Twisted (Delirium #1) (6 page)

“Five minutes and ewwww I work here.” Chuckles burst around us.

“Done.”

My pulse banged in my ears, a lump formed in my throat. They’d gone completely insane. I shook my head in disbelief. Bets smirked as she stashed the wad of ill-gotten loot in the can. “Nice doing business with you, Mr. Douglas. Next time it’s gonna cost you.”

“I’ll make sure to bring my banker next time.”

Bets relocated to stand beside me and reached beneath the register. She set a white timer on the counter. “She’s all yours, Twisted Nickel.”

“Twisted Nickel?” Caleb asked.

She shrugged. “It made sense in my head.”

He chuckled and made his way to me as though nothing weird had gone down, like he hadn’t bartered for my time in a room filled with paparazzi determined to spread my business across the world because I’d somehow become the yummiest thing going since Nutella.

“Okay people. You’ve got five minutes to show me the money. For all you cheap asses, line ‘em up over to the right and I’ll handle y’all now. There ain’t much I can’t answer about the two of them and their history.”

“Oh really?” Caleb whispered against my cheek as he ran his hand along my side. “Your girl seems pretty confident she knows everything. Does she?”

I waited until he’d dragged me through the double doors, down the hall and pressed me against the wall of the barely-there break room to settle my hand on his chest. Anticipation threaded through me. “She’s my BFF.”

“I guess I’d better get to work on giving you some more to share.” He lifted me up and suddenly we were moving. Cold metal pressed against my thighs as he placed me on the lone table. Pleasure danced across my flesh wherever his fingers stroked, pinched and teased their way along my body.

Our tongues, tangled, dueling for control I knew would never exist between us. Even though he hadn’t said so, he was as twisted up in whatever existed between him and me as I was.  Cool metal pressed against my ass when he lifted my skirt.

I grabbed at his belt, and fumbled with the button on his jeans. I growled my frustration. “No more buttons.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I shivered when he breathed along my neck and drew my panties down. “No more underwear.”

“Yes, sir.” Deft fingers slid across my pussy.

“So wet for me.”   I worked at his buttons again, but he stilled my progress. “Don’t. Next time.”

I gasped when he plunged two digits into me. Thrusting myself against his hand shamelessly, I grabbed for him and claimed his mouth. Each powerful thrust fueled my need, commanded my body. Desire spiraled through me, threatening to consume me whole. I clutched Caleb. Lost within the whirlwind of need he’d swept me into, I ceded full control to him.

“Caleb.”

My muscles tensed beneath the onslaught of pleasure rippling through me. Memories of last night tumbled through my mind as I fucked his fingers, wishing he’d given me more, craving more than five hastily-turned minutes ticking away on an egg timer run by a well-meaning BFF with a goddess complex reigning over a village of paparazzi with me as the sacrificial focal point.

Even though I knew vultures loomed a mere couple hundred steps from where we were, I clung to the brief euphoria Caleb dragged out of me with each sensuous glide of his fingers into me. Unable to hold out any longer, I soared into the haze whitening out the intruding reality awaiting me.

I basked in the delirium as he swallowed my cries of pleasure with a hungered need flowing smoother than a shot of top-grade tequila, slow and hot. Battling to return to a steady diet of breath in, breath out, I severed the kiss and allowed myself to tumble into his heated gaze.

The intensity in the gray depths held me over the edge. I clung to him as he kissed me softly, licking along my lips. His raspy voice slid through me. “I can’t wait to get you alone, taste you again. I woke needing to feel your release on my tongue, and you weren’t there.”

I gasped when he nipped my ear.

“Why did you run, Shas?”

“I-I didn’t.” The denial seemed weak, even to me.

“You tip toed out on bare feet, clear to the lobby.”

How did he know?

“Babe. You tip toed past concierge and the doorman. Manual was quite helpful describing you all the way down to your sexy pink toenails.” He tugged my hair. “You gonna answer me?”

“Thinking I’ll answer once you answer me.” I ran my hand down his chest and bunched the material covering his chest in my fist. “Why are they bloody?”

His gaze locked with mine as he kissed me gently again. Damn. The man ignited my blood and imploded my brain. I whimpered my need as he drew away.

“Tonight. After our date.”

Erm. What?
“We have a date?”

Remnants of my arousal coated the fingers of his other hand when he drew away. Heat rose in my face as he drew them to his mouth and sucked. His moan shivered me to the core. My body pulsated with a need to possess him. 

