Lost in the Beat

by Gracen Miller

  “You’re more difficult than complicated.”

  He canted his head to the side. “Explain.”

  “You’re conceited—”

  “Is it conceit or fact?”

  “—and you think you should always get what you want.”

  Busted on that one. “Name me one person that doesn’t?”

  “I don’t always expect to get what I want.”

  He smiled. “We’re back to my question from earlier. What do you want, Fallon?”

  “Not you.”

  He’d already proven that to be a lie. He let it go for the moment. “What I meant earlier about women like you…who will hire women who have celebrity babies?”

  “Someone will hire me.”

  He was sure someone would. Eventually. But…“You’re great on paper, darlin’. Easy on the eyes, but you bring a host of problems. The moment the press starts hounding you at work, you’re gonna lose your job. Again. It’s not fair, but it’s reality. I didn’t make those rules, and I can’t undo my celebrity status.”

  Fallon blinked fast praying the tears that threatened her vision wouldn’t fall. “I almost hate you.”

  God, she sounded like a whiny bitch, and she abhorred women like that. The pity me routines weren’t her style any more than the self-loathing card was.

  Unfair to blame Jase for her problems, she saddled him with the load anyway. If she’d never gone to his concert, hadn’t stood in the line with her sorority sisters, and he hadn’t picked her out of the crowd, her life would be much different right now. Life had dealt her so many unfair circumstances. Blaming someone else felt good for a change.

  What was she going to do about Jase? He’d made her an offer, and as much as she wanted to accept, she feared he’d break her heart in the process like Fang predicted. He wouldn’t be able to help himself. She’d have no one but herself to blame if she put herself in his unrefined grasp. He’d asked if she thought he could be faithful. She figured he could be faithful the moment all women but one vanished from the earth.

  “You don’t hate me.” Jase set his glass on the coffee table and slid off the arm of the sofa, onto the seat. He drew her down to sit across his lap. His arm rested over her thighs, gripping her opposite hip, while his other hand continued to fiddle with her hair, dislodging the bun she’d fashioned. She should’ve protested the position, along with his touch, and she couldn’t say why she allowed him to navigate her into his lap. “I get you’re frustrated with your circumstances, but you’re a long way from hating me.”

  She wished he were wrong. She wanted to hate him, but she detested her situation the most. The choices she’d had to make and continued to make weren’t the most ideal.

  I give Faith security and damn myself. Her only real choice was to suck up her pride and make the best of her life. Faith’s needs were more important than her pride.

  “Can’t you try and be a little more accommodating? Let me take care of you until you figure out what you want.”

  I want you. But he offered all the guarantees of an STD. A host of dilemmas, paparazzi fanfare she couldn’t get rid of even with a strong antibiotic, and a lifelong stigma. Then again, he wasn’t promising her forever. He just wanted to play house while it was a novel concept.

  Most of all, she wasn’t sure her pride could tolerate him funding her life. Handling that blow for Faith was bad enough, could she do it for herself?

  “Not like I have much choice.” She would’ve slid off his lap, but he tightened his hold, letting her know he wanted her to remain right where she was located. His erection was hard against her thigh, and it should’ve made her uncomfortable but instead provided her a distraction.

  “Again, I extend the offer to pay for your college.”

  She shook her head. With Faith in her life, med-school was a lot of commitment, and she’d have to miss a lot of her daughter’s life to reach that goal. Instead of telling him that, she simply said, “No thanks.”

  He sighed as if she tired him.

  “What could I do that would allow me to earn an income and not deal with the press?”

  Deadpan he said, “Move to Mars.”

  Now she sighed, frustration making her tense.

  “Turn and straddle me, darlin’.”

  The topic change confused her a moment. Once she caught up, she shook her head. “Are you crazy? I already feel that…thing against my thigh. No way am I getting even more intimate with it.”

  “You’re not real good at pretending you don’t want my thing in your pussy.”

  Why his crassness aroused her while scandalizing her she couldn’t fathom, but her wide-eyed gawp landed on him anyway.

