The Best Kind of Trouble (15 page)

I gulped nervously.  I’d only ever been with Nate.  I closed my eyes briefly and willed myself not to think of him.  Caleb threaded his fingers through my hair and found my lips with his.

With his free hand he reached between us, diving beneath my panties.  He groaned, “Christ, Ash.”  He pushed my panties down my legs and lifted me against the tiled shower, pushing into me with a quick fluid movement.

My head smacked against the tiles and I lost myself in the mindless sensations, the rhythm of his hips, and the feel of his lips on my skin and his hard muscles contracting beneath my fingertips.

Unbidden, images of Nathan, his soft husky words in my ear, his quiet intensity, and his reverent kisses flooded my mind.  Coupled with Caleb’s hard thrusts, I cried out in bittersweet ecstasy. 

Caleb set me back on my feet, kissed me softly, almost chastely, and then disposed of the condom.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I heard myself say.  I was just barely holding it together.  Suddenly I felt dirty and cheap, like everything I’d shared with Nathan was stained and tarnished.

Caleb looked over at me and grinned.  “Okay gorgeous.”

He leaned forward and gave me another kiss before exiting the bathroom. I locked the door, turned on the spray and collapsed on the floor of the shower.  I pulled my knees to my chest and cried. I felt stupid and pathetic, but I couldn’t stop myself.

Being with Caleb was hot and sex and sweaty and full of a combustible lust. But now that the fire had been sated, I was left with this empty hollow feeling. 

And missing Nathan more than ever.

If I didn’t know better. Well, dammit, I do.

~Clare Bowen

I worried the next day would be awkward.  But it wasn’t.  I was sitting on the couch drinking a steaming cup of coffee when Caleb strolled in, shirtless and so sexy with his sleepy eyes I almost forgot why I was crying after what happened last night and not jumping his bones again.

“Hey,” he said in a deep voice.  He sat on the couch next to me and stretched his inked arms in the air before curling one around the back of the couch behind my head.

“Hey,” I chirped back.

Caleb looked down at me and the lazy smile dropped from his face.

“Is that what you where to bed?”

I looked down at my tank-top and shorts.  I guess they were a little short. I looked back up but he wasn’t looking at me. In a quick move he grabbed me, flipped me on my back and hovered over my now prone body.  He ran a hand down my side, over my hip and down my thigh.  On the return trip up, his fingers slid under the cotton material of my shorts and grabbed my ass.

“I don’t know if one time was enough,” he murmured huskily, skimming his lips down my throat.

Jackson clearing his throat saving me from the lust haze my thoughts had descended into.  Caleb huffed and then pulled away reluctantly. 

I quickly straightened my shirt and tried to put some distance between myself and Caleb while hiding the blush I could feel painting my cheeks.

“So,” Jackson said, pouring a cup of coffee.  “Atlanta was fun.”

He grinned at us while he took a seat on the opposite couch and flipped on the television. 

“Oh yeah,” Caleb said.  I could feel his eyes on me.  “It was full of trouble.”

I swear, I could have fried an egg on my skin at how hard I blushed.  And then I couldn’t help myself.  I started giggling.  I covered my face as my shoulders shook with laughter.

I glanced over at Caleb, sure he was going to be mad at me for laughing at him.  But he was just lounging against the couch cushions with a bemused little smile on his face.  I realized then I’d never really seen him get his feathers ruffled.  He was always so cool and unaffected.

Flashes of last night and this morning flashed in my head.  Well, maybe not always so unaffected. I grinned at him and he raised one curious eyebrow.

And then I heard Nathan’s name on the TV.

All the feelings from last night slammed into me full force. My whole world stopped and I sucked in a breath.  I whipped my head around, my eyes wide as I took in his picture on the screen, along with his name.  I watched in awe as the commentators discussed where they thought he’d be in the upcoming draft.

“The ex?” I heard Caleb’s deep throaty voice.

I whipped my head back around to him, surprised. 

“What?  It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out, Angel.”

I frowned.  “I thought you said no nicknames.”

His lips stretched into a full grin and then he shrugged. Leaning forward, his grin slowly faded. He looked every bit the big bad wolf in that moment.

“I make no promises,
Ashley Parker
.”

Oh yeah
, I thought. 
Trouble is definitely my middle name.

~000~

For almost three days, I managed to avoid Caleb.  Which was quite a feat of accomplishment on a tour bus.  We’d stopped for a show in Charlotte, North Carolina before moving on to Pennsylvania for a three day festival.

I wasn’t even sure why I was avoiding him.  I hadn’t done anything wrong.  In fact, I was almost sure that Caleb would be a fun playful distraction while I was on tour.  Maybe I could even get over Nate.

But something was holding me back.  I wasn’t sure if I was just hard-wired for serious relationships or what.  And Caleb definitely didn’t do serious.  And not in the same way Nathan didn’t.  At least Nathan had dated and even had girlfriends.  Caleb had bedmates.  And groupies.

Friday night just as we were pulling into the festival, Caleb cornered me in the kitchen. He came up behind me and trapped me between his inked arms against the counter.

“Are you avoiding me, Parker?” he asked in my ear.

