Текст книги "Hot Ticket"

Автор книги: Olivia Cunning

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

He scowled and watched the band play the next song while he contemplated Aggie’s words. What did love look like anyway? What did it feel like? He’d thought he’d experienced it a few times. His parents. The first girl he’d ever fallen for. His band. And his more recent feelings for Aggie. Was any of it really love? Was all of it love in different forms? He didn’t know. He had nothing to judge by. But he was lonely—always lonely. Even in a crowd. But not when Aggie was near.

He turned to look at her and found her dancing to the music. He grinned. “Having a good time?”

“Yeah, this song is great. I have to get a copy of your CD.”

“I could probably get you one for free.”

“Will you autograph it for me?”

“Maybe.”

He watched her sensual movements as she danced with her arms extended over her head. She was definitely a professional dancer. She used her body like a piece of moving art. He wondered if she missed her job. Her home. Her life. Was her mother really that horrible? He supposed he wasn’t the only one with family issues. And yes, his father had been cruel, but at least he’d known him. Aggie had never met her father.

Aggie shrieked in surprise when Jace wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap.

“You’re distracting the roadies from their work,” he said close to her ear.

She glanced around. “I don’t think anyone is watching.”

“Maybe I wanted an excuse to hold you.”

Her smile melted the cold lump in his chest that he was starting to recognize as his heart. She wrapped both arms around his neck and hugged him.

“Are you worried about leaving your mother in charge of your house?” he asked.

“She’s probably burned it to the ground by now. I try not to think about it. No sense in worrying myself sick over things I have no control over.”

He really wished he could live life by her model. “True.”

“And I have great insurance, so I can just build a new house.”

“But we have great memories in that dungeon.”

She slid her fingers into his hair and kissed him. “We can make some new memories in this chair.”

“You do owe me a lap dance.”

He hadn’t expected her to take him seriously. The band had just begun to play their one and only ballad, “Good-bye Is Not Forever.” It had a deep, sultry beat. He loved playing this song live. Jon didn’t do it justice, but Jace was trying very hard to ignore every lost opportunity to enrich the bass line, add body to it, subtly support the guitars and the drums without drawing attention to the fill. Truth be told, Jace was trying very fucking hard to ignore Jon entirely. The lighting was always kept dim for this song, so the side of the stage was bathed in darkness. Jace wished he could see Aggie better as she used his body for her prop throughout her sensual dance. Her hands and body brushed over him as she moved around him, behind him, over him, on him. His eyes drifted closed, and he concentrated on the sensation. The woman. He knew he had to get his shit together, or she’d get tired of him shutting her out. He hadn’t been afraid of being alone for a long time—not since he’d been a kid. But now? He couldn’t imagine a day spent without Aggie. He didn’t want to.

When she slid into his lap backwards, he wrapped both arms around her waist and held her close. She tried to get up, but he tightened his hold.

She hesitated briefly and then relaxed. He pressed his face against her shoulder and inhaled her scent.

“You okay?” she asked after a moment.

He knew he was trembling, but he couldn’t stop. “Yeah,” he whispered.

She covered his hand with hers and squeezed reassuringly.

“Why are you so good to me?” he asked. “All I do is push you away.”

“You’re not pushing me away now.”

That was true. Even though he knew he should, he couldn’t let go. And though her body was pressed against his from shoulder to shin, he wanted her closer. Physically. And emotionally. Did that mean he loved her? His heart rate picked up. “Are you going to leave me after you fix me?”

Why had he asked her that? He didn’t want to know. He needed to hang on to the moment. Stop worrying about the past. Stop fretting over the future. That’s what she gave him. She gave him now. That’s all that should be important to him, but it wasn’t.

“Why would I do that?”

“Sometimes I think I’m your current pet project, and as soon as it’s over, we’ll be over.”

“That’s hurtful, Jace.”

Hurtful? His brow crinkled with confusion. “Why?”

“Because you think I have some ulterior motive. It’s not enough for me to let you know I care. You question it. Cheapen it.”

“I don’t mean to. I just…” He took a deep breath.

“Just what?”

“I just don’t want you to leave.” After he said it, he felt so blatantly exposed, he wished he could take it back.

She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. “No chance. You are stuck with this crazy bitch whether you like it or not.”

He laughed, the tension draining from his body, and squeezed her tightly. “I like it.”

She relaxed against him and let him hold her while they watched the concert. Halfway through the set, Brian was left alone onstage to entertain the crowd with his guitar solos. The rest of the band filtered offstage and surrounded Jace’s chair.

