Beats (8 page)

“Then we’ll get a hotel room.”

“You have money for that? Because I don’t.”

“Shades’s dad owns a hotel chain,” Toombs says. “Bet there’s an Armstrong Suites in Baton Rouge.”

So now Toombs is in? Is he disappointed? Ambivalent? Elated? Does he think I’m a slut? Will he view me as just another lay? It would be really nice to know what he’s thinking right now, and his face isn’t giving up much.

We’ll hit Baton Rouge a couple of days from now. That’ll give me plenty of time to change my mind. “Maybe.”

“Then it’s settled.” Rax pops another chip in his mouth as if we’ve been discussing the weather rather than organizing a ménage à trois.

I look to Toombs for a reaction. I get nothing.

“So, that’s it? We just meet up in a hotel room and have sex?” I’m so raw, I can’t halt the accusation on its way out of my mouth. I secretly hoped Toombs would rescue me from Rax’s clutches. He’s sitting in front of me, yet he’s nowhere in sight.

“Yep. We fuck. We have a few mind-altering orgasms apiece, then it’s back to business. Will that be a problem for you?” Rax slithers his arm around my shoulders.

“Nope,” I lie.

“Good. Between now and then, I want you to think about our little play date long and hard. Fantasize about it. Dream about all the shit we’re gonna do to you. Let those fantasies take root and burrow through every thought.” He slides a finger up my forearm, rousing the hairs to attention. “Does it make you wet, knowing you get to share us?”

I don’t answer, but yeah, it kinda does.

Rax grins.

I search the table for a distraction. Flirt. Letty said to flirt. I stab a straw into my glass, accidentally slinging some tequila on to the table. Staring at Rax and staving off the rampant humiliation, I bring it to my lips and swirl my tongue around the plastic like Letty did to the drumstick. Toombs lifts a brow. Not a “damn-that-was-hot” brow, but an amused, “you’re-a-total-drip” one.

The moment is as ruined as I am.

Total. Freaking. Loser.

I slurp down a sizeable portion of the drink in a desperate hope of disappearing into a passing vortex from another dimension. I wait in vain.

The waitress takes our orders. Toombs and Rax talk shop as if I’m not there. Rax wants a new flanger and phase shifter for his guitar. Toombs needs replacement strings. I’m invisible.

Food arrives. I barely touch mine. More drinks are poured.

Before I know it, my head surfs on a wave of alcohol-induced dizziness. Doesn’t take much to get me drunk in the first place, and chugging three margaritas on a mostly empty stomach does wonders for annihilating unwanted sobriety.

Rax gets up to pee. Emboldened by tequila and a need to snag Toombs’s attention, my mouth runs off without permission. “What happened?”

Toombs succeeds in totally unnerving me with only a quirk of his head. “What happened to what?”

“Us?” I swirl the contents of my glass and down the remainder. “Everything was fine until I caught you and Rax on the bus. Then you shut down and quit talking to me. I did a damn lap dance for you in Miami on New Year’s.”
Shut up, Jinx. Shut up while you’re ahead.
“Don’t deny you were looking, either. If I’d said the word, you would’ve been totally up in me that night. So what happened?”

Toombs shakes his head as if he’s thoroughly disgusted.

I lean forward. “Is that it? I make you sick? Why do you want to screw me with Rax? You just doing his bidding like a good submissive boy? Or is it something else?” Please, let it be something else.

His jaw ripples. “You don’t have a fucking clue.”

“No, I don’t. So why don’t you enlighten me?” I
have
to keep him talking. “I don’t care if you’re gay—”

“I’m not gay.”

“Okay, you’re bi. And you’re in love with Rax. I’m not stupid. I just want to know where I stand.
If
I stand.”

His liquid silver eyes harden to sharp gray moonstone. “I’m not at liberty to discuss my situation with Rax. It’s none of your fucking business. Leave it alone.”

The slap of his words stings. I nod. “Okay. I’ll just bend over for both of you, let you do what you want, and walk away like Rax said. I got it. Yep.” I scoot out of the booth. “I’ll see you in Baton Rouge. Until then, don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even mention my name.”

I beat back the tears with a couple of blinks in quick succession, throw down a twenty on the table, and hightail it toward the door.

“Jinx—” Toombs calls behind me, his voice frosty with frustration.

