Addiction sneaks up on you. It’s a subtle thing. You get a taste, you revel in the buzz, and then you begin to crave another hit. You know the high is temporary, but the craving is a bitch.
And I was beginning to crave Reid Crowne.
He was the perfect drug. And I never knew when the next hit was coming. Curled up on the shitty red couch in The Garage, I watched him with growing thirst. And it wasn’t just Reid, though he was enough. It was the need for his music. I’d never been so close to the process, and it was fascinating to watch. The birth of a new song, of something different and distinctly the Dead Sergeants. Sometimes they just jammed until they recognized a niche. And though some of the time they acted like clowns—especially Ben and Rye, who seemed to have a bad case of the stooges—they took their music seriously. And when it worked, my scalp prickled with awareness, my arms filled with goose bumps.
I knew, without a doubt, the band had a huge future, and I could feel it happening between them. Reid only reacted to Ben when he played. He would glance up at him when prompted but mostly just lost himself, and I loved it. After a few hours in the overheated shit hole they rented, the shirts came off. Reid tucked his in the back pocket of his jeans as he beat his drums mercilessly. I couldn’t help but to get a little bothered by the display of hungry, raw men in front of me.
Ben was beautiful; his nice guy disguise was deceiving as hell. It was what was in his eyes that spoke the truth about him. And his voice was capable of anything. I couldn’t wait for Lexi to witness what I was, front and center. In the midst of a love fest with the band and a lust fest with the oblivious drummer, reality bitch slapped me.
Paige: You have mail here.
Can I come get it?
Paige: Neil will drop it off.
Thanks.
I stared at my phone and waited. Was she reaching out? What could I say? Neil had forbidden her from doing more than talking to Reid in passing. It was bullshit, pure and simple. She was on a control trip, but she was losing. And I had a feeling Neil was getting the shit end of the stick. I’d finally called my parents. And after an hour of my father yelling at me, he passed the phone to my mother.
That was hell, but I managed to plead my case, and shortly after, I was getting angry texts from my sister. Apparently, they gave her an earful after they got off the phone with me. I can’t say I didn’t smile a little when I got her shitty excuses.
Ben sat next to me on the couch as they finished their last set. Reid was still screwing around with a back and forth he was working on for a new song.
“What’s up, beautiful? Who are you texting?”
“Not Lexi,” I answered with a grin.
He curled his lip and then leaned in. “He’s less bitchy these days.”
“I promise he’s not.” We both chuckled.
“I fucking heard that,” Reid said from his set, his eyes finally connecting with mine.
“Look at the two of you. It’s adorable,” Ben said, unfazed by Reid’s menacing tone. “I see a bright future for you kids.”
Reid stayed tight-lipped as I looked anywhere but at him. Reid started his beat as I leaned over to whisper to Ben. “We’re just stuck together in the corner.”
“Paige still giving you guys shit?” Ben asked. “Not cool.”
“It’s like I came and screwed everything up,” I said low so only Ben could hear. He nodded and then gave me a good view of his sparkling white teeth—not a single cavity. “It could be worse. You could be sleeping with Rye,” he said as he nodded his head toward him. Rye was ripping through chords, thrusting his hips as if he were screwing air. We both dissolved into quick laughter as Ben pulled me into his side. “His ex, Lia, I hated her,” he whispered. “I mean I fucking hated her. She was toxic and she played the victim. It was always about her. Always. I think you’re good for him. That wreck was her fault.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know her. And he hinted around to it, but won’t fully admit it. They were arguing. He was breaking up with her again, and she pulled the wheel. Shit, I’m busted.”
Reid glared at us from his drum set and then pointedly at Ben’s hand wrapped around my shoulder.
“Want to stop pawing her, dickhead?”
“I like it when you get all alpha, baby,” Ben cooed.
So do I.
Reid stood from his stool, his hair dripping with sweat, chest glistening, and walked toward us, pushing his arms through his shirt. He pulled me to stand as he kept his eyes on Ben. “Let’s go.”
On the way home, Reid stopped at a twenty-four-hour store so I could buy some decent shampoo and other things I’d gone without since I’d been staying with him. I’d made enough tips on our last shift to put some food in the fridge, but felt the heaviness of his steps as I continued to add to the cart. We walked the aisles silently. He was exhausted, and I was on edge. I couldn’t help the feeling I was in trouble, but his eyes told me differently when he glanced my way. But the silence remained, and I got a mere ten feet from the store when I couldn’t take it anymore.
“What?”
He continued walking and unlocked his truck, putting the bags in and taking mine from my hand when I caught up with him. He climbed in, and I had no choice but to follow. Starting the engine, he glanced over at me. I was in trouble.
“I like to keep my life private, Stella.”
“Is Ben not a close friend?”
“I just don’t like my shit talked about in the open,” he said with his hands on the steering wheel, eyes straight ahead.
