Yeah, well, sounded like they were uptight assholes to him.
“But then I came here to San Diego and discovered the power of targeted, effective communication. I want to be a publicist and help people to defend themselves against public attacks or control their own story. I don’t know exactly how, but I’ll figure it out.”
Damn. “The things you told Simon about giving his wife a voice. They’re because you were silenced.”
“Yes. I don’t know why his wife made that choice, but if Simon really cares, then he needs to be the one to tell her story. Not let the vultures twist it, because they will.”
She cared so much. Passion turned her eyes to green fire. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” He leaned down, brushing his lips over hers. “You won’t be silent with me. Ever.”
Her lips parted, eyes glazing slightly. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“Like what?” He touched her face, gliding his fingers over her jaw. “Use that voice.”
Her face warmed with color, the strain easing. “You. I wasn’t supposed to want you so much I’d risk it all to find out what this is between us.”
Hot pleasure skated through him. How she could be this brave, he didn’t know. He understood now what the stakes were for her. But she was here, and for this moment, she was his. “It’s going to be okay, Liza. No one has to know your past. We’ll see each other and not make a big deal of it publically. I won’t hide you, I’m not doing that, but we won’t give anyone a reason to look any deeper.”
He’d protect her. She trusted him, and he’d damn well make sure that trust wasn’t misplaced.
* * *
Liza desperately wanted to believe him because right now her want outweighed her brain. She’d told Justice the truth, and he still saw her as the whole woman, not just the girl at the heart of the scandal of the century.
But was the risk worth it?
Easy answer. One look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity, and the way he’d treated her—yes. She’d lived on the sidelines for long enough. “So we’re doing this?”
His eyes crinkled. Shifting, he put his arm around her, drawing her close to him. “Oh we’re doing it, but not tonight. Not before we talk about what you went through so I understand your triggers, what scares you and what you need.”
His bluntness shocked her. Few people discussed the whole nightmare so frankly. A cool sense of relief swept through her. She didn’t have to pretend or act like it didn’t happen. It made her feel less freakish that she could talk about it. “I was drugged, so I don’t remember the actual rape. I woke up in the hospital sick, vomiting, people telling me things, cops asking questions.” The room had been cold. That sensation stayed with her. The bone-chilling cold, followed by flashes of icy heat, frigid sweat covering her as her stomach heaved. She hadn’t known where she was, what was happening. Her brain was fogged, everything hurt, and she wanted her mom. “My mom wasn’t there. I didn’t understand why. I kept begging them to get my mom, please, just get my mom.”
“Shit.”
She jerked her gaze up. Justice’s face had gone hard and mean. Okay, she’d gone too far. “Sorry, I—”
“Don’t you fucking dare apologize. Yeah, hearing it makes me pissed and ready to kill the bastard who hurt you. And the people who took your mom away when you needed her. I don’t care who she killed that night—she should have been there until you got your bearings. So we’re setting the rules, right here, right now. Those are my feelings, and we don’t silence those. Not mine and not yours, got me?”
Never had she been lectured and loved it so much. “Yes.” Her courage notched up. “Since I don’t remember the actual assault, my problems aren’t really with sex. I’ve had sex, maybe not great sex, but I’m working on getting there. But I can’t go to sleep around anyone else, especially men. So I don’t do overnights and that kind of thing. As for what I do remember, I’m not ready to tell you all of it.” She held her breath, waiting to see his reaction. She’d been as truthful as she knew how, including the part about maybe not having great sex. Would he think her too much work? Not worth it?
He rubbed the bare skin of her arm. “So let’s talk about something else.”
She relaxed, some deep tension easing. “Like what?”
“Something I’m curious about. Were you always called Liza? You said you changed your name, but Liza is a nickname for Elizabeth, right?”
