Hartstrings: A Jaded Regret Novel (Jaded Regret Series Book 3)

by L. L. Collins

The way I liked it.

  Johnny and Bex had gone upstairs to their room over an hour ago. I knew their routine. Playing a big show was an aphrodisiac for them. Shit, everything was an aphrodisiac for them. They did it more than I did. If that was possible. I couldn’t imagine feeling that way about one person.

  I felt that way about busty blondes who let me do them in every position and then push them sweetly out the door, happy to tell everyone they had slept with “the” Tanner Hart.

  Johnny tried to talk to me all the damn time about it like he knew me or some shit. He thought because he used to sleep around that it made us alike.

  He had no idea.

  None of them did.

  My reputation was that I was a manwhore. I slept around and wouldn’t commit. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth, either. I knew there were entire social media groups talking about the size of my junk. It was a thing, apparently.

  Not even my band knew the real me. They thought I was this pretty boy, All-American guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants. I liked it. It fit the persona I’d spent years building.

  Tanner Hart had a pretty face, a nice body, and could play bass guitar like nobody’s business. He’d had the perfect life in suburbia.

  If only they knew.

  “See you tomorrow.” April touched my arm, and I smiled up at her. I loved that woman. She not only was perfect for Beau, but she also fit right in with all of us, too. She smiled over my head at Natalie, who sat next to me nursing the same glass of wine she’d been drinking for over an hour.

  Natalie.

  I sighed, glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. I could guess she was the reason Blondie hadn’t come over to proposition me yet. Though if she was a groupie, she’d already know who Natalie was.

  I loved Natalie. She was gorgeous, charismatic, dedicated…and I didn’t deserve someone as good as her. I knew she had a thing for me. She had for years. If I was honest, when I’d first met Jaded Regret, the main reason I wanted to be part of the band was to nail her. But that quickly changed.

  Not because she didn’t turn me on—because she did. I think I spent the first year hiding a semi every time she was around. But her being Beau’s sister, coupled with her wanting more than a roll in the sack meant I kept it tucked in my pants. It was better for all of us. I loved them all like they were the family I never had, and that meant not crossing that line.

  Not that it wasn’t hard.

  No pun intended.

  The way Natalie watched me, like right now as she studied my profile, made it increasingly hard not to do what she wanted me to do. Especially with the alcohol coursing through my system. I was a man, after all. I had needs.

  And I needed to focus those needs on the willing hottie across the room, not the one sitting next to me.

  Natalie signaled the bartender and it caught my attention. When she ordered shots, I lifted an eyebrow at her. What was she doing?

  Within seconds, the bartender set a shot glass in front of both of us, filled with amber liquid. I glanced at Natalie, a question in my eyes.

  She shrugged. “Let’s celebrate.”

  “Celebrate what?” I fought the desire to push the loose hair back behind her ear. You don’t want to touch her. You need to think about someone—anyone—else.

  Natalie smiled. “Another successful Jaded Regret show. And that we are the last two here.”

  She was right. Never in my life had I thought I’d be part of a band that not only made it, but made it huge. We had security standing right behind us; the team that protected us expanded significantly over the last few years. Heath was now only Bex and Johnny’s security.

  The fact that we needed security was crazy.

  Natalie was our manager, but even she would get accosted sometimes. She was hot, and she did know everything about us. Not to mention, if you saw Natalie, it probably meant the rest of us were somewhere close.

  “You mean we’re the last two who don’t have someone to go upstairs and bone?” I downed my shot, knowing she was watching me. I nodded at her. “Your turn. You ordered it. Drink up.” The burn of the strong alcohol traveled down my chest and into my stomach.

  I watched as Natalie picked up the shot glass and lifted it to her succulent lips. She put them on the rim and then shifted her gaze over to me. I sucked in a breath as she darted that little pink tongue out and tasted the shot. Her eyes crinkled and closed momentarily as she realized how strong it was.

