A Lush Betrayal (11 page)

It’s not rational. He’s not my boyfriend—not anything to me. We’re barely even friends, and he’s nothing but bad news. Anyone can see that. I have no business worrying and wondering about who he’s screwing or when or where. The fact that he’s a rock star makes the whole thing even more asinine. He’s got 24/7 access to as many women as he could ever want. If I have any sense at all, I’ll make damn sure I’m not one of them.

Aaargh!
I scream out loud. I’ve got to get these revolving thoughts out of my head. I go to the bathroom and grab my swimsuit. I’ll just do laps until I can’t think anymore.

I’
VE BEEN
in the pool nearly half an hour. At this time of night, I’m the only one up here and I’m glad for that. The water is soothing, and my mind isn’t racing anymore. I’m settling into thoughts about the photo project and the next few tour stops. What pictures I need to get, what angles for concert shots might work best. I’m floating on my back, looking up at the Los Angeles sky, which is rife with airplanes and helicopters, satellite towers and spotlights. It’s full of lights, but none of them are stars, as the manmade types have shoved nature’s jewels to the background.

“Hey,” a quiet voice says from the edge of the pool. I yelp in surprise and move upright, ready to swim like hell to escape whatever psycho-killer has caught me in the pool at two a.m.

But when I look at the darkened side of the pool deck, I see Joss squatting down, watching me.

“Sorry.” He chuckles. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I catch my breath, because I was startled, not because he’s wearing a pair of loose, long swim trunks on his narrow hips and no shirt.

“It’s okay. What are you doing here? Isn’t there a party in your honor you’re supposed to be at?”

He sits down and puts his legs in the water like he did the other night when we were here together. The glow from the pool lights shine up on him, putting part of his face and torso in shadows. But I can see the tattoos snaking around his upper arms and down one side of his chest. They swirl and angle, hugging the curves of his pecs and biceps.

“The best part of the party left. I lost interest after that.”

I have a hard time not smiling at that.
Women
, I remind myself.
Tons of them
. And he’s a rock star.

“Huh. Seemed like there were plenty of very, shall we say,
enthusiastic
reasons to stay,” I respond.

He watches me for a minute. Then he gives a sharp nod of his head as if he’s just heard something. Understood something new.

“I assume you’re talking about the groupies?” he asks quietly.

I shrug, which isn’t so easy while treading water. I finally swim over to the steps in the corner of the pool and sit, covered in water up to my waist. I lean back against the wall of the pool. I’m around the corner from Joss now, and I see him purse his lips. Then he stands up, walks over to the side I’m on, and sits down a few feet from me.

“Mel?”

“Yeah?” I answer, trying to seem casual and failing miserably.

“What happened tonight?”

I sigh. This is humiliating. I don’t want to have to tell Joss Jamison that I’m such a child I didn’t really understand what the rock and roll lifestyle meant and that, when I finally got it, I was disgusted. I really didn’t want to be Little D anymore, but this will seal it. It’s no wonder my sister thought I needed to share a suite with her.

“It doesn’t matter, Joss. I don’t want to talk about it.”

He scoots closer until he can reach out with his foot and rub it along the top of my thigh.

His voice is low and sends little shivers down my spine. “It does matter. I thought we were having a great time and then you ran off. I want to know if someone did something to upset you. Even if that someone was me. I’ll kick my own ass if necessary.”

I giggle at that and finally look him in the eye. He seems so concerned. I can’t lie to him.

“I think maybe I wasn’t fully prepared for the rock life is all.”

“Yeah? Tammy hadn’t filled you in on the details, huh?” He sounds sympathetic. God, I want to crawl in a hole and never come out.

“Tammy treats me like I’m a child. And I guess after the way I acted tonight, it’s no wonder,” I say bitterly.

He scoots closer again. “Mel,” he says as he puts his fingers under my chin and tilts my face up so I’m forced to look him in the eye. “Do you think it wasn’t a shock for the rest of us the first time we went to a party with one of the bands we were opening for? I mean, I can tell you which band it was and what city the concert was in and even the year. And we talked about it for a solid month afterwards. It was fucking unbelievable. There was coke laid out all over the coffee tables and strippers giving lap dances for free. Walking around topless like it was the most natural thing in the world,” —he pauses momentarily— “which I guess in a certain way it is.” Then he laughs, and I can’t help but join him.

“The point is,” he continues, “it takes getting used to for everyone. And you need to know that everyone handles this—the fame and the groupies and the things that are offered—differently.” He pauses again. “I assume you got an eyeful of Mike tonight?”

“Um, yeah,” I answer, sticking my tongue out in a gagging motion.

Joss cracks up. “You’re not the first to have that reaction. And that’s him. He was that way before we ever got famous. He just didn’t have nearly as much luck with it. But you know Walsh has never strayed from your sister. I swear it. Never.”

I smile at the thought of my poor, whipped almost brother-in-law. “Given that, to the best of my knowledge, he’s still walking around with both balls, I believe you.”

Joss grimaces. I shrug. He knows it’s true.

Then I ask the question that’s haunted me all night. It flies out of my mouth unbidden.

“And what about Joss Jamison? How does he handle the fame and the groupies and
things
that are offered?”

He starts playing with my wet hair, running it through his fingers as he sits above me on the edge of the pool wall.

“I won’t lie, Mel. Joss Jamison had himself a good time at first. Maybe not quite as good of a time as Mike, but I wasn’t immune to the offers.”

I feel my heart plummet. It’s exactly what I feared. My eyes sting and I swallow to get myself under control.
Stupid, stupid, Mel. He’s nothing to you. There’s no reason you should feel like this.

“But,” he goes on, “the novelty wore off pretty fast, and Joss Jamison found that he likes to know the women he goes to bed with and prefers beer and scotch to coke and ecstasy.”

