Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights) (10 page)

BOOK: Rough Rhythm: A Made in Jersey Novella (1001 Dark Nights)
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This was getting out of hand.

Twenty yards away, Lita was bent forward on hands and knees, digging with a hand shovel in the dirt. It was a good goddamn thing he’d sent the rest of their landscaping crew to another section of the property to work, because anyone seeing that hot, young backside swaying in the air but him? Not. Happening. The men had already shown way too much interest upon arrival, asking for pictures and autographs when recognition dawned.

James had a lot of experience steeling himself against the urge to scoop Lita up and carry her away when men spoke to her on the road, their familiarity with her persona making them way too chummy. So he’d gritted his teeth and gotten through ten minutes of listening to Lita charm the crew out of their fucking minds before sending them far away as possible.

They worked outside a newly built commercial space surrounded by a wooded area. He was supposed to be uprooting a rotted tree stump, but nothing could keep his eyes off the little white strands of frayed denim ticking the underside of her ass cheeks. Every time she exerted pressure on the ground with her hands, her back arched, allowing his gaze to follow the denim seam where it ran down the middle of her pussy. Every so often she would sit back on her heels and stretch, tightening the tank top’s material across her tits, lifting it to expose her stomach.

His hard cock was lodged between the waistband of his jeans and his abdomen. His balls ached with the need to empty. Visions of Lita on her knees like a sacrifice wouldn’t leave him alone.

So why was James enjoying himself so much?

Maybe because they were…talking. Not the usual way they spoke to one another, taunts and warnings issued like cannon blasts. This was different. His secrets were out on the table now. And damn if her plan to replace their first night together with something better—something he could be proud of—hadn’t worked. The guilt that typically sat in cactus form inside his chest was less spiked today. The compulsion to apologize every time they locked eyes had eased. While he still had major reservations about dragging her into the dark fog inhabiting his brain, spending time with her was an aphrodisiac. He craved having her close. Watching her expressions change. Listening to her unique logic.

God, she was something.

“So you were on the water polo team.” She sent him a sly look. “I bet you were beating the chicks off with a stick.”

He wiped the sweat off his upper lip. “You think I’m going to answer that?”

She went back to digging with a half smile on her mouth.
That. Fucking. Mouth
. “Did you have a nickname?” Wanting to hear what she would inevitably come up with, James stayed quiet. “I bet they called you the Torpedo in a Speedo.”

James laughed under his breath. “Nothing as good as Lita Bandita.”

“I’m
still
mad that didn’t stick,” she said, throwing down her shovel. “You cause one little panic...”

“You fired blanks during a show and started a stampede for the exits.”

“And you cleaned it up for me.” She shifted on her knees. “You always cleaned it up. I should have said thank you more.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He wiped his dirt-streaked palms down the thighs of his jeans. Jesus, he couldn’t handle her acting sweet. If she’d been in reaching distance at that moment, she would have been on her back. “Old News is going back into the studio in a month,” James prompted, cursing himself for bringing up a sore subject. As it stood, he wouldn’t be in the studio with them.

“Yeah.” She dragged the tip of her shovel back and forth through the dirt. “It might be good to rehearse once or twice beforehand, right? It’s going to take the Jaws of Life to pry Sergeant from Jasmine and the new house.”

His throat started to ache. “What about you? Don’t you eventually want a house?”

Her laughter sounded forced. “I don’t know. Do houses come with room service?” They fell silent for a few minutes until she spoke again. “An apartment, I think. A two bedroom so I have a place for my kit. Maybe a balcony in case I feel like some late-night bungee jumping.”

“Lita…” James warned.

She turned sparkling green eyes on him, but there was a hint of sadness in them that made him miserable. “There we are.”

James wanted to erase the last five minutes and start over. Go back to when they were teasing each other and she was prodding him for information about his younger days. It had felt so good. Then he’d fucked it up by reminding her he’d left the manager position behind. She was just playing defense by putting them back on more familiar ground of wayward drummer and killjoy.

Had he changed his mind about leaving Old News with a new manager? Since Lita had arrived dripping blood, his focus had been zeroed in on her. The sexual hum that followed them everywhere. Time had come to face facts, though. Before she’d followed him to Modesto, there had been zero chance of James severing all ties. He’d resigned himself to checking up on Lita through the new manager. Now? Now she’d shown up with the obvious goal of shooting down each and every one of his reservations. And Jesus, it was working. She didn’t think he was a monster. She…liked his aggression in bed. Encouraged it.

