Sticks (Black Addiction #2)

by T Gephart

  It was just Joey, I rationalized. Talking about his penis and sex was normal. Making me laugh like he always did. Ha. Ha. Ha. This was so not funny.

  “Dream on,” I responded between giggles. My hand locked to my side so I wouldn’t be tempted as my libido mocked me—the son-of-bitch determining now was a good time to come back online.

  “Joey, ten minutes,” a voice called from the distance. My silent thanks were offered to the owner of the mysterious voice and their random act of kindness. Their intervention saved me from making an ass of myself.

  “You going to stay after the show?” Joey raised a hand in the universal signal for hold-on, his attention not leaving me. “Hang out with us.”

  Not good, I didn’t need any extra encouragement.

  “Sure. Someone needs to keep you grounded.” I had no intention of going anywhere. Not sure I could at this point.

  “Good. I’m glad.” The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease, perhaps not expecting me to stay. “I need to go. See you later.”

  And with a wave he disappeared, dissolving into the crowd of people until I was left standing by myself.

  Panting.

  Like a moron.

  “Aww you guys are so cute, I threw up in my mouth a little bit.” Sara threw her arm around my shoulder and pulled me into a hug. Becca and Abbey returned as well, this time they had more drinks.

  Mentally I checked myself, shaking off the crazy as I concentrated on my friends and not the sexy drummer who’d just walked away.

  “I’m glad you swallowed. Spitting is for quitters.” I hugged Sara back, metaphorically getting back in the saddle.

  Becca laughed, handing me a second bottle of water. The first one only half consumed. “Thanks guys, like I don’t already need to pee every five minutes.”

  At least it might help put out the flames I had going on, the forced sobriety also contributing to my hands not doing what they wanted.

  “You need the hydration. It’s hot in here,” Becca answered, being serious for the first time since we arrived before giving me a wink. “We’ve got you.”

  Well. Shit.

  An entirely different emotion overwhelmed me as I looked at my three best friends.

  The act of caring done gently because they knew I hated when anyone made a fuss. A lump tightened in my throat as my eyes started to blink rapidly.

  “Don’t cry,” Sara warned, her finger pointed at me accusingly. “Your makeup is too perfect to be ruined by tears.”

  “Agreed.” I nodded, thankful for the mood swing but wondering if I would ever be off the hair-trigger I seemed to have.

  “Let’s all objectify Black Addiction instead.” Abbey nodded to the stage that had started to darken. The suggestion not needed, considering it had already been my plan. Hopefully the music would also offer a distraction, it sure as hell couldn’t get worse.

  “And heckle, because I’m jealous,” Becca added with a laugh.

  The overhead lights were killed as the crowd turned their attention forward. The only illumination coming from the spotlights mounted to the ceiling truss, showcasing the still empty stage.

  Other shows, other venues, usually had a build up. An Emcee who revved up the crowd or introduced the act. Sometimes a low-key intro thrown out by the DJ, but this place had none of those things.

  It didn’t matter if you were an ensemble or a soloist, you were expected to walk out, pick up your instrument and play.

  Like an audition.

  With Satan.

  I was terrified for them.

  My heart was in my throat as I watched them step on the stage, the nerves I felt obviously not shared by them as they readied themselves in their positions. Air popped as amps were turned on while the tap of Joey’s drumsticks echoed through the boom mic. And with a silent count-in, they exploded into their first song.

  Unlike a usual gig, the crowd didn’t immediately break into applause. Tonight they would have to earn every single cheer, clap and whoop they got.

  It didn’t take long.

  Slowly heads started nodding in time and bodies started to move. Next were the smiles, the noise building as Black Addition went seamless into the next song.

  No showboating. No ego. Just the music.

  Usually at gigs I focused on the guitarist, checking out their form and watching the magical dance of his or her fingers across the fret board. But tonight Rusty’s prowess wasn’t even a blip on my radar, my eyes locking on Joey.

