Текст книги "Crazy Beautiful"

Автор книги: Penny Dee

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Chapter Ten HEATH

Drunk girls weren’t exactly a favorite of mine. God knows I’d come across my fair share of them. They filled the clubs and a lot of them were our fans, so I respected them for being loyal to the band and our music. But they could be difficult. Demanding. Insistent.

Trouble.

So I was used to how it played out. They got drunk. And things came out of their mouths that they might not ever say if they were sober. And they did things—things they might regret later. Including throwing drinks at me because they expected something more from me, when I had never offered it to them in the first place.

So when Harlow threw her arms around my neck and began to gently nuzzle my throat, despite the fucking amazing pleasure it sent coursing through me, I had to remind myself that it wasn’t real. She was drunk and I was helping her into my house where I planned to put her to bed and nurse her until she sobered up. That’s all. Nothing more. She had insisted she didn’t want to go back to her house, so I brought her back to mine, where she was safe and I could make sure nothing happened to her.

But, Jesus Christ, the way she was nuzzling my neck with those amazing lips of hers. I felt it all over my body. Every touch of them against my neck and shoulder sent me as hard as a fucking torpedo. It was driving me crazy. She would only have to put them on my mouth and I would lose all self-control.

Jesus Christ.

“Why don’t you look at me like all those other girls?” she slurred, her head lolling about like one of those dog statues you see in the back of an elderly person’s car.

“Because you’re not like all those other girls.”

She frowned and I wondered if she was going to throw up again but she wriggled free to stand up. Which was a bit of relief because I needed to unlock the front door and was wondering how I was going to do it with her in my arms.

Once inside she saw the pool through the dining room window and twirled back towards me, excited.

“I want to swim!”

Which is just what you want to hear from someone who has a belly full of alcohol.

“Um, no … not a good idea, H-bomb,” I said throwing the keys, my wallet and cell phone into the bowl beside the front door.

Not that Harlow would ever listen to me. She had already made it across the dining room and was out on the patio before I caught up to her.

"Alcohol and swimming do not mix, Harlow. Let me get you some aspirin and put you to bed.”

But she wouldn’t listen to me. She loosened the knot in her hair and it tumbled down her back and over her shoulders. Fuck, could she be any more beautiful?

She stood at the edge of the pool and cast a look at me over her shoulder, a small smile curled on her lips.

“Harlow—”

Water cascaded into the air as she dived in and resurfaced, laughing. “Oh my god, Heath … it’s beautiful!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re crazy!”

“Come in.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

When she stood up and looked at me, I swear to God she set my body on fire with that mere gaze. I drew in a deep breath. And I ignored the desperate need to walk into that water and gather her into my arms and walk out again. Because if I did, I would take her straight to my bedroom and spend the rest of the night fucking that need right out of my body.

She smiled and then nodded as she extended an arm to me. “Will you help me out?”

I knelt down and offered her my hand. Wet fingers curled around mine. Her eyes fixed mine and slowly her lips curled into a mischievous grin.

“Harlow—” I warned.

My words were drowned by the rush of water as she pulled me into the pool. When I surfaced she threw her arms around me and curled her long legs around my body.

Before I could stop her, her soft lips found my mouth and she kissed me. I wanted to stop. I really did. Because I knew she was drunk. But the most incredible lips were kissing me and her tongue filled my mouth and worked against mine in a kiss wild horses couldn’t drag me away from. It was so sweet, and so wet, and so I kissed her right back. And when she moaned, I moaned right back, taking it all in. The wetness of her mouth, the smooth glide of her lips, the soft gentle lap of her tongue against mine, the subtle grind of her hips as she pressed her legs tighter around my waist. It was killing my resolve.

Even lost in the bliss of her mouth against mine I could see those long legs wrapped tightly around me. Only the thin piece of fabric of her panties separated us and the thought made me dizzy. I was hard and I throbbed. And even as I was losing myself in that kiss and responding to the unsubtle language of her body, I knew I would have to stop.

