Metal & Lace (An Opposites Attract Novel Book 1) (8 page)

My life's been one big mystery.

The darkness keeps trying to drag me beneath.

I've been beat down…

I've been thrown away…

A criminal is all you see when you look at me.

But I'm more than these tattoos you see.

Baby, I'm jaded…

not just complicated.

You've never taken time to see the real me…

locked behind these graffitied walls.

I fight my demons every day…

laying alone here in the dark.

I've wanted to give up so many times.

But I refuse to give into…

the darkness trying so hard to succeed.

Cause I'm more than these tattoos you see..

Baby, I'm jaded…

not just complicated.

You've never taken time to see the real me…

locked behind these graffitied walls.

You never knew me at all.

You say I'll never change…

I'll never be worthy…

I'll never be more.

To hell with you…

and your poisonous point of view.

I don't need you bringing me down.

I can do that on my own.

I may be jaded, complicated…

but you'll never break me.

I know I'm more than these tattoos you see.

Baby, I'm jaded…

not just complicated.

You've never taken time to see the real me…

locked behind these graffitied walls.

You never knew me at all.

Throughout the song, he turns to me on occasion, seemingly singing just for me.

Yup, I’m in big fucking trouble.

After the show, Jay, Dylan, and Callie head to a party in the
Hollywood hills to celebrate the end of a successful US tour. They invited Lace and I. But I have my own celebration in mind for us back at the hotel.

“Where are we going?” she asks as I guide her toward a tucked
away area on the east side of the property.

“You’ll see when we get there,” I answer with a self-satisfied grin.

We stroll along a slate-stone pathway, through thick shrubs and trees and tucked away bungalows, and head down a short flight of stairs lined with bamboo.

“The pool?” she asks, but I don’t respond since the answer is clear. “I’ve heard some wild stuff has gone on down here.”

I bob my head and smile and walk her over to the shallow side of the oval-shaped pool. I kick off my old boots, pull off my shirt, and unzip my fly, watching her with a hooded eyes and a sinister smirk.

“Are we going swimming?” She seems nervous, her voice trembling a little. “I don’t have a bathing suit with me.”

I remain silent and take my pants and boxer briefs down to the ground.

“Um,” she murmurs, staring down at my dick. It isn’t a monster or anything, but I’ve never had any complaints either.

“If you’re going to stare at it, you could at least have the courtesy of wrapping your lips around it. Or you can get undressed and join me for a swim.” She looks down at her body and chews on the side of her mouth. “Don’t think about it, Lace. You’re too far in that fucking head of yours.”

“We can’t all live beyond consequences, Gunnar.”

I shake my head and dive into the pool. It feels like warm velvet on my skin. Just how I imagine her tongue would feel on my cock. I emerge, running my hands over my hair and watch her. She just stands at the edge, staring at me with reluctance in her eyes.

“What if you could, Lace? Would you loosen up a little?”

She smiles at me, letting go slightly. “Look, I can see the appeal of recklessness, but that’s not me. I’m organized, I got good grades in school, and I ate all my vegetables. I’m not this wild woman you seem to think I am.”

“I beg to differ. You didn’t see what I did this afternoon. You were free, baby doll. And it was beautiful.” When she doesn’t seem to budge, and even though I know the answer, I ask, “Are you wearing any underwear?”

“Yes,” she replies on an exhale.

“Then wear those…I never said you had to get fully naked.”

“No, you didn’t say anything. You only suggested it by…” She extends her hand out to me as if to remind me of my nudity. With my dick floating about, it’s kinda hard not to remember.

“Are you in or out, Lace?”

She drops her bag, steps out of her shoes, and takes off her jacket, dropping it on the floor. Her little fingers grip the vintage tee at the bottom and she lifts it over her head, revealing her black lace bra. Her breasts look decent, one or two handfuls. Then her fingers shakily clasp to the buttons of her jeans. It takes her a bit to undo them, but she has an easy enough time with the zipper.

She shuts her eyes as she takes them down and then stands before me.

Her body is fuckin’ bangin’. What is she so shy about?
Then it comes to me.

“Come in, baby. The water’s fine,” I comment skimming my arms over the surface.

“It’s not the water I’m worried about.” She smirks at me and steps inside. That says a lot right there.

“Quit testing the water and get the fuck in already.”

She submerges into the pool, dunking her head beneath. When she comes up, her hair is out of its tie and it hangs about her shoulders, dripping. I swim over to her, keeping a few feet between us.

“He didn’t compliment you, did he?” I inquire.

The look on her face says it all. “What are you talking about?”

“Your ex, he didn’t compliment you, did he?”

“What makes you think that?”

“The way you feel so unsure of yourself. That’s not just from the breakup. That’s years of shit built up.”

