by Maggie Marr
My gaze slid to the side. The tip of her nose, her full lips, her long brilliant amber-colored hair askew. Her breasts. Damn those perfect perky breasts. Everything about this girl was what I wanted. She’d been raised on rock and roll but she was all class. How could a motherfucker like me ever be the right guy for a woman like this? What the hell? A long pull of air into my lungs and I turned to her. I raised the sheet over both of us. She nestled in beside me. Her eyes didn’t meet mine. Instead she tilted her head down away from me. I grasped her around the waist and pulled her closer.
She deserved a perfect world. A world with a family and one-point-seven kids and a white picket fence and a fucking dog if that was what she wanted. She deserved it, but was I the guy to give it to her? She’d been pretty fucking honest when she’d said she and Johnny were no more because she couldn’t be a part of the rock star life. Wasn’t the rock star life the only thing I’d ever wanted?
Until Tasha.
I pressed my lips to the top of her head, her hair soft beneath them. The scents of magnolia and vanilla filled my nose. Scents that would forever remind me of now, this moment, and of Tasha. No matter what happened between us for now or later. We didn’t say any words. What was there to say? I pulled her close and she relaxed into my arms. And then the darkness of sleep claimed us both.
Chapter 13
Tasha
Sunlight burst through the gauzy white curtains. Rhett spooned me with his arm and leg thrown over my side. I didn’t want to move, not yet. He must have sensed it in his sleep because he pulled me tighter to his body. I relaxed into the warmth of him. There was comfort in listening to him sleeping and in the silence of the bungalow. A comfort that I needed. Last night my resolve had nearly melted. But surrendering to my feelings and forgetting the decisions I’d made and why I’d made them wasn’t an option for me. Not anymore. I’d once upon a time sublimated my life and my beliefs for a man, a rock star. While there had been some fun times that was all it had been. But, this, with Rhett, was different.
Rhett’s body tightened and the weight of his arm lifted from my hip. He stretched his arms over his head. I turned toward him and his dark serious gaze latched onto me.
“You mean something to me.”
My heart fluttered in my chest. There was no facade or barricade around his expression, his tone, or his words. The statement was pure and honest. He turned to his side and his fingertips brushed over my cheek.
“I want us to be together. I’ll do it your way. This isn’t just a casual affair. I moved past that last night.”
My eyes closed and my chest tightened. Was this a risk I was willing to take? Of course I’d said I would give Rhett a chance, but here, now, in the light of day, after last night? This conversation seemed all the more important, as though it now held a deeper meaning. This felt like a real commitment, a moment of truth and honesty between us. My heart wanted to say yes, but my head—with all I knew about music and touring and groupies and what was about to happen to Rhett with the release of his album—in my head I knew that I should say no. The smart decision would be to say no.
“I want that, too,” I said.
Not the smartest decision, perhaps, but the decision that fit with my heart.
Joy filled his eyes. Pure unadulterated happiness. He pulled me closer and my body pressed against the length of him.
“Are you saying that Miss Tasha Jones is my girlfriend?”
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” I asked, a playful lilt in my voice. My fingertips toyed with a strand of his hair.
“As in just one girlfriend?” He shook his head no and a smile widened across his face. “But I do now.”
I reflected his joy. Though I harbored a fear of what might happen, of what I thought would happen, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting Rhett, and not just wanting him physically, but also wanting him in my life. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his lips to still the fears in my head. His mouth opened to mine and we started the day, together, with the fire that our union could provide.
*
“A hike?” I asked. “You want to go on a hike?” I pulled my hair into a ponytail. I’d showered and dressed and we’d eaten a late breakfast delivered to our bungalow.
“What? You think I spent my entire childhood in smoky bars listening to guitars?”
“No, I just, well, I wouldn’t pin you for the outdoorsy type.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t like the outdoors?” Rhett asked. He circled his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. “Because that might be a deal breaker.”
“I love the outdoors.” I raised my eyebrow and looked at Rhett. “But you?”
