Forever Red (26 page)

“You’re not falling asleep, are you, old man?” The words – and the hands trying to shove me out of the way – made my eyes fly open. I just stared, not sure what I had missed. Lia only smirked. “We’re going to dance,” she finally offered.

“Who is?” I felt the scowl wrinkle my forehead, but I didn’t care.

She tipped her head a little, rolling her eyes. “Molly and me.”

I slid out of the booth. “We’ll come, too,” I offered as I stood to let her pass.

She stopped, glancing at the dance floor. “You usually dance at these parties?”

I followed her eyes, cringing at the mostly female crowd swaying together. Fuck no. I usually sat in the private section, just like now, working on a beer and talking to Mike or Finn until Nikki said we could leave. I turned back to Red. “Sometimes.”

She chuckled knowingly and patted my chest. “We’ll be back in a little bit.” She grabbed Molly’s hand and sent me a quick wink before rushing across the floor and down the steps.

I sat back down angrily and tried to watch for her in the mass of people. Mike tried to draw me into a conversation, but after a few minutes, he gave up and transitioned into work mode, glancing around the club and watching for problems. Three songs. Then five. After the seventh started – a Top 40 remix of one of mine – I decided that I was sick of wasting time and I was going to find her as soon as it was over.

I didn’t have to go anywhere. As soon as I stood up, I saw them talking to the bouncer at the bottom of the stairs. Arguing, actually. Molly looked like she was getting extremely pissed, yelling and pointing at me. Before I could get to him, Noah and Rebel were there, and after realizing who they were, the bouncer let everyone up. Seconds later, four irritated women invaded my booth.

“He wasn’t going to let us come up!” Molly snapped unnecessarily, sliding all the way around the seat so that she ended up next to me. Nina and Cora moved in behind her, Reb next to them followed by Courtney. “He called us groupies!”

Mike looked at me, looked at the small open space, and then glanced at Noah and Lia, who were standing at the end of the table, before he shrugged and squeezed into the tiny spot. Courtney smiled up at him and put her head on his shoulder. That wasn’t what surprised me; women came on to him all the time. It was the fact that he lifted an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, rubbing her back in a way that was way too fucking familiar. The hair on the back of my neck rose.

I opened my mouth to ask what in the fuck I was missing when Noah distracted me. He stepped behind Lia, wrapping his arms around her belly, and pulling her into him. “Someone turned thirty ten minutes ago.” He tipped his head down to look into her face. “I guess you’re too old for me to spank, huh?”

He’d said the words just as the song died down, letting everyone at the table hear it. My jaw clenched, hands fisting. There were lots of chuckles and some snide remarks, but it was only Cora’s I heard loud and clear.

“Oh, honey! CeCe’s never too old to spank! Seriously, she loves that shit. It’d be the best birthday present she got!”

My eyes shot from my brother’s hands to Lia’s face. Her friends were clearly drunk, and making fools out of themselves, but the look on her face told me that her friend had given too much information away. The familiar scarlet of embarrassment crept up her neck and flooded her cheeks and her entire body tensed as she glared at Cora.

My bastard of a little brother laughed, his arms tightening around her as his eyes met mine. “That so, Lia? The good girl I used to have a crush on grew up to be the naughty girl needing to be spanked. Never saw that coming.”

If Lia hadn’t been standing directly in front of him, I would have knocked Noah out cold. Then he could talk about shit he never saw coming. Little fucker.

I was next to him and prying her from his arms before I realized what I was doing. “Stealing the birthday girl,” was all I said before I tangled my fingers with her and pulled her to the railing that let us look over the rest of the bar. Turning her to face me, I cupped her chin. “Happy birthday, Red.” I lost myself in her eyes, her smile, her scent, dying to kiss her. I was beyond fucked.

I swallowed, breaking eye contact. Trying to distract myself and lighten the mood, I asked, “What do you want this year? For your birthday.”

She looked down at our feet before looking up at me. Then, she moved her tongue quickly along her lips before reaching a hand up and tucking her auburn hair behind her ear. She was nervous; I could feel the fear coming off her. I wasn’t going to like what she said.

“You.” A quick step brought her chest flush with mine and she rose on her toes, putting her mouth next to my ear. “I want you.”

I gripped her upper arms, keeping her on her toes, and pushed her back slightly so I could see her face. She nodded as if to assure me she really had just said it. I was instantly rock hard, my cock straining against the zipper of my jeans.

I needed to get her out of there, to get her somewhere we could be alone, and I needed to do it now. I dropped her arms, grabbing her hand again and headed for the stairs, hauling her behind me. Mike caught my look and nodded as we passed the table, yanking his phone out of his pocket. Sam was waiting for us before we reached the main floor. I pulled Lia close, tucking her into my side as Sam cleared a path for us. The car was waiting as soon as we stepped out the door.

