by Tara Leigh
“Just girls that follow the band.”
“Groupies.” Her disdain swirled in the ammonia-scented interior of the rented car, the toxic combination thick enough to choke on.
Much sooner than I expected, the car rolled to a stop across the street from a midsized apartment complex. Realizing my time was up, I reached for Piper, sweeping my thumb beneath her chin. “Look at me.”
She resisted. “I think I’ve seen more than enough.”
I played my last card. “Half an hour ago, you didn’t seem to think so.”
Clearly a bad one.
Knocking my arm away, Piper shoved at the door before the driver could open it. “Go fuck yourself, Landon.”
I should have stayed inside the car’s low-class interior. I should have let Piper be the one to walk away from me this time. A small part of me knew I owed her that.
But everything about Piper, even her anger—maybe, especially her anger—was drawing me in, an invisible cord pulling tight.
I got out of the car, following her along the sidewalk until she stopped at a door. Before her key was in the lock, I grabbed Piper’s wrist, spinning her around and pulling her graceful body against me. She gasped, her cheeks pink beneath the murky outdoor lights. “And why should I do that?” I whispered, my fingers gently tracing her delicate jawline. “Not when you so clearly want to do the honor.”
Thick lashes flared upward, nearly reaching the arch of Piper’s brow. “You, you—”
I leaned down, swallowing her outrage with a kiss, knowing it was a desperate measure. We had unfinished business.
Maybe what I needed wasn’t another chance. Maybe what I needed—what we both needed—was some goddamn closure. One night.
Because there was no way Piper could feel, no way she could fuck, as well as I remembered.
Memories of us had pushed me into bed more times, and with more women, than I could count. But no matter how many times I tried, no one had ever succeeded in erasing the memory of Piper Hastings.
Which was why my memories had to be wrong. Too good to be true.
Piper sighed into my mouth, the key in her hand falling to the ground as she wrapped her arms around my neck and slanted her face to give me more access. Access I took eagerly, pushing my fingers through a curtain of blonde silk to cradle her skull.
Her energy shuddered through me, flipping a switch I hadn’t realized had been locked in the off position until now. Until seeing Piper. Touching Piper. Kissing Piper. Again.
And damn, it was every bit as good as I remembered. Better, even.
Fuck.
I wanted to taste and lick every inch of her. Hell, I wanted to devour this girl whole.
Piper’s nails dug into the skin of my neck as she hiked up onto her toes to get closer to me, her breasts pushing against my chest. I grinned against her mouth. My kitten was coming out to play. Our tongues tangled, fighting for power. She tasted so damn good. Slipping a leg between her thighs, I loosened my hold to slide my fingers down the curve of her spine as she ground against me.
“Pippa.” This time she didn’t object to the nickname I groaned against her lips.
It was a plea.
For this girl, only for this girl, I would beg. After what I’d done, the way I left, she deserved it.
As long as she let me have this one night. One night so I could get her out of my system and we could both move on with our lives. Not that I knew anything about her life. Maybe she’d already moved on. But from the way she was responding to me, the heat of her skin, the neediness of her kiss, I didn’t think so.
“You gonna let me in?” My voice was like old gravel, gritty, with all the sharp edges worn away. I backed up just enough to grab the key that had fallen at our feet, dangling it in front of Piper’s dazed eyes. Her lips were full and swollen from our kiss, and she pressed them together as she glanced at the glinting metal before looking back up at me. “Yes.”
Yes. How could one word, one syllable, have the power to do me in?
Wrapping one arm around the curve of Piper’s waist, I pulled her against my side and jabbed the key into the lock. The door gave easily, opening with barely a push. I picked her up and swung her over the threshold, pressing her against the nearest wall. Grabbing the backs of her knees, I hooked them over my hips. “Knew the second I laid eyes on you tonight, I had to taste you. Just didn’t think you’d taste as good as I remembered.”
