Reflex

by Madelynne Ellis

  “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, it is.”

  -21-

  Time together translated to her checking out of the hotel room she’d spent less than fifteen minutes in and moving her luggage into Spook’s room at the Hotel de Paris. Ronnie pulled faces at her, while squashing jelly sweets between his fingers and slurping them, but only for as long as it took Rock Giant to suggest the pair of them go jet-skiing together.

  “That your idea of fun?” Spook asked her, once the newly anointed besties had turned their backs.

  Sometimes she liked a thrill. Not that she’d ever been on a jet-ski, but truthfully, she was more interested in getting him alone to herself for a while than signing up for an experience. “How about we just go out and stroll? Can you do that here without attracting attention?”

  Xane caught most of the attention hurled in Black Halo’s direction courtesy of being the front man, and frequently getting caught doing the dirty in public places, but they were all household names.

  “I’m willing to risk it. It’s not like anyone’s expecting to happen upon me consorting with a gorgeous red-head.”

  Fair dos, he was supposed to be saintly.

  Spook didn’t even cover up. “No one’s expecting a black eye, either.” The bruising had faded to shades of brown, and the marks around his neck were only noticeable up close.

  One steep climb later they were atop the rocky outcrop that housed Monaco’s oldest district. Grand and majestic buildings sat huddled between shops and boutiques on narrow medieval streets. It was luxurious and quaint all rolled into one. Following a random turn or alleyway would lead them unexpectedly onto a charming square, or facing a fountain. Having browsed several displays of religious art, and walked the length of the Jardins St-Martin overlooking Fonteville harbour almost three hundred feet below, they ducked out of the sun to take in the marvels of the Oceanographic Museum. A marvel itself, perched as it was on the very edge of the cliff like it had been raised from the sea and settled there by some ancient god. The inside was full of wonders too. Octopuses and sharks, and tanks upon tanks of brightly coloured fish.

  The sun had dipped a little by the time they finally settled in the top floor café for a relaxed drink and a bite to eat.

  “What do you suppose the rest of your band are up to?” Alle asked having pushed away the remains of a dish of pasta. It had been mouth-wateringly good, but she couldn’t eat another thing.

  Spook finished off the last forkful of his tagliatelle, and sat back nursing his cold beer. “I think Xane was planning on a trip to the Princess Grace Rose Garden. He’s had a plaque put there in memory of Steve. Following that, he’s almost certainly getting hammered with Luthor and Ash. The girls are out looking for a wedding dress.” He scratched his head as if he couldn’t quite believe matrimony was on the horizon for one of them.

  “Liam?” Everyone seemed to forget the newest addition to the Black Halo line up.

  Spook scoffed. “Was up and gone at first light. He’s riding back to the UK with Troels on the tour bus.”

  The fact they had gear to transport hadn’t even crossed her mind. None of the band members seemed preoccupied with it either. She supposed that’s what happened when you were at the top of your game. Transport, fixtures, and fittings were somebody else’s headache. “Liam doesn’t seem very comfortable with you all.” She couldn’t recall him being there when the band was gathered together post-show, nor had he joined them at the restaurant. “He was so far back on the stage last night, you could barely see him from the audience.”

  Spook nodded his head. “He’d be thrilled to hear it. He’s not a performer. Truth is; we really need to crack on with recruiting an alternative. Except it’s a minefield no one wants to brave.” That admission necessitated another mouthful of beer.

  He gasped in relief, and drew the back of his hand across his mouth. “Gah… Elspeth’s a mess, but, you realise, she’s still officially our keyboard player. Hell knows if she’ll ever rejoin us, or if that’s even a good idea. It kind of makes things awkward from the angle of recruitment. That, and our recent experiences of bringing in outsiders haven’t exactly been great.”

  “Luthor?”

  “Willows,” he reminded her. “Fucker. No one wants another lunatic like that in our midst.”

  No, indeed. “Maybe you should hire Ronnie,” she joked. “Seeing as he and Rock Giant are now super besties.”

