Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights) (6 page)

She glanced down at her attire, as if riding four buses with both thighs completely exposed was a mere afterthought. When she looked up at him again, those teeth were busy chewing away at her bottom lip, stirring his neglected male flesh. It didn’t help matters when Lita stepped closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I don’t think I should answer that in front of your mother, James.” She let out a shaky exhale. “Anyway, you…you’re wearing
jeans
.”

God, how could she make a statement of fact sound like those final strained words before an orgasm? His cock wasn’t handling the public sidewalk seduction well at all, thickening inside the restrictive denim, his balls weighed down in a hot rush. On top of his aroused state, Lita’s injury demanded his attention. Now.

“Mother, I will call you later.”

James stepped forward and scooped Lita up against his chest. Something he’d done on more than one occasion when shows got too rowdy, but it felt very different now. Instead of her protector, he was a predator carrying her away from the light. Away from normalcy, where she belonged.

“How is your father?”

He felt her breath against his neck clear down to his toes. “Awake. Alive.”

“Okay.” She laid her lips against his pulse. “Do you want to talk about why you weren’t inside when I pulled up?”

“No.” He jerked away when every instinct screamed to lean in, absorb the touch. Tell her everything. “How did you find me?”

Lita laid her head on his shoulder, running him through with an invisible sword. “I had a little help from our security team.”

“Impossible. You make their life hell.”

“Yes, I know. They might have mentioned it a few hundred times.” She exhaled, ruffling the hair at the back of his neck. The best feeling he’d had in six goddamn days. “Old News is playing two bat mitzvahs and one wedding this summer. For free. I haven’t met our new manager yet, but I doubt that will earn me a spot as teacher’s pet.”

Despite the situation with his father and knowing this moment with Lita couldn’t last, James almost laughed. “Only you.”

When they reached his Mustang, he noticed her ankle was dripping onto the sidewalk and didn’t manage to swallow the gruff sound that left him. “How could you let it get so bad?”

It took her a moment to release his shoulders when he set her down on the passenger seat. “I think…I thought if I hurt enough, you would feel it and come back. I wanted to punish you, too. For leaving.” She crossed her arms over her middle. “The only way I could do that was to punish myself.”

His hand curled into a fist on the car’s roof. “Can’t you see how wrong that is?”

“Yes. We were both a little wrong.” She held his gaze from below. “But I’m going to make it right.”

Chapter Four

Lita knew her plan was a gamble. And she used the word
plan
loosely.

For all she knew, it could make things worse between her and James. If such a thing were possible. The ride to the motel had been silent, his huge hands flexing on the steering wheel as they always did when Lita rode shotgun. Upon arrival, he’d ordered her to stay put in the passenger seat and for once, she’d put up no argument. The tension in him was a living thing as he rounded the Mustang’s bumper to jerk her door open. Then she was back in his capable arms, being carried across the twilight-draped parking lot.

“So. I think things went well with your mom.”

James said nothing, gaze glued to the motel as they approached.

“On the way here, the bus stopped at a Dairy Queen and someone thought I was Carly Rae Jepsen. Again.”

The man wasn’t amused. “You still haven’t explained what you’re wearing.”

“Be patient. I’m getting there.” Lita took a deep breath, hoping to stall until they were inside the room and he couldn’t bar her entry. She played with the collar of his T-shirt, her belly flipping at the dark chest hair peeking out. In four years, she’d never seen him shirtless and hoped that wouldn’t be the case much longer. When James set her down gently in front of a rusted, teal door and dug for the room key in his pocket, she watched the denim stretch across the bulge at his lap, the waistband dipping low. “I want to say something profound here, but I can only think of terrible pickup lines.”

“Please don’t say them.”

“Were those jeans on sale?” She pointed at the closed door. “Because I know where we can get them one hundred percent off.”

“Jesus.” He turned the key in the lock and shoved open the door. “I’m glad
you’re
getting a kick out of this.”

She gasped when he picked her up again, but recovered quickly and glanced around the basic, no frills room. “Maybe I’m just nervous.”

His stride broke just inside the door, the dark stillness enfolding them. “You’re… nervous with me.”

