Beats (21 page)

God, I need him too. “Okay. Let me grab a few things, and I’ll meet you in your room.”

He nods and leans in for a kiss. I close my eyes and accept his gift. The rage is still there, but it eases with each second our mouths remain connected. When the kiss breaks, I whisper against his mouth, “Thank you, Jeff.”

“I’d been trying to figure out how to break up with him for a few days. This made it easy in some ways. Harder in others.”

I choke on my own spit, and my eyes pop. “What? Why?”

“You tear me into little pieces, Jinx. No one—not Rax, not my old girlfriend—has ever laid me bare like you do.”

My pulse pounds against my veins, opening up the blood flow, making me dizzy. Might need a paper bag. “I don’t understand.”

He grabs either side of my face and pulls me to his mouth. “I can’t serve two masters. You stole my heart and soul when you gave yourself to me while Rax fucked me in the hotel. I knew then I had to have you. To myself.”

“But…Why didn’t you say something then?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

“I couldn’t just throw away a lifetime of friendship with Rax after one night with you, even though I wanted to. I had to find a way to break it to him. But he took care of that problem himself. And now there’s just you and me.”

I sigh. “‘You and me’ sounds like way more than I deserve.”

“You deserve the world, Gianna. The only thing left is for you to find your groove. Assuming we still have a band. I can help if you’ll let me.”

All my resistance shatters. He’s so genuine, so sincere. Maybe I misread his signals at rehearsals. Maybe what I
thought
was condescension was actually worry for my career.

I’d jump off a cliff for Toombs Badcock’s love. Maybe it’s time I took a leap of faith in our professional relationship too. I have nothing left to lose.

I press a soft kiss to his parted lips. “I’ll get my sticks.”

Step Ten:
Tell Him You Love Him with a Song

Giving Toombs time to clean up, I head to his room thirty minutes later, sticks in tow. He opens the door, leans against the jamb, and stares at me with this panty-soaking smile. I never noticed his teeth before. He’s usually scowling. They’re pretty and white but not perfect. A little chip nicks the corner of one of his incisors. Fits with the rest of the package.

“You gonna invite me in, Jefferson?” I’m a quivering mess of uncertainty, doing my best to stay calm by tossing out a nervous one-liner.

He takes my hand, rubs a thumb over the back of it, and drags me close enough to smell his sweet cinnamon breath. I’m small before him, but the devotion in his expression makes me feel like a giant. He dips his head, closes his eyes, and welcomes me with one of his reason-tripping kisses. Our bodies cross paths in all the right places—my nipples scrape his naked chest through my flimsy nightshirt, the outline of his erection touches my belly, and our lips…Sweet Jesus, his tenderness is almost too much. Everything that was wrong an hour ago is suddenly right.

I lift my lids slowly to meet his gaze. Arms around his neck, I reflect on the many hurdles we’ve cleared and how far we’ve come. I waited for him to notice me for months, and now that I have his attention, I don’t want it to end. I could stare at him all night and never tire of it.

Yet, I have to be realistic. Practical. Things aren’t okay. This moment is an illusion of calm. Tomorrow, we’ll have to deal with Rax and assess the damage. Toombs hasn’t had a chance to process everything that happened yet. Breaking up with someone after a long relationship is never easy. And for me, keeping Toombs won’t be, either. Intentionally or not, I drove a wedge between him and Rax. That’s going to make life very difficult for all of us in the band.

Toombs glances down the hall before pulling me into his room and closing the door behind us. He leans against the wood and studies me. Wearing only a pair of loose sweat pants, he glistens from his recent shower, little droplets on his skin taunting me, winking from his tattoos. Pervasive scars stand out in the poor light. He’s covered in them. Parallel lines in neat patterns across the undecorated parts of his skin. I touch a pair of thin, pink slices on his chest. He looks down and covers my hand with his.

“Tell me about these,” I say. Now that we’re truly alone, I feel safer asking pointed questions.

He answers head-on. “I used to cut myself. Or have someone else do it for me.”

Pulling away, I manage to keep my cringe under wraps.
Used to.
In the past. I hope that’s what he means. “Weren’t you worried about going too far? I mean, what if you or your partner cut too deep? What if you couldn’t stop the blood? What if—God forbid—you were seriously injured?”

