Caged Collection (Sixth Street Bands #1-5), page 108
Sliding my arms around him, my fingers threaded the soft strands at the back of his head, and I guided him to the crook of my neck. “Go,” I whispered, close to his ear.
And he did. Slow at first. Then faster. Harder. All the while, he spoke softly against my skin. And then his lips found mine, and our tongues joined the dance. The rhythm. The song. And when I toppled over the edge, Logan was right there with me. Ready to break my fall.
33
I stumbled out of bed with the ringing phone in my hand. Evening light poured through the window, the rays barely touching the tip of Tori’s exposed foot.
We’d spent all day in bed. Fucking. Eating. Talking.
Tori stirred, rolling onto her back with her eyes closed. And with the sheet tangled low on her hips, exposing her tits for me to feast on, I seriously considered letting my sister’s call go to voicemail. Fighting off the urge, I snatched my boxer briefs off the floor and headed for the bathroom. With one last look at the heaven I was leaving in the bed, I closed the door behind me.
“Hey, Laurel.”
“Lo. Where have you been?” Irritation threaded her tone equally. “I’ve called you three times.”
I took a seat on the edge of the tub. “Sorry, I was …” I drew a blank. Well, not really a blank since Tori’s fine ass popped into my head. But nothing I could share with Laurel. “Really tired. I was up all night.”
“You were partying … in Nashville? You hate Nashville.”
Not anymore.
“I’m not really in Nashville. I’m north of there at the Fontanel Inn. Ever heard of it?”
She snorted. “Of course I have. It’s a little rich for my blood.”
Biting my tongue, I stopped short of telling her I’d bring her here after the tour. Keeping Laurel out of Nashville was high on my list of priorities.
I grunted noncommittally, and she moved on. “Listen, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?”
“Yes” danced on the tip of my tongue. Then I thought about Jake.
“Depends.”
“Okay … I have a friend who lives there.” My back stiffened when I thought of all the “friends” who’d kept Laurel hidden during the months I was looking for her. “I used to sleep on her couch when Timmy … when he’d get mad at me.”
Timmy. The owner of the strip club where Laurel used to dance. He’d paid for every bruise he’d put on my sister with one of his teeth. Good times.
“Anyway,” Laurel went on, “she really wants to go to your show. Do you think, I mean, is there any way …?”
“I can get her tickets,” I said, digging my fingers into my eyes. “Text me her name, and I’ll pass it on. They’ll be waiting for her at Will Call.”
“Thanks, Lo.”
Silence swirled between us, the way it had every time we’d spoken since our fight. I was about to say my goodbyes and peace out the conversation when Laurel sighed. “Aren’t you even going to ask?”
I gnawed on my thumbnail, a habit I’d given up years ago after Jake slapped me in the head one too many times.
“Stop chewing your nails, boy. You nervous about something?”
Dragging my shoulders back, I glared at my reflection in the mirror. “Ask about what?”
I knew.
We both knew.
But the sooner my sister got it into her head that I’d never willingly inquire about Jake, the better.
“Dad.”
That single word set my teeth on edge. “Don’t have one, darlin’.”
“Why do you still hate him so much?” she hissed, her tone laced with venom. For me. Not the monster.
The truth lodged in my throat like a ball of cement. But after all these years, I couldn’t call it forth. And even if I could, Laurel wasn’t prepared to hear it.
“He’s a shitty person, Laurel. He doesn’t deserve your love.”
“Everybody deserves love, Logan. Even Daddy. Even me.” Her tone softened. “And especially you.”
She sounded so vulnerable, all the fight left me. “I love you, baby girl. Isn’t that enough?”
Her silence said it all. It wasn’t. My sister took love where she could get it. Even the bad kind. Because she had no self-esteem. And that was Jake’s fault too.
“I gotta go,” I said. “Text me your friend’s name. I’ll hook her up.”
I pressed end before she could reply.
At the sink, I ran a hand through my hair and splashed some water on my face.
Everyone deserves love.