I throw a hand up to ward off any further discussion and keep going.

Stupid jerk.

Step Six:
Initiate Operation Blow-Off

February 22 – Lafayette, Louisiana

Letty’s latest piece of advice is to blow off Toombs, which is a no-brainer after our spat at the Mexican restaurant a few days ago. As hard as it is, I haven’t said three words to him. A few grunts here and there during writing sessions, which still suck thanks to the high intimidation factor.

He made it clear he isn’t interested in getting to know me, aside from us matching up naked body parts and rubbing them together for a couple hours straight. I’m doing my best to come to terms, but pretending apathy and suppressing all this unrequited love hurts.

I’m on the verge of backing out of our “arrangement” for Baton Rouge. I’m way too much of a wimp to go through with it. And keeping it casual—at least with Toombs—simply won’t happen when I’m bleeding pints of
feelings
like an empathic pig in the slaughterhouse.

Let Toombs and Rax have each other. And their groupies or whatever.

The bus is a flurry of motion. We arrived in Lafayette this morning, and the band is getting ready to hit the stage in about twenty minutes. Letty flits around, taking pictures of Shades with her phone. He waves her off, urging her to put on her shoes. Jillian’s outside smoking and talking on her cell to someone about the Baton Rouge gig.

Rax swaggers down the aisle. He brushes my elbow and whispers, “Tomorrow night” into my hair as he passes.

Yeah, in your dreams, buddy. I’ll break the news to him after the show. No need to piss him or Toombs off right before we go on.

I fumble through my bunk sheets, searching for the drumsticks I thought I left there earlier.

“You coming, Jinx?” Letty shoves a foot into her boot and stands.

“Yeah. Be there in a minute.”

She nods and follows Shades down the steps.

I shake out the linens one more time and feel around. Nothing. “Damn it.” I roll open the trundle. Beside the missing sticks I was looking for, a freshly picked yellow wildflower and a note stare up at me. The messy scrawl across the page reads, “Sorry for being a dick.” I whip my gaze right and catch Toombs watching me. He quickly fiddles with something in his own trundle.

My pulse takes off at a sprint.

“Hurry up, Toombs,” Rax calls from the front as he hops down the stairs.

Toombs and I are alone on the bus. We stare at each other for a good fifteen seconds. The sweet scent from the flower rises from the drawer. Why did he leave this for me? Why the note? Why—

Heavy leather and clinks of steel toes thunder toward me. Toombs plows into me like a bullet and tangles his arms around my waist, catching some of my hair in his splayed fingers. His lips crash into mine and swindle the oxygen right out of my lungs.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

Toombs is
kissing
me.

I’m dizzy, drunk from his touch. His lips are softer than I imagined. Gentle. Giving. Tender. And Jesus, up close he smells divine—a combination of the cinnamon gum he chews and the bottle of cheap body wash I’ve sniffed in the shower a dozen times. On him, it’s heaven.

The pounding in my ears intensifies, matching the beats pulsing in one of the thick veins in his neck. I can’t see them, but I can
feel
them.

Shit. He’s watching me. I snap my lids shut and hold them down tightly. My body shakes all over, but his wiry arms support me with unexpected attentiveness.

I was right about him. He’s a good man. His kiss proves it.

I knew it.

“Yo, Toombs. Let’s book,” Rax hollers from outside and bangs three times on the metal hull.

Toombs breaks the kiss. My eyes flutter open, and my jaw quivers without his lips to keep me steady. I’m out of breath. Out of my mind. Out of words.

“I’m coming,” he yells back, gaze locked on mine.

I’m a hot mess of confusion and elation and shock. A ball of nerves under the influence of a cattle prod.

“We’ll talk later.” He fiddles with some strands of hair draped across my sleeve.

Fighting with my uncooperative lungs, I nod. When he releases me, I lose track of the rhythm our pulses drummed up together. The disconnect jars me, throws me out of the perfect balance we shared.

He dips his head. Heat floods my cheeks as he turns away and leaves me gaping after him.

Oh. My. God.

Why did he kiss me? He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with my lips back in San Antonio when I walked in on him and Rax with their groupie. What changed?

Eager to make sense of this new development, my mind sifts through the facts. Rax was with us the night Toombs jerked away from my lame attempt at a lip lock. Just now Toombs waited for Rax to get off the bus to kiss me. Maybe Toombs didn’t want Rax to see us?

