by Cora Kenborn
Adrenaline pummeled my veins with the rush of a narcotic. My voice dropped to a husky growl as I backed her against the dining room table, kicking the mahogany chairs to the side with the heel of my boot. “I think you’re full of shit, Miss Ryan.”
Phoebe tilted her face within an inch of mine. “I think you give yourself too much credit, Mr. Rock Star. I think you’re all talk and no action.” Pressing herself against me, the roundness of her abdomen molded against my erection. I groaned with need. “I think—” a lusty sigh escaped her parted lips “—maybe you need long distance bus rides to think about what’s waiting for you at home.”
I swallowed roughly, her words pinging from every wall and circling back around to my throbbing cock. My thinly held control had been stretched too far. Lifting a hand, I ran it up her neck until I cradled her head in my palm. Slightly pulling her hair back, I forced her eyes on me.
“I think you’re treading on very dangerous territory, princess. I’d be careful if I were you. I’m not in the mood to be fucked with.”
A teasing smile inched its way across her mouth and she bit her bottom lip. Dropping her eyes, she trailed a finger down my bare chest. “Well, if that’s the way you want to play, I guess you can just fuck with your own mood.” She grazed her finger over my stomach and lingered at the waistband of my boxers before trailing it down the front. Fire ignited inside me and burned with the intensity of a live wire. Fear of the unknown had pushed my patience to the limit.
Closing my eyes, I fought to regain control. “Damn it, Phoebe, I’ve got too much on my mind for games. Just—don’t.” My pulse raced in tempo with each breath she took. The roundness of her breasts spilled out of her scoop neck dress, battling my mind in a twisted game of wills.
Standing up on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips against my ear. “Checkmate, baby. Your move.” As she pulled away, she traced a finger along my jawline.
Something inside me snapped.
Before she could react, my free hand grabbed her wrist, pulling it from my face. With my other hand still wrapped around her hair, I forced her against me, taking her lips in a tangled web of kisses that intensified with each flick of my tongue. Her halfhearted resistance only fanned the fire, and I claimed her mouth as our kisses dripped a steady stream of need into each other.
A momentary break allowed me to look at her. In her eyes, I saw a reflection of my own…vacant of anything but lustful want. “I told you not to fuck with me. Or maybe that was your plan all along?”
Chapter Five
Phoebe
He didn’t give me time to answer.
Reaching under my dress, his fingers wrapped around the lone string of my panties and jerked backward. The sound of the material ripping only pushed him further into a world where I couldn’t reach him. I gasped, and he cut his eyes to me, jutting his jaw as he ran his hand up the inside of my thigh.
My head fell back automatically as his fingertips raked exactly over the place I wanted them. “God, Julian…”
The words barely tumbled from my mouth when, with an effortless lift under my arms, he set me onto the dining room table. Dropping his lips to my neck, his tongue slid down, sucking the top of my breast deep into the heat of his mouth. The low moan that rumbled through me only pushed him over the edge.
Not breaking contact, he reached between us with his other hand and jerked his boxers to the floor. Securing my hips, he pulled me toward him. I braced my palms behind me as he plunged forward, entering with a force that made us both groan on impact. Rhythmic thrusts propelled us into a realm where nothing existed but the feeling of his body inside mine.
He seemed part machine, physically chasing a wall he’d constructed between us again.
My wave of whimpers grew into moans of his name. “Julian, I can’t…”
This time it was his turn to drop his lips to my ears, his voice rough and demanding. “Yes, you can.”
Another powerful stroke, and my world spun out of control. My nails dug long scratches into the wood finish of the table as I gasped for air. Impatient for his own release, Julian increased his tempo. His hold tightened, and with one final thrust he groaned into my neck until the tremors subsided.
His forehead raked against my chest as beads of perspiration dripped between my breasts. Even if I’d wanted to speak, there was nothing to say. Closing his eyes, he fought to regain control.
I wanted to lighten the mood, but it seemed as if the sex that normally fixed us, suddenly broke us. He was inside of me, but we were miles apart.
He opened his eyes with a start, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown. “Fuck.” He angrily readjusted his boxers and ran his hand through his hair. Backing away, he turned around.
What the hell just happened?
“Julian?”
“I need to pack.”
“You’re shutting me out again. Talk to me. Have you heard anything about that Cayden girl you’re not telling me? Or anything about,” I swallowed hard, “my father?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Phoebe. It’s just,” he raked his hand over his hair again and sighed, “I was way out of line. I’m sorry. I took my frustration out on you. That was too rough after what you’ve been through. It will never happen again.”
The fatigue in his voice worried me. “I didn’t exactly push you away. You didn’t hurt me,” I assured him, kissing his bicep. “I didn’t mean to provoke you.”
Turning around, he caught my eye. “You didn’t do anything. This is on me and my goddamn issues.” He gathered me in his arms and pressed his lips against the top of my head. “I love you. I’d do anything for you. Do you understand that?” I nodded and he placed his fingers underneath my chin, coaxing me to look at him. “I need you to tell me with words that you understand and trust me to do what I think is best.”
