The Best Kind of Trouble (14 page)

My eyes watered and I threw my arms around her neck, suddenly grateful I still had her.

That night, in my room, I sat on my bed and stared at the stark white pages of the contract.  Paper that with my signature had the power to change my life. To change everything.

I took a deep breath, and scrawled my name across the bottom.

Why'd you come in here lookin' like that?

~Dolly Parton

My breath caught in my throat the second I watched Mr. Sexy himself walk out onto the stage.

Holy hell.

I was sitting in a large open room, a makeshift stage on one wall, and several executives from the label on either side of me.  The man on the stage was auditioning to be my guitar player.  He swung the leather guitar strap around his head and began fingering the cords with long nimble fingers.

I watched him, rapt with attention.

His head was shaved and he had a light dusting of scruff along his strong angular jaw.  His eyes were dark, his lips full, and his arms covered in swirling black tattoos.  He was fit, but not in the broad shouldered, big muscular way Nathan was.

A black t-shirt stretched across his torso, as I watched his hands fly across the keys.  A leather cuff wrapped around his left wrist, and even his knuckles had ink.

I felt heat rise in my cheeks and I squirmed at the sudden wetness between my thighs.  He ran his tongue along his lower lip and I imagined all the ways he could lick me. Shivering I bit my lip, as hot sweaty fantasies rolled through my mind.

When he finished playing, his eyes opened and stuck on mine.  A subtle knowing smirk curved the corner of his lips, and I was almost relieved that no dimple sunk into his cheek.  That would have just been too much.

“Thank you, Caleb,” the man next to me said.  Caleb’s dark eyes turned away from mine and he nodded at the gentlemen in the room before exiting through a side door.

All the breath rushed from lungs when the door closed behind him.
What the hell was that about?

Months alone, probably.  Since Nathan and I broke up in November, I hadn’t even looked at another man.  Truth was, some part of me knew a random hook-up would help, however briefly. It had the potential to make me feel wanted and beautiful and would give me the semblance of intimacy that I was missing. 

But, then, I knew it would feel empty and shallow later.  Or at least, I thought it would.  I knew it couldn’t be what I shared with Nate.  I might never be able to give my heart to someone like that again.

I thought about going on tour and getting sweaty with Caleb.  It would feel so good. And be so fun.  I just had to keep my feelings in check this time. 

A slow smile spread across my face as I left the auditions that day.  The suits had agreed with me and decided on Caleb Mathews.

~000~

A week later, I was lugging my suitcase onto my tour bus—that I was sharing with my new band—when an inked hand reached out and grabbed it from me.

“Here,” a deep raspy voice said. “Let me help you.”

I whipped my head up and just barely controlled a gasp when my eyes collided with Caleb’s. 
God, he looked sinful.
  His eyes were like melted chocolate. He was dressed all in black, with a pair of shiny aviators resting on his shaved head.

Would it be totally inappropriate to jump on him and kiss those pouty lips right now?

“Hi,” I managed to squeak. 

I swear my voice sounded high and breathless.  Yeah, not exactly the sultry vixen I wanted to be, that I had envisioned being on this tour.  Instead, I sounded like a high school girl with a crush. 

Or a groupie.
  I cringed. I’m sure Caleb had lots of groupies willing to warm his bed.

Suddenly, my plan to have a fling with Caleb sounded stupid.  And completely unrealistic.

“Hi,” he replied back, hoisting my suitcase onto the bus.  I followed close behind. “Everyone else should be here shortly.”

He set my luggage next to a row of bunks and I took in my new digs.  There were two couches on either side of a large open space, a small kitchenette with a shiny black island, and a little booth with a table next to it.  In the back there were four bunks and one bathroom.

I plopped down on the couch and my other two bandmates came in.  Mark, my drummer, was shorter than Nate or Caleb with a messy curly mop of brown hair.  Jackson, blonde and skinny, was the bass player. 

While Caleb exuded sex and a subtle cockiness, and Mark seemed like wild fun, Jackson was laid back and quiet.

“Hey!” Mark greeted enthusiastically giving me a huge bear hug when he came in, practically squeezing the life out of me. 

It was a little odd since I’d only met him a few times, once at auditions and the twice we’d practiced together.  “So, Ms. Ashley Parker, excited yet?”

I mirrored his ear to ear grin and bounced in my seat.  “So excited!”