“Yeah, right,” I mumbled to my reflection.
Shaking my head, I wandered back to the bedroom where I found Tori with her back propped against the headboard, staring out the window.
She whipped her gaze in my direction. “You’re here.”
For a moment, I didn’t move. “Yeah,” I said slowly as I walked to the bed. “Where else would I be?”
She looked down at her hands. “I don’t know. I thought you left.”
I stopped in my tracks. “Do you want me to go?”
After last night and today, I’d never thought about it. But obviously she had.
“Not at all.”
Relieved, I climbed onto the bed. Onto her. Nudging her legs apart, my lips found that spot on her neck that I loved. But she didn’t respond.
Tipping back, I looked down my nose at her. “What is it?”
Her lashes fluttered, a sure sign I wasn’t imagining things. Something was up.
“Was it good?” she asked in a small voice.
And I knew she couldn’t be talking about the sex. There was no way. But when she lifted her gaze, the doubt was there. How could she not know?
Sighing, I laced our fingers together and rolled onto my back. “Come here.”
She pulled a face. “I’m right here.”
I gave her hand a tug, and reluctantly she scooted down. When I shifted onto my side, she followed suit.
“How was it for you?” I asked, and surprisingly, I wasn’t entirely sure what her answer would be.
Maybe the metric ton of orgasms I coaxed from her body wasn’t enough.
A shy smile broke on her lips. “Good.”
Cocking a brow, I slid my hand to her ass. “Just good?”
“Really good.”
Slotting my leg between hers, I pulled her closer. Flush against me. Skin to skin. “What did you like the best?”
She pondered for a moment. “Promise you won’t laugh.” Right on cue, I did just that. She responded with a scowl. “I’m not telling you now, jackass.”
Heat flashed in her gaze, and not because I was rocking my leg against the warmth between her thighs.
“Come on.” I rocked a little harder. “Tell me.”
A sigh and a great big eye roll. “The kissing, all right?” After a long moment of stunned silence on my part, Tori tipped her chin stubbornly. “What did you like best?”
Her knees fell open when I eased her onto her back, and her soft thighs molded my ribs. “This.”
She looked disappointed. And honestly, I felt like a dick for lying. Or misdirecting. Because it wasn’t her pussy that I liked best. It was the feel of her legs around me. Her warmth. Everything. All the things.
Before Tori could pull the rest of the truth from me, I kissed her. Long, slow, and hungry.
She broke the connection and blinked up at me with hooded eyes. “Can I be on top?”
The words barely left her lips and I had her above me, straddling my waist. My hand came to rest on her hip, right over the braided skin, and dread swam up and clouded her pretty gaze.
“Is this hurting you?” Stupid question. Anything that had to do with the accident caused Tori pain. From her memories to her scars to the void that might never be filled. “Physically? This position?”
“No. I just … I didn’t realize you could see everything if I was like this.” Her shoulders sagged. “It’s not sexy.”
For all her confidence, and the girl had a bunch, it didn’t translate to whatever she saw in the mirror. What I saw when I looked at her.
“You’re sexy, Victoria.” Her eyes locked onto mine. Holding. Searching. “You think this—” I ran my thumb along the scar below her breast— “makes me want you less? You’re more than the fucking scars, baby. More than the stories they tell. You’re just …”
Everything.
She didn’t see it because her pieces were scattered. And one day when she was whole, this would probably be over. Until then, I’d take what she offered.
“I’m what?”
Twining a hand in her hair, I brought her lips to mine. “Perfect the way you are.” Snatching a condom from the nightstand, I winked at her. “Now ride me like it’s your fucking job.”
34
Logan stepped onto the private balcony, blue eyes roaming over me from tip to toe. Dressed for the gig tonight, he wore his favorite jeans—faded with holes in both knees—and a black T-shirt that fit like a second skin.
His hair had grown out since we started the tour and fell over his eyes, messy in all the right ways. And he hadn’t bothered to shave. All and all, he looked every inch the rock god. And suddenly, the thought of thousands of women checking him out did things to my stomach.
