Collaborate (Save Me #4) (6 page)

“This place looks fantastic,” Cam, Aiden’s wife, speaks up.

“Yeah.” I nod, trying not to sound bitchy. “Abby put a lot of time into it.”

I’ve seen Abby floating around with a smile plastered on, but have yet to see Jameson and that makes me nervous. I don’t want him for a second to think that he shouldn’t be here. He deserves this party as much as anyone else here. Yes, it’s more for the employees than the artists, but we’re such a tight company that a lot of the artists showed up anyway. I’m just about to pull my phone out and send Jameson a text when Evan nudges my arm, nodding in the direction of the door.

“When the hell did she grow up?” I ask myself out loud as I watch Izzy move from person to person like she owns the room. The knee-length black lace dress, the heels, and the way her blonde hair spirals down her back, all make her look a hell of a lot older than she is.

“What the hell happened to the little girl we played Barbies with?”

I look down at Daisy and shrug. Vanessa and Jason step up beside us and stare in the same direction. All of us jump when Jameson speaks up from behind us.

“You realize how much trouble we’re in now that she knows she can look like that?”

“Man,” Evan says, trying to hide the slight slur in his voice. “You were in trouble with that one no matter what. And you have two of ‘em that you have to worry about.” Dropping down, he presses his lips against my ear. “We’re not allowed to have girls unless they can kick asses like you. I don’t want to go to jail for killing anyone.”

Evan

I feel Tuesday stiffen in my arms. We’ve haven’t talked much about having kids, but I want them. One step at a time. I got her to agree to marry me, I’m sure we can talk about kids down the road. Pulling Tuesday away from everyone, I drag her into my arms and sway along to whatever music is. Whatever was in the drinks Hunter got us got me drunker than I’ve been in a long time, really fast.

“Can I sing you a song?”

Tuesday’s body shakes with laughter and she looks up at me. “Is this like the poem you wrote me the first time you hung out with Hunter? You guys took off there for a bit, did you work something else out?”

It takes me a minute to get what she says but then I finally remember the poem she’s talking about. “No,” I laugh. “All the rights to this belong to me.”

She reaches up, brushing her fingers over my cheek and I grab her hand, holding it there. I love her skin against mine, even if it’s just a small touch like this. “Then tell me, I love when you sing to me.”

“Ahem,” I clear my throat. Pulling her closer, I let my hands drift over her bare back. “Silver balls, silver balls, it’s Christmas time in your pussy. Lick your clit, hear you scream, soon it will be our wedding day.”

Surprisingly she lets me get all the way through before she busts out laughing, there may even be a tiny snort in there somewhere. “Please don’t sing that at our wedding,” she says as soon as she can breathe.

“Anything you want.”

“Hey!” Tuesday yells, pulling away from me a bit. I swivel my head toward the person she’s yelling at and spot Aiden and Cam heading for the door. “All these offices, especially mine, better be in the same condition they were in when we closed this afternoon.”

Cam’s face turns bright red and she buries it in Aiden’s sleeve. Aiden shakes his head, laughing and pulls her away. “Is there something I should know?”

“Nothing I can’t take care of,” she chuckles, pulling me down to kiss her.

“I can’t wait to make you my wife,” I whisper against her lips.

The microphone crackles on, pulling my attention away from Tuesday’s lips. “We all know what time it is, but for once it isn’t me!” Everyone chuckles. Turning around Hunter winks at me from the stage as he waves around a bag. “It’s OK, bro, just do your best. Not everyone can be awesome like me.”

I mutter under my breath as I grab the bag and head to the bathroom to change. When I finally have the dirty old Santa suit on and strap the beard over my face, I head back out and push Hunter out of my way.

Damn bets. Damn tight ass Santa suit. The only thing I want to be doing right now is bending my soon-to-be-wife over something. Instead, I have to make up this dirty fucking rendition of ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. 

