Shane
You shouldn’t be here,” I gritted out, fighting the urge to gather Delaney’s lush body in my arms and breathe her sweet scent in deep. My hands rolled into fists as I stalked off to the shower, jaw clenched tight enough to crush diamonds. Travis had rented the nicest house in town, and after I’d spent the night in county lockup, Gavin had managed to get me assigned to home confinement. I couldn’t say anything else, couldn’t even look at her until I’d washed the stench of prison from my skin.
I should have locked the door.
“Why? Why don’t you want me here?”
I twisted the shower knob, set the water to hot as I balled up my shirt and threw it angrily in the corner. And then I turned, saw the hurt and confusion streaking across Delaney’s face. “So you can witness another shit storm firsthand?” I asked.
Her attention fell to the side, shoulders slumping as if considering defeat. But no, she straightened almost immediately, posture stiff. Not backing down, ready to fight. “As opposed to watching it play out in the media?”
My hand stilled over the top button of my jeans. “You need to forget about me.” Her flinch sent a lancing pain into my gut, and I forced myself to lower my zipper and kick my jeans away. “You should go.” Stay. Please stay.
Delaney’s eyes were fierce as she leaned against the cabinet, her hands wrapping around the edge of the stone top. “Why don’t you want me here?” she repeated.
I hesitated, exhaling a breath weighted down by frustration. Oh, I wanted Delaney. I wanted her here. I wanted her on top of me, under me. I wanted her mouth on mine, her arms around my neck as I slid into her sweet center. I wanted to taste her, hold her, lick her, fuck her.
Maybe even love her.
My cock twitched, and I stepped into the shower before she could see exactly how much I wanted her. “I might spend the rest of my life here. Get out now.” Besides, what the hell did I know about love? Even the idea was laughable. Shane Hawthorne, lovesick fool? Fool, yes. Sick, yes. But love? Hell-to-the-no.
I closed my eyes, letting the water drill into my scalp. I didn’t hear the door open or close, but I assumed she took my advice and left. The loneliness was suffocating.
Until the curtain was wrenched aside and Delaney, naked and so fucking gorgeous she took my breath away, stepped beneath the spray. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Are we real or not?”
I swallowed, trying to muster up the strength to lie. Just say no, let her walk away.
As if she could read my thoughts, Delaney spread her hands out flat on my chest, my heart racing beneath her palm. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Shane. You’ll hate yourself for it.” Those whorls of aquamarine locked onto me, a captivating chaos I couldn’t look away from.
She was right. I would. I already did. “Delaney.” My voice broke as I stared at her helplessly. She was finding every one of my fault lines with an accuracy I couldn’t comprehend, making them deeper, wider.
“What fairy-tale castle do you think you’re sending me back to, Shane? You think you’re the only one with baggage?” Delaney’s voice trembled as she slid her hands up my neck, cradling my face between her palms. “Don’t shut me out. Don’t send me away. Let me stand with you.”
I held on to the last shards of my control, barely breathing. “Do you really know what you’re getting into? There’s no way of knowing how this is all going to play out. I can’t make you any promises.” Delaney’s thumbs swept along my cheekbones as I kept my hands rigidly at my sides. There was a roaring in my ears that had nothing to do with the shower. If I touched her, I wouldn’t be able to let go. Right now I only wanted to make love to her, to sink my body so deeply into hers that we became one.
She inched closer, her nipples already tempting pebbles. “I know exactly what I’m getting into, Shane. I’m a big girl, and I can make my own choices. And today, right now, I choose you. I don’t need empty promises. In this moment, all I need is you. And I think you need me, too.”
My resolve crumbled beneath the intensity of Delaney’s stare, my chest squeezing tight. “That’s enough for you? Living day to day, moment to moment. Not knowing what’s coming next?”
In a voice laced with optimism, she answered. “When it’s all we have, yes. Let’s not throw it away just because you don’t think it’s enough.”
Delaney’s words battered at the logic that told me to end things with her until my life was figured out. Her eyes were wide open, and she wanted to stay. A frisson of hope sputtered to life, warmth racing up my spine, melting my resolve. Why was I fighting her so hard?
Delaney
With a forcefulness that took my breath away, Shane pulled me into his embrace, his lips crashing down on mine. The water sluiced over both of us, and I clung to him as if I were drowning.
