Sparks (Wild Irish Silence Book 1)

by Sherryl Hancock

  After a while, she tucked her legs up under her on the chair, and put her chin down on the arm as she watched him. He glanced over at her a few times, but for the most part concentrated on what he was doing. By the time he saved what he’d done, Allex was dying to ask what he was doing.

  “What is that?” she blurted out as soon as he’d taken the headphones off.

  He grinned, surprised at how patient she’d been.

  “C’mere,” he said, holding his hand out to her.

  She took his hand and he pulled her onto his lap. As he put his arms around her, he unplugged the headphones from the computer. Then he ran the program.

  The screen went black, then a line appeared, and out of that line grew the framework for the stage. Piece by piece the stage was built on the screen. Lights were placed, turning on and off as if being tested. Then little nodules were inserted in two places. Before she could ask what they were, she saw what looked like tiny mirrors being placed. The next thing she saw were laser beams reflecting off each of the mirrors, bouncing everywhere and then tuning in to create a kaleidoscope above the stage. Allex watched fascinated.

  “That,” he said as the stage once again lit up, as if for a show, “is the stage design for the tour we’re getting ready for.”

  She turned to look at him, her eyes wide in amazement.

  “You designed this yourself?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I like to know what I’m going to be standing on,”

  “Yeah but …” she said, shaking her head in wonder as she looked back at the simulated stage. “Wow,” was all she could think of to say.

  Brenden grinned. “Didn’t think I had it in me?”

  “I don’t seem to know what to expect from you, Mr. Sparks,” she said, turning around to face him.

  He put his arms around her, one hand at her back, the other at the base of her neck. He kissed her lips hungrily and she responded instantly. His lips left hers, trailing down her neck, and she closed her eyes, leaning back to give him open access to her neck. She felt his hands part the robe, and his lips trail down her skin. Shuddering at the feel of his lips closing over one nipple, she put her hands in his thick hair, holding his head there. She cried out in surprise and excitement as his teeth bit her just slightly, then he slid his tongue over her nipple again. She held his head, her hands pulling at his hair, willing him to continue.

  To her surprise, he lifted her off his lap, and sat her on the desk in front of him, pushing the flat panel monitor back. He untied the robe and parted the sides of the material. His hands smoothed over her skin, almost reverently, as his mouth grazed over her nipples again, his hands doing a lot of damage of their own to her self-control.

  She literally stopped breathing when he went down to his knees in front of her, parting her legs. She was sure she was going to go up in flames right then and there. She was also sure her subsequent screams of pleasure could be heard throughout the house.

  Afterwards he pulled her back onto his lap, kissing her deeply. She kissed him back, still trembling from the orgasm he’d just given her. Slowly but surely she gained her breath again, and then she made a point of repaying him in kind for what he’d just done to her. She was thrilled when his hands grasped at her, pulling her up to lift her and slide her down on him. The excitement of making him that crazy had her reaching her climax with him once again. He was an exciting lover, there was no doubt about that. Things could get interesting she thought as she lay against him listening to his heartbeat, still sitting in his office chair.

  By the time Sunday night came, he was already talking her into staying the night.

  “Brenden!” she said, trying to get out of bed. He kept kissing her every time she tried, distracting her and keeping her there longer.

  “You may as well just stay,” he told her, glancing at the clock. “It’s already ten.”

  “Jesus! Brenden James O’Malley, you are an evil fiend of a man!” she said, trying once more to get out of bed.

  He moved down her body, kissing her skin, touching her, caressing her.

  “God … Bren …” she said, halfway between a moan and a sigh.

  “Do you realize that no one else is allowed to call me Bren?”

  She looked down at him, innately pleased by that for some reason.

  “Do you realize that no one else ever calls me Lex but you?”

  He moved back up to kiss her lips deeply. He slid his tongue over her lips to part them, sliding it inside, to move sensually over hers.

  “Stay the night, Lex, please,” he said, against her lips.

  She knew she was lost already. She never could keep her wits about her when he kissed her like that. The man was beyond dangerous with his incredibly fit body, and sensuality to rival any sex symbol, Don Juan, or player supreme alive.

  “God, you’ve got me so addicted to you again, Bren …” she murmured against his neck as he slid his body inside hers again.

  “That’s exactly where I want you,” he said, his voice deep and husky.

  She gave in, enjoying him again and again that night. Neither of them slept at all. She finally left at nine the next morning, going home and sleeping the entire day. Later that night, she lay in bed next to Max, missing Brenden so much she felt like dying. She knew she needed to find a way to be with him. She had to.

  ****

  Devlin sat on a bench staring out at the ocean. His sunglasses hid his usually bright blue eyes effectively. He was wearing faded jeans, gray leather boots, and a gray T-shirt with a white shirt over it. His shoulder length sandy-brown hair blew in the breeze as he cupped his hand in front of his lighter, lighting his fourth cigarette in the past fifteen minutes. He looked like the consummate rock star. Relaxed, smoking, with his shades on; nothing on the outside gave away the turmoil inside, save for the shaking of his hands when he wasn’t careful to control it.

