“I’m so glad.” Shep squeezed her shoulder, his face looking warm, his soulful, half-baked eyes trying to look deeply into hers, though it was hard to take someone seriously when they were dressed like a grungy teenager and smelled just a little on the far side of ripe.
“You’re going to play tonight?” She ran a hand over his chest, leaving it there as he tried to breathe normally.
“Yeah. We’re starting in just a few.”
“I just love watching you play.” And that’s when I saw the sneaky side look she gave. If I’d blinked, I would have missed it. She was that quick and seamless, but I turned my head to follow her gaze and saw that Adonis had somehow made his way to a bar stool just a short distance away and was gritting his teeth, watching the scene play out between Shep and Cyn. He did not like what he was seeing, if the muscle ticking in his cheek was anything to go by.
“Can I buy you a drink before I go on?” Shep asked.
“Sure. I’d love one.” She turned to me, and I’m sure my mouth was hanging open at this point. “I’d like a Corona, Tay.”
I recovered myself enough to utter, “Really? I thought you were allergic or something.”
“Not that allergic.” She smiled.
“Well, if you’re sure.” I frowned and grabbed a cold one from the fridge behind me, but as I put it on the bar with a cocktail napkin, a large male hand took the bottle from me.
“She doesn’t drink,” Adonis stated, sort of in a Terminator voice.
“Back off,” Cynthia snarled at him.
“What’s going on, Cyn?” Shep frowned, having to look up a few inches to see Adonis clearly. “You know this guy?”
“No, I don’t,” Cynthia growled, and I have to say, I was absolutely speechless. I’d never seen Cynthia break a sweat on a hot day, much less get downright angry. She was always the blonde who was cool and in control no matter what crisis happened to be playing out.
“Leave her alone.” Shep, poor guy, did his best to stand up for Cynthia, though it was clear he was nervous and scared to be facing a guy who looked like a powerhouse. I appreciated that Adonis seemed to be a blond version of Ryder, all big and hulking.
There seemed to be a sudden surplus of big and hulking...
“Make him go away, Cyn,” Adonis said in a quiet voice. He displayed an absolute lack of concern for what Shep thought he could do in a fight. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”
Cynthia glared up at the man’s face as seconds ticked by, and I could almost hear Shep gulp. Then she plastered a smile on her face and turned to Shep. “No worries.” She leaned over and kissed Shep’s cheek. “He’s an old friend. I think your band is ready to start.”
“Are you sure? ’Cuz if you need me to, I’ll kick this guy’s ass.”
“No, really,” Cynthia insisted. “It’s cool.”
I almost laughed seeing the look of relief that crossed Shep’s face. “Okay, then. If you’re sure.” But he couldn’t get away quickly enough. He moved toward the stage at a fast pace and didn’t look back.
Adonis tossed bills my way for the beer he was leaving behind. “Let’s go.”
“No,” Cynthia snapped, getting comfortable on one of the bar stools. “I’m here for a good time.”
“You want to do this here?”
“I want you to leave me alone. We have nothing to talk about.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Cynthia, do you need help?” I lowered my voice. “Charlie and Bill can handle this for you.”
“I’m fine.” This was a Cynthia I didn’t know. Her face was composed in unusually hard lines, and though she was definitely angry, I thought there was a hurt look to her eyes. Had this guy hurt her in the past? Was he the lying, cheating bastard from long ago?
“Let me know if that changes.”
“I will. I’m just going to sit here and listen to the band.” She turned to Adonis. “You want to talk, do it here. I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“We’ll see about that,” he muttered.
“Tay, I need help.” Sally, one of the servers, was grabbing up a dozen beers from the fridge and trying to grab as many frosted mugs from the freezer. “Got a large party crammed around three of the tables, watching the screen over there. Can you grab that tray?”
“Sure.” I turned to Cynthia. “Be right back.”
“No worries. I’m not going anywhere.”
An old pro at this, I hefted a tray carefully and made my way across the room, expertly anticipating and sidestepping customers who suddenly stepped in my way because they were a little toasted and not paying attention.
But here’s what really sucks about being a server, and why I was so determined to get behind the bar and off the floor:
When your arms are loaded and you can’t protect yourself, drunken guys try to get away with shit. I was able to ignore the carefree pat on my ass as I followed Sally around the large group of men seated and standing at the tall, round bar tables and stools that Johnny had scattered around the outskirts of the dance floor, but then I felt a hand on the bare skin of my thigh, and it was moving up.
“Hey! Cut it out!” I scowled, trying to dislodge the guy’s hand with an elbow to his chest. It was the best I could do while carrying this stupid tray. Didn’t work. He’d had a few too many to be thinking clearly. His eyes looked bleary and empty, and a goofy grin was spreading across his fleshy cheeks.
“You sure are pretty,” he mumbled. His hand started climbing toward my ass cheek!
I set the tray down, but it turned out I didn’t have to. One second the guy was in his chair, and the next he was kneeling and crying out, holding his fingers. It was a blur, some simple maneuver involving twisting the fingers of his offending hand, which totally incapacitated him.
