Be Your Savior: The Be Yours Trilogy #2

by Fox, Lizzie

  I snorted to myself. The songs hadn’t even been finished and already I was dreading Seth being gone on an imaginary tour that hadn’t happened yet. I tried to push the thought aside, when suddenly one of the girls across the courtyard shrieked.

  “Oh my god, did you know Miles Madison is supposed to be in town?” One asked; a tall brunette with big breasts.

  “He’s so fucking hot,” a blonde echoed.

  “Did you see his Chirper? He posted a clip of a new song they’re recording—my god please tell me who this hottie is that he’s with?” Another blonde asked, thrusting her phone in the brunette’s face.

  One of my brows immediately flew up, as the brunette made a sultry noise. “Damn, he is fine.”

  “Oh, I know who that is. Archer something… he’s engaged though. But I mean… come on. He could do better than that. Look… there’s pictures of him on his band’s page. He’s so fine and she’s kinda… bleh.” A black-haired woman said, looking up from her phone, and my heart sank.

  “Guys, that’s fucking mean. She’s really pretty and they look happy,” a redheaded woman insisted, and someone snickered at her.

  “That’s just ‘cause she’s your type, Carrie.”

  “So? Still…”

  Well, thank you, Carrie… I thought, but felt vindicated when a server came up to them asking if they wanted anything, and they lamented over the cost of everything. Smugly, I took another long sip of my expensive drink, silently willing for them to eat their hearts out and enjoying how the buzz of the alcohol was dulling my sudden insecurities. This is what I’d have to face if Seth made it big. The thought weighted my heart down to my stomach like an anchor. This was going to require much, much more tequila…

  24

  Seth

  Running my hands through my hair as I leaned forward in the chair I sat in, I grumbled quietly to myself. I’d enjoyed recording and everything, but it neared midnight and not only was I getting exhausted, but I was missing a dose of medication, and I really needed to leave. It sucked that so much of my life revolved around prescriptions but—it was what it was.

  Really, the day had been a blast. Miles was actually hilarious and a lot of fun, but not someone I could hang around with every day. He was definitely big on flirting, and every time his manager or one of the assistants to the studio came in, he was shameless. I don’t think he quite got the idea that I was engaged and not interested. Thankfully, the women were all nice when I told them and got the hint. Miles was definitely a womanizer, though.

  Aside from that I had to admit there was a certain thrill knowing how many artists had probably come through here, besides just Miles. Milwaukee wasn’t exactly well known for big music, but he insisted quite a few people had been through here on their way to the top. And using the expensive Fender-Stratocaster guitar was surely a damn wet dream. I’d never played so well, and I was pretty sure it was all because of that damned instrument that probably cost more than my car.

  We still had another thirty minutes or so, but I was about ready just to call it. We’d actually gotten through the first song and had made a dent in the second. I was having a bit more trouble with it since I wasn’t as used to singing pop, but Miles assured me that I was doing fine. I was just getting tired. And, starting to be worried that I’d missed meds; I didn’t want to have a relapse, nor did I want to have to admit that I needed to leave for that reason. Also because I felt bad leaving Jessie alone all day. If I had known it’d been like this, I never would have brought her along. She probably would have had much more fun with Shane instead of being here.

  Mindlessly, I grabbed my cell phone out of my pocket and cringed again; 11:59 PM. Miles and Chris Davenport—part of the band—were discussing tempo issues and I should have been paying attention, but I was fading fast. I slid open the display with my thumb and smirked to myself at the selfie Jessie had sent me earlier I’d requested. I shifted uncomfortably in the chair; she was so damned hot with that bikini top. It hugged her soft breasts and shoved them together nicely, and the color just looked amazing against her skin. In the sunlight she almost seemed to glow—or maybe that was just me thinking that.

  Suddenly, I stood. “Hey, man…I really need to get going. I’ve been gone all day, and I’m really getting wiped,” I insisted, which was true. But also my cock straining against the zipper of my jeans reminded me of another reason to get the hell out of here. I’d been working long enough. It was time.