  “No pussing out on me.” I nudged her. “Take it all, Nat.” Just like that, a vision of her kneeling in front of me, taking it all, popped into my head. I needed to cut that shit out. She tipped the glass back and drank it, shaking her head at the burn of the alcohol.

  “Shit.” Natalie coughed slightly, then slammed the glass down on the counter. The bartender watched her with amusement.

  “Fill us up.” I held out the glasses, and he obliged. If I had to sit here and fantasize about having her in every position possible, I’d at least feel no pain while doing it.

  I had no idea how many shots we ended up taking by the time Natalie turned her glassy eyes to mine. I knew she didn’t drink all that much, but tonight she had matched me every time. I knew how drunk I was, and I was much bigger than her.

  I’d lost sight of Blondie long ago because I’d been so busy watching Natalie take shot after shot and giggle at the hilarity of everything.

  “You’re drunk.” I put that damn piece of hair behind her ear that I’d wanted to touch for hours now.

  “Nuh-uh. You’re drunk.” Natalie giggled and then hiccupped. “Oh shit. I need to stop. I’m sorry. I wanted to have fun together.”

  “We have had fun.” My gaze dropped to her low shirt, exposing the full cleavage I’d jerked off while imagining about more than once. I knew I needed to get my ass off this stool and get to my room. I was no longer in any place to find a partner to warm my bed for the night, but if I didn’t get out of here soon, I’d regret what would happen next.

  “Tanner.” Natalie traced her finger down my chest, igniting a trail of fire in its wake. Just the way she said my name had my dick stirring from his resting place. No, Tanner. You can’t.

  “Natalie.” I tried to mimic her tone, but I found my voice to be flat and monotone.

  “Why don’t you want to fuck me?”

  I coughed, wishing for a glass of water that I could guzzle and forget I ever heard that question. “W-what?”

  Her gaze was pinned directly on me. “You will fuck anything that walks. You take these groupies into your room with you, fuck their brains out, and then dismiss them, yet you won’t even give me a second glance. Why? What’s wrong with me?”

  I opened and closed my mouth, not having an answer for her. The alcohol swam around my brain, and nothing came to me to say. Not a damn thing is wrong with you, I wanted to tell her. You’re too damn good, too perfect for me, Natalie. I don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. Natalie was good, sweet, and would make someone a great wife someday.

  Not me.

  Never me.

  “Am I not your type?” Natalie wouldn’t let this go. I knew she was too drunk to remember what she was saying to me because she’d be mortified to say anything like this on a regular day.

  Two more shots appeared in front of us, and I downed mine without looking at her. I wished to wake up in my hotel room with that no-name blonde sucking me off and not here, having to push Natalie away in my drunken state.

  When she didn’t move to take her shot, I picked it up and downed it. I knew she watched me, but I didn’t have any answers for her.

  Her hand rested on my upper thigh, and I froze. She leaned closer to me and put her lips against my ear. I could smell whatever shampoo she used, and it made my already half-mast dick harden further. No, Tanner. You can’t do this. Somewhere inside me, reality was still talking. But it was clouded by alcohol and years of lust.

  I wasn’t listening to reality.

  Fuck reality.<
br />
  I wanted to fuck Natalie.

  “Come to my room, Tanner.” Her warm breath caressed the side of my face. I could smell the alcohol she’d had, and I knew this was a bad idea. It was a terrible idea. I’d hate myself tomorrow. Beau would kill me. I’d fuck everything up.

  But I no longer cared.

  I turned my face so we were mere centimeters from kissing. She gazed at me, her large doe-like eyes examining me closely. She was…perfection. “Nat…”

  Her hand moved closer to my ever-hardening package, and I covered my hand with hers. “Tell me you don’t want me, Tan.”

  I don’t want you, Nat. My rationale screamed, but my drunken mind wouldn’t listen.

  She smirked. “That’s what I thought. I don’t want anything with you, Tan. Just give me this night.”

  But I might want more once I taste you. I nodded, not trusting myself to say a word.

  She slid off the barstool and kissed my cheek. “Room 4511. Give me ten minutes.”

  I watched as she walked away, then slammed my head down on the bar in front of me. I was so fucked. Literally and figuratively.

