[Off Track Records 01.0] Detour

by Kacey Shea

  “Being a father is more than knocking someone up. It’s more than sending a paycheck.”

  She opens her eyes, then narrows them with a glare. “The past is the past. He needed you now. He needed your forgiveness. You let him down. I will never forgive you for that.”

  “We’re done here.” Trent’s deep growl cuts the tension that bounces between my mother and me. “Lexi, let’s go.”

  My mom’s manic laughter sours her already scowling face. “And now you have your own lead man. Real rich. Who’s the stupid woman now?”

  “I said enough!” Trent tugs me to his side, his arm around my waist. His jaw works back and forth before he speaks to my mom again. I’d say something, but I have nothing kind to contribute. “Everyone has had a long, difficult day. Let’s not make it worse with words we can’t take back. We’re leaving now.”

  My mother drops her gaze to the floor, her shoulders sag, and she shakes her head as she turns around and wanders back inside the house. A good daughter would stick by her side and stay the night, but we’ve already established that I’m not. My body trembles with anger, and the feeling reverberates through my hands as I clench them into fists.

  “Let’s go,” Trent says, but this time it’s not a demand, it’s a suggestion. He’s giving me the lead—the control to call the shots—but I happen to agree with him wholeheartedly. As I move toward the door, he never stops touching me, never leaves my side.

  We leave the same way we arrived.

  Together.

  35

  Trent

  Lexi doesn’t speak during the trip from her dad’s house to our hotel in downtown San Diego. Not when we check in, nor on the ride up to the eleventh floor. She doesn’t even comment on the extravagance of the suite. We could have stayed at my place in the Hills, but I wanted to be closer to her father’s place in Mission Beach. I anticipated we might be going back and forth, but never expected we’d be too late. Or that her mom would be so hateful.

  Her shoulders droop as she sinks into one of the oversized chairs with a view out over the bright lights of the city.

  I drop our bags near the door and kick off my boots before finding her gaze has moved from the window to me. “Do you want to talk about what happened today?”

  “With my father?”

  “No. With your mom. Are you okay?”

  “Am I okay?” She tilts her chin to return her attention to the view outside, or maybe her own reflection in the window’s glass, and exhales in a rush. “That’s such a loaded question, Trent. I don’t even know how to answer.”

  I move closer, holding my hands out until she takes them and stands to meet my stare. “It’s okay to not be okay. You know? It’s okay to be pissed off, angry, sad.”

  “What if I’m not?” Her eyes widen with open honesty.

  “Not what?”

  She flicks her lip ring with the tip of her tongue. “What if I’m broken? Because my dad died today, Trent. My father. The man who supposedly asked for me in his last hours. And you know what I feel right this second? I feel fucking relieved. Relief. That’s what I feel right now. That’s so fucked up and I know it.”

  “You’re allowed to feel that way, Lex. There are no rules or protocol for dealing with loss.”

  “But normal people, they’re sad. They wish for more time. More memories. Me? I keep thinking how I never have to worry about running into him now. About not having to fight with my mom when she begs me to call him. About having to pretend I’m normal when everyone tells stories about how much they love him. I fucking hated him, Trent. Part of me is so glad it’s over.” She sags into my arms and I hold her tight.

  “I’ve got you, Lex. I’ve got you.”

  “You probably think I’m a horrible person. I understand, I do. And I’ll understand if you’re done.”

  “Done? Lexi, do you think this is gonna make me run? I’m not leaving.”

  “But if you want to . . .”

  I lean back so she can see how serious I am. “No. I’m not fucking leaving. Do you get that? I’ll never leave. Not even if you ask me to. Not even if you push me away. If you run, I’ll chase you. I know how fucking creepy that sounds, but I love you, Lexi Marx. I fucking love you.”

  “My stalker.” She rolls those gorgeous eyes.

  “I prefer boyfriend, but you know, we can work on the title.” I dip my chin, brush my lips over hers once, twice, and relish in the way she clings to me, gripping my shirt in her hands. When we break apart she meets my gaze with no mask, and her vulnerability shines through wide eyes.