Lita threw her arms around his neck and held. “That’s not what I meant. Or maybe it is. But not in the way you’re thinking.”

He continued his stalk toward the bathroom, throwing on the fluorescent light and setting Lita down on the sink. “Explain.”

Now or never.
Lita opened her mouth to relay her thoughts, but James chose that moment to remove her right shoe, sending pain slicing up her calf. “
Ohh, God
.”

James dropped into a crouch to inspect the damage, alarm written across his chiseled features. It was bad. She knew the way his skin paled, the way his voice emerged strangled. “If you were trying to punish me, Lita, it fucking worked.”

Shit
. She was losing him. To anyone else, he would have appeared closed off since her arrival in town, but she knew him better than that. He’d been on the brink of finally talking to her. So she had to work fast before he retreated, risk be damned. “I wore this outfit because…I know you feel guilty about what happened that first night. So we’re going to go back and do it right.” She curled her fingers into the cotton T-shirt covering his broad shoulders, tugging, until he finally stood, watching her with a hooded expression. “Show me how you would do it differently, James.”

His gray eyes darkened, the sink groaning beneath his grip. “It won’t fix what’s wrong with me.”

“No.” She wet her parched lips. “It might fix what’s broken with us, though.”

Oh, he wanted to take the opportunity and run. There was no denying it. Not when he grew winded looking down at her thighs, her bare midriff. He’d been in check around Lita so long, resisting even her most brazen advances. Maybe it was their dynamic as musician-manager having changed, or maybe it was the feeling of isolation provided by the silent motel. But she saw his hunger, not just for her, but to replace the memory of their night together with one he could stand. One he could live with. “Have…” His throat worked. “Have you eaten?”

Lita shook her head.

James’s face remained impassive as he set to work cleaning her ankle, wiping it clean and holding a towel against the cut until it stopped bleeding. All the while, his gaze coasted up her legs, dipping to the space between where she knew the cream-colored material of her thong could be seen. She leaned back against the bathroom mirror and arched her back, letting him peruse her breasts through the awful polyester, focusing on keeping her breathing even.

When he finally spoke, his voice was so raw Lita was transported back to that night in the Los Angeles hotel. He sounded edgy. Just a hint pissed off. “Can you stand in the shower?”

“Yes.”

James nodded once. “Get clean while I find something to feed you.” He turned to leave the bathroom, but paused with one hand on the doorjamb. “If we do this, you need words. And you’ll need to remember them, Lita. I want you to say Beverly Wilshire if I need to stop. Do you understand?”

Breathe. Breathe.
“Yes, I understand.”

He nodded once, his voice dropping another devastating octave. “Put the outfit back on when you’re finished.”

Without waiting for Lita’s response, James left the room, closing the door with a decisive click. She slipped off the sink, careful not to agitate her ankle, and started the shower. As steam filled the white tile room, she looked at herself in the mirror, noticing the red staining her cheeks. The excitement dancing in her eyes. How long would it take him to touch her? Anticipation blazed through her veins, vitalizing, electrifying. A significant part of her wanted to goad James to lose control, because while he’d roared over her like a freight train during their one physical encounter, he roused something hot and dangerous. Something she’d spent four years trying to recapture, to no avail. But no. If she forced him to repeat actions he regretted, she would regret it tomorrow. Staying the course was tonight’s game plan.

She’d been in the shower for a handful of minutes when James returned, slamming the door and making her jump. She soaped herself faster, wanting to hurry and join him in the room before he changed his mind.

James walked into the bathroom.

He came to a stop inches from the glass stall, watching as the soap rinsed from her body, down to the drain. For a heavy, breathless moment, he stared at her breasts, belly, and backside. Not moving. Just when she thought he’d frozen into marble, he heaved a shaking exhale that fogged the glass and twisted lust in Lita’s belly. She swore his warm breath reached her through the barrier, the way it turned her nipples to points, forcing a moan past her damp lips.

