by Nashoda Rose
He yanked me back. “What’s wrong?”
“Getting turned on before I go isn’t a good idea.”
“Why not? I like you turned on and I want you thinking of me.”
I smiled and then leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “Because, panties ruin the line of this dress, so …”
“Fuck.” Ream swore then his hand shot underneath my dress as I squirmed to get away.
“Hands off the merchandise, sexy.” I darted under his arm, laughing, and he dove for me, his fingers just grazing my shoulder. “I’ll see you there.” I made a dash for the door and slammed it in his stunned face.
Before I managed to escape the house, Ream caught me. “You do that for me or the dress?”
Shit, I couldn’t lie. “You.” Because I loved the idea of Ream knowing I was naked underneath it.
Ream kissed me and it was heated but gentle and warm and made me a puddle of goo at his feet. I think he knew it too because he winked and then smacked me on the butt then told me to drive safe.
I arrived at the gallery two hours before the show. I made sure everything was ready, the caterer, the wine. The waitress was Molly from Avalanche, who Lance suggested we ask serve, and I thought it was a great idea. Molly needed the cash and Lance said he’d pay her well.
I fiddled with my art, making sure they were hung perfectly, and then when everything was done, I helped myself to a glass of wine. Molly arrived early too and we chatted for a while. Or rather I chatted; Molly listened with her head down, always staring at her feet. I needed to break her out of her shell or give her to Georgie for a night.
Some of the most prominent men and women in the city packed the gallery, thanks to Lance, Emily, and Brett. Emily shared invitations in the horse community and Brett to his real estate connections. I really had no idea who Lance’s connections were, but I was thrilled at the turnout. A young man and his wife, who had a breeding farm of Gypsy Vanners, bought the set of Havoc paintings, which would set me up well for an entire year and help with a down payment for my own place.
Being most of my work was of horses, a good deal of the thoroughbred racing community was there, including Richard, the developer Emily was currently talking with. She was smart to chat with him now before Logan arrived.
Georgie was currently on the arm of some mystery guy who wore a suit and didn’t look like he’d be with someone that had pink highlights, a smart-ass mouth, and drank too much. She’d whispered to me earlier that he kissed with the sweetness of syrup and the bite of a candy apple. I’m guessing that meant he kissed damn good.
Logan and Ream planned to arrive after the meeting with their manager. Crisis and Kite popped in for a few minutes to show their support, but mingling with this type of stuffy crowd was not their thing. Within a half hour of arriving they made excuses and headed to Avalanche.
I swallowed the last of my champagne and was weaving my way over to Emily when I felt a touch on my hip. I smiled, assuming it was Ream as he always touched my hips. But when I turned I was looking up at Lance.
He took my hand and lifted it to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “Beautiful. Congratulations. A great turn out.”
I pulled my hand from him. I know he was just being polite, but it made me uncomfortable when he held it longer than what was polite. I also didn’t like him calling me beautiful, that was Ream’s and suddenly I was wondering what I ever saw in this guy. “Lance. Thank you for this. The turnout is incredible.”
“That’s all you. All I did was send out invitations. Your work is what brought them here.” He looked briefly around. “Where is your bodyguard?”
My smile was tight at the reference to Ream. “He should be here any minute. He had a meeting with his manager.”
“Ah, yes, the rock star.” I flinched and was about to excuse myself when he ran a finger across the scar on my cheek. “My men haven’t been able to come up with anything. A random burglary gone wrong it seems.”
I raised my brows. “Actually, the police don’t think there was anything random about it and whoever it was knew exactly how to avoid the security cameras in the condo.” I caught Emily’s eye, and she got the hint and started through the crowd toward me. “Listen, Lance, I better go mingle—”
Lance took my hand before I could escape and guided me to the back of the gallery. I didn’t want to make a scene, so I forced a smile as I followed him, my back stiff and my teeth grinding. He led me to the small alcove where I had my largest painting of Havoc hanging. “Lance, I should go—”
He stopped in front of the six foot canvas of Havoc rearing up, dust swirling around her coat and fading from her hooves. “Your best piece. I understand it is of a horse that was shot.”