“Let me know what you want for dinner, because I know what I’m having for dessert.” With the parting douse of fiery anticipation, Caleb tugged his shirt out and pulled it over the prominent bulge in his pants. “Til later, Shas. Try and behave. You’re mine the moment your sexy toes hit the sidewalk.”

It was the second time he’d mentioned my toes. I curled them, contemplating if he had a foot fetish. I didn’t get feet. Truth told, I hated them enough to wish mankind didn’t need them. The fact he might be my polar opposite and have some innate fascination with them left me rendered mute for a moment. Could I handle his potential desire to worship my little piggies?

He blinded me with a knowing grin and I had my answer.

I could handle anything Caleb Douglas wanted me to.

“Later.” He licked his fingers one last time, a parting reminder of the pleasure he’d given me—a tantalizing promise of what might be in store for me later. I’d never been a dessert. 

I collapsed on the table the moment he left. What the hell happened? Confusion rattled alongside long-denied passion. Despite knowing I had no business getting twisted around Caleb Douglas again, I had zero desire to halt whatever the hell this steam truck running over me was. I hadn’t realized how numb I’d become until last night.

Now I was on fire, burning with a need to inhale every sweet, wanton moment I could with him. Shit as intense as what I felt for him couldn’t last long. I was a rocket burning in the Earth’s atmosphere. Sooner or later, I’d go down in a blaze. I chuckled at all the pathetically coined phrases streaming through me.

Whatever.

Though I’d rather remain tucked away in my pocket of euphoria, I had a café full of paparazzi who’d witness my spiral into the haze of Caleb Douglas. I had a walk of shame to do in his wake, and a shed load of questions waiting.  Oh yeah, and I was pretty sure Pete would have something to say about what went down because what I’d done in the break room coupled with the fact Caleb had even been here in the first place was about as far from letting the dust settle as I could get.  The so-called dust storm was a full blown haboob, and I couldn’t wait to find out where it was taking me.

My pink-tipped toes hit the sidewalk twenty minutes after I got off work. Thanks to Bets I managed to commandeer a SBD—aka sexy black dress—with peep toe stilettos I was certain I lacked the coordination to pull off. I glanced left, then right down the normally desolate stretch of Main Street to find half the town meandering.

The fact they leered in my direction awoke my paranoid side. I didn’t realize I still had said emotional beast within me, but I did. My skin crawled and I shivered as a heavy, thick blanket of dread and doubt smothered me.

The self-loathing stew I’d swallowed regularly years ago boiled to the surface. I’d held reality at bay long enough. I roved the staring crowd with my unsteady gaze once more and noted the inaudible conversations. I felt every word.

I didn’t deserve him. I never had.

They all knew. He left before. They were waiting, watching. Wanting it to happen again, because we all knew it would.

Panic attacks had been a nemesis of mine back in the seventh grade, when the little brothers of my bigger brothers’ so-called friends took it upon themselves to welcome me to junior high with routine pranks and general asshattery. Fortunately, the panic attacks had gone away when Caleb and a few of his friends fertilized the practice field with their blood one day after school.

“Hey.”

I inhaled his musky cologne as he squeezed my arm and leaned into my personal space. I tumbled into the confidence lingering in his grey eyes and took a panicky breath or two before my brain rebooted and activated the what-the-hell-are-you-freaking-for program it stored for such occasions.

The same look of possessive rage from back in junior high crawled through his gaze as he studied me a moment before looking up and down the road. His jaw twitched as he stood his full height and wrapped an arm around me. When I shivered he paused and slid his leather jacket off, wrapping me up in it before herding me to the waiting Hummer.

The interior was warm and welcoming—a heady shot of all male in sleek, dark lines and rugged interior countered by soft seating. I sank into the vehicle, the privacy it offered with the limousine-blackened windows. My pulse quickened when he shut his door and settled into the driver’s seat beside me.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” I closed my eyes, partially in shame for allowing the side of me I’d thought exorcised out to play. The other part hadn’t accepted the firm grasp Caleb still had on me. Deep, deep down nothing had changed. I’d always been his. I’d maintained the belief he’d be mine again. And here he was—batting back the demons, in this case paparazzi and nosy town folk, the way he always had.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but I’ve got my people working on containment. Things should die down in a couple of days.”

He had people. Huh. The fact shouldn’t surprise me, but it proved the foolishness in my belief he was the same as he’d once been. A man with people couldn’t be the small-town football hero who’d fled White Bluffs to chase his rock star dream. Could he?

My heart and soul burned in a resolute yes while my weary mind grumbled it didn’t much care anymore. Whatever. I’d let me inner hussy continue to steer the treacherous waters of indecision because she had a way of letting shit bounce off her—she was Teflon coated with armor protectant.