“Delaney,” he groaned, tearing his mouth away from mine to stare down at me. A crooked smile tugged at his lips. “I don’t want to need you. But God help me, I do.”
Shane’s words sent an electric thrill racing along my nerves. “I’m here now,” I whispered, wrapping my arms around his neck, my fingertips threading into his wet hair. “And just what are you going to do with me?”
“Everything,” he growled into the shell of my ear, guiding me against the marble wall. Starting at the tender spot where jaw met earlobe, he kissed his way down my neck, his tongue swirling against the wet flesh until he reached my collarbone. A shiver rolled through me. “I’m going to fuck you in this shower until the water runs cold.”
I gasped, pressing against his legs, angling my hips to feel his shaft pulse against my belly. But it wasn’t enough. I reached down, wanting to wrap my fingers around him.
“Don’t.” Shane caught my wrists, gathering both of them above my head and holding them there as he took the soap in his other hand and glided it along my body, leaving a thin white film in his wake. He slid the white bar across my abdomen and down my sides, circling around my breasts. Then he moved lower, slipping along my hipbones and inner thighs. Practically boneless, I was lost in a whirl of sensation.
“You are so damn beautiful,” he said in an unfamiliar voice, husky with reverence. I wanted to say something, even just a simple “thank you,” but I couldn’t speak.
His golden eyes flashed with heat, shooting sparks at me, igniting a dozen different fires that blazed beneath the surface of my skin. Spinning me around to face the wall, Shane pressed my hands flat against the tiles as he massaged my back with the soap, caressing between my shoulder blades until I was drooping in pleasure. I gladly rested my forehead against the smooth marble, pushing back against him as he followed the curve of my ass, wanting more from Shane than soap.
Finally, he dropped the soap to the floor, threading long fingers into my hair, bunching it into a knot at the top of my head and licking at the rivulets of water sluicing down my neck. I sucked in a deep breath, fogging up tiles on my exhale.
“Shane,” I moaned.
Shane released my hair, gripping my shoulders as it fell like a wet curtain against his wrists. “I need you, Delaney,” he murmured, turning me to face him. I tilted my chin upward, Shane’s breath minty as he tugged at my lower lip, sliding his tongue along the sensitive skin.
I whimpered into his mouth, feeling something shift between us, leaving an opening I hoped would last longer than the heat of the water. Shane let go, his hands intertwining at the back of my neck. I gazed at him through the misty air wafting around us. It was as if we were in a cloud, suspended between heaven and earth, indifferent to the past or the future.
“You have me,” I said, finding my voice.
Shane drew in a shaky breath, understanding dawning in his eyes. I fitted myself against him, and this time he didn’t pull away. My soap-lathered skin slid against his, his shaft insistently pressing into my belly.
Covering my mound with his palm, Shane’s finger made its way inside my cleft, rubbing slowly, precisely. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the thick air, and I sagged against the wall, grasping hold of Shane’s broad shoulders for support.
“Please,” I begged, dizzy with want.
The look he offered was so open and sweet I felt flayed, my heart raw. If he hadn’t been holding me up, I would have easily lost my balance. Aching with need, I kissed Shane with all the pent-up hopefulness that had been accumulating inside of me since we first met.
“Please Shane, now.”
A grin broke across Shane’s face as he lifted me upward, settling my thighs around his hips. Impatient, I clung to him, encircling my ankles and pulling him tightly against me.
Resting his forehead against mine, Shane reached between us to align his engorged shaft with my entrance. I was hot, hotter than the water still flowing over us. He pushed into me with a low growl, sucking the tender skin of my shoulder as he held me against the wall.
Bare, wet skin.
Thick steam.
Hot water.
God, this man.
Shane released his grip on me, gravity sheathing him completely. I squealed, biting down on his neck as I clung tight. “You feel so fucking good,” he said, his voice rough as he glanced down to the place our bodies met. A piece of him at home inside of me.
“I know, baby.”
“No. You don’t.” His shook his head. “Nothing’s ever felt this good. No one.” There was a tremor in his voice that shook me to the bone. “Just you, Delaney. Just you.”
