Watch Me Fall

by Cherrie Lynn

  “Jared, please.” Her voice broke and she hated it.

  He shifted behind her, and the thick shaft that had been grazing her outer lips pulled back to nestle at her entrance. Starla seized both his wrists in a death grip as he gave her an inch, no more. She tried in vain to push back on him, but he only kneed her thighs wider, giving her less room to maneuver. She hated him right then, even more so when he pulled back and resumed his leisurely thrusts along the seam of her sex. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “Enjoying myself,” he said sweetly.

  “You’re trying to kill me.”

  Kisses fell along her left shoulder, behind her neck, around to the right shoulder. “Never.” Just when she wanted to scream, he pulled back again, playing his tormenting game with her, and slowly, oh so fucking slowly gave her his entire length as her fingers clenched on the straining muscles and tendons of his wrists. But no sooner had he taken her to the hilt than he pulled all the way out again. As he left her, the wet sound of her spasming body was almost forlorn, and she wanted to curse at him.

  “You feel too good,” he rasped, the hard edges of his teeth making her nerve endings sing as he scraped them along the side of her neck. His beard tickled so much, she tried to squeeze her ear to her shoulder. He only lifted his hand to grasp her jaw and hold her in place, wrenching a gasp from her, sending shivers through the part of her that was dying for him.

  Undulating her hips against his groin, she taunted him. “Too much for you, cowboy?”

  With a growl, he claimed her again, thrusting so high, so deep, she couldn’t cry out because he had just driven the breath from her. “I’ll show you too much.”

  Fuck, he did. He settled deep and rode her hard, rode her flat against the mattress, and when she squirmed, he only kneed her legs wider and rode her harder. Sweat slicked their frenzied movements against each other. His hand clenched a fistful of her hair, and he bit her on the neck, nibbled up to her ear, sighed endearments there that only made her heart soar higher.

  Perfect, he was so perfect—the exact balance she hadn’t known she’d been looking for: the roughness she loved and the sweetness she’d always craved but never found. It didn’t have to be one or the other. She could have it all. With him, she could have everything.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  She wrung him empty, her beautiful body taking everything his had to give and demanding more. And when he came, she followed, biting blankets to stifle her cries and milking every ounce of energy and every iota of resistance from him along with his come.

  “Oh baby,” she sighed, that lovely sigh that wasn’t so much coming down as drifting along. Jared kissed a line down the back of her neck as he gently pulled away, leaving her warmth and softness and feeling strangely like he was leaving the only place he’d ever belonged. “That was…”

  “I know,” he murmured, making quick work of disposing the condom so he could crawl back in bed beside her as quickly as possible. She hadn’t moved except to pull her arms underneath her body. Was she cold? Just in case, he tossed the comforter over her gloriously naked body. One sleepily grateful brown eye peered at him through the tangle of her blonde hair.

  “I’ve never…” After a moment, her hair puffed out with her sigh and the eye he could see closed. “Jesus, it sounds so corny.”

  Under the covers, Jared stroked a hand down the smoothness of her back, feeling the grace of her curves and allowing his fingers to knead wherever they pleased. “Tell me.”

  “I’ve never felt this way. You don’t have to lie to me or say the same thing, but please, can you not say ‘thank you for your honesty’ or anything like that, because I really don’t think I could—”

  “Starla. It’s okay. I’m right there with you.”

  “I shouldn’t even go there. Things are so crazy—”

  “That they are.”

  “—but you’re amazing, and if I do anything to fuck this up, please just remember that I don’t mean to.”

  “Can I say something?”

  She took a deep breath, blew it out. “Okay.”

  “When I found you, I definitely wasn’t looking for you. I wasn’t looking for anyone. But now that you’re here…there’s nowhere else I would rather be. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

  She smiled, though he only knew she did because her eye crinkled at the corner. Unwilling to miss that smile, he reached up and swept the hair back from her face so she could bless him with the beauty of it. It was a rare thing, a genuine smile on Starla’s face. He didn’t want to miss a single one.