  Miles waved his hand at Chris, and the music stopped. “Everything okay?” he asked, and I nodded insistently.

  “Oh yeah. Just not so used to working this long, you know?” I said with an uneasy chuckle. “I think I’m getting old or something.” And actually compared to Miles, I was older…I think he was barely twenty-four. I just felt like I was in a different universe sometimes.

  “Aw man you’re not old,” he replied with a laugh. “But you’re right, it is late for this. I have some other…places to be if you know what I mean,” he said with a waggle of his brow. I forced a knowing smile as he crossed the studio and clapped his hand on the side of my arm. “You’re—whoa, dude… that’s your girl?” He peered over me, to the photo I still had up. Blushing, I quickly clicked out of it, not sure if Jessie would be comfortable with Miles seeing her in her swimsuit. I didn’t mind—hell I’d proudly show her off because she was beautiful and sexy and mine—but I knew she was uneasy with that stuff.

  “Uh, yeah. She was down by the pool,” I explained.

  “Spa day went well then?” Miles asked, and I shrugged.

  “I guess so. She said she ate well and felt good and the pool was nice so…hopefully so,” I said.

  “I can see why you’re so eager to get the hell out of here, Archer. I would be too if that was waiting for me,” Miles insisted, and I grinned despite myself. “She hides a lot under those damn clothes, it’s a shame because she’s really damned hot.”

  “Yeah, I think so too,” I replied in agreement. I shoved the phone in my pocket and reached back for the Fender that was behind me, resting on the chair nearby. “Here…thanks for letting me use it.”

  Miles waved me off. “Dude, it’s yours. Enjoy. Just a thank you.”

  “Are… you serious?!” I asked, dumbfounded, glancing down at the insanely expensive black instrument.

  He nodded. “Of course. That’s what I bought it for.”

  I shook my head in awe. “Jesus, man… thank you.”

  Miles chuckled casually. “I prefer ‘Miles’ but I suppose Jesus works too.”

  Scoffing, I grinned and rolled my eyes.

  “Well your ride should be waiting for you, have a good night, man. I’ll see you at around 10AM tomorrow? Is that okay? Did you consider if you want to do the show with me?”

  “Um…” I hesitated, scrubbing a hand nervously over my face. Miles suddenly gripped it, cocking a brow at me.

  “Did you seriously ink your woman’s name on your hand?”

  “Yeah?” My eyes narrowed, and I started to feel a bit defensive. “I don’t always like wearing rings, so I figured this was next best thing.”

  “Damn. You really are a family man. I need to keep you around, I have a bit of an asshole image,” Miles said, laughing. “You might be able to help soften it.”

  I tipped my head back and laughed. “Not sure about that. I mean I am a hardened criminal.”

  “Yeah, right!” He said with a snort. I shrugged nonchalantly in reply. “About the show?”

  “Yeah…I think I can do it. Sounds like fun,” I agreed reluctantly.

  “Great! See you tomorrow?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, tomorrow.” We shook hands briefly, and Miles patted my shoulder as I gripped the neck of the guitar and made my way through the studio to a car that waited for me outside for the ten-minute drive back to the hotel.

  I could barely get out of the car or up to the suite fast enough, and the blood started rushing in my ears and my heart raced, thinking about who was waiting for me on th
e other side of the door. I hoped I’d always get this excited to see her, especially after a long day of working. Damn, didn’t that sound domestic as hell? It did… and I liked it.

  I opened the door quickly and breathed a sigh of relief. The living area was empty, though there was a handful of glasses left out on the counter that Jessie probably left behind. She must have been in the bedroom, and that’s exactly where I found her. She was sprawled across the bed, a white, silk robe wrapped around her curvy frame that came down just to her thighs. Her skin looked soft and supple and suddenly I just yearned like hell to touch it. I set the guitar by the bed and crawled onto the bed beside her, brushing the hair out of her face and over her ear.

