Something to Believe In (The Renegade Saints Book 4) (6 page)

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Authors: Ella Fox

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BOOK: Something to Believe In (The Renegade Saints Book 4)
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It seemed like he went out of his way to ignore me during dinner, so I tried to do the same. When everyone was finished eating, people started migrating down a set of stairs at the back of the restaurant. I turned to Lacey and asked what was up.

“So cool!” she exclaimed. “They book the downstairs for private parties. There’s a dance floor, pinball machines and two old-fashioned photo booths down there.”

When we got downstairs I grinned from ear to ear as I took it all in. The room was the bomb. The dance floor had a classic black and white checkered pattern and Elvis was blaring from the speakers. Everyone was spread out—some on the dance floor, some at the pinball machines, a few in the photo booths and then a bunch were at some tall chrome tables. Against one wall there was a fully functioning old-fashioned soda fountain which Leah and I made a beeline for. We laughed as we got our Shirley Temples, clinking glasses before heading to the pinball machines.

Ninety minutes and two Shirleys later—plus a few stops in the photo booth, three games of pinball and a wild dance with Rodney, one of the sound guys, to Chubby Checker’s The Twist—I was sweating, out of breath and in need of the ladies’ room. I was also feeling lighter and happier than I had in longer than I could remember, which was incredible. It felt amazing to let loose and have fun.

When I came out of the bathroom, I found Tyson leaning against the wall just outside the door. I’d just gotten my heart rate down from dancing but one look at him jacked it right back up. It was shameful how sexy he was, really. His back was against the wall, and his sculpted arms were folded over his drool-worthy chest.

“Is there something going on with you and Rodney?”

The abrupt nature of the question took me by surprise. Rodney was really sweet and fun but we had zero chemistry. Anyone with eyes and a brain would’ve known that.

“Huh?”

“You were dancing with him,” he said. “Why?”

My hackles rose as I let out a huff of breath and planted my hands on my hips. He had a nerve treating me like an Ebola patient one second and asking me if I was involved with someone the next. I thought he was a nosy bastard.

“I fail to see how who I dance with is any of
your
concern,” I answered icily.

In a flash, he stepped forward, guiding me backwards in the process. I didn’t realize we were in the bathroom until he kicked the door shut behind him before turning to lock it. He then continued coming toward me until there was nowhere left to go and my hip touched the sink. My lips parted as I stared up at him in shock.

“Are you insane?” I snapped.

“Apparent-fucking-ly.”

And then, he kissed me. When I gasped, he touched his tongue to mine and I instinctively kissed him back. It was the equivalent of lighting a match next to a container of gasoline. Our kiss wasn’t a soft and gentle exploration. It was teeth and tongue, heavy breathing and absolute carnage. Tyson’s lips, tongue, and taste were a heady combination created to rock my world, obliterating anything that had come before. My hands went to either side of his head, my fingers grasping his hair while I kissed him with a hunger I’d never experienced. We were lightning in a bottle, an explosive force that wiped thoughts of anything or anyone else in the world out. I whimpered when he grabbed my ass and pulled me closer. Feeling his erection pressed against my stomach through my dress made me wet and desperate.

A growl rumbled from low in his throat as I rubbed against him. Using his hold on my ass, he lifted me up and turned. My legs instinctively went around his waist in the second before my back was against the bathroom door. I shuddered when I felt him yanking my dress up, bunching it at my waist before settling his hands on my bottom again. All that separated us from heaven was his clothing and the pair of tiny white lace underwear I was wearing. I squeezed tight as he started rubbing his erection against me, the roughness of his jeans against the lace of my panties making me want him more than ever.

I trembled as he slid one hand over my dress and cupped my right breast firmly. Desire had such a hold of me; I didn’t even care that we were in a tiny bathroom at a work event. I wanted him, desperately. My hips moved up to meet his thrusts against my core again and again. We kept right on kissing. The way we were going at each other was savage and animalistic. I didn’t care—I’d never felt better. When he started pinching my nipple, I damn near lost it because I wasn’t just wet for him; I was drenched.

The grip he had with his free hand on my ass was so firm there was no doubt it would leave a mark. I didn’t care. I ground myself on him faster, desperate sounds coming from my throat as we kissed like we were being reunited after he arrived back from a two-year submersion on a submarine.

My heart banged against my ribcage furiously as I got closer and closer to orgasm. I wasn’t just reaching for it; I was galloping. When I got there, I ripped my mouth from his and threw my head back, banging it against the door. I barely noticed because as it happened Tyson’s mouth locked onto my neck and the hot wet suction intensified my pleasure to such a degree I was practically putty in his arms. He bucked against me over and over again, the friction keeping me in orgasmic orbit for longer than I’d ever experienced.

When it was finished, I was a trembling mess. Tyson dropped his head onto my shoulder, his breath fast and hot against my neck. Opening my eyes, I un-fisted my hands and ran my fingers through his hair. I realized I could see us in the wall mirror over the sink, and I bit my lip as I took in the sensual visual. My legs locked around his waist, and his face was buried against my neck. My kissed swollen lips were a sight to see. I couldn’t believe I’d just dry humped my way to a massive orgasm with the guy who earlier in the day couldn’t even look at me.

Tyson went from relaxed to stiff as a board the instant someone banged on the bathroom door.

“Yo,” a familiar sounding voice I couldn’t quite pinpoint yelled, “what’s going on in there?”

I was rigid, my eyes wide with shock. Tyson lifted his head and shook it before mouthing the word quiet at me. I nodded my understanding.

