Lithium Waves: A Lithium Springs Novel

by Carmel Rhodes

  His fucking heart.

  Yeah, he was totally fucked.

  “It’s okay,” she panted, dabbing at the tears leaking from her eyes. “My parents named me James, after my grandfather. I was supposed to be a boy. They thought I was one, up until they handed me, vagina and all, to my mother in the delivery room. They were so shocked, they just went with it.”

  “James is hot. Napoleon makes it sound like I have a small dick.”

  “But you don’t,” Jamie breathed, running her tongue across her lips. The air between them went from playful to sexual, Napoleon and James long forgotten.

  “No, I don’t,” he whispered. Ryder wanted to kiss her. It was like she was taunting him, rubbing in the fact she kept that part of herself closed off.

  “Okay, kids,” Annette returned, her presence easing the tension, “one water and one Shirley Temple, extra cherries.”

  Jamie eyed his drink with amusement.

  “What?” he plucked a cherry from the top of the glass and popped it into his mouth without an ounce of shame. He was a grown man with hair on his balls, so what he liked Shirley Temples?

  “Nothing, it’s just, I haven’t had one of those since I was a little girl.”

  He stared at her, the look on his face said, I like Shirley Temples and I’ll still make you come like a freight train.

  Needless to say, Kitty Cat let it go.

  “You kids ready to order?”

  “I’m not that hungry,” Jamie shrugged, glancing over the menu. “I’ll just have the house salad.”

  “Sounds good—”

  “Oh, and maybe the bacon cheeseburger, and the chili cheese fries and,” Jamie looked up from the menu, “how’s the pie?”

  “Napoleon’s favorite. I’ll bring over a couple of slices,” Annette promised, chuckling to herself.

  If Ryder wasn’t already obsessed with this girl, her order would have solidified it. She was keeping him on his toes, that was for damn sure.

  “What?” Jamie asked, innocently.

  “Open your mouth,” he demanded plucking another cherry from his glass. Kitty Cat looked like she wanted to protest but obliged. He ran the cherry across her bottom lip, watching with hooded eyes as her tongue darted out to collect his offering. Juice dripped down her chin and he leaned in, licking up the mess, his tongue stopping just below her mouth.

  Jamie exhaled, her breath sweet, warm. “That tastes amazing.”

  And because Ryder was a fucking masochist, he asked, “What’s the deal with you and Sean?”

  Kitty Cat rolled her eyes, “Way to fuck up the moment, Napoleon.”

  “He touched you.”

  “We had sex, once, at Christmas, and now he spends half his time flirting with me and the other half hazing me,” she explained, switching her water for his Shirley Temple.

  Kitty Cat had a past. He’d assumed as much and he didn’t give a fuck about who she’d been with before, but the thought of her being with anyone now made Ryder’s blood boil.

  “And Grant?”

  Confusion twisted on Jamie’s face. “Your manager?”

  “Yes, you were flirting with him.” Ryder was acting like a jealous dick head. He knew it, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “I wasn’t flirting, it’s called being professional. You should try it instead of storming out of the room like a fucking child.”

  “I didn’t like it.”

  “I already told you—”

  “I know,” Ryder put his hands up in surrender, “you don’t do the boyfriend thing.”

  “I’m focused on my career.”

  “I get it, I do. The band eats up a lot of my free time. Most girls I meet can’t handle that, they get jealous and clingy. I told myself I was done with relationships, but I can’t just ignore this thing between us. It’s weird and inconvenient but it’s fucking real, so what are we going to do about it?” Ryder put his cards on the table, and he hoped like hell Jamie wasn’t about to knocked them back off.

  “Ignore it and hope it goes away?” she suggested. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to hear, but she wasn’t telling him to kick rocks either.

  “No, Kitty Cat, we can’t.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you,” Ryder stated simply, because he did. “I want to watch bad movies and go bowling or whatever people do on dates. I want you to tell me about your day, and I want to fuck you over and over again. I want to live inside that pretty little pussy of yours, Kitty Cat. ”

  “Sounds an awful lot like a relationship to me.”

  “We don’t have to call it anything. We can go at your speed.”