And who was towering over him at approximately six feet two inches with muscles bulging, ready for action, murder in his eyes? Who was my dark knight to the rescue? Ryder. My heart quivered. I was breathless. I couldn’t seem to stop staring at his face. It was so beautifully masculine; his scruffy square jaw was clenched, a sneer curling his top lip, his eyes looking stone cold at the guy on the floor.
He raised them to meet mine, and they narrowed and heated as they did a body scan. They sent a shiver through me before he looked back down at the guy on the floor nursing his fingers.
“Leave her the fuck alone.” His voice came out all low and deadly sounding. Tingles went up my spine.
“Ryder,” I whispered, forgetting where I was for just a fraction of a second.
But the rest of the world wouldn’t let me forget. Some of the guy’s buddies stood up, looking like they wanted a piece of whatever was going on, and I knew what that could mean. I wanted to get ahead of it.
“You all want to get tossed?” I used my meanest, loudest voice. “Tell your friend here to keep his hands to himself, or next time he’s getting booted!” Understanding the situation now, they all sat down and turned their attention back to what they’d been doing with mumbled comments about their friend like “What an ass” and “Why did you bring him?”
When I looked back to thank Ryder for helping me, he was gone. Disappointment sat heavily on my shoulder. After quickly emptying my tray and tossing it back behind the bar, I got back to my station, but Cynthia was gone and a quick note on a napkin told me she was going home. At that point, my curiosity got the better of me, and I took a fifteen-minute break, hoping to spot Ryder. No luck.
The rest of the night progressed uneventfully, but with closing and cleanup, I wasn’t able to get home until close to three-thirty in the morning. As always, I jumped in the shower for a quick rinse, wanting to get the smell of the club off me. Then I could climb into my nice, sweet-smelling bed with a heartfelt groan for my sore feet, though I still couldn’t fall asleep right away.
My bill-paying ability was weighing on me. My early attempts to soothe myself had been a temporary panacea, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Reggie was going to can my ass. I wondered if Johnny had any extra hours to tide me over between jobs if it came to that, and I pondered buying another industry magazine from the newsstand to see if there were any other positions available. Then I figured I was jumping the gun and needed to calm myself, because really, I’m the best damn assistant Reggie was ever going to have who would actually put up with his mania.
With that final thought in place, I turned out the light and drifted off and back into my erotic dream...
I felt the soft binding on my wrists and ankles, and the large, rough hand was already caressing my rib cage. I couldn’t help a tremulous sigh as butterfly wings carried heat to my thighs.
Is this another dream? I questioned faintly, wanting it to go on and on. It was just like last night—the clarity, the structure, the detail—but was even more amplified. I could feel the weight shift on the mattress between my legs and the same spicy soap reach my nose.
Rough-textured whiskers scraped my breast, and I gasped, arching my back, silently begging for more. Heat sizzled through my body, and I couldn’t get enough. The whiskers rubbed back and forth before firm lips caught my nipple and strong teeth took nibbling bites.
Oh, my God. I can’t... I want to touch you... I moaned.
The torture went on. Heat spiraled out of control, so I was whimpering and straining against the bindings. I wanted to touch this male body that was in my dream with me, but I was frustrated and helpless, which only served to get me hotter, because my will was being controlled by another force. I was helpless against whatever my phantom lover wanted to do to me, and it was getting me completely, desperately aroused. It was all out of my control. There was nothing I could do but feel the pleasure rippling through my body, losing all my inhibitions for my faceless lover.
Chapter Three
It was noon by the time I woke up, and while it took a few minutes to fully appreciate my conscious state, it didn’t take me long to remember that I’d had another...what would I call that...a waking dream? Sleepwalking? But no...I hadn’t actually gone anywhere during the dream.
Whatever it had been, it was leaving me feeling relaxed, if nothing else. I was feeling so good, I decided to head over to the gym, but first I wanted to find Cynthia. There was some girl talk that needed to happen, specifically about the blond Adonis she’d been talking to at the club last night.
After throwing on a pair of short spandex shorts and a sports-bra shirt, I brushed my hair into a ponytail. Spying the can in the door of the refrigerator, I went for the energy drink that could give me wings, wanting the caffeine hit before my workout. Taking a healthy swig, I knocked on Cynthia’s door, ready for an earful on the titillating subject of what the hell happened last night. At the muffled “Come in,” I entered into the most bizarre of situations: Cynthia, in a flustered state of indecision, and her bedroom, in a whirlwind of clothes and chaos.
Whoa, Nelly.
She was attempting to pack a large suitcase, and there was evidence of crying all over her face. I’d only seen her cry, sort of, once. Ever. Her eyes looked puffy and her cheeks were pale despite the heat of the day.
Absolutely distressing.
This was so far out of character for her, I was speechless for several seconds. I could see she was trying to put on her cool-as-a-cucumber face for me, but I wasn’t buying it. For Cyn to look so upset, someone must have died. A feeling of dread came over me.
“What’s going on?”
“I need to leave. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but don’t worry about rent. I arranged for a money transfer to deposit funds into your account. I hope you don’t mind, but I needed to act on this quickly, so I got the number off your checkbook.”
