by Lisa Gillis
“What about Chris?” Jack asked while pooling steak sauce into his potato.
Quickly, she looked away from that less than appetizing sight to the muted flat screen.
“His ol’ lady is not feeling up to it....Hey, last night, that new Strings and Beat journalist, hot huh? Yowsir!”
“I didn’t notice,” Jack returned.
“Oh right, man. I know that’s right.”
Resisting the urge to glare at the Reed and sneak a look at Jack’s face, she kept her eyes on the television. Coincidentally enough, Jack’s image, along with the rest of Jackal, flashed on. Before she could become too captivated, the airing went to its next celebrity.
“Dax, dude...” Jack’s voice sounded peculiarly like a chastisement. Curiously, she brought her interest down from the screen to study the interaction between the two of them and found Jack smiling. “You outdid yourself man, great grub!”
Dax curved an answering smile, but closed his hand on the television remote and the screen went dark.
Picking up her phone, she walked toward the lookout area as she punched at the screen. Ideally, she would go into the house, but leaving Tristan in the pool while Jack’s attention could be otherwise occupied with his friends was not an option.
Darkness was just beginning to fall, and dotting the mountainside was a smattering of lights. They grew denser until, then at the very foot, in the valley, was a massive glow.
“Hey Liv.” Marissa’s greeting was a happy sigh into the phone when her friend answered.
“Hey yourself. I see you survived. Tell me everything!”
Filling her friend in on the details of the party, she left out everything she had wanted to vent this morning.
“So you had a good time? Really, Rissa?”
“I did.”
The music someone had switched on when the television went off seemed louder every minute.
“Sounds like you are at a party now...”
“Sort of, I guess. Some of the guys are over.” Marissa sought Tristan out as she spoke and found him back to playing with his cars at the water’s edge.
“Did you really wreck that bitch’s car?”
Startled, Marissa turned back to the valley where even more lights were now twinkling. “How do you know about that?”
“It’s all over. They are saying you did it on purpose. Because of her being Jack’s ex.”
“What? I did not!”
“Well if you did, respect, Rissa.”
“Where are you hearing this?” The shifty scene between Jack and Dax and the resulting power-off of the t.v. came intermediately to mind.
“I will send you the links, okay?” Then, “Don’t jump into anything with Jack just because he is Tristan’s dad. Promise me that.”
“What are you saying?” Just a few days ago, her best friend had been shoving her to Jack, not that Marissa needed any push.
“I am just saying if it is not what you expected, if HE is not all you expected, come home, okay?”
Almost word for word Clayton’s text. Deciding not to argue, Marissa said goodbye, and jumped at Jack’s voice.
“Who are you talking to?” A scowl clouded his face. His brows drew together, and turbulence flashed his dark eyes. Taking a swig of his drink, he looked down the length of the bottle.
“Olivia.” Closing her phone in her fist, she evaluated his challenging stare. The atmosphere was heavy with something hanging between them, as it had been off and on all day—only more palpable.
Her earlier hunch suddenly returned–that Jack had read Clayton’s text. Had he approached her on the possibility that she was calling an old flame?
“Well com’on.” A lighthearted grin replaced the strange look shadowing his face. “Liz is here, and Em. You are no longer the only shorty.”
She rolled her eyes having heard Reed call women shorties a half a dozen times now, and hoped it wasn’t a term Jack often used also.
Tristan, sharing a couch with Emma, was wrapped in a towel forking up sliced fruit in a cup. Emma had him engaged in conversation over one of his books and Marissa headed that way when Jack veered off to rejoin the guys at the bar. Liz emerged from the bathroom and glanced at the group of guys before changing her direction and seating herself in a chair beside Marissa.
The party rocked on. At first, this gathering was every bit as enjoyable as the after party the previous night. She was still tired from the night before and marveled at Jack’s ability to keep up.
He was the life of the party. His humorous one-liners kept the guys in stitches. Occasionally, raunchy ‘guy only’ talk drifted over to the women’s group as their experiences on the road were recalled in detail.
Each time, Marissa would glance at Tristan, but he was wearing a headphone set and watching a portable DVD player. Jack was respectful of her being in earshot, but she heard plenty from Reed’s loud mouth that left too much to her imagination.
The other girls took it in stride, having their own conversations of guys, but Marissa had heard enough of Jack’s side of the patio to gradually settle into a stony silence.
Tristan fell asleep on his sofa, and she rescued the DVD player from his slipping grasp. Grasping on to this excuse to casually exit, she mentioned taking him up to bed, with the intention of slipping off to bed herself.
Immediately, she had Jack’s full attention, and he sent Dax after a blanket. “He’s fine out here?” It was a statement as much as a question, and he reassured, “If he wakes up, I will take him up to bed, okay?”
Since it was their first night in such a situation, she agreed, but she knew that if this actually was the lifestyle, and not just an extended album drop celebration, she was not going to have Tristan sleeping on a couch amidst a loud party night after night.