  “Fill me up.” I held out the glass to the bartender. If I were to go down in flames, I’d at least enjoy every fucking second of it.

  * * *

  I stumbled down the hallway, stopping for a second to hold onto the wall. Jesus, Tanner. Get a damn grip. It wasn’t like I couldn’t hold my alcohol, but I was sure as shit acting like some novice. It was Natalie, I decided. She’d fucked me up in the head. It had been ten minutes, right? I had no idea. What did she need ten minutes for, anyway? Oh, fuck. She was going to come to the door with some hot as fuck lingerie on. She was going to kill me. I knew it.

  The alcohol muted the voice in my head screaming that Beau would murder me, Natalie would kick me out of the band once she realized I didn’t want anything more with her, and Johnny and Bex would have my balls for touching her. I knew this. I did. But all my blood had rushed to my dick, along with the rationale that had stopped me from doing this exact thing for the last several years.

  Why tonight? What was it about her tonight? I wasn’t sure if it was the realization that she and I were the only ones left not attached to anyone, my revved up libido from playing and not taking a groupie back with me, or the way her soft touch had ignited a fire throughout my body.

  I stopped, running my hand through my short hair. What the fuck room number had she said? My vision blurred, and I swayed, reaching out for the wall again. I had no business going to see her. I needed to go to my room and pass out.

  2511. The number popped into my head just as I spotted the nameplate outside the room. Yes. That had been it. My dick jumped in anticipation. I’d finally get to see Natalie Anderson naked. I’d get to feel her warm heat surrounding me. I’d get to know what it’d be like to bury my face in her full breasts and run my hands down her slim hips. My fingers tingled as I thought about what her supple body would feel like under my expert touch.

  How many times would I make her come?

  Would she suck? Swallow?

  Let me put it wherever I wanted?

  A reverberating crash shook the wall I stood in front of, and it stopped me in my tracks, erasing the fantasies of Natalie and dissipating the alcohol in my system. The sound took me back all those years, and my blood ran cold.

  I stood stock still in the middle of the hallway, waiting for what I knew would come next. When nothing came, I shook my head. Had I been hearing things? Had I had that much to drink?

  The silence made unease crawl across my skin. It was quiet, too quiet. But now I wasn’t sure which room the noise had come from, or if…

  Natalie.

  What if something happened to her? What if she’d been so drunk she crashed into something and lay bleeding on the floor?

  I had to get to her. I walked to the door and pounded, my heart pulsing in my ears. There was no answer. I hit the door again, reaching for my phone to call Beau to get him to help me.

  “Natalie!” I tried again to get her to answer the door.

  Just as I was about to hit Beau’s name on my phone, the door swung open. A large man, rage twisting his features, met my gaze.

  “What the fuck do you want?” Shirtless, his heavily veined and deeply corded muscles flexed and strained with each angry breath. Sweat dotted his forehead. His belt buckle was undone, his pants hardly zipped. An angry stare met mine, rage twisting his features.

  His jaw, speckled in day old stubble, was set in anger, and he seemed like someone I wouldn’t want to fuck with in my current state. I’d obviously interrupted something…private. Shit.

  “I-I’m sorry.” I backed away, holding my hands up. I was too drunk to get into a fight with a hothead. “Wrong room.” This was not Natalie’s room. Fuck. I’d royally screwed up, and now my rationale was back. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t fuck Natalie.

  Movement behind his coiled body caught my attention, and I zeroed in on a figure huddled on the floor, just out of direct sight of the door. Her scared gaze lifted to mine, and that was when I figured out exactly what it was I saw.

  Glass. Broken all around her. Blood seeped from her head. Her blond hair was a total mess, streaked and matted crimson, and she was naked, hugging her knees to her chest.

  My attention snapped back to the man still standing in the doorway, and that was when I noticed his knuckles smeared with blood. He’d hit her or thrown something at her. Or both. That had to have been the sound I heard while I was in the hallway. It seemed like beer bottles smashed all around her.

