by M. S. Parker
I was going to get horribly drunk.
Might as well make Haze work for his pay, I thought.
As I slammed down the second drink on the closest counter, the laser lights caught my eyes. The music was actually starting to sound good. I spun onto the dance floor and began to sway with my head flung back, not caring whose body ground against me as long as they kept the beat. The strong drinks kept my feet from hurting, and I swung my hips, gyrating against whoever happened to be there.
“Hey.” Paris appeared behind me. “Let's go find Ricky.”
“Who wants him?” I didn't even spare her a glance.
“I guess you're right.” Her voice was next to my ear, her body pressed against mine as we danced. I wondered if Ricky was watching. “I mean, especially not when you have that smoking hot bodyguard. Did you really come when you dreamt about him?”
“Why, jealous?” I tossed a smirk over my shoulder.
“Too bad he can't make it happen with his eyes.” She came around to face me.
“Maybe he can,” I said. My stomach clenched at the thought. I couldn't resist adding a dig. “Too bad he's not looking at you.”
Her eyes narrowed, but I sashayed away before she could respond. Haze was still watching me, his brown eyes so dark they were almost black. No matter what he hadn't said about that night, his eyes told a different story.
A story I wanted to explore. I turned my body toward him and drew my hands up along the silky black fabric of my dress. I watched him tense as I caressed myself. My eyes locked on him, my body teasing him with every pulse of the dance music. Everyone else fell away, reduced to background noise.
And then he was moving, strong, purposeful strides onto the dance floor, never breaking our stare. Thick arms, heavy muscles, and still he moved with a grace that took my breath away.
I could feel my balance loosening, only saved by the constant shifting sway of my dance. My head felt light and dizzy, the room floating around me. I was drunk and a little buzzed from Ricky's second hand smoke, but I didn't care. If Haze wanted to watch me, wanted to judge me, the least I could do was give him something worth seeing.
I was dimly aware of the wanna-be agent trying to step between us, but Haze swept him aside with barely a look. The black-haired man blustered, but didn't make another move to help me.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Welch?” I asked, still dancing.
“You need some air.” His voice was rough.
One wide hand settled on the small of my back, and I was propelled off the dance floor and out onto the darkened driveway before I could register where I was going.
“I don't need fresh air,” I protested as the music faded behind us.
“I think you're too drunk to know what you want,” Haze said, his disappointment clear.
Fuck it.
“Or just drunk enough,” I said.
I turned and pushed myself up on my toes, kissing him.
He held me steady, his mouth searing hot against mine. It took me a few moments to realize he wasn't kissing me back. He stood without moving, not pushing me away, but not opening to let me in either.
What the hell was wrong with him?
“You can't tell me you haven't thought about this.” I ended the kiss but kept my lips close to his.
“I won't lie to you,” Haze said. His breath was hot against my mouth. “But I won't take advantage of you either.”
“You've thought about it,” I said and pressed my lips against his again.
He stayed firm for a moment, but then I felt his resolve give. His lips parted and I tasted his tongue. For one brief moment, I had him, and then his iron fingers pulled me back. Gently, but firmly, he set me further away from his body.
“You're drunk.” His voice was soft. “You don't want to do this.”
“What do you know about what I want?” I felt the wall inside me cracking as I snapped at him. My voice shook and I struggled to keep back the tears that wanted to come. I was tired of pretending. “You don't know me. You fucking left me in that hotel room without even telling me your real name. You just did whatever you wanted, so why shouldn't I?”
I thought he'd keep up the pretense, acting like he didn't remember.
“I had to leave, Leighton.” He pushed back a curl that'd escaped one of my clips. “I didn't have a choice.”
“But did you want to?”
It just slipped out and the painful truth of that question unsteadied me. His hands automatically came out to steady me, and I put my hands over his to keep them there. Heat rushed through my entire body and I felt him stiffen. I ran my hands softly down his hard forearms. He'd taken off his jacket at some point and the hairs on his arms bristled under my palms.
“Did you want to leave me?” I asked again, unable to look at him when I repeated myself.
There was a moment of silence before he finally answered.
“No,” he said softly. One hand slid up my neck and back through my hair to cup the back of my head. “No, Leighton, I didn't want to leave you.”
This time he initiated the kiss. The hand not holding my head moved to my back, pulling me more tightly against him. I gave myself over to the kiss as my body melted against his. He bent me back, devouring me, his tongue plunging deeply, stealing my breath and ratcheting my pulse even higher. A wave of safety and desire washed over me.
Then he was pulling away, his body rigid. His eyes were closed, the look on his face saying that he was fighting off something I couldn't see. Concern pushed aside my desire.
“Haze?” I asked, reaching up to touch his face.
He caught my wrist before I could make contact and his eyes opened. “Let me take you home.”
I smiled, leaning forward for another kiss. “Yes, please.”
“No.” His voice was firm again. “Let me take you home. You're drunk and you need to sober up before you do something you'll regret.”
I looked up into his eyes, but they were edged with something I didn't understand. Pity? Remorse? Whatever it was, my chest burned with the rejection, and I twisted my arm away from him as I took a step back.