Bad things.
Painful things.
Dropping into the chair beside my lounger, Logan frowned as he continued his slow perusal of my body. Even though we’d been naked together for the majority of the last three days, this was different. Stretched out on my stomach under the unforgiving sun in just a bikini, I felt more exposed than I ever had when we were in bed.
I was about to sit up and pull on my robe when he said, “You’re going to burn, baby. How long have you been out here?”
I smiled. “Not long. And I won’t burn.”
He picked up my foot, and I almost purred as he began to rub small circles on my instep. “I’m not so sure about that. You look a little pink.”
My eyes drifted closed. “Trust me, I never burn. I’m half-Mexican.”
He stopped rubbing. “Really?”
“Um-hmm … on my mother’s side.” When he didn’t say anything, I twisted to look at him. “You seem surprised.”
And how could I blame him? My bronze glow had faded years ago. With the exception of my yearly trip to the Guadalupe River in the spring, I never got any sun.
“No, I can see it,” he said, returning to his task. “I was just thinking about Zoe. I assumed your mom was blond, since your sister’s so …”
He squirmed, and I smiled. “Fair?” If there was a politically correct term for “white,” that was it. But I hated mincing words. “Chalky? Pasty? Kind of like you?”
One brow quirked high. “I’m not chalky, princess.”
I laughed, resting my cheek on my folded arms. “Whatever you say. But … Zoe … she’s adopted. Kind of.”
“How is someone ‘kind of’ adopted?”
“She’s a foster child.” My tone turned wistful as I thought about my sister, the way she’d looked the first day I saw her. “She’s been with my parents since she was four. Courtney, her birth mother, is in prison, but,” I heaved a sigh, “she hasn’t given up her rights.”
Logan’s heavy gaze found mine. “Why?”
He’d done it again—unearthed something so personal. Without even trying.
“Because of me, I think. The first Damaged album hit right after Zoe was placed in my parents’ care. I’m not sure, but I think Courtney might be looking for a payday when she gets out.”
“And when will that be?”
“Soon. Trevor’s on it, though. He says we don’t have anything to worry about.”
But I was worried. And I think Logan sensed it. Because he didn’t say anything more.
After a long moment, I felt the cushion on my lounger dip when he dropped a knee onto the side.
“Come to the show tonight?” He tugged on the string holding my bikini bottom together and, sweeping the fabric aside, pressed a kiss to my ass cheek. “Please.”
“I don’t know.”
Slipping his hand around to my stomach, his fingers dipped lower, finding the slick heat between my thighs.
“Come …” he roughed out, nipping the back of my neck. “Can you?”
“To the show?”
He smiled against my skin. “Sure. That too.” Two fingers slid into my core, and he pumped hard, eliciting a harsh moan. “You look so fucking hot right now, Victoria.”
I loved the way he said my name. It sounded so sinful on his lips. But then I remembered where we were.
“What if someone sees us?” I panted.
“Nobody’s going to see us unless they have a helicopter.”
It sounded logical. And honestly, I was too far gone to argue. It was like all the years without sex had turned me into some wild thing. Or maybe it was Logan. I wanted him. All the time. His mouth. His fingers. His cock. His dirty words.
Lost to the rhythm, I squeezed my eyes shut, grinding mercilessly against his hand.
“Fuck … Lo … God … I’m going to come.”
His teeth grazed my earlobe, and I felt him smile. “So do it. Let me hear you.”
I flew apart, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer as he pressed open mouth kisses along my spine. Before the final spasm wracked my body, I heard his jeans slide down his hips, followed by the crinkle of the condom wrapper.
“Up, baby,” he rasped as he pulled me onto all fours. And then he was inside me, buried to the hilt. “Am I hurting you?”
Every time. He asked me that every time.
I pushed back against him. “No. Please …”
“Please what?” he growled. “Fuck you? Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
My eyes rolled back. “I do. Oh, God. I do.”