  Blind rage flooded my system. I stepped into his personal space, my chest almost touching his. “What the fuck is going on in here?” My hands shook as I clenched them, ready to take this asshole down. There was nothing that pissed me off more than a man who thought it was his place to hurt a woman. I’d put up with that for too many years as a scared little boy who couldn’t do anything about it. Now I could do a lot about it.

  “You need to get the fuck out of here. This isn’t any of your business, pretty boy.” He started to shut the door, but I was faster. I stuck my hand out, effectively pushing the door back open. He might’ve been strong, but so was I. The hours in the gym came in handy. He puffed up his chest and reached out to grab my shirt, but I stepped back. He tried to intimidate me, but he didn’t understand.

  There wasn’t any intimidating me. Not when, right in front of me, I saw a woman being abused. More than likely not for the first time, but if I had anything to do with it, the last time.

  A sob from behind us distracted me for a second too long, and the asshole punched me in the stomach. The alcohol sloshed as I doubled over. He was a fucking pussy. This is how he got his kicks. He didn’t fight fair, obviously. He beat the shit out of his woman and then took a cheap shot at me.

  I straightened, kicking the door shut behind me as I stepped into the room. I slipped my phone back into my pocket. The woman cried softly behind us, but I couldn’t turn my attention to her. I had to take care of this abuser, right here and now.

  “You think you’re some sort of hot shot, beating your woman?” I stood toe to toe with him, daring him to try and come at me again. I knew I had more muscle than him, and I also had adrenaline.

  “Kenz, get my phone and call the police.” His voice was low and threatening. I shifted my gaze over to the woman he called Kenz and shook my head slightly. Her lip trembled as she shifted her eyes back and forth between us.

  “If anyone calls the police, you’re the one getting arrested. So please, go ahead and call them. I’ll gladly tell them what I heard.”

  “What you heard was none of your business. What my woman and I do in here is none of your concern. You are in my hotel room threatening me. I could kill you right now and claim self-defense. You busted into my room, and I had no idea what you were capable of.”

  “You’re right about something.” I clenched my fist, preparing for what was to come next. “You have no idea what I’m capable
of. Does it make your dick hard to hit women?” I pushed him back. He stumbled momentarily and then righted himself. His gaze shifted over to the other side of the room.

  That’s when I saw it.

  A gun.

  I pulled my arm back and slammed my fist into his face before he could get any smart ideas to run for the gun. I heard the cracking of his nose as my fist connected with it. Blood spurted from his face as he dropped to his knees. I used the opportunity to kick him in between the legs. He fell to the floor, and I wailed on his face.

  He wouldn’t ever hurt her again.

  I had no idea how long I hit him for, but my arms and chest were covered with his blood, my muscles screamed, and my chest heaved with exertion when I felt a small hand on my arm.

  “S-stop.” Her large blue eyes were filled with tears. “Don’t kill him. It isn’t worth it.”

  Despite the dried blood on her face and the bruises I could now see marking several spots on her body, she was breathtaking. She was still naked, and while I could appreciate that she had an amazing body, that wasn’t where my focus was.

  I broke eye contact with her and glanced down at the asshole who had done this to her. Blood seeped from a cut on his head, his nose, and his mouth. He was passed out. I climbed off him and stood, glancing between the two of them.

  What had I done?

  What should I do now?

  “Let’s get this blood off you,” she said. She was going to take care of me? Oh, no she wasn’t. “Then you have to get out of here. Once he wakes up, he’s going to be more pissed than he was before.”

  “I’m not leaving.” I walked to the sink and began to scrub my arms and hands. I flexed my fingers, knowing I’d be sore the next day. “We need to call the police.”

  I wet a washcloth to give to her and saw a robe hanging on the back of the door. I walked out of the bathroom and held it out for her. She allowed me to put it on her slight body while she shook like a leaf.

  “Did he say your name was Kenz?”

  She shook her head. “I hate that nickname. My name is Mackenzie.”

  “Mackenzie, I’m Tanner.”

  She nodded, tears dripping down her face. “You have to go.”