“Cynthia, it’s all fine, but what happened? Why are you upset? Why do you need to leave?”
“My brother went missing.”
“Missing? What do you mean? Like abduction, or gone walkabout?”
“He’s been studying a section of land out in the desert by Las Vegas and hasn’t reported in for a couple of weeks.”
“Is that what Adonis came to tell you?”
“Adonis?” She gave me a look of confusion and continued moving between her closet and her suitcase, folding items in a somewhat haphazard fashion, which was also strange for her. She was usually totally anal about clothes, more so than I am, and I can be pretty anal.
“The blond guy from last night.”
“Adonis,” she muttered through tight lips. She shook her head, seeming to reject the tag I’d given him. “His name’s Nick. He found my brother’s campsite still with all his stuff there, but no trace of him. I told him my brother would probably turn up soon. He’s gone off on his own before, sometimes for longer than two weeks, without telling anyone.”
I relaxed a bit. “Then what else is going on? You look wrecked.”
“Thanks a lot.” She scowled at me and continued packing. “I’m fine. Nothing’s going on. Just tired.” Total blow-off response. I gave a mental eye roll.
“Okay. So what do you plan to do?”
“I don’t know, but I’m meeting the rest of my family in Vegas. We’ll figure it out then.”
“Is there anything I can do? Do you need me to call work, help you pack, or anything?”
“Not right now,” came her sharp reply, “but I’ll let you know if something comes up.”
Figuring I knew what was really pushing her buttons and because I was totally worried about her emotional health and not at all nosy, I asked, “Hey, is there something going on with you and Nick? You guys seemed pretty intense yesterday at the club. Almost like you were fighting?”
“Me and Nick?” There was a look of alarm on her face (bingo!) that she quickly wiped into an innocently neutral don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about look. Damn. “Not at all. He’s just been a friend of my brother’s since they were kids. That’s a funny question to ask me.” Though she wasn’t smiling when she said it, and again, she swept by me without making eye contact. Like I was some kind of annoyance!
Okay, then. There was more going on here than she was telling me, and I had to admit, that kinda hurt. It was like she didn’t trust me with her secrets, when the good lord knew she’d heard all, and I mean all, of mine. And it wasn’t like she had to tell me anything at all. If she didn’t feel like talking, then she could say that. I mean really. I come in here, she’s frantically packing, she’s obviously been crying, her brother’s missing and I saw her arguing in a seemingly intimate tone with the blond guy last night. Don’t tell me everything’s fine.
There was a knock on the door.
“That should be Nick,” Cynthia muttered. “He’s driving us there.”
“Do you want me to get that?”
“Yeah. Tell him I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
I tried to ignore the feeling that I was getting shut out by the very best friend I’ve ever had, my first real friend, and did my best to focus on the seriousness of the situation. I took another swig of the energy drink and reminded myself not to pout as I opened the front door.
“You must be Nick.” I forced a smile and even used my friendly voice. “My name’s Taylor.”
“Hi. Nice to meet you.” His lips curled briefly, but his gray eyes remained somber, his body language impatient. It seemed we were all putting on faces this morning.
“Come on in. Cynthia said she’ll be ready in just a few minutes. Can I get you some coffee? Water? Red Bull?” I flashed my can commercial style.
“I’m fine, thanks. I’ll just see if I can get her to hurry.” Without pausing, he headed accurately down the short hall that led to her bedroom. All I could do was stare after him, wondering if there was something wrong wi
th letting him just walk through the apartment like he owned the place. Then I gave an actual shrug. She knows him better than she knows me anyway, sulked my uncharitable thoughts.
Hearing my whiny inner voice was making me cringe (I’m not a morning person on a normal day), and I knew I needed to get out of there. I could feel my insecurities coming to the surface, and they’re not pretty.
“I’m taking off, Cyn,” I called down the hall. “Call me when you can.” I grabbed my keys and gym bag and was already heading down to the courtyard when she came jogging out.
“Tay! Wait!” She looked distressed as she caught up with me. “You weren’t going to say bye?”
“You seemed busy,” I muttered, barely meeting her gaze because I knew I was being stupid but couldn’t seem to stop myself. “I don’t like to get in the way of family.”
She stared into my eyes searchingly for several seconds (really weird) before looking down at the ground with a sigh. “Okay. There’s more going on with Nick than I was letting on, but the truth is, I just can’t think about it right now. I’m not trying to shut you out. I wasn’t expecting to see him yesterday, and now my brother could be missing. My feelings are all over the map, and I don’t have the luxury of time to sort through them, much less share them. Please tell me you understand.”
Her golden eyes were sincere. There was even a shimmer of tears. Without even thinking, I gave her a warm hug. “Of course I understand.”
“You mean a lot to me, Tay, and I don’t ever want you to think otherwise.”
“I’m just a big baby.” I shook my head. Here I was throwing a tantrum, when Cynthia faced possibly losing a brother. “Do what you need to do, and call me when you can.”
“You’re the very best friend I’ve ever had too. There’s never been anyone else I could trust the way I’ve trusted you. Really.”
Quicksilver Dreams (Dreamwalkers) Page 4