“I’m in the bathroom,” he answered.

“Doing what?”

“Fucking bathroom stuff!” Ty bellowed.

“Open the fucking door, Tyson,” the voice demanded.

I realized it was Cole and he sounded worried.

Setting me down, Ty stepped back and glared at the door. If looks were fire starters, it would’ve been in flames.

“I’m not opening the fucking door, asshole. Chill your tits before you have a goddamn rack attack. I’ll be out in a second.”

“Open the door or I’m kicking it down,” Cole answered.

There was no doubt Ty was frustrated. His jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair before shuffling me to the side. Undoing the lock, he opened the door a crack.

“What the fuck, Cole?”

Cole wasn’t about the cracked door. Completely ignoring Ty’s obvious desire for him to stay out of the bathroom, he pushed his way in.

He stopped dead when he saw me standing in the corner.

“Well, shit,” he said. “Wow. This went down quicker than I thought it would.
Interesting
. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to find you in the bathroom doing this.”

“As opposed to what?” Ty asked stiffly. “
Drugs
?”

Cole winced as he turned back to Ty. “You’ve been acting weird. I had to check, man. You’d do the same for me if the situation were reversed.”

Ty sighed and nodded once, letting Cole off the hook.

“So now that we’ve established I’m not in here shooting or snorting something,” he said calmly, “it’s time for you to move along.”

“Right,” Cole said as he backed toward the door. “Of course.”

“And you won’t run your mouth, correct?”

Cole gave Tyson a wry look. “I’m not a talk show host.”

Ty snorted. “You sure? ‘Cause if Sylvia calls me tomorrow I won’t even be a little bit surprised.”

Instead of reassuring him, Cole threw his head back and laughed. “I didn’t know you meant I couldn’t tell
Gram
. We both know I probably will. Maybe not tomorrow, but I can’t promise it won’t come up,” he teased before opening the door and walking out.

No sooner had the door shut behind him than it swung open again. Leaning his head in he looked at me and wiggled his eyebrows.

“I forgot to say—nice hickey.”

I gasped at the same time Ty let out a tortured sound. Rushing to the vanity, I turned my neck and looked in the mirror, letting out a squeak when I saw it. I was twenty-five years old, and I’d never had a hickey until Tyson Allen took me into the bathroom and made me forget there were other people on the planet. In the aftermath, I had a mark forming on the lower portion of my neck.

“How wonderful,” I mumbled.

I turned around to say something to Ty, only to be completely dumbfounded as I realized he was leaving.

Without. Saying. A. Word.

I sprang forward before the door could shut all the way and grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him back into the bathroom.

“Are you kidding me right now?” I shrieked.

For a second I thought the expression on his face looked a lot like fear, but then his eyes went cold and he looked at me as though he’d never laid eyes on me before.

“What?” he asked.

I couldn’t believe what a douchebag he was being.

“I’ll tell you what, buddy! Am I supposed to say nothing while you bail after what just went down? Because it’s not happening,” I sniped angrily.

He shrugged. “You have any idea how many chicks I’ve fucked around with against bathroom walls or on tour busses? Hundreds. Don’t make such a big deal out of it. It was a moment of temporary insanity. Nothing more, nothing less.”

I felt the color leeching from my face as I gaped at him. I’d just had an orgasm in his arms, and he was acting like nothing unusual had happened. I guess because to him; it hadn’t.

“You’re a real asshole.”

He flinched and looked away. “Does anything I do really come as a surprise to you, Daisy?”

It did. Even with what a standoffish prick he’d been, while I was in his arms I’d never once considered he’d be so dismissive afterward.

I should’ve known better.

“I guess not,” I conceded angrily.

I stood up straight and threw my head back proudly. He thought he was King of the World, but he wasn’t. I deserved more than to be treated like I was nothing more than garbage. It took everything I had to maintain eye contact as I took two steps forward toward the door. When I got there, I gestured with my hand for him to step aside. He watched me like I was a ticking time bomb as he moved. I left the bathroom without another word and didn’t look back over my shoulder.

As I walked back to the table, I made myself a promise. Tyson Allen would not break me. I was strong enough to make damn sure he never saw how much his attitude hurt me. He wasn’t worth it, not one little bit.

I had wanted him to stop ignoring me, but after what happened in the bathroom, I hoped he never acknowledged me again. He could crawl back to hell as far as I was concerned.

 

I
hated the way I felt. Out of control, desperate and, fuck, even scared. I’d heard the sound again when she was in my arms the night before and it was completely screwing with my head. I spent so long avoiding the sound I’d become frightened of it. There was no middle ground for me. Early in life it had meant something positive, but after the New York sidewalk dead man seizing experience, I’d come to despise the sound. The first day I met her and I heard the beat twice, I was shaken. Then in the bathroom when we were together and I heard it, for a fleeting second it felt like I was home.

The thought shook me to my fucking core. I didn’t have a home anymore, not really. I had a place to lay my head and invite people to hang out in, but it wasn’t a home.

If drugs had still been my go-to coping mechanism, I’d have pulled out my trusty kit to use the needle to take everything away. Instead, I channeled the need to escape by deciding to work out. I got up early— don’t laugh too hard that ten in the morning is early to me. I normally slept ‘til noon, but sleeping after what happened in the bathroom was a wasted effort. Once I was awake and had some coffee and eggs in me, I got my ass into the gym and worked out like I was training for a triathlon.

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