  “It’s so hard for me . . . For me to believe you mean that. I hear the words, but I still worry you’ll change your mind. If I wake up tomorrow and you’re gone, I won’t be surprised.” She glances away. “You sure you want a girlfriend like that? One you have to run after?”

  “Lexi.” I grab her shoulders so she can’t turn away and she has to meet my gaze again. “I want you just as you are. And we both know I’ll chase you at a speed more like a swagger. You know, my hair, my clothes, I need to look good while I’m chasing you.”

  “I love you, Trent,” she whispers and my heart skips a beat. I swear it does.

  “I love you, too. I’ll say it until you believe me. I’ll show you, I’ll prove it every damn day of our lives together. I’m not going anywhere. Not when you hold my heart.”

  “That was almost songworthy. You sure you don’t want to take a crack at writing another duet?” Her lips pull up until a smile transforms her face.

  “Let’s not get carried away. Besides, I have a better plan.”

  “Mmmm . . . Does it involve Mr. Trent and your wicked tongue?” She takes a step closer so our bodies are flush, and rubs her palm down the front of my pants. “Because I could go for that.”

  Fuck. She really is the perfect woman for me. That’s why I have to show her, to prove we deserve each other. I circle her wrist with my fingers and remove her hand before my body forgets that. “That’s later. Come on, let’s go before I change my mind.”

  She laughs, a soft, throaty sound and shakes her head. “Okay, but do I have time for a quick shower? I promise I’ll be fast.”

  “Sure.”

  She slings her bag over her shoulder and walks to the bathroom.

  Pulling my cell from my back pocket before I sit on the edge of the bed, I realize I still have it set to block any incoming messages. I switch it back on and my screen floods with notifications. Messages, missed calls, and voicemails from Sean, Austin, and Mom scroll down the screen so fast I don’t know where to start.

  I click on the most recent message first, a text from Sean that contains a screenshot from one of the bigger tabloids.

  RICHIE SANDS’ ESTRANGED DAUGHTER HIDES IN PLAIN SIGHT

  Daughter of rock legend Richie Sands left the limelight after being estranged in her teens, but inside sources reveal she is none other than up and coming rock sensation, Lexi Marx. The star has been touring with Three Ugly Guys this summer and if she’s anything like her father, rumors that she’s dating not one, but two of the well-known rockers is no surprise.

  My stomach drops as I scroll to see the photos of her and Sean walking back from our wing challenge in Baltimore, her and I kissing backstage after a show, and pictures of her as a child with her dad. Shit. She doesn’t need this now. How the hell did this happen?

  The shower turns on in the bathroom and I don’t waste any more time checking messages. I go to my contacts and click on Bedo’s name. He picks up on the second ring.

  “We have a problem,” I bark into the phone.

  “Don’t tell me you’re not coming back tomorrow.”

  “I’m not coming back tomorrow.”

  “Damn it, Trent!” He’s not happy but tough shit.

  “Richie passed away today. I’m taking a week off and so is she.”

  He cusses under his breath. “People die, Trent. You can’t bail on this tour.”

  I get it, I do, the predicament I’m placing
him in, but there’s no way I’m leaving Lexi to deal with the aftermath of her father’s death on her own. “I need a week, Bedo.”

  “Three days.”

  “Six days.”

  “No more than four.”

  I blow out a breath and lift my gaze to the ceiling. With the power Richie had, I’m sure we can rush the process along, whether his wishes were for a burial or cremation. Money and fame have a way of expediting just about anything, even after death. “We’re taking five, and that doesn’t include today. But that’s not why I called.”

  “You’re killing me, T. What else is wrong?”

  “Who leaked the story?” My anger returns as soon as I spit out the words.

  “They would’ve found out anyway.” Bedo brushes it off like it’s no big deal.

  “How’d they get those photos? The ones of me and her backstage.”

  He sighs through the line and I can almost picture him rubbing his temple. “You weren’t hiding your relationship very well, Trent. It was only a matter of time.”