“Did you see that super-fine chick in the front row?” Jon said excitedly. “She couldn’t take her eyes off me. I’ve got to get me some of that tonight.”

“I’m sure she was looking at Sed,” Trey said, lifting the neck strap of his guitar over his head and handing the instrument to a roadie. He chugged half a beer and chased it with a bottle of water.

“Yeah, she was looking at me, Jon-boy,” Sed said, chomping on red licorice to keep his vocal cords lubricated, “but I’m on the wagon. No pussy for me until we get back to LA.”

“Five weeks with no pussy?” Jon burst out laughing. “You? Sure, Sed. That’s possible.”

Sed crossed his arms over his chest resolutely. “That’s right. Three more weeks. It’s already been almost two.”

Trey laughed and pounded Sed on the back. “Jessica will never walk again.” Trey sat on Aggie’s lap, squirming to crush her into Jace. “This chair is so fuckin’ lumpy.”

Aggie chuckled and wrapped her arms around Trey’s waist.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Oh, sorry, Aggie. Didn’t see you there.” Trey leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankle.

Crushed beneath them, Jace couldn’t draw a decent breath. “Damn, Aggie, have you gained weight?” His quip earned him an elbow in the ribs.

Eric came to stand with the group. He pulled his sweat-drenched shirt off and tossed it in Trey’s face.

Trey swatted it to the floor. “For that, I suggest you don’t go to sleep tonight, Sticks.”

Eric took a long drink of water and then upended the bottle over his head. He shook his head like a wet dog, sending droplets of water and sweat flying in all directions. “What? You gonna hurt me?”

“You should be so lucky,” Trey said.

Eric continued his public shower and then patted himself dry with a hand towel before donning a clean shirt.

Trey was now watching Brian onstage. “He gets better and better, doesn’t he?”

“Dude, my legs are falling asleep,” Jace complained, trying to dislodge Trey from the top of the pile by squirming. “Get off.”

“You hear something, Aggie?” Trey asked.

“Nope. I’m too fat to hear anything.”

Jace’s heart stuttered. Had he hurt her feelings? She was perfect. How could she possibly think he had been serious when he’d asked her if she’d gained weight? He slid his hands between Trey’s back and Aggie’s stomach, pulling her securely against his chest.

“You’re not fat,” he whispered into her ear. “I meant Trey was heavy.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“But that’s what I meant. It was a joke.”

“Since when do you joke around, Jace?”

Since I started to believe that I can bemyselfwhenI’m with you. But he couldn’t say that. Not with Trey sitting right there. His jaw clenched as emotion threatened to bubble to the surface. “Whatever.”

“If you two are gonna argue, I’m going to join Brian onstage.” Trey removed himself from Aggie’s lap and settled his red electric guitar in place. He was crossing the stage before Jace could take a decent breath.

Aggie didn’t try to remove herself from his lap, but her body was stiff and unyielding.

He kissed her shoulder, not knowing what to do to make her forgive him for his offhand comment. He thought she was perfect. And even if she were fat, he wouldn’t have cared. He would love her no matter what she looked like. Should he tell her things like that? That he loved her no matter what? His throat closed off. He was panting again. He couldn’t get a grip on himself. Not since he’d told her about his mother. Told her things he’d never told anyone. Things he’d never admitted even to himself.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He figured he’d said it too quietly for her to hear over Brian and Trey’s guitar duel, but her body relaxed into his, and she squeezed his hand. “I’m glad,” she said.

They watched in silence as the band returned to the stage and continued the concert. She must have sensed his turmoil at expressing his feelings aloud. She was supportive, but didn’t push him. He knew if she had, he would have slipped back into denial. He’d never figure out how she could understand him so completely. No one understood him. He didn’t even understand himself. He gently rubbed his left hand over her forearm, needing the tactile sensation of her bare flesh against his fingertips.

When it came time for the band’s encore, Aggie climbed off his lap and offered him a hand. He looked at her and found her cheeks wet with tears. His heart stumbled over several beats.

He climbed to his feet and took her shoulder in his free hand. “Aggie. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, closed her eyes, and swallowed. “I’m glad.” She hugged him unexpectedly, rubbing her tear-damp face against his neck.

“I’m glad,” she whispered.

A roadie, Jake, poked Jace in the back. “You’d better get ready to go onstage.”