“I spend a week every summer camping in Yosemite.”
“Really?”
“Inspiration. Clears my head. I come back and the words just flow.”
“Speaking of words, you might want to start working on the next album.”
“I know you like me,” Rhett said and kissed the tip of my nose, “and that I’m sleeping with the president of the label, but don’t you want to wait until my album comes out?”
I held my phone up to him. “Just got the early numbers. The album is getting a lot of pre-release play. Plus, it would seem the media is picking up on who you are.”
Two emotions fought on Rhett’s face. Delight over the possibility that his first album would be a hit, and pain, or maybe anger, over the thought that he was now irrevocably linked to the Legend name. People were finding him and were interested because they were discovering that Rhett Delgado was the son of Steve Legend.
He stepped away from me and turned toward the windows.
“You okay?”
He scrubbed his hands through his hair and then stuffed them both into the back pockets of his jeans. “You know, it’s not like he was the worst father in the world. It’s just that he wasn’t there, and he didn’t claim us the same way he claimed Amanda and Sterling. And that fucking hurt.” He shook his head. “When I was older and getting into a lot of trouble, he was never the one to come and help or talk to the cops. He’d send the most expensive lawyer in Los Angeles. But Dad? He never showed up.”
I walked over to him and placed my hand on his back.
“Success because of his name is hard for me. I know the music is solid, I know people are going to dig our sound, and I know this is a way for them to discover us, but fuck, Tash, relying on his name to get there? It’s fucking hard for me to take.”
My heart hurt for him, but this was the best decision for him, for his band, for his music, and for Left Coast. “It’ll get easier.”
“How?” He cocked an eyebrow and turned to face me.
“Maybe you can make peace with Sterling and let yourself be a brother to Amanda and him.”
“Amanda, maybe,” Rhett said. “But Sterling? I don’t think so.”
Rhett wouldn’t agree, but he and Sterling were similar. They were both driven by an obsession to get out from behind Steve Legend’s shadow. That drive fueled them. Maybe one of the reasons they didn’t get along was that they unconsciously saw those similarities in each other. “You and Sterling aren’t all that different.”
“What the fuck? How can you say that? We’re completely different. Mr. Straight-laced, play-it-by-the book big brother? For fuck’s sake! He looks like he stepped out of some fucking Banana Republic ad.”
“He wasn’t always so straight-laced, and you, Mr. Man, look like a guy who’d fit in a Banana Republic ad without the tattoos.” I wrapped my arms around Rhett. His body was tense. “You and Sterling both dislike your dad, and neither of you want to be standing in his shadow.”
Rhett’s body relaxed with my words.
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess that’s right. But Sterling is such a pretentious prick. You can’t even talk to the guy.”
“Right, and you’re so easy to read?”
“You seem to read me.” He turned in my arms and bent down and kissed my cheek.
&nbs
p; “I think you want me to. That first night? At the wedding? You were kind of defensive, with a giant chip on your shoulder. Even to me.”
“Never to you,” he said. His lips pressed to mine and I sank into his kiss. A kiss that was warm with underlying heat. We could just as easily fall back into bed as go on a hike. He pulled away from me. His eyes searched mine. “You’re the best thing I’ve got going,” he said. His voice was low and throaty. I wanted to believe him. I believed that at this very moment, with me in his arms, and us tucked away in Montecito and San Ysidro Ranch, that I was the best thing Rhett had going, but what about when a supermodel or actress showed up at his hotel with her panties in her hand?
He pressed his forehead to mine. “If we’re going to do this hike we have to get out of here now,” Rhett said. “Otherwise I’m stripping off your clothes and we’re going back to bed for the rest of the day.”
I pulled away and grasped his hand. “Come on, nature boy, let’s see what you got.”