  And that is pretty much where they stayed, watching as he played through the set, each movement of his hands sharp and deliberate. The crack of the snare harmonized with the ring of the hi-hat in a ballet of noise that drove the music.

  The pulse.

  The heart.

  The foundation.

  It was so fucking hot.

  Like a bear waking from hibernation, my skin tingled as the feeling spread through me. Different parts of my body checked in as the warm sensation tumbled over me in a hot wave.

  I don’t know why I hadn’t seen it before. Why I had blown him off as just a drummer while we were all musicians, but it was arrogant at best and completely ignorant at worst. He was sensational.

  I’d hoped the show would distract me from my earlier feelings—the ones where I wanted him to take me home and make sweet, sweet love—but watching him play only stoked those embers.

  “I hate to admit it but they are pretty good,” Sara shouted; the crowd louder and fully committed to the band on stage, the tide well and truly in their favor.

  “Agreed,” Becca shouted. “But if anyone tells them I said so, I’m denying it.” She smiled, her goodwill apparently only going so far.

  There really wasn’t much more talking. The noise both on and off the stage drowned out the opportunity, while the talent demanded attention. My appreciation went a little further as I strategically mentally categorized every inch of Joey’s body.

  Arms. Hot.

  Abs. Hot

  Chest. Hot.

  Okay, I’ll admit it wasn’t an adequate filing system but I was enjoying it.

  “Thanks everyone, you’ve been great.” Angie’s voice signaled the end of their show. The beaming smile she wore reflected in the faces of Max, Rusty and Joey as they left their instruments where they were and took a collective bow.

  The audience gave them their applause, as whistles and shouts of adulation welcomed them off stage.

  It was just the heat and the playing I rationalized, I was carried away by the excitement. This stupid feeling inside me would stop now the show was over. But it didn’t, the tug in my lower belly intensifying as I watched Joey climb off the stairs and mingle with the crowd. The need in me more than the high-fiving and hand shaking he was dishing out.

  I was so fucked.

  This is a really inconvenient time for me, body. Did you not get the memo? We are not sleeping with him. I tried to rationalize, but no one was listening.

  “Let’s go over and tell them they sucked.” Becca sighed, reminding me I wasn’t alone. She and I both knew she wasn’t that good an actress, but I wasn’t giving away a viable excuse to get closer. Because really, keeping away wasn’t an option.

  “I’m going to go find a bad decision to make.” Sara smiled at a tall, grungy-looking, dark-haired man who was strangely missing his shirt. “We don’t want Kenzie feeling lonely in her irresponsibility.”

  “Thanks, Sar. Just don’t be an over achiever.” I gave her arm a halfhearted squeeze as she headed like a heat-seeking missile in mystery man’s direction.

  Her departure gave me less of an audience, and I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or concerned she wouldn’t be around to stop me. Seemed like I had some bad decisions of my own I was contemplating.

  No. I can’t.

  Stay focused.

  Becca and Abbey decided against making their own bad decisions, instead following me to mine, the three of us heading to the bar where Black Addiction had stalled. Their progression any further
into the club stopped by the sea of people looking for face time. It was a good problem to have. Meant the chance of me doing anything stupid was minimized, there was no way I could be trusted.

  “So, tell me how awesome I was.” Joey grabbed me from behind, pulling me close to his body and squeezed. “How many times did you almost come? Be honest.”

  His hand on me was like a lightning rod, electrifying each nerve as he touched me. He had no idea what he had done. I swallowed hard as I begged my body not to betray me.

  “Not even once. You weren’t that great.” I lied as I feigned a yawn, praying to God he bought it. “Glad it’s over actually.”

  “Hmm.” He turned his head to the side as if to consider. His dark eyes smoldering as he looked into mine.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  Every part of me short-circuited as I focused on his face, completely distracted.

  Which is why I didn’t realize until it was too late that he’d moved closer, his lips covering mine as he sealed them in a kiss.

  Oh. My. God.