Jace released Aggie, and his favorite, solid black bass was pushed into his good hand. He settled the familiar strap around his shoulder, wincing slightly when the full weight of the instrument settled over his trapezius muscle and collarbone. Maybe he had overestimated his ability to play. He slid his arm out of its sling and tested the mobility of his fingers. A bit stiff, but he could play. He was sure.

The crowd was chanting. “Sinners, Sinners, Sinners.” The arena’s overhead lights were still off, so even though the stage was dark and empty, they knew the show wasn’t over.

“Break a leg,” Jon growled into Jace’s ear as he handed him his earpiece. “Or better yet, your fucking neck.”

With no time to tell Jon to fuck off, Jace stuck the earpiece in his ear so he could hear the music and directions given by Dave. He then trotted after Brian and Trey onto the stage. There was a soft glow of blue lights at the level of their feet, and when their shadows crossed the stage, the crowd cheered. Jace’s heart rate kicked up a few notches. He really hoped he didn’t screw up.

Eric tapped a cymbal, starting the intro to “Twisted,” and Jace entered with his bass progression. There was stiffness in his knuckles, and the pain in his right shoulder was agonizingly sharp as he strummed, but the thick strings between his fingertips and the solid fret board were comforting. He’d missed this. Standing next to the drums, he closed his eyes and let the rhythm carry him, head-banging in time with Eric’s bass drum.

Sed entered the song with a long note on his violin. The lights flashed so bright Jace could see them through his closed eyelids. A heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders and urged him forward. Sed apparently didn’t want him hiding by the drum kit this evening. Jace hoped he didn’t expect him to writhe around on the floor the way Jon did. Sed grinned between lyrics and gave him a little wink. He nodded toward the crowd.

Yeah, Jace got it. He should play this up. Make his brief stage appearance special for the fans. He wandered out of Sed’s hold toward the front of the stage. He drew to a halt at its edge and leaned forward to play the steady bass riff at shin level. He head-banged while he played, adrenaline flowing through his body, his shoulder protesting each movement of his fingers. Brian moved to stand beside him, placing one foot on a speaker at the front of the stage while he played the insanely fast guitar riff. Jace stood upright and leaned against the guitarist. Brian beamed and pressed his arm firmly against Jace’s shoulder. Sed paced the front of the stage now, lifting his hand up and down to get the crowd to participate, and thrusting the microphone toward the audience during the chorus so they’d sing along. They especially loved to sing the part that went, “Twisted, crazy hell-born bitch.” Probably because that was the only part they could easily understand. Sed screamed the rest of the chorus in his signature baritone growl, which was fucking awesome.

Trey moved to Brian’s other side during his guitar solo. Jace had to concentrate on the sound of Eric’s drums to continue his low, repetitive bass riff. It was admittedly hard to maintain with Brian wailing away beside him. The man was fucking gifted on that guitar. Jace wanted to stand there and gawk at him in awe. The fans screamed their appreciation of Brian’s skill when he lifted his guitar over his head to carry the final note of his solo.

Jace wasn’t sure what possessed him to add a mini bass solo of his own right before the final chorus. Trey and Brian glanced at him in surprise. The crowd cheered unexpectedly. Jace felt the heat of embarrassment rise up his neck and face until his ears were burning. He returned to the repetitive bass riff that carried the undertones of the entire song. Sed punched him in his good shoulder affectionately.

When the song ended, the crowd cheered. Sed got carried away and lifted Jace off the floor with one heavily muscled arm. “Jace Seymour, ladies and gentlemen.”

And they cheered. “Jace, Jace, Jace.”

For him.

Jace smiled until his cheeks hurt. He couldn’t help himself. Sed set him on his feet. Jace moved to the front of the stage and tossed his pick into the audience. The crowd sank in a circle in search of the prize. Jace lifted his bass off his shoulder and carried it offstage with his good arm. He was actually looking forward to getting his right arm back in its sling. As much as he hated the damned thing, it did take the weight off his shoulder and made it feel a thousand times better.

“Man, that was fuckin’ awesome,” Trey said. “When did you write that bass solo? And why have you been holding out on us?”

Jace hadn’t exactly written that solo. It had come to him spontaneously onstage. Before he could explain that to Trey, a curvy, warm body pressed against him.

“My God, baby, that was amazing,” Aggie said. She captured his face between her hands and kissed him passionately.

Someone took his bass out of his hand, and Jace wrapped his arms around her—both arms. He returned her kiss, his lips sucking on hers gently. Someone squeezed his shoulder, and he drew away from Aggie to find Eric grinning at him.

