by L. B. Dunbar
“Tell me something else about you? Something no one else knows,” I tease. “Something…fun.”
I don’t need her to continue being serious. I want the little things about her. Ice cream. Beverage choice. Favorite color. Anything.
“I don’t like cottage cheese.”
“What the fuck? Who does?”
“They tell me I should eat it for the baby, but I just can’t.” She shivers in disgust, and I like the motion. She’s cute. She’s gorgeous actually, and I notice it all the more as her excitement grows while she tells me all about the life inside her.
+ + +
Ivy and I spend the rest of the day at the beach. When she decides she’s had enough, I help her stand, hitch her blanket over my shoulder, and reach for her hand. She doesn’t take it at first, and it’s awkward for a moment since I don’t pull back. I hold out my palm and wait for hers. I want her to trust me. I want her to take my hand. When she finally does, it feels like a small victory.
We take the elevator up to the penthouse and find Jared and Petty sitting out on the rooftop patio with a rather upset looking Tommy.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he snaps, glaring at me but addressing his niece. She dropped my hand the moment we saw the trio sitting among the patio furniture.
“Have some care, Carrigan,” I bark, drawing out his name to emphasize the word within.
“You mind your own business,” he snips back.
“Excuse me?” Ivy says, her voice sharp as she glares at her uncle. “I think I can take care of myself, and there’s no need to speak to Gage like that.”
“It’s clear you can’t, and I’ll speak to him how I wish.” The comment startles me, and despite how I feel about him or what I need from him, I’m in his face within a heartbeat.
“Fucking take it back, old man.”
“Don’t you old man, me.” He points back and forth between Ivy and me, and I hear her gasp. “Don’t you go there.”
I want to tell him I’ll go wherever I fucking want, but I’m more concerned about his attitude toward Ivy. This is his family. “You can think what you want about me, but don’t disrespect Ivy. She’s done nothing wrong.”
“Have you done something wrong?” Tommy eyes me, implying I’m taking advantage of his niece. Or maybe he’s suggesting I’m wrong to want my deceased best friend’s girl?
“I would never—”
“She doesn’t need another disappointment.” Tommy’s statement is clear. He knows the baby is Cash’s, and he hates him for leaving her.
“Uncle Tommy,” she hisses, hurt vibrating off her.
“I’m sorry, baby girl, but I warned you. This isn’t happening.”
I’m still up in his face, ready to let him know whatever happens will happen, when Ivy speaks up again.
“Nothing happened.” She stops. “Nothing’s happening. You have to have expectations to be disappointed, and I have none.” With that, she spins and stalks back into the penthouse, disappearing down the hall. What does that mean? Does she think I’ll disappoint her?
“Phew.” Petty blows out a breath, and Tommy turns on him.
“Shut up.”
“What?” he whines, all false innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Just stop talking,” Tommy barks again.
“Maybe you should stop talking,” I suggest to Tommy. “But before you do, go apologize to your niece.” His mouth falls open, gob smacked by my demand, but I’m not making a polite suggestion. “I think she’s been through enough, and you’re the last person she needs throwing judgment at her. Care,” I add for emphasis. If looks could kill, he’s stabbed me six ways to Sunday, but I hold my ground. He is going to apologize to her. With a huff, he walks around me but not without knocking into my shoulder first.
As soon as he’s out of sight, I grip my shoulder. “Fuck, that hurt.”
Jared’s eyes are on me. “What’s going on with you two?”
“We were at the beach.”
“Gage?” he warns, knowing me better than anyone except Cash, who I sometimes question didn’t know me at all.
“What? I like her, okay? We were at the beach. No big deal.”
“Is this about a few years ago?” Jared asks.
“What happened a few years ago?” Petty inquires, and I tip back my head, closing my eyes.
“Nothing,” I say at the same time Jared tells Petty my secret. “Gage had a life-altering moment with Ivy.”
“What?” Petty shrieks. “When?”
