“I need to take a shower and get ready. I have to check out of this room in…” Her eyes scanned the room for the clock. Unfortunately, the books and water bottle cluttering the nightstand concealed the time.
“Thirty minutes and the bus leaves in forty-five minutes,” Cam said pointing at his phone as he held it in front of him so she could see the time too.
“No!”
“Yes.” He slipped his phone into his pocket. “That’s why I’m here. I thought we could talk about last night before we got on the bus.”
“Ugh.” She looked around the room. “I’m never going to make it.”
“Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll throw your stuff into your suitcase.”
“No way. You’re not touching my shit.”
Cam pointed at the bra he tossed onto the bed. “I already did. You’ve got nothing to hide from me unless you have illegal contraband stored in here somewhere.”
She started shaking her head.
“Think of it as an embarrassing but necessary medical procedure.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know when you go to the doctor and they need to do something awkward and you desensitize yourself to the whole experience and pretend as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening?” Cam pushed away from the dresser and started opening the drawers.