  Jamie inhaled and exhaled, swiping a finger across her bottom lip.

  “I know you’re freaking out, but don’t,” he assured her. “I’m not asking you to marry me or anything. I just want to get to know you better.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Just say yes.” Ryder pinned her greens with his hazels and she melted under his gaze. Jamie had big balls and her soul burned bright red, but with Ryder she was soft and pink.

  Wrinkling her nose, the corners of Jamie’s mouth turned down into a frown. “I’m not your girlfriend, and I can’t promise to be any good at anything aside from the sex stuff but… I’m not fucking anyone else at the moment, so why not?”

  Ryder grinned. “That was the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  “Kiss my ass,” Jamie rolled her eyes, taking a sip of his Shirley Temple.

  “I plan to do more than kiss it.”

  Ryder’s hand flexed around the soft, leather covering of the steering wheel. “This is a great fucking car,” he said pulling the Rover onto his street.

  “Thanks. It was a graduation gift,” Kitty Cat muttered. She watched, enchanted, as a group of school kids with oversized bookbags ran down the sidewalk.

  “Feels like I’m cheating on my Harley.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys,” she groaned, shooting him a sideways glance.

  “One of what guys?”

  “A gearhead.” She spit the words out as if they were unwelcome in her mouth. Flashes of Jamie kneeling in front of him flooded Ryder’s brain and he wondered, if she would spit him out too or would she swallow?

  Shaking off the x-rated thoughts, he answered her question. “No, that would be Javi. I just really fucking love my bike.”

  Jamie’s attention shifted back to the children. Her eyes shined with an emotion Ryder hadn’t seen on her beautiful face. It felt intimate, real, like another flash of the authentic Jamie.

  “You live here?” she asked looking up at the blue house. It was the standard reaction when people found out where they lived. Lithium Springs moved into the single-family home, in the modest, working-class neighborhood when they decided to get serious about their art. When they weren’t working, or getting stoned, they were making music.

  “Yeah, for a little over a year now.” Ryder shrugged, killing the engine.

  “I was expecting something a little more,” Jamie looked towards the sky, searching for the right word, “murdery.”

  “Murdery?” He laughed. Ryder thought he heard everything about their living situation, including the theories that they were in some sort of gay, polyamorous relationship, but this was the first time he’d heard the term, murdery.

  Opening the passenger’s side door, Jamie grinned, “Yes, murdery, but this is better.”

  Grabbing the leftover food from the backseat, Ryder led Kitty Cat up the steps and into the house. They were greeted by the omnipresent haze of weed smoke and the sound of his band mates arguing over whether Oregon had what it took to make it to the Final Four.

  Neil Young’s face stared back at them from the framed poster hanging in the entryway.

  There was a coat rack in the corner, though they never actually used it to hang coats, and an old Welcome mat that was so worn it simply read come.

  “Smells loud in here,” Jamie said wrinkling her nose.<
br />
  “You’ll get used to it.” If Ryder had his way, she’d never fucking leave again. “I’m going to take the food to the kitchen. My room’s up the stairs, first door on the left.”

  Jamie chewed on her finger as her eyes dipped down his body. Lust charged the space between them. Sex was the only language Jamie understood, and Ryder fully intended to drive his point home.

  “Is that you Ry?” CT yelled from the living room.

  Ryder groaned. He’d hoped they would be able to sneak past his roommates. “No, it’s Santa Clause. Who the fuck else would it be?”

  “Why so serious? Did your girl blow you off again?” Javi asked.

  Jamie answered for him. “No, she didn’t. At least not yet,” she added with a wink.

  It was quiet for a beat, the silence quickly followed by his high as fuck roommates running out into the entryway. “Kitty Cat,” Javi panted wrapping her into a bear hug. “Thank God! He’s been a real bitch since you ditched him.”

  Jamie laughed and it was like a shot of adrenaline right into Ryder’s veins. The sound was loud, obnoxious and devoid of any fucks. Some men would have been bothered by Javi letting that little admission slip, but not Ryder. He wasn’t a hyper masculine jerk, and he wanted Kitty Cat to know he was serious. He didn’t want to play games, not with her.