But goddamn it … it was a war inside of me. I wanted nothing more than to pull off my jeans, rip the thin fabric of those panties and plunge deep into her.

I closed my eyes against the thought.

“Harlow … no …” I breathed hard. “You’re drunk.”

She was determined.

“I don’t care,” she said between her assaults against my mouth. Smooth hands cupped my jaw. Hips rocked against mine. Jesus, I could feel her grinding against me, against every part that mattered right now.

I breathed hard against the raging desire that tore through me.

“Harlow, let me take you inside.”

She pulled back, her beautiful face glimmering with tiny droplets of water. She cocked a brow.

“I want you to take me inside …”

I shook my head and if I wasn’t fighting a raging hard-on and a violent urge to be inside her, I would have smiled at how adorable and sexy she was.

“Let me put you to bed,” I said, trying hard to do the right thing.

“Yes. I want you to put me in your bed and show me what drives all the girls crazy for you.” She kissed my neck and I couldn’t stop the groan. Fuck. Me. She was making it hard on me.

“Baby …” The word slipped from my lips as she kissed them. “Not now. Not like this,” I whispered.

She fixed me with those amazing eyes. “Yes now. Yes, like this.”

I smoothed her wet hair from her forehead and looked into her perfect face. “Harlow, I don’t want to make love to you when you’re like this. When I make love to you, I want you to be sober and—”

She frowned. Her eyes rounded. “You don’t want to make love to me?” she slurred. She looked hurt and then brushed her lips against my throat. “Then don’t make love to me. Fuck me.”

Her words made me harder than I’d ever been in my life.

“Not when you’re drunk.”

Pulling back, she fixed me with dark, shiny eyes and released my neck from her grasp. She waded backwards a little and stood before me, suddenly shivering, her skin glistening with diamonds of water, the fabric of her dress clinging to her every perfect curve.

Her brows drew in sharply.

“Fuck you Heath!” she suddenly cried, flinging an arm out and letting it drop limply to her side. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck you!”

Drunk Harlow had re-emerged and she was D.R.U.N.K.

She waded towards the edge and clumsily climbed out. “Fuck you. You fuck!”

Apparently she was attempting to see how many f-bombs she could fit into the one sentence. And she was going for gold.

She stumbled across the patio and slipped over, crashing to her knees. With a rush of water I leapt out of the pool and guided her to her feet.

“Don’t touch me.” She slapped my hand away. The hand I wasn’t using to help her up. Conveniently.

“Let me get you inside.”

She pushed me and took a wobbly step backwards, hugging her wet arms around her waist.

“Why not me?” she asked suddenly. “Why not me, Heath?”

“What are you talking about?”

“What’s wrong with me? You want everything with a pulse … except me …”

And then it dawned on me. What she was saying.

“Wait. You think I don’t want you?” I asked.

Was she really that blind?

She shivered and nodded, and I stepped towards her and took her by the shoulders. But she wouldn’t look at me. I turned her chin to me and she looked up at me with those large soft eyes. Her lashes were long and thick with droplets and her skin sparkled with diamonds of water. She shivered again and her chin quivered.

“I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you, Harlow,” I said quietly.

She blinked and water trickled down her cheeks. “You want me?”

I nodded and ran the pad of my fingertips down her cheek. “More than you could ever know. But you are drunk. It’s not meant to happen this way.”

She closed her eyes and slowly opened them again. “I wish I wasn’t.”

“Me too.”

She smiled up at me and pulled me closer by the belt loop of my wet jeans. “When I wake up tomorrow … I hope I remember this moment.”

“I doubt you will.”

“You’re probably right.” She reached around and held me, placing her wet cheek against my chest. “I think I’m in love with you Heath.”

“I think I might be in love with you too H-bomb.”

She pulled back and smiled up at me. But her smile suddenly faded and she abruptly pulled away, quickly disappearing behind a shrub to throw up.

I had to laugh at the irony. It was the first time I’d ever told anyone I might be in love with them.