  She stirred gently and let out a quiet, little, contented noise as her big, green eyes slowly opened up, and a smile appeared on her face when she saw me. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” I greeted in return, as I drank in her pretty face. She rolled until she was on her side, the neck of the robe opened some, exposing her bare skin and the bikini she still wore. My breath hitched as I reached out to drag my fingers along the seam of the top, grazing over one of her breasts. Her lip caught in her teeth as she grinned up at me. “I’m sorry it took so long. I didn’t mean to leave you here by yourself.”

  “It’ssokay,” she replied, slurring slightly and smiled lazily. “I kept myself occupado while you were gone, really.”

  I fought the urge to frown. “Honey… are you drunk?”

  She snorted dismissively. “No way. I had a few, but I figured Miles owed me, keeping you all day so hell, I enjoyed.”

  I smirked. She was right, she was entitled to enjoy and imbibe some. Though… reluctantly, thoughts of Adam’s words during our confrontation ran through my mind…

  She’s an alcoholic, you know.

  I pushed them out of my mind. He was full of shit. There was nothing wrong with enjoying a few drinks… something I had to sometimes remind myself. Jessie was nothing like my father; she didn’t drink and turn mean. It relaxed and made her happy. So… yeah it was no biggie.

  “Did you buy the robe, too?” I asked, gently running my fingers over the silky seam.

  She shook her head. “No, I borrowed it from the pool house place… spa…thing. Said I could keep it. Well, okay then!”

  Chuckling, I reached out and pulled her against me, and she came, but awkwardly with jerky movements. “Are you still wearing the swimsuit? You weren’t waiting for me huh?”

  She shook her head vigorously. “Nooo… course not. That’d be silly. Just because I was expecting you to finish like two hours ago.” She scowled a little, sticking her tongue out at me. I covered my smirk with the back of my hand, not wanting to irritate her more than I already had by being late. “I thought about going back to the pool, but I noticed that…stuff in the cabinet and figured I’d just stay here and watch TV or something. Guess I forgot to change,” she said, glancing down at herself.

  I cocked a brow. “Forgot to turn on the TV, too.”

  “Hell, I knew it was quiet in here…” she murmured, shaking her head.

  “I’m sorry, honey,” I said, stroking her hair as I held her against me, concentrating on willing my damn dick to calm the fuck down. She was drunk—or at least well on her way back from it—so now wasn’t the time. I was disappointed, but it was my own damned fault. “Things were just going really well. I figured if we finished early we could go home. Nice as this place is, I’d rather be with you at home.”

  “But this place has all the good stuff!”

  “Well…” I smirked, glancing down her robe as her upper half was nearly all the way exposed. “It does have some nice stuff, that’s for sure.”

  She grinned lopsidedly; it was half seductive and half silly at the same time. “Are you checking me out?” She demanded, raising a hand and trailing a finger down my jaw.

  “I’m always checking you out, dammit. I thought you knew that?”

  She shrugged. “Nice to hear though.” Her tone quieted, indicating that something, somehow was on her mind. Sighing, she shifted against me, and I was about to inquire when she sat up ramrod straight suddenly. “What is that?” She demanded, pointing to the guitar.

  “Oh.” I smiled widely, leaning over so I could grab and show it to her. “It’s a fucking Fender-Strat. Miles bought it for me.”

  Her mouth dropped open as she gingerly stretched out to touch it. “Really?” She frowned severely. “Well, that sucks.”

  I blanched, confused. “Sucks? Why does that suck?”

  “Because, I—” She began and clamped her mouth promptly shut. “Eh, nevermind. You like it?”