  “Where did you guys go?” CT asked.

  Ry held up the bag of leftovers. “To the diner.” Ryder and CT locked eyes. Shock was written all over the drummer’s face. Ryder had one rule, no bitches in the sanctuary. He may have been a lovesick douche ninety-nine percent of the time, but he never brought girls to the diner. He went there to celebrate, to get away, to recharge. The fact that he took Jamie there after spending a total of six hours with her was out of character, at best. At worst, he was pussy whipped. In his defense, it was a pretty pussy.

  “You didn’t bring us anything?” Javi pouted, oblivious to the silent conversation going on over his head.

  “It’s okay, Son,” CT said patting Javi on the back, “we can order pizza.”

  Javi grinned a toothy grin. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Ryder rolled his eyes at his friends. They were the only family he had outside of his mother. They were more like brothers, really. Ryder was the sensitive one, CT was the impulsive one, and Javi was the funny one.

  “The game is about to start. You guys want to watch or do you have plans?” Javi wiggled his brows suggestively.

  “We have plans.”

  “What game?”

  Ryder arched his brow at Jamie. All he wanted was to be inside her, but apparently, she had other ideas. “Kitty Cat,” he began.

  “Chill out man,” Javi threw his arm over her shoulder as he steered Jamie towards the living room. “We know where she works now.”

  Ryder sighed, stomping his way to the kitchen. Everything with Jamie was so damn hot and cold. She wanted him, then she didn’t, then she did again. She was driving him insane.

  “What’s up with you and this girl?” CT asked, following him to the kitchen.

  “What do you mean?” Ryder put the food in the fridge. He knew what the fuck CT meant, but he hoped he would at least wait to start the interrogation until half-time.

  “Don’t play dumb asshole. You falling in love with a girl five minutes after meeting her is nothing new, but taking her to the diner? That’s beyond, dude.”

  Ryder dropped his palms onto the counter, leaning on it for support. The fading yellow walls of the kitchen were closing in on him. He opened his mouth to make up an excuse, but only truth came. “She’s different.”

  CT’s eyes darted to the ceiling, a groan emanated from his throat. “You said that about Misha, and Amber, and who was that girl you met in Portland, Brit, or Bree, Beth?”

  “Bianca,” Ryder huffed, “and it’s not like that.”

  “Right,” CT chuckled. He opened the fridge and swiped the pie out of the bag.

  Ryder glared at him.

  Picking the slice of pie up with his hands, CT shrugged. “Munchies, bro.”

  Jamie inhaled, allowing the smoke to fill her lungs and set her at ease. After a week of berating herself for the incident, then the entire morning stressing over having to do the interview, she resolved to let whatever was happening between her and Ryder happen. While she had no illusions about how this thing would end, she was living in the moment, and fighting it was only adding unnecessary anxiety.

  The couch shifted next to her, and she opened her eyes in time to see Ryder lift her legs across his lap. “Hi,” he breathed, kissing her nose sweetly. The golden flecks in his eyes shined with an emotion that tied her insides in knots.

  “Hi,” she replied, bringing her tattooed finger to her lip. Her tell. Jamie could deny her attraction to him until she was blue in the face, but her words meant nothing if her body wouldn’t listen.

  Ryder’s scent invaded her nostrils, it was clean and manly, and the feel of his hand tracing circles on her thighs made her quiver with anticipation. Jamie craved his touch, and she hated herself for it. She wasn’t this girl, this needy person who snuggled on the couch, stealing glances at her beau. She was James fucking Manning, a no-nonsense, ball buster who didn’t need anyone.

  So why did she need him?

  “Do we really have to watch this game?” he asked, pulling her finger from her mouth, bringing it to his. He kissed it once, then again, and then a third time. She could see the longing in his eyes. He wanted to kiss her, he was practically begging for it, but that was one line Jamie wasn’t ready to cross. Her body was fair game, but she kept her heart was kept under lock.