  Tabitha watched him looking pained. She could see a change in him. He’d lost weight, his hands were shaking, and he was smoking like a train. Devlin only smoked when he was on edge, otherwise his consumption had always been light, compared to Brenden.

  “So, you asked to meet,” he said, his tone mildly irritated. “What is it?”

  “I just,” she began, not sure of what to say, “I want to know that you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine,” he said far too quickly.

  Tabitha looked at him for a long moment, so long that he glanced at her, seeing the doubt etched on her features.

  “What?” he asked, sounding too defensive. “Don’t I look okay?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Tabitha said, her tone stronger now. “You haven’t bothered to take your shades off yet.” She didn’t believe him for a second and he knew it.

  “It’s bright out here,” he said, indicating the beach, “and I have a headache, is that okay with you?”

  Tabitha clamped her mouth shut. She wanted to beg him to talk to her, beg him to stop whatever he was doing. But she could see begging wasn’t going to help.

  She sat back, looking out at the beach. She missed him so much. It felt wrong to her to be so distanced from him. He has always been the one stable thing in her life, the one person she could always count on. Now he was just gone, like he never existed. It hurt her more than she wanted to admit even to herself. It was like he’d just abandoned her. Why? She wanted to ask. The question churned in her head, but she knew she couldn’t ask it. She wasn’t sure what kind of nasty response she’d get from him, but she didn’t want everything ruined to the point of never being able to get past this. They had to get past this, they had to.

  “Devlin, are you doing drugs?” she asked.

  He snickered, his lips twisting in a wry grin. “Another mother in the Sparks family,” he said sarcastically.

  “No,” Tabitha said, getting mad. “I care about you, and I want to know what you’re doing to change you into someone I don’t even know.”

  He turned his head to look at her, and after a few long moments, he
shook his head, looking back at the ocean.

  “Yeah, I’m doing drugs, so what?”

  “Devlin,” she said, her tone aghast, “why? You’ve never done this stuff before. Why now?”

  He laughed again, shaking his head ruefully. “Little girl, I’ve done way more than you’ll ever know.”

  She looked stunned, then shook her head. “Not while I’ve known you,” she said confidently.

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he told her. “I just hid it much better than your father ever bothered to.”

  She opened her mouth to deny what he was saying, but shook her head instead, looking away from him. Tears misted her eyes. She couldn’t believe this, he’d done drugs that whole time too?

  “No, Devlin, you can’t tell me that,” she said. “I know you were sober when you were there with me,” she said, referring to all the times Devlin had been there to pick her up from school, or from wherever else, whenever her father had been indisposed.

  “Yeah, when I was there with you, Tabitha. But not always in between times,” he said, shrugging. “Someone had to be the sober one between me and Beege, I was it.”

  “But …” she said, as she thought of the times when he’d been there for her.

  There had been times when he’d looked like hell, when he looked like he’d just dragged himself out of bed, or the gutter or wherever to be there with her. As a child she’d never noticed, but in later years, she just assumed he’d been working so hard. God! She’d been a fool her whole life?

  “I don’t believe this,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t believe you’ve lied to me this whole time.”

  “I never lied to you, Tabitha,” he told her calmly. “You never asked, I never told you.”

  She swallowed convulsively, willing herself not to cry. This was just too much.

  “Were you a serious partier like Dad?” she asked, needing to know.

  “No,” he said, “I never got into it that heavy, or neither of us would have been useful to you.”

  “Is that why you’re into it so heavily now?” she asked, nailing him.

  His lips curled in annoyance, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. “It’s my life, Tabitha. I have a right to live it.”

  “And if I need you again?” she asked, verging on tears.

  Again, he grinned sarcastically. “You don’t need me anymore, Tabitha, you have your father back now, and you’re an adult. My knight-in-shining-armor days are over.”

  That did it, the tears started before she could stop them. She turned away from him, dying inside from what he’d just said. Devlin closed his eyes behind his glasses, forcing himself not to move, not to comfort her, a reaction that had been almost instant.

  Tabitha longed to feel him put his arms around her again, like he’d done so many times over her life. But he didn’t. She forced herself to stop crying, wiping angrily at her tears with the back of her hand. She turned to look at him, and saw him lighting another cigarette, his hands shaking more than they had before.

  “Are you high now?” she asked.

  He took a long drag on the cigarette, his eyes looking straight ahead.

  “Not high enough,” he said honestly.

  Tabitha nodded, though wasn’t sure what he meant. She assumed he meant not high enough to deal with her. She stood, looking down at him sadly. He glanced up at her, and had to look away instantly. Seeing the pain on her face was more than he could handle. He kept his face emotionless though, he’d gotten good at hiding over the years. In fact, he was a pro at it now.

  Tabitha gave him a long look, as if studying his features, memorizing them. Finally, she nodded sadly.