When Emma and Liz drifted to the bar, Marissa continued to sit, playing with her phone until she felt Jack’s eyes on her. With a smile she didn’t feel, she reluctantly joined the rest of them silently swearing to be off to bed at the first groupie story.
Instead, she was subjected to a story about herself.
Reed threw back his head in a loud cackle. “That’s so dope, dude. Oh, Mariss, you actually told Musician’s Muse you hated Jack’s music?”
“Hey, that’s just proof that I’m not marrying a groupie, for all those gossip bags.” Jack grinned, proud of his dissertation.
Chris shot back, “Dude? You seriously think the groupies like our shit?”
“Oh they like our shit alright,” Reed retorted, and he and Jack bumped beer bottles.
Jack was in a heated discussion about a recent band breakup. Liz and Emma were also in the middle of it, and Marissa stealthily slipped from the group.
CHAPTER 19
A FILMY HALO CIRCLED the full moon, which floated a black sea of diamonds. The sight reminded her of Jack’s gift only twenty-four hours ago and the engraved words of love that were set just as permanent in her heart. Despite all, she could see the love in his eyes anytime he looked her way.
The soft blue glow of the pool almost rivaled the beauty of the moon especially since the water was surrounded by the sheen of glow stones. Emitting the light they had soaked in all day, they lined the tile patterns. The previous night when seeing them through the kitchen window, she had expressed her awe and Jack with much enthusiasm had explained the solar stones.
Kicking off her flip-flops, she approached the guitar neck, descended the incline, and sat with her knees pulled up in the inch or two of water.
Her thoughts contorted like the surface reflections, her future seeming as mysterious as the shimmering shadows. There was no doubt this could be her dream house, her dream life with the man she loved. Not so dreamy was all that she was beginning to see that came with him.
The crazy hours. The active life. A loud hoot of laughter sounded over the pounding music as if to enforce this point. The moody and presumptuous rock star.
Scooting up enough so that laying back would leave her head out of the wat
er, she reclined. After staring at the stars a bit, she closed her eyes.
The displacement of water, rippling the ends of her floating hair, was her cue that she was no longer alone. Her lids fluttered open seeing the light behind her blocked by a shadow. Jack eased down, and without touching her, lay back in the same manner.
He was the first to break the silence, a minute, or so into it. “All good?”
The satellites among the stars winked and blinked, and she let a couple of breaths expel. “Sure.”
“It just seems like you’ve been mad at me all day.”
Now she did turn her head to study his profile. “Me? Mad at you?” Emphasizing the pronouns, she looked back to the sky when his head turned to her.
The feel of his gaze roving her face was a physical thing, but the humiliation of last night kept her from meeting his speculative eyes.
“I’m not the one mad, if that’s what you are saying.” His words were quiet, unsure.
“Aren’t you?”
“Why would I be?”
“I don’t know!” Emotion clogged her throat, and for a split second, she debated running from what had become a confrontation. Maybe Jack was right. Maybe she always ran when she could.
Damming up her feelings, she struggled to keep her voice from wavering. “It is not fair for you to hold the same shit against me that you have done.”
“Meaning?”
“It’s true that I was kind of a slut. But I tried not to let it touch Tristan in any way. I thought–I mean–I know he looked forward to spending the night at Liv’s.” Stealing a quick sidelong glance, she pushed on reluctantly spilling her past. “They would plan for two weeks the movies they were going to watch and what they were going to eat. I never thought he wondered where I was.”
A sad sigh left her lips and just as quickly, the confused simmer of emotions boiled over. “But damn it Jack, I was getting mine off a couple of times a month. You can’t tell me you weren’t every damn night!”
“So you are thinking I’m pissed about what Tristan said last night?”
“Obviously you are.”
“I don’t like thinking about it. Hell, I can’t stand thinking about it–”
“You know, I was kind of wild in college, but I never had continuous random hookups until after you. That day with you, I had never had that connection before. And, I made the mistake of thinking it was out there for me again. That fate was not so fucked up to make just ONE freaking man THAT guy.” The years of loneliness converged into this moment as she softly spoke, “I wanted that again, and thought that all I had to do was...”
“Was what?”
“Was keep looking until I found him.”
“Why? When you already found him?”
“You know why.”
“I don’t Mariss...”
Now, finally, she looked at him, the anger, and angst in her heart softening with his candor. “I think that is one of the things I love about you. You are from a different world and don’t even know it.”
“Not really.”
“Mmh.” She let it go.
Behind them, from the patio, the music thumped and voices rang out. Jack’s hand moved across the space between them to settle on her thigh. Not the least bit remorseful, his husky words seemed saturated with pride. “So I ruined you, huh?”
The cool night air could not keep the heat from flaming her face. Leave it to Jack to make an issue of anything sexual. “Yeah, I guess you did.”
“You guess? Maybe we should settle this right now,” he teased rolling to his side and trailing his fingers to naughty places.
With an exasperated sound, she pushed up and then stood walking the several steps until she was deep enough to submerge into the tepid water. Without breaking the surface, she swam to the island and was not surprised when Jack surfaced next to her.