He sits on the bed, and his expression becomes guarded. Great. I’ve offended him. He reaches for me, and I join him.

“I was very careful. Just little nicks and superficial cuts. I don’t do it anymore. I found…alternatives. Rax…” He sighs. “Rax knows how to get me off in ways that inflict pain but don’t damage.”

“Rax is your Dom, right? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just trying to understand.” This whole Dom/sub, sadist/masochist thing still freaks me the hell out.

“We never made a formal pledge or any of that shit, but yeah, I guess he was my Dom.” He rubs the gash tattoo below his chin and laughs dryly. “This was my ‘collar.’ He went with me when I got it done. Watched all four hours while the guy put it on me. He never left my side. I think he was proud of it.”

Wow. A tattoo for a collar? I love that ink. It’s my favorite of his. Why did it have to be for Rax?

Cut the jealousy routine, Gianna. You’re bound to discover a whole lot of stuff about Toombs you aren’t going to like. Look past it. Deal.

I stroke the vivid reds and blacks. “It’s beautiful.”

Maybe Rax isn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe he’s just a self-centered asshole who really does love Toombs but loves himself more. Everything is about Rax. Which is probably why he stuck with Toombs for so long. Still, it makes me sad that Rax took advantage of Toombs. And me.

“I’m gonna get it blasted off tomorrow,” he says.

“Don’t do that. Not yet. You may change your mind.”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m done with his bullshit. If he can’t look me in the eye and tell me the truth…Fuck him.”

The tightness in his shoulders and intensity rolling off him warn me to leave it alone.

I touch his bare, hot back. When he leans subtly into my palm, I rub circles there. “You deserve happiness. What can I do to make you happy?”

His head snaps up, and he nails me with the hard stare of a famished predator. “Let me serve you. Let me help you find your beats.”

Apprehension hitches, tossing a boulder on my brain’s track, derailing me from my comfort zone. As the new girl on his block, I have a lot to learn. And he hasn’t figured me out yet, either.

Does he mean serve me in a submissive way? He’s used to having Rax tell him what to do. I’m not sure I can boss him around, and hurting him is pretty much out of the question.

But pain gets him off.

So what do I do? Pretend I’m a Domme and make him my bitch, even though it scares the hell out of me? Hit him, despite my better judgment? Back out because I’m a chicken shit?

What would a chameleon do?

Adapt.

What should Gianna do?

Hold on to Toombs as long as he’ll let me.

“I’m going to need a little…coaching.” I bite my lip.

“No, you don’t. I told you, I watch people. I know what makes them tick. There’s a Domme lurking underneath your skin. She came out when you punched Rax in the hotel, and I’ve seen flashes of her a few times since. Do what comes naturally.” He tweaks the drumsticks in my hands and eases onto the comforter.

I don’t believe him. I’m no Domme.

At least, I don’t think I am.

I search his expression for signs of teasing but find only certainty. Faith.

The line of his erection stretches the fabric of his sweats. That’s all it takes. Something aggressive snaps like a glow stick inside the sexual part of my brain.

“What about condoms?” I have to ask, though I want so badly to do him bareback. I’ve got birth control pills to cover me on the pregnancy front, but nothing to prevent an STD from rearing its ugly head.

“You’re in charge. I trust you, Gianna. You have to decide whether you trust me.”

I might be making a huge mistake, but I trust him more than I do myself. Bareback it is.

Jesus, have mercy on me.

Letting go of my fears, I straddle him. He wants beats? I’ll give him beats. My wrists cut loose, tapping out a low-key backbeat on the pillow above his head, around his arms, and on the wooden headboard. The rhythm—a simple but seductive swing—flows seamlessly. I amp it up by lifting my butt and hovering so my feet can paddle out a bass drum groove on either side of his thighs.

He smiles. God, how I love his smile. His hips rock under me.

Leaning close to his mouth, I say, “If you want to serve, then ravage me. Ruin me. Make me sweat. And scream. And come.”

With a wry grin, he adjusts his position, stretches, pushing his hard-on into me through too many annoying layers of clothes. “Yes, Mistress.”

He’s got it all wrong. I’m the supplicant here. Not him.

But I’ll be what he needs me to be. For as long as he’ll have me.