God, I’m not even making sense.

I sighed my weariness and looked out the window. We’d been moving for a few minutes in a comfortable silence. There wasn’t much on this side of White Bluffs—past the broken bridge, over the hill due west.

When we made the turn I forced the question out even though I already knew the answer when we halted at a massive stoned entrance. A couple shadowy figures worked to open the huge double gates. “Where are we going?”

“Where the media can’t follow.”

Flashbulbs flickered small glimmers of light fracturing the otherwise settling darkness. The last time I’d been out here hadn’t gone well. Adrenaline activated and my fight or flight response screamed
Run, for the love of all things Caleb, Run!

The tormented shards of doubt shoved into me years ago by the woman within the house slid through my veins like a presence I’d never fully expelled. They’d never accept me. Hell, they’d been so determined to get him away from me they’d probably packed his bags.

He reached over and squeezed my hand when he settled the vehicle into park. “Relax, this was their idea.”

Sure. Yeah. Right.

The proverbial moth wandering into a volcano, I unlatched my seatbelt and chose to exit my safety vessel of my own accord. If I was going to be torn from limb to limb, I wanted to face my opponent head on. Or, in this case head to chest because, Jesus, Caleb’s crew was tall.

I swallowed a lump of doubt in my throat and stared at the smiling older couple heading our direction with arms outstretched. The fear swallowing me whole, drowned in the sea of ecstatic joy as Caleb hugged his mother and kissed her cheek softly. His dad slapped him on the back and drew him into a rough embrace which moved them both a couple of feet back. Although no words were spoken between the two men, moisture pooled in my eyes when I noted Mr. Douglas’s unshed tears.

I’d never been on their approved list, but Caleb’s parents were the cream of the crop. Everyone said so. I never held their thoughts of me against them, though, because I would’ve been judgmental had I been them. The daughter of an absentee father and drunken mother didn’t scream perfect for their youngest son, especially since my three older brothers had spent every waking second of their existence pushing the grey space between legal and jail-time to a new shade of dark.

Light from the porch of the sprawling one-story ranch home cast pale yellow rays on the embracing family. Talk about awkward. I practiced my flamingo style stance, moving my weight from one foot to another to keep the heels of my borrowed heels from pressing into the damp ground. 

This was such a bad idea it had its own zip code in the Never, Ever Do book. Mrs. Douglas fixated on me first. Breaking away from the hug, she headed my direction with a grimmer smile on her face. I darted a hesitant glance at Caleb, but he was still caught in a hushed conversation with his father.

“Mrs. Douglas, nice to see you.” I tugged on the short, black fuck-me dress Bets had sworn would make the evening perfect. Yeah, not so much. The sentiment behind the borrowed clothing wouldn’t pass muster beneath a mother’s scrutiny.

I sensed a conversation with Father Ramirez in my future. It was an established fact he was number two on Mrs. Douglas’s speed dial (even though she was Baptist) when it came to me. Sherriff Hickens was number one because a Catholic raised by a drunken mom was surely destined to sour the interior of White Bluffs’ lone jail cell.

Guess she’d been right. It hadn’t been White Bluffs, but I’d served my penance in the slammer. I should snag a copy of the pic Bets had taken and give it to Hickens. He deserved a memento, even if it’d taken seven years to happen. 

“Shasta, dear. It’s been too long.” She faux kissed each cheek and squeezed my arms. Her eyebrows rose as she noticed Caleb’s jacket on me. Past experience with her taught me my overexposed cleavage, which the coat covered, screamed I’m-here-to-corrupt-your-son. I was okay with her scorn of all things leather because accepting a misdemeanor transgression on the mother approval scale to mask a felony grade offense was an acceptable trade off in the art of lover combat.

Right?

“Dinner’s ready. I’m afraid we’re running a bit behind.” She glanced at her watch. “Saul, why don’t you pour the wine? Caleb, go find your brothers. I believe they’re out in the barn. Shasta and I will handle the meatloaf.”

My stomach rumbled. Douglas meatloaf was a legend within its own right. Many deemed its consumption as a gift of the gods, a rite of passage into the inner sanctum of approval. “I’m sorry if Caleb sprung me on you. I thought we were eating at Hal’s.” I mentioned the lone eatery in White Bluffs proper—i.e. locally owned establishments embraced by traditional residents.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind, but I called Caleb and suggested you two have dinner out here. It’ll give us a chance to catch up and we can keep the prying eyes out.” She paused on the first stair and turned toward me. “You know, dear, I never have apologized for what all I said the last time you were here. I listened to people who had no idea what a lovely girl you are. I’ve noticed how hard you’ve worked and all you’ve done for people around White Bluffs these past few years. Pete sings your praises every chance he gets. I should’ve realized what a good influence you were on our Caleb. You ground and balance him.”