  He chuckled when he caught her expression. “Your shyness is cute.” But his gaze said it was a challenge.

  His hand tensed on her nape, and he pulled her down until their mouths crashed together. No teasing this time, he plunged his tongue inside to twist with hers. A dominant kiss, staking his claim, and defining his desires, while showing her he controlled her. A kiss designed to ready her to be fucked by the master of seduction.

  He shifted their positions so her back was slanted against his chest, with his hand cradling her head. All the while he kept his mouth sealed to hers. His other palm landed on the inside of her thigh and ran downward to the back of her knee. Hooking his fingers in the bend, he tugged and anchored her foot on the sofa next to his knee. His fingers snarled in her hair. He nipped her bottom lip and met her eyes.

  As he licked where he’d nipped her, his finger plunged into her wet channel. Fallon arched her head against his hold and cried out his name in shock. His pupils expanded, and she couldn’t make out where the black ended and the sapphire began.

  In that moment she realized he’d altered her position for ease of penetration. With her leg bent at the knee, her foot secured on the sofa next to his knee. The other dangled off the sofa on the side of his other leg. The position had given him easy access to slip his hand beneath the waistband of her yoga pants. She’d been so wrapped up in his kisses she hadn’t paid enough attention to the details.

  Damn, he is good.

  “Easy, darlin’.” He rubbed his lips against hers, while trapping her gaze with his. “You need this worse than I do.” He angled her head, straining the muscles in her neck, but she ignored the stretch in favor of the startling pleasure he crafted between her thighs. “Don’t close your eyes. I want them on me when you come. I want you thinking of me when you come.”

  Oh. God. That request is hot.

  Their breaths mingled as he finger fucked her. In. Out. His thumb slid along the apex of her pleasure. She arched her hips against his touch, and he grinned, letting her know he was pleased by her response.

  In. Out. Thumb circling.

  Despite her best efforts to contain them, tiny, strangled whimpers left her throat, each a benediction to his dexterity. A second finger joined the first, and she groaned, digging her nails into his jean-clad thigh and the arm of the chair, securing herself before she piloted to another universe.

  Heat spiraled from their connection and traversed her body in mini-shudders that made her skin super sensitive. Her nipples beaded so hard the cotton of her bra abraded them.

  “Fallon, say my name.” His lips moved against hers when he spoke. The way he watched her was hot. “Say my name.”

  “Jase,” she whispered, then climaxed so hard she saw spots behind her eyes.

  “Fuck, yeah.” He placed wispy kisses along her mouth, cheek, and jaw, his breath erotic little puffs that weaved an atmosphere of a false sense of connectivity.

  Caught up in the orgasm, she trembled against him until she thought she would pass out from the bliss.

  Best. Orgasm. Ever.

  When the final wave of her climax rolled through her, she wilted against him. Those talented fingers continued to stroke her, and she realized that was why the pleasure had lasted so long. He’d drawn out her enjoyment for as long as he could.

  His move
ment ceased, and she blinked, her gaze focusing on his features. Dark eyebrows slashed over sapphire eyes. He peered at her. All hardness was eviscerated from his face. A sense of satisfaction radiated from him. She’d have expected him to brag about his conquest. Instead he dipped his head and kissed her, a soft union with an edge of something she couldn’t place. Trailing his lips across her cheek, he buried his face in her neck. They remained frozen like that for a long moment.

  “This doesn’t mean I accepted your offer.” Her voice was scratchy from all the moaning she’d just done. “I’m not your girlfriend.”

  She felt him smile against her neck. “I never suspected you’d change your mind that easily.”

  “I don’t know if I can ever be your girlfriend, Jase.” After what he’d just done for her, she felt selfish, like she’d used him for her needs and given nothing back to him in return.

  “Why?” He lifted his head.

  “I’m not sure you’re ideal boyfriend material.”

