Rush (Pandemic Sorrow #2) (15 page)

I heard the door open. I had to think quick. I had to get keep their attention away from that hallway.

“So,” I said, rubbing my hand over the back of my neck. I looked over at Asher.
Act normal. Act like the pervert that you are, or else they’ll know.
Out of a paranoid panic, I blurted out, “Those are some nice tits you got there. What cup size are you?”

Her expression didn’t change. She still looked butthurt that I’d put her band name down.

“Stone prefers C cups, Pax prefers D cups, and I just prefer girls who take it in the ass.” Sweat pricked its way across my forehead from guilt at having just pretended to hit on this girl when I knew Jules was making her way down the hall.

Stone and Pax laughed.

Asher pushed her breasts out, squeezing them together with her hands. “Well, Rush, it looks like I’m more yours and Pax’s type than Stone’s.”

I forced a laugh, staring behind Stone and Pax, whose eyes were now trained on Asher’s tits. I watched as Jules walked past and disappeared down another hallway.

My concentration was broken by the feel of a finger weaving its way across my chest. Looking down, I saw Asher’s pointed black nail trailing over me, reaching for the hem of my shirt.

“Sorry.” I scooted out of her reach. “I don’t fuck around with people I work with. Sometimes I just can’t stop my mouth.” I brushed her touch off of me and looked at the guys. “I’ll catch you guys later. I got to go…do something.”

I turned and made my way to the front of the office, my head spinning with how in the hell we could ever keep this a secret.

Chapter 21

Jules followed me out to my car. She was blabbing on her phone about some of the venues in Germany and went to reach for the handle of my car. Grabbing her arm, I yanked it away.

“Excuse me! But my girl doesn’t open doors,” I scolded as I popped the door open, holding it as she climbed in.

I softly closed her door, then made my way to the driver’s side and slid into the leather seat.

She tossed her phone into her purse and glanced around the interior of my car. “You and Jag and these ridiculous cars. You have too many cars?”

I shrugged and started the car, the engine rattling the entire body. “Only three.”

Jules laughed and nodded. “
Only
three…because that’s so not excessive.” She glanced around the sleek black interior. “A Pagani, right?”

Slightly impressed with her knowledge of badass cars, I backed out of the parking spot, revving the engine for show. “Very good! I got it right before we went on tour. This is my new baby.”

“What about your poor Chevelle?”

“Oh, I’ll always love her too, but this one is my date car. You know, more glamorous, more likely to get you to suck my dick at the end of the night.” I pointed to her seatbelt. “You might want to buckle up. I’m a shitty driver.”

My eyes quickly scanned over her. She looked gorgeous. Simple light blue cotton dress, strappy dress sandals, and nothing but mascara on. She wasn’t trying to impress me; she already knew she had me. Pretty sure she’d known that for a few years, she just hadn’t been sure I knew it.

I let off the clutch and pulled my eyes up to her face. “You look so damn beautiful.”

A delicate smile shaped her mouth. “Thanks,” she said softly. She picked at her cuticles, giving her a reason to stare down into her lap. The sweet, non-smartass side of me still made her uncomfortable. It was a piece of me she hadn’t grown accustomed to just yet.

We drove along the freeway, enjoying the radio and coming to a gridlock several times when the traffic backed up.

I tapped my fingers over the steering wheel in beat with the Korn song blaring through the high-end speaker system. “So, did you always want to be in charge of dumbfucks like me?”

She giggled.

God, I loved that prissy, girly laugh of hers.

“Not exactly. I used to wanna…oh, I don’t know.”

Traffic flowed again. “Wanna what?” I glanced in the rearview mirror and switched lanes.

“It was stupid.”

“I used to want to be a garbage man,” I laughed. “God, when I was a kid that seemed like the coolest fucking job.”

“Are you kidding me? Why?”

“You get to ride on the back of this big-ass, dirty truck with those little orange vests on. Then you get to jump off, dump trash out, and throw the can down on the lawn. If that job doesn’t scream ‘man,’ I don’t know what does.” I laughed at the memory of how I used to sit on the porch in the summer, waiting for the garbage truck to roll by. “To a kid, a job that lets you get filthy and smell like shit seems like the golden ticket.”

