Lowdown and Lush

by Selena Laurence

  I come back to his room after signing some papers and find Joss lounging around in an armchair. My dad is laughing so hard that I’m afraid he’s going to disconnect something.

  “What the hell’s so funny?” I ask, feeling a little irritated that the two of them are being so cavalier about what’s been a pretty crappy day.

  My dad wipes his eyes. “Joss is telling me some of the stories from you boys being on the road.”

  “The time you and Colin got on the wrong bus after the Mile High Music Fest,” Joss adds.

  “Shit.” I roll my eyes. “Don’t listen to him, Dad. He and Walsh have no idea what really happened. They were too busy hitting on the girls from the festival’s marketing department. Well, Joss was hitting on them, anyway. Walsh was wingman.”

  “And how’d you do, Joss?” my dad asks, shocking the shit out me.

  Joss chuckles. “I did okay that time, Mr. Owens, but I struck out the next night when Mike brought home half the Dallas Cowboys cheerleading squad to the bus for an after-party.”

  “Dude,” I say, getting into the whole thing now. “You said the Cowboys sucked. You couldn’t seriously expect those girls to be friendly after that. I mean, that rant you went on about ‘America’s Team’? You had no game that night, rock star.”

  My dad busts up again, and Joss gives me a big grin, making my chest loosen just a touch. Then I see his eyes move to the doorway behind me and his expression sobers.

  I turn and there she is. Jenny. I swallow, looking between her and Joss. Fuck, he told her.

  He must be able to read my mind because Joss stands and leans into me. “I called her and said your dad was back in. I think you have some shit to sort. Please tell her, Mike. She deserves to know and you deserve to have the chance with her.”

  I nod as Joss says his goodbyes to my dad. He gives Jenny a quick hug on his way out.

  “So, Dad. I’m going to go grab a cup of coffee. You just rest up. We’ll have you out of here in a few hours, so enjoy the nurses while you can.”

  He chuckles as I make my way to the door, where my Sunshine stands, radiant, waiting for me.

  “Come on,” I tell her. “Let’s go downstairs.

  Cups of coffee in hand, Jenny and I find a quiet bench in an outdoor courtyard near the hospital cafeteria. The air is moist, but there’s no rain yet and the temperature is close to perfect.

  “Thanks for coming by,” I say, not sure what I’m supposed to be doing at this point.

  “I’m so glad to hear he’s okay. Joss said it was pretty scary for a little while there.”

  “Yeah? What else did Joss say?” I take a sip of the bitter, black crap they’re passing off as coffee to all the poor, beleaguered hospital staff.

  “That he thought you could use a friend. I told him I wasn’t sure that I qualified, but he’s pretty determined when he wants to be, so here I am.”

  I watch her face, her sad eyes, and her soft lips. My heart is beating out of my fucking chest and I think I might be shaking too. Maybe it’s a panic attack. At least I’m already in a hospital.

  “You’re my best friend, Jenny. You have been since the day I met you. You’re my only friend sometimes, I’m afraid. No one else will put up with my nasty disposition the way you will.”

  She huffs out a little laugh. “You can be a handful at times.”

  “Yeah, I know.” I hang my head and run a hand across my coarse hair, thinking how much smoother and silkier hers is.

  “But underneath all of that, I still believe there’s a beautiful guy struggling to get out. I just don’t know how to reach him, Michael. Once upon a time, I thought I was the one who could fix you, but I’m not, am I?”

  “Oh, Jenny,” I rasp out, taking her delicate little hand in mine. “You’re the only one who could possibly fix me. You don’t know what you’ve done for me these last few months. It’s like you’re this bright light that shines in all the dark corners inside me. I’m a better person when I’m with you.”

  Her eyes well up and I ache. Everywhere.

  “Then what’s stopping us, Michael? I don’t understand. Am I just not sexy enough?”

  I can’t help but laugh. I know it’s the wrong reaction, but it bursts out of me like gunfire. She starts to pull away and I clutch her hand harder, yanking her into me. Her eyes flash with fury.