  Spook cocked a brow, as if that were a genuinely appealing plan. “Does he play keyboard?”

  “A whole range of things – piano, guitar, violin, flute. Tambourine. Recorder.”

  “Yeah, that last one totally sells it.” He winked at her. “But maybe he’s a bit mainstream. Another beer?”

  They ordered another round and gossiped about Ronnie and Rock Giant until the drinks arrived. “Come and sit this side of the table.” Spook beckoned her with a tilt of his head. He stretched his arms along the back of the leather cushioned settle, making space for her to cuddle up close. His lips brushed the edge of her jaw as, smiling, she shimmied into the space. Alle sought his lips out in return, and surprisingly, he returned her display of affection. Damn, if that didn’t make her grin. Spook Mortensen in his open-necked shirt was one hell of a fantastic catch for a girl such as her. She was pretty damned ordinary. Certainly not typical rock star girlfriend material. But besides actresses and supermodels, who was?

  “You know, I still keep thinking I’m going to turn around and you’ll have vanished.”

  Amusement flicked through Spook’s soulful blue eyes. “Invisibility is my super power.”

  The rumbles of their laugher vibrated through their limbs where they touched. Astonishingly, hardly anyone had given him a second glance all day. Leastways, not with any sort of zealous gleam of recognition in their eyes. There’d been one mother and daughter pair walking along behind them who’d had a whole conversation she’d eavesdropped on about the deliciousness of Spook’s butt and how the heck he managed to make his jeans crease behind the knees in that particular way, but they’d simply been eyeing him up as a piece of candy. They hadn’t recognised him. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

  Spook clasped her hand and squeezed her fingers. “I’m not running off. You’ve got me until you head home.”

  “And afterwards?”

  “One step at a time, Alle.”

  There was no holding inside her disappointment or her fears. “Why am I so scary, Spook? What is it that makes the prospect of us so terrifying?”

  He drew a lazy spiral on the back of her hand, the tingle of which she felt all up her arm. “We’ve been over this already.”

  Actually, they hadn’t. What they’d done was skirt around the subject, without ever pinning down the central issues. He’d never explained why abstaining was so important to him. Nor, why it was fine for them to explore third base, but going for a home run was out of the question. Heavens, he’d gone as far as fifth with Xane. Even if that was, admittedly, a long time ago.

  “Alle, I don’t want to talk about this.” He made a point of stretching and then pulling his arms back in to his body. “How about we just enjoy one another’s company?”

  That was precisely the reason she was asking. So that they could both relax. “Did you have a horrible pregnancy scare in the past, or something?”

  “Or something.” He agreed, voice clipped, and eyes shady. “I’ve never got anyone pregnant.”

  Fair enough. But, what else besides pregnancy would scare him off penetration? STDs? Nah, she didn’t think so. “Are you ever planning on telling me?”

  He shrugged. “What makes you so certain there’s anything to tell?”

  Her guts, that’s what. Alle sucked her tongue, while he concentrated on his beer.

  For the moment, she probably needed to drop the subject, but they’d be returning to it. She had every intention of picking away at whatever scab had formed until it became apparent that the wound underneath was all healed up.

  �
��All right, so penetration is completely vetoed as an option. What about you turning me over your lap and dishing out some discipline?”

  “Alle.” He turned her name into a hiss as it whistled between his teeth. Blithely, she ignored the warning. Having her name thrown at her in semi-aggressive fashion had never, and would never, thwart her from doing anything. The whole of her childhood had been spent listening to those syllables being delivered in that way. A clap across the arse like those her brothers had endured when they misbehaved, that might have stopped her, but her dad had been way too old-fashioned and gender biased for that sort of discipline. She’d been the proverbial sugar and spice; a doll, there to be indulged. The boys’ transgressions, on the other hand, were thrashed out of them.

  She used to cry while it happened, not because they were being given sore arses, often as not for something she’d instigated, but because she was never dealt with in the same way.