“You are so weird! I’m not sure how to take the fact that you like me anymore.” She went back to fiddling with her nails.

“So, what did you want to be?”

“An actress.” A slight huff escaped her mouth. Looking out her window, she tapped her nails over the glass, then directed her attention back at me. “Pathetic, right?”

“Okay, you are asking a rocker”—I looked over my shoulder and skirted across the lane to the exit ramp—“if wanting to be in the entertainment business is pathetic?”

She sighed. “It’s just…it doesn’t really seem like me, right?”

“No. But I think you would have made one hella good actress. Look at how well you did with pretending you loathed me. Had me sold for years, still have the guys sold.”

“Loathed? That’s a word I wouldn’t expect you to use.”

“Again, I’m not as dumb as I look. You wanna know my dirty secret? I made straight A’s, I was in the fucking science club and on debate team. Shhh, can’t fuck up the dipshit vibe I’ve worked so hard to put out.”

“Wow. I’m speechless.”

I nodded. “Yep. Pretty and smart. Oh, and famous. I’m the fucking jackpot.” I could feel her shooting me a not-so-pleased smile. Narcissism was Jag’s forte, not mine. “So, why didn’t you try out your acting skills?”

“Oh, I did, and, well, I got tired of rejection and decided to give it up. Honestly,” she said, and a nervous laugh bubbled out of her. “I thought maybe if I got close enough to fame that would quench that thirst, or…” She covered her face with her hand. “Don’t judge me, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. No judgment.”

“I thought maybe I could just fuck my way into a role. You know, find the right connection, the right—”

“Reality show host?” I blurted out before I’d thought about what an asinine thing it was to say.

Jules fell silent for a moment, going back to picking her nails.

Her statement actually floored me. Jules had never come across as one of those girls.
That had been years ago, surely she wasn’t still trying to use someone as a stepping stone? Fuck, now how the hell am I supposed to know that’s not what she’s doing with me?

“Sorry. That was an asshole thing for me to say, I know that Ronan was—” I swallowed because I didn’t really want to say anything decent about the guy, and thankfully Jules interrupted me.

“A piece of shit? And yeah, that is why I dated him. Ashamed to say it. I was immature and young. And that was a horrible thing to do. I hate people who use others. I can’t believe I ever thought like that.”

I felt relief at hearing that. I wanted it to have just been a relationship of convenience with him. For some reason, I didn’t want her to have ever loved anyone. I didn’t want her to have given that piece of her away, because I never had. I had never in my entire life told a girl that I loved her.

People throw that word around too much. I don’t get why people worry about holding on to their virginity. Sex is just part of life; it’s an ingrained physical need that you don’t have to understand. Love—that’s what people
should
be saving. Love is what can rip you to pieces, or make you complete. It’s what connects you on a whole new level to a person, not sex.

She pulled in a deep breath and softly said, “But I did end up loving him.”

Shit. That tore at me a little.
“Huh…can I get over?” I just had to stop that conversation there.

Traffic at six in LA is a bitch. We only had a few blocks to go, but it took damn near an hour. At one point I reached over and took Jules’ delicate hand in mine, grazing my thumb over her knuckles while I watched the driver in the Honda in front of us bang his fists on the dash, bounce up and down while pulling at his hair, and toss his hands up in frustration because we weren’t moving.

Being with her felt so right, the only thing awkward about it was
how
right it felt.

We pulled up in front of the restaurant and the valet came scurrying over to us, a huge smile stretching over his face as he looked at my car, then recognized me.

I got out and tossed the keys at him, and he handed me a card with my valet number on it before I went to get Jules. I glanced at the card and saw the number sixty-nine. The thirteen-year-old pervert inside me snickered at that number. As soon as I placed my arm around her waist, she jerked away.

“What the hell are you doing? You can’t do shit like that in public. Damn it, Rush.” She took a quick glance around before her eyes locked on me. “We are on a
business
date. People are staring. People are taking pictures of you with their phone, and for all you know, the paparazzi is behind the damn shrubs.”

I shoved my hands in my pockets, rolling my eyes and grumbling. “Right. I forgot. Excuse me.”

Jules’ eyes darted back and forth, scanning over the crowd.