  “Sunshine, stop. Please. I’m sorry. It’s just… God, do you know how gorgeous you are? Sometimes I can’t even remember my own name when you’re near. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman and a whole bunch of stuff I never even knew I needed.”

  “Then what is it? I can’t stand this anymore. I feel like I’m in a dark room fighting something I can’t see. You’re killing me with this, Michael.”

  I’ve been so caught up in my own pain for all of these months, so hell-bent on making sure that Jenny had the perfect life—my idea of the perfect life—that I never gave half as much thought to her feelings as I should have. This has been hell for her, and I’ve been too selfish to admit that.

  “You’re right, Sunshine, and I’m so sorry. I’ve been such a blind ass. I kept thinking I was doing the best thing for you. Now, I’m not so sure. Joss seems to think I need to come clean…”

  “You can tell me anything, Michael. We’ll deal with it together. Please…” She gazes up at me with those baby blues, and I can feel the thump of my heart as it bangs against my ribcage, the thrum of my blood as it pumps through my veins. I can smell the lavender from her soft hair and feel the heat of her breath as it skates across my skin. “Please let me in,” she whispers.

  “What about JR?” I ask, watching her.

  She sighs and bites her bottom lip for a moment. “I broke it off with him—the night of Walsh and Tammy’s dinner party. I knew it wasn’t fair to keep seeing him when I have these feelings for you.”

  I nod, something inside my chest taking flight. It’s time. I have to do this, and I have to believe that she’ll still be here when I’m done.

  “My mother…” I have to clear my throat before I can form the words. “My mother was mentally ill. She was bipolar, and it wasn’t pretty.”

  “Oh, Michael,” she says sadly as she touches my face. “Why would you think that could ever influence how I feel about you?”

  “I, um… I’m afraid I’ll be like her. That I’ll get it too, you know? I would never subject someone to that. Especially not someone I—” I stop, looking into her eyes.

  Can I do it? Can I go all the way? Hand her my entire being on a silver platter for her to do with as she pleases? Can I trust her with all of me?

  “Especially not someone I love.”

  She stares at me, her expression disbelieving. I start to sweat, my pulse racing and my stomach lurching.

  “Jenny?” I whisper. “Say something. Please.”

  She puts her hand over her mouth and just nods her head over and over, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

  “What? What is it? Do you want me to go away? I get it if you do. I mean, you didn’t sign up for this and I’m not the kind of guy who—”

  “Shut up, you big idiot,” she gasps out before she lifts up on one knee and crashes her lips into mine.

  She is everything sweet and fresh, soft and real. Her lips are warm and seeking against mine, and I’m surprised that, after everything I’ve been through today, my dick springs to life the moment her heat presses against me. It’s a testament to the power of Sunshine.

  She’s on her knees, above me, kissing me like she needs me to stay alive, and I realize that I, in fact, do need her to live. I have for months—I was just too stubborn to admit it. A life without Jenny is a life devoid of light, and I refuse to go back to the dark.

  I pull her onto my lap so she’s straddling me and wrap a hand around that incredible ass. She grinds down against me and I nearly come undone. I bring my other hand up and spear it through her silky locks, humming into her mouth as I take control of the kiss. I nip and lick at her lips until no mo
re sweet berry lip gloss is left on them. Her hands press against my chest and I can feel them clench and unclench involuntarily as she moves against me, breathing hard.

  “Jenny,” I say in a rough voice as I take another nip at her glorious, puffy bottom lip. “Is this it? Do you understand what you’re getting into here? I’m a mess. A fucking fucked-up mess. I could go nuts at any point. I could end up like her—my mother. And even if I don’t, I’m mean and I swear all the time. I don’t go to church and I never will. Your parents hate me—hell, they disowned you because of me. I’m selfish and I’m kinky as shit in bed, baby. You have to know that—”

  She pulls back from me and puts her hand on my cheek. She must have the most fuckable mouth of any woman I’ve ever seen. I give myself a little mental shake to dispel thoughts like that one.

  “Michael?” she asks.

  “Yeah?”

  “Why are you trying to talk me out of you?”

  “You could do so much better.”