I shrugged. “I didn’t start that conversation.”
“I would just really fucking appreciate it if you keep what’s between us, between us.”
“Fine,” I said, unable to argue with his posture or the tone of his voice.
He laughed, and I hated the sound of it. It was cruel. “Sure you can handle that?”
“Now you want to fight?” I snapped.
A sinking feeling hit me as he drove us back to his apartment. It was more than awkward. I couldn’t leave. Once Reid had carried the groceries in, he grabbed one of his notebooks and hit the porch.
I threw myself into cleaning, and when he didn’t come back inside, decided to bury myself in a new article. I was halfway done with “John for Mayer” when Reid came inside. I didn’t look up. I didn’t bother to acknowledge him. I just kept typing. Even when he showered and laid down on the mattress, I kept my head down. I hated my situation. I had absolutely no power, no leg to stand on. I vowed to myself then and there I would never let myself be put in the position to be at someone’s mercy, ever, for love or music.
It was as if the last of the wool was pried from my eyes. The world Reid lived in seemed ugly and cruel, and I was terrified because all I wanted to do was drown in it with him. Anger radiated through me at the helplessness and the guilt. I missed my sister. I missed my carefree life in Dallas. I missed Reid three feet away from me.
Salty tears slipped down my face and I wiped them away and kept typing. Thinking better of it, I decided to carry my crybaby ass to the porch so I wouldn’t disturb him. I pulled the buds from my ears and felt his fingers brush my ankle.
I looked over my screen to see him staring at me. “Come here.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Liar,” he said with a smug twist of his lips. “Come on, it’s late.”
“I need to check my email tomorrow,” I said, ignoring him.
“Did you save that?” he asked as his fingers brushed my calf. Every single nerve fired off and my nipples drew tight.
“Stella,” he said in a low and demanding whisper.
He reached up and closed my screen. I shot him a deadly stare. “Don’t ever do that to a writer, okay? It’s just as dangerous as cutting off a drummer’s fucking fingers.”
His low chuckle set my insides on fire, but I remained where I was as he seduced me with his lazy touch.
“But you want these fingers right now, don’t you?”
Yes. “Go to sleep, Reid.”
“Not without you, come here,” he said, inching closer, his cheek resting on the back of his hand on the edge of the mattress, a soft and predatory light in his eyes as he moved his other hand to caress my thigh.
My body betrayed me, and I sat there thoroughly seduced while his fingers drifted past the hem of my shorts. I moaned while he softly stroked the crease of my thigh, his eyes blazing.
“The Velvet Underground and Deftones,” he said on a whisper, “my favorite bands.” Breathless, I unplugged my iPod and “Change” by the Deftones sounded between us. Reid’s brows spiked as he gripped the crotch of my panties, tugging hard until I slid his way on the carpet. I felt material give and shrieked as he got me in his clutches and pulled me onto the mattress beneath him. I stared up at him in shock.
He gripped my fingers before they could reach his hair and tapped them to his temple. “You fuck me up, here,” he said hoarsely, and then put my hand flat on his chest and wordlessly pressed it there. Gripping the hem of my T-shirt, he tossed the material onto my chest before he ripped away my shorts and ruined panties. “You exhaust me. You make me tired, Stella, so fucking tired. I want you and I want to do it right, but I’m so annoyed right now. All I want to do is make you wet and fuck you until it hurts.” His fingers dipped before he leaned over me. “You keep pushing me,” he said aggressively as he flipped my bra up and slid his tongue across my nipple while he spread me wide. “You don’t want this, Stella.”
“I do,” I said as he kneeled between my thighs, gripped my ass, pulled me onto him, and thrust in deep.
Something between a scream and a moan escaped as he ripped into me, raw, primitive, and hungry. I gripped the tattered sheet as he drove in, full of punishment and warning. His intent clear, I was scared, completely terrified of what I felt for him in that moment. Because no matter how much I tried to convince myself I could get my bearings with the feelings I had for him, he brushed those bricks of resolve away like they were feathers.
It was too late.
I was in love, and he was embedded.
Teeth gnashing, he held my waist as he fucked me raw as promised, leaving bruises on my skin. Still, even with his punishment, the warmth spread. Too much to resist, he bent his head and kissed me. And we sank into it, in discovery and everything that was growing between us. Rolling his hips, he hit me deep, his length sliding against my clit. I gasped his name as he worked me, wrecked me, and I burst around him, my body shaking in release. He gripped my mouth and watched me implode, commanding my noises, my gaze. Eyes burning, he pressed his finger into my mouth, and I sucked until he pulled out, ripped off the condom, and pumped himself empty.
Breathless and lying next to each other, I couldn’t help my smile. He lay quietly, staring at the ceiling. He was thinking, heavy. I wanted to close the lingering distance between us, so I kissed his chest, and his gaze drifted to mine. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask, but his eyes told me I didn’t want to know what burned behind them.