I glared at him, letting anger overwhelm the hurt. “Fuck you.”
I spun around and nearly ran back to the party. I knew exactly what I wanted now.
It was easy to find Ricky. He stood in the middle of the open balcony doors with his arms wrapped around the bare shoulders of the two pop stars. One was nuzzling his neck and the other was rubbing against him like a cat in heat.
“Get rid of them,” I said, as I walked toward him. “If you still want me.”
His eyes glittered as he grinned at me. There was no doubt what he wanted. He immediately left them, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I made a mental note to make sure I didn't kiss him. My stomach clenched as Haze's kiss flashed into my mind.
I took Ricky's hand and wrapped his arm around my waist to rest his hand low on my stomach. I didn't want to think about Haze. I wanted to forget, and for once, I was going to use Ricky. I was going to use him to forget. I started toward the wing of private rooms on the other side of the dance floor.
“Wait for me,” Paris called out from off to the side. She stepped into our path, her dress riding up to show way too much.
“What do you say, babe?” Ricky whispered in my ear. “Can she come too?” He slid his hand lower as he asked.
“You have a choice right now.” I kept my voice even. “You get me or you get her. But if you choose her, I will take advantage of our open relationship.” I gave him a sensual smile that I knew didn't reach my eyes. “I doubt I'll have any problem finding a guy out there. Maybe two.”
I watched as my threat cut through the alcohol and drug-induced haze to register. His face darkened and the hand low on my hip flexed. “I don't think so.”
“Then make your choice.”
It took him all of three seconds to make his choice.
“You.”
“Leighton!” Paris screeched as we stepped
around her. “What's the matter with you?”
“Nothing,” I called over my shoulder. “Just taking what I want.”
Even as I said it, Haze appeared behind Paris, bypassing her even easier than Ricky and I had.
“Ms. Machus, I'm taking you home. Now.”
Ms. Machus again. I resisted the urge to repeat my previous sentiment to him. “Wait in the car,” I said instead. “I don't need you.”
“I can't do that and you know it,” Haze said, his tone flat.
I clenched my jaw. Before Haze could catch up to us, I pulled Ricky into a private room and locked the door behind us. It was a suite with a view over-looking the canyon. The deep slope was a dark abyss at night and a part of me appreciated the irony of looking at something that felt like my soul as I let Ricky push me up against the glass.
Distraction.
23
Leighton
Ricky's hands were clammy as they trailed up the sides of my thighs, dragging my dress with them. The caress still caused a damp rush, and I spread my legs an inch farther apart as I rested my forehead on the window. His fingers were long and delicate, but if I concentrated I could imagine they were Haze's strong, flexing hands. But did I want to imagine that Ricky was the man who'd left me, rejected me?
“I've missed you, babe,” Ricky slurred. “I know you don't believe me, but I have.”
“Shut up, Ricky,” I muttered.
I let my breath fog up the window, and for a moment I thought I saw Haze's charcoal gray shirt leaning down behind me. Ricky had shrugged off his white sports coat to reveal the dark blue shirt underneath. I squeezed my eyes shut, and concentrated on the squeezing caress of his hands along my ass.
Hot kisses dropped down my bare back, the low swooping neckline of the dress no barrier to his mouth. I concentrated on the physical sensations, forcing myself to ignore who it was behind me.
“Babe,” Ricky moaned, tucking one hand down the back of my black lace panties.
He rubbed his palm down over my ass, the friction making me warmer, wetter. Cupping me down low he slipped one finger between my legs.
“Is this what you want, babe?” he asked, teasing my hot, slick opening with his finger.
No, I thought. Yes.
My body was throbbing with desire, and I wanted to have sex with him. The only problem was my mind kept conjuring the image of Haze. I imagined him standing behind me, his hand pressed between my splayed legs, one strong arm clamped around my waist as he teased me until I begged for more.
No. I didn't want Haze. He didn't want me. Ricky was an ass, but he wanted me right now, and I wanted to forget that there was someone who didn't.
I moaned and slipped my dress from my shoulders. My nipples pressed against the cool glass, and I writhed under Ricky's exploring hand. He pushed his finger inside me, sliding it in and out. I pressed back against him, needing more.
“Damn, Leighton, slow down,” Ricky mumbled. “You're going to make me explode.”
He fumbled with his pants, struggling to open them one-handed and free his already throbbing erection. When he had to pull out and use his other hand, I squeezed my eyes shut and pictured Haze's rock hard chest. The Celtic sun tattoo around his nipple I'd watched as he first slid deep inside me. The way his muscles rippled under his tanned skin.
Ricky managed to undo his pants and slip my panties down far enough that I could shake them off one leg. I heard the familiar tear of a condom wrapper. At least he wasn't too drunk to remember that. After a moment, he reached around and cupped one breast. He braced the other hand against the glass window, and I felt his cock nudge against me.
I moaned, needing to feel him deep inside me, knowing it was the only way to find the release my body wanted. The only way to forget what had made me first feel this way.
He remembered what we'd had. He kissed me with the same heat I felt before, and then he rejected me. Again.
I didn't need Haze Welch.