  Now I really couldn’t breathe.

  There would be no coming back from this.

  I didn’t care we were in public or that he hadn’t even asked to kiss me, his tongue teased through my lips as he explored my mouth. His hand cradled my head as he brought me closer, kissing me harder as every cell in my body exploded like a fourth of July firework.

  “So,” he whispered against my lips, separating his mouth from mine. “That’s what lies taste like.” He was unable to hide the satisfied grin as I blinked back in silence.

  Do. Not. Sleep. With. Him.

  My mouth opened and closed wordlessly, as I tried to think of something to say.

  Nope.

  Nothing.

  “Joey, don’t eat Kenzie.” Rusty thankfully broke my catatonic trance, giving Joey a stern look. “And it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.”

  “Kenzie, did he break you?” Becca asked concerned as to why I hadn’t taken a swing, either verbally or otherwise. I rarely let anyone have the last word, especially Joey. And I’d been doing so well. Did he really have to kiss me? He might as well have laid down naked and offered himself to me, because essentially that’s what the kiss felt like.

  “I need the bathroom,” I mumbled and turned before anyone had a chance to stop me. The bodies in front of me not making it easy for me to hurry the hell up.

  “Kenzie, wait.” I felt an arm stopping me and pulling me back. The bathroom door only a few feet away, and yet still too far.

  “It was a joke, I’m sorry.” Joey spun me around, his fingers wrapped tightly around my arm. No intention of letting me go. “You were supposed to tell me to go to hell, or go jerk off. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.” His face remorseful.

  Although I had torn out of there like a bat-out-of-hell, it hadn’t been my feelings that had been hurt, quite the opposite actually.

  I wanted that kiss, desperately. And what’s worse, I wanted it again.

  I was pissed off.

  At myself mostly.

  And at him too, for looking like that.

  “No, it’s fine,” I lied, trying to brush it off. “It was just the heat and then you were on me, I couldn’t breathe. I felt sick.” The only truth to that statement was I couldn’t inhale air, and that had nothing to do with the temperature.

  “You want me to take you home?” Joey’s hands didn’t move, locked on me as bodies bumped into us. Our presence not important to them other than we were currently in their way.

  “No. You should stay.” My head shook, hopefully convincing myself it was not a good idea. “I’m just not feeling great. I’ll get a cab.”

  “Like hell you are.” His tone sharpened, reinforcing he had no plans to slink off into the darkness like I so desperately wanted. “I’m not putting you in a cab when you just admitted you don’t feel well. Look, be pissed at me for being a dick but let me get you home.”

  Trouble.

  That’s exactly where this was heading.

  “Okay but if you kiss me again, I’m throwing up on you.” I summoned every ounce of bravado I had as I forced a smile, the crazed exaggerated grin hopefully far from sexy.

  “See, now that’s what I was expecting.” He gave me a hug and pulled me in closer. Not helping my brain screamed as I returned the hug.

  “Just let me tell Max what’s going down and we’ll get out of here. He’ll take care of my kit.” Joey grabbed my hand pulling me back in the direction of the bar.

  The opportunity for me to run came and went.

  It was too late now.

  Well done, Kenzie.

  Welcome to the dark side.

  I’d kissed her.

  It was exactly what I had wanted to do from the minute I saw her. Walking up to her and seeing her talking with Rusty was like a kick in the balls and not the kind she’d been threatening me with.

  Her hair hung loose around her shoulders like a golden mess of cotton candy, highlighting her bright blue eyes that refused to stay still. The hot pink lips also did me in, sending up a flare that if I didn’t kiss them tonight, someone else would.

  It was enough to drive me motherfucking insane.

  And that was just her face; her body was another story. That dress she was wearing had wrapped her curves like a sexy birthday present. Just begging to be unwrapped and there wasn’t a man alive who would have been able to resist. Well, certainly not this one.

  Not that my cock didn’t harden almost every time I saw her, but for the past few weeks I’d pushed all that aside and tried to be good. Not because I didn’t want her, but because I wanted it to be about her.