  Basketball wasn’t Jamie’s thing, she couldn’t care less about Oregon State, and the only madness she recognized in March was Daylight Savings Time, because having to wake up an hour earlier was her personal definition of insanity. Even so, she was stalling. Sex she could handle. Meaningless sex was an art she’d mastered. It was the after that frightened her.

  Ryder was unlike any other man she’d been with. He didn’t pretend and he wasn’t afraid to show affection; not in front of his friends, not even in front of his mother. Jamie signed up for a casual fling, but the entire day reeked of monogamy. She was starting to feel like a “g-word,” and that was a truth she couldn’t ignore. She contemplated running again, but Ryder was persistent in his pursuit of her. He’d probably just show up at the station and cause another scene in the parking lot. Running was pointless, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t want to.

  The game started, and the four of them settled into a comfortable silence, punctuated by the occasional profanity thrown at the screen. Jamie stayed firmly rooted at Ryder’s side, her legs intertwined with his. His eyes were focused on the screen, but his hands continued to explore her body, rubbing, and caressing her through her business casual attire. Every touch, every stolen kiss to her temple, behind her ear, her neck, combined to turn her into a quivering mess.

  “Are you okay?” Ryder asked, whispering on her neck. His warm breath on her throat did things to her body she didn’t even know was possible. He regarded her for a minute, then smiled devilishly. He knew the effect he was having on her and the bastard was enjoying it.

  “I think I’m ready to go upstairs now,” Jamie purred, turning so she could look him in the eye. Her unspoken message, fuck me, please.

  “Is that so?” His gaze focused in on her lips. Ryder laced one of his hands in her hair, pulling her mouth to his slowly. The intention was clear in his eyes, “Still not on the lips?” he asked, rubbing his nose to hers.

  Jamie didn’t answer right away, she also didn’t turn her head. She trusted him not to force her. She trusted that he would respect her boundaries, but the fucked-up thing was she wished he wouldn’t. It would make it easier to resist him in the end, because even with all Jamie’s trust in Ryder, she couldn’t trust herself.

  “Still not on the lips,” she breathed.

  “Hey lovebirds,” CT said, pulling them from the moment. “What
do you want on your pizza?”

  It was half-time.

  Ryder looked at Jamie expectantly, waiting for her to choose. Inside she was screaming, who gives a shit about pizza, just fuck me, but went with, “It’s up to you, I’m still kind of full from the diner,” instead.

  Ryder nodded, and turned to his friend, “Hawaiian then.”

  “On second thought,” she cringed, “maybe I better choose. Pineapple doesn’t belong on pizza. It’s disgusting, I’m thoroughly disgusted. I can’t believe I let you have sex with me.”

  “I told you, dude, pineapple isn’t a real pizza topping,” Javi said.

  “I’ve seen you eat baked beans straight from a can, motherfucker. You can’t judge me for liking pineapple pizza. And you,” Ryder growled turning his attention back to Jamie, “if I remember correctly you begged me to let you come.”

  “Only after you begged me to let you fuck me.”

  “Ooohhh,” CT and Javi jeered, simultaneously.

  “And now you call me sex god,” the smug bastard countered.

  “Ooohhh.” The guys fell over themselves with laughter.

  Being in their little house was odd, but what was worse was how comfortable Jamie felt there. Like she belonged. Jamie never felt like she belonged anywhere, but amazingly, she fit right in with the band of gorgeous misfits.

  It was an illusion of course, a fantasy she indulged. The guys were only nice to her because of Ryder and he was only nice because, well, she wasn’t sure what he wanted yet, but Jamie decided to cross that bridge when she came to it. She’d be the one standing on the other side with a match, watching it burn.

  Jamie’s eyes widened, “That was… I didn’t…” she stammered.

  “I…I…I,” Ryder teased pulling her back on his lap, turning her body so she was straddling him. He palmed her ass, daring her to keep going.

  Jamie rubbed her finger against her lip, “Whatever, pineapple pizza is still trash.”

  “I work at an Italian restaurant, and we put pineapples on pizzas all the time.”

  “That’s not an Italian thing. I bet some stoner came up with it,” CT argued, and Jamie nodded her agreement. No one seemed to care that she was practically riding, Ryder, so she went with it.