“Take us home,” was the only thing I managed to grind out before I slammed the door in Sam’s face.

Lia was on her knees on the seat, facing me, holding up a finger and looking terrified. Fingernails cut into my palm as I curled my hands, sure she was going to turn me away, tell me this was a mistake. She shook her head, as if unsure what to do.

“I need to get this out.” She tucked another strand of hair behind her ear, dragging her teeth over the bottom lip. “I’ve had a lot to drink and I’m probably too drunk to make this decision, but fuck it.”

Each streetlight we passed under lit up the car just enough for me to see the anxiety on her face. “I’ve thought about you millions of times. I think about you all the time. I didn’t think I’d ever have this chance and I need to tell you I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “So fucking sorry!”

I opened my mouth to stop her, to tell her I didn’t give a shit because right then, I couldn’t remember what she’d done or why I was supposed to be mad, but she kept talking.

“I know that you can’t possibly still love me, and I know that whatever this is”—she moved her hand between the two of us—“isn’t what it was.” She swallowed audibly. “One night. Just forget who we are, Nate. For one night. Love me. Love me the way Neil loved me.”

Her voice was pleading as if she’d start to cry if I said no and I understood exactly how much pain she was in. She might be someone completely different now, I might be someone completely different, but what Lia needed was things to be the way they once were, even if just for a few hours.

No one believed me when I said that Red had ripped a piece of my soul out when she left. Everyone said I’d forget her, that it was puppy love, and that it was time to move on. So I dated other women. Fucked hundreds more. Nothing helped, nothing made the pain go away. There had been so many times over the last decade that I’d been lost, lonely, and only wanted her. So I fucking understood.

I’d give her one night. It would never be enough, not for either of us, but I’d give her the best goddamn night of her life. This time, when she left, I’d be prepared.

The shots with Molly had been a dumb idea. Liquid courage my ass. I’d had too much to drink, and even though I felt like I could form thoughts perfectly fine, I wasn’t vocalizing them like I should.
Love me?
Shit. I’d meant to say fuck me.

I gripped the back of the seat as the car made a sharp turn and prayed to God that I wouldn’t fall on my face. Or throw up on the beautiful man in front of me. The beautiful man that was looking at me in a way I couldn’t read, either processing the ton of crap I’d just spewed or trying to figure out the best way to dispose of the psycho stalker I’d just become.

“Come here.”

I didn’t move, unsure of where he wanted me to go. Neil/Nate – hell, I was just going to think of him as Kelly because it was easier – frowned when I didn’t move.

“Lia, come here.”

I moved one knee toward him, sliding the rest of me along the seat between us. I’d only made it partway when strong arms reached out and grabbed me, hauling me into his lap. I struggled against him, trying to sit up and straddle him, but he didn’t let me move. One hand slid to my cheek, cupping it while his thumb moved back and forth on my cheek.

I could only stare. The pictures in the magazines that I’d gazed at for hours hadn’t done him justice. The blue-green eyes had seemed dull in comparison to what they’d been when we were younger, and now I knew they were still exactly as I had remembered them. They were the only thing that was the same.

His features were harder, almost rigid. There was a small scar on his upper cheek that I’d read was a souvenir from a bar fight a few years ago. There was another marring his beautiful lips, probably from another one of his infamous brawls. His chin and jaw line was covered with a scruff that made him look wild. And then there were the piercings. How many of those did he have?

I swallowed, glancing down at the arms that were holding me. The ink I’d teased him about earlier decorated almost every inch of skin that I could see. I wondered how much more covered the parts that I couldn’t see. The boy I’d loved had talked about getting a tattoo one day, but he’d meant one or two. I couldn’t see that boy ever having anything pierced. Body art suited him, though. And it was incredibly hot.

His eyes watched me as he moved his thumb over my bottom lip. He didn’t move, didn’t attempt to kiss me, just kept his eyes glued to mine. And I sat there, doing the same. The ride stretched for eternity. And it flew by.

When the driver pulled into the gated community where Kelly’s house was, my heart started to pound. He still hadn’t answered me. For all I knew, he was going to walk me to my room and I’d feel like a complete ass the next morning. I was filled with dread as we rolled to a stop and Sam opened the door.

I pushed against his chest, determined to stand, but his arms tightened. Instead, Kelly slid across the seat, me still in his arms, and maneuvered us through the door, making sure my feet were flat on the ground before letting me take my own weight. I felt like an idiot.

“I haven’t had that much to drink,” I mumbled, but he only offered me that sexy smirk.

