Revue (13 page)

“Hmm…”

“No, look … sorry. I’m just a little confused. But I do want to say thank you, again. You were amazing on the bridge today.”

He winked. “So were you.”

“Ha! Amazingly pathetic.”

Embarrassed, I adjusted my cutlery, setting it out in front of me.

“Hey!” he said, reaching out to clasp my hand. “You were amazing. You were fucking terrified, and yet you kicked that bridge’s arse. Don’t sell yourself short.”

I looked at his hand resting on mine. “Josh, what are you doing? What are
we
doing … here … now?”

“Waiting for some slow-arsed waiter to take our drinks order.”

I sighed and met his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Corinne, we are having dinner and talking. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” I asked, my expression, disbelieving.

“Yes, that … and I’m convincing you to give me another chance.”

“Another chance at what?”

“Another chance at us.”

“There was an us?” I asked, bewildered that Josh would even insinuate such a thing.

His finger danced across the top of my hand, its delicate glide intimate and beautiful. It flamed my cheeks. “Sweetheart, the moment my lips first touched yours, there was an ‘us’ … until I fucked it up this morning.”

I blinked. Twice. This was news to me. Nice of him to let me know, though. “You still haven’t told me why you did that.”

He retracted his hand and ran it through his hair. “Yes, I have. What I did is all I know.”

“Hang on a second,” I said, shaking my head and massaging my temple. “So what you’re saying is that you expect me to give you a chance, only for you to then chase me away with your harsh and dishonest words? Why? Why would I do that?”

“Because I really want you to. And because I want to try not to do the chasing away and harsh bullshit words part.”

My headache went up a level, but so did the beat of my heart. “I don’t get it. We’ve only known each other for a few weeks. Why me? Why want to change who you are for me?”

“Because, this morning, when you came apart underneath me, I came apart too.”

“What does that even mean?” I asked, beseechingly.

“It means that everything I’d known up until that point blew to smithereens when you cried out my name.”

Wow!
All I could do was stare.

“It means that I want you. Want more. Want to try.”

I stared some more.

“It means I’m asking you to give me a chance at being what
you
want.”

Blinking ensued.

“But you … you don’t … no, you don’t do relationships,” I stuttered, softly, completely astounded. 

“No, I don’t. But you make me want to try to do one.”

“And what if you can’t?”

“I don’t know. You tell me?”

Silence settled as we took each other in over the flickering flame of the candle. Josh wore an expression of unnerve, vulnerability, his eyes dancing nervously in their sockets. It stabbed at my chest and heightened my doubt. Yet it also pulled on the strings attached to my heart.

Unable to hold his intense questioning stare any longer, I fiddled with my napkin. “I don’t know, Josh. I don’t know if you’re capable of what you’re suggesting.”

He sat back in his seat, frustrated, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe I’m fucking not. But I want to try. You make me want to try.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. You just do.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Yes, it is.”

“‘Just because’ is not an answer.”

“Yes, it is.”

“How?”

“Just because.”

“Jesus you’re infuriating,” I growled, crossing my arms like him.

“You’re gorgeous, and sexy as fuck. And you make me laugh.”

A smile teased the corners of my mouth. “Those are better answers.”

He leaned forward, the candle flaming his eyes. “And you make me want to swipe this fucking table clean, lay your body on top of it, tear your pants in two and eat your pussy for entrée, main and dessert.”

Tongue.

Rolled out.

Of mouth.

Hit Floor.

Holy fuck!

“That so?” I choked out, my core tightening as I patted the base of my throat for relief.
Water. I need water.

He nodded, slowly … purposefully.

“Um … well, my pussy isn’t on the menu right now. Would you like to eat something else?”

He shook his head, slowly … purposefully.
Where the fuck is the water?

“Josh, stop playing around,” I whispered, glancing at the other patrons close by.

“Oh I’m not, sweetheart. I want to taste you … and soon.
Real
soon.”

Clenching. Tingling. My pussy wouldn’t pipe down. She was practically throwing her own rave party.
For fuck’s sake, quit it, you insolent mole.

“How ’bout we just try and go one day without fighting. How ’bout that?”

Josh picked up his menu and flicked a page. “How ’bout tonight, on the boat, I whisper in
your
ear.”

I laughed sardonically. “Well, that would be a smart move on your part, because whispering the ‘whisper of fuck’ in someone else’s ear will assure my pussy never touches your lips.”

He looked up and smiled victoriously. “Deal.”

Holy shit!

I wasn’t exactly sure how I felt about Josh’s declaration over dinner. Part of me was figuratively grabbing a bottle of champagne, popping the cork and saying cheers to the world. Yet, the other part of me was checking the locks on the cage that protected my heart. It was shaking that door and reinforcing that it was secure.

My head and heart stood firmly against each other with me in the middle, trying to appease them both. I’d always thought that when true love came along there’d be no battle between the two—that they would just harmonise, and that was how you’d know that what you’d found was the real thing. After the past few weeks, I wasn’t really sure of that notion anymore. I still believed in true love—of course I did. I was just no longer convinced that harmony between head and heart was all that possible. I mean, could our heart really be directed? And could our mind lose all that made it our guiding force? Could there be a compromise between the two, yet love still prevail? Eventually, one would be victorious while the other licked its wounds … surely.