“Oh, holy fuck, babe!” Ricky groaned as he thrust inside me.
The hand squeezing my breast slipped down to rest on my waist, the other still pressing to the glass to steady himself. I felt him pumping in and out, never quite reaching where I wanted, never touching the place I longed to feel again.
Ricky was sweating and swearing, about to come, and I tucked a hand down to pleasure myself, knowing I'd never come any other way. Resting my head on my forearm against the glass window, I rubbed my clitoris, stirring the pressure until I was ready to explode.
He came first, shuddering and jerking behind me, and it took everything I had to keep my balance, to keep my own rhythm until I pushed myself over the edge. I shuddered with pleasure, squeezing Ricky still inside me, and he collapsed against my back, pressing us both against the window.
“Oh, yeah,” he moaned. “I missed you, babe.”
Too bad I didn't feel the same.
24
Haze
The door was locked. Leighton had shut it in my face and locked it. I raised my fist to hammer on the door but didn't bring it down. It wasn't my place to judge her taste in men. It wasn't my job to stop her from having a private, consensual, moment with her boyfriend.
Ex-boyfriend, I thought. Leighton was too good for him and she knew it. She couldn't stay with him. Could she?
I paced the hallway and stopped in front of the door again. I could tell Devlin Pope I suspected Ricky of trying to give Leighton cocaine. Pot was one thing, coke was something else. Her grandfather would agree to me breaking down the door. I yanked my cell phone from my pocket and almost hit speed dial.
Then I heard the sounds coming from the room. They were unmistakable.
Ricky was slurring drunk, but his groans were enough for me to turn and swing at the hallway wall. I stopped my fist inches before smashing open a gaping hole.
“What, you're not going to peep in through the lock?” Paris asked from where she lounged against the corner, pretending she didn't care she had been left behind. Her eyes were bloodshot and she slid closer to me, using the wall for support.
“I bet if we go outside, we could watch through the window,” she grinned.
The sound of Leighton's moan made it clear that whatever was happening in there was definitely consensual. And I knew from our kiss that while she was drunk, she wasn't technically too far gone to say yes. I just apparently had higher standards than Ricky.
I still wanted to break down the door and drag her out of there.
Except, Leighton would never forgive me. I'd rejected her twice. Once when I'd left her in that hotel room, and a few minutes ago, when I told her she was too drunk. If I added breaking down a door and barging in on her and Ricky, she'd have just cause never to speak to me again. And I wasn't sure I could handle that.
My only solace was the sounds weren't long-lived. Once Paris shuffled away and things were relatively quiet, I waited for Leighton to come out. The minutes stretched into an hour and I paced, trying to figure out how to avoid stumbling over my words.
How could I tell her I'd left the first time to protect her? That I'd felt the connection between us and I'd known I couldn't go with my team into hostile territory and fight for months on end knowing I'd left her behind. I'd known that if I'd stayed, if I'd even seen her one more time, I'd be lost. I'd thought that making her hate me would hurt less than having her care about me and having something happen to me over there.
She'd never believe that. And it hadn't helped me at all. Every day I'd seen her. Every night, she'd slipped into some corner of my dreams. I'd hoped to make a clean break for myself too, but she'd already been a part of me. Even seeing her as she was, this vapid, self-absorbed princess hadn't changed anything.
Hours passed and the party ended. Guests were passed out here and there. The other private rooms taken and locked. I found a chair and placed it square across from the door, figuring I'd wait it out, but I couldn't sit for more than a few minutes at a time.
Her kiss had been like a life-g
iving jolt of adrenaline, reminding me of everything I'd walked away from. I marched up and down the hallway, trying to outpace my anger. Leighton would never believe that I hadn't rejected her. She'd never think that I was trying to do the right thing. Now, having seen her boyfriend up close, I realized she didn't recognize chivalry for what it was.
When I kissed Leighton and finally faced what I'd felt four years ago, I hadn't wanted to take things further until I knew for sure she was clear-headed enough to have this conversation.
An hour later, I settled on the chair and crossed my arms tightly across my chest. The sun would be up in an hour, and Leighton was sleeping off her hangover in someone else's luxury bed. If I hadn't sent her grandfather a message hours before, he would have worried about her all night. Leighton never thought about that. She was too selfish to realize the sleepless nights she caused people who cared for her.
People like her grandfather, her brother. Like me.
No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't push that truth away. I suspected Leighton would edge open that door at any time now and roll her eyes when she saw me. It wouldn't matter to her that I'd spent the night awake in the hallway. She'd never think to ask if I'd contacted her grandfather. All that mattered was her own little world.
A world where I was nothing more to her than a servant to be bossed around. To be used. It didn't matter how she'd looked at me that night, how I'd thought she felt. It was clear where my place was, and it wasn't with her. No matter how much I wanted to believe that what she said during that kiss had meant something, I knew it hadn't. Just like I didn't mean anything to her.
When the door finally opened and Leighton emerged, she didn't even acknowledge me. I followed her to the car and opened the passenger side door for her without a word. She slipped inside and dug out a dark pair of sunglasses. I shut the door, and in the short walk around to the driver's side I made a decision.
