Hidden in the Stars: HITS (a Falling Stars novel) Book 2

by Sadie Grubor

My dick hardens, every growing inch gliding along the smooth skin at the back of her thigh. Reflexively, my hips press forward, my balls tightening.

  Sliding my hand over her stomach and between her thighs, I slip one finger through her lips. One swirl around her clit and she moan softly. Second swirl, her ass pushes back into me. My cock jumps, smacking against her leg.

  I slip one finger inside, finding her so wet and ready, even in sleep. My name falls from her lips in a part growl, part sigh.

  I pull my finger out and grip the inside of her thigh, my slick fingers sliding on her skin. Lifting her leg onto mine, my fingers dig into her flesh. I position and plunge deep.

  Her body arches, giving me ease of access. Releasing her leg, I palm my way over her hip, stomach, until I can cup her breast.

  "Oh, God," she moans, placing her hand over mine.

  Bending my knee a bit more pushes her legs open wider. I can get deeper, go harder.

  "Fuck, Jackson," she whimpers, meeting my thrusts. "Harder. Fuck me harder," she demands.

  And I lose my fucking shit.

  Tightening my hold on her tit, my pelvis slams against her ass. My balls tighten and tingle. My dick throbs in anticipation of the release, a burn at the base of my spine growing, wanting to break free and consume my body in flames.

  Liza's hand leaves mine, sliding down until she touches between her legs. Lifting my head from her neck, I watch her circle and rub her clit.

  "Come on, baby. Get yourself there," I groan, watching her fingers increase in speed.

  The sight is too much. I look away, burying my face in her neck once more, hoping I can hold off from coming too soon.

  Shifting my hips, I thrust and grind.

  "Yes," she calls, her fingertips brushing against my cock. "Yes, I—” The cry of her release cuts her off.

  Moving my hand from her breast, I push her legs closed and pump fast and hard to release.

  "Fuck," I growl against her neck, grazing my teeth over the skin where it meets her shoulder.

  Breathing heavily, I wrap her in my arms and hold tight.

  Liza squirms, pulling on my too-tight grip.

  "Sorry," I whisper, easing my hold.

  She doesn't say a word, just lays her arm over mine. Entwining our fingers, we hold hands against her chest as she falls back to sleep. The beat of her heart is a bassline etched in my soul.

  Giving her a light squeeze, I take a deep breath. Exhaling, I've never felt so right. Where I should be fucking scared of letting this woman in, it feels like nothing I've experienced. Not with anyone. Fucking Chris is right. This is my one, my Mia.

  Entering the kitchen on a mission for coffee, I stop and take in the set up at the kitchen bar. Sid sits with her back to me, headphones covering her ears. Two large screens in front of her, along with a mini laptop, two cell phones, a keyboard, three black boxes, and a slew of wires. Random numbers and images flash across one screen while another shows what looks like audio software.

  Shuffling into the kitchen, I go straight for the dark, delicious ambrosia. Lifting the sleek pot to my nose, I inhale and drop my head back in a silent prayer to the coffee gods.

  "You're welcome." Sid's voice startles me. Not because I forgot she was there, just because I didn't expect her to speak.

  I turn around, coffee still in hand, and she looks me over, unabashedly. I suddenly feel like I should've thrown on a shirt with the black basketball shorts.

  The headphones now around her neck, she takes her hands from the keyboard and crosses them over her chest. When her eyes make it back up to my face, she raises her brow.

  "What exactly should I be thanking you for?" I ask, reaching toward the counter on my left and picking up a mug.

  She uncrosses her arms and removes the headphones completely.

  "If I hadn't stayed on the couch till the wee hours of the morning, my cousin wouldn't be naked and in your bed right now." Elbows to the table, she puts her chin in one hand. "She is naked, right? Please tell me she's naked and preferably covered in love bites with aches in all the right places."

  Unsure how to respond to that, I busy myself by returning the coffee pot back inside the machine. Since I take my coffee black, I’m out of further distractions.

  "Do your tattoos cover your entire body?"

  Her question brings me back to face her.