Unsure how to proceed with this wickedly intense James of her memory, Lita turned off the shower and stepped from the stall to dry herself with a scratchy white towel, rubbing the ends of her hair to remove excess water. His cool began to slip when she stepped into her discarded skirt, dragging it up her damp legs, situating the garment even higher than usual. The material clung to her hips and buttocks like seeking hands, turning her on, readying her body.

Deciding to forgo the bra, Lita tugged the matching shirt down over her head. “Are you going to say anything?”

“Go eat,” James growled. “Before I eat you first.”

Game plan. Game plan
. Lita launched herself into the bedroom, noticing the box of donuts immediately. Of its own accord, her hand lifted to clutch at her chest, an attempt to soothe the sudden hammering beneath. “Chocolate?”

His footsteps drew up behind her. “I always wondered why you picked donuts that night. I told you I’d bring you anywhere.”

She swallowed. “You were so intimidating in your suit. I thought maybe if I saw frosting on your fingers…”

“I wouldn’t be so scary?” His hand settled on her hip, giving it a squeeze, as if testing her resilience. “It didn’t take me long to disappoint you, did it?”

Knowing from experience that her reassurances to the contrary would do no good, Lita went to the basic, wooden table and selected a chocolate donut from the box. When she took her first bite, she faced James, remembering that night how he’d watched her chew across the plastic Dunkin Donuts booth, encouraging her to eat more. That night, she’d polished off four donuts and two paper cups of room service hot chocolate before saying uncle. Now, she could barely manage to keep half the pastry down, thanks to the butterfly rave taking place in her stomach.

“You’re done?”

“Yes.” Before he could argue, she rushed to speak. “What would you have done next? If you could go back.”

He looked away on a harsh laugh before gray eyes blazed back to hers. “I wouldn’t have behaved like a sick motherfucker. Wouldn’t have made you crawl across the floor to me and beg. I wouldn’t have—” His words broke off when Lita came toward him. “What are you doing?”

She didn’t think,
couldn’t
think around the regret and pain radiating from his powerful frame. Nor could she restrain herself after hearing him
finally
acknowledge the fantasy she’d reenacted so many times in her mind. Over and over. So she went up on her bare toes and kissed his hard mouth….and…
ohhh
. Just like that, they were having their first kiss.
Good Lord.
The first taste of James was so outrageously right and delicious and sexual, she sagged against him, fingers twisting in his shirt to keep balanced. Man. He was coarse, unfiltered man. He tore his mouth away on a groan of her name before diving back in, yanking her off the floor and flush against his body.

Desperation gripped Lita when she felt his erection, a mountain of denim prodding her belly. She scrambled up his muscular body, wrapping thighs around already rolling hips, and received that first upward thrust between her legs. A pop of color decorated her vision, a montage of blinking lights. Their mouths ravaged harder, James the clear aggressor now, with Lita struggling to accommodate his hunger. Loving it. Figuring out new ways to greet his tongue, stroke it. She couldn’t get her mouth open wide enough. More. All.
All, all, all.

When James broke away, she twined her fingers in his hair to pull him back, but he evaded, drilling her with tortured eyes. “I spanked you so damn hard. You were lost…hungry. You needed help and I fucking failed you.”

“
No
. How can you say that after everything you’ve done?”

His hands roamed down her back, stopping just before her backside, clutching the hem of her shirt. “Nothing can fix it. Oh, God. You had…bruises.” He closed his eyes. “You ran away from someone who hurt you and I did the same thing. I was just another monster.”

Lita kissed his mouth until he looked at her again. “I made you leave the lights off so you wouldn’t see them.
I
did that.” Another soft kiss. “You didn’t know until the next morning. And it’s not the same.”

“Yes,” he grated against her mouth. “It is.”

“No. I enjoyed it. I…loved when you did it. The way you did it. We both wanted everything that happened. I’m sorry you don’t remember it that way.”

She didn’t realize they’d moved until her back landed on the mattress. James’s weight came down on top of her and she almost screamed at the necessity of that gravitational pressing of their bodies. Like a drink of cold water in the desert. In the sexiest move of all time, he pinned Lita with his hips and whipped the T-shirt over his head, baring his rough-hewn body. God, it was so hot, heat went straight to her clit, sensitizing the flesh, making her whimper.