  Before long, she dozed off, but Jared had too much energy pent up to sleep. Which was odd, because sex like that should knock a man out for the night. Instead, his nerves were vibrating under his skin, and this woman was doing it to him. He felt alive for the first time since…well, for the first time in a long, long while. He pulled on his jeans and threw on a T-shirt, then headed to the living room to do something; he wasn’t sure what. Maybe crack open a beer and sit out on the back deck, or find something to watch on TV. When he picked up his cell phone from the coffee table, though, he knew exactly what the night had in store. There was a message from Ghost, received about fifteen minutes ago.

  If you still want to do this, I’m at DM. Leaving at midnight.

  It was exactly the opportunity he’d been waiting for. All of Starla’s troubles, a majority of his dad’s objections, and the danger to his girls, if it existed, could all be eradicated with the slam of jailhouse bars behind a certain slimy individual. The faster Jared could make that happen, the happier and safer everyone would be. If he had to work with a sworn enemy to accomplish it, so be it.

  DM. Dermamania. Jared tapped back: I’ll be there and went back to his bedroom to change. Somehow he expected the occasion might call for all-black attire, even though they were just looking for the guy, not breaking and entering. A stop by his gun safe wouldn’t be unheard of either. Better to have a gun and not need it than need a gun and not have it. In his bed, Starla slept deeply, the covers rising and falling with her easy breath. He wasn’t going to disturb her, especially about this—she would either try to talk him out of it, or she would stay up worrying all night. Or she would even want to go with him, which he would never allow. If all went according to plan, he could wake her up in the morning with the good news: all her troubles were over.

  ***

  The lights were on at Dermamania and Ghost’s car sat dark and alone in the lot, so Jared parked a few spaces down and walked to the shop’s front door. It was ten till midnight, so maybe Ghost had finished up already. The door was locked, but after a moment, he appeared to let Jared in, not looking at all happy about this whole thing. He wasn’t the only one.

  “Yeah, gimme a minute,” Ghost muttered, then headed back toward one of the stations. “I just finished with a client.”

  “No rush.” Jared glanced around the tattoo shop, wondering where Starla worked—but he found it quickly because, well, she had a black wooden name plaque over her station with teal starbursts painted on it. Her workspace was tidier than he had figured it would be, bottles and ink all lined up neatly along the wall, waiting for her to come back. He’d never been inside a tattoo parlor before, but the black chairs made him think of the dentist’s office. He imagined sitting in that while Starla created art on his skin, discovering to his surprise it wasn’t an unpleasant thought in the least. It was a nice place, walls painted a tasteful dark red and gray and decorated with brooding art. Probably Brian’s. Jared had always heard the guy was an exceptionally talented artist. He really hoped he was back up and running again soon—no one deserved to go out like that.

  While Ghost finished his duties and turned off the TV in the corner, Jared walked over to Starla’s area and resisted the urge to touch anything or nose around her stuff, but he would have liked to pick up some of the pictures she’d placed on an accent table nearby and see them close up. One of them looked like a group shot of the entire Dermamani
a crew. Another appeared to be her and Brian arm in arm. Still others were of people he didn’t know—her family, maybe, though she didn’t seem to be very close to them.

  “All right, done.” Jared looked to see Ghost striding toward the door, keys in hand, but he also noticed Ghost hadn’t looked at him once. “Let’s do this if we’re doing it.”

  “What exactly are we doing?” Jared asked, following him out and waiting while he locked up.

  “This is your show.”

  “I know that, but I figured you might know more about where he might be or how he operates.”

  “Oh, I know how he operates, yeah.” He came to a dead stop as they turned the corner and their two vehicles came into view sitting silently in the parking lot. “Jesus Christ, man. We’ll take mine.”

  “All right. But why?”

  “Dude, your truck is huge and red. Where we’re going, it’ll stick out like a dildo in the salad bowl. Probably get us pulled over by the cops.”

