Risky Rockstar: A Hero Club Novel, стр. 70

She looks hurt. Rejected. Fuck! I can’t get my mouth to move. To get her to understand that this isn’t about her.

“They’re in my toiletry bag in my suitcase. Kade, I’m sorry. I thought this might help. I thought you’d want this.”

I don’t want this. I just want you to be you.

I walk on autopilot to her suitcase and bring the bag to her. She points with her free hand to the front pocket. “They’re in there.”

I fish them out and release her, rubbing my thumbs along the red welts the metal made before throwing the cuffs on the bed and walking to the bathroom without another word.

I should comfort her—say something—but I can’t.

♫♫♫

The bathroom door closes with a click like the last tick before the bomb goes off.

It goes off.

My nervous system is running riot. Dry mouth, shaking hands, all the blood rushing to my cock while alarm bells shriek in my brain. Like I’ve seen this before, like this whole thing is on rails and I’m careening toward a wreck I’ve already had. Because I am—I did. The memories of that final night with Emily are broken glass in my chest. The sweet, broken, begging voice, the shattered look as she broke herself apart trying to be something she wasn’t and that I never wanted and not being able to stop it.

I know Hayley’s not Emily. I know I shouldn’t be feeling this, but I can’t stop the alarms going off. I can’t stop the twisted memories from coiling around me. What’s real?

Hayley on stage. That’s real. True, pure, and free, glowing with enough megawatts to light up LA. Get that close to her, you lose yourself in the shine. But it’s her—it’s all her—and sexy as all fuck…

Fuck! I handled this all wrong. I shouldn’t have left her that way. Vulnerable and feeling rejected like she was. But I can’t be there for her now.

Stripping off my clothes, I turn the shower on full blast, hot enough to boil these feelings out of me. Stepping into a cloud of steam, the scalding spray engulfs me. I run my hands up my face and through my hair, slicking it back.

What am I gonna do?

Leaning back into the corner, my cock now at half-mast, I close my eyes.

Hayley isn’t Emily, Hayley isn’t Emily.

I repeat it to myself over and over while I force my brain to think of good memories I can cling to.

Hayley embarrassed and tongue-tied with Lesley Peppers.

Hayley kissing me in the car at the light on the way back.

Hayley at my place.

Hayley on all fours in my room.

Kade, I need you to fuck me now.

A half-smothered moan ripples out of my throat, and my cock has gone from half-mast to full-on blue-steel hard in an instant.

You want to taste me, come and get me.

Her pussy on my mouth, dripping with her juices, her hips moving, writhing against my face.

My hand wraps around my rigid cock, stroking. Anything to ease the pressure; relieve the ache.

I want you inside me when I come.

Fuck, I want to see her come. Feel her body clench beneath me as I drive into her; watch the flush spread up her throat to flame in her cheeks; see her bite down on her lip and feel her nails rake along my back; watch her head fall back, eyes closed, mouth open, and hear that sound rise from way deep down inside her. That unstoppable roll and build until she peaks, goes rigid, the tight hot wet miracle of her pussy milking me.

My hand’s a blur, and I’m gonna come so sharp and hard. My vision is a red haze; the pulse in my ears is deafening, and I explode.

A gasp cuts through the haze like a gunshot.

Eyes snapping open, I see her—up against the dual sinks, wearing that oversized robe again, one hand covering her mouth and a look on her face I’d rather be dead than see there now.

“Fuck.”

The word hisses out of me, weirdly soft and horribly quiet—worse than a scream though it takes all the air from my lungs.

Frantic, she bolts from the room as it all crashes in on me.