“Are you hungover?” Luke asked me.
Dammit, he had a radar for that sort of thing. Always on my case. The whiskey I’d had with John last night was the only thing I’d drank since I’d been here. So I didn’t need his judgement. “No. I’m fine,” I lied.
“You don’t seem fine.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re being weird.”
“I’m not being weird.”
“She is being weird,” John interrupted, his eyes on the rearview mirror, his tone like ice. “But only since you got in this car. She’s fine with me. She’s safe with me. I don’t know what your deal is or why you’re so overprotective, but you’re stressing Dani the fuck out right now. And I don’t like it.”
I stopped eating. I was waiting for Luke to go off. And John exploded first.
“Well, since you brought it up,” Luke started, heated in a second. “Let’s discuss Dani’s safety. Who the fuck are you? Because I can’t find any information on you past about eight years ago. You just show up in Kill Devil Hills. Assume a new identity. Is John Michaels even your real name? Is black even your natural hair color?”
“Just what are you insinuating?”
“Oh, I think you know.”
“I’m not answering a single fucking question. So keep asking. I owe you nothing.”
“See. You’re guilty as fuck.”
My stomach swirled. The two hamburgers I just ate were not sitting well. “John,” I begged. “John. Please pull over.”
He slowed immediately at my request, parking the car on the shoulder. As soon as the car was in park, I yanked on the door handle and fell onto the gravel. I was going to vomit. On my hands and knees, I waited for it. I felt a hand on my back. And I thought for sure it would be Luke’s. But it was John at my side.
Luke opened his car door, too.
“Don’t even fucking think about it,” John snapped at him. But then his voice calmed. “I already told you, Luke. She’s fine with me. I can take care of her. Just get back in the car.”
Luke didn’t budge, but John ignored him. He brushed my hair from my face, holding it like a ponytail at the back of my head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against my ear. “I’m sorry I argued with him. And I’m sorry I gave you that old whiskey last night. Maybe it was bad.”
“No,” I said through a shaky breath. “I always throw up. Doesn’t matter how much I drink. The morning after I always...” My stomach lurched. “Okay. You can get back in the car now.
“Nothing gets to me. I’m staying.”
I couldn’t argue with him. Because up came my lunch. All over the side of the road. And John saw everything. I was beyond mortified. Thankfully, I managed to not get any on either of us, but it was so gross. And now, all sweaty and shaky, tears burned in my eyes. “I’m such a mess,” I confessed to him. “And I don’t mean because I just threw up. Well, that’s part of it. But you have no idea. I know I seem like I’m this sexy, cool, confident, bad-ass drummer. Like I rock at life. But I don’t have a fucking clue. A few drinks with you last night, that was nothing. I drink sometimes until I don’t know where I am or who I’m with. That’s why Luke’s so paranoid.”
I backed away from where I’d vomited, sitting on the ground, drawing my knees to my chest. John was right there with me. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t left me for the car yet. I had to smell awful. And I felt like such a little girl for crying. No guy wanted to deal with that. Not even the one guy, the guy I’d lost; he wouldn’t have had patience for this. He would have told me to toughen up and get off the ground.
“We all put on a mask, a version of ourselves we want others to see,” John said gently, brushing my hair out of my face, staring at me hard. “My hair color isn’t black. My last name isn’t really Michaels. Well, legally I’ve changed it. But I did change it. I think you see this other version of me, though—the one I’m trying to hide. And I see you for you. Just Dani. I l-word that version. My version.”
“Shit,” I breathed. He had my skin prickling now. “Don’t say it.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
But then he winked, completely negating that statement. So he meant it? Again. And this time, instead of feeling like the world was collapsing in around me, I felt something else. Hope, maybe.
He took my hand and helped pull me to my feet. “I’ll stop at the next gas station or something.”
“I’ll drive,” Luke said.
I’d forgotten Luke was still out of the car with us, watching all of that unfold. Had he heard John say he ‘l-worded’ me? I guess so, because he took the keys from John. “You sit in the back with her.”