I nod and feel my breath rush out in relief.

“I’m no saint, Mel, but I’m not collecting women in every city, and if I’m seeing someone, I’m seeing her and no one else.”

This is getting too close, too intense. I shouldn’t have started down this road with him. I don’t want to imagine a world where I’d be the woman Joss Jamison is “seeing.” It would not end well, and I don’t want to be that girl yet again. The stupid one. The one everyone sees and says, “How could she not have known?”

“You don’t have to tell me all this, Joss. I’m sorry I pried. It’s none of my business.”

“It is if I want it to be,” he says as his hand moves from my hair to the nape of my neck, where he rubs little circles on my skin. I fight the urge to throw my head back and moan. His hands are magic. “I like you, Mel, and I hope you’ll like me too eventually. I thought we were getting along well until tonight. If there’s something I can say or do to help you feel comfortable with me, tell me what that is. The last thing I want is you getting the wrong impressions and losing respect for me.”

I look up at him, so surprised by how genuine he sounds.

“Why? Why do you care what I think? You hardly know me and I’m no one important. Are you worried I’ll go to the press or something?”

He scoffs. “Hell no. I mean, if you want to, go for it. I don’t give a shit what the press says about me. But I
do
know you, and that’s not what you’re about. I care about what you think because I care about
you
. I know that sounds like a line, but there’s something about you. I feel freer with you than I have in a long time. You’re like this bright spot in my day. I don’t want you to run away from me because you think I’m a douchebag like Mike.”

I can’t help but smile up at him. “You could never be as douchey as Mike. I don’t think anyone could ever be as douchey as Mike.”

He laughs again and then his hand moves from my neck to the back of my head. He keeps my face tilted up toward him as he leans down slowly, and I realize that he’s going to kiss me. My heart pounds so rapidly I think it’s going to explode right out of my chest. His breath brushes across my face and I can smell the scotch he prefers. Then I look directly into his eyes, and we both freeze, caught in the realization that what happens next may very well change the course of our lives. I know he sees it too. His pupils dilate, and he makes this soft noise in the back of his throat.

Then his lips are on mine and it’s like the entire fabric of the universe has been torn asunder. Stars are shooting, clouds are billowing, wind is swirling, water is falling, the planets are aligning and realigning.

He kisses my top lip gently, then my bottom one, and finally his tongue slips along them both. My own tongue slides out to meet his. His lips press more firmly against mine and he enters my mouth, all dark velvet. My heart is wrenched from its moorings, and the pain is so intense I nearly cry out. But instead, I grab his shoulders in a futile effort to ground myself somehow, because I think I was just set loose into the stratosphere and I’m terrified. This is beyond my wildest imaginings, and I don’t know how I’ll ever live in the normal world again.

He pulls away for a minute and runs his lips across my forehead. “You are something special, Mel,” he says in a voice that is so rough it almost doesn’t sound human. It’s too fast, too much, just
too
. He slips into the water beside me and clutches me to him. I rest my head against his shoulder, simply breathing in the scent of him and chlorine and listening to his heart thudding under my ear, wondering what the hell we’re supposed to do now.

Joss

L
IKE
I told Mel, I’ve had my share of fun, living like the goddamn rock star I am. But I have never, ever felt anything like the sensations that course through me when I press my lips to hers. I know almost instantly—this is it—I’m done. This woman will either be my salvation or the death of me. There is no question. I should have known better than to risk another DiLorenzo female, but it’s too late now. I’ve lost control now that I’ve touched her. There’s no going back, and she is the most spectacular thing I’ve ever experienced.

It’s so far beyond simple sexual attraction. I’ve got the world’s worst hard-on, but it’s what she’s doing to my gut and my chest and my head that’s going to kill me. When her hands fly up to my shoulders and cling to me, I feel as though I’ve become her anchor, the only thing holding her to this earth. Without me, she’ll float away into a dimension beyond any I could ever reach. I’m not a religious guy, but she’s otherworldly, ethereal, more than this time and place. Is it fair for me to keep her here? Maybe she belongs elsewhere. And she sure as hell deserves better than me, but fuck it, I want her. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my twenty-seven years of life. And I just can’t let her go, even though I probably should.

She is pressed to my chest, breathing heavily, while I stroke her back and run my lips back and forth across her hair. Finally, I set her away from me enough that I can see her face. I gaze into those deep blue eyes and see fear and ecstasy and my own brilliant future. The future that didn’t exist until moments ago.

I dive in for another taste of her firm, smooth lips. She moans as I push my tongue inside of her, and I wish I could record that sound for a song. It would go fucking platinum.

Her gorgeous breasts are crushed against my chest, and I reach up and run a finger down under the edge of that tiny strip of fabric along the sides of her swimsuit. Her skin is like marble, smooth and cool from the water. But as she moves closer to me, I am painfully aware that the water is nowhere near cool enough to disguise the size and firmness of my dick. As much as I want to press that sucker against her as hard as I can, after the conversation we’ve just had, I’m thinking it’s not the best time. So I maneuver to keep my lower half out of the contact zone by kneeling on the stair below the one she’s sitting on, placing her knees on either side of my torso.

As I move my mouth back to hers, my hand slips up and down her side until I come to the curve underneath her breast. I softly rub my thumb along the fabric of her swimsuit, feeling the give of her breast and the way it fits perfectly in my hand. My fingers graze her nipple and she gasps. I can’t help but smile against her lips.

“You cold there, sweetheart?” I ask teasingly as her nipple pebbles up beneath my hand.

“You’re just cruel,” she answers as she wiggles closer to me, pressing her fullness into my hand. I never thought it was possible to come in a swimming pool while only touching a woman with my lips and one hand, but she’s about to prove me wrong if she doesn’t stop.