by Jenna Jacob
“Water would be great.”
“Coming right up.” I snagged a couple of bottles from the mini-fridge and joined her on the couch. “So, do you live in Kansas City?”
“Yes.” She nodded, accepting the bottle and removing the lid. “Born and raised here. Where are you from?”
“Just outside of Tulsa.”
“Are you serious?”
“I am. Why does that shock you?”
“I-I don’t know,” she replied, nervously. “I just imagined you’d be from LA or New York or some big city. Are the other guys in the band from Tulsa, too?”
Elizabeth’s lack of knowledge about the band and me was telling. She wasn’t one of our hard-core fans who scoured the tabloids, memorizing every facet of our lives. It was wholly unnerving to be with a groupie who knew everything from my shoe size to my favorite ice cream. Especially when I could barely remember her name.
“No. Burk’s from around St. Louis, Ozzy’s from Phoenix, and Syd was born in Detroit. None of us really know what rock Ross crawled out from under.”
Elizabeth blinked in surprise at my remark. But when I started to smirk, she just laughed. The rich, throaty sound was sensual and free and went straight to my cock. But seeing her starting to relax was equally arousing, at least to my soul.
“Why would you say that about Ross?”
I chuckled and shrugged. “He’s not the friendliest guy on the planet.”
“Maybe he just takes life seriously.”
“Maybe. But I’m keeping you as far away from him as possible.”
“Why?”
I tucked a strand of glossy red hair behind her ear to keep from caressing my knuckles down her cheek. “Because he’ll never make you laugh, and I’m dying to hear that sexy sound again.”
She lowered her lashes and dropped her chin. It was wholly satisfying to be with a woman who wasn’t tearing my clothes off or pawing at my zipper.
Cupping Elizabeth’s chin, I lifted it and delved deep into her blue pools. “It’s true. Your laugh is beautifully erotic.”
“Stop. You’re embarrassing me.”
“Don’t be. Not with me.” Unable to resist, I brushed the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip, memorizing the texture and warmth before forcing my hand to my leg. “Tell me about yourself, Elizabeth. What do you do for fun besides go to rock concerts? Do you work, go to college?”
“Please, I don’t want to bore you with my life. I’d rather talk about you. How many years of lessons did it take for you to learn to play the guitar like that?”
Grief sliced deep. Elizabeth had no way of knowing that her innocuous question just shredded my heart to ribbons. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to spill my guts and share my grief about Mac yet. So, I slapped a temporary tourniquet in place and shook my head.
“I didn’t take lessons.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Nope.” The tourniquet slipped and bittersweet memories flooded my veins. “I was nine years old when my mom dragged me to a music store one day. She played the organ at church, still does, in fact. Anyway, she wanted to pick up some new sheet music. While she was thumbing through the gospel section, I wandered over to the guitars. I picked one up and started playing around with the strings and the frets…figuring out the sounds I could make with it.
“An older guy with a scraggly gray beard and red suspenders walked up and smiled at me. He pulled another guitar from the display and started playing “Rooster.” It was one of my favorite songs back then. I was blown away that the old fart even knew who Alice In Chains was, let alone could play their songs. So I started strumming along with the dude and singing the lyrics.”
Pausing, I swallowed the sorrow trying to clog my throat.
“I was so wrapped up in the tune, I didn’t realize that everyone in the store had stopped and gathered around us, until the song ended. Next thing I knew, they all started applauding and whistling.” I chuckled dryly and shook my head. “My mom was so stunned she couldn’t even speak, but pride was beaming in her eyes. The old guy beside me didn’t say anything either; he just stared at me in disbelief. I didn’t know what the big deal was. I was young and naïve I thought everyone who picked up a guitar could play it like I had.”
“Oh, my gosh. You’re a prodigy.”
I suddenly felt awkward and embarrassed, much like I had twenty-two years ago inside that music store.
“That term was tossed around a lot back then.”