And it had made her violently ill.

* * * * *

HARLOW

I had died and I was in hell.

Either that or I had been in some kind of terrible accident and was lying injured somewhere. Various scenarios skipped across my injured brain before I bit the bullet and braved opening my eyes.

Bright light flooded my vision and I quickly squeezed them shut again. Where the hell was I? And who had loosed the stampede of jackhammers on my brain?

I rolled over in search of a place where my brain would stop hurting and I found a cool spot. Settling into it, I waited for sleep to take me away on its soothing tides again. I felt warm. Relaxed. Content amongst the sheets. Feeling the softness of the fabric against my skin and the warm body beside me.

What the…?

My eyes flew open.

Holy hell!

I. Was. In. Heath’s. Bed.

With Heath.

Wearing nothing but an unfamiliar pair of boxer shorts and singlet.

Almost too afraid to move I peered under the sheet.

Oh thank God! Heath had his boxers on.

I snapped the sheet back down and turned my neck to see Heath smiling at me.

“See anything you like?” He grinned.

“Oh God,” I moaned, pulling the pillow over my face.

Desperately, I tried to recall the events of the previous night. Namely, how the hell had I ended up in Heath’s bed and did they include me having sex with my stupid ex-best friend? I rolled my memory back as far as it would go, but last night was nothing but a blur.

Heath just wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into the warm contour of his body. It felt so good I didn’t even struggle.

Too good.

“Anyone ever tell you how much you wriggle in your sleep?” he murmured into the back of my neck. Magical sensations shot along my skin at the warmth of his breath on my neck and the closeness of his firm body pressed up against mine. His arm held me close, his gentle fingers sweeping across my belly as his hand dropped to the sheet.

My headache dissipated as a thousand pleasures tore threw me. Every nerve in my body tingled.

“Heath?”

He shifted next to me, the warmth of his body engulfing me.

“Mmmm?” he murmured into my hair.

“Where are my clothes?”

“You don’t remember?”

My mind reached back as far as it could go. Nope. Nothing.

“Why am I not wearing them?”

His lips curled into a smile against my neck. “Think about it … it’ll come back to you.”

“Oh God … I … we … didn’t…?”

I felt him rise up onto an elbow and when I turned to look at him, he was smiling.

“Relax H-bomb, your virtue is still intact.”

I felt dumb for having to ask. And dumber for actually asking. But it wasn’t every day I woke up hung over and semi-naked in bed with a guy every woman wanted between her thighs.

“Believe me baby—” He fluffed his pillow and lay back down again. “If we’d gone there together, you wouldn’t need me to remind you.”

His arrogant charm pushed through my hangover and I laughed until my throbbing brain shut me up and I pressed my hands over my eyes.

He pulled me back into him, his bare chest and stomach warm against my back, as his arms secured around my waist. He sighed and I melted against him, my entire body relaxed and content.

Slept crept up on me and when I opened my eyes four hours had passed and I was alone. I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling. It was ridiculous that I could feel so content lying amongst the tangled sheets of the biggest player in town. Yet I was.

I covered my face with my hands. I shouldn’t feel so relaxed here.

When the door crept open I sat up. Heath came in carrying a glass of water.

“How are you feeling?” he asked handing me the water.

“I’m fine.” I raised the glass in a toast. “Thanks.”

He bounced onto the bed, lay on his side and flopped his arms over my legs.

“So what do you want to do today?”

“Do?” I shrugged. “I should probably go home. “

I ran my hands through my hair, shaking it loose over my shoulders.

“Stay here. We can hang out. Chill on the couch and watch a couple of movies.” He looked up at me, his eyes soft as he grinned. It was no wonder women fell over themselves for his attention. How could I turn down that face?

“Will there be popcorn and ice-cream?”

His smile widened. “Baby, I’m talking about the full cinema experience.”

“Then how can I refuse?” I said, laughing at his enthusiasm.

“I’m hoping you can’t.”