Piper made a sound low in her throat, like an audible smile, and clung tighter, kissing deeper. I shouldn’t want her this bad. This was supposed to be a way to rid me of my craving, not make it stronger.
Suddenly the lights blazed on, and we pulled apart, blinking at each other in confusion. Figuring she must have accidentally flipped a switch, I grinned at her swollen lips, pink-tipped nose, the mess I’d made of her hair. Piper was always elegantly put together, not a hair out of place. But when she let me muss her up a little—she was fucking gorgeous.
“What the hell?”
It took me a second to realize the question hadn’t come from the woman in my arms.
Chapter Four
Piper
How was it possible that this day kept getting worse?
Although, since it was after midnight, maybe it couldn’t be considered the same day.
Looking between Landon and Adam, I didn’t have the mental capacity to concern myself with abstract details. My reality was complicated enough.
I straightened, pushing my shoulders back. As if good posture could distract from my swollen lips and lustful, panting breaths.
Posture hadn’t been a priority a moment ago. Encircled within Landon’s arms, my hands riding the swell of his biceps, I’d melted into him, groaning at the pull and flex of the muscles that had held me up, pushed me against the wall. The bulge between his thighs pulsing with a life all its own.
But that temporary lapse in sanity had come to an abrupt end. For me, at least.
Landon had arrogantly dismissed Adam with a glance. Turning his attention back to me, Landon’s jaw was clenched, his gaze still hungry. Like I was a meal to be savored, but ultimately devoured. And he was impatient to get started.
No wonder. Until Adam’s interruption, I’d been about to serve myself on a platter.
Landon could ignore Adam, but I couldn’t. Forty-eight hours ago, I thought I would marry the man. At first he’d been my neighbor, then my friend, and for the past year or so, my boyfriend. We weren’t engaged yet, but he’d been dropping hints. I loved him, and I loved his family. Marriage had seemed like the logical next step.
Until an overheard conversation proved I’d had my head in the clouds.
And now I was standing between the two men I’d once looked at with so much hope, so much possibility. Two men that had betrayed me. Liars, both of them.
After six years, my feelings toward Landon should have cooled. I’d been a college freshman away from home for the first time. A teenager wrapped in a naïve, hormone-fueled bubble. I should have gotten over him ages ago. But I hadn’t.
Meanwhile, the sting of Adam’s betrayal was only days old. I should be devastated by it, by him. But I wasn’t.
If I needed proof that my feelings for Adam were a pale imitation of what I felt for Landon—a sparkler compared to a laser light show—this was it.
A fact that only made me angrier.
Because Landon and I, we had crashed and burned a long time ago.
First things first. I pointed to Adam. “You have no right to be here. Not anymore.” I swung my arm toward the front door. “Get. Out.”
“Piper, we need to talk. Don’t throw away the last year because…” He glanced self-consciously at Landon. “Because of a—a…misunderstanding.”
I didn’t want to have this conversation with Landon standing here. Although, in my heart, I knew it was impossible to throw something away if it had never been there to begin with. “We will, Adam, but not tonight.”
“So, you expect me to leave you here wi
th, with”—he glanced again at Landon before turning back to me—“him?”
“He’s leaving, too.” The words leapt from my mouth, and I knew it was the right choice, even as Landon’s jaw sagged, obviously surprised by tonight’s unexpected twist.
The tiny glimpse of vulnerability had me wanting to kiss him again.
With a resolve that was seconds from crumbling, I backed up a few steps and forced a stern edge to my voice. “I mean it. Both of you—out.”
And then, like a coward, I scurried into my bedroom, locking the door behind me and putting my ear to it. The heavy thud of Landon’s boots was unmistakable, and when I didn’t hear another pair, I wondered if his had covered the sound of Adam’s footsteps.
A piercing whistle said differently. “Dude, I’m not leaving you in here.”
I tried to imagine Adam’s face. He probably would have left on his own, but just didn’t want to walk out with Landon. I guess I couldn’t blame him. The intimidation factor was pretty high when you’re staring at a man whose ripped muscles are covered in ink and insolence.