  So the GTO it was. Jared settled in the passenger seat, shut the door, and glanced around appreciatively. He’d admired Ghost’s car from afar, but he’d damn sure never thought he would ever be sitting in it. Every inch of it gleamed. If there was one thing Jared couldn’t hold against the guy, it was his taste in cars.

  But what right did he have to hold anything against him? Except for winning Macy, Ghost had never done a damn thing to him. Their conversation at the hospital had been the longest one they’d ever had. “Nice car,” he ventured as Ghost got in, hoping to break the ice somewhat.

  “Thanks.” The engine fired up, purring like a kitten. “We’ll go by Max’s place first. I know he won’t be there if he thinks the cops are looking for him, but damn if I’m gonna try everywhere else first only to find out the idiot was home all along.”

  “You found out where he lives?” Starla had probably known all along, or maybe she hadn’t, but if Jared had asked her about it, she might have gotten suspicious about his intentions.

  “Yep. I have my sources. If he’s not there, he’s probably somewhere on the meth mile.”

  “The…huh?”

  Ghost turned a particularly disturbing grin on him. “Come on, man. Are you that sheltered? Clancy Road. The meth mile. It’s not an actual mile, but a lot of people down there are either cooking it or on it, or they act like they are.”

  “And which is Max?”

  “He slings that shit. Among other things.”

  Fucking hell. Had Starla been knowingly dating a drug dealer? What in the hell had she expected getting involved with someone like that? Jared sat dumbly for several moments while Ghost peeled out of the parking lot and headed west. “Does she know?”

  Ghost didn’t have to ask who he meant. “I can’t even speculate on what she knows, but I will say this. She’d have to be living under a rock not to. And I can promise you, she ain’t been living under no rock.”

  Fantastic. “I can’t believe she would be with someone like that.”

  “You don’t know her all that well, do you?”

  “I don’t mean to put you off, Jared, but you really don’t know shit about me…”

  There was a lot he could handle. A lot he could forgive. A colorful sexual history, fine; it was closer to the norm than not. But being involved in any way with the drug scene? In the back of his mind, echoing along with Starla’s words, was his frigging dad chanting right along beside her. “I don’t want you with someone who’s going to bring chaos like this into your life, into our family. I don’t want it to touch my granddaughters.”

  The old man didn’t even have to tell him that. He knew it. Chaos like that was unforgivable. But he resisted the urge to ask Ghost anything about it. Having that conversation when she wasn’t here to defend herself wouldn’t be right.

  “But you like her a lot, yeah?”

  Jared looked over at the other guy’s profile and found it curious that the usual thoughts weren’t taking hold: What does Macy see in him? How did this guy snatch her out from under me? What do they have in common? Is he good to her? He just didn’t care anymore. “Yeah. I do.”

  “That’s good, man.”

  “Is it? I thought you’d been giving her a hard time about me.”

  “Maybe I was wrong. I’ve always thought if she had someone to level her out, you know, she’d be all right. Maybe you can do that.”

  “Level her out?”

  “I don’t know, stabilize her. She’s a fucking emotional tornado. Kind of like I was when…” He paused and sighed. “Never mind.”

  “I hear congratulations are in order.”

  Ghost glanced over at him. “Did Starla tell you?”

  “No, she hasn’t said a word about it. Macy’s parents told me when I was over there looking at some electrical work for her dad.”

  “Ah. That workshop he built’s a motherfucker, isn’t it? I helped him with a lot of it.”

  Jared couldn’t help but laugh and wish he could’ve been a fly on the wall to hear a conversation between this guy and Daryl Rodgers. “Yeah. Hang around with him too long, he will put you to work.”

  “I’ve learned. We fight like an old married couple when we work on shit, though.”

  “So did we, so don’t feel bad. He’s picky as hell.”

  “Don’t call him a codger. I learned that much.”

  “I never dared.”

  “You’re smarter than me. I love to give him shit. I’ve been giving him shit since the first time I met him.”