  “Oh, I know I’m not. I’m a dirty boy, and dirty boys aren’t for good girls like you. I’ll teach you filthy things.” An ironic twist tore up his lips. Even that was sexy on him. “But your real problem is you don’t think I can be a one-woman type of guy.”

  He read between the lines very well. “I think you’re going to break my heart. Faith—”

  “Faith has nothing to do with what’s between us.” His fingers exited her body. He cleaned them off the same way he had earlier. With. His. Mouth.

  She bit her cheek to stifle her groan and looked away.

  “I can make all sorts of promises, but actions speak louder than any words.” Using the thumb and index finger he’d had inside her, he gripped her chin, and turned her face toward him. “I have no desire to hurt you, but I’m man enough to admit I have my own doubts when it comes to being a good boyfriend. I’m an ass more times than not.” Most would never admit to that characteristic. “I tend to react before I think. I’m oversexed and high maintenance, but despite all my imperfections I like to think I’m a decent enough guy.” Translation—he thought he deserved a chance. “But I’m curious, Fallon.” He released her chin, and his fingers gravitated down the center of her body, leaving a fiery trail of awareness. Halting at the juncture of her thighs he tapped her clit softly through her cotton pants. The light raps caused her breath to hitch. “What makes you think you won’t break my heart?”

  The tabloids painted him as a heartless bastard, with a devil-may-care attitude, but her brief time in his company detailed a much different story. He was devoted to Faith, loved his sister, and had claimed his band mates as family as well. He was loyal to a fault to those he loved.

  She was an only child, and she wasn’t as close to her parents as he was to his family. A sad reality, but true, and she worried she’d be incapable of letting herself get that close to someone.

  “I don’t know if I like you enough to be in a relationship with you, Jase.” Just because he made her body sing, didn’t mean they were meant for one another.

  The random circles he created above her pubic line kept her attuned to him physically. “So I’m good enough for a lay, but not a relationship.”

  “I didn’t say that!” That description made her sound like…him and his cold, impersonal relationships with his groupies.

  He stopped his erotic touch and removed her hand from his thigh. He placed a kiss against her wrist. “I fucking dislike the taste of my own medicine.”

  “Jase—”

  “I’m a big boy, I can take the harsh truth. I fucked women that I would’ve never considered having a relationship with.” He moved, leaving her on the sofa, as he knelt over her, trapping her in the corner of the sofa. He captured her face between his palms, his navy gaze ensnaring hers as effectively as his body. “Good thing I have a couple of months to convince you I’m worth the gamble.”

  “What makes you think you won’t break my heart?”

  That question refused to vacate Fallon’s head. On the surface there was nothing fragile about Jase Collins, but she sensed deep down there was a vulnerability in him that indicated he wasn’t as confident as people believed. For sure not as confident as he wanted others to believe.

  Yeah, he was assured about Hot Wired’s fame because the guys put effort into their band. But she wasn’t so certain he believed he deserved love.

  If that was the case…

  I can’t fix him. She had enough issues of her own to deal with. Adding his to her equation was out of the question.

  Wearing a pair of sweats and the T-shirt she’d worn when she met Jase, she ambled down the stairs to the kitchen to meet Sam. Today was ‘spa day’ and while Jase’s sister was excited, Fallon lacked the same enthusiasm. She didn’t even know what ‘spa day’ entailed, but unable to extract herself from the invite, she’d relented. Sam had welcomed her into her home so going with her was the least Fallon could do.

  She found Jase in the kitchen again. For a man that normally slept until noon, he was making a habit out of meeting her for breakfast.

  “Morning, darlin’.” He sent her an appreciative glance and did a double take. A rakish grin ate up his face. “Jesus proved he loves me when he sent you to me.”

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Sam interrupted with a screech.

  “Ain’t it obvious, sis?”

  “You’re destroying my kitchen.” His sibling stomped to him and snatched the spatula out of his hand. “There’s grease all over my stove. You are cleaning this mess!”

  She whacked him with the kitchen utensil in the center of his chest, leaving behind an oily stamp.

  “Ow,” he mouthed as Sam adjusted the temperature of the stove and flipped the bacon.

