Blaze: Underground Encounters 6

by Carlisle, Lisa

  “Let’s not talk about that now. It’s been a long night. Why don’t we get some sleep?”

  Ally

  I woke up to the smell of fried bacon and eggs and brewing coffee. Glancing around the room, I saw a Lord of the Rings boxed set and remembered I was at Mike’s place. Events of the night crashed into my brain. Starting with the incident in the club, it culminated in phenomenal sex in his house. As I pulled the comforter up to my neck and rolled on his pillow, I inhaled his scent.

  Damn it. Despite how I tried to keep an emotional distance, my inability to resist his charms undid me. I’d told myself we could be friends with benefits, but that would definitely implode. I liked him too much to put up an emotional distance.

  But, I didn’t have the “bandwidth,” as he would say, for anything more complicated.

  After freshening up in the bathroom, I scanned the floor for my clothes and remembered they were still in a heap on his living room floor. One of his white button-down shirts lay on a chair so I put it on, leaving the top two buttons undone. When I walked into the kitchen area, Mike stood in front of a skillet with a spatula in hand. Bare-chested, wearing only a pair of blue plaid flannel pajama bottoms. My eyes scanned the contours of his broad back.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  He turned to me and said, “Good morning, beautiful.” His mouth dropped. His hair was even messier than usual, giving him a youthful, playful look. “Wow. I never knew my shirt could look that sexy.” He dropped the spatula onto a plate. “I was going to suggest breakfast, but now I’m hungry for something else.”

  He prowled over with a predatory glint in his eye and kissed me on the lips. “How about a proper good morning greeting?” he proposed.

  My reservations slipped away. They often did around him. He had this spell that enraptured me, turning me into a sex kitten intoxicated by catnip.

  I raised a brow. “I’d like to see what you mean by that.”

  He lifted me up and I squealed as I wrapped my legs around his waist and he backed me onto the counter.

  “I’m glad I haven’t opened the shades yet,” he murmured.

  His mouth tasted clean and fresh, like minty toothpaste. The scents of the tantalizing breakfast he was preparing surrounding us.

  He unbuttoned two more buttons and growled, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. What a vision to start the day.”

  The words brought a reminder of the sadness to me. As hot as we were right now, it would inevitably burn out. But I could dwell on that fact later, now I leaned back as his tongue swirled circles along my neck and down over my breasts. His fingers soon found their way inside me.

  “Mmm,” he growled. “You’re already so wet, so hot. Are you always this ready?”

  “Only for you.” I bit my lip to shut myself up. What was I thinking? I had no business saying things like that, leading him on.

  “Yeah, baby. You get me so hot, too. Like nobody else.”

  He was just saying that in the moment, I told myself. He probably said it to a dozen different women. That’s what guys in bands do. That’s what my ex did, too. Words, just words to get what he wanted. It didn’t matter who he hurt.

  Especially me.

  My defensive rationalizations faded as Mike’s hands commanded my attention. The way he stroked me so expertly, made me think I’d come on his kitchen counter in no time at all.

  The scent of smoke filled the air. I opened my eyes. “The stove!”

  “What?” He appeared as dazed as I was, lost in the ecstasy of the moment.

  “Everything’s burning.”

  “Oh shit!” He rushed away to turn the burner off and turn on the fan. The smoke drifted through the kitchen. He opened a window and fanned the smoke out with a dishcloth, and then he lowered the wood blinds again for privacy, but left a gap open to allow the smoke to escape. “Sorry, babe. I don’t want to set off the smoke detectors.”

  The cool morning air hit me, but I was so hot and turned on, it felt refreshing. “It’s okay, it feels good.”

  He positioned himself between my legs again and smiled with mischief. “Now, where were we?”

  “You were about to drop your pants,” I tugged down the back of them and covered the warm curves of his rear. “And fuck me on your counter.”

  “Oh yes.” He grinned. “You read my mind.”

  He removed his pajama bottoms and his freed cock jutted forth erect and ready. He rubbed the head against my folds and I grasped his shoulder blades.

  Then I remembered. “Condom.”

  “Don’t move.” He left the kitchen.

  I touched myself while I waited for him. He returned moments later and rolled a condom over his shaft.

  “Ready for me?” He crooned into my ear, sending tingles throughout my body.

  “Yes.” My voice dropped to almost a whisper.

  He pushed the head in and stretched me. I moaned, clinging on to him. He slid the rest of the way in, and I gripped the edge of the counter for support.

  He drilled into me and I wrapped my legs tightly around him.

  “I love how you do that. Like you’re claiming me.”

  Interesting. Maybe I was in a way.

  He pounded into me and I held on. Then he lifted me off the counter and carried me out of the kitchen.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Back to bed. There’s more I want to do with you in there.”

  Mike made good on his promise. After we were sated and spent, we returned to the kitchen and he resumed making breakfast. I poured us two mugs of coffee, laughing at the ones I’d pulled out—a Hobbit and a Game of Thrones one. So Mike.

  Carrying our breakfast to the dining room, I sat across from him and took a bite of the eggs. “These are very good.”

  “You seem surprised.”

  “I’m not used to guys who know how to cook.”