“Yes. Havoc. But I think—”
He cut me off again and I felt more and more uncomfortable and put my hand on his chest to push him back when he said, “A survivor. Like you.”
My eyes shot to his, not liking the reference to me.
He chuckled, a deep resonating sound that sent shivers through me, and they were nervous shivers. “Yes. I know all about you, Kat.”
I certainly didn’t like the sound of that. “I’ll be moving my pieces out tomorrow morning.”
He didn’t seem at all surprised or concerned. Instead, he stepped toward me and I backed away until I was caught against the wall.
I pushed hard on his chest, not caring that a few patrons saw me do it, then slid out from where he tried to trap me. His hand snaked out and grabbed my arm. “Do you know everything about your boyfriend? ’Cause I don’t think you do. I think he hasn’t told you a single thing about what he was.” I gaped at him then yanked harder, but he kept talking. “I have a hard time believing a beautiful woman like you would be with someone as … soiled as him.”
I gasped, shocked at his insult, and then the rage erupted. I didn’t care if I never sold another piece of art and he blacklisted me. This bastard had no right to say what he just did. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. The sting in my palm felt damn good, and I wanted to do it again when my assault failed to wipe the malicious smirk off his face.
“You bastard.” I raised my arm, but he grabbed my wrist.
I didn’t have to look in order to know he was there. It was so distinct as if every molecule in my body awakened to his presence. And I was glad. I wanted Ream to beat the crap out of him.
Ream’s voice was a low contained anger. “Get your fuckin’ hand off her.” Lance let go putting his hands in the air, smiling. Ream pulled me behind him where Emily stood looking nervous. Logan came to stand beside Ream. They both must have seen me slap Lance, and I suspected from their faces, they heard exactly what Lance said.
“I never fuckin’ liked you. And I certainly don’t like walking in to see you holding my girl while saying shit about me.” Ream’s voice was scarily controlled. “I especially don’t like that she had to slap you to get your hand off her.” Ream was toe-to-toe with Lance “You never deserved her for a fuckin’ second. Her art leaves your gallery tonight.”
Lance didn’t seem at all affected by my scary boyfriend and smiled. But it wasn’t his usual debonair, charming smile. This was tainted. “Deserve? Interesting you should use that word.”
Logan stepped in and grabbed Ream’s shoulder. “Not here. Let it go. This is your girl’s show. Don’t ruin it for her.”
I piped up, “Oh, I don’t give a crap about my show. I just want this bastard’s face—”
“Kat, not the place,” Emily whispered into my ear.
Yeah, she was right. This wasn’t just about me; her clients were here, as well as Brett’s.
Ream suddenly turned, grabbed my hand, linked our fingers, and started pulling me through the patrons. He stopped. “Washroom?”
I pointed to the right and he didn’t say anything as he headed for the hallway.
I glanced over my shoulder and a cool shiver went through me as I caught Lance watching us. And it wasn’t a friendly watch. The
n I saw Molly staring at us with a tray of champagne in her hands. Her face wasn’t hidden by her hair, and I saw her eyes narrow and lips pulled tight. She’d obviously heard or seen the exchange between Lance and me. Maybe that girl had some backbone after all.
I tripped in my high heels and Ream steadied me with a hand around my waist, but he didn’t let up until we were locked behind the closed door of the bathroom.
He backed me into the wall, grabbed my chin in a bruising grip, then before I could take another breath, he kissed me. No, it wasn’t a kiss; it was a possession that spun out of control. And God it was hot. He groaned as he gripped my hair and tilted my head back to deepen his kiss.
His body slammed me into the wall, and I gasped at his roughness, but a jolt of pleasure encompassed me. I lifted my leg to rub up against his thigh, and he grabbed my ass and lifted me up so I could wrap both my legs around him. I could feel my skirt stretching across the bridge between us, and all I wanted was to rip it off and have Ream sink inside me.