  "Yes." I step around the kitchen island and stand on the other side of the bar. "And thank you." Sipping the coffee, I close my eyes, reveling the flavor.

  "You should be thankful, 'cause my neglected lady parts aren't seeing any action in this deal." She clears her throat and continues. "I have two questions," she states, continuing before I can object. "Did she come to you or you to her?"

  For a moment, I'm not sure this is information I should share. The look on Sid's face tells me there is no damn way she will be ignored. Setting the mug on the counter, I lean onto my hands and level my eyes on the interrogating brunette.

  "We sort of met on the balcony." I study her face upon my response.

  She sighs, rolling her eyes. Then, in an exaggerated move, she throws herself back on the stool.

  "You went to her," she groans.

  "I didn't say—"

  "Look," she cuts me off, "I know my cousin, probably better than anyone else."

  "And?" I press.

  Hell, the more I learn about Liza, the fucking better. Maybe this is a sneaky way to get the information, but I'll be damned if she'll be walking out my fucking door. At least…not without her hand in mine.

  "And the woman you know isn't the girl I grew up with." She shrugs.

  Grasping my mug in one hand, I raise my brow in question and take another sip.

  "The girl I grew up with was carefree and crazy." Sid grins, her eyes getting a far off look. Shaking her head, she continues. "You don't get pregnant at fifteen without a bit of a rebellious streak."

  Slipping from the stool, she rounds the breakfast bar and goes to the coffee maker. She pours herself a mug and adds sugar and milk before returning to her seat.

  "And the woman in my bed?" I coax her to go on.

  Eyeing me thoroughly, she blows over her mug, sips, and sets it down in front of her. Elbows on the counter again, she narrows her eyes.

  "The woman in there plans just about every second of her life. Having Lucas and coming out here, her dream was stripped away. At least, that's what she believes." She takes another drink.

  "You want the rebellious girl back?" I question, uncertain where she's going.

  She shakes her head. "No, Jackson. I want Liza. That's not her." She thumbs over her shoulder.

  "I'm not saying I don't understand, but if she's happy with how things are why—"

  Sid snorts. "She's not happy. Liza is merely surviving."

  She leans her body further forward, and instinctually, I lean in, too.

  "Haven't you seen the difference when she performs? I mean, with the way you watch her, you have to have seen it."

  I straighten. She's absolutely fucking right. Liza comes alive under a spotlight, in front of a crowd. What I saw on stage yesterday evening…that was Liza, my fucking snake charmer.

  "I see you get it." She grins over her mug. "I think you help bring it out in her."

  She tilts her head.

  "Is that so?"

  "Yeah." She nods. "But if you fucking hurt her again, don't think for one second I won't ruin you. You heard some of my past last night. I've never been arrested or caught, so don't press your luck." The gleam in her eye and the wicked sneer on her face surprises me, but it's the 'hurt her again' part that feels like a knife in my chest.

  This girl is fucking scary.

  "Warning received."

  Her face goes neutral and she takes a deep breath. After exhaling, she nods, settling back on the stool, completely relaxed.

  Really goddamn scary.

  "Alright, now that we got that straight, question number two."

  "Shoot." I half-grin, putting
my mug to my lips and take a larger drink now that it's cooled.

  "Do you have ink in your pen, Jackson?" Her eyes drop to my waist.

  The coffee goes down the wrong pipe and I spit what remains onto the counter.

  I gasp for air, coughing so hard my chest aches. Sid sits, smiling and sipping at her coffee.

  "I'll take that as a solid yes." She sets her mug onto the counter, picks up the headphones, and puts them back over her ears.

  I stumble to the sink, spitting and coughing. Looking back once in her direction, she's completely engrossed in her screens.

  A heavy hand slaps my back.

  "You okay, man?" Kel asks from behind me.

  "I," cough, "think so." My eyes stay on Sid.

  Kel takes stock of my face and then looks at Sid.

  "Ah," he says, nodding and smiling, "I see. Sid threaten you?"

  I shift my eyes to him, keeping my mouth shut. Maybe I shouldn't discuss anything with her family at all.

  "By the look on your face, she totally did." Kel pulls open the fridge door and bends down, pulling out a white jug. "She's totally serious, too."