I clear my throat and step up to the mic. Everyone surrounds me, they all know how this is going to go. “’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through my house. Not a creature was stirring, while I fucked her hot mouth. The condoms were thrown by the edge of the bed, 

in hopes that we soon would be shaking the bed. Our kids are tucked all snug in their own fucking bed. While visions of cages for them danced in my head. With Mamma on her knees, and me on the edge, had just settled down for a nice piece of head. When out on the side of the road there arose such a clatter, I ran from our bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like the flash, ripped open the blinds and threw up the damn glass. The moon on the crest of the new-shaven mound, gave back the life that’s been missing from my dick since I sat down. When, what to my freshly throbbing prick should appear, but eight bent over bitches, painted like reindeer. With a little slave driver, so quick with a whip, I knew in a moment it must be St. Dick. So quick with his crop his bitches they came, and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name! "Now, Trixie! Now, Candy! Now, Betty and Vixen! On, Ruby! On, Honey! On, Barbie and Krystal! From the top of their asses! To the tips of their nose! Now stroke away! Stroke away! Stroke both my balls!" 

Jameson

I try, really fucking try, to make myself feel like I should be here, but no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t feel right without Abby with me. I gave her Alex’s video yesterday and hoped she would have figured her shit out and came home last night, or at least call, but she didn’t. I haven’t heard from her and I’ve only seen her for a few seconds since Izzy and I got here, even that was only from a distance. Everyone around me is laughing, having a good time like we should be, and I can’t help but search for my wife in the crowded room.

“Anyone seen my wife?” I blurt. Everyone around me goes silent, they all know what’s going on. Somehow I think even the guys from Shaft know. Hunter’s the only one to not keep eye contact with me and I know he knows something. I step up to him and stare. “Spill, fucker.”

“I might have seen her taking a leisurely stroll toward the studios with some guy a little while ago.”

“Mother fucker!”

I storm away from everyone, hauling ass to the studios. If she’s fucking cheating on me, she’s going to come clean to my damn face. I push on every studio door until I finally crack one and am hit with Abby’s voice. I expect moaning, but I’m hit with the voice I love to listen to as she belts out some song I’ve never heard. I slip in, settling back against the door and listen. The sadness in her voice catches me off guard and when I look up, the tears rolling down her face break my heart. It isn’t until then that I actually hear the words she’s singing.

“If I scream, I’ll feel like I’m breaking down.

If I cry, I’ll be weaker than I am now.”

I lose track of everything after that, but I know it’s a song about us and not wanting to lose what we’ve got. The blood rushes behind my ears and I slam my hands down on the closest thing I can. Ben jumps in the chair.

“Damn it, Jameson. You scared the shit out of me.”

“Get. Out. Now!” I yell over Abby’s voice coming through the speakers.

It’s a good fucking thing this guy doesn’t argue with me because I’m almost positive I would need bail money if he did. He leaves and I’m left staring at the one person that wasn’t even supposed to be a question in my life. We lost enough time before and now everything is fucked up again and I can’t do a damn thing to fix it. Saying fuck it, I shove through the door into the soundproof room Abby is in and stand there seething while I wait for her to realize I’m there. When she does, her eyes go wide and the room goes silent.

Tentatively, she pulls the headphones off and attempts to wipe the tears away from her face. What she doesn’t try to do, is talk, so I do it for her but it comes out a lot louder than I expect.

“You don’t talk to me! You don’t come home! You won’t work on our marriage! You’re missing time with our kids! But you’ll come in here and write a fucking song about it? Are you fucking kidding me?” I stop for a minute, hoping that she’ll jump in and try to tell me I’m wrong, but once again she doesn’t so I keep going. “What the hell did you think you were going to get from this? Another record? A new tour?”

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispers through the tears.

“Oh,” I say, throwing my arms out to the side. “You don’t know what to do. How about you come the hell home, be a wife, be a mother. All the things you told me you wanted. The things you used to love. How about you tell me what the fuck you want now!”

“You,” Abby sniffles. “I want you, and the kids but I don’t know how to fix things now that I let them get so far out of hand. I know music and I know how much my heart hurts and this is the only way for me to get out what I really need to say.”

“So instead of talking to me and trying to fix things, you just let them go and then wrote a damn song about it?” Every step I take toward her makes her step back and soon she’s backed against the wall. “I don’t want a fucking song or a letter or anything else. I need to be able to kiss you, and touch you. I want to roll over and know you’re going to be there! I want my fucking wife back!”

My hands shake by my side because I need to touch her. Reaching up, I tangle my fingers in her hair and her eyes close, crying harder than before.