“Baby,” Ream growled against my mouth causing a sweet vibration.
“You nearly lost it.”
“I didn’t.”
“But I wanted you to.”
He stopped kissing me, grabbed my chin, and we locked eyes. “You did?”
“Yeah. I wanted to see his douche bag ass on the floor.”
“Fuck, Kat. Marry me.” I gasped. “It doesn’t have to be now, but promise me one day, you’ll marry me.”
It was my turn to freeze and it was like a whale’s tail had just slammed into my chest and if I wasn’t against the wall, I’d have staggered back. He wanted to marry me?
“Don’t look so shocked.” I cried out when he nipped my neck—hard and then tenderly licked and suckled. That would leave a mark and my guess was that was what he intended. “Where did you think this was leading? I want you to be my wife more than anything. I was waiting to ask you when I knew for certain you’d say yes.”
I raised my brows. “So now you’re certain I’ll say yes?”
“Fuck yeah. You stuck up for me, then slapped that slimeball across the face. It was the most amazing sight I’ve ever seen. Even though I was pissed off as fuck that you had to do that, I was so turned on and proud of you all at the same time.” He kissed me again and this time it was so tender it made my knees weak. “I can’t wait to make you my wife, and yeah, I trust that you’re going to say yes.” He paused and made sure I looked at him before he continued, “I’m fucked up, baby. My past is shit and even though you don’t know all of it, you get that. I’ve been dead for all these years and you’ve cracked through the shell. I can’t ever go back into that darkness.”
“Is that where you go sometimes?”
He flinched and I waited. “Yeah.”
“You going to tell me at some point?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Okay.” It was enough for now. At least he admitted that there was something.
Then it was my turn to kiss him and moan and feel the emotions sinking into me. It was deep and real and raw—it was us.
I let my legs slide down until my feet touched the floor. Then he yanked my dress up to my waist as I undid his pants and pulled a condom from his pocket and slipped it on him. Then he lifted me up again, his hands squeezing my ass, as he sunk deep in one thrust.
I groaned in pain-pleasure at the sudden intrusion. Then he moved inside me and I kissed him, forgetting all about Lance, the gallery, and all the guests outside the door.
It was fast and hot and it was Ream making it known I was his, but he didn’t need to prove it anymore. I was his. He was a little screwed up, but so was I, and he was mine.
Neither of us said anything as he straightened my dress, and I zipped up his pants. Then I smiled, meeting his eyes that still burned with desire. “Yes.”
He grinned. “Fuck, yeah.”
***
He stroked my head, slow caresses that made me want to vomit. But I’d done that already. I had nothing left in my stomach.
“You know what to do.” He touched himself and it jerked.
I did. It had been eight months and I’d learned what was expected of me.
I slid down and lay like I was supposed to.
Then I did what he wanted while he held my head making certain I didn’t pull away.
It was three days after the gallery incident and Ream invited me to the recording studio. Emily was going too because the boys had a new song and they wanted us to hear it. Logan was pretty damn hot singing—shit, he was mesmerizing—but Ream … Ream was serious and intense and he became the music, as if his guitar was a part of him. The day he’d sung to me at the pub was something special, and I’d take that over him singing with the band any day. But this was exciting too, and I couldn’t wait to hear what they were recording.
Emily and I met them there around six before they wrapped up for the evening, and we were introduced to Dan, the sound guy, who patiently explained to us what he was doing; although all I saw were thousands of buttons and switches.
The band went on the other side of the glass, and after ten minutes Dan asked if they were ready. Logan nodded.
I sat beside Emily on one of the high stools, and we tapped our feet to the music. It had a slow feel to it, except when it came to the chorus and then the guys’ voices got all raspy and deep sending goose bumps across my skin. My eyes never left Ream, and I didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with him any more, but I did. And I got what Emily had been saying about falling in love with Logan all over again every night while on tour.