“You nervous?” I leaned down and whispered in her ear.

She shoved me away in usual Jules fashion. “Acting, remember that!”

Running my tongue over my teeth, I nodded. “Yeah, yeah.”

The door opened for us and we were escorted inside. The drone of conversation and light classical music replaced the sound of rush hour traffic and horns.

Quickly slapping her ass, I said, “Then expect me to be Rush Wilder the rock star tonight, not the guy completely
enamored
with you. Okay, sweetheart?” One side of my mouth curled up. “Wouldn’t want to blow the cover. Doing something wrong feels so good. Makes my dick hard as fuck.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sure thing, science geek,” she whispered, and we made our way to the hostess stand.

The young girl looked up, smiling. “Mr. Wilder—”

I tapped my hand on the wooden stand. “Nope. Rush, Sex Idol…but not Mr. Wilder. I don’t have a stick up my ass, you know.”

“Oh, God,” Jules groaned, shaking her head and covering her eyes with her hand.

The hostess nodded, then quietly said, “Your table is right this way.”

I decided I needed to sell the hell out of this, so I cleared my throat and loudly proclaimed, “Hey, I’m on a business date with this chick right here. Nothing romantic about it. We hate each other, actually, so you know…I’m still available. Don’t worry, ladies.”

People stared, some laughing, some thoroughly annoyed, as we wove our way through the tables.

Jules grabbed my side, gathering a fair amount of skin between her fingers and twisting. “Over the top.”

I hissed from the burn tearing through me and whispered, “It’s all I know. Sorry.”

*****

I’d had one too many whiskey sours at the restaurant, which, by the way, was absolutely worth it, not only because of that nice whirly feeling cascading through me, but because watching Jules have a nervous breakdown while driving my car home was beyond entertaining.

She pulled into my drive and slammed the gear into park, letting out a groan as I sat in the passenger seat, laughing hysterically. Her eyes cut over to me. “It’s not funny, Rush. I couldn’t afford to pay for half of this damn car, and I suck at driving a stick.”

“Sweetheart”—I pushed the door open and stumbled out and around to the driver’s side to open her door—“you absolutely do
not
suck at driving a stick. I loved watching you grip the hell out of it, couldn’t help but think about that being my fat cock clutched in your hand.”

“Everything is sex with you, huh?” she taunted as she climbed out.

“Used to be, not so much with you. There’s more to you than sex.” I ran my finger over her shoulder.

She stopped, a light pink painting her cheeks.

Am I really that big of a pervert that a comment like that came across sweet enough to make her blush? Shit.

She tried to hand me the keys and I shook my head, momentarily losing my balance. “You unlock it.”

I followed her to the double wooden doors at the front of my house. When she stopped and fiddled with the keys, I sensually caressed down her sides, slowly wrapping my arms around her waist and inhaling as I leaned down by her ear.

“God,” I sucked in a quick breath between my clenched teeth. “Having to pretend like I couldn’t have you during dinner has made me so fucking hard. I am gonna fuck you so raw,” I said, sucking back another short breath. “Tonight, I’m gonna mark you so that no other man will ever be able to make you happy again. I’m gonna fuck you, and I’m gonna make you
all
mine. Got that? Mine!”

Jules’ breath caught, and I felt the pulse in her neck accelerate through my lips as they slowly rolled over her flesh. I wanted to tear into her like a fucking beast.

“You have about three seconds to get that door open, or I am gonna fuck you right here on the front steps. One.”

The keys clinked together.

“Two.”

And the door swung open.

“Three.” I bit down on her neck and pushed her inside against the wall, spinning her around to face me.

Our mouths crashed against each other, the heat from her tongue sending a need to rip her clothes off spiraling through me. In seconds, we were both nude, groping at handfuls of naked flesh. Mouths all over each other, moaning and devouring one another like if we didn’t, we’d die some horrible fucking death—and the front door was still wide open.

Want.
I had never wanted someone the way I did her.

She was desire, lust, need…she was everything I had ever dreamed of and never had. And I’d be damned to hell if she wasn’t going to be mine. Jules belonged to me, and if I had to leave the band to make sure she stayed with me, I would. Fame, money…not even music was worth not having her. And that was monumental.