John did not argue with that.
~ CHAPTER 29 ~
JOHN
We were back in the Outer Banks, traveling north, nearing my home. Dani had fallen asleep, her head resting on my lap now, her soft breaths comforting compared to the stress from earlier. I still didn’t know what to make of Luke. Likely, he felt the same toward me. And I figured neither of us would figure that out anytime soon.
“She’s going to break your heart,” he said, the only thing he’d said to me since the side of the road.
Well... fuck you too, Luke.
“We had a good moment today,” I muttered, more to myself than to him.
“Dani will give away moments, but she’s never going to give you a lifetime.”
Luke turned the car down my long driveway. I felt weight like a ton of bricks settle into my stomach. He’d summed up my fears into one eloquent sentence.
When we reached the house, I gently shook Dani’s shoulder. She sat up, stretching, giving me a small smile. “Sorry I fell asleep on you.”
“I enjoyed it.”
She winked at me in response. Wait, what the fuck did that mean? Because she’d never winked at me before. And I’d never winked at her. Not before earlier when I did as we were talking about the l-word thing.
Dani exited the car, and I stepped out behind her. “I’ve got to go to work. Are you and Luke going to be fine hanging out here today?”
She nodded, being kind of shy with me. Well, hell, I think I was being shy with her too.
“I’ll be back by dinner.”
“Okay. Bye, John.”
I was back in the car, back on the road, driving south. Luke’s comment had my brain spinning, trying to wrap around this thing with Dani. What did I even want out of it? I knew I didn’t want it to end. I knew I was falling in love with her. I knew I couldn’t walk away if I tried. But what the hell did I expect? To runaway into the sunset together. I was a realist. I knew that would never happen. So why did I want it more than my next breath?
Luke was right.
She was going to break my fucking heart.
Back at my shop, it was busy as hell. Lots of extra people in town for the holiday weekend. I had all my employees in—Finn, Amanda, Troy, and Walker. Sydney at my station. And the receptionist. She hadn’t shown up for a week, and here she was, sitting at the desk like she belonged there. I needed to fire her, but instead I walked right past her. We were too busy for me to care.
“Two girls are waiting on piercings,” Amanda told me, stopping me.
“No.”
“They’ve been waiting for an hour,” Amanda insisted. She looked stressed out of her mind. “For you. There isn’t anyone else anywhere close who does this.”
“I said no. I’m not doing vaginal piercing anymore. I’ll do whatever else you want. Fifty percent off any piercing for making you both wait on me. But no.”
One of the girls pouted. She had full lips and big tits, and I bet no man ever turned her down. “It’s a privilege to touch my pussy.”
I nearly burst out laughing. “I’m sure it is. But I said no.”
“Come on, Carrie.” She grabbed her jumbo-sized purse off the floor, slinging it over a bare shoulder. “I changed my mind. I don’t want this asshole touching me. He’s a freak.”
She and her friend left—their small s
cene letting everyone I interact with on a daily basis know exactly how hopelessly taken I was.
As the door closed on the girls and the cold, I noticed Sydney had her eyes on me, shock on her face. Amanda patted my arm. “That was epic. That girl was bitching at me for over an hour, so thanks for that.”
“Yeah,” I said, leaving the front and all the eyes on me. In the clean room, I started sterilizing. I had my shirt off, one of my guns set up and running in the back corner. I touched it to my skin. I felt some relief in the pain.
Most of the tattoos—on my legs, chest, and stomach—I’d done myself. If I could reach it, I’d inked it. But I had an open space, a spot I had been saving for something, and I didn’t have a fucking clue why, but I was tattooing Dani’s name on myself.
“Have you gone bat-shit crazy!?”
It was Sydney. Standing in the doorway. With her hands on her hips. I’d never heard my sister swear in my life. “Put the gun down, John. You told me no names like that. Ever. And to always discourage my clients from doing the same.”