“Great show, man.”

Jace found himself smiling again. “Thanks. You too.”

Sed hugged Aggie and Jace in one giant embrace. “The crowd loved that. You have to play the encore every night until you’re better, dude. And hurry up and get better, will you? The show isn’t the same without you.”

Did he really mean that?

Jace glanced around. “Where’s Jon?”

“He stalked off sulking right after you started playing,” Aggie said. “Jealous of your superior skill, I’m sure.” She kissed him again. “God, I want you. You’re so sexy when you play onstage.” She released a breathless gasp as she gazed at him.

“I am?”

“Oh yeah.” She offered him her come-hither smile. Was his sudden urge to shove hundred-dollar bills down her shirt wrong? Probably.

Sed released the pair. “Take it easy there, stud. You need to concentrate on healing.”

Aggie’s hand cupped his crotch over his jeans. His cock stirred against her palm. “How about some sexual healing?”

“I’m game.”

He eased his arm back into its sling and let her lead him down the steps by his belt buckle.

* * *

Jace had kept Aggie suspended at the brink of orgasm for a good thirty minutes now. She was moaning and writhing in tormented bliss, but she hadn’t asked him to stop once. His cock was so hard, his balls so full, he almost wanted her to beg so he could fuck her already, but until she broke, he’d continue to pleasure her. He pulled the clothespin from her nipple. The device plucked her nipple hard as it came free.

“Ah,” she gasped.

Her rosy nipple flushed red from overstimulation. Jace lowered his head to soothe the tender bud with his lips. The instant he touched her there, she shuddered, the chains that suspended her arms above her head rattling with her jerky motions. While he kissed her nipple with the slightest suction he could manage, he lowered the clothespin, careful not to touch her sweat-slick thighs and alert her to what he was going to do, and clamped it on her clit.

“Oh,” she moaned, her hips undulating in torment.

He flicked the clothespin, which tugged on her clit.

“Jace!”

Come on, baby, beg for it.

But she didn’t. She took deep shaky breaths, trying to curb her excitement as she had been for the past two hours. He kept flicking that damn clothespin and kissing that tender nipple until her excitement built to the pinnacle. As soon as her body shook with the first ripple of release, he pulled the clothespin off her clit and moved away, leaving her there unfulfilled.

Surely now she would beg him. How many times did he have to make her almost come before she couldn’t stand it anymore? She whimpered. Her entire body—slick with sweat and sticky with syrup—trembled.

Jace was running out of ways to excite her. He’d used every object in his suitcase, in every way he’d imagined, yet she still hadn’t submitted to the pleasure. She let him give her more. He stared at her, bound and blindfolded, and wondered how to proceed. He was out of ideas. Jace reached for a wet cloth and rubbed it over her anus. He trickled chocolate syrup over the area and lowered his head to lick it off. He pressed the tip of his tongue inside her.

“Mmmm,” she murmured, spreading her legs farther, so he could press his tongue deeper with less resistance. He sucked and moved his tongue in chaotic circles. Gasping, she wriggled her hips in excitement.

“I like that.”

He slid two fingers into her sopping wet cunt and pleasured her ass until her internal muscles convulsed. He moved away again, watching her writhe with unfulfilled desire, tears dripping from beneath her blindfold, fluids dripping down the inside of her thighs.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. Maybe she could go all night without coming, but he couldn’t. He climbed from the bed and grabbed some oil from the nightstand. He poured it into his hand and rubbed it over his cock. His head fell back, and he gasped brokenly.

“Jace?”

He should make her watch this. He climbed in front of her, kneeling on the bed, and pushed her blindfold up. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light. Her gaze eventually lowered to his straining cock. She gasped, her hips thrusting forward involuntarily. So she did want it. He wasn’t going to give it to her until she begged.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore her little pained whimpers as he stroked his cock with both hands.

“Jace!”

He stroked himself faster. As soon as he came, he could pleasure her again. He’d start his routine from the beginning.

“Don’t you dare fucking come before me, you asshole!” Aggie yelled, jerking on her restraints.

He opened his eyes to look at her. Her attention was riveted to his cock, her hips undulating with his motion as he pumped it vigorously.

“You want this?” he murmured.

“No,” she growled.

He stroked himself slowly, in the rhythm he knew she responded to best. Her hips churned. “No?” He shrugged, closed his eyes, and massaged the head of his cock with his palm. He didn’t really want to come this way anymore, but he’d keep pleasuring himself to drive her crazy. He absolutely loved her response.