I wanted to respond, to reassure, but I was incapable of forming complete sentences. Shane began moving again, pulling out until I was ready to cry from the loss. Pushing back in slowly. Shane’s deliberate movements, the words coming out of his mouth…too much. Excruciating. I rocked my hips forward, energy rippling through me. “I want…I want…” Tears stung my eyes, my body shaking.
“Can’t believe you’re here. Can’t believe you fucking stayed,” he muttered against my neck as he finally gave up the last of his control, holding nothing back as he slammed me against the wall.
Breath punched from my lungs as he filled me, thrusting deep and fast. Tiny spikes of pleasure chased a path to my center, forming a thick knot that churned and grew. This was what I wanted. No—what I needed. To be filled by Shane. Not just my body. My heart was full to bursting. Maybe it wouldn’t last much beyond the length of our shower, but for now I knew Shane was with me, really with me—and not just because I was the right size and shape to fill a void in his life. He wanted me, and he was proving it with every delicious kiss and passionate thrust. Every whispered admission.
We moved in unison, both of us rocketing toward our ultimate goal: paradise.
That knot compressed, growing tighter, denser. Heavy as lead.
Until it exploded, taking me up, taking me away. I closed my eyes and there was no darkness. Only light.
I came to earth as Shane shuddered and jerked inside me. I nuzzled against his straining neck. We clung to each other, chests heaving as we gulped down the steam-thick air.
The water finally running cold.
Shane
The rental house was fairly large and new enough. Selfishly, I was glad Delaney had chosen to stay.
Selfish, selfish, selfish.
Even so, the walls were closing in on me. But I couldn’t leave, not unless I’d rather spend the next few months awaiting trial in a jail cell.
Our tour had been canceled. Our label was having a fit. The guys were bored and pissy, stirring up trouble of their own back in L.A. I couldn’t even record with them because—even if I were allowed out of the damned house—there wasn’t a single recording studio in Clark County.
My fans were my biggest defenders. There was an online petition, hundreds of Facebook groups and Twitter accounts popping up. They all wanted to #SaveShaneHawthorne.
As if anyone could do that.
The prosecution was pushing for another deposition. Mike Lewis’s people were pushing for another interview. People, US Weekly, TMZ, Radar Online, National Enquirer were all here, their reporters crawling all over town. I couldn’t turn on the TV or scroll through my phone without seeing someone claiming to be my best friend or former girlfriend. Some I recognized. Most I didn’t. Some of what they said was true: I was a loner, ditched school whenever I could, cared only about one thing—making music. Everything else could have come out of a script for a teen drama on the CW.
But at the heart of it all, the truth was staring me in the face.
Caleb was dead.
Because of me.
Call it an accident. Call it a crime. His death was the only fact that mattered.
The dining room of the rental house was filled with too many people, tension as dense and obvious as the smog back in L.A. Travis and Gavin, of course, plus the legal team they’d assembled on my behalf. My publicist had brought two assistants. Piper was in the corner, her face rapt with attention, fingers tapping on the keyboard of her laptop as she took notes. Everyone was plotting and planning and strategizing.
Getting nowhere fast.
I stalked out of the room, disgust oozing from every pore, my boots thudding up the stairs. “Hey.” I poked my head into the bedroom.
Delaney was reading a book with a half-naked guy on the cover. I arched an eyebrow. She’d come apart in my arms barely an hour ago. “Am I not enough for you? You need a book boyfriend?”
A soft laugh floated my way as she set it aside. I fucking needed to bottle that sound. “You’re the only boyfriend I need,” Delaney said, the look on her face one she reserved solely for me. I fucking loved that, too.
I hurled myself onto the mattress beside her, the book bouncing to the floor. She didn’t seem to notice, curling up against me and resting her head on my chest. “What’s wrong?”
I would have given anything to shield Delaney from all this, but I couldn’t. There was just so damn much shit. “You mean, besides everything?” I asked, releasing a pent-up breath that sent dark strands of Delaney’s hair skittering across my chest.
“That really narrows it down for me,” she murmured, her palm sliding over me to curl around my shoulder, her thumb sweeping along my neck, lingering over my pounding pulse.
It was getting late, darkness seeping in through the open windows. Only one lamp was lit, on Delaney’s side of the bed. We lay in silence for a while, voices from the dining room drifting upstairs, although I couldn’t discern individual words. “It’s frustrating being stuck here, waiting for Gavin to figure out the legal end of things. For Travis to do his fucking job.”