  A gleam entered his eyes when he noticed Fallon checking him out. She couldn’t resist, he was eye candy, and she knew that goody-trail below his navel led to good times. Better than a coffee high.

  He strolled around the counter and went out of sight. She presumed to clean the grease off his chest.

  It shocked her when his lips pressed to the backside of her ear and he whispered, “You wanna lick me clean?”

  Yes. “Pass.”

  He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her lobe and scattering goose bumps along her flesh. “Hmm…I wonder what you can do with that mouth as dirty as it is with all those lies.”

  Sam plopped a stack of bacon on a tray in front of them, along with a bowl of scrambled eggs. “It’s too early in the morning for that shit, Jase.”

  He palmed Fallon’s shoulders and massaged. Startled by his innocuous touch, she didn’t want to make a big deal out of it in front of his sister.

  Sam looked between them. His kneading felt nice, but his sister’s probing stare left her uncomfortable.

  “Like you and Fang aren’t getting it on every five seconds,” he said, his breath puffing against the top of her head. Was he smelling her hair? Otherwise, he was too tall for him to be so close. “Loud enough the neighbors should hear y’all. There’s not an octave high enough to wipe that from my hearing bank.”

  “Revenge is best served cold.” Unsure what Sam meant by that, she dismissed their bantering and dove into the food. She was starving. Sam joined her, and chewed on a piece of bacon, all the while contemplating her brother. “Why were you cooking? Better yet, why are you out of bed?”

  “Don’t make a big deal out of it, Sam.”

  Whatever his sister saw on his face, Sam’s gaze lowered to Fallon for a brief second before jerking back to him. “Mmhm…I’ll get right on that.”

  As an only child Fallon had no clue what’d passed between Jase and Sam. She envied the ease of their relationship, as well as their obvious love for one another. There was a connection between them she’d never shared with anyone. Maybe one day she could give Faith a brother or sister, and she’d experience the same type of bond.

  Since arriving at the spa, Fallon had undergone a much-needed trim of her hair, with the hairstylist bragging about how women
paid good money for Fallon’s hair color. Silly her, apparently because she’d always wanted to be a brunette or blonde.

  Mani-pedi’s had turned her hands and feet soft. An all-over massage rendered her drowsy. She’d had no idea people could pamper themselves so well.

  Afterward, they’d gone shopping for the perfect outfit for her to wear to the interview tomorrow. Sam said the clothes were going to turn heads. It was just jeans, a blouse, and a pair of boots—all ridiculously expensive—nothing special about any of it. Except they were new, which Fallon hadn’t had in a long time.

  She’d expected to be bored today, but she’d had fun. Sam obviously visited the spa often because she was known and well liked. She’d shown off pictures of Faith that even Fallon hadn’t seen, making it obvious Sam was smitten with her niece. She’d bragged to everyone that she was an “auntie” and that her niece was the sweetest, prettiest baby ever born. They’d all oohed and aahed over Faith’s pictures and then went on to tell Fallon how beautiful her daughter was.

  Now they entered Sam’s favorite ice cream shop. It wasn’t all that busy, and she was pleased by that stroke of luck. Fallon worried about being caught by the press again, but Rain was nearby so she knew they were safe even if the pap showed up.

  “What do you want?” Sam peered at the menu.

  “What’s good?” Desserts were a luxury she couldn’t afford.

  “Fang likes anything with chocolate syrup and peanuts. I’m partial to the milkshakes. Omega likes everything up there, but he’s an ice cream slut.”

  “Who’s Omega?” Fallon didn’t recall the name.

  “Oops…sorry. I forgot you’ve not met him. He’s gonna join us in a bit, but he’s my bestie. You’ll love him.”

  Okay. A male bestie, that was different.

  “Um…how about the choco-cara sundae.”

  Sam ordered their sweets while Fallon snagged a table near the back of the establishment. If they perched near the windows, anyone could see them through the panels, and she wanted to avoid the paparazzi like she would the flu.