I didn’t understand why I was slicing myself open and sharing my story with Elizabeth. None of the guys in the band knew this secret, but for reasons I couldn’t explain, I wanted to share all of them with her…wanted her to see me…the man, not just the rock legend.
“What happened next?”
“After my mom picked her jaw up off the floor, she looked at the price tag on the guitar. I could see the tears in eyes when she shook her head.”
“No. No. It was too expensive. She couldn’t afford it, right?”
“Outlandishly expensive, at least for us. We were farmers, not bankers. We didn’t have money for frivolous things like guitars,” I said with a dispassionate shrug.
I wasn’t about to apologize for growing up without a trust fund. I might not have had everything I wanted, but my folks made sure I had everything I needed. They spoiled me with love, not possessions. Even though I now had enough money to buy anything my heart desired, I still knew that life’s most important treasure was love.
“That’s so sad. I mean…I know life isn’t fair, but it doesn’t have to be so brutal.”
Based on the passion in her voice, I knew Elizabeth had been dealt a few brutal blows herself. Before the night was through, I aimed to uncover every one of her scars, then kiss them and try my best to erase them from her soul.
Cupping my hand over hers, I gave it a light squeeze, delighting in that crazy hum of electricity surging through me.
“It’s not always brutal. The old man I’d been playing with saw my mom’s reaction. He introduced himself and asked to speak to her in private. She nodded and followed him to the back of the store. I stayed there strumming the guitar and trying to memorize the feel of it in my hands and the sounds I created.
“A few minutes later, they returned. I could tell my mom had been crying. I didn’t know what the old man had said, but I was ready to punch him in the jaw for upsetting her. I put the instrument down so I could kick his dusty ass when he smiled and handed me a guitar case.”
“He bought you the guitar?”
“He did.” I nodded as my throat began to close up again. “I was a junior in high school when he asked if I’d accompany him to Nashville for his induction into the Music Hall of Fame.”
“He was someone famous?”
“Yeah.” I chuckled. “Very famous. His name was Mac Wayman.”
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. “Mac Wayman? The Mac Wayman bought your first guitar and took you to Nashville?”
“Yes. I take it you’ve heard of him?”
“Heard of him? I’ve been listening to his music since I was a fetus. He’s the only artist my dad listens to.” She shook her head. “Mac Wayman. Wow. That’s so amazing.”
“Yeah. He was an amazing friend, musician, and father,” I whispered, blinking back the tears I hadn’t allowed to surface since his daughter called last week with the heartbreaking news. “I played the guitar he bought me two days ago at his funeral.”
Consumed in grief, I blinked back my tears.
“I didn’t hear that he’d passed. I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too.”
Elizabeth set her water down and hugged me tightly. As tears threatened to fall, I buried my face in the crook of her neck and choked down howls of anguish and breathed her in like a life force.
“I’m so sorry, Darren,” she whispered, softly caressing my back. “Clearly, Mac had a major impact on your life.”
“He did.”
“But you honored him…paid tribute to h
im by playing that guitar at his funeral.”
She stroked a soft hand through my hair, and an unexpected calm settled through me.
Harnessing my emotions, I lifted my head and threaded my fingers through her hand before drawing it to my lips. The electric current surging between us intensified when I pressed a kiss to her palm. Elizabeth sucked in a shaky breath. I knew then that she felt it, too.
“Who are you, Elizabeth?” I whispered, gaze stalling on her glossy lips.
“I’m just me,” she replied softly.
Peeling my stare off her lips before I lost all control and kissed her senseless, I stroked her so-soft cheek. “Tell me. I need to know everything about you.”
“There’s not much to tell. I’m a secretary at a law firm downtown. I like rock music.” She grinned. “And I turned twenty-two three days ago.”
“July eighteenth?”
“Yes.”
“Happy late birthday. What presents did you get?”
“Nothing exciting or even girly, I’m afraid. My dad bought me new tires for my car.”