“No. My mom called me Beth, or Elizabeth when she was pissed. Most everyone did—called me Beth, I mean. Elizabeth Ranger was somewhat recognizable, even though most of the media didn’t use my name since I was a minor. After the trial, my aunt and grandmother wanted it changed to attract less attention. Liza is what they picked, and I did what they asked. Glasner is my mom’s maiden name, and fewer people knew that. So I became Liza Glasner.”
“Beth.” He uttered it slowly, as if savoring the single syllable. “I like it, the softer side of you. It’s pretty.”
“Soft?” She refused to think about her thighs straining her jeans, the price of using candy as one of her comforts. Although writing her secret stories, creating entire worlds that she controlled and her characters could say anything she wanted them to, helped her cope the most.
He pressed his fingers beneath her chin, tilting it up. His blue eyes homed in on hers, fierce and steely. “Soft in all the right places. Beth fits you, at least who you are right here with me.”
The intimacy in his gaze went deeper than sexual, stirring ashes of the girl she’d been. It made her long to reach out and try, to push herself to see who she could really be. Although, she’d reached for a dream once, and that had led to her rape, her dad’s murder, mom in prison and Liza bearing the endless shame.
All the emotions of the night were almost too much. She instinctively pulled back, needing to get a handle on herself. Tugging her chin from his hold, she twisted her watch, staring down at the big piece of jewelry covering her ugly scars. “It’s just a name.”
“Your name. It’s yours, Beth. No one else gets to take it from you.”
Involuntarily, she looked up. He’d shifted, leaning back and giving her a couple inches of space. But his words…he got it. So much of her childhood and identity had been removed or hidden, as if shame were attached to it. She swallowed, ready to shift the spotlight off her. “Where’d you get your name?”
A thin smile ghosted over his lips. “My dad chose it. Justice is one of the fourteen leadership traits that earns a Marine respect.”
“Lot of pressure for a kid to live up to.” A military dad and a name like that must have set up a lot of expectations. “Did he want you to go into the Marines?”
“Probably.” He leaned forward, scooping the remote off the coffee table. “Want to watch a movie?”
Diversion tactic, but they’d both had enough emotional minefields tonight, or at least she had. “Sure.”
He switched the TV to Netflix and handed her the remote. “Pick something. I’ll put away the leftovers and get some popcorn.” Justice left the room.
She made a selection, then waited a couple minutes, but Justice didn’t return. Unable to just sit there, she headed into the kitchen to find him loading the dishwasher. He glanced up. “Regular or cheese-flavored popcorn?”
Gathering up the pans, she took them to the sink. “Cheese. Go do that while I wash these.”
He glanced down at her. “Bossy.”
She smiled sweetly, enjoying the lighter moment. “You’d rather wash the pans?”
“Cheese popcorn coming right up.” He headed to the pantry.
Liza found the soap and got to work scrubbing the pans to the sound of the popping corn.
“What movie did you pick?”
He’d been so nice to her, she should tell him the truth. Yet when she opened her mouth, she couldn’t help answering with, “The Notebook.”
She heard the thunk of a bowl hitting the counter. Liza focused on rinsing the first pan and tried not to
laugh. She’d had a hunch he’d object. It really wasn’t a guy movie.
“You better be joking.” The microwave opened and closed, and a few seconds later the scent of popcorn and cheese flooded the room.
“What? It’s awesome. Have you seen it? I love that movie.” She scrubbed the skillet, keeping her head low and hair covering her face.
“I’m calling bullshit.” His low voice sounded behind her, so close the cadence shivered inside her chest. His warmth spread out along her back. Her skin came alive, prickling with awareness. Her belly fluttered with a sweet sensation, a combination of fun and desire.
“Okay, fine, I was kidding. I picked Twilight.” She turned her head, doing her best to look innocent. “It’s my most favorite movie ever. I love men who sparkle.”
“Such a little liar.”
“Am not. Men who sparkle are hot.”