  “I guess I’m an underachiever then, because I want you. I want you swearing and skipping church. My parents would have disowned me eventually no matter what, and you’re never selfish with me. I don’t know if I like all the same kinky stuff, but if you’ll be patient and teach me, I’m willing to try—”

  Those are the last words Jenny Turner says for quite a while. When I finally realize that our spot in the courtyard is visible on three sides for about six stories of the hospital, I refrain from fucking her right there. However, I vow that, once my dad gets back home and settled in, I’ll be paying a visit to the guest wing of Tammy and Walsh’s house.

  Jenny

  MICHAEL HASN’T let go of me once in the last five hours. Either he’s holding my hand, has an arm slung around my shoulders, or is touching other things that are less fit for mixed company. His dad hasn’t said a word, but the man is sporting the biggest grin I’ve see outside of the hyenas at the zoo, so I guess he approves.

  Now, I’m sitting here in their living room, wondering if Michael is going to move that hand farther up my thigh and force me to chop it off—his hand, not my thigh.

  “Michael?” I grit out, trying to be as quiet as possible.

  “Yeah, baby,” he whispers as he kisses me on the lips a couple of times.

  “I think you need to watch that hand. It’s roaming a little far north with your dad right here.”

  I watch as he tries to control the look of glee on his face. “Okay, Sunshine. Whatever you say,” he tells me, kissing me again. God, his lips feel good on mine.

  But his hand doesn’t move. I sigh and paste on a smile for Mr. Owens. He’s telling me about the time teenage Michael and Walsh got a little tipsy and tried to mow the lawn at two a.m. Apparently, when Mr. Owens found them, he decided to keep them from chopping off a body part, so he told them they couldn’t wake the neighbors and gave them the old push mower.

  “Those boys were out there pushing that antique mower around the yard for three hours before they sobered up and quit. My yard was a mess though. Luckily, that old mower cut so high there was plenty of grass left for Mike to take the real mower to it the next day. Isn’t that right, son?”

  Michael shakes his head. “Yeah. Dad made me cut the whole lawn again—with a hangover—and then he had me out there with fingernail scissors, trimming the edges.”

  I can’t help but laugh at the image of this much younger, more innocent Michael.

  “I thought it might make you think twice before you tried to use motorized equipment when drinking again.”

  “Well, did it?” I ask, watching the smiles between Michael and his dad.

  “Yeah,” Michael says. “It did. I realized that anything—cars, boats, lawnmowers, chainsaws…” Mr. Owens laughs loudly. “All that stuff shouldn’t be fucked with when you’re drunk. And I’ve stuck to it. Never mowed a lawn wasted again.”

  We all laugh and then Mr. Owens sobers a bit. “It’s getting late, Michael. I’ve had a long day and I bet your young lady here is ready to get home.” He looks at me. “Thank you for coming to see Michael at the hospital, Jenny. It meant a lot to me.”

  His eyes tell me everything his words can’t right now. He loves his son and he wants him to be happy. I want that too. I smile at him and reach across the coffee table to squeeze his hand.

  “I was happy to, Mr. Owens, and I’d love to come see you again soon. Maybe I can make you up a good dinner. I know Michael has you on a strict diet, but I bet I can find something that’ll keep him satisfied.” I wink.

  “As long as you’ll call me Richard,” he says, standing. “Michael, I’ll see you in the morning?”

  “Yeah, Dad. Seven a.m. with a cup of decaf.” Michael acts like it irritates him, but I get the feeling he actually loves it.

  “Goodnight then.”

  After Mr. Owens—Richard—leaves, Michael turns to me. “So, Sunshine, you going to let me take you home to Casa Clark?”

  I’m instantly self-conscious and nervous. At twenty-four years old. I ought to be excited about the possibility of sleeping with the man I love, and I am, but I’m also terrified.

  “Um, yeah, I guess,” I answer.

  “Hey.” He puts a finger under my chin and lifts it. “I’d love nothing more than if you’d invite me in once we get there, but whether you do or not is up to you, and what we do once we are inside is totally your call too. I’ll never forgive myself for what happened the last time we were together. I can’t undo it, but I won’t ever push you. I want to do all kinds of fucking amazing things to you, but only when you’re ready.”