  Interestingly, they’d all gone AWOL when he’d needed someone on hand to keep an eye on him 24/7 towards the end. Her brothers all hated him. Marshall especially. He’d called him a bitter, twisted, old man. Whereas in her eyes, he’d been a massive chauvinist.

  “If you won’t fuck me, will you at least give me that?”

  “Alle.” Spook’s blue eyes fastened on her green ones. Then, he shook his head. “I can’t.”

  Seriously? That was such utter bollocks. “You’ve done it before.” And it hadn’t taken all that much effort to convince him. “How was it okay then, but not now?” If anything it had been more transgressive the first time. They’d been in a recording studio, working, and she, at least, was being paid hourly for her time. Now, they were ostensibly in a relationship, and on holiday.

  Spook stood. The tension in his back and shoulders was clearly visible from his posture. “I don’t think this is the place for this conversation. Save it.”

  Bury it, more like. “Then let’s head back to the hotel and talk it through.” Alle stood too.

  Spook crossed his arms, which made his biceps more pronounced. The man had really nice arms. “We have tickets for the outdoor theatre, remember?”

  Like they mattered. It wasn’t as if they’d cost anything. Also, if he wanted visual drama, she could amply supply him with that. “The performance is in French, and I’ve no clue what the play is even about.” They’d signed up because the view out to sea was supposed to be spectacular. Also, the idea of sitting side by side as the sun set and the heavens twinkled into life above them had seemed romantic.

  “If we head back now, you’re not going to get your conversation or a spanking, Alle. I’ll be joining Xane and Ash in getting wankered.” The edge in his voice told her that wasn’t an idle threat. He absolutely meant it.

  All right, she knew when to back down. Actually, no she didn’t. This was generally when she kept on pushing to get her way and inevitably got herself into trouble.

  “Is that what you want, to go hang with your mates?” Dammit, her nose was tingling, which in turn was making her eyes sting. She blinked away the water building there.

  Spook rubbed his hands across his face. “No, it isn’t,” he sighed. “I’m happy here… I was happy here, with you. Alle, I’ve no wish to argue with you.”

  “I wasn’t arguing. I was just asking, and you aren’t answering. You have more barricades than the Berlin blockade—” She vaguely remembered learning about that in history classes at school. “And you never explain anything. If everything is ruled out, then at least tell me why.”

  He breathed deeply through his nose into his clasped fists. “First, let me ask you something. Why do you want me to?”

  “Is this a test?”

  “If you like.”

  The more nervous he was, the more he expressed himself through his hands. Right now, she was making him extremely antsy. “I don’t know, Spook. I just do. It’s a turn on. Do you analyse the reasons behind your liking particular things? There’s no specific reason.” Besides her missing out on some punishments as a kid. “It just hits certain buttons. The same as it does for you. Why do you so fastidiously avoid everything that gives you pleasure?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Fine, not everything, but a lot of things. No sex, no dodgy food, only wholegrains. No bending me over and reddening my backside, even though you know you’d get a fucking big kick out of it.”

  He dragged her out of the restaurant, away from the interest they’d begun to generate amongst the other patrons. “Because I don’t want to endure the crash afterwards, okay,” he spat at her once they were back in the open air.

  “Crash?” What the hell was he talking about?

  “You think I’m not going to wind up floating if I tan your arse? Of course there’s a come down from that.”

  Oh. Okay. Much of her anger drained away. She bit her nail, for she didn’t seem to have an answer to that. “You were okay before.”

  “Was I? You didn’t see me afterwards. Look, I know I’m not explaining very well. It’s just… You’re like an itch under my skin. Alle, I want to scratch it so much, but I know if I do, it’s going to be really hard to stop. I’m going to want more, and it’ll get out of control. And that’s dangerous. It’d be bad for both of us. We’ll both wind up getting hurt.”

  “You make spanking sound like a drug.”

  “The rush is the same.”

  She grabbed his hand. “Fine. I get it. I’m crazy bad for you. Let’s go and watch some theatre.”

