Promise Me Forever (Top Shelf Romance)

by Kate Stewart

  “Fine, fine. I give!” She chuckled. “Momma called this morning. She said you haven’t called her back.”

  “I’m busy.”

  “But you called Dad,” she chided as she grabbed the cursed broom and set it next to the counter before she began counting her tips. We were dead at work, which was a good thing because Reid’s show was starting soon. I was dying to get there, but Paige was taking her sweet ass time doing her side work.

  “Neil’s waiting in the car,” I reminded as she finally started to cash out.

  “It’s good to make them wait,” she said playfully. I’d already changed into short black shorts, my TOOL T-shirt that I’d ripped at the collar, and applied some red lipstick. It was just enough for me to feel sexy but not so much that Paige would suspect anything. The whole day I’d spent dreaming of a repeat kiss at the very least. I had no idea what it meant. All I knew was that I wanted more, and my sister was once again in the way of it.

  Paige was smiling to herself. I knew that smile. “You love Neil.”

  “So much,” Paige said with soft eyes.

  “I love him for you,” I said honestly.

  “Yeah, we’re at the point where we’ll go somewhere or nowhere.”

  I scoffed. “You’ll be married in a year.”

  “I hope,” she said thoughtfully. “I think he’s waiting to finish school and get a good job, you know?”

  “What does it matter?”

  She looked at me pointedly. “It doesn’t, not at all.”

  “Tell him that,” I said as she and I both walked over to the tiny cubicle Leslie called an office and handed her our cash out.

  “I will.”

  “I need you to take me around next week to look for a place, okay?”

  Paige nudged me. “Finally.”

  “Don’t give me that shit. You could eat off your toilet.” She threw her arm around my shoulders as we met Neil at the car. “I’ll miss you.”

  “I’ll be in the same city, and I won’t miss your ass-eating couch.”

  There’s something about music that brings people together. But it has to be the right music. When it came to the music that touched me, I was addicted to the drive of emotions it brought: anger, love, hate, greed, hunger, thirst, desperation, redemption, peace, and fantasy. Music was my touchstone, my place of worship. If I went without it too long, I felt an addict’s itch. I could live on it. I thrived on it. It was my second air.

  But the night I saw Reid Crowne play, that balance shifted.

  “Hurry up,” I squeaked as I showed the doorman my ID and pushed past the line to take one of the last tables on the side of the stage. Paige sat down next to me as Rye took the stage and began running through chords on the guitar. He looked our way and gave us a nod.

  My heart galloped as the club went dark. Neil joined us at the table with fresh beers, obstructing my view. I grabbed the offered suds and damn near yelled at him to get the hell out the way. When he finally moved, I saw Reid was already sitting behind his battered set.

  Inside, I was rattling as I took a sip of beer and sat back in my seat. I’d been to hundreds of shows and had never been nervous. And before I could catch my breath from the sight of him in his usual attire of steel-toed black boots, jeans, and a T-shirt—totally unoriginal, but like catnip for me—I heard the tick of his sticks. And then I was surrounded.

  It took every bit of strength I had to keep my mouth closed. Everything about their dynamic changed when Reid was playing with them, at least it had for me. He sat behind his set, composed and totally relaxed, the stick an extension of his arms keeping perfect rhythm. Ben brought down the house, while Rye slayed it on guitar and Adam executed on bass.

  “Stella!” Paige yelled in an attempt to get my attention. She nudged me with her shoulder and forced me to take my eyes away from Reid.

  “So, what do you think, Ms. Future Rolling Stone?”

  I think I’m falling in love with the king of nothing.

  But it wasn’t nothing. It was anything but. “They’ll be signed in less than a year,” I stated without hesitation.

  Baffled, I looked back at the stage.