Landon Cox had been so different from the boys I’d known back in Bronxville, and the not-quite-men I’d met at UCLA. From the second I laid eyes on him, I’d been lit by an unexpected urgency, a need to claim Landon as my own. Looking back, I should have known it was ridiculous. Like trying to pet a rattlesnake.
Landon was dangerous, carrying a lethal poison inside him even when he was hiding his tail, sheathing his fangs. The only surprise was that there had been no attack. No ruthless, lunging bite.
He’d simply slithered away.
Killing a part of my soul anyway, no venom required.
I ran a tentative tongue over my lips. They ached from the press of Landon’s mouth, and stung from his absence.
Our kiss hadn’t been nearly satisfying enough after all this time. Not nearly long or soft or hard enough to make up for the past six years without. Not nearly enough.
That made sense, I guess. Because, six years ago, I hadn’t been enough for Landon.
Tonight, there had been intention in his kiss. And the power to make me forget the past, forgive him…everything. But to what end? Did I deserve nothing more than the scraps Landon was willing to toss my way?
There had been lust, too. Between the two of us, so much lust we could have powered the city.
Or burned it down.
Landon
“That yours?” The asshole who’d just interrupted what would have been, without a doubt, a fucking incredible night, sneered at the silver embarrassment that couldn’t manage the turn into Piper’s apartment complex.
I glared at him. “Why? You want a ride?”
“Don’t need one.” The smile he gave made me want to slap it off his face, but I only watched as he walked away, stopping in front of an apartment two doors down and taking hold of the knob. “Piper and I are neighbors.”
Neighbors. Before I could lunge for his throat, Piper’s neighbor slipped inside his apartment and shut the door. Which meant he could go back to her place the second I left.
How fucking convenient.
Was he Piper’s fuck-buddy? Her boyfriend?
I had no idea, but either label had my blood pressure skyrocketing.
I stomped across the street and threw myself into the back of the limo. “Where to?” came the voice squeaking through a small crack in the privacy partition.
“You in any rush?” I grabbed a glass from the door panel and sloshed a mix of liquors into it, needing to feel an ache in my gut that didn’t come from animosity.
Or jealousy.
Jesus.
Maybe I’d left my balls in Piper’s apartment, too.
And it didn’t look like I was getting them back tonight.
“Actually, I was—”
“Just sit tight for a bit, yeah. I’ll tell you when you can drive me back to my hotel.”
I was tempted to have him take me back to my house. The few things I’d left in my hotel room could be packed up by Lynne or one of her lackeys.
I lived less than an hour away, deep in the Hollywood Hills. I bought the place a few years ago, well after Shane, Jett, and Dax had homes of their own. Before that, I’d been content to rent a small house not far from our favorite recording studio. I didn’t need much, and it was more satisfying to bank the cash I was earning, watching zero after zero added to the trust fund I’d set up.
But then some fan had discovered where I lived and was waiting for me, naked in my bed, when I stumbled home one night. She was hot, or at least she’d looked good in the dark, so I stripped down myself.
Who fucks a stalker after they break into his house? Me.
Almost.
I would have, except that when I put the condom on, my fucking dick poked out of the tip. Not exactly sober, I figured it was a fluke.
Until the second one split apart as I pulled it on.
Turned out the crazy chick had used a pair of scissors to poke holes in the condoms in my nightstand drawer. The entire fucking box. If she’d been smart enough to use a needle, I probably wouldn’t have realized it until the problem had a goddamn birth certificate with my name on it.
I bought a house of my own the next week. Surrounded by a high fence and monitored by a security system. The only people that had ever been inside were Travis, the guys, and the couple that lived in my guesthouse and took care of the main house and grounds.
To my surprise, I loved being a homeowner. It became the oasis I never knew I needed. A place I could let my guard down. The only place, actually.