Some might think all rock stars bang chicks bareback in equipment rooms all the time, and while that might be true of many, it wasn’t true of me. Collision had just gotten our start. A jump up the charts. Though I was inundated with female fans, I’d never done what I’d done with Ivy before. The unknown of who she was. The sense of her being important. The frenzy with which we went from zero to sixty.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, but Jared just can’t keep his mouth shut. “At the Theatre. Kit’s last concert. Ivy and he had an altercation in the hallway, which lead to a tryst in the closet.”
“Oh, is this like Mr. Green with a candlestick in the billiard room?” Petty’s voice rises, falsely throwing it to sound feminine and scandalized.
“No,” I snap.
“I think it was more Mr. Everly with his candlestick in a broom closet,” Jared mocks.
“I hate you guys,” I mutter, not meaning a word of it.
“Well, you’re going to love me later tonight. Three redheads waiting for us. Eight p.m., men. Eight p.m.” Petty stands, proud of setting us up, but I don’t want to go out with a redhead. There’s a certain blonde who’s taking up all my head space. Candlestick included.
10
GAGE
The next day, the guys and I play out my new sound. Jared likes the feel of the song, and Petty goes with the flow.
“It’s different,” Jared admits. “Not screeching rock star but more alternative. I like it.”
The guys suggest a swim after we finish, and I agree, telling them I’ll meet them downstairs. It’s late in the day, and I want to check on Ivy. She naps almost daily. The sun wipes her out, she says, but I know it’s more than that.
As I peek in her room, she looks so peaceful lying on her bed. An angel with her blond hair sprawled around her head on the pillow. She’s on her side, a T-shirt covering her midsection and a sheet over her legs. I’m tempted to crawl in behind her, but instead, I step forward and brush back a lock of her hair.
“Gage,” she murmurs as if she knows I’m there. I stand, looking down, to find her fast asleep.
Is she dreaming of me?
I can’t help but notice how her legs shift under the sheet. I rub a hand down her arm, and she shivers. Her lips mutter my name again, and I smile. Giving in to temptation, I carefully lie down behind her, pressing a kiss to her covered shoulder. Ivy shifts, and her backside wiggles against the front of my shorts. My reaction is immediate although I tell myself to keep it together.
Don’t be a creeper.
“Ivy,” I whisper, softly warning her. She repeats the motion, searching for friction.
Does she know what she’s doing?
I hiss her name again, nuzzling my nose into her warm nape. She arches her back, adding pressure to my growing dick. She moans and nestles against me.
“Gorgeous,” I snap a little louder.
With a sleepy voice, she says, “It’s the pregnancy.” Her legs shift again, and she rubs against me with more intention. My eyes leap to her breasts. I’d noticed each day that her bathing suit hardly contained the swollen globes, skin peeking out each corner of her bikini top, and my mouth waters to take one.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Pregnancy hormones.”
I wait for more, but she doesn’t explain. What isn’t she telling me? Smoothing down her arm, I kiss her shoulder blade. She presses back again.
Is she doing this on purpose?
Interlock
ing our fingers, she squeezes mine tight. I move our collective hands to her belly, covering her bump, and her sheet-covered ass hits me square against my bulging dick. Leaning forward, I nip at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She bows, arching her back, so two fine globes rub against me, undeniably seeking friction.
“Ivy, do you need something?”
Our fingers slip apart, and she doesn’t answer as my hand caresses her belly. I boldly skim higher on her body, following the curve of her stomach, the dip to her waist, and stopping to cup the underside of her breast. It’s full. Plump. Ripe. My palm massages, and I’m greeted with a satisfied purr. Then I reach higher and pinch her nipple covered by her tee.
“So sensitive,” she whimpers, and I repeat the motion, tweaking the tight nub, and like how she curls her back and rubs her fine ass against my straining length. I kiss her neck again. Then the curve of her shoulder. My hand travels down her body, retracing my journey to her belly.