So she was a practical girl. Good to know. “I get it. Needs come first.”
A wide smile spread over her lips. “Exactly.”
“Did your mom get you something girly?” Elizabeth’s smile vanished, and I knew I’d stepped on a landmine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No. Don’t apologize. I-I don’t have a mom. She left when I was three. It’s just Dad and me.”
My heart clutched. What kind of mother abandoned a toddler?
“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I didn’t mean to dredge up painful memories.”
“You didn’t.” She shook her head. “I barely remember her. Besides, Dad has filled both roles just fine over the years.”
“Sounds like you two are really close.”
“Very. He’s been there for me through pimples, puberty, and prom. He’s really amazing.”
Envy spiked. I’d give my left nut for Elizabeth to find me amazing.
“So, coming to the concert tonight wasn’t a present from your Dad?”
She grimaced and shook her head. “I won the ticket from a radio station.”
I nearly laughed at the irony. If Elizabeth hadn’t won that damn ticket, she wouldn’t be sitting in my hotel room right now. I felt the hands of fate wrap around me like they had the night Burk, Ross, and Syd stumbled into that smoky dive bar in Tulsa and heard me play. My entire life had changed that night.
A part of me hoped Elizabeth was here to change it again.
“Got it. Have you seen us in concert before?”
“No. Tonight was my first time, but I’ve loved your music for years.” She paused and took a sip of water, as if buying time while searching for something more to say. “Thank you for asking me to join you here tonight, Darren. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but…”
“It wasn’t this, right?”
She shook her head.
“But you came anyway. Why?”
“I couldn’t help myself. I feel drawn to you, but I don’t know why.” Thank fuck. She felt it, too. “I was actually just going to go home. But when I got in my car, I drove straight here instead.” Her voice softened. “It took me thirty minutes to work up enough nerve to come to your room.”
“Why? Didn’t you believe me when I told you all I wanted to do was talk?”
“Yes, but I also worried you’d want more.”
“Oh, trust me. I’d love to do a whole lot more than share words, Elizabeth.”
“So you do want to take me to bed.”
“More than anything on the planet. But I’m not going to. At least, not yet.”
“Why not?”
I couldn’t miss the hint of rejection in her voice. While she had good girl written all over her, she was braver than I’d assumed. Still, I wasn’t going to try and get her naked and between the sheets until all her reservations had been erased. Then, if she wanted to…we’d burn this fucking hotel down.
“Because we’re not done talking yet,” I said with a crooked grin.
“Oh. Okay.” She lowered her lashes, catching sight of the mark on the inside of my wrist. “Is that a tattoo?”
“No. It’s a birthmark.” I flipped my hand over so she could see it.
“It’s shaped like a half-moon. That is so cool.”
“When I was little, my mom told me that the moon had kissed me there.”
Elizabeth grinned. “Speaking of your mom, what do your parents think about you being a famous rock star?”
“They’re mighty proud, but they won’t let me get all full of myself. They center me…make sure I don’t lose sight of what’s important.”
“What’s important to you?”
“Love. Family. God and the land.”
“So you’re religious?”
I chuckled. “Not as much as my mom wishes I would be. I’m not a fan of organized religion at all. But I still believe there’s something bigger than us out there. What about you? Are you a good church-going girl?”
She laughed softly and shook her head. “No. I’m more like you. I think there’s a higher power out there, but I don’t attend church or anything. I just do my best to be fair and kind to others.” The sweet words poured off her tongue, but I caught a glimpse of something dark flash through her eyes before she blinked it away. “So, do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“Nope. I’m an only child. You?”
“Same.”
When the water was gone, I snagged some wine from the minibar as we continued learning about each other. Maybe it was because of our Midwestern roots, but we shared the same views on life and opinions about politics. It was crazy, but we even liked the same movies, foods, and sports teams.