“Yes,” she breathes out, looking at me as if she’s amazed by my intuitiveness. “Nothing I ever did was good enough. I was never good enough for him.”

“That’s bullshit, Lace. You’re
too
good for him and he knew it. He kept you down because the second you realized you deserved better, you’d leave his sorry ass.”

“How do you know all this?”

I simply reply, “Experience.”

“Well, you’re good.”

I smirk at her.

“And you’re hot, baby. Grade A.”

“So…what are you doing all the way over there?”

I move closer to her, latching onto the curve of her waist and pull her into me. She enfolds her limbs about me, allowing me to take her deeper into the pool, our legs tangling below the surface.

“May I ask you something?”

“Sure can.”

“What is that thing on your…” She glances down at my pecker.

“It’s a frenum piercing.”

“Ouch,” she murmurs, squeezing her thighs together, contorting her face at a phantom pain. “Does it bother you during sex?”

“The opposite. It makes it better for both of us.” Tilting my face in, I kiss her neck and say, “Any other questions, baby doll?”

She nods her head and blurts out, “Do you have a girlfriend, Gunnar?”

“No.”

What the fuck is she getting at?

“Do you want one?” I cock my brow at her. “I mean, what is it you’re looking for right now?”

I better tread lightly here, or I may scare her off. What I am I supposed to say to her, I just want to fuck you a few times then send you packing? Could I do that to her? She’s actually sweet and just so…pure. I know she isn’t a virgin or anything, but she’s a good girl. Not like the whores I usually plow. It makes me feel like a deviant.

“I have no established plan for my life,” I finally answer, figuring if I’m vague enough she’d just let it go. “Whatever happens, happens.”

“Oh,” she seems to perk up, “well, that’s actually good.”

“Is that right?” I ask, slightly stunned.

“I’m not looking for anything serious. I just don’t want to label anything, you know?”

“You just want to fuck.”

“Well…yeah, I guess.”

“The girl who’s too afraid to loosen up and go skinny dipping is just looking for a good fuck?”

“Why is that so hard to believe?”

“You’re not the type. Sure, you have a wild, dirty side just begging to come out and play, but you aren’t the fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type. I would know. I am…I mean,” I snap her bra strap, “come on. You’re a little goody two shoes.”

She pushes away from me. For a second, I’m sure she’s mad, but then she reaches behind her and unhooks her bra, tossing it at my head. Then her shoulders dip under the waterline and she slides off her panties, throwing those at my head, too.

“How’s that for a goody two shoes?”

“I think that was easier than I thought it would be.”

She splashes me with water. “Fuck you.”

I jump at her, grabbing her wrist and yank her into me. “That’s the plan, baby doll.”

I plant my hand on the back of her head, pulling her mouth onto mine, probing it roughly with my eager tongue. She exhales a whimpered breath, and I inhale it into my lungs. Like that first drag off a smoke, it calms that addictive itch and fuels my hunger.

I can’t wait to get it back between those creamy thighs.

Every neuron in my body smolders, crackling like the embers of
a fire.
My head starts to feel light and fuzzy and I wrap my arms about him, sinking into his touch. I kiss him back, matching his intensity. His mustache and beard tickle my lips and chin, causing me to smile against his mouth.

“What?” he asks against my lips, not fully ending our kiss.

“Your whiskers,” I comment with a giggle.

He smiles, caressing his mouth against mine. He can be heartwarmingly tender at times, unlike his rough exterior.

“You don’t like it?” he asks before giving my bottom lip a tiny nip.

I pull away long enough to say, “It’s different than what I’m used to, but a good different.”

He smirks and comes back at my mouth hard. I feel like I could melt right here, disappearing into the water around us. I love what he does to me. He makes me feel wanted, relished.

He slides his hand down my back to my ass, gripping it tight and lifts me a little higher so my lips rip from his. My breasts hover in front of his face, a face so intoxicating it should be illegal. My nipples harden when his soft, hot breath brushes across them. Even though we’re surrounded by water, I feel my own wetness between my thighs. My clit throbs violently. I’ve never wanted a man inside me so desperately.

He looks up at me, his eyes narrowing with apprehension. “Tell me you want this, Lace.”

I hesitate, pursing my lips before answering, “Yes, Gunnar. I want this. I want you buried inside me.”

He moans on an exhale and takes me into his mouth, his warm lips melding to my erect nipple. He gently sucks and pulls, elongating them further.

I’m all wound up, ready for him.

His brow crinkles and he pulls his lips away, a look of inner struggle wrenches his face.

“I have to tell you something before we do anything.”

He lowers me back into the water, taking a step back.

“What is it?”

“We can’t go anywhere serious. I can’t give you anything more than sex.”

“Okay, I thought we established this.”

“Yeah, but we have a deadline, Lace. I’m leaving to go to Europe in about a month. I won’t be back for a really long time, and I don’t do the long distance thing.”