“Let me give you relief, gorgeous.”
My knee slides up between her thighs, and I tug the sheet away from her legs. She parts hers, hooking one leg over mine. I spread my knees, forcing hers to open and feel the cool caress of her ass on my thigh. My eager fingers skim the edge of a thong strap.
“Were you waiting for me? Anticipating this?” My heart jumps in my chest while my dick twitches with the possibility. I don’t want to disappoint her.
She doesn’t answer, and I consider something else—did I interrupt her?
“Were you touching yourself?” My voice catches, my dick weeping with the possibility.
“So horny,” she whispers, pushing her ass against me. Her fingers grip the edge of the mattress, and her chin lowers to her chest. “Touch me,” she pleads, and the whisper of a memory comes back to me.
I want to feel.
My fingers find wet folds, slick and sensitive to the first touch. She flinches, but the groan following tells me this is what she wants. I circle where she needs me most before flicking over the hood of her sex. Her satisfied groan grows as her head dips back. My finger slides her seam once, twice, before slipping inside. I immediately go deep, and another pleasing sound greets me. She presses back, and I push forward, letting her know what she’s done to me.
I’m rock fucking hard.
I add another finger to her depths, slipping in and out and playing her like my favorite guitar. She’s even better than my six-string with the noises and nuances escaping her.
“Make me come,” she begs, a strain to her plea as if I’d stop touching her or want to give up what she’s doing to me. I’m crazy turned on by the idea of getting her off. I add my thumb to the nub, flicking up and back as my fingers delve inward. Within seconds, she folds. Her knees come together, pinning my wrist between her thighs, and she rides my fingers until she’s wrung out. As she melts into relaxation, I drag my fingers free of her.
Abruptly, she partially rolls, peering at me over her shoulder. Her eyes are wide and satisfied. A slow grin curls her sweet looking lips.
“Should I—”
“That was all for you, little mama,” I interject, smiling like a kid at a candy store pleased with my selection of sweets. Only a tear slips from the corner of her eye.
“I’m going to be a mother,” she whispers as if horrified by what she’s done combined with her future.
“You’ll be perfect,” I assure her, kissing her shoulder once again.
“I’ll fuck everything up.”
I chuckle softly as I say, “Babe, you’ll be beautiful at it.”
“You’re sweet, and I’ve clearly lost my mind asking you to touch me. I took advantage of you again.” Her voice rings incredulous as if I’ve done something against my will. The only willpower I’ve had for days is keeping my hands off her.
“You did not.” My tone registers harsher than I mean. “I wanted to do this.”
“You shouldn’t, though. Shouldn’t want it. Shouldn’t have done it.” If she’s looking to lecture me in her newfound mom voice, I have no doubts she’ll be perfect at motherhood.
“Well, I won’t take it back,” I snap, and just to prove my point, I stick both fingers in my mouth and suck her juices off them. Her eyes widen as another tear spills.
Fuck.
“Don’t cry, gorgeous.” I use my thumb to swipe away another drip rolling toward her hairline.
“I can’t help it.” Her voice cracks, and my heart breaks.
“Shh,” I say, pulling her into me, rolling her to tuck her into my chest. I hold her like I held her before, wishing I never had to let her go.
+ + +
However, I do let her go. I’ve promised the guys a night out, and I need to talk to Tommy. I meet the guys at a bar in another resort where Petty claims the girls are better. Jared seems to have caught the eye of one in particular. Tommy sits in the VIP section sipping something dark, keeping his eyes on both Petty and Jared.
“Hey,” I mutter, falling into the seat next to him.
“Watching Petty make a move is like watching an octopus wrestle a shrimp.” I look up, wondering what he means until I see Petty begin his signature lean. One arm goes up, then his hand brushes her hair out of her face. He’s caged the girl in, but she doesn’t seem to mind. I don’t see why it matters to Tommy. “You know, I remember being young like that.”