  “Told you,” Paige said to Neil as I zeroed in on them individually, noting how well they played off each other before I turned my attention back to Reid, who never, not once, acknowledged his audience. He was all business, but I could tell as he glanced over to Ben, who occasionally fucked with him, that playing was his second air. I was riveted, completely and utterly enthralled. Sweat gathered at his temple. I’d never in my life seen anything sexier than Reid Crowne skillfully spinning his sticks with expertise before he gunned his beats. His sweat-drenched hair flying loosely around his face while he dug in and reacted to the music with his body, immersed in his rhythm. Heat glistened off his neck as he rode the wave of music, his timing flawless. He bit his lip when he sped up, rocking his body as my chest rose and fell with desire. I was thirsty and wanted nothing more than to drink the salt off his skin, straddle his lap, and rock myself against him. Newly addicted, Reid’s beats my fix. I would never get enough of the sight of him in his element as he owned the stage.

  The Sergeants mixed a few originals I’d heard at practice that had serious potential with some on-point covers. Ben had told me at The Garage that covers weren’t the time to make music their own, because it wasn’t their hard work to fuck with. It was a time to pay tribute. Reid had told him that was the biggest load of bullshit he’d ever heard in his life, and that some of the most remembered songs were remade covers, but he played the same drum beat anyway to appease him. The two seemed to playfully duel often about direction, while Rye and Adam were the less temperamental and just eager to play. And even without knowing their personalities, I knew they were all a match. Their sound was a mix of straight-laced, old-school rock paired perfectly with elements of metal, psychedelic, and punk. I was utterly manic and more than floored bearing witness to the beginning of something. I damn near lost my shit when they started an acoustic version of “Freak on a Leash” by Korn that turned it into a masterfully crafted crescendo of epic metal feedback through their amps. Reid tore his drums to shreds while Ben fucking blew the lid off the vocals. And I wasn’t the only one in the club reacting. Paige was on her feet, unleashing her screams right along with Neil, and it wasn’t until I noticed them standing that I realized I was doing it right along with them. The whole floor filled within an hour of the start of their second set, people busting at the seams, full of recognition and admiration. There was no shortage of women, either, who were vying for the attention of the charismatic lead singer with a versatile voice, guitarist, bassist, and the drummer, who didn’t bother to acknowledge they existed. I was fully intoxicated and hadn’t touched my beer since they started. And I was thankful. I played off the crowd as we gathered and worshipped at the altar of the Dead Sergeants and they rioted.

  “You’re quiet,” Paige remarked on the way home as she turned in her seat to look back at me. I hid my disappointment at the fact that Reid was still in the club surrounded by any number of women, who started buying him beers before his set was over. We’d briefly caught the band after their second set. Paige hugged Reid like a proud mother while I stood back silently as she went on and on. He only glanced my way once, his playful eyes lit with adrenaline as I stayed back and waited for a second alone with him, a word, a whisper, and got nothing. Ben gripped me in a bear hug from behind and carried me to the bar for a celebratory shot, which I sucked down without hesitation.

  “Where’s my girl, Stella?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “She just can’t get away. She’s moving here in a few weeks, but I have a feeling you know that.”

  “I do,” he yelled over the new music that filtered throughout the club.

  “Then be patient,” I said as he glanced at a girl over my shoulder. He smiled at her then shared the same one with me. “Lexi’s worth it.”

  “And what about you?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

&
nbsp; “I’m in love with the Sergeants. Jesus, Ben!”

  He gave me a knowing grin. “That good?”

  “So much better than that.”

  “Doesn’t hurt we have our man back,” he said, nodding toward Reid, who was only feet away. I could feel him behind me, the rattle becoming an ache. I was acting like an amateur and repeating old habits. I felt the brush of fingertips slide along the hem of my T-shirt across my back as he passed me. He looked over his shoulder and our eyes connected before he pointed to the bartender. I was about to go to him, a hungry moth, when Paige grabbed Ben’s T-shirt and pulled him in for a brief hug.

  “You. Were. Fucking. Awesome!” Paige gave him a mother hug as she turned to me with a sigh. “God, it’s hot in here. You ready to go?”

  With a regretful look in Reid’s direction, I shrugged. “Yeah.”