Last year, she wanted me to tattoo Rhett’s name on her skin. On her ass, no less. And I’d refused. And given her the longest lecture. Now I felt like I shouldn’t have been so stubborn with her. She had no other ink on her skin, nothing in her life had ever been important enough to put permanently on her skin, except for her boyfriend’s name, the boyfriend I knew she’d marry one day. So why the hell shouldn’t she be allowed to do that? I barely knew Dani and I wanted her name on my skin.
I already had the D-A-N started. I paused and took a breath.
“At least use a transfer for this.”
“I’m good at freehand. I want to do it freehand. Dani won’t even notice. I have too much other ink, it will blend in, but I want it there. I’ll know it’s there.” I’d still have it when she was gone.
“Yeah,” Sydney said. “I’ll know it’s there too. I want Rhett’s name right here.” She pointed at a spot, one high on her right ass cheek. “As soon as you’re done, or I’ll tell Dani the moment we get home.”
“You’re going to blackmail me? Your own brother?”
“Well, no. You know I won’t tell her. I would never. But please, John. Please.” She started begging me, as I sat there awkwardly with my shirt still off and the gun hovering.”
“Fine.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. I’ll do it later.”
She gave me the biggest, full-teeth smile I’d ever seen. We’d been over this several times—she didn’t trust any other artist but me to put this on her. And I think what really held me back about tattooing her for so long was knowing that it meant Rhett was a permanent fixture in her life, and thus my life.
I guess that was what I wanted by putting “Danielle” on my skin. A permanent piece of her to stay with me forever—even if it was only her name on my skin.
I started my gun.
I wasn’t about to leave the name Dan on the spot that belonged to Danielle.
~ CHAPTER 30 ~
DANI
John was late—very late. His sister came back, in the Hummer rental actually. She’d picked it up for me. And Rhett returned in his car. He’d been at his bartending job all day. So the three of us, plus Luke, endured a slightly awkward pizza dinner together.
Afterwards, I told Luke goodnight. Then I went up to John’s room. I reorganized my suitcase since I’d done all my laundry earlier. It had previously been spilling out into his clean room, and I didn’t want him thinking I was a mess. Even though, the way I left hotel rooms would no doubt terrify most people.
Was he avoiding me? Because it kept getting later. He said he’d be home by now.
I waited for him on his couch, reading a science fiction fantasy book I’d found in his room. I’d just closed my eyes when I felt his arms slip around me. I opened my lids to his face close to mine as he brought me over to his bed. He set me down gently, noticing I was awake. His icy eyes on mine made me shiver. In a nano-second, my heart began stampeding. I don’t know if it was our moment on the roadside, where I told him things I’d never told anyone, but I felt raw and exposed. I needed him to fuck me like we did that first night together, like this was only about sex, so I could feel normal again.
He didn’t. Instead, he pressed his lips to mine, slow and lingering, only amplifying everything I felt on the inside. “I need to take a quick shower. Then I’m going to make up for all the hours I was away from you today. I missed you too damn much.” He dipped closer, whispering against my ear “Get undressed and start without me. Don’t let yourself come. Because I want you wet and on edge and feeling exactly like I do the moment I come back.”
My mouth hung open.
He walked away, headed for the bathroom. I’d been in my head all day, thinking the whole time he’d gone to work to put some distance between us after the l-word roadside thing. But maybe not. Maybe he’d simply had to work today, and now that he was home, I had him all to myself.
I peeled off my clothes, flinging each piece toward my suitcase which was going to be a bit of a mess again. Then, naked, I laid back on his pillow, feeling antsy for him to come back to me.
His shower lasted only a minute or two. He returned a moment later, looking sexy as sin with his towel knotted around his waist. I felt goosebumps light up my skin as I took in his lean body. He came to my side of the bed, loosening his towel. Then he started drying himself with it.
First his hair, leaving it perfectly disheveled. Then he patted at his chest. I had a full display of his entire inked body. My eyes fluttered down south.