“Oh.” I mean, sure, I wasn’t expecting wedding bells or anything, but the thought of a deadline, especially one so close you could almost touch it, makes this seem pointless. I take a step back and look away, trying to hide the disappointment on my face. I’m just fooling myself to think I don’t at least want the possibility of more. I’m hurt.

“Look, baby…”

He moves toward me, and I say, “You don’t owe me an explanation. So if that’s what you’re about to do, you can just stop where you are.”

“What do you want from me, Lace?”

“Nothing,” I lower my head and shut my eyes. “I want nothing from you.”

“Baby…”

“I’m just glad I found out now so I can end it before I invested anymore time into you. All for the best. It’s just going to end in one big mess if we keep letting it go on. I don’t have the strength for it.”

He gives me look as if what I just said stung him.

“So, because we have a limited amount of time, you just want to cut it off completely.”

“It’s like kicking a drug, Gunnar.”
Except harder.
“You don’t keep using when you’re trying to quit.”

“I’m like a drug?”

“The worst kind,” I mutter, almost too low for him to hear. “I gotta get out of here.”

I start moving through the water, its density pushing back into me, but he grabs my hand as I’m about to hit the steps. I glare back at him.

“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?” His voice is gruff, deep.

I shake my head and tug my hand out from his hold, moving toward a couple white fluffy robes on a lounge chair. I throw one on and wiggle my feet into my shoes.

When I turn around, he’s standing at the edge of the pool, naked and sopping wet. Water streams down every hard muscle and exaggerated crease to his cock, trickling off the tip of the head.

I can’t help myself. I scan his trim frame, a moving canvas of artistry, making note of the random artwork decorating a majority of his taut skin. My eyes move to his chest, focusing on the
Anarchy
tat in big western letters stretched over his pecs.

It’s perfect. He is anarchy. He is chaos.

“Don’t do this, Lace.” It sounds more like a warning than a plea. The expression on his face, as his penetrating eyes look up at me, appears almost animalistic. His chest is heaving, tatted fists clenched into tight balls at his sides. I’ve seen him pissed, but the look of desperation is something altogether different.

“I didn’t. You did.” I brush past him, clutching my clothes to my chest, attempting to appear calm when I’m suddenly very uncomfortable. I don’t feel he’ll harm me, but I can feel the hurt radiating off him.

“I knew you weren’t the type,” he hisses. It almost sounds like an insult. Even though I know it’s just a defensive maneuver, it still hurts.

A wave of sadness floods me as I run back to my room, pouring out from my eyes. I shut and bolt my door then throw myself onto the bed, soothing myself until I fall asleep.

I wake the next morning, and the ache in my heart is instant, not
even those blissful few moments of hazy forgetfulness.

There’s an abrupt knock on the door and I groan when I realize it’s probably him. I roll out of bed and shuffle over to the door, opening it with little enthusiasm. Instead of Gunn, Callie stands before me, dressed in a charcoal grey suit and turquoise blouse.

“What’s up?”

“Gunnar wanted me to tell you to start getting ready to leave. We’ll be departing in two hours. You need to be ready in one. Meet us down in the lobby.” She doesn’t say anymore, just turns and walks away. I shrug and shut the door, heading into the bathroom to clean myself up before packing.

I’m
ready
in forty-five minutes and heading down to the lobby
with
my bags in hand. When I exit, I spot Callie standing by the door, fucking with her phone again. I wonder if it’s attached to her surgically.

I head over to her and she spots me, motioning for the driver to take my bags to the limo. He stows them in the trunk and walks around to open the door for me. Callie walks me over and I slide in, realizing when I settle that I’m the only one inside.

“Where’s Gunnar?” I ask her, still standing outside talking to the driver.

“He isn’t coming with,” she says in a manner as if she didn’t just cause a searing pain in my chest. Panic.

He doesn’t want to see me again and I have only myself to blame, but I know myself. I know that if I stayed, saying goodbye in a month would be impossible. I know I made the right choice, but it doesn’t make the sharp stabbing in my chest any less painful. He’s right. I am a good girl, a prude. I’m just not that type of girl.

She shuts the door hard and off I go, whisked away to the airport, away from Gunnar.

“Is she gone?” I ask, laying on the bed.

“Yes, I just sent her off to the airport,” Callie answers, shifting her jacket off and letting it fall to the floor. “You know she wasn’t right for you.”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?”

She moves her fingers down her blouse, ripping the buttons open and tosses it aside.

“She’s a fucking prude, Gunnar. You need a sinner, not a saint.” She slides her pants down to the floor. “You need a whore like me.”

“I’ll give you that. You are a whore.”

She walks to the end of the bed, running her fingers up and down her torso. “Damn right I am…your whore.”