  “It’s amazing, actually. I never thought I’d own one of these,” I said. “It’s like the equivalent of you wanting those red-bottomed shoes you like so much.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Yeah? Lucky you…”

  “Eh, it’s just a guitar. So you enjoyed the spa?” I asked, when I noticed she’d grown heavy against me. I tipped her chin upward with a crook of my finger and noticed she’d passed out. Sighing, I shook my head and moved her carefully to the head of the bed, adjusting the robe over her and pulling the blankets up to her arms. I shook off my jeans and t-shirt and was about to slide into bed myself before I remembered I needed to take my meds. I had left them on the counter in the kitchenette, so I headed over there to take them. Frowning, I immediately noticed the empty liquor bottles in the kitchen sink. They were small little “sample” sized bottles… but there were a lot of them. Upon further inspection I noticed light lip print smudges on the sides of several glasses. Even when she didn’t wear lipstick, Jessie always wore some sort of fruity balm on her lips, and it’d smeared over the glasses. So, I knew they were hers—not that they’d be anyone else’s because there was no one else here. She must have had at least four drinks here—each bottle was just a little more than a drink’s worth, I assumed—plus whatever she had at the spa? Grimacing, I lifted one of the glasses and smelled it. Yeah, sure enough it still smelled like alcohol. How much did she have to drink? This was more than a little imbibing…

  I supposed it wasn’t totally unusual—I did have a girlfriend years ago for a short time in our short relationship that got drunk every week, and after all this time it’d been what? Three times now? That wasn’t enough to be considered a problem. I didn’t think.

  You’re just being paranoid, idiot, because your dad drank. Jessie is nothing like that, I told myself. Still, Adam’s words rang over and over in my head. It was such a specific thing to say… why say that?

  I set the glass down and headed back for the bedroom. Jessie had shifted and was on her back now, and I curled myself around her, wishing she was awake, so I could ask her about it. That might not be a good idea, though. She might get mad at the insinuation. But…why? Unless she had something to hide.

  Alcoholics hid their consumption, right? It’s more of a frequent thing. I thought. I guessed I didn’t know. My father never hid his, but there was no way he could. He was drunk twenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five. How he didn’t die from alcohol poisoning, I’d never know.

  “You’re just being paranoid…there’s no issue,” I assured myself under my breath. I just hoped I was right…

  25

  Jessalie

  Now I could wake up to this every damned morning.

  In my deep slumber, Seth took it upon himself to crawl over me, and I’d awoken with him nibbling gently on my neck. Still relaxed from the buzz of the alcohol the night before, it really didn’t take much to get me going, and within minutes I was writhing under his body, begging for more.

  “I need to make it up to you. I’m sorry I left you so long yesterday,” Seth peered up at me from over my stomach with a pouty frown. I cocked a brow and swallowed the disgusting cotton-mouth feeling I had and replied.

  “Seth, it’s okay, really. I had a fine day, I just missed you,” I insisted.

  “Aw, I’m sorry,” he replied earnestly, a playfulness shimmering in those damn
sexy, honey-colored eyes of his as he gently pried my legs apart and slid his hand over the slick folds that had already begun to pulse gently with need from being pinned under him. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

  “Seth, you don’t have to— oh god…” He tugged my panties aside—no wait, I was still wearing my bikini from yesterday?—and slid a masterful finger over my clit, concentrating on the tense bud just before he crawled down my body. His tongue and lips skirted over my belly button, before sinking lower and finding my waiting core. My entire body pulsed and flushed with desire, and watching his gorgeous eyes look up at me from between my legs was just about enough to make me come totally undone.

  I didn’t know what it was about him, but he always made me feel so damned good. Blake was amazing in bed, but Seth was something else entirely. Perhaps it was because we were older and more experienced, perhaps it was just our “connection” or a combination of both, but we burned up the sheets whenever we made love, and I couldn’t get enough. Even in my semi-hungover state, I felt on top of the world.

  Seth’s long fingers plunged inside me and I tensed, bucking against his hand and moaning loudly. My arms flew out to my sides and clawed handfuls of the sheets under us. “Oh damn, Seth…” He cackled gently, knowing that I was close when he picked up the pace, and I started to shiver and shatter around his hand and mouth, digging my hands into his hair and rocking against him as I cried out.

  “Better now?” He asked expectantly, crawling on hands and knees up my body, keeping his legs kicked on either side of me to prevent crushing me with his weight. He leaned in and kissed the corner of my mouth, knowing how paranoid it made me to kiss first thing in the morning because of bad breath. He always said he didn’t care, but I still insisted on waiting. It was silly, I supposed.