Caleb chuckled and sat on the couch across from me and Mark.  Jackson disappeared to put away his stuff.  I looked around me again, suddenly nervous to be sharing living space with three boys.

Mark got up and started looking through the various cabinets in the kitchen just as my manager, Johanna, and the driver disappeared up front and the bus started to move.

He came back grinning dangling a bottle a Jack. 

“Let’s have a little bonding session.”

Jackson and Caleb shrugged and followed Mark to the small booth.  I bit my lip and slid in next to Mark, who poured the amber liquid into four shot glasses.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Mark started. “Everyone will get a chance to ask someone a question, you either answer it, or take your shot. I’ll go first.”

Mark rested his arm along the back of the bench seat and leaned towards me, a leering look in his eyes.  “So, Ashley, do I have a chance?”

Then he winked at me.  The look he was giving me was so mock serious, I burst out laughing and then downed my shot.

“Ah!!! She didn’t say no!” he roared, laughing, his eyes twinkling with amusement.  “Sorry boys, looks like our leading lady has a little crush on yours truly.”

I snorted and shook my head trying to clear my thoughts and control my laughter.

“Okay, okay,” Jackson said.  “That’s enough, Romeo.”

Mark continued laughing as I thought of a question.  I looked up and my eyes collided with Caleb’s dark probing gaze.  What could I ask?  I wasn’t sure if I even knew how to flirt.

I cleared my throat.  “Caleb,” I began.  My eyes roamed over him, searching for something to ask.  I focused on the swirling lines of his tattooed arms.  There were pictures and words there.  I squinted my eyes and tilted my head trying to decipher the scrawling words across his forearm.  “What does your tattoo say?”

His lips curved up on one side, but his dark eyes stayed locked on my face. “A lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies.”

I furrowed my brow.  “Tennyson?”

His lips curved up a little more, softening the hard angles of his face. 

“Why that quote?  What does it mean?” I asked curiously.

He didn’t take his eyes off mine, just lifted the shot glass to his lips, slammed it back and sat it back on the table with a thud.  He made even the simplest things look sexy.

“My turn,” he grinned.  “Do you have any tattoos, Ms. Ashley?”

I blushed under his scrutinizing eyes.  Instead of answering the truth—no—which sounded lame.  I took my shot, looking up at him from under my lashes and trying for a flirtatious smile.

His dark eyes darkened until they looked like the sky or a cup of plain coffee. 

After a few more rounds, and several more questions passed around in which I got to know too much about Mark and not enough about Caleb, I was feeling a little tipsy and I excused myself to the bathroom. 

When I came out, Caleb was there, looking dark and predatory in the low lighting.  He stalked forward pushing me backwards into the shower stall.  I pressed my back into the tiles as his palms came down with a smack on either side of my head.

He was so close, his warm spicy scent invaded my senses.  I captured my lip between my teeth as my stomach fluttered. 

Caleb leaned forward, brushing his nose along the side of my neck and jaw, until his lips came to rest inches from my ear.

“Were you flirting with me, Parker?”

I swallowed hard and tried to shrug, feigning indifference, even as my heart sped up.  Caleb pulled back and grasped my chin in his calloused fingers.  His thumb reached up, tugging my bottom lip out.  He leaned into me and captured my lip with his teeth and then soothing the sting with a gentle kiss.

He didn’t smile at me when he pulled away.  “Well, if you figure it out, let me know.”

And then he left.  I fell back against the tiles, panting, my heart galloping like a thousand horses.

Trouble,
I thought sarcastically. 
I never knew trouble until now.

Our first two shows kicked ass.  I felt euphoric and energized.  Being on stage, in front of hundreds of people, singing my words, letting that private part of me, my bleeding broken heart, out, was freeing and healing. After our third show, having the audience singing my words with me, was a fucking trip.

After a show in Atlanta, I was exiting the stage, when Mark slung a sweaty arm around me and pulled me into his side.  “Come on Ash, let’s go join the party backstage.  Maybe I can convince you to make some bad decisions.”

He wiggled his eyebrows at me suggestively.  I laughed.  Mark was a harmless flirt.  And fun.  I was feeling on top of the world, my whole body hummed with the energy of being on stage as I let Mark lead me backstage.

I spotted Caleb after I finished my first drink, with two blondes draped across his lap.  I wrinkled my nose.  Besides a few sultry gazes from Mr. Dark and Sexy, he’d barely acknowledge me in the last three weeks.