Grabbing my hand and fitting his fingers between mine, he turned toward his house. He paused mid-step and pulled me off the front walk, across the lawn, and on to the side drive. I didn’t know how he lived his life now, but I doubted he didn’t have a key to his house. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t bother slowing down but threw a wicked grin at me over his shoulder. “The house is full.”

That was it. No more explanation? I groaned. Then he skirted the garage and his tour bus – hidden behind the mammoth building – came into view. He opened the door and stepped back, motioning me in ahead of him. I climbed the lit stairs slowly, not sure what we were doing here. I knew who he was; he didn’t have to show off.

He climbed up behind me, hands moving to my hips and turning me toward him. “I wanted you all to myself.” His eyes moved over my face, down to my lips. Then I was in his arms and he was rushing through the room, down a hall, and into a tiny bedroom.

The large bed took up almost the entire area with only a thin stand and a small pathway on one side of it. He lowered my feet to the ground, steadying me, and turned to shut and lock the door.

“Expecting company?”

He shrugged. “Old habits.” The words cut through me, reminding me I was only one of many that he’d brought back here. I knew what this was, what I’d asked him to do. Even tipsy, I didn’t have false expectations. But somewhere deep, the knowledge that I wasn’t the first woman in this room hurt.

“That’s not what I meant.”

My back was against the door and his arms were beside me, blocking me in, before the words even left his lips.

“I live on this thing with a bunch of assholes who think they’re funny, Red. I lock it to keep ‘em out,” he explained.

Tomorrow I would focus on how much I hated that he could read me after all this time. For now, I pushed it out of my mind.

He smelled heavenly. Like a forest on a summer day. That’s one thing I couldn’t get from watching him on TV or seeing his face in the tabloids and I needed more of it. I moved closer, desperate to burn that scent into my memory. My arms wrapped around him and pulled him down so I could reach, burrowing my face into his neck. It wasn’t enough; I needed to taste him.

He inhaled sharply the second my tongue touched his skin. He tried to jerk back, but I held tight; he tasted like salt, sweat, and Neil. I groaned, needing more. Whiskers scrapped against my cheek, sending me into sensory overload as my mouth moved higher and my hand moved lower, skimming over the bulge in his jeans. As I nipped at the bottom of his ear, the realization that he didn’t have earrings hit me.

It could have been the alcohol or the fact that I always get giggly when I get nervous – or maybe a combination of the two – but I couldn’t hold in the laughter that escaped. His hands gripped my shoulders and he shoved me away from him, back into the door; not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to let me know he was serious.

“Somethin’ funny, Red?” His growl was bitter, the tone surprising me. But it was the agitation etched on his face that sobered me immediately.

The smile fell from my face as I shook my head. “I…” I swallowed, glancing over his shoulder, zoning in on the mirror over the bed. It was stupid. I couldn’t look at him. “I’m nervous.”

I felt the tension leave him. He adjusted, moving his body into my line of sight. “Hey, now.” His voice was soft, understanding even as he tipped his head down and looked directly into my eyes. The room was dim, but I could see him perfectly. “Kiss me. Don’t think, Lia. Just kiss me.”

As soon as he spoke the words, his lips moved to mine and his hands slid down my arms, circling around me and pulling me into him. “Don’t think,” he whispered in my ear before igniting a path down my neck to the hollow of my throat. Every worry I had, every single thought evaporated from my mind as his hands and lips explored. The way he knew where to touch me, the way he kissed and bit and teased all the right spots, reminded me that this was someone that knew my body better than I did.

My shirt was lifted over my head and flung behind him, but I didn’t notice it was gone until his teeth closed over a silk covered nipple, making me gasp for air and sink my nails into his scalp. He chuckled – a low and dangerous sound – and put a hand between my shoulder blades, forcing me to arch into him.

It wasn’t enough. I needed more. Grabbing the back of his shirt, I tugged. I wanted to feel him, to kiss him.

The bastard fought me, instead, dropping to his knees and kissing my stomach. He turned his face up, watching me, as he unbuttoned my jeans, sliding the zipper down, and parting the fabric, his mouth never once leaving me. Then he pulled the fabric from my thighs, pushing it down my legs, trapping my feet.

He sat back slightly, eyes only leaving my face for a second while he glanced at my panties. Then those blue-green orbs were back on mine and his lips twisted into his wicked smirk. Running the tip of a finger over my hip, he traced the lace down the little triangle. I held my breath as that finger slid under the elastic, pushing the small piece of fabric aside.