Besides my housekeeper, no chick had ever crossed the threshold, although I might make an exception for Shane’s girl, Delaney, who had grown on me a little bit. I hadn’t been a fan of her at first, figured she was just another fame-chasing tart, like Shane’s previous “girlfriends.” The same kind that chased all of us.
But Delaney had surprised me; she wasn’t interested in fame. Wasn’t interested in much besides Shane, actually. Except for going back to school, which she was doing clear across the country.
The guys used to come over occasionally, but now that Shane was spending most of his time in New York, it seemed strange to invite just Dax and Jett to swing by. What would we do—work on our tans by the pool? Geek out playing videogames?
Until this moment, I’d never actually realized how solitary my life had become. I was a part of one of the most famous bands in the word, surrounded my fans and staff and groupies twenty-four-fucking-seven. But here, my frustration fogging up the glass of this four-wheeled embarrassment, staring out at the wall Piper was hiding behind—I felt truly alone.
Lonely.
If Piper didn’t want to see me, why had she come to the show tonight? And how had she gotten that all-access pass hanging from her neck? A pass that still shouldn’t have gotten her into my dressing room.
Kicking my feet out across from me, I sipped slowly from my glass. There was a light bluish glow coming from the window of the apartment two doors down from Piper’s, the TV probably. Piper’s windows were dark, and I could picture her undressing in her bedroom, slipping between cool sheets that would have already been a messy tangle if I was inside.
But I wasn’t.
Piper had kicked me out. Told me to leave.
With a muttered curse, I tipped the last of the liquor into my mouth and bit out the name of the hotel I was staying in, cradling the empty glass in my hand. My stomach was still churning as we arrived at the entrance, and I pulled a couple of Benjamins from my back pocket and pressed them into the driver’s palm with a half-assed smile. The guy looked at the bills in his hand, his face lighting up. He was still thanking me when the automatic doors swooshed closed behind me.
At least I made someone’s night.
I jabbed at the elevator call button with a knuckle, my hands curled into fists.
Was Piper still alone? Or had that fucker been biding his time, knocking on her door the second I pulled away?
No w
ay I’d get any sleep tonight. Not when my mind was still in Piper’s apartment, in her bedroom, my veins thrumming with the need touch her, taste her.
Fuck her senseless.
I’d been the only one of the four of us to stay in the hotel last night, but everyone was crashing here tonight after the show rather than driving back to L.A. Between the high of performing and the after-parties, it was always easier to crash at a hotel even when we were playing in our hometown.
I wasn’t in the mood to party, but I didn’t want to be alone. And I didn’t feel like hanging with the roadies and groupies that were undoubtedly jammed in the bar, either.
Shane was locked up with Delaney, and Jett was probably in the middle of a baker’s dozen of chicks that would be content with any scrap he tossed their way. Dax though, he was the loner of our insular fucked-up family. The one who always listened more than he talked. He got his share of action, but only when he wanted it, which was rare. And never with the girls who followed the band.
I rapped on the door across from mine, the faint strains of a guitar riff coming from behind it abruptly stopping. “Busy. Go away.”
I snorted. “Yeah? You fuckin’ your guitar these days?”
A minute later the door was yanked open, just enough for Dax to shove his head through it. His eyes widened when he saw I was alone, and he opened it the rest of the way, stepping aside for me to pass through. “Your dick finally quit on you, huh?”
I made a show of adjusting my junk. “You intimidated by the competition?”
“Yeah,” Dax joked, slumping in a chair and dragging his guitar against his bare chest like a lover, idly strumming a chord.
“Seriously, man,” I asked, falling back into the sofa and kicking my legs onto the arm, “I need to know. Why don’t you dick around as much as the rest us?”
Dax’s thick black brows waggled over a soulful brown gaze that could have gotten him as much pussy as he could eat, even without the guitar. “Doesn’t look like you’re doing much with your dick right now, either.”
I snorted. “Exactly. And it doesn’t feel right—like I’m disappointing half the population.”