Sighing, I wanted to bitch-slap myself. And I wanted to bitch-slap Josh for making me feel this way. Before he came into my life, I’d liked the notion that true love was beautiful, fluffy and sweet. That it was rainbows, puppies, and floating bubbles. That butterflies fluttered within the confines of your stomach while the sounds of tweeting birds sung in your ears. Yeah, I’m not going to lie—I liked that. To me, true love was the equivalent to a cartoon.

“Slackin’ tonight?” Patsy asked with a smile, as she stopped to sit on the arm of my tub chair.

“Yeah, I had a big day.”

The corners of her mouth lifted higher. “So I heard. Tell me, what on earth made you want to climb a bridge when you hate heights?”

“It’s the Sydney Harbour Bridge,” I exclaimed, no other explanation necessary.

She shrugged. “Fair enough.”

We were on the boat, on our way back to port. The guys were finishing up their performance—a somewhat low-key version of what they’d normally do on dry land—and I’d already taken the photos I’d planned for the evening, wanting iconic landscapes and structures in the background. Thanks to the floor-to-ceiling glass windows that circumvolved the entertainment area, I was successful at achieving this. There was one particular shot of Josh and Brad with the Harbour Bridge between them that I adored. It was fitting, considering the day I’d had.

“So, I also heard that Bugs came to your rescue,” she added.

Biting back my smile, I gestured for her to sit opposite me while shooting a glance at Josh on the makeshift stage. He was performing his “Bad to the Bone” act and enticing a small, intimate crowd of wealthier women. You’d have to be blind not to see that those around us were dripping in money. They had designer clothes and impeccable makeup, their manicured nails being waved through the air with a tinge of haughtiness while clutched to champagne flutes. These particular women weren’t as rowdy as those I’d become familiar with at land-based venues, yet they were still bold, forward, and definitely forthcoming.

Josh stepped off the stage and entered the well-to-do crowd seated in tub chairs around small coffee tables, which were spread randomly around the room. One of said upper-class women tried to slip a one hundred dollar bill into Josh’s pants. He stopped, took it out and placed it back into her hand while whispering something into her ear.

Everything stopped: my heart, my lungs, the blinking of my eyes. I couldn’t swallow through the constriction of my throat, and my stomach plummet … again.

“Good boy, Josh,” Patsy praised.

My head snapped in her direction. “What? Why?”

“Stupid broad is trying to buy extra attention. That’s not what we are about. The guys aren’t allow to accept tips, and that’s exactly what he’s telling her.”

I looked back at Josh, bent over, his mouth near her ear, his hand on hers with the bill between them. “How do you know that’s what he’s saying? He could be telling her where they can fuck later on. Isn’t that what he does?”

Patsy chuckled mildly. “Well yeah, unfortunately. But no, hon, this time it’s not that type of whisper. I can see it in his eyes. I’ve known Josh for a long time. He’s simply being polite and trying not to embarrass the poor rich bitch.”

God, I hoped she was right. I just didn’t hold the same faith that she did. Josh had a history, a reputation for being a slut. And he had it for good reason—because he was one. I knew it sounded harsh, but it’s the truth. Yeah, he’d shown another side to himself these past few days. And yeah, we’d become closer. But I was still wary, unsure … guarded. I was still sceptical that he could change.

Josh had said that he wanted to spend more time with me and see where it took us, but I wasn’t confident enough to believe that that was his real goal. I didn’t know him well enough to say ‘yes, let’s give this a go’ and, because of that, the cage around my heart rattled in warning. Right now, if what my body felt was anything to go by, the mild nausea and thrashing of my heart, I didn’t trust him—I couldn’t

Blinking, I tried to get my shit together by taking in a deep breath, which was when his eyes found mine, his lips still speaking hushed words to the socialite. A smile instantly formed on his face, but it disappeared just as quickly. He looked at the woman and stood upright, retracting his hand and stepping away from her. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Patsy shift ever so slightly in her seat, his sudden withdrawal from the woman appearing to gain her attention. Either that, or she had an itchy bum.

Josh applied a faux smile for the crowd and continued to perform his Bad Boy routine while making his way in our direction. His closing distance made me stir in my seat; he was up to something, I could just tell.

He was utterly delicious, for want of better words to describe what he looked like in his motorcycle get-up. But it was also the air of intensity he held in the way he carried himself. The man exuded confidence with each step he took, each glance he made and each breath he drew. When he was Mr Bad to the Bone under lights and in a room full of wanton women, he embodied intimidation.

Stopping just shy of my feet, he motioned for me to stand with the ‘come hither’ of his finger and a hint of seductive deviltry in his eyes. I stared at his devious digit, as if it would grow a tongue and lick searing fire across my skin, fire I craved would burn through to my very core. But entering the devil’s space, invited, wasn’t something I’d normally consent to. I was smarter than that, and took heed of blaring beacons. Problem was, where Josh was concerned, I was blind to such cautioning light. And fuck me if my legs weren’t as smarter than my head, because they activated, elevating me like an obedient puppet, directly into his arms.
What are you doing, Cori? Sit your arse back down.