Ream … There was something about him when he sang, there was that hint of unsteady darkness he always had lingering.
Okay, he was also super-hot. Tats, guitar … I got why the women were all over him. I’d have to deal with that because despite trusting him, I knew I’d be jealous.
The song was magnetic and touching, the words hauntingly beautiful, about a woman broken and torn and her fight to find her way back. Then a man who will never give up on her, how pieces of him die every time she cries. How they find one another and heal. It wasn’t like anything I’d heard before. When I looked at Emily she was crying.
“Our guys did good.” I reached over and wiped away the tears with the pad of my finger.
“He wrote it for our wedding,” Emily said.
“Damn, missy. That’s hot.” I looked back through the window and Logan stood at the microphone, his hands wrapped around it while Ream talked to him, but his eyes were on Emily.
Then Ream looked at me and I smiled giving him a thumb’s up and mouthing, “You’re mine.” He must have got it because he half grinned then winked.
When Ream came out he grabbed me by the ass and picked me up off the stool. I had to wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck in order to stay balanced. Then he kissed me and I didn’t care that Crisis was hooting and hollering and Kite was laughing. All I cared about was kissing Ream.
Afterwards we went to Avalanche and it wasn’t busy being so early on a Friday night. Usually the crowd started rolling in around eleven, plus Matt didn’t have a live band tonight. We ate and drank and I loved how Ream’s hand rarely left my leg. I noticed it tighten a few times and he’d stiffen, but as soon as I looked at him, he’d kiss me and I’d forget all about what was unsettling him.
“I’ll be back, beautiful.” Ream got up and left the table. I saw him head to the bar and say something to Brett, and then they both disappeared in the back. It was odd; Brett and Ream weren’t close or anything.
Emily drew my attention away from Ream and Brett when she mentioned Raven, a girl who’d been trapped in the sex trafficking in Mexico with Emily. “Her real name is London Westbrook.”
Yeah that made sense. I didn’t know much about sex trafficking, but I bet real names didn’t exist once you were brought into that hell. “Did he tell you how she’s doing?”
“She’s disappeared.”
“What?” The last I’d heard, D
eck had taken her home to her parents in New York. “When?”
“Been gone a few weeks. It looks like she ran away. Deck called Logan a couple of days ago and wants us to keep an eye out for her. He says she may try and come back here.” I didn’t think so. The girl held a gun on Emily. “Deck’s working on something big and has all his men with him except one.”
“And that one is on Georgie,” I said. Because Deck would never leave Georgie without one of his men watching her. I didn’t know what he thought would ever happen to her, but it was so usual now that it was no longer unusual.
Ream slipped in beside me again and then dragged me onto his lap. Well, it wasn’t really dragging because I went willingly. I think he partially did it because there were a few girls who recognized the band and started to hang around. Ream nuzzled my neck and I leaned back into him, loving how his one palm splayed underneath my shirt against my skin.
“What did you talk to Brett about?”
I shivered as his fingers caressed my abdomen with a feathered touch. “Nothing, baby.”
I reached around behind him and curled my hand into his hair. “That answer isn’t cutting it, hot stuff. Spill it.”
It was Crisis who saved him from my inquisition as he started singing and tapping his hands on the table to the beat of the song playing. Everyone laughed and Kite joined in, picking up a spoon and a knife and drumming on the table.
It was a good night and it was even better that Ream was with me, holding me, and I knew we’d be going home soon … and having drunk sex.
I swallowed the rest of my beer and noticed Molly was busy so I slipped from Ream’s arms, who was chatting with Logan about the album, and headed for the bar. Okay, so I was still curious about what went down between Ream and Brett.
“Brett.” I smiled at him and he nodded while he served a girl, who then slipped him a card to which he took and placed in his jean pocket.
He walked over and slammed a palm down in front of me. “Vodka?”
Whoa, where was his usual banter? His scintillating blue eyes settled on me and there was no wink, no smile. “You not get laid last night or something?”