It was nearly midnight, yet it felt as if Elizabeth had just walked in the door. She was the easiest woman to talk to, besides my mother, that I’d ever met. Elizabeth had patiently listened as I spilled my pain over Mac’s death, and was right there to offer comfort and sympathy from deep inside her sweet soul.
“Hey, I want you to know, I really appreciate the way you listened to me, earlier…about Mac.”
She smiled shyly, as if it was an everyday thing for her. Maybe it was, but it still felt damn special to me.
“Losing people is a part of life, and it hurts. It was really hard growing up seeing my friends’ mothers around them, loving and supporting them, while I stood in the shadows wondering if it had been me or Dad, or something else that drove her away.”
“Did you ever ask your dad why she left?”
“Once. I was thirteen. He simply told me she didn’t want us anymore.”
“Wow. That must have been devastating to hear.”
“It was.” She nodded and quickly swiped a tear from her cheek.
Cupping her neck, I caught the next one on the pad of my thumb. Then I made the fatal mistake of locking my stare on her ripe mouth. Drawing her closer, I slanted my lips to hers. A cascade of fireworks detonated in my system as I stamped the texture and warmth of her to my memory.
This taste wasn’t enough. I needed more. Deepening the kiss, I groaned when her nails scored my flesh as she clutched my bare shoulders. The heat of her body and the scent of her flesh scored every cell in my system.
More, my mind implored.
As I boldly traced my tongue over the seam of her lips, Elizabeth opened and welcomed me in with a throaty moan. All my good intentions went straight out the window. Our tongues tangled in a lurid dance as I explored every crook and crevice of her sinful mouth. But the ache to taste her supple flesh forced me to abandon her mouth. I bussed her jaw before skimming kisses up and down the silky column of her neck, growing braver and hungrier as I felt ripples of arousal sliding through her. And when she tilted her head to the side, granting me full access to her creamy skin, I flatted my tongue to her pounding pulse point and dragged the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip.
Her ripple became a shudder as she murmured a breathy
“Oh, god.”
“What’s wrong, beautiful?” I asked, smiling against her flesh.
“I-I’ve never been kissed like this before.”
Her confession stopped me cold. I knew she was young, but…why the fuck hadn’t this alluring angel ever been properly kissed before? And what other intimacies had Elizabeth yet to experience? Imagining her being a virgin made my cock twitch and a mindless groan roll off my tongue.
“Never?”
“No.”
“Have you ever made love with anyone before?”
Jerking her hands off me, Elizabeth dropped her chin. A potent wave of shame rolled off her.
Holy shit. She was untouched…pure. Far more innocent than a prick like me deserved. While it made zero sense, the thought of some clueless asshat ripping through Elizabeth’s hymen made me see red. No one was stealing her virginity but me.
“I should probably go now.”
Cheeks blazing and body tensing, Elizabeth started rising from the couch.
I clasped her wrist and shook my head. “Don’t run out on me. Stay. Let me be your first.”
Chapter Three
Tori
Present day
Seated at a secluded booth in the quaint but over-priced steak house, I smoothed the napkin over my lap for the sixth time while Brice refilled our glasses with even more outrageously priced champagne.
I tried my best to relax and enjoy the date, but everything felt so awkward. Served me right for not sticking my toe in the dating pool since high school. I felt like a teenager again, inept and clueless about what to say or how to respond to Brice’s flirtatious comments and seductive smiles.
Half the women in the restaurant couldn’t stop drooling over him as if he were a prime cut of beef. The other half were surreptitiously undressing him with their eyes. Without even trying, Brice was flipping the switches on every female in the place, except me. Instead of lifting my napkin to wipe the drool from my chin, I forced a tight smile and nodded like the plastic St. Bernard that adorned the dash of my grandpa’s ’64 Chevy.
Brice raised his glass. I met his warm smile with my brittle facsimile and clinked his rim with mine. “To sharing more glorious dinners with the prettiest girl on the planet.”