Rhett
We broke through a clump of trees onto the overlook. The view from the top was fucking awesome. I scanned the horizon and pulled fresh air deep into my lungs. The Pacific clung to the horizon and bled into the bright blue sky. My head cleared. All the way up the trail I’d simmered with the thoughts of my success being solely based on my famous last name. When I broke through the trees, and looked out from high above the ranch, suddenly my fears had disappeared. This feeling of clarity, of leaving behind the bullshit was exactly why I loved the outdoors. Only when I was singing did I ever have this much lucidity.
And, now, I’d discovered that clarity and focus accompanied me when I was with Tasha. She stood closer to the edge of the overlook, with her hands on her hips and her shorts playing peek-a-boo with the curve of her ass. I was clear on her. Clear that this girl would be the best thing I ever found in my life. Some sort of blessing that I definitely didn’t deserve had landed square in my lap. Scared as hell that I’d fuck it up. Didn’t I fuck up most everything other than my music?
“I could stand here and look at this all day,” Tasha said. She turned and glanced at me.
“It’s a pretty awesome view,” I said. I didn’t just mean the panoramic setting. I meant Tasha, with her hair, her lips, her body, just her. How could any man let this treasure go? As much as I respected Johnny Tucker for his music, I thought he was a dumbshit. She had been his.
My ribs tightened. She had been his. She’d been Johnny’s. I pressed the thoughts from my brain. She’d left him and now she was with me. Johnny didn’t hold her heart, or so I thought. Tasha was really clear on what she wanted and how their relationship ended and, fuck, I didn’t want any details about what had gone on between them. I’d rather pretend in my brain that theirs had been a semi-platonic relationship with maybe some casual handholding. Fuck, I couldn’t make that fantasy work in my head.
“You look so serious,” Tasha said. She reached out her hand to me and I grasped her fingertips. With her touch and her smile all my fears slid away. Fears that I couldn’t be the man that Tash needed, fears that she still held Johnny in her heart, fears that my music actually sucked and my first album would tank, fears that the only reason people would buy the album was because of my famous last name.
“I’m thinking about you and how you’ve changed my life.”
“What? It’s been a couple of months. Tops.”
“I have an album and I have you. I always wanted one and never knew how much I needed the other.”
She blinked and her lips parted. She was stunned maybe by my honesty, maybe by the depth of my feeling and my emotion, maybe for fuck’s sake, because I was moving too fast for her. My heartbeat sped up. Damn, I didn’t want to scare her, make her afraid, but we were in pretty deep. Hadn’t we just made a commitment to each other less than two days before?
“I …” Her words trailed off as though she didn’t know how to say the words in her mind. I wrapped my arms around her and waited. I would stand on this ledge and wait forever with Tasha in my arms if I needed to.
“I want you to be happy,” Tasha said. “With your decision. But I also need you to be honest if things change.”
“I can do that,” I said. I pressed my lips to her forehead. Damn, I was getting hard. I wanted her. Now. In this place. My lips found hers and the kiss was sweet, but desire warmed the edges. My fingertips trailed up over her bare arms and I cupped her breast as our kiss deepened. She pulled away from me and looked around. The forest was empty aside from the pine trees.
“Here? Really?”
“Maybe not here,” I said and pulled her back down the trail to a clump of trees. The shadows made the air cooler and the trees created a private alcove. “But here would work.”
I tilted her face to mine and we kissed. Her hand pressed against the bulge in my jeans. The sun dappled through the trees. Shadow and light danced together around us. Her skin was warm and she smelled like pine trees and ocean. My fingers stroked her hair. My hand slipped down the front of her shorts and past her panties and her curls. I pressed one finger against her nub. She was already wet and slick with desire.
A soft moan escaped her lips. Fuck, yes. I stroked her and circled the slippery part of her core. I slipped my other hand up her shirt and under her bra. My fingertips teased her tight nipple. I lifted her shirt and my mouth grasped her straining breast. I stroked her with my tongue sucking and pulling. Her hips began their slow rhythmic circling as she pressed against my fingertips.
“Yes, Rhett, oh my God, yes.”