“Then say it.” I gasped when his hand came down on my left ass cheek. Not hard. Just enough to sting. “Say it, baby.”
“Fuck me, Lo … Please.”
He cursed and then pulled all the way out. Panicked, I whipped my head around.
Sunlight framed him, and I couldn’t make out his expression. But his voice was demanding. “Roll over.”
In this position, with my pussy bared to him, I couldn’t have been more exposed. Unless I was on my back. In the sun. With nowhere to hide. Gripping the towel beneath me, I did as he asked.
“Don’t hide from me, Victoria.”
It was a standoff. And one I couldn’t win. So I took a breath, and shoved the terry cloth aside.
He stepped out of his denim and then climbed on top of me.
“Why this way?” I asked as he pushed inside me again.
His lips ghosted mine, and he smiled. “Didn’t you say kissing was the best part?”
35
Security met me in the parking lot at the venue. Before I’d made it two steps, Elise shouldered her way into the wall of flesh surrounding me.
“You missed the pre-show press conference,” she accused as we shuffled toward the tents.
“Traffic.”
And Tori. Between the fucking and the shower that followed, I’d kept the driver waiting for almost an hour.
“The driver said—”
“Traffic,” I repeated, and when I cut my gaze her way, she pressed her lips into a firm line.
I wasn’t in the best mood. Tori had refused to come to the show. And while I couldn’t blame her—we were less than a week from the tabloid incident, and the press still hadn’t let it go—I wanted her here.
Head in the game.
Taking my own advice, I pulled my shoulders back. “I’ll do an extra couple of interviews in New York,” I said as we reached the barricades. “Set them up.”
Elise rolled her eyes. “Because there’s going to be so much press coverage in the Catskills?”
Busted. Our next stop was upstate New York. Remote, with a laid-back vibe. The kind of place I used to hate.
I smiled. “Hey, I offered. If you line something up, I’m there.”
Otherwise it was long mountain drives. Picnics. And as much sex as I could talk Tori into.
Fuck, I had it bad. The “it” everyone always talked about.
I’d been inside Tori’s body over a dozen times in the past three days. And no matter what the tabloids claimed from the women who’d shared my bed, that was a lot. And yet, the mere thought of Tori made me hard, left me wanting. Because I did want her. Every soft piece. Every slick hole. All of it.
Elise mumbled a goodbye, heading in the other direction when we got to the media tent. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, it didn’t strike me as odd that no voices rang from inside the canvas cocoon.
“The prodigal son returns,” Cameron said as I pushed my way through the flap.
I smiled, genuinely happy to see him. It felt like we hadn’t spoken in … shit … I wasn’t sure how long.
Maybe going in for a bro hug was overkill, but I would’ve done it. Except for the look on his face that said, “try it and you might lose a limb.”
He was pissed. Pissed enough to make sure that whatever he had to say wouldn’t be overheard. Because we were alone. Really alone. No Sean or Christian. No roadies or security. And since there were enough people roaming around outside to fill two stadiums, that couldn’t be an accident.
Treading lightly, I closed the distance between us and shrugged off my backpack.
“Dude,” I said, hand on my heart as I smiled down at him. “This is really romantic. But I hope you’re not planning on proposing. Because, you know, I don’t like you in that way. But we can still be friends, right?”
Cameron’s hazel eyes flared, but I thought I detected a little amusement. “Sit down, jackass.”
I flopped into the chair, still smiling. “What’s up?”
Cameron tipped forward. “Really?” he hissed. “You begged off rehearsal yesterday. You didn’t show up one time to the hotel to go over the new arrangements I’m working on. You haven’t returned my fucking calls … and you’re asking me what’s up?”
I scratched the back of my neck, “Yeah … well …”
My lungs refused to expel enough air to push out any excuses. Because I had none. I’d called off band practice yesterday because I didn’t feel like going. But I couldn’t tell Cameron that. I couldn’t tell him anything. If he was pissed now, finding out about my fling with Tori would send him straight into orbit.