  It's not a threat, not from Kel. He's just confirming what I already know.

  "But she means well," he adds, patting my shoulder.

  "She's fucking scary," I whisper. Keeping my eyes on her, I make sure she doesn't read my lips or some crazy shit like that.

  Kel shrugs, snagging an apple from a bowl on the kitchen island.

  "Yeah, but it's cool as hell to hear about the stuff she can do with a computer." He grins, leaning against the island and taking a bite of the red fruit. Around his mouthful, he continues, "Like, right now, she's working on that Kristy girl. I wouldn't want to be her. She messed with the wrong person."

  "Liza?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

  "They're more like sisters than cousins."

  I nod, understanding.

  "Is there only fruit to eat?" Luke's sleepy voice pulls my attention from Sid.

  "Hey, Luke. I'm not sure." Turning, I open the kitchen cabinets, finding them completely stocked. Score! "Who want's pancakes?" I pull out a box of mix and grin.

  Chapter Twenty

  Eliza

  I roll to my back, stretching my limbs. Pleasant aches throb in different locations of my body. Propping up on my elbows, I look around the sunlit room.

  The bedding is all over the floor, except for the sheet tangled around me. The balcony door is wide open, but I can still smell sex lingering in the room. Dropping back, I cover my eyes with my palms.

  What the hell am I doing?

  I kick the sheet off my body and stand. Feeling a damn stickiness between my legs, my fingers instinctively reach down. Bringing my hand up, I sigh.

  Damn it. Did the condom break?

  Then, last night's round two flashes into mind.

  Shit. No condom. Well, that's just fucking great.

  Wrapping the sheet around my body, I walk to the balcony door, silently calculating when I had my last period.

  A week and a half, give or take.

  Entering my temporary room, I see the bed has been slept in and groan internally.

  I'm going to be interrogated.

  A long time ago, I learned it's best to just tell her everything and get it over with. Because eventually, you would tell her—she'd make sure of it. Like back in eighth grade, when I wouldn't spill who gave me a 'secret' love note. Sid spent our lunch period walking to each guy, pointing down at them and screaming across the cafeteria if he was the guy. If I didn't love her so much and know everything she did was never in malice, I may be serving a life sentence right now for murder.

  Dropping the sheet, I grab denim capris, two layering tank tops, and underclothes on my way to the bathroom.

  After washing away the evidence of last night, I dry off and dress. I comb my hair and dig in my cosmetic bag for my anti-frizz serum. Untangled and scrunched, the waves start to form. I pull a hair tie off the end of my brush and slip it around my wrist. Examining my face in the mirror, I grab my face lotion, which also helps fight acne—the stage makeup is starting to do a number on my skin. I mentally make a note to arrange an appointment with the dermatologist and a spa.

  I walk down the hall with bare feet, my steps silent, though the noise from the kitchen would've masked any noise I could've made. Rounding a corner, I freeze next to the dining room table.

  Sid sits in an electronics haven, Kel's taking cups out of a cabinet, and Jackson stands at the stove, shirtless, flipping a pancake. Lucas and Sean stand on either side of him, fists full of something I can't make out.

  "Okay, drop them in," Jackson instructs.

  The boys bring a fist over the pan and drop chocolate chips. Jackson flips the pancakes.

  "Grab the plate," he orders. The boys rush to get a platter of stacked pancakes and he moves the now-done food onto the plate with the others.

  "Morning, sis," Kel calls out, bringing cups to the dining room table. "Breakfast is almost done." His head nods toward the stove.

  Looking back at Jackson, his eyes meet mine. A smile spreads across his face.

  "Morning, babe." He licks something off his thumb, causing my pulse to race.

  "Good morning," I say, my words just above a whisper.

  The kitchen scene shakes me. I don't hate it—not at all. I like it too much. Nerves assault my stomach.

  "Mom," Lucas comes toward me, a dish of butter in his hand, "Jack's making pancakes." He slips the plate onto the table next to me and wraps his arms around my waist.

  I place my hands on his head and snuggle close to him.