I point to my eyes and gather some momentum for my bold new role. “I want you to look at me while you do it. Attention right here. Don’t waver, or I’ll…punish you.” Oh my God, I can’t believe I said that. If he tests me, I’m not sure I’ll follow through with my threat. I can’t hurt him the way Rax does.

Can I?

His dick twitches beneath me, and his pupils flare. “I’ll try to behave.”

I reach deep inside for fortitude, grab his rocks through the fabric, and squeeze. “You
will
behave.”

Those quicksilver orbs narrow into submission, and the playfulness is replaced with pure devotion. “Yes, Mistress.”

I could die. The word alone sends quivers swimming through my belly, radiating outward like ripples on a pond and doubling back toward my center. This power, this control—false as it may be—is totally foreign to me.

But I like it.

Maybe Toombs really did see something in me I didn’t recognize within myself. Maybe this brave new Jinx isn’t new at all, but someone who was buried under heaps of guilt and shyness, waiting for the right person to set her free.

Maybe I can make Toombs mine by commanding his body.

I slip the pajama top over my head, focusing on the soft cotton caressing my nipples, the curves of my breasts, the ticklish spot on my neck that Toombs keeps exploiting.

I push the pajama bottoms low on my hips, twist just enough for my clit stud to pop free of the waistband and taunt him. He watches. Wipes the corner of his mouth. God, I hope he’s salivating like I am. I grasp one of his fingers, lick it long and slow, then dip it into my slick pussy. “Take me. Hard. Now.”

“As you wish.” He throws me over, rips the PJs down to my ankles, yanks my hands painfully behind my back, and dives face first into my ass.

Holy Mother of God.

The thrill of being chased chills and elates my skin. My core is on fire. Exposed. I’m a live wire with no grounding in sight.
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my…God…

Toombs spreads my butt cheeks with one hand while pinning my wrists to the base of my spine with the other. The drumsticks are forgotten. He licks, bites, caresses. The bristles of his goatee scratch tender skin. I clench my cheeks tight, only for him to pry them open and plunge deeper.

I buck against him, not to get away, but to keep from flying apart. My legs scissor wildly. The weight of his body stifles them. He drives harder into forbidden territory. I wrench a hand free and flop it around in search of his cock. Out of reach, damn it. I need him inside me, tearing me open, with nothing between us but what God gave us.

Dragging my knees under me, I push my ass into his face. As he plunders both holes with tongue, fingers, and nose, his moans vibrate my entire lower half. He grunts and bucks with me. It sounds like he wants to come too. Maybe he already has.

“Put your cock in me, balls deep, Toombs. Rake me open with those pearls.” This is going to hurt like hell. I’m so damn horny for him, I don’t care.

He stops, and the bed shifts as he shrugs out of his sweats and thumps my butt with his rock-hard erection. Warm fluid and cool metal from the head swish across my ass cheek, luring goosebumps to the surface of my skin. I shiver like someone walked over my grave.

He climbs the length of my back to whisper in my ear. “I’m gonna fuck you senseless, Gianna. I’ll dick you so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

I turn my face into his and playfully bite the hairs on his chin. “Then you’ll have to carry me.”

The spicy aggression in his expression melts into sweet chocolate pudding. “I’d carry you up a mountain, through a desert, across an ocean. Anywhere you go, I’m there to hold you up, baby.”

Elation hits me so hard, I gasp. He calms my shakes with a quiet kiss, and slips away.

I wiggle my ass for his viewing pleasure. He lowers his mouth to imbibe some more, this time focusing on making my pussy wetter, which doesn’t seem possible, yet he works his magic. Toombs continues to prove not all tongues are created equal. Sliding in and out, flicking the silver through my hood, he makes me dizzy with wanton lust.

God, I want his beaded cock inside me again.

“Fuck me, Toombs. Let me be your fantasy come to life.”

The words barely clear the slopes of my teeth, and his dick does exactly what I asked. It spears my starving pussy like a spitted pig. I can almost taste him in my mouth. A squeal flies out of me, and I rear on my knees, nearly choking on the sudden rush of saliva glutting my mouth. The pleasure-pain fills me, splits me, flays me.

His hands clamp onto my breasts and squeeze. He speaks along the column of my neck, his voice rattling me straight to my core. “You
are
my fantasy. All this time I dreamed of fucking you with Rax. When it finally happened, you left me empty inside.”