A low laugh spilled out. “Now I know you’re lying.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Oh I know. You like me, and I don’t sparkle. You like your men raw, honest, maybe a little rough. But sparkle? Not even that pussy Dillion sparkled.” Justice ran his hands down her arms, skating over her bare skin to the insides of her elbows.
Pleasure rushed through her, and her breath caught. She clutched the edges of the pan. Dillion never made her feel playful desire. Because you never dated men you really liked, but ones you thought you could control. Lifting her chin, she met Justice’s gaze.
“You’re tempting me,” Justice said. “Too damned much.”
That growl thrilled her and scared her a little. “Justice…”
Before she could form the thought, he caught her shoulders and turned her.
Warm soapy water flew from her hands. “You’re getting water everywhere.”
He framed her face with his palms. “Don’t care. Now tell me. Want me to back off?”
Her heart thumped. “Shrek. The movie I chose.”
Amusement flashed in his eyes. “That I believe and approve of. Shrek’s cool.”
“And no.”
“Don’t stop? I’m going to kiss you, Beth. Is that what you want?” He leaned closer.
Her mouth dried. The microwave dinged a distant, faraway noise that barely registered while Justice filled her world, his hands on her face keeping her anchored. Putting her palms on his shoulders, she could feel the coiled tension through the cotton of his T-shirt, indicative of the control he exerted over himself. What would happen when he let go of that? “Kiss me.”
Justice wrapped an arm around her, tugged her into his body and brushed her hair behind her ear. Intensity rippled between them. “Be sure, baby. I’m not holding back. I crave you too much to pretend this is anything but the kiss of a man who wants you.”
God, he didn’t treat her as a freak. “I’m sure.”
His mouth curved. “We’ll stop with a kiss. You already told me you’re not ready for more.”
She shivered, completely believing him. He’d sent her home last night with nearly the same words. He brushed his full lips over hers.
The kiss was sweet and pleasant, but not hot. Was he holding back despite what he said?
Justice shifted, gathering her hair in his hand and tilting her head back. He trailed his mouth over her jaw, down the tender skin of her throat.
Wet fire licked her flesh. Shivers danced, tingles shot to her nipples. She clutched his arms, aware of his strength. Now she understood—he’d been giving her a few seconds to adjust. To feel him, trust him.
He took her mouth, sliding his tongue in. He tasted of dinner, heat and all male. He feasted on her in a maddeningly slow and sexy assault that ramped up her hunger to taste and explore. Liza went up on her toes, dueling her tongue with his, her own aggression startling her.
His hand glided down her back, cupping her ass. Against her belly his erection pressed thick and hard.
Her blood thundered. Need twisted low in her pelvis, making her gasp. She gripped his shoulders, desperate to taste and feel more of him.
He broke the kiss, burying his face in her hair, and whispered, “Beth. What are you doing to me?” He cradled her face to his chest.
His heart thumped against her cheek through the cotton of his shirt. “I don’t know.”
He tugged her head back. “I didn’t expect it to get out of control so fast. You’re just so damned perfect.” He drew a deep breath.
She glanced away, staring at the wall by the backyard door where a set of four tiles with chickens and roosters hung. She wasn’t perfect, and her issues bothered her. In the past, she’d chosen weak men who let her set the terms. It wasn’t going to be like that with Justice. Not that he’d pushed, but rather he evoked her own desire to be wilder, to just let go. And that scared her. “Those chickens are staring at us.”
“You afraid of chickens?” Sliding his hand up her back and beneath her hair, he wrapped his warm fingers around her nape.
“Nope.” She liked them, and loved how warm and lived-in this kitchen felt. Homey. Safe. That made her brave enough to tell him the truth. “I might be a little, tiny bit afraid of this, of how you make me feel.”
“And how’s that?”
“Out of control. Needy.” She licked her lips. “I want to keep kissing you and not think anymore.”