Then I remembered I had work the next day. “I have work in the morning.”

“I can get you there. I’ll take you on the bike.”

“I’ll need a change of clothes.”

He sat up. “We’ll go now and then grab some lunch.”

I cocked my head to the side as I looked at him. “Why do you want me to stay so much?”

He shrugged. “I’m not use to a girl cuddling me in my bed. I guess I kinda liked it.”

“That’s ’cos after you have sex with them, you’re showing them the door before they even have a chance to put their panties back on.”

His eyebrows pressed together into a frown and I thought it was because I’d just reminded him of what a player he was. But he must have been thinking about the past week because he said, “I’m sorry about how I acted. How I avoided you.”

“So you admit it. You were avoiding me.”

“I don’t know what I was doing. I just thought it’d be easier …” He trailed off and frowned again. His eyes dropped to his big hands where he was absentmindedly playing with his thumbnail. “Whatever it was, it was dumb. And I’m sorry.”

I knew we should discuss the night I picked him up from the hospital. Namely, about the kiss in his lounge room and how I’d practically begged him to take it further. But last night—what I didn’t know about last night—was seriously playing havoc with my head. It had left my head murky and I couldn’t remember a thing.

Despite my current state of hangover hell, I still had the sense to see that a serious conversation about our relationship was best left until I could think straight. But it wasn’t just that. Because if I were honest, the simple truth was: I had no idea what I wanted anymore. And I needed time to think.

Heath Dillinger was breaking my steely resolve.

And it terrified me.

“Apology accepted.” I took his hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry I called you an asshole.”

He looked up. “You didn’t.”

I grinned. “Oh, yes I did.”

He chuckled. “Well, it was deserved.”

“No more being mean to me, okay?”

“You have my word.” He smiled. “Unless you start with the name calling again. So was it just asshole? Or were there more creative adjectives?”

“I can be very creative.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Now you’re just teasing.”

I smiled and stretched, then remembering my lack of clothes pulled the sheet around me self-consciously. “I need a shower.”

Heath leapt off the bed and grabbed a fresh pair of boxers and a t-shirt from the dresser, throwing them on the bed. “You can wear these while your clothes are drying. I’ll make us a coffee while you shower.”

Standing lathered in soap under the warm spray of the shower, I couldn’t help but smile at Heath’s kindness. He had a big heart. I wondered if those girls with their false eyelashes, long nails and short skirts, knew what a great guy he really was under all that showmanship he presented onstage. I wondered if they knew he was always smiling, always friendly, always thinking of others first. Or if they even cared. Onstage he was a magnificent creature who soaked panties and set hearts on fire; offstage he was one of the nicest guys I had ever encountered.

He made me feel things I couldn’t explain. But I would be leaving soon. My life wasn’t in California. There was no point in starting anything that I couldn’t stop when I returned to Georgia. And something told me if I started anything with this guy, I wouldn’t be able to stop. He was too much to love. And I was on a time limit.

The spray of water felt good on my head and I sighed.

After a thorough shampoo, I found a tub of conditioner to run through my hair and took time soaping up my body. My hangover was subsiding and I was starting to feel better with every passing minute. The shower was bringing me to life again when suddenly small fragments of the night before swung before my closed lids.

He broke the surface and rose out of the water, his thick, muscular body tanned and glittering with beads of water. His wet jeans hung low on his hips, the wet fabric of his t-shirt clinging to every curve, every ripple of muscle on his torso. He turned to face me and I could see the wide expanse of his broad shoulders, so round and large beneath his shirt. Big hands ran through his wet hair and his tattoos moved as if they were alive over strong forearms as his muscles flexed. But it was his face, that beautiful, amazing face that caught the breath in my throat. Wet lips broke into a dazzling smile, as blue eyes sparkled at me through dark lashes.

My eyes flicked opened.

Oh hell.

His lips were wet but oh so warm against my mouth. His tongue was smooth and strong as it worked with mine in a slow, intoxicating rhythm.