  Paige gripped my hand and whisper-yelled to Reid, who nodded then clasped hands with Neil before I was dragged outside, my gaze lingering on him before I was rushed through the door.

  Back in the car, I answered my sister and did my best to hide my resentment. “I’m fine. Tired.”

  “Yeah, but, God, they just keep getting better. I want to go next week,” she told Neil.

  “’K, babe.”

  Paige moved in her seat with energy as I lay back, painfully aroused and restless.

  At home, I stood under the showerhead and wiped away a night of sweat and a tear of frustration. Why did this have to be so fucking complicated?

  I wanted him.

  He wanted me.

  I think.

  Screw the consequences.

  Fire brewed in my belly as Neil and I placated my sister by watching her favorite movie, Clueless. I yawned double-time as I looked at the clock.

  11:00 p.m. Go to bed, Paige.

  11:11 p.m. Make a wish, Stella. I wished for Reid Crowne.

  12:13 a.m. Is he even home?

  1:00 a.m. I stared a hole through my sister’s head.

  1:16 a.m. It was a stupid idea anyway.

  1:32 a.m. “Goodnight,” Paige said with a smile as Neil grabbed her hand and led her into their bedroom.

  “’Night,” I whispered low, as if I were about to fade off to sleep. I rolled my blanket out, fluffed my pillow, brushed my teeth, and twenty minutes later, I snuck out the front door.

  Every step I took in the direction of his apartment was filled with uncertainty. Every single minute, the ache got stronger. I raced toward him, a woman on fire, rushing to the heat of his lips, the flame in his kiss.

  “Please be home,” I whispered as I took his stairs two at a time. I knocked softly and waited.

  Go back, you fucking groupie!

  The door opened a second after I turned my back to it.

  I looked over my shoulder and began to stutter like an idiot to a shirtless and sweating Reid.

  Furious with myself, I glared at him and his beautiful torso. “I just didn’t get a chance to tell you that the show was good.”

  “Good?” he said with an arched brow. “Are these the adjectives you’ll use when you write for Speak?”

  I gave him upturned lips and the bird. On the verge of exploding with feelings I had no idea I was capable of, I backed away. “So, I guess you’re busy in there.” I motioned past his shoulder. “See you at work.”

  “Stella.”

  I stopped my feet and braved a glance his way. He lifted his arm on the frame enough for me to squeeze past.

  “You’re alone?”

  He smirked at the smile on my face as I passed beneath his arm. There was no use hiding my relief. Before I knew what was happening, I was nailed to the back of his closed front door.

  He raised my hands above my head and threaded his fingers through mine.

  “Why the hell didn’t you come last night?”

  He captured my mouth—my answer—and overruled any excuse I might have had. And in that kiss, I felt the freedom I so desperately needed. Our hands still clasped, he twisted them behind my back, pressing his body into me while teasing me with his wicked mouth. I writhed in his hold as I met the deep exploration of his tongue and damn near buckled when he pulled back and bit my bottom lip before he let it go.

  Eyes searing into mine, chest rising and falling. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Take my clothes off?” I said, completely incapable of the art of conversation. My center ached, soaked with need. All I could do was pant. “I write better than I talk.”

  He chuckled and nipped at my neck, my hands still bound by his, pinned to his solid frame. He hesitated and then gripped my hands tighter as if he were afraid to leave me to my own devices.

  “Whatever you are about to say, I truly don’t give a damn,” I said, my whisper heated as I leaned into him to try to capture a new kiss. “Fuck me,” I demanded before I caught his lips and kissed him with as much promise as he had me. “Right now,” I said as I swept my tongue across his bottom lip. “Reid Crowne.”

  I saw his eyes darken before he released my hands. We collided again, mouths and tongues groping for more. I couldn’t get close enough, and he was hungry. I lost my shirt by his hands. He lost his jeans by mine. I lost my shorts, and he lost his boxers. I gripped him, heavy in my hand, and gasped as he fisted my hair and filled my mouth with another soul-shattering kiss. I was broken, exposed, and beat by his lips alone.