The tug that ripped them from my body was a surprise, but the mouth that immediately replaced his fingers was a shock. My back hit the door again as all my muscles tensed and my hands pushed against his shoulders. I didn’t know what kind of women Nate Kelly was used to bringing back here, but it wasn’t girls like me.

He stopped, either realizing I was pushing him away or that I was suddenly not enjoying what he was doing. When he adjusted and his eyes met mine, his face was filled with confusion. I could only shake my head like an idiot, the words I needed to say were not coming. I knew the minute he realized that was one thing that hadn’t changed for me over the past decade. I was still saving that part of me. Amazement and something I couldn’t read replaced the confusion.

He moved quickly, arms latching behind my knees and lifting me as if I weighed nothing at all. He twisted, set me on the bed, and removed my bra with one hand before stepping back and tugging my heels and jeans off. He stood there for a few seconds, biting his lip as his eyes traced my body. I fought the urge to cover and hide; it wasn’t the same body he had once known. I was a lot softer almost everywhere and probably a lot bigger than the women he was used to, but he didn’t look disgusted.

No, he didn’t look repulsed at all. After moving gradually back up my body, his eyes met mine. He reached down, pulling his shirt off. I didn’t ever want him to cover himself again. If he were mine, I would demand that he walk around shirtless. All. The. Time. I could spend hours staring at the tattoos that decorated him, trying to figure out what each was.

He didn’t give me long to look. Instead, he popped the button on his jeans, dropping them and kicking them off in a fluidity that I envied. Then it was my turn to stare. My breath caught, my heart raced. Good Lord, he was beautiful. No one could tell that under his clothes, Nate Kelly hid the body of a god. Lean, cut, and pure muscle. Holy hell.

Yeah, that wasn’t the body I’d once known, either.

He grinned and bit his lip again, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. Putting one knee on the bed, he winked and climbed up over me. He hovered over me for a minute, lost in my eyes as his right hand tangled in my hair. “Touch me.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I lifted my hands to his ass, gliding my fingertips up over each side of his body as gently as I could. The movement still tickled him, though, and he shivered. I hesitated for a second, but he shook his head. “Don’t stop.”

He leaned down, attacking my neck with teeth and then kissed the pain away with a flick of his tongue. His hand tightened in my hair, keeping me from moving as his mouth climbed up one side of my neck, over to my mouth, and then down the other. He loosened his grip on my hair, if only slightly, as he moved further south, finding my breasts. While his mouth feasted on one, his fingers expertly massaged the other, rolling my nipple between two fingers, pinching slightly, making me gasp.

He released my hair, moving that hand down so he could nibble on the other. I arched into him, lifting my head off the bed and reaching for him. Before my fingers had a chance to connect with his flesh, his other hand grabbed my hair and yanked my head back to the bed. I groaned in frustration, jerking on his hair to show him I wanted to touch more of him. He ignored me.

His hand released my nipple, but his mouth moved back and forth between the two, suckling and biting, driving me crazy. I felt his fingers dancing across my skin between us, climbing lower and lower until they found the most secret part of me. I couldn’t keep my cries quiet as his thumb found my clit and two fingers entered me. I wanted to open my legs, granting him access. I needed to move, to help him establish a tempo. He wouldn’t let me. With my hair still wound around one of his hands, his mouth torturing my nipples, and his stomach pressed into mine, I couldn’t move.

“Neil!” I cried, yanking on his hair again, probably painfully. “Please.”

He lifted his head, pulling my breast with him until it popped out of his mouth. “Please, what?” he asked before dropping his lips to the other breast, running his tongue around my swollen nub as his fingers pushed in and out quickly and his thumb moved in circles. Every part of my body was on alert, begging for a release I’d only get one way. “Tell me what you want, Lia.”

“Fuck me.” I didn’t recognize my own voice.

In an instant, he pushed himself back on his knees between my legs and I felt empty. Then he was pulling a foil packet from the stand next to my head, ripping in open with his teeth and covering his beautiful cock before I could reach out and touch him the way I wanted. In a move that a seventeen-year-old would be envious of, his hands moved to my shoulders, holding me down, and he entered me.

We moaned at the same time. It had been too long since I’d had sex and my body stretched around him. As if he understood, he moved deliberately slow, inch by inch until we were as close as two people could get. He didn’t move for a second; instead, he leaned down to capture my lips again. This kiss was unlike the others. It was soft, full of longing, but also full of promise. It was the way Neil used to kiss me.

“I gotta move, babe.” Before I could respond or tell him I needed him to, his weight was on my shoulders again, holding me still, keeping me from touching him, and he was moving. Each thrust was harder than the one before it and my legs wrapped around his waist on their own, trying to get him to stay deep. The room filled with sounds of skin slapping skin, his grunts, and my moans.