I looked down where she squeezed my hand. So many of the words she’d spoken boomeranged in my head. Me? A good influence? I grounded
our
Caleb? Had zombies arrived in White Bluffs and sucked everyone’s brains into a new world?

Years of my misspent formative years operating within the shadows of my questionable brothers proved I was so imbalanced I teetered on the brink of troubled, according to some. How could I balance anyone?

I looked up and forced a smile. “I’m so glad to be here.” I was so wishing I wasn’t there. Fortunately for Mrs. Douglas even I—the imbalanced one—realized my inability to walk in my borrowed footwear made vaulting over their seven-or-so-foot fence and sprinting across their cow pasture impossible.

I followed her into the living room, feeling much like a prisoner must on execution day. Wasn’t there a song? Something you could hum as you glumly accepted what you couldn’t change. There should be. Maybe Caleb could write one.

He’d written songs about family, songs about friends. Twisted Delirium even wrote a song for Bets. Though I couldn’t ever acknowledge its existence. BFF rule book number twenty-one. I was confident Chaz and Ace had more to do with Sexy Psycho than Caleb. White Bluffs barely survived the three months the song rode the top of the charts. BFF code aside, it was a killer song.

The Douglas home wasn’t what I remembered. Dark, gorgeous wood replaced the rotted boards. The floodlights accentuated the gleaming painted exterior of the home. As we walked in, my shoes tapped along gorgeous stone flooring. Furniture worthy of a fancy magazine filled the expanded living room.

“It’s stunning,” I whispered.

Pink tinged Mrs. Douglas’s cheeks as her gaze swept the room. “Well, Caleb insisted on doing this. We assured him we didn’t need anything fancy, flat out refused the new house he wanted to build. Saul’s family has lived in this house way before White Bluffs was a settlement, much less a booming town smothered by city folk from Austin.”

Pete was right. Caleb had done well by his folks. Warmth flowed through me as I smiled. Everything my gaze swept across as we made our way through the hallway and entered the pristine, new kitchen with state-of-the-art appliances shouted one emphatic truth—my Caleb still existed. Every immaculately placed item and surface resonated with love, a need to nurture and protect those he cherished. Loved.

My heart palpitated a moment when I imagined being within his bubble, sealed into his protective warmth. I’d had the comfort, the security of Caleb once, and its loss struck me full force under the intensity of the past day. He hadn’t been in my life again more than twenty-four hours and I was deeper in love with him than ever. How the hell was I supposed to walk away from all the what-ifs when he left? 

Errant tears trekked down my cheeks and I swiped at them with a dart of my fingers. Tonight wasn’t about me. Caleb, the prodigal rock star son was home. Everything about the elaborate place setting and excited voices booming from the living room resonated celebration.

“Hey. You okay?” His breath feathered my earlobe as he hugged me close from behind.

I closed my eyes. No.
No I’m nowhere near okay and I have zero clue how to survive when you leave me again
. The response remained tucked within the deepest, darkest part of my soul—the one place I’d let only one person. He had the key to wander around and dredge the secrets stored away there because I’d never kept anything from him, no matter how horrid or shameful.

He was the other half of my soul. Though I knew the completed me wrapped in his embrace would soon be torn into a million little pieces and spread across the globe as Caleb did whatever rockers do, I couldn’t help but celebrate the fact I was once again whole. For the first time in seven years I was Shasta Monohan and I loved Caleb Douglas with every fiber of my being. As pathetic and lame as it might be, I didn’t care much what anyone thought—even his parents.

Tonight I’d share the part of me I reserved for him with them because it meant something to him. In the morning when he left for the bright lights of fame and fortune, I’d crawl back into the vault I’d made for myself and hunker down. Heal.

“You’re a million miles away, Shas. You okay?” He squeezed me tight and I forced a smile despite the raging storm of anguish looming on the horizon.

“I’ve never been better. Let’s eat. I’m starving.” I hugged him tighter to me and lowered my voice. “I’ve never had your mom’s meatloaf.”

“I asked her to make it for you.” He turned and feathered soft kisses across my cheeks.

Unable to handle whatever his words meant, I powered forward and headed into the kitchen. Escaping the heady warmth drifting through me whenever he was around was the only grip I maintained on my sanity.