“Dani,” he muttered softly.
I looked up at him.
“Touch yourself like I asked.” He had a small, cocky smirk on his face as he said the words. He enjoyed making me squirm. Two could play at his game. I did as he asked, letting my legs fall open, touching myself in a way I knew would get me off in a few short minutes. I closed my eyes, pretending like I’d forgotten he was there with me. But there was no forgetting. I loved knowing he was watching.
“I thought about you all damn day,” he said sincerely. “I thought about this. It was so fucking distracting; it took me twice as long to do everything. It’s why I’m so late.”
“I thought about you too,” I breathed. It was the truth. “Did you pierce any girls today?” I paused what I was doing, opening my eyes to see what he’d say.
Why did this bother me so much? Why did I keep bringing it up? I wanted to be cooler about this. But... I saw red every time I imagined his hands, even if they had gloves on them, even if it wasn’t sexual, on some other girl. Even now, I felt heat burn in my chest just thinking about it. I hated feeling like this. I hated that it affected me so much.
He dropped the towel. Then he climbed onto the bed, on his knees. He lifted me, his hands under my thighs, pulling me closer, positioning me. I breathed in and out steadily, watching as he pressed the head of his erection against where I wanted him most. God, I ached for him. He didn’t fuck around, instead he pressed inside me, filling me.
“No,” he breathed in response to my question, as he pushed deep inside. “I made you a promise. I won’t break it.”
Why did that make me feel so good?
“Thank you,” I muttered, feeling all kinds of ridiculous and shy. I rested my palms on his chest, preparing for him to move, preparing for this to be intense, when I noticed something new. In a spot that used to be blank, and there were very few blank spots, he filled it. The ink looked fresh, his skin red, and it was my fucking name in the spot. Danielle—spelled in pretty, loopy letters that intertwined with everything else around it. He tattooed my name on his chest.
“John?”
His jaw tightened. He saw that I saw, and I don’t think he ever meant for me to notice. But I did notice. I was constantly studying his ink. It was how I was getting to know him. Everything he put on his skin had to be important to him. So, of course I would notice something new. I could tell by the shock on his face he hadn’
t wanted me to see it. He even tried to move away.
But I grabbed his arms.
I was pretty damn strong. All the years of drumming had made me that way, and I wasn’t letting him go anywhere. “Fuck me,” I said.
“Are you mad?”
“No. The opposite. Now move please.”
That was his green light. In the next moment, things quickly became very intense. He pounded into me with all his force, working through some issues of his own, as his lips came to my lips. He kissed me like he needed me to breath, like more went on today that I wasn’t aware of, like I was everything to him.
I cried out against his mouth as the most intense wave of pleasure took me over. I hadn’t been prepared for it and it rocked through me. I went skydiving once. And that’s exactly what this was—free-falling through the open air with that fear your parachute won’t open. He kept kissing me, making love to my mouth, as the feeling between my legs continued.
John came a moment later. He pulled out, not going far, and he exploded against where he’d just been inside.
I thought that was it. I thought he was finished. But just then, John flipped me over. I was still swirling from the first orgasm he gave me, and still sticky from the evidence of his, when he thrust inside me from behind. He was hard and he was rough and he wasn’t letting up. He wrapped a hand around my waist, his fingers playing at my clit, as he continued pushing into me hard, deep, and fast. “Come on, Danielle. Come for me again. Come against my cock.”
His fingers were relentless and dammit if I didn’t come at his command. It was so intense, I screamed into his sheets, cursing him. He wasn’t playing fair. I could tell now that he was angry with me somehow, about the tattoo thing maybe, and he was trying to take it out on me.
Feeling a little shaky after that last orgasm, he pulled me up, against his chest, as he was still buried deep inside me. He rolled my nipples between his fingers. Then he had his hands at my waist, moving me, fucking me like this now.
Never Kiss a Rockstar (Never Trust Book 2) Page 10