Emotions overtook me, and I couldn’t stop the torrential downpour of tears. “I know you love me, Julian. Whatever’s wrong, you’ll tell me when you can.”
I’d hoped for a monumental confession. Something to break our circular pattern of secrets and forgiveness. Instead, I got a final lingering kiss before he turned to climb the stairs.
“I’m going to pack. Ryker should be here any minute.” With a wistful look, he took the stairs one by one until he disappeared.
***
Pacing didn’t help. Neither did hanging out at the bottom of the stairs listening for the sound of his footsteps. Eventually, I settled on the couch, nervously rolling the appointment card in my fingers until the edges were frayed and dirty. Nothing quelled the unease in my stomach festering into a full-blown ulcer.
He’s hiding something.
The gears shifted into reverse again. Julian shut down on me, falling into the same pattern he found so comfortable—solitude. No matter what I said, I couldn’t get him to realize we were a team. Especially after everything that happened in New York with his stalker. His refusal to include me in his torment almost got us both killed.
Now, we were turning down the same path once more. It didn’t matter we’d only known each other less than a year. Julian Bale had become an extension of my soul, and I felt the shift in his behavior quicker than my own.
Heaving a sigh of frustration, I held the card up to my face and carefully studied the words scribbled across it. Three weeks. Surely, that’d be enough notice for his new manager to schedule the band a break from their whirlwind promo tour and Julian’s book publicity junkets.
It wasn’t like this could be repeated. We’d already rescheduled it once because Circa Records had Julian flying to parts unknown on a whim. I knew life with a rock star wouldn’t be typical, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that resentment didn’t consume me with every broken promise in the name of his fans.
March nineteenth at two p.m.
Just reading the date tugged at the corner of my mouth until my lips curled into a genuine smile. Julian and I would find out if the spare bedroom would be painted pink or blue. It’d killed me not kn
owing the gender for seven weeks. A planner by nature, not being able to buy gender specific clothing or decorate the nursery unbalanced me beyond reason. It would be the first time Julian would see the baby since it looked like a malnourished gummy bear.
I couldn’t wait to tell him. I just hoped after his crazy mood swings, the out-of-character table sex we just had, and my impending trip to Griffith Park, we’d still be speaking enough to enjoy the momentous verdict.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that Julian and I were unraveling, and one loose thread would shred us into an irreparable pile of strings.
Chapter Six
Julian
That asshole got what he wanted.
He’d gotten into my head and turned me into someone I didn’t recognize. I heard her pacing at the foot of the stairs. I purposely stood back, releasing the door handle every time and bracing myself against the wall until she walked away.
Phoebe and I never had a problem talking or being comfortable with each other before. Awkwardness had no place in our lives, and I hated the bastard for placing seeds of doubt in her mind. Phoebe was my solace…not my discord. I’d make him pay for what he’d done to us. I refused to bring my child into a world with that man still in it.
I closed the last side of the suitcase and sat down on the bed, a sick feeling in my stomach. Damn this tour. Moments earlier, I’d toyed with the idea of calling the record label and refusing to leave. What could they do, fire me?
I shook my head at my own absurdity. Of course they could fire me. They could drop my contract, sending us all straight back into obscurity. Then what would I do? Go work at some bar again? Sling drinks, barely making enough money for diapers? Hell no. Phoebe and the baby deserved the life I could give them now—with this job—with this status.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Throbbing on either side of my head had my temples too tender to touch. What the fuck happened downstairs? That wasn’t me, and it sure as hell wasn’t what Phoebe deserved. Thinking about that dead girl left me feeling powerless.
Phoebe had been there at the wrong time. I wanted to make love to her, but not like that. That was a primal need to control and dominate. My lack of self-control scared me.
Glancing at the alarm clock, I realized I’d been hiding in our bedroom over an hour like some fucking toddler. I pushed off the wall and turned the knob. Ryker would be here any minute. She needed to know what I’d done before she went ballistic. Not that I’d blame her. I’d truly outdone myself in the dick department with this one.
Hearing my phone ring, I slammed the bedroom door behind me and took the stairs four at a time. “Son of a bitch.” My steps faltered as I collided with a small, round frame with piercing blue eyes.
She leaned against the bottom of the staircase, her face streaked. My hand centered at my chest, attempting to stop the jagged cut her eyes tore down the center. Risking a step toward her, she surprised me when she didn’t flinch or back up. Eyes downcast, I tried to move around her.
Phoebe shifted her left leg, effectively blocking me. “You aren’t going anywhere until you talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Don’t feed me bullshit, Bale. You asked me to trust you. I do, but we’re walking on eggshells around here and I can’t take it. What happened? I mean, wasn’t that you with me downstairs an hour ago?”
I sighed in honesty. “I don’t know who that was, Phoebe.”
“Really? I’m pretty sure he’s the person who asked me to marry him.”
A sadistic chuckle escaped before I could reel it back in. “The guy who fucked you wasn’t me.” Immediately, I regretted the words as her face registered the verbal slap. “Shit, Phoebe, I…”
“No, I think you’ve said enough.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I came to tell you Ryker called. He should arrive shortly to babysit me and requested to talk to you in private. You know, super-secret bro code and shit.”