She unbuttoned me and she reached inside and pulled out my cock, hard and ready. She stroked down my shaft with her hand. Heat coiled in my low back. Every muscle in my body tensed. Release would come when I entered her and damn, I wanted that to be now. I turned her toward a tree and she grasped the trunk with both hands. I pulled her shorts down over her heart-shaped ass, now bare and beautiful and exposed to the sun. I pressed my hand against her smooth flesh and followed the curve as one would on a perfectly made guitar. Round and perfect. I could stare at Tasha’s bare ass for the rest of the day. The rhythm of her hips continued, mesmerizing me and calling to me. I stood behind her and grasped both of her hips. My cock nudged between her legs at her entrance. I wrapped my arms around her waist and my fingers continued to rub her clit. Her hips thrust back, her ass rolling in front of me. I pressed forward, my cock at the edge of her entrance.
“Please, God, Rhett, please.”
I loved teasing her. The guttural sound in her voice when she wanted me, when I would soon have her. I slid my cock forward a millimeter in response to her pleas. I paused and then I plunged into her. The soft heat, wet and warm and like nothing I’d experienced, surrounding my cock. Pulling me in. I thrust forward and back. My hand again playing with her sex.
“Yes,” Tasha said. “Please, yes.”
I pulled out and pushed harder and further into Tasha. She braced her hands against the tree. I grasped her hips and soon my control was slipping. I pushed in and pulled out. Her ass arched backward to meet my every stroke. Her moans and tiny little cries fueled the intensity of my desire.
“Please, Rhett, please now, baby, now.”
With her words a heat ground through my legs and up my body and release tore through me as every bit of my essence came from my body and into her.
“Fuck!” I ground out, biting down on my words and hoping that no one would hear us or see us, but part of me not caring. I was hip deep in Tasha and here was a place, if given a choice, I would stay forever.
“Yes,” she moaned and thrust backward against me one final time. Her sex clenched and drew out from me every bit of come.
We both slowed. I pressed my head to her back and then planted kisses along her spine. Fuck, I couldn’t keep my hands off of her. I wanted to touch her, needed to touch her. Tasha was the first compulsion I’d had that was as all-consuming as my music. I pulled out of her. She stood and I turned her to me in my arms. I planted kisses along her cheeks
, her eyes, the tip of her nose, and finally her mouth.
“I love you.” The words flew from my lips before my brain could halt them.
She paused, a bit of pain reflected in her eyes. I grasped her into a hug and pulled her close. Oh my fucking god. I was falling in love with Tasha Jones.
Tasha
Love? Did I love Rhett? He turned me on and I wanted to be with him. But love? I’d given my heart away too quickly and too freely in the past. I wasn’t certain that I wanted to do so again. What could I say to those words? I knew I was on the edge of something big with Rhett. Soon, I’d find out if I could trust him. My inbox was filled with updates from our publicity department about interview requests for Rhett. He was wanted on morning shows and afternoon shows and talk shows. The world was suddenly very interested in Rhett Legend Delgado.
These quiet moments were stolen. They wouldn’t last. The world in Los Angeles that he would return to would be different than the world he had left. The invitations to parties and premieres and swank events would pour in and he would, of course, say yes to all of them. Part of promoting his album was being seen, being out in the world, making headlines.
I entwined my fingers with his and looked into his eyes. “I love you, too,” I said. And I did, in this moment, far from the real world and the truth we’d have to confront. I absolutely did. I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled. “We need to get back. I have to make some calls and then we have to go to Los Angeles.”
Rhett’s brow crinkled. “You said I could steal you for a couple days.”
“Right, I know I did,” I said. I turned back toward the trail that was on the other side of the pocket of trees. “But we have to get back.”
“Why so fast?”
Was that worry in his eyes, in his tone?
“Because they want you on The Morning Show and I need to let publicity prep you. And you’re playing on Jimmy Kimmel Live. You’ve got to be TV ready with the band.”