Delaney’s head lifted, her brows pushing together over the question marks shining from her eyes. “I understand your brother’s role in all this. But what do you mean about Travis? Isn’t he in a holding pattern until all this is resolved?”
“Exactly. He’s supposed to resolve it. All of it,” I shot back.
“But…” Her words dragged. “How can he—”
“Because that’s what Travis does. He makes my problems disappear.”
Delaney jerked back, a flash of distaste streaking across her features.
“What?” I asked, instantly on the defensive.
“What?”
“That look.”
Her face pinched, eyes sliding away from me. “What look?”
I caught Delaney’s jaw between my fingers, waiting until she was looking my way again. “Like the opinion you’re holding back tastes like dirt. You might as well spit it out, because it’s threatening to burst through your lips.”
She pulled away and rolled to the side, studying her fingernails as if the answer were written in nail polish. “Is that really what you want?”
I seethed. “For this to all be over so I can get out of this house and back onstage? Yeah, that’s what I want.”
“No. I just mean…” Delaney wavered, drawing her lower lip between her teeth as she decided how much to say. Finally, she let go, exhaling a frustrated sigh that reverberated through me. “Do you really want a buffer between you and every unpleasant aspect of your life?”
My shoulders bunched together at the nape of my neck. “Travis is my agent.”
Delaney shook her head, her still-damp hair undulating in dark waves down her arm. “No, he’s not.” Her tone was firm. “He’s your fixer.”
Every fiber of my being rebelled against the truth behind Delaney’s certainty. And yet I couldn’t deny it. I grabbed at the bottom of a curl, pulling it straight and letting go, watching it spring right back. Reached for another one.
She took my hand, holding it between her own. “Shane, I think you need to talk to them.”
I shuddered. “I’ve been down there for the past hour. They’re too busy listening to the sound of their own voices to bother listening to me.”
“No. Not them.”
I shifted, rolling onto my side and propping my head on my palm. “You don’t mean…”
Delaney nodded, dragging her fingertips over my ink. The barbed wire. The screaming gargoyles. The little boy. She lifted her sad gaze to mine. “Yeah,” she said. “I do.”
I ran my tongue over my front teeth, absorbing the impact of her words, each one burning my skin like acid. “They won’t want to talk to me.” Wind gusted through the branches of the tall maples surrounding the house, rustling their leaves.
“I bet that’s exactly what they want,” she said softly. “You were the last person to see their son alive.”
I could barely stay still under her patient gaze. “Because I’m the guy who killed him.”
Delaney didn’t flinch. Her hand slid up my chest, fingers threading into my hair. “Stop saying that. It was an accident. They’re still grieving, and they should know you are, too. That you didn’t forget about him.”
She found the C etched over my heart, planting a kiss on the bleeding letter. “Talk to them. Explain about the drinking. Let them know that you’ve never forgotten about their Caleb.”
“What if they don’t want to see me?”
“What if they do?”
Reluctance bristled along my skin like velvet rubbed the wrong way. I sucked in a deep breath, blowing it out through pursed lips. “Maybe I’ll give it a try.”
Shadows danced on the walls as the sun slid lower on the horizon. “So, if you—” Delaney cut off.
“If I what?” I prompted.
“Well…Not that it’s going to happen, but if you were—” She stopped, restarted. “If things here don’t go your way, would you let me visit you?”
“You mean, in prison?” I asked, not really needing clarification as much as a second to gather my thoughts. Every cell in my body was screaming in protest. “No. I wouldn’t want you to visit,” I admitted, shaking my head.
“Why not?” she demanded, her body tense.
I lifted a hand to her face, running my knuckles along the plane of her jaw. Studying the perfectly symmetrical set of her features, her flawless skin. Delaney Fraser was the Gerber baby, all grown up. I had to make her understand, even if it hurt her feelings. How could I survive being locked up if she could come see me but I couldn’t touch her? Couldn’t run my fingers through her hair, smother her with kisses, make love to her. How could I watch Delaney walk away from me, iron bars holding me back, and not go crazy? “If I go to jail, you have to forget about me. Your father is your blood. I’m not. If I go to prison, promise me you’ll forget about me. About us.”
Her voice was a husk of itself. “I could never forget you, Shane,” she breathed. “Ever.”