He moved his free hand to his nuts. Massaged those too. “My balls are so heavy, I’ll probably spurt like ten minutes once I get going.”

Aggie sobbed.

“Where do you want it? On your mound?”

She shook her head vigorously.

“On your tits?”

“N-no.”

“Your face? Tell me, Aggie. Where do you want it?”

“Inside. Put it inside. Please, please.” She shook her head, hair flying in all directions “Fuck me, Jace. I can’t take it anymore.”

Jace breathed a sigh of relief. “Finally,” he gasped and released her ankles from the cuffs keeping her in a kneeling position on the bed.

“What do you mean, finally? I’ve been trying to give you what you want for hours.”

“What do you think I want, Aggie?”

“A woman who can take all your pleasure torture until you’re finished.”

Jace grinned. “Not even close, sweetheart.”

“What?”

“I just want to fuck you when you want it. For you to tell me when you need it.”

“I needed it two hours ago.”

“Then why didn’t you say so?”

He moved around her and knelt. Slowly, he slid his hands up her arms toward her restraints, thinking he’d like to tease her just a little longer. Gritting her teeth, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him against her. His cock slid against her hot slit. He shuddered.

“Put it in, damn you,” she growled.

He moved a hand between their bodies and redirected his cock into her body. Her back arched, and she sank over him. They cried out together. She shifted her feet to the bed behind his hips and pushed, drawing him out of her hot, slick pussy before driving her body against him and taking him deep again. He inched forward to give her more play in her chains and rotated his hips as she controlled the joining of their bodies.

“Oh, oh, oh,” she cried. Her body convulsed in orgasm. Her pussy clenched over him, trying to coax him to follow her in bliss. He fought it, wanting to give her as many orgasms as he’d withheld earlier. It would probably take him all night. He hoped she’d had Wheaties for breakfast.

Aggie collapsed against his chest, breathing hard.

“Ah, God, I needed that,” she panted.

He grinned and unfastened her restraints. When her arms came free, she wrapped them around him and then rotated her hips, grinding his hard cock inside her. He tipped her onto her back and followed her onto the bed, driving himself deep. He then pulled out halfway and rocked into her repetitively, relentlessly, until they were both gasping and she was screaming, “Deeper, deeper.”

He thrust into her once and then backed off, pumping into her fast, but shallow. One deep thrust and then fast and shallow again. She clung to his shoulders as another orgasm gripped her. He pulled out until she stopped shuddering and then slipped inside her again.

“Ahhhhh,” she cried as a second orgasm converged with the first.

He thrust into her slowly then, concentrating on not letting himself come—tried to think of anything but her hot, slick body against him, around him. No use. Oh dear God, she felt good. He thrust faster. Pushed deeper. Gave himself over to the pleasure. It built and built. Consumed him until he had no choice but to let go. Jace shuddered uncontrollably as his seed pumped into her. Almost unbearable in intensity, his climax stole his breath. His lungs stung, protesting his lack of air, but the pulsations of pleasure in his groin made it impossible to concentrate on anything as unnecessary as breathing. He drew back slightly and lunged forward again, still shuddering with release. Aggie held him, with her arms and legs and pussy, as he came. She murmured sweet words of love against his throat. When his body collapsed against hers, she drew him closer still. He sucked air desperately, trying to recover.

“Are you too tired to continue?” she asked several minutes later.

He chuckled. Apparently, he had come a lot harder than she had. He’d help her with that as soon as he could move again. “Not yet.”

Aggie wriggled out from beneath him and urged him onto his back. When she reached for the piece of satin on the bed, the one he’d used to drive her to distraction earlier, he wasn’t sure how long he’d last before begging her to fuck him. He was more than ready to find out.

* * *

Jace knew he was dreaming and didn’t want to wake up. He liked this part of the dream. He wished it could go on forever. He’d gladly give up the good though, if he could avoid reliving what he knew would come at the end.

Young, dumb, and full of cum, Jason ducked into the passenger side of the yellow Ford Mustang waiting in the parking lot.

“Did you get it?” Kara asked, her intense brown eyes wide with excitement.

Jason opened his leather jacket and showed her the bottle of whiskey tucked inside. “Let’s get out of here. I think the clerk was suspicious.”

Kara slammed the gearshift into reverse and backed out, before shifting into first and speeding through the parking lot with her tires squealing. So much for being inconspicuous and making a quiet getaway.

“Open it, Jason. I need a drink.”