  “It’s only eggs. Anyone can make them. Now if you want a meal, I do cook a mean chicken marsala.”

  That one sentence both set my pulse racing and raised warning flags. The idea of spending another evening with him when he cooked dinner was so appealing, and that was the problem. The way it excited me could only lead to eventual heartache and pain.

  I changed the subject. “Crazy night, huh?”

  He glanced at me. “Un-freaking-real.”

  “How are you feeling? You must be sore. And you were pretty freaked out last night.”

  Mike’s brows furrowed. “I thought I’d feel like hell today, all bruised up and shit. But, I feel fine. Even the scratches healed.” Then he grinned. “Maybe you used sex magic to heal me.”

  “That would be an interesting ability,” I teased. “I could teach classes at the studio.”

  I ate a bite of eggs and bacon, washing it down with the coffee.

  “What are you doing today?” he asked, stabbing some eggs with his fork.

  “I have to go to the studio. Take care of things.”

  “Call me if you need help with the software. It may seem intimidating at first, but most designers tend to batch similar actions in the same area making it easier to figure things out from one program to the next.”

  “I’m sure I will be calling you.” I sat up straighter and smiled. “I’m nowhere as good at computers as you are.”

  After he finished eating some eggs, he said. “I’ve worked with people who don’t know computers—even those in the industry. Trust me you’re better than you think. Pretty soon you’ll get used to the software and use it to run almost everything in your business.”

  “If that’s the case, then I owe you. A lot. Thank you again. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

  As we finished our breakfast, I leaned back to sip the coffee and scanned the dining room with its small table and piano. “I admire how you’ve done all this.”

  “Done what?” He appeared perplexed.

  “You’re so young. What are you, late 20s?”

  He nodded.

  “And you hav
e your shit together. You have everything anyone would ever want.”

  A shadow fell across his face and his hazel eyes darkened.

  “What is it?” I asked, both curious and afraid of the answer.

  He leaned back and watched me. “I think about you a lot.”

  I think about you, too.

  “It’s just an infatuation,” I said with a carefree wave. “Pretty soon you’ll find someone else to distract you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because. It’s just sex.”

  “Is that all it is?” His eyes darkened, probing me.

  “It’s all it can be.”

  “Why?” His brows tightened and worry lines appeared on his forehead.

  “You’re you. You have many women in your life. But I’m not the kind of woman who can be one of many.”

  He took a moment to appraise me. “Is that the issue? Or is there something else?”

  “Well,” I added. “We’re too different.”

  “Like what?”

  “You’re a ridiculously smart and successful. You have your own house with a mortgage and everything and you started a rock band for fun, only it’s grown extremely popular.” I took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m in a different place in my life, struggling to start a business and terrified of failing miserably.”

  “You’re scared and that’s normal.” He squeezed my hand. “Any time you take a risk it’s scary. Even doing the things you mentioned—the house, the band—you don’t know how many doubts I had that kept me awake at night. But you’re willing to take that risk and that means you’re driven. I like that about you.”

  A glint of admiration flickered in his eyes, warming me.

  “You want more out of life and are willing to work hard for it, instead of sitting back and coasting by,” he said.

  All my insecurities emerged from the deep recesses I’d buried them. “I don’t understand why I’m here. You’ve already slept with me. There were plenty of other women at the show who would have gladly come home with you.”

  He focused on his coffee mug and when I saw how tightly he clutched it, I figured I hit a nerve.

  His hazel eyes bore into mine. “I don’t understand everything myself. You don’t think I spend half of every day trying to figure it out? I’ve never felt this way about someone, the way I do about you. I’m just as scared as you right now, but for a different reason. I’m terrified about how strong my feelings are. And that the more I pursue you, the more you’ll run away.”

  I wanted to jump across the table and say, ‘To hell with it all, let’s give it a shot.’ But no, I couldn’t set myself up for heartbreak while trying to get my professional life in order. I should insist on keeping him at an arm’s length.

  “Why don’t we give us a chance, Allana?” he said. “See what happens.”

  My mind and body warred with his proposition. Several months ago, I might have jumped at the chance at a fling with Chee Keydood, the hot guitarist I crushed on. But, he wanted more than a fling and it was too risky.

  His hazel eyes contained such sadness and hope, which made them appear even deeper and more soulful. No wonder women couldn’t resist him. I found it almost impossible to tear myself away. Every part of me wanted to rush into his arms, kiss him all over and breathe him in.

  I should just go for it. Take the leap. What was the worst that could happen?

  I’d get my heart broken and crumble. And be devastated even more than when my ex had screwed me over. Because this time, I’d have jumped in knowing the risks.

  I took a deep breath, filled myself with resolve and said, “No. I can’t.”

  He slammed his mug on the table and coffee splashed. I jumped back.

  “What the hell, Allana? I spill my guts to you and this is what I get? Just a plain cold No?” His eyes now gleamed with icy contempt.

  “I’m sorry. I have to go.” Tears stung my eyes as I stood up. Where were my damn clothes? I had to get out of there as soon as possible before I bawled and caved.

  He followed me through the house. “Maybe I was wrong about you after all. You just came here for the sex.”