  “Oh, God,” I rasped out as he skimmed beneath my panties and found me soaked. The pads of his fingers slid through my drenched middle and grazed my clit.

  “Stella,” he said with a groan, “you fuck with me.” He exhaled heavily as he drew out another tongue-filled trail of kisses above my bra. He cupped a heavy breast and thumbed the material off my nipple before taking it in his mouth. His fingers moved inside me, and I buckled at the sight of his closed eyes while he fed, gripping his hair and clutching him to me. It was too much, way too much, and I was slipping somewhere between lust and beautiful oblivion, afraid to let myself fall there because I didn’t want to miss anything.

  “Goddamn,” Reid said, his voice hoarse as he pulled away to stare at me. “Fucking grenade.”

  I would not be denied another second. I pumped his cock tight in my hand and slid my thumb over his silky head. He jerked and cursed under his breath while I licked the salt off his chest. I tugged at his length and let myself get lost as I worshipped his taut muscles with my tongue. We stumbled toward his mattress before I landed hard on my back, chest heaving. He lingered on his knees, taking me in while he hooked my panties with his thumbs and slowly slid them down my legs. Darkening, lust-filled eyes washed over me as he spread me wide. Hot hands moved up and down my thighs as he watched me writhe.

  “Please,” I said as I reached for him, and he batted my hands away before he bent his head and licked me smoothly from center to top. I jerked in welcome at the feeling of his tongue as it darted out, and I released a loud moan. His mouth teased while his jaw scraped against my thighs. It only took seconds for me to detonate against his merciless tongue. I was still gasping when he pulled back on his knees, his thumb working my clit as he ripped a condom with his teeth. Hovering over me, he trailed a hand up my body, covering every naked inch of me, and cupped my face before he gripped the back of my head, nails dragging across my scalp, a firm grip on my hair, and pushed into me. I choked on the full feeling as he groaned and buried himself. Anchored by his mouth and shaking underneath him, he drove into me hard and deep until I was matching his thrusts and whimpering on his tongue. He burned through me, with me.

  Rapture.

  Completion.

  I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe, and all I wanted was more. He took me further than I’d ever flown before we crashed into a tangled mess onto his mattress.

  Spent, on our backs, and heads facing each other, we caught our breath as we studied each other through new lovers’ eyes. I had so many words circling through my head, but I couldn’t do anything but stare at him. He slowly trailed his fingers over m
y lips, down my neck, and over the curve of my breasts. And while his fingers explored, his eyes stayed on mine, filling the silence, and in them I saw the piece of me that he took.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I Belong to You: Lenny Kravitz

  I collapsed onto Reid’s chest as he rode out his release, gripping my ass and pumping me back and forth. When we had both recovered, I pulled back, locked around his hips, and narrowed my eyes.

  “Don’t ever call me little sister again.”

  His smile was breathtaking as he looked up at me with residual heat. “Promise.”

  “And by the way, what I meant to say was I was completely blown away.”

  “I had a feeling it was better than good with you when you started screaming.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I was talking about the show.”

  “So was I,” he said with a sly grin.

  “How would you know? You never once looked up.”

  He leaned in and took my nipple in his mouth, mumbling.

  “What?”

  He pulled back with my flesh between his teeth. “I never look out. I’m not there for them.”

  “God,” I said with a scoff. “Just there for the music? How typical.”

  “I don’t like crowds.”

  I pulled my nipple away and moved to lie on my side, propped up on my hand. “You’re about to have a big problem.”

  “Fuck, you look so good without clothes on,” he said as he dipped in again and pinned me on my back, sucking my peaked flesh until it hurt. I shrieked and tugged at his hair.

  “Reid, what are you going to do when you go on tour?”

  He pulled away and looked at me like I’d just grown a third nipple.

  “Tour?”

  “Yeah, you’ll get signed soon. You’ll have to tour.”