  No wonder Daryl liked him. For the first time, Jared felt something give inside him, like a pressure valve opening and releasing years’ worth of built-up angst. He didn’t know why it was at that particular moment, nor did he care. All was as it should be, and he was actually enjoying the conversation with Macy’s soon-to-be husband.

  But Macy’s soon-to-be husband was driving them into the seedier parts of town, he noticed, and any minute now would probably reach their destination. What then? He might be losing years’ worth of angst, but the thought of coming face-to-face with the man who’d put Starla into such a predicament only built more in its place. His fists were clenched so hard they ached, and he hadn’t even realized it until now. The urge to drive one of them into that clown’s face when he met him would be irresistible.

  Ghost pulled to a stop at a curb and looked at him, seeming to notice his tension. “I’m going to urge restraint, dude. I know you’re wound up, but don’t do anything rash. I just want to get a look at the guy’s face.”

  “Really? And if it’s obvious he’s the one Brian punched? The one who tried to kill your best friend?”

  Ghost’s dark eyes narrowed and darted to the house sitting maybe a hundred feet from the street. At first glance, it was a normal little house, but on closer inspection, it needed some repairs and a fresh coat of paint, none of which its occupant apparently could be bothered to remedy. “Yeah. I hear you. Let’s just do our best. I’m not looking to end up in jail myself.”

  It would put Jared’s parents in the ground if something like that happened. He would have to keep that in mind—there were people who depended on him. Ashley. Mia. Starla. Even Shelly. They all seemed a thousand miles removed from this place, but he would keep them all at the front of his mind like a beacon of light to counteract all this darkness.

  “Doesn’t look like anybody’s home,” Ghost observed, pulling on a black baseball cap that had been resting on the seat beside him, “but let’s check it out anyway.”

  The two of them strolled up the slight hill toward the house, where the grass was in dire need of cutting. One of the black house numbers had fallen off the wall beside the front door, leaving only a three and an eight. For the first time, Jared noticed that Ghost had dressed rather darkly for the occasion too. “What’s the story gonna be if he’s here?”

  “I’ll just tell him I’m looking for a guy I used to be in a band with. They’re associates, shall we say, and Gus was always prone to disappearing for days at a time.” And
then he was pounding on the door with the edge of his fist hard enough to splinter the wood.

  A house this small, they probably would have heard some movement had someone been making his way to the door, or scuttling to hide, or whatever Max would be inclined to do with someone beating his door down in the middle of the night. It was dead silent inside. Dogs barked in the distance, crickets chirred, leaves rustled in the wind, and the security light hummed…but other than that, nothing. Ghost pounded again, and after a few minutes, once more.

  “No luck,” he muttered, glancing around in distaste at their surroundings and briefly lifting his cap to run a hand over his bald head. “I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.”

  “You know, the night I met Starla, they were going to a party next door to my house. I found her walking along the road. It couldn’t be as easy as that, could it?”

  Ghost cocked his head at him. “Where is this?”

  “I live on Old Harris Road.”

  “I doubt it. I mean, it’s a possibility. But the only person I know who lives out that way is Swat, and he’s more our friend than Max’s. I have a few other places in mind. Come on.”

  They headed back to the car. “What about your friend…what was it, Gus?” Jared asked as they got in.

  “Yeah, I’ll try him, but only if all else fails. I fell out with that group when I left the band, the bunch of assholes.”

  “I wonder if Max is even in town anymore. If he really did this, he’d have to be stupid to hang around here.”

  “He’s pretty stupid. I haven’t lost hope.”

  But as the night wore on, Jared began to. They stopped at a few other disreputable-looking places, crashing a party at one, but the story was always the same: no one had seen Max in a while. Someone suggested a bar Jared had never heard of, but Ghost had, and Jared could tell from the look on his face it wasn’t a place he cared to investigate.

  “I’m up for it if you are,” Jared told his ally as they jumped in the car once again.