“I miss you so much, but I’m afraid that I’ve fucked this up too bad and I won’t be able—”

I cut her off by slamming my lips to hers. She hesitates for only a second before she wraps herself around me. Lifting her off the floor, she wraps her legs around my waist. The short dress she has on shifts when she attempts to get closer to me.

Sex won’t fix this, even I know that, but I can’t stop. It’s been so long since I’ve felt her skin under my fingers that I do anything I can to get to it. Abby moans into my mouth when I knead her ass. The sound, completely intoxicating, reminds me of what I’ve been missing and I can’t stop.

Abby

I can’t get close enough to Jameson. I want every inch of my skin against his but I know that won’t happen right now. I’m afraid if I pull away like I know I should right now, Jameson will realize that this is a bad idea. 

I know I need to tell him what’s been going on. I have to come clean about why I’ve been so distant even though I’m not quite sure how to do that. It’s hard to explain something that you don’t quite understand yourself.

Jameson’s fingers slip inside me. My breath hitches, my eyes close, and I drop my head back against the wall. His lips blaze a path from my chest, up my neck, and he pulls my head forward until he can thrust his tongue into my mouth. I forgot how much I loved kissing him.

“Please don’t stop,” I whimper against his lips.

He doesn’t say anything, but pulls me back into a kiss while freeing his cock and thrusting into me. He fills me completely, thrusting roughly until he has me screaming his name. My fingers fist into his hair as I hold him to me. Jameson pulls my hands away and laces his fingers with mine, pinning them to the wall beside my head. His hips slow down and I tighten my legs to keep from falling.

“You’re my wife, the mother of my children. Please come home,” he pleads.

He has me sitting on the edge of the first orgasm I’ll have in months and he knows it. He uses every trick he’s ever learned about me to keep me from coming until I answer him.

“I had planned on it, but I didn’t want to come home without having all my shit in order.”

Jameson pulls his hips back before slamming back in roughly and repeating slowly as he talks. Each thrust of his hips punctuates each sentence perfectly. “Figure it out at home where you belong. We’ll figure it out together. Like it’s supposed to be.”

How am I supposed to say no to that? The truth of what he says hits hard but I try not to let it show because he’s balls deep inside of me. I know I belong at home, with them, but I didn’t want to drag them down with me.

“I’m going to make you come and then I’m taking you home where you belong,” he promises. “We’ll figure everything out, it’ll all be OK.”

He pulls back, slamming into me until he makes good on his promise. Our heavy breathing fills the room as he sets me down but never stops touching me.

“Promise me that everything will work out.”

“Abby,” he whispers my name but it sounds more like a tortured plea than anything. “Nothing will ever be completely perfect, no matter how much we want it to be. But since perfect is all in the mindset of the people dealing with it, we can get there. My life with you was perfect in my eyes before you ran away. It doesn’t matter what it takes, I’m not letting you go.”

8

Jameson

“Don't move,” I groan. Pulling Abby back against me, holding her there, I groan again when she shifts her ass against my dick. It has been too long since I've woken up with her and I'm not ready for it to be over yet.

She rolls over in my arms, tucking her face into my neck. “I was going to go make breakfast for everyone.”

“If we stay in here and stay quiet they'll sleep for at least another half hour.” If I'm being honest with myself, I don't want to get out of bed because I'm afraid everything that happened and everything we talked about throughout the night will disappear when she’s gone. Abby’s quiet for a while, doing nothing but drawing aimlessly around the tattoos covering my chest and I'm fine with that because at least she's here.

“Are you sure we're going to be all right?”

“We’ll be fine. I just need you to talk to me from now on instead of getting stuck in your own head and letting shit get this bad again. I’ll do anything to keep you here with me where you belong.”

I draw my fingers up and down her spine, shifting her t-shirt out of the way. I’m content for the first time in months and just when I don’t think it can get be better, kids start filtering into the room. Zander is the first, running to her side and squealing when he sees Abby in bed. Sophia isn’t far behind him, but is more hesitant. She crawls up on the other side of me and tucks into my side. She’s still upset over Abby’s broken promises to be places for her, but hopefully they can work through them together. Izzy, on the other hand, is a totally different story. She walks in the room, sees Abby, and turns back around.