  "He let us help." Sean carries a bottle of syrup and forks, a super large grin on his face.

  "Well…" I swallow the emotion, "that's awesome."

  Lucas pulls back, smiling up at me.

  "Sit down. I'll get you a plate."

  We release each other and I sit, watching my son. I'm not sure if it’s confidence or just excitement, but there's something new about him. When he goes to get plates, he grins wide and adoringly at Jackson, who winks at him.

  My stomach flips, worry tampering any appetite I had. I shouldn't have come here. He can't get used to this…this life. This isn't our life. It's a temporary allusion to what some people have—not us. Jackson may like having sex with me and enjoy my family, but I don't think he's looking to stick around with a mother of two, and Kel makes three.

  "Get out of your head," Sid says, pulling me back to the present.

  "I'm not awake yet." I shake my head, looking at the plate Lucas puts in front of me.

  "Yeah, okay." She sits in the chair across the table from me. "So, how was your night? Was the bed comfortable?" She smirks.

  My eyes widen.

  "It was fine," I say through clenched teeth.

  "Only fine?" Jackson pulls out the chair next to me. "Well, looks like I'll have to fix that, won't I?"

  Grinning, he pulls in close to the table.

  "That's not—”

  Before I can finish, he grips under my chair and pulls. Our thighs practically share a seat. My head snaps to Lucas. He's forking three pancakes onto the plate in front of him. The grin he wears overjoys me. He's so happy.

  I lean into Jackson, and whisper, "Thank you."

  Straightening, I grab my glass and the jug of orange juice in reach.

  "For?" Jackson leans close to my side, his hand coming to my thigh.

  I swallow down the not-appropriate-for-breakfast feelings he inspires and pour a half-glass before looking at him.

  "He looks so happy," I answer, keeping my eyes on Lucas.

  "They're both good kids." His hand leaves my thigh and he turns his attention to the table. "Let's eat."

  Yeah, he's happy now, but when this all ends, it will crush him.

  Stomach full of chocolate chip pancakes, the boys lounge on the couch watching some annoying cartoon. Kel loads the last plate in the stainless steel dishwasher before excusing himself for a sh
ower. Sid sits at her geek station, eyes shifting and fingers dancing across her keyboard.

  Wanting to check in with my caseworker regarding Sean's case, I lean against the kitchen island, my cell to my ear. I leave a message and exhale heavily. Setting my phone on the counter, I pick up the coffee Jackson poured before going to shower. Knowing I need to have a talk with him about last night and this morning, I rub my forehead, not looking forward to the conversation.

  "This bitch is cray cray." Sid's outburst draws me away from thinking about the lack of condom use and my son's attachment to Jackson.

  "What?" I walk around the island and stand across from Sid. I put my hand up about six inches from the back of the monitors. "These things are putting out some heat."

  "Yeah, they've been running since five this morning." She shrugs and taps the keys before pointing to the screen. "She must have no idea how to clear her phone."

  Sid snorts, shaking her head.

  "Her phone?" I choke on the question. "You stole her phone?" My voice raises, drawing Lucas and Sean's attention.

  "Nooooo." Sid puts on her innocent face.

  "So, you don't have her phone?" I cross my arms over my chest, raising one brow accusingly.

  "I didn't say that." She grins. "I said I didn't steal it," she clarifies.

  "Then how—?"

  "Did you know Kat has really fast hands?"

  "Kat?"

  "Hushed Mentality Kat." Sid gives me a duh look.

  "She stole the phone?" I ask in a breath.

  Sid stops typing and turns, meeting my eyes.

  "Kristy left her phone on a table at a club last night and Kat happened to find it for her." She smiles sweet and guilty. "Una's going to let her know it was found."

  I open my mouth, but Sid continues.

  "Once, I finish…" she teeters her head back and forth, "checking to make sure it wasn’t damaged."

  Keeping a straight face, she looks back to her screens.

  Bringing my elbows down on the counter, I bury my face.

  "Oh my God,” I groan. "You're going to jail and I don't have bail money."

  "Who's going to jail?" Jackson enters the room in full freshly-showered swagger.

  "Me." Sid raises her hand.