  I winced as his words tore through me, in part because what he was saying was true. Finding my clothes, I headed into the bathroom.

  “Well, I hope I left you satisfied.” The fury in his voice sliced through the bathroom door. “You got any friends who want to bang a rock star, send them my way. Maybe even give me a good referral.”

  Ugh, I could see his point. The way I’d behaved was like I had just used him for sex. Even though my feelings had grown stronger, that’s the way I’d come off. I finished dressing and threw open the door.

  “Don’t be a dick. I said I was sorry!” I found my boots and coat and rushed to get them on.

  “You’re playing games with me. You always have. Either hot for me or think I’m an asshole.” He spread his arms to the sides with a bewildered expression. “What the fuck, Allana?”

  “What the fuck?” I repeated. “I’m not playing games. I was straight with you since New Year’s Eve. It could only be sex, not a relationship.”

  “Why? Did some guy hurt you?” My expression must have answered for me as he continued. “Whoever he was, it’s not me. Have I ever given you any indication that I would hurt you?” Unsure how to answer, I didn’t say anything. “Almost everyone’s been burned, Allana. I have, too.”

  My silence must have enraged him more as he shouted, “What is so goddamn awful about taking a chance with me?”

  “It’s not just you, it’s…”

  “Oh, don’t you dare,” he warned.

  “What?”

  “Don’t you dare say that it’s not you, it’s me. Everyone knows that’s the biggest blow-off. I don’t know how many times I’ve used it myself in the past.”

  “You don’t know me!” I exploded. “You don’t know anything about me except what I’m like in bed.”

  “You’re right. I’ve been acting like a fool trying to find out more about you. But, you never made an effort, never moved one goddamn inch!”

  “Stop shouting at me!” I bellowed inches from his face.

  He pointed at me in accusation. “You’ve just been using me to get what you want. And more than just sex. Look at me spending the day at your studio yesterday like a goddamn tool setting everything up for someone who doesn’t want anything to do with me. You are a master manipulator.”

  He punched the wall, and I jumped back.

  “What the hell?” He stared at the hole he’d created. Serious damage. “I’m not the kind of guy who freaks out like this and punches walls. You’re fucking with my head.”

  “I’m not,” I protested.”

  He raised his hands to his temples. “You played me, Allana. So damn good. You’re like the cheerleader who cons the nerd to help them with schoolwork, and then laughs behind his back. I’m so fuckin’ stupid to fall for this shit again.”

  His eyes blazed with anger and I couldn’t get over the difference from the man I sat with minutes ago.

  “No. That’s not true! You don’t know,” I began to explain, but he cut me off.

  “I thought you were different. I really did. And I was falling for you.” The icy look that pierced me would burn inside forever. “But, you are no different after all. You’re no better than the rest. Maybe worse.”

  Enough. That was it. Fuck this.

  I pointed my finger in his face. “Don’t talk to me like that. Ever!” I opened the front door and slammed it behind me, shaking as I rushed to get away. When I pulled out my phone, I was so frazzled I couldn’t remember the name of a local cab company. Instead, I hit Lily’s name on my Favorites. “Can you come get me?” I said in a frantic tone.

  I held it together while I stumbled away from his house. The ultimate walk of shame. When she pulled up a lifetime later, I crumbled into the front seat.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “No,” I said, my voice tre
mbling.

  And then I broke down.

  Chapter 12

  Mike

  I stormed into the living room after Allana had left. When I saw the two mugs there from last night, I picked hers up and hurled it to the wall.

  “Fuck!”

  What the hell was going on? Where was this rage coming from?

  I could’ve just spoken to her in a normal tone, but no, I had to lose my shit. I’d been overreacting to things lately like an angst-ridden teen. I had jumped that guy in the club crawling all over Allana and then I unleashed my anger on her when she didn’t agree to go out with me. What was I, a hormonal fifteen-year-old who punched walls and threw things?

  No, I was never like this at fifteen. Too busy with music and my nerd world. Something was building inside me and I had no idea what it was. Last night, it all came to a head when I jumped the guy.

  Danton thought I had gargoyle blood in me. Whatever the fuck that meant. Fuck Danton, fuck his crazy gargoyle talk, and fuck Allana!

  I went over to my stereo and searched for something hard I could lose myself in. Slayer’s South of Heaven. I turned it up as loud as I could take. The walls had soundproof insulation, so I could get away with more. The music pumped loud and furious into my veins.

  For the next hour, I paced the room like a caged animal, channeling my aggression into the music. That’s it, I was done with it all. Going back to my old life before I fell for Allana. Before some whacko yanked my chain about my bloodline and a woman played me like I was a goddamn new toy. If I could go back a month before, I never would have gone backstage at Vamps. My life would remain simple. Work, play guitar, and bang random women. No emotion, no pain.

  Clearly, I wasn’t meant to be in a relationship. Just when I found a woman I’m interested in starting one with, I scared her the fuck off.

  Enough of this shit. Fuck it all.

  Ally

  I gave Lily the quick version of events as she drove to my apartment, skipping past the more intimate details. “It ended so ugly. With me slamming the door and storming out. What’s wrong with me, Lily?”