He pulled the bottle out of his jacket and unscrewed the lid. He passed it to her, and she took a long swallow, blowing through a stop sign without a moment’s hesitation. Kara Sinclair was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl Jason had ever seen. She was already making a name for herself in the world of fashion modeling. But that wasn’t what had him under her spell. She was wild. Reckless. He’d pursued her because she was Brian Sinclair’s little sister, and he’d originally hoped she’d introduce him to Brian’s band, Sinners. Five minutes with her had convinced him none of that mattered. He was in love with her.

Kara passed him the bottle of whiskey, and he took a drink. It burned his throat and made his eyes water. Jason winced, wishing he’d stolen something of higher quality. She deserved the best, and he had absolutely nothing to offer. She pulled into the long driveway of a Beverly Hills estate. Why had she brought him to her house?

She parked in the driveway and took the whiskey from him, taking a long draw from the bottle. “I like this,” she said. “Thanks for getting it.”

“It was nothing.”

“Did you really just walk in there and steal it right in front of the clerk?”

Jason shrugged. “I guess.”

“You’re so bad.” She leaned closer, and he caught the sweet fragrance of her expensive perfume mingling with alcohol. The bangle bracelets on her wrists rattled. “I like bad boys.”

He could be bad. As bad as she wanted him to be.

Her breath tickled his ear. “Do you want to kiss me?”

His heart stuttered and then raced. She leaned away to stare into his eyes, and the next thing he knew, they were kissing. Her soft lips tasted of whiskey. His cock was instantly hard, straining against his jeans. He could think of nothing but her. Possessing her. He lifted a trembling hand to her breast. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected a boob to feel like. Not this soft. It yielded to his touch as he squeezed.

Her brutal slap to his cheek caused him to jerk his hand away.

“I didn’t say you could feel me up,” she said, glaring at him in the dim interior of the car.

He didn’t know how to respond. Her slap had only managed to excite him more, and he wasn’t sure how to deal with that unexpected reality, so he kissed her again. He was careful to keep his hands to himself as he suckled her lips. Licked them. Nibbled them. Caressed her lips with his.

“Jason,” she gasped into his mouth.

Kara launched herself across the car so that she was straddling his lap, facing him. She rubbed her crotch against his, mewing in the back of her throat. He could feel the heat between her legs against his cock. Only layers of fabric separated him from sinking into her body. What would it feel like to bury himself in her moist heat? In her… pussy. Oh God, he was going to explode.

“Touch it,” he murmured against her lips. That’s all he needed—her fingers against his bare skin. He could make do with that. “Please, Kara.”

“Tomorrow,” she whispered. “I think I want my first time to be with you. If I show up at your house tomorrow night, you’ll know for sure.”

Kara Sinclair was a virgin? He wasn’t sure why that surprised him. Maybe because she seemed so worldly. He’d expected her to be far more experienced than he was. He would undoubtedly disappoint her with his lack of skill in the sack. It didn’t stop him from wanting to try it, however.

Kara slid off his lap into the driver’s seat, pressing her fingers to her cheeks.

“Get out,” she said.

Was she mad at him now? “Kara?”

“I need to think about this. So you need to go now. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe not.”

He walked over seven miles to get home. He had a huge case of blue balls, but the agonizing ache was bittersweet. Would Kara show up tomorrow? He was kind of glad she’d put him off for at least a day. He had plans to make. He wanted to satisfy her. Make this special for her. Let it be more about her and less about him.

His father laid into him the moment he stepped through the door. “Where the fuck have you been, you worthless piece of shit?”

“None of your business.”

Dad grabbed him by the front his jacket. “You smell like whiskey. Have you been drinking?”

“Maybe.”

Dad cuffed him on the ear. Jason cried out in pain, covering his ear with one hand. He’d become accustomed to the belt years ago, so his father had started using his fists, and when that no longer made Jason beg for mercy, he’d started boxing him on the ears. Jason never got used to that pain. “Your mother is looking down on you from heaven, weeping over what you’ve become. Weeping that her son is no better than a delinquent, a criminal, a useless, no good pile of shit. You’ll never amount to anything.”

Jason sneered, pretending the words didn’t affect him, but even though he’d heard them a thousand times, they still stung, and he believed them a little more every day. “Are you finished?”

Dad boxed him on the other ear. “Get your ass up to your room, boy. You’re grounded.”

Jason had both ears covered with his hands now. “For what?”

“Drinking. And whatever other trouble you got yourself into tonight.”