“I’m sorry.” The pressure in my chest increased as I watched the corners of her mouth turn down into a tired arch.
“I’ll leave you and your brother to talk about me. Let me know when the zip ties and ball gag arrive.” She started down the hallway, the sunlight from the window silhouetting her swollen body. Instinctively, I grabbed her arm, and she glanced down at my hold.
“Let me go.”
“No.”
Jerking her arm away, she catapulted herself into my chest, eyes blazing. “Just what the fuck do you want from me? I beg you to talk to me, and you push me away. Then when I do as you ask and leave you alone, you stop me. Make up your goddamn mind, because I’m a hormonal, bloated, pregnant woman who can’t see her feet anymore. Do you know how frustrating it is to not be able to tie your own shoes? Do you? And I waddle. I fucking waddle, Julian. Do you think that’s fun? And nothing fits—nothing! I’m a waddling, shoeless blimp, and my ass is so huge I could rent it out for advertising…and—what? Are you laughing at me?”
The way her voice quivered and bellowed at the same time—in some warped way it made me feel better. It made me feel normal. “No, I’m not laughing at you.”
Her eyes narrowed into blue slits. “Yes, you are. Don’t lie to me.”
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Laughter crawled up my chest and exploded. Tears pooled in my eyes and I lifted a hand to wipe them away when I felt a punch to my chest.
“I hate you. You’re an asshole.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Fine, I don’t. But you’re still an asshole.” She lowered her eyes. “I don’t want to fight anymore, Julian.”
“Fighting is the last thing I want to do, princess. Look at me.” I pulled her to me. “I love you, and I know you love me. You’ve got to let me work this out. Trust me?”
“I trust you. Do you trust me?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“I think it’s a very simple one, but you seem to have a hard time answering it.”
I blinked at her. “Of course I trust you.”
“Really? Actions speak louder than words in this case.” Her voice sounded tired, the Southern drawl inflated by obvious fatigue.
No way in hell I’d hit her with the truth of the situation. “What do you want from me, Phoebe? I have people demanding things on a daily basis. What is it I’m not giving you?”
She tilted her face up and squared her chin. “Honesty.” I stared blankly at her, and she let out a defeated sigh as the doorbell rang again. “Saved by the bell.”
I took the opportunity to escape her icy stare. The door didn’t fit the frame properly and stuck every time someone closed it. Pulling the knob with one foot on the wall, it opened with a loud scrape as I stumbled backward. A booted foot tapped impatiently in front of my hunched position. Sighing, I stood and collided with a familiar stare.
“Thanks for doing this, Ry.”
“No problem. I’m happy to have a break from that nasty fucking bus, and you’re my brother. At least that’s what Mom says.”
I cracked a smile as he cut the tension in the room. “Fair warning, you have a reluctant subject on your hands.”
“I can hear you,” Phoebe muttered with her arms crossed over her chest.
“Yeah, well, she won’t even be able to walk down the hallway without me knowing it,” Ryker retorted with a goofy smile. “I’m thinking of getting her one of those house arrest ankle bracelets, or maybe an electro-shock collar.”
I moved away from the door and gestured him inside. “I mean this with all the brotherly love in the world, but, Ry, if you try that, it was nice knowing you.”
“I should be scared of her, shouldn’t I?”
“I’d be.”
Our awkward laughter trailed off as Ryker shoved his hands into his pockets. “You headed to the studio?”
I winced as I glanced at Phoebe. The scowl on her face told me what she thought about my unannounced meeting with the new LA producers. “I’ve got to run a f
ew logistics with them about tweaking the attack and release settings on the new track vocals. I shouldn’t be later than eleven or so.”
Ryker dipped his chin. “Understood.”
I debated on rocking the boat by kissing her goodbye. In the end, I couldn’t leave things the way they were. Moving toward her, I dusted my lips across her cheek. At first, she didn’t move, her body rigid with anger. Seconds passed and she sighed as her muscles relaxed.
“Drive safely.”
I stepped onto the front porch, my legs feeling like dead weight. Hough had to track down Daniel Dalton. Everything inside me knew he was biding his time. I pulled out of the driveway, my thoughts on her seven jagged scars as I exited onto the freeway.
Chapter Seven
Phoebe
Forcing myself to turn away from the window, I glanced at Ryker, awkwardly standing with his hands shoved in his pockets, staring at the floor. He resembled Julian in height and bone structure, with that same wicked, ghost dimpled grin, but that was where the similarities ended.
Where Julian rippled with muscles and unbridled testosterone, Ryker rocked a pale skater boy look. That wasn’t to say he lacked attractiveness or charm. Ryker Bale had women eating out of the palm of his hand. However, at the moment, I wanted to grab hold of his retro-eighties Nikki Sixx style haircut and twist it until his scalp bled. Julian wasn’t here anymore to run interference. I was stuck with an overgrown babysitter who probably wouldn’t let me pee without his brother’s notarized authorization.
Running a hand through my hair, I took one step at a time as Ryker leaned back on one booted heel, staring at me suspiciously. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the keys to the Infiniti QX SUV Julian bought for me and headed for the door. I reached for the doorknob when large, slim fingers landed on my shoulder.