He dragged his thumb along the curve of her neck. “Good.” Leaning down, he pressed his mouth to hers. “When you want it bad enough that it hurts, when you can’t bear not having me inside you, then you’ll be ready.” Pulling back, he released her. “But that’s not tonight. Unfortunately.” He took another long breath and walked stiffly to the microwave. “Grab some drinks, and I’ll get the popcorn.”
Feeling slightly off balance, she blurted out, “That’s your plan?”
After getting the popcorn and some napkins, he looked over his shoulder. “What?”
“Make me wait?” She wasn’t sure why it threw her. “Is this some kind of tease thing?” Justice didn’t seem like the type to hold back.
Picking up the bowl, he crossed the kitchen and stared into her eyes. “I’m not teasing. I want your trust. All of it. I’ve never really cared before. If a girl wanted to fuck, and I was attracted? It was on. Clothes off, dick covered, and I fucked her.”
She almost stepped back at the raw honesty. Almost. She’d asked him, so she’d stand there and hear the answer.
“You’re not that girl. I don’t know exactly what you are yet, but you matter. And right now being back in this town, fighting to win Court of Rock, is consuming me. My band? They’re everything to me. I need them, but when it comes down to the end—it’s going to be on me. If I screw up, I’ll lose it for us. That pressure rides me like a rash day and night, sucking the ability to breathe out of my lungs.” He paused and added, “I can’t let them down.”
The admission surprised and touched her. She was seeing the human side of the rock star.
“And being here in this house? I love this house, but part of me hates it at the same time. Every time I see the closed door to my dad’s room, I know I’ve failed to keep my promise to my grandma to find him and bring him home. And it pisses me off, an icy-hot rage that’s right there, crouched in my mind, ready to spring.” His fingers around the plastic bowl whitened. “I’m not good enough for my dad.”
Rage? Frustration? Hurt? She put her hand on his arm, trying to ease the pain in him.
“And then there’s you. Every time you look at me, trust me, I’m a freaking god. You make me feel that. So this? Waiting for you to be ready to let go?”
Liza held her breath and tilted toward him.
“Worth every second it takes. I’m not teasing or playing mind games. I’m giving us time to figure out what we’re doing here. Now grab a couple waters, and we’ll watch the movie.” He walked out to the living room.
Liza stood in the kitchen beneath the gaze of the chickens. Oh she was in trouble here.
She might fall for a rock star. And fall hard.
C
hapter 6
Liza’s phone kept vibrating on top of her messenger bag in the theater seat next to her. On stage the band was finishing up practice while ignoring the newly installed stationary cameras catching raw footage. She stayed out of camera range even when taking pictures or videos to post to social media.
Scooping up her phone, she glanced at a series of the texts from Aunt Mari asking variations of, Have you heard back on the internship? What’s the name of the company?
Annoyance had her squeezing the phone. Same questions every few days. Quickly she typed back, Not yet. I won’t hear for another two weeks. Will let you know.
Setting her cell down, she returned to her laptop and filling out the information package for the morning show interview coming up on Monday. They had asked for a biography of each band member and an outline of discussion points so the interviewer could prep over the weekend.
Her phone vibrated once more. A glance at the screen told her it was her aunt again, and she ignored it. She switched to her notes from the meeting she’d had with Simon this morning. Could she tout that one of the band members was going to break their silence on their past or something like that?
Tempting, but she knew the answer—no. They didn’t want to give any advance warning that might clue in Ace and let him release the story first. Simon was somewhat grudgingly trusting her, and she wouldn’t let him or the band down. Liza stared at the screen, thinking…
Her phone vibrated over and over. Shifting her gaze, she saw it was a phone call this time. Aunt Mari wasn’t giving up, and it wasn’t right of Liza to ignore the woman who’d done so much for her. After shoving her computer into the bag, she slung it over her shoulder. The guys were finished for the day and talking on the stage. Grabbing her phone, she answered with, “Hang on a second, Mari.” She slipped out a side door to the backstage area.
Savaged Dreams: Savaged Illusions Trilogy Book 1 Page 8