Mark leaned in next to me and whispered, “Now, that, little momma, is definitely a bad decision.”

I swung my head around to meet his eyes.  For once he looked serious.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said defensively.

“Uh huh,” he said, sipping his beer.  “Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Really, I should have heeded his warning.  My track record with men spelt trouble.  But, I reasoned with myself, this was different.  It’s not like I wanted to date him.  Or fall in love.  I just wanted to have a little fun.

I stalked over the where Caleb was sitting on a couch and rolled my eyes at the jealous glares the two bimbos gave me as I got closer.  Feeling embolden by the alcohol and adrenaline coursing through me, I straddled his lap and held myself up with my hands on his shoulders.

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.  Both his hands cupped my ass, his long fingers teasing the hem of my shirt and the bare skin of my hips.  The slutty groupies on either side of me protested, but he ignored them, locking his dark eyes on mine and raising one eyebrow.

“Caleb,” I purred, my voice low and husky.  “I want a tattoo.  Will you take me?”

His lips quirked up in a smile.  “A tattoo, huh?”  He ran his hands up under my shirt, along my ribcage, letting his thumb brush the bottom of my lacy bra.  “Our pop princess wants to be bad?”

I shivered and nodded. Caleb’s eyes still stayed locked on mine. He moved his out from under my shirt and cupped my face in both his hands.

I swallowed hard against the lump that rose in my throat. The gesture was too familiar. Too much like the way Nathan always touched my face. Thinking about Nathan caused a sadness and pain and regret to rip through me.  But then, just a quickly, anger took over, burning red, hot, and explosive. 
Nathan
didn’t want me. 
Nathan
had lied to me. Used me.  Dumped me.  Not once, but
twice.

I shook off my anger and melancholy, and smiled at Caleb, focusing on his dark eyes and wicked smile. I ran my fingers along his arms and then under the sleeve of his tight black tee and nodded.

“I’m thinking something right here,” he murmured, running one hand along the length on my ribs.  “Maybe words from one of your songs?”

I shivered at his touch and involuntarily rocked my hips against his.  He groaned, dropped his hands back to my ass, and clutched me tighter, pressing me against the rock hard bulge straining against the fly of his jeans.

“Which song?” I whispered, my voice was high and a little breathless.

He shrugged and lifted me off his lap before pulling me to my feet.  He intertwined his fingers with mine and pulled me back through the crowd, toward the exit.  I caught Mark’s eyes just before we left.  He gave me a rueful smile and shook his head.

~000~

An hour later I was laying on my side, while a buzzing noise filled the air.  Accompanied periodically by my pathetic whimpering. 

I was not playing the part of bad-ass rocker chick very well.

I gritted my teeth at the needle dug into my skin and traced over my ribs. 
Not. At. All.

Caleb held my hands and gave me a pouty look.  My nostrils flared.  Now, Mr. Dark and Dangerously Sexy was mocking me. Great. How the hell was I supposed to get him in my bed now?

“Shut. Up,” I said through my clenched teeth.  He was fighting a smile.  I could see his lip twitching and his dark eyes danced with humor.

“Princess,” he said softly, and I frowned at him.  He quirked an eyebrow at me.  “No Princess?”

I shook my head and bit my lip.

“Angel?” he asked.  He was just barely controlling his laughter.  Asshole.  I pursed my lips. “Okay, okay. No nicknames.  Just Ashley.”

He grinned at me and I scowled back. Caleb leaned in, letting his warm minty breath wash over my lips.  “Besides, none of those quite do you justice anyways.  You are sweet, sexy, sassy perfection.”

Warmth spread through me and I flushed at his words.  Mr. Sexy himself calling
me
sexy perfection? 
God, I wanted those sinful lips on my skin.
Right. Now.

I reached up and cupped the back of his head with my hand and pulled his lips to mine.  Just as I could feel the velvety flesh of his lips meet mine, the needle poked me right between the ribs and I yelped, practically arching off the table.

“Holy shit!” I cursed.  “That hurts!”

A minute later, I was finally done.  The tattoo artist slathered some ointment over it and I looked at it the mirror. I was just barely covering the cleavage spilling out of my black lacy bra as I admired my new ink in the long mirror.  In long elegant script it was a line from a song I’d written but hadn’t finished yet.

The best kind of trouble

The tattoo artist slapped a bandage over it and I reached behind me for my shirt.  Caleb’s hand on mine stopped me.  His dark look made shivers run down my spine as he stepped closer to me.  He ran one finger along the swell of my breasts.