  I sigh and melt a little more into his side, where he has me wedged like he’s never going to let go. “You’re being too sweet,” I say.

  He harrumphs. “Don’t say that outside of this house. It’d ruin my reputation.”

  I smile a secret little smile. Big, old, mean Mike Owens isn’t really all that.

  “Come on.” He stands and pulls me up by the hand. “Let’s go grab your car and get you home.”

  AN HOUR later, we enter the back door of Tammy and Walsh’s giant house. It’s already after eleven and I’m sure Tammy and Walsh are upstairs in their room. Tammy’s been so tired lately that they go to bed early. Walsh jokes that he’ll never be able to tour with a band again because the shows start too late for his old man biorhythms.

  “Do I have to whisper and tiptoe, or are you allowed to have male callers?” Michael jokes as we come into the kitchen.

  “Stop it.” I bat at him and reach for the light.

  His hand comes down over mine. “Not so fast, Miss Turner,” he tells me, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips for the most sensual kiss I’ve ever experienced.

  It’s just a brief press of his lips to the inside of my wrist, but I feel it like a shockwave through my entire center. I gasp, wondering how I lived this long without having experienced that sensation. I had no idea my life was so barren before.

  “Come here,” he whispers in the dark and pulls me to him.

  My arms wind around his neck as his mouth comes down on mine. What starts out tender and slow quickly escalates to something needy and lush. His hands are tenderly holding my face, but his lips are plundering, demanding, his tongue laving my mouth like he worships it.

  “God,” he gasps out. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

  “Six months of pent-up frustration, I guess,” I pant.

  “I never thought I’d have this. Never. You bring to my knees, baby.”

  My heart flutters in my chest and all I can do is feel him, his hot, heavy hands roaming my body, his tongue tasting me, my lips, my mouth, my neck. He walks me backward until my legs bump against the kitchen table. Then he puts his hands on my hips and lifts me onto the table. I open my knees and he steps between them. He leans one hand on the table next to my thigh and I feel the other inch under the hem of my T-shirt.

  “Have I told you what gorgeous tits you have?” he whispers into my ear as he sucks on the lobe. />
  I moan softly when his hand palms my breast, and my nipple hardens beneath my bra. Arching into him, I run my hand up his chest, lingering on his firm pectorals before I start to undo the buttons on his short-sleeved button-up.

  “Where you going with that?” he teases.

  “I want it off,” I choke out when he pinches my nipple.

  I can feel him smile beneath my lips. “Whatever you want, baby. Remember you’re the boss.”

  I can’t help but laugh. He may like pretending that I’m in charge, but we both know he’s the master here.

  I get his shirt unbuttoned and slip it off his shoulders. Feeling all that smooth, taut skin under my fingertips, I wonder if those other women realized just how darn lucky they were. He’s like a girl’s fantasy come to life. So big and hard and perfect.

  “So, we doing tit for tat?” he asks. “Or maybe I should say tat for tit.” He chuckles as he pulls my T-shirt off over my head.

  “You’re a pig,” I tell him with a smile.

  “Nah. I’m Mike Owens. And you’re my girl. My beautiful”—he plants a kiss on my neck—“beautiful”—he plants another in my cleavage—“gorgeous”—he pulls my bra strap down and then moves the cup to one side before he kisses my nipple—“woman,” he whispers as he takes it into his mouth.

  My mind goes numb, my body electrified by the feeling of his lips and his tongue on my breast. His hand squeezes and massages as he licks me and suckles, sending shockwaves straight through me. I can’t help but moan and press my bottom into the tabletop I’m sitting on. His other hand grasps my thigh and then his thumb moves to press against me in that one special spot. Even though it’s through my jeans, I feel it like a hundred fires have lit me up.

  I clutch at his bare back, digging my nails into his skin and making him growl, “Keep it up, Sunshine. The harder the better.”

  I should be shocked, but it all feels too good to bother. I toss my head and arch my back, pressing my breast against his mouth even deeper. He scrapes his teeth along my nipple, and I cry out, ecstasy racing through me, my hips bucking against his thighs.