I was rooted to the spot, with soapsuds sliding down my slick skin, as more fractured memories slowly came back to me.

“Harlow, I don’t want to make love to you when you’re like this. When I make love to you, I want you to be sober …”

Oh hell. God. Holy Jesus. Fuck.

Had Heath really said that? Or had I dreamed it?

I dropped to the floor of the bath and drew my knees to my chin. Water gushed over my head and over my shoulders.

“Why not me, Heath?”

“What are you talking about?”

Oh my God. No! I covered my face with my hands.

No. No. No. No. No.

I was not that girl.

Not, some whiny girl having a cry about a guy not wanting me.

“What’s wrong with me? You want everything with a pulse … except me …”

Ugh! Apparently, I was.

I groaned and closed my eyes. Great. I’d thrown myself at Heath just like all the other girls and the thought made me feel sick. I would have to apologize. But could I make up for acting like such a whiny princess?

Rising to my feet, I let the water wash away the last of the soapsuds. Of course I could. I would apologize to Heath for … oh God, did he really have to hold me up while I threw up outside of the club?

After turning off the faucet I squeezed the water from my hair and wrapped myself in a towel. I was running a comb through my tangled hair when there was a knock on the bathroom door.

“Harlow…?”

“Yeah?”

“There is a spare toothbrush in the third drawer of the vanity. It’s yours if you want to brush your teeth.”

I retrieved the brush and gave my teeth a good scrub with minty toothpaste and rinsed them well. Slipping into the boxers and baseball shirt Heath had given me I flicked my hair back and stared at my reflection in the mirror. It was then I remembered.

“I think I’m in love with you Heath.”

Oh my god. I had mentioned the L-word.

I think I might be in love with you too H-bomb.

I gasped.

Oh hell.

Chapter Eleven HEATH

The look on her face when she came out of the bathroom told me all I needed to know.

She remembered last night. Or at least some of it.

When she hesitantly entered the room I knew she was feeling awkward. She looked adorable in my boxers and baseball shirt with Dillinger across the back. It made me smile. My name looked good on her.

She sat down next to me, curling one leg under the other. Her hair fell in dark wet strands around her freshly scrubbed face. She looked embarrassed and I couldn’t help but grin. Call me a dick, but she was so cute when she felt uncomfortable and I kind of enjoyed it.

“So I guess you remember a lot more about last night than I do, huh?” she said, looking so adorable that I fought off the urge to grab her face and kiss her.

“Considering the amount of alcohol you had … I’d say that is a fair assumption.” I grinned and she closed her eyes in embarrassment.

When she opened them again she said, “I’m so sorry Heath …”

I feigned ignorance. You know. Just to fuck with her. Yeah. Yeah. I was douche. But if you saw how amazing she looked sitting there, so pretty and sweet, looking all awkward … hell, she was perfect.

She bit her bottom lip and my dick felt the tiny flick of her tongue and the soft scrap of her teeth right through to its tip. It moved and pulsed and I could feel it growing. If she kept doing shit like that, I would have to take care of it myself. I hadn’t been laid in weeks and I had world of built up sexual urges begging for release.

“I told you I was in love with you, didn’t I?” she said, sheepishly.

“Maybe.” I glanced at her sideways.

“Sorry about that.”

My smile faded. “Don’t ever apologize for that,” I said.

She smiled sweetly. But our eyes locked and something passed between us. The air crackled with it. Something we both felt. A silent fork in the road. It was time to stop circling each other. It was time to admit how we truly felt about one another. I knew it. And in that moment, so did she.

She shook her head and stood up abruptly. “I can’t do this, Heath.”

I jumped up and took her wrists in my hands. “Why not? Why can’t this be right?”

“Because I can’t give you what you want.” She fixed me with those piercing sea-green eyes. “I won’t be this week’s flavor and next week’s leftovers.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked a little harshly.

“You can have any girl you want, and you’re choosing me?”

“Yes,” I cried. “Yes, that is exactly what I am doing.”

* * * * *