Again, why?

Do I dare conclude he
likes
me and doesn’t want Rax to know?

What kind of power does Rax hold over him that Toombs has to hide his affection for someone else?

I know the answer. Rax made it clear he wants me for himself—if only for casual sex. He views Toombs as his rival, and as his sub, slave, or whatever he is, Toombs must do whatever Rax tells him. He doesn’t want Rax to know his feelings for me because it’ll put them in direct competition with one another.

This fucked-up lust triangle really muddies the already choppy water. But I now have an unexpected ally in Toombs. And a damn good reason to follow through with our “meeting” tomorrow night.

But can I give my body to Rax in exchange for a chance at winning Toombs over?

I touch my lips and shut my eyes, replaying the kiss in my head. The butterflies in my stomach relaunch, and that out of control, dizzy feeling returns.

To taste Toombs on my lips again, hell yes. I’ll give Rax whatever he wants.
Anything
.

I pick up my drumsticks and roll the trundle closed. I march purposefully off the bus to the parking lot where my bandmates wait. Toombs makes brief, silent contact. The beating butterfly wings pick up their strokes, making my gut tumble and my sex drive roar.

“Are we ready to rock?” Jillian tosses her cigarette to the ground and crushes it under the toe of her designer shoe.

Mumbles of agreement bandy between us.

Yes, I’m ready to rock. I stare at Toombs. I’ll rock him with drumbeats tonight and heartbeats tomorrow. Rax can have our leftovers.

I head for the venue and don’t look back. Louisiana will be my bitch. I’m taking no prisoners.

Step Seven:
Talk So Dirty, He Needs a Bath to Answer You

February 23 – Baton Rouge, Louisiana

“So, Rax asked Shades to get him a suite for two nights in Baton Rouge.” Letty beams as she peels a banana.

“
Two
nights?” I thought we agreed to one.

The bus jostles as we hit a pothole.

“Wonder what he’s planning to do with all that…space.” She winks and punches my arm from across the table. “Holy shit, Jinx. You’re gonna do them both, huh? Fuck! You lucky bitch.”

I duck my head and shoot a glance to the back of the bus where the guys are working out some guitar riffs. “They’ll hear you.”

Letty continues as if I haven’t spoken. “Man, you tore it
up
on the skins last night. And don’t think I didn’t notice that shit between you and Toombs onstage. I saw you checking each other out. It was fucking hot. The chemistry between you sizzles.” She leans closer. “And tonight, shit is gonna
scorch
with Rax involved. He’s a cunt bag, but the dude can fuck. I’m just sayin’.”

My stomach clenches. “It’s just a…fling. One or two nights at most, then we all go back to the way it was.”

“Yeah. Right. Good luck with that. Once you get a taste of Toombs, you won’t be forgettin’ nothin’.”

I frown. What does she mean? “No. This is a strictly casual arrangement.”

“Uh-huh.” She bites into the banana and tosses her spare one across the table to me. “What are you gonna wear?”

Clothing sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it? “I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Need some lingerie? I’ve got something slutty you can borrow.” Yellow fruit-mash muffles her words as she talks and chews at the same time.

“Ah…That’s okay.” Last thing I want to borrow is Letty’s sex romp attire. I’d just as soon be naked. Hell, any clothes I’m wearing probably won’t last long anyway, right?

She swallows and pops her lids wide. “That reminds me. Time for step seven. You gotta talk dirty once you get the dicks in you. Talk so dirty, he needs a bath to answer you. Guys love that shit. You planning to do them both at once or you gonna let ’em take turns?”

My jaw drops and creaks on its hinges.

“What? You need a fourth?”

“No, I don’t need a fourth.” I guess I hadn’t thought
any
of this through. “I was just going to play it by ear.”

“No, no, no. You go in with a plan. And you lay down the ground rules.”

“Like…?”

“Like condoms. Only hole bodily fluids are allowed is in the mouth.”

I wince.

“You don’t like to swallow? I guess cum’s an acquired taste. Me? I’d have it for every meal if Shades would cooperate. Oh, and Rax? I’m pretty sure that dude can come at will. Don’t let him hog you. Toombs deserves equal time, if not more.”

Boiling blood rushes to my face. Somebody shoot me. Now. What the hell have I gotten myself into?