  I would have happily been used as an instrument of pleasure if she’d wanted it, fuck, even if she just needed me as a distraction. That’s how fucking far-gone I was. And I didn’t give a fuck how pussy whipped that made me sound, I welcomed it. Happy to give her whatever she needed.

  Tonight, however, I was a little ashamed to admit it wasn’t about her. She looked different, and it wasn’t just the clothes. Hell, I had no idea what it actually was, but I had used up my reserves of polite.

  In any case, playing nice wasn’t what I wanted to do. My adrenaline had already been jacked up just with the thought of being on stage, getting a look at her—the extra shot taking me into the danger zone. Sorry Goose, but it’s time to buzz the tower.

  I’d fucking given it a red-hot go at keeping it nice, moving the conversation along and tried to be my usual charming self. The to-and-fro with sexual banter was par for the course with us, so I had to throw that in there too. If I suddenly stopped talking like I usually did she would have immediately known something was up. Like hiding in plain sight, I kept the dick jokes coming and ignored that my own was as hard as stone.

  Great.

  Fucking.

  Plan.

  In an act of God—or possibly the Devil, I hadn’t decided which—I’d gotten the call to action to jump on stage and take care of business. You know, do what we’d actually come here to do. Which I did, walked away and sat behind my kit even though my primal instinct was to kiss her first. It was a feeling that overrode sanity and I knew if she happened to be sticking around after I got off stage, neither of us would stand a chance.

  So I let fate decide.

  And fate had fucking spoken.

  I took the chance the first opportunity I got and I didn’t even give a fuck I had to play it off as some kind of joke. However I got there didn’t matter, I claimed those lips like they’d always been mine, and kissed her so fierce there was no mistake about what I was doing.

  Unfortunately I had been the only one who’d felt it.

  I figured it could have gone two ways. She would either cuss me out and possibly take a swing, or she would take what I was offering and let the sexual healing commence.

  Neither of those things happened.

  Instead she stared back at me like I was the Apocalypse and his four horsemen, and then pulled a duck-and
-run.

  Kenzie never ran.

  Ever.

  So I knew that I’d fucked up, and I’d do whatever I needed to do make it right. The drive I’d offered her, the least I could do.

  She sat in silence, staring out the windshield at the road in front of us like it was suddenly going to start handing out divine guidance. With one hand in her lap, the other white knuckled the passenger door handle as she barely made eye contact the whole ride home.

  Answering every single one of my are you okay’s with a generic fine.

  I was such a dick.

  “You can yell at me if you want,” I offered, selfishly preferring her to call me a fucktard rather than sit there in further silence. The car eased into a parking spot in front of her apartment.

  “I don’t want to yell.” She stared out the window like she hadn’t realized we’d stopped moving. “I said I was fine.”

  “Let me get you in and settled then.” I opened the car door and ejected before she told me she didn’t want me to come in. The chance of leaving shit like it was, not an option.

  “This isn’t necessary.” She was out of the truck before I’d reached her side, my instincts fired up being so close.

  “Since when have I ever done what was necessary? Come on, Kenzie, you know I’m not a practical kind of guy.”

  No response.

  Nada.

  Zip.

  Instead she turned and trudged to her door, resigned that I was following her and pretending to ignore me.

  Not sure which was worse. The silence or the indifference. Both pissed me off as she opened her front door and walked inside like I was a ghost behind her. Her keys tossed on the side table, leaving me to close the front door as she disappeared down the hall.

  What the fuck? Was she avoiding me now?

  “You want some crackers or something?” I followed her into the bedroom ignoring the five hundred I’m-fines she had fed me since we’d left the bar. The offer of Saltines, partially because I knew they made her feel better and partially because I wasn’t letting this go.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Make that five hundred and one. She sat on the bed and kicked off her shoes, reaching down to rub her bare feet, the action of bending down treating me to a big eyeful of cleavage.