  “So, you sped up the process?”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “What do you want from me? I’ve rolled with all your punches. Done right by you guys, and given you more freedom that you probably deserve. Hell, you still don’t have an official drummer, but I let that shit go. Now you’re canceling shows last minute, in prime summer tour season. That sets us back hundreds of thousands of dollars and risks your reputation in the industry as well as with the fans. And why? All so you can hold your new girlfriend’s hand. But you’re mad because I’m willing to do whatever it takes to not go down in a sinking ship.”

  “That wasn’t your call to make.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Trent. I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve always done right by you. I always do.”

  “It sure as hell doesn’t feel that way now.”

  “Enjoy your mini vacation. You better get your ass on that airplane next week, ready to play some music.”

  “Five days.” Those are the only words I manage to grind out before ending the call. I skim my remaining messages, but noticeably, none are from Bedo. I know he’s behind this sudden news leak; the timing along with his non-admission can’t be a coincidence. Maybe he has his reasons. Maybe he thinks he did what was best. But it creates a fracture in the trust I’ve afforded him ever since we signed with Off Track Records years ago. “Damn it!” I grumble and turn off my phone again. I’m not ready to face this or any other problem tonight.

  “Hey.” Lexi opens the bathroom door with the towel wrapped snugly around her chest. Her hair is combed back and drips water onto her shoulders. Droplets roll over her curves until they disappear into the valley of her breasts, begging to be traced with my lips.

  Mr. Trent perks up at the sight.

  “My face is up here.” Her lips tug upward with a smile. “I’ll be ready in five. Nowhere fancy, right? I’m not gonna do my makeup.”

  “There’s been a change in plans.” I push off the bed and stalk toward her. I should tell her about the story being leaked, about my suspicion that Bedo was behind it all, but that can wait. Right now I have to kiss her, touch her, and hold her.

  My lips cover hers and my fingers grab the fabric of the towel to pull it free.

  “Does this mean we aren’t going out?” she says between kisses, her fingers finding their way into my hair and pulling me closer still, as if she can’t get near enough. I feel the same.

  “We will.” I trail my lips down the side of her neck. “But first I need to be inside you.” I drop to my knees and cup her breasts. They’re full and a perfect fit for my hands and I squeeze them together. Her nipples harden to points and my mouth captures one to suck.

  “Nothing wrong with a detour.” She pants, holding my face to her breasts.

  My fingers skim their way down her belly, over her sex, and into her folds. She’s already wet and ready. I groan before releasing her nipple with a pop of my lips. “Quickly. Then we go.” I stand and claim her lips but continue fucking her with my fingers. Her wetness mixes with the rhythm of my fingers, her breathy moans the bass beat of the most erotic soundtrack. One I could listen to for the rest of my life.

  “Yes,” she says. “Fuck me, Trent.”

  I shuffle backward, never missing a beat with my kisses and my finger play, but once my calves hit the edge of the bed I release her to shove my pants down my hips.

  Lexi grins, flips that fucking sexy lip ring, and shoves at my chest so I fall back. Of course I let her, because I love it when she gets like this. When she takes the lead.

  I grip the front of my shirt and barely get it off before she’s straddling me, her pussy just inches from where she strokes my erection from base to tip. It’s a challenge to decide where to look—her eyes all lit with lust, her breasts heavy and swaying, or my dick at her slick entrance. When she rubs the tip of my cock through her folds, just a tease, she makes the decision for me.

  “Fuck, that’s so hot, Lex. I want to be inside you without a condom.”

  Her gaze heightens with desire and she nods her head. “You want me to sit on this cock, don’t you?”

  “Fuck yes, I do.”

  “And ride you ’til I come?”

  “Please. Yes, do that.”

  “Okay,” she says, all sass, and lowers herself until I’m sheathed inside her tightness.

  “Fuck.” We both groan in unison.