  -22-

  Spook sat on the stone bench. His arse chilled, and his blood boiled. Alle was pissed at him. Undeniably, really fucking pissed off at him. He wasn’t pissed off at her. Not really. All she was doing was pushing for what they both wanted. In his book, that made her anger at least a tad justifiable.

  Obviously, he wasn’t under any obligation to dole out punishments to her, but they both knew he was throwing objections out there more or less to ensure he’d have a reason… some reason… any reason, not to risk getting too wound up in his attraction to her.

  And he was attracted to her.

  The woman was like a chain around his throat.

  He hadn’t a clue what the play was about. He could converse and read French well enough to get by, but following a dialogue-intensive performance while his head was in a different space altogether—not a chance. It was very French. He knew that much, and pretty much nothing else. Not even the main protagonist’s name. His mind had been laser focussed on Allegra Hutton the last ninety minutes, ever since they’d taken their seats in the stone amphitheatre. On things like tying her up and using his tongue on her. Or the vibrator he’d made, using one of Ginny’s ‘Make Your Own Moulds’ to make her come until she literally flopped from exhaustion. Or, striping the backs of her thighs with the leather of his belt, while tormenting her nipples with some decorative clamps. Or fucking her so that she screamed and came so hard that she squeezed his cock in a way that milked him goddamned dry.

  Not that indulging any one of those fantasies was a realistic proposition. He didn’t have the vibrator with him, or any clamps, and if he fucked her he was doomed. Guaranteed.

  If he started, he wouldn’t stop.

  However, he wasn’t content to let this gulf between them endure either.

  Fuck it. The discord offended him on so many levels. He prided himself on being a fucking gentleman, and she was shivering. He could see the goosebumps on her arms. Neither of them had come out with a jacket. It hadn’t been a pre-requisite in the sun, but now that daylight had faded, the breeze blowing in off the sea was no longer quite so welcome. Combined with the cold stone beneath them, he was freezing his nads off, and that was through a layer of denim. Alle was dressed in a tiny slip of a dress.

  She hadn’t looked at him once. Not when he’d shifted, or pointedly positioned his attention elsewhere.

  You know it’s fucking stupid how you’re so damn terrified of what she’s offering you. In particular, because you want it.

  Xane
was silently berating him again. Fucker had imprinted himself in Spook’s brain the other night, and he wouldn’t flippin’ shut up. Probably because he was right.

  God’s truth, he did enjoy being with Alle. Strolling around hand in hand, trying on hats, and pointing out trinkets in the shop windows with her earlier had been more fun than he’d had in months. She was crazy easy company. Exactly as she had been during their many, many late night chats. She’d saved him from serious amounts of boredom while touring.

  Here’s your chance. Take it, fuckwit. And don’t feed me that crap about you not being sexually motivated. I know it’s an outright lie.

  All he had to do was trust her as he’d done that morning. What she’d done had been hot as hell, and she’d respected his lines. Seriously, what was so wrong about warming her arse, if that’s what she wanted him to do? She wouldn’t have a problem with him taking pictures. She hadn’t the last time.

  You’re just terrified of giving in and realising there’s no resultant cataclysm. That what you’ve been anticipating is a fallacy.

  It was no longer Xane, but his own voice lecturing him now.

  They’re very different people. Nothing much in common at all.

  Alle had her head very firmly and correctly set upon her shoulders. She was strong. Feisty. If he stepped beyond what she considered acceptable behaviour, she’d probably deck him.

  Hurt me, Jan.

  Please. I want you to.

  He shook his head, in a bid to dislodge the memory.

  He was capable of self-control. Hadn’t he proved that time over?

  Do you ever think about breaking bones?

  “No!” Of course he fucking didn’t. “You need help,” he told the ghost of a woman lurking in his head. “Leave me alone. Can’t you allow me the chance to be happy?”

  “I made you happy.”

  Had she? At the time he might have agreed. Looking back, he wasn’t so certain. It was more accurate to say they’d been locked in a pattern. He’d been a slave to his hormones and emotions. And way too damn eager to please.