  “I’ll always love you, Devlin McGregor, for the man you pretended to be all these years. I’m sorry that you never thought I could handle anything but that charade. Then again, maybe you were right, maybe I couldn’t. I don’t know who you are anymore but I do know that I don’t like who you’ve become.” She paused to swallow against the tears welling up in her throat. They came sliding down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she said again, then turned and strode away from him.

  Devlin sat rooted to the spot. He had no idea how long he sat there. It was dark by the time he got up and walked to his car. Once in the car, he sat staring for a long time. He lowered his head to the steering wheel, and gave in to the urge to yell. He felt so sick he could barely stand it. He felt an all-consuming need to get away from everyone and everything. It was eating him up inside. He hated himself more and more every day, feeling like he’d always been a fake, even with his music … Was that what he was? A fake? A liar? He didn’t know.

  ****

  Brenden and Allexxiss were out together. It was a risk, and they both knew it, but they did it anyway. They were going down to San Diego together. Brenden had wanted to get away for a few days. Still having a very difficult time dealing with the arrangements for the upcoming tour, and the album, and also with Devlin’s sudden absence, he needed a break. So he’d asked Allex to go with him for the weekend. Brenden had rented a car, a Volvo, something “non-descript” but with power. He didn’t want people noticing a flashy car. For the most part, it did keep people from noticing them.

  Once they were out of Los Angeles, Brenden put the car into overdrive and put his foot down.

  “You and speed have a thing, don’t you?” Allex asked, smiling.

  “You could say that,” Brenden said, grinning as he glanced over at her.

  Allex shook her head, leaning back in her seat, and enjoying the feeling of just being with him. It struck her often how good it felt just to be in his presence again. It was like the feeling of being complete. It was just right. Every minute that she spent with him, she did her best to absorb everything. She watched the way he drove, the way his profile looked. She looked at his hands, the way his silver rings looked on his hands. The way his rich auburn hair looked in the sunlight. The warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. Everything about him was so compelling to her.

  As she watched him, he grinned and turned the radio up, looking at her.

  “Is this you?” she asked, glancing at the radio.

  “Yup,” he said, nodding.

  She’d long since found out that she hadn’t heard all of his music that day at his house. He’d only had half of his albums there. He’d told her he’d make sure she had all of them eventually. So she was constantly hearing songs that were his now. She could see how Tabitha had been stunned that she’d never heard any of his music. He truly was everywhere.

  Allexxiss watched as he sang along, holding a note for an extraordinary amount of time, seemingly without effort.

  “Is that hard to do?” she asked when there was a pause in the lyrics.

  “What?” he asked, glancing over at her.

  “When you hold notes like that,” she said.

  He considered the question, shrugging. “It can be,” he said. “I like to stretch my range as far as I can take it, so a lot of times it’s hard.” He pointed to the radio. “This song is an old one, so I didn’t really use my range as much in those days. I didn’t even know what I was capable of back then.”

  “And you never had any training?” she asked, having heard that from Tabitha.

  “Nope,” he said, grinning, “just lucky.”

  “I guess,” she said, smiling.

  When that song ended another began, and he shook his head.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Must be a Sparks-fest,” he said, grinning.

  “That’s you too?” she asked.

  “Yup,” he said again.

  In the end, a number of his songs played on the radio.

  “Jesus, did I die and not know it?” he asked. “I feel like they’re playing a memoriam of some sort.”

  Allexxiss laughed. “If you died, so did I.”

  “As long as I went with you, then I’m okay,” he said, reaching over and touching her cheek.

  She smiled at him, he always had a way of making her
feel so good. The next song was very darkly toned, surprising Allexxiss. She caught Brenden looking over at her a few times, sensing that he was watching for her reaction. She heard what he meant by using his range, the song had very low parts, where his voice was almost a growl. Other times it would be raised as if attempting to shatter glass, with such an anguished edge it brought tears to her eyes involuntarily. His voice seemed to know no bounds. It was truly amazing.

  When the last guitar chords died, she looked over at him.

  “Was that from the forbidden album?” she asked, grinning.

  “The forbidden album?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, one that Tabitha told me I should never listen to,” Allex told him.

  Brenden laughed out loud. “My ever loving daughter,” he said, grinning. “She didn’t like that one as much as the rest.”

  “Why?” Allex asked. Tabitha had already told her, but she was curious as to what Brenden would say.

  “She says it’s too dark, too angry,” Brenden said, reaching for and lighting up a cigarette.

  Allex nodded. “Why is it so angry?”

  He looked over at her, his look measuring, then he shrugged. “It was two years after you’d come to LA and not contacted us. I was pissed,” he said simply.

  Allex looked back at him. It really was refreshing to have a man who didn’t play games with emotions or words

  “I’d like to hear it,” she said softly.

  “I don’t think you’d like it,” he said cautiously.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Tabitha’s right, and it’s pretty dark and graphic,” he said.

  “Graphic?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, “it’s got a lot to do with drug use, anger, violence, hate.”