I don’t consider Tommy Carrigan old, but I know what he means. However, women come to him, not the other way around, and he’s subtle. I’ve never seen him come on to a woman, but he always disappears with one.
“It’s exciting for a bit. The women. The hookups. And then it just gets old.” He takes a sip of the amber liquid in his glass.
“Speaking of old…” I begin, and Tommy narrows his eyes at me. “I wanted to apologize for last night.”
“Don’t worry about it, kid,” Tommy lifts his glass to his lips.
“Actually, I do worry about these things. So…I’m sorry. I just, I find myself protective of Ivy, and I don’t want her falsely accused of anything.” I’m a little guilty making this statement after being with her this afternoon, but Tommy doesn’t need any details.
Tommy eyes me a moment, staring at me until I’m unnerved by his glare. “We’re good.” He takes another sip of his drink, and silence falls between us a second.
“Why aren’t you married?” I tease.
“Never found the right woman.” He’s direct and honest in his statement, not even hesitating in his answer. “All the wrong women take advantage of you. The one you want is the one who won’t do that.”
I nod, instantly thinking of Ivy. She’d have nothing to gain from someone like me. As Kit’s daughter, she’s already lived the life of a sidekick to a rock star. She has plenty of money off the royalties alone from her mother. There isn’t anything she’d take from me.
I took advantage of you again. The words tumble through my head, but she didn’t. I gave her what I wanted to give.
“I’ll keep that advice in mind if I decide to marry.”
Tommy turns his face toward me, sizing me up for something.
“Speaking of advice…” I begin. “I’d like to ask some of you.” I rub my hand along my jeans-covered thighs. “Actually, I’d like to ask you for all the advice.”
Tommy snorts before taking another sip from his glass. “Kid, we’d be here all night.”
“Then I’d like to start tonight but continue tomorrow and the next day.”
His head shoots up, and his thick dark brows squeeze in question.
“I’d like to know if you’d consider being our manager.”
His mouth pops open, and I raise a hand. I prepared a speech, figuring he’d immediately reject the idea.
“You told me once that I remind you of yourself at my age. Eager. Hungry. Willing to do whatever it takes. But that’s the thing. I don’t want to be taken advantage of, and I don’t want to make stupid mistakes that I could have avoided had I known not to take those steps.”
“Look
,” Tommy says rather sharply. “That’s how it goes. You’re gonna make mistakes. You’re gonna fall on your ass. And then you’re going to pick yourself up, along with your guitar, and continue to play.”
If only it were that easy, and he and I both know it isn’t.
“I get that. I’ve already made mistakes. Poor choices. Followed the shiny things. But I figured with you as a mentor, a manager, you could guide us down the yellow brick road.”
“Looking for all the emeralds, huh?” Tommy smirks.
I chuckle, wiping my palms on my pants again. “Actually, it isn’t really about the money. I mean, sure, I could use it. Where I’m from, we never had much, but I’ve already earned more than I ever thought I would. It’s more about the music. I want to be heard. I want to change our sound a bit.”
Tommy’s brows furrow farther. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, we’ll still be considered rock, but I don’t want all the screaming and such we used when we opened for your band.”
“It’s what took you up the charts,” Tommy reminds me.
“But I think we can go higher with something a little…different…better.” I look down at my knees. “I’ve already been working on some new stuff. I’ve been inspired here.” My thoughts drift to Ivy again, but I can’t tell Tommy I’m having impure thoughts of his niece and it’s what fuels my creative fire. He’d make me swim back to the mainland.
“Okay,” Tommy states, nodding once.
“You’ll do it?” I ask, my voice rising, incredulous with the fact it was so easy.
“Nope.” He shakes his head. “But it’s good you’re writing something new. If you want to keep going minus Cash, it makes a statement that you’re a new entity without him. Different.” He leans toward me and winks. “Maybe even better.”
I nervously chuckle. “So why not? To the manager.”
“Kid, I don’t need to manage a band. I’ve already lived the life. I have family to take care of right now.”