“So,” he whispered hoarsely.  “Figure out if you were flirting yet?”

I shook off my earlier failed attempts at being flirty and mysterious and seductive and smirked, “Maybe.”

His eyes, which had been following the path of his finger, snapped to mine and he raised both eyebrows.

“Maybe when we get back to the bus,” he said huskily.  He leaned into me, ducking his head to kiss my neck and run his tongue along my collarbone.  I just barely stopped the moan from slipping from my mouth.  “We can flirt some more, yeah?”

I nodded. Caleb pulled back, flashed me a look of pure lust and then pulled me back out the tattoo parlor and down the busy street back to the small arena we had played at and to our bus.

Before we went on, Caleb pressed me up against the bus and slammed his lips to mine. I flung my arms around him and gasped. He took the opportunity to shove his tongue in my mouth.  I moaned against him.  He was all lust, boiling and explosive; molten lava turned my insides to pure liquid, making the area between my thighs pulse and throb with heat and need.

His hands lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist.  He rocked against me and I arched, throwing my head back with reckless abandon.

“Christ, Ashley,” he said hoarsely against my throat.  “I want to fuck you right here. Right now.”

I moved my hips, rocking myself against him in response.  Caleb groaned and then kissed me again, long and deep. Our kiss was a little messy, our lips slid over each other like we wanted to devour each other, our teeth touching, tongues licking and caressing.

Finally, he pulled back. “But maybe this isn’t a good idea.  I mean, I’m your guitar player.  I—”

“Don’t. Say. It.” I commanded him. 

He sighed and the moment of crazy lust between us waned.  He set me back on my feet and put a foot of distance between our bodies.

Caleb rubbed his hand over his shaved head and over his face. He covered his mouth and met my hard gaze.

I blew out a frustrated breath.  “This isn’t a big deal, unless you make it one.  I just wanted to have a little fun. I’m attracted to you.  We’re on tour.  No strings and all that.”

He frowned at me with a contemplative look in his dark eyes.

I took another deep breath.  “Aren’t you attracted to me?”

He cocked his head to the side and rolled his eyes. “Obviously, Ashley.  I just didn’t think—”

I stepped closer to him.  “Think what?”

He shrugged.  “I didn’t think you were that type of girl.”

I pursed my lips and frowned.  “What type of girl?”

He sighed like he knew this conversation was taking a turn that he didn’t want.  “The kind of girl that has no strings attached flings.”

I put my hands on my hips and continued to frown at him. 

What was I supposed to say to that? 

I definitely wasn’t normally that type of girl.  But, I wanted to be with him. This was my chance to move on. 
Did that make me just like those slutty groupies?

Or worse.
Did that make me like Nathan?

“Look, Ashley, I don’t—” he cut off and grunted.  “I just meant that you seemed really innocent when we first met.  Like the kind of girl that needs flowers and anniversaries and wedding bells,” he pointed at his chest.  “And that sure as hell ain’t me.  Or what I’m looking for.”

“Maybe that’s not what I’m looking for either,” I said, stepping closer.  “Haven’t you listened to my songs? I’m broken.  I just want to have a little fun.”

He stared me like he was fighting with himself.  And losing the battle. I pressed myself against him and stood on my toes to whisper in his ear.  “Just tonight.”

Caleb grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the bus.  When we got inside, we found Mark on the couch, a very naked girl with blue and black hair on top of him.  Mark didn’t even noticed us.  I shielded my eyes and followed Caleb.  He stopped short in between the rows of bunks.  We could both hear Jackson’s light snoring.

He looked back at me and then around and then at the bathroom.  With a determined focus he pulled me into the small space and closed and locked the door behind us.  Before I could even think, his lips were on mine, hungry and wild.

I wiggled out of my shirt and pants and helped him pull his shirt over his head, feasting my eyes on his naked torso for the first time.  More ink wrapped around his shoulder and down his ribcage.  He was toned and sexy and I wanted to lick a trail down his stomach.

Caleb kissed my neck and unhooked my bra with deft fingers as I popped the button on his jeans.  He kicked them and his boxers off, releasing himself for my viewing pleasure.  Hard and swollen, it looked almost painful.  Reaching down, he pulled a square of foil from the pocket of his jeans and ripped it open with his teeth, keeping his eyes on me the whole time.