I didn’t answer.  I wasn’t sure what to say.  I searched my brain for something witty or flirty, but came up with nothing.  I felt him moved my hair and ghost his lips along my neck. I shivered in response.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he continued kissing my neck and murmuring against my skin.  Wet kisses. Warm breath. Over and Over. My resolve was rapidly weakening.  “Didn’t you have fun the other night?”

I swallowed hard. “Yeah, it’s just—”

I cut off with a moan when he softly bit my skin.

“Just the ex?” he asked.  His voice was completely even. No jealousy or judgment.

I nodded.

He spun me around and pressed me against the counter. He leaned his face down until we were eye to eye, our lips barely a breath apart.  His dark eyes were like two dark pools of ink. Endless night.

“That’s okay, Ash,” he whispered.  “We all have baggage and heartbreak.  Doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun, too. Right?”

I didn’t answer.  Instead I stared up at him worriedly.  Could I do that? Could I—

“I just…I don’t want to be just another girl in your bed,” I paused and then rushed on.  “Not that I want anything serious, I just mean, I—”

He silenced me with a kiss.  Long and deep and hungrily, his lips moved over mine, melding lust and desire into an irresistible concoction.

He pulled away a little and smirked, “No other girls while were fucking. Got it.”

I scowled at him.  He made it sound dirty, but his deep seductive voice had me tingling all over despite my trepidation.

He chuckled and then moved his hands to rest on my upper arms.  “It’s like this.  I like you.  You’re fun and sexy and sassy and you love music.  And I like having sex with you.  Why can’t we be friends?”

I snorted.  Friends?  I thought about it.  He was really easy to be around.  And he was a damn good guitar player.  “And how is that not a relationship? Being friends and having sex?”

He moved closer to me.  “I don’t want anything serious. Serious and relationship implies promises.  No promises, remember?”

No promises. My mind flashed back to Nathan. To the promises he’d made, and the broken pieces of me he’d left in his wake. Something like betrayal and regret and pain squeezed my heart.  I took a deep, steadying breath, trying to loosen the hold.

I thought about my dad. It was stupid to be angry with him. But a small part of me was. I needed him. And he was gone. The little girl inside me felt abandoned. Lost without his strong, sure guidance. Broken.

Maybe no promises was good. No promises meant no broken pieces. And I had nothing left to break.

I took another deep breath, pushed all the ugly emotions and thoughts away and smiled up at Caleb. “Okay, we can be friends.”

Caleb moved closer and slanted his lips over mine. His full pouty lips moved expertly over mine, melding, molding, and the tugging on mine over and over again.  Soft pressure, then the sting of his teeth, and the soothing lick of his tongue. I opened my mouth and he wasted no time in deepening the kiss, grabbing my hips and pressing our bodies firmly together.

“Oh Jesus Christ!” Mark exclaimed coming back onto the bus.  “Not where we eat!”

I blushed and Caleb pulled away chuckling.

“Come on, Casanova. We gotta get on stage.” Mark taunted and then he turned to me. He grinned widely.  “You too, little momma, we need our leading lady.”

On stage, I lost myself in the music.  The crowd was intense, all singing along and dancing and jumping and screaming my lyrics back at me.  The crowd, the rush, the adrenaline, the emotion in my lyrics, the sometimes sultry, sometimes rocking sound of Caleb’s guitar, the bone rattling beat of Mark’s drums, the harmony of the band, all collided together.  I was breathless, dizzy, and on top of the freakin’ world, drunk off the intense feelings rolling around inside me.

After our set, Caleb and Mark pulled me into the crowd, with Jackson and some other crew members following behind.  We melted into the crowd and watched and danced as other bands took the stage. 

By the time we got back to the bus, it was after four in the morning.  As much as I wanted to crash, I was sweaty and desperate for a shower.  I escaped into the shower and tore off my clothes, sighing when I stepped under the warm spray.

A few minutes later, I was softly singing to myself, when I felt Caleb’s arms slide around me and heard his deep voice in my ear, singing the words to my song, “That ignites a fire in my gut.”

I shivered, despite the steam of the shower and the heat of Caleb’s body pressed against mine.  He spun me around and lifted me into his arms, holding me against the wet tiles. My lips hovered just above his.

“Your touch,” he sang, his voice low and deep.  “Your kiss.”

His mouth met mine in a voracious kiss. Messily, our tongues and lips moved together, sliding over each other as he slide into me.

For a fraction of a second I tensed, until I realized he already had put a condom on before he’d come in the shower.

“This moment. This feeling,” he whispered the next lines of the song, singing them softly over and over again as he kissed me.

“I don’t want to wake,” he sang in a low mummer next to my ear.  “From this midsummer’s night.”

He kissed my neck, my jaw, and then my lips again, before he moved his lips to my other ear. My mind emptied of all the heartbreak, all the insecurities, all the pain and worry that had plagued me for months. In that moment all I felt was the dizzying sensation of Caleb’s hard thrusts and soft lips and deep voice in my ear.  Holding my breath, I waited for him to sing the last line.

He buried himself inside me one final time and my words whooshed out of him in a harsh breath, a murmured husky whisper that felt like both a promise and a four letter word into my skin.

“This perfect little dream.”