  I can’t hold back any longer. I grip her hips, the skin soft and smooth, and encourage her to move. “Fuck me. Ride me. I want that come,” I say and that’s all it takes for her to move from the unhurried swivels of her hips to serious fucking. Her tits bounce with each gyration and I tease one nipple. Squeezing. Pinching. My other hand goes to where her body connects with mine and my thumb finds her swollen clit. I rub tiny, fast circles that spur her on.

  Primal. Moans and groans that bounce off the walls in time with our pleasure. Wanton. She chants my name, a whisper on those gorgeous lips and I have to get closer. Ecstasy. My hand leaves her breast to grip her neck and I bring her down at the same time I push my shoulders off the bed so I can claim her lips. Our breaths mingle. She’s close and so am I, but I will not come until she does.

  She rides me, harder still, and my fingers thread through the hair at her nape to pull it into a fist and tug.

  “Come, Lexi. Fucking come for me,” I growl into her ear.

  “I always do.” She pants. Her entire body slides up and down mine, her breasts pressing into my chest, and I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from exploding before she does.

  That’s it.

  Both of my hands grab her hips and she has to steady herself above me as I thrust up into her, giving her everything I am, as hard I can.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” Her chanting increases to almost a shout and I feel the exact moment she reaches her release. Her wet pussy squeezes my cock, a demand for my come. That’s what sends me over the edge.

  Our breathing is heavy and Lexi collapses onto my chest, my dick still inside her, and as we both struggle to find an even heartbeat, I can’t help but know this: Right here is exactly the place I am meant to be. Lexi’s my home and, no matter where we go, as long as we come together like this, my soul serves its intended purpose.

  She picks up her head and settles her chin over my chest atop the backs of her hands, a playful grin on those lips. “That kind of undid my shower.”

  A chuckle leaves my mouth and my hands stroke up and down her spine, delighting in the goosebumps that cover her flesh from the movement. “But totally worth it, right?”

  “Meh.” She shrugs, that grin pulling wider.

  “Meh?” I narrow my stare in mock irritation. “I know you came hard. I felt that pussy squeeze my dick.”

  Her eyes darken at my words and when she speaks it comes out all husky. “You have such a dirty mouth, Trent Donavan. I like it.”

&n
bsp; “I love your mouth too, sexy Lexi.” I flex my abs to sit up with our bodies connected. “Let’s try this shower thing again. I really do have somewhere to show you.” I stand and she squeals, grabbing my shoulders tightly as I walk us to the bathroom.

  “Can’t wait,” she says. Her eyes hold my stare and I kiss her to return the sentiment. I really can’t wait for what the future holds, as long as I have this woman in my arms.

  “Trent. This place is amazing.”

  I glance across the table for two, my smile as big as hers as she takes in the view. This little rooftop sushi bar provides us with privacy and romance. The city lights play like a choreographed dance on one side and the waves roll in and out with a melodic crash at the other. It’s a soundtrack to the hustle and bustle of the ocean city, and the low hum of some indie rock station pipes through the restaurant speakers.

  “It’s awesome, isn’t it. When you told me you liked sushi I knew I had to bring you here.”

  “When did we talk about food?”

  “Over pancakes in Charlotte.”

  “Oh.” She glances down at the table, and reaches out to grip her glass of pinot noir. “That was before we were together.”

  “I’ve wanted you since then, but I didn’t think I deserved you. No, that’s not true. I didn’t deserve you, but I’m trying to correct that. You’re too good for me, Lexi Marx, but I love you anyway.”

  “I love you, too.” She finishes her second glass of wine, and I refill both our glasses. Our server is perched at the bar and leaving us alone now that we demolished our meal and the dinner crowd has thinned out. I’m sure they’re closing soon, but they recognize who I am, maybe Lexi too, and they’ll stay open for as long as we like.

  “This was exactly what I needed.” A deep sigh leaves her lips and her gaze meets mine. “Thank you for today. I’m sorry about my mom.”

  “You don’t need to apologize for her. She was horrible to you.”

  “She was, but she lost the love of her life. She’s lashing out. My mother always put him first, or tried to until he wouldn’t let her. I don’t know. My family’s pretty fucked up.”