He turned his back on me and took hold of my hands, bringing them up to the lapels of his leather cut and slowly guiding them over his shoulders in order to remove it. Again, like a good obedient puppet, I allowed him to pull my strings and command my will.

He then stalked me in a circular motion, taking the cut from my hands and tossing it to Patsy before stopping to press his front to my back.

Time stopped, sans my heavy breathing and pounding heart, the anticipation of what he would do next, simply agonising.

My hair was gently swept from my shoulder and neck, a tickling cool breeze before his chin replacing it. I shuddered. The simultaneous feeling of hot and cold was a strange thing, for in a moment such as this, the result was far from warm. It was an icy shock soothed with a fiery burn. It was torturously exquisite.

“I know what you were thinking, sweetheart,” he whispered against my neck.

I sucked in a breath and willed my eyes to remain open. This was not the time nor place to sink into the bliss of Josh Adams against my skin. It was also not the time to sigh in a heaven-like fashion, when his large, strong hand splayed across my lower abdomen and coaxed my hips to move with his, both of us swaying to the beat of the song.

“You were thinking I wanted to fuck that bitch over there. That I was whispering that very thought into her ear.”

I swallowed.

He continued. “The only woman I want to fuck right now is you.” Josh’s other hand danced across my shoulder and across my collarbone. He then skated his fingertips over my breast, settling them in my left hand. Suddenly, he pulled that hand, sending me spinning away from him, only to be pulled back flush against his chest. Our eyes met, neither of us blinking. He smiled and dipped me backward, his lips finding my neck, the base of my throat, and the tops of my cleavage. That’s when the final note played in the song, essentially ending his act.

The room erupted into applause, yet he and I both knew what he’d just done to me wasn’t an act. I knew from the excessive beating of my heart and dampened underwear between my legs, not to mention his hard cock, pressed against my inner thigh.
Fuck!

Josh pulled me back up before parting with more hushed words. “Did you get all of that, sweetheart?”

All I could do were the things we call smile and nod. In that moment, he could’ve asked me if I were Rudolph’s left testicle and I would still have smiled and nodded. That was what his words and touch did to me.

Josh quickly kissed the top of my hand and gestured for the audience to applaud my participation. He then guided me to take my seat before heading back to the stage.

Shit, it’s hot in here!
I fanned myself down, turning to find Patsy wearing Josh’s cut together with a massive cheesy grin. “Now that’s the other type of whisper we were talking about.”

***

During the bus ride back to the hotel, I was drowning in a sea of nerves and clinging to a life ring of excited anticipation.
Do I give myself to him? Do I go against everything I stand for and take a leap of faith? Do I shirt my inhibitions and let him take me to all the exquisite places he’s promised to take me? … Do I just fuck the man senseless?
I didn’t know. I’d never put this much emphasis on a single person or act in my life. I was so fucking confused.

The bus pulled to a stop in the hotel’s courtyard, and I was about to stand up and either run away or drag Josh to my room by his penis when my phone rang.

I dug it out of my pocket to see Em’s name.
Halle-fuckin’-lujah.

“Hi, babe, how are you?”

“Corinne Annalise Lee. Are you THAT busy that you can’t ring your best friend?”

I sighed, feeling terrible. I hadn’t called her since leaving Albury. Yeah, I’d been busy, but I’d also been dealing with the rollercoaster known as Josh. “I’m sorry. Things have been crazy.”

“How crazy? You know I like crazy. Why aren’t you telling me about crazy?”

“Hang on a second.” I stood up, indicating to Josh with a nod toward the front of the bus, that I was taking my call outside. He nodded back, his expression curious.

Once in the summer night air, I walked a few metres and sat on the curb at the base of the courtyard fountain. “Sorry, I couldn’t talk on the bus. We’ve just returned from a show.”

“How’s it all going?” she asked, the sound of her munching drawing my smile.

“Let me guess … Tim Tams! And it’s going good. Well, the business side of it is. The pleasure side … not so much.”

“What do you mean pleas—”

“Oh my God! I nearly forgot,” I shouted, interrupting her. “I climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge today.”

“Get. Out. Of. Town! You did not.”

“So did! Like a boss … actually, no, not really, I fell apart like the crying acrophobic that I am.”

“Oh …” She crunched her Tim Tam. “But you did it, yeah? That’s awesome. It doesn’t matter how you did it, as long as you did.”

I sighed. “Yeah, I know. Josh helped me every step of the way. Brad was great too.”

“Camera-smasher Josh? And who is Brad? Shit, Cori, I think I’m going to need to pay you a visit on this tour.”

“You can, you know. Well, if you want to. We’ll be at the Gold Coast as of next Monday for an entire week.”

“Hmm… I might just be able to swing something.”

“Really?” I asked, the prospect of seeing Em simply perfect.

“Yeah, the production is on hold until further notice. Legal issues.”

“Shit! Is it serious?”

“Don’t know. They’re being tight-lipped. I’m not too worried though. These things happen all the time.”