His kiss was wild and sweet, and her arms rose to rest on his shoulders, hanging on him as she often did when her knees went weak. Her feelings were still mixed, and when she could think enough to remember why, she twisted some away from the tongue that so pleasingly scorched her ear.
“If you weren’t mad then why wouldn’t you–” Her words paused before she brokenly beseeched, “fuck me last night?”
Deliberately, she used the dirtier words to entice him because although she was still angry about the previous night, she still wanted him tonight.
Jack pushed her away enough to stare down into her face. “I told you last night!”
“Exactly. You said because of all the...” Trailing off as she suddenly gleaned the misunderstanding, she stepped back to him, dropping her head onto his shoulder. “I feel like an idiot.”
Just hours before that fight, she had been the one to turn down a quickie in the shower, and when confessing why, she had seen the guilt in his eyes. Guilt that had brought a vow from him to stay away from her until she recovered.
“I thought...,” she whispered against his skin.
“Thought what?” Gently, he probed as he held her tight.
“You know. What I just said. I thought you were mad because of what Tristan said.”
“I’m so sorry you thought that...” Like bands, his arms tightly and protectively encircled. “Damn Mariss. I’m sorry. You don’t know how hard it was to try and convince you to go to sleep... And then when you ran out, I knew if I called you back or came to you, I would—I would be all over you.”
“I wasn’t hurting last night.”
“You had been drinking.”
“Yeah...”
“So how are you feeling tonight...?”
“Much better...”
“Maybe I should verify that. After all, you’ve had a couple of drinks...”
His head disappeared beneath the surface. When he came back up, she was gasping. Rewarding her with one of his smirks, he went back down.
A wary eye remained on their guests but no one turned their heads while she was getting head. With his first dunk, Jack had teased over her swimsuit and now he wasted no time hooking one finger and dragging the thin strip aside. His hair floated around this fiery kiss, tickling her thighs and stomach as his tongue branded her.
He came up for air and leaned his forehead on hers.
“Mariss?”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t always think the worst of me...”
“I don’t. I asked...and you said...and I just misunderstood.”
“I’m sorry...” He kissed the apology from his mouth to hers as he dipped a hand inside the front of the swimsuit. “I thought I was looking out for you...”
“And this morning?”
“I was giving you something to think about in the shower.”
“What made you so sure I was going to take a shower?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because I took a long one myself. Did you?”
Raggedly, she made the truthful admission while he made her crazy with his lips on her neck and the tease of his hands. Since his body was blocking her from the portico, she didn’t protest at first, too caught up to care about anything outside their make-out session.
He discovered that her swimsuit unhooked from the shoulders. Peeling it down, he played with the unveiled curves. When he knelt enough to put his mouth to them, she snapped back to reality and looked over his head to the party beyond.
A nip. A tongue lash. A suck. His knee moved up keeping warm that part of her body still throbbing from this same treatment. Jack stood up enough to rub another kiss to her lips and to push the fabric to her waist. When she felt the drag of it over her hips, she protested.
“Seriously? With everyone just right there?”
Was this the rock star life? Yet, she knew the answer. No one had taken notice yet.
Jack’s answer was a simple rock star answer. Barely raising his lips from hers, he raised his voice, and it carried over his shoulder across the water.
“Party’s over! Bye!”
His tongue reunited with hers as if the time
apart to say those few words had been an eternity. Tilting her head, she watched in astonishment as the patio emptied in less than three minutes. Reassuringly, she sought out Tristan’s sleeping form on the couch before taking a dip under the water herself.
It was strange to turn him on in all of the ways he loved but not be able to hear a response. Combined was the freaked half fearful feeling to be in this position completely at anyone’s mercy, even a lover’s.
Sucking air into her burning lungs, she surfaced whispering against his wet skin, “Can’t hold my breath as long as you...”
He hopped up onto the sunning island bringing her with him, and when he occupied himself stripping her out of the swimsuit, she looked nervously to the house again.
“What about Dax?”
“Don’t worry about Dax. He’s as good as gone.”
The wet fabric made a splash in the inch of water beside them. Her eyes fell to the dark shadow of his trunks in the deeper water where they had been standing.
Finally, she took him in, all wet and sexy beneath her.
Every breath and groan echoed over the water. She alternated her gaze from the stars in heaven to the rock star that was currently her heaven.
At one point, a shadowy female figure at the glass doors caught her eye. By the time her head swung that way, it was retreating. Too caught up in Jack to care, she dropped her eyes back to his face enjoying the expressions passing over his features.
Impatient with waiting, his talented fingers moved between them to play and then slid around to grip her waist when her body answered with a spasm around him. Again, her gaze fell from the sky to his fine face; her favorite pastime was watching him at this very moment.
His rose one last time, and his hands locked her to him. She reveled in familiar visuals, the grit of his teeth as he pushed out a breath, then the slight slack of his jaw as he sucked it back in and collapsed.
Her fingers listlessly played in the water as, eyes closed, she rested quietly and comfortably on him. After several minutes, when his heartbeats and breathing began to even, she raised her chin to see his eyes closed and asked, “What are you doing?”