Could he let her go back to Los Angeles alone? Go on tour without him there to keep her protected? Just thinking about it made his skin feel like ice, even beneath the blazing sun. Still, there was a relentless prickle at the base of his spine. A doubt he’d been harboring since he’d woken up four years ago and seen the discoloration of her fading bruises.

Maybe she liked men like him. Men with violence in their blood. An unhealthy fascination that he would be taking advantage of.

James watched Lita as she dug much harder than before, her frustration with him and their conversation plain. Dirt flew to one side, filtering in through tall grass. He was familiar with this side of her. This shaken Coke can of emotion she turned into right before acting out. Doing something reckless. Usually, it put James on high alert, forced him to play offense before she could make a move. But it was a different Lita that had shown up in Modesto—Lita the planner, the fighter—and he couldn’t read her as well now.

He started toward her, but drew up short when the crew of workmen rounded the building. Five sets of eyes that landed on Lita without delay, widened with appreciation of her position on hands and knees. Feeling his control begin to strain, James cleared his throat loudly until they gave him their attention.

Only one of them had the decency to look ashamed. “Uh. Lunch time, boss?”

“Yeah,” James growled, watching Lita come to her feet. This was it. This was when she flirted with other men or exposed more skin to make him insane. He’d shaken the Coke can and now it would explode all over him.

“You want to come with us, Lita?” the apparent mouthpiece for the crew asked. “There’s a decent food truck back toward the main road. Plenty of room.”

Lita smiled innocently at James and it was a punch straight in the gut. He hoped she could read the warning in his no bullshit expression. Hell would be frozen over before she got into a car with five men he’d known just over a week. If she wanted a scene, he would damn well give her one.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Lita said to the men. “I’m good here.”

James barely managed to hide his shock as the men disappeared from sight. They stared at one another across the expanse of green until the sound of vehicles pulling away could be heard in the distance.

“I’m going for a walk.” Lita took off the gardening gloves covering her hands and tossed them onto the ground before reaching up to loosen her hair where it had been kept in a ponytail since they’d started working. It fell in messy waves around her shoulders and she pushed impatient fingers through the strands to tame it, but the movement had the opposite effect on his body. Her jean shorts slipped down onto slender hips, leaving a thin gap between her stomach and the denim. A place for his tongue. His hands. All the while, she glared at him. “Don’t follow me.”

James felt his blood go from simmer to boil, felt the weight of lust settle low in his abdomen, spreading down to his loins. His hands shook at his sides until he fisted them. Oblivious to the change taking place inside him, Lita turned on a booted heel and stomped toward the wooden area, those little strands of frayed denim taunting him as her ass worked side to side. His dick grew thick and ready for the spot between her legs. He fucking
craved
her. There was no reason among the chaos. Just knowledge that others had wanted Lita, regardless if she’d turned them down. They’d still looked and coveted. Now she was angry and he wanted that anger beneath him. Wanted to harness it, tame it, mate it with his own.

When she turned at the forest edge to flash her middle finger at him, James put his head down and moved. His strides covered ground quickly, but Lita clearly had other ideas. James was about ten feet away when she turned and ran full speed in the opposite direction.

His vision flickered.

 

* * * *

 

Being pissed off and horny at the same time was a deadly combination.

Oh, Lita was fuming as she ran along the shaded dirt path. James thought she was so predictable, did he? Thought she was some walking cliché who needed to resort to jealousy to score points? Well, screw the hell out of that. They were way beyond petty jealousy at this point.

The way he’d looked at her like some wayward teenager, even after she’d come here to make things right burned
. And
it had come right on the heels of him so casually reminding her Old News would be continuing on without him. God, maybe this whole trip had been a waste of her time. He’d made up his decision and the longer she spent here, attempting to change his steel-trap mind, she became more of a fool.


Lita.

She ran faster, her footsteps falling in time with her scattered breathing. Her jagged heartbeat. Plans had gone out the window and now instinct ruled the day. He’d made her feel like the weakest version of herself and now she wanted to return the favor. Or…
God
, maybe this was a last-ditch effort to break through to him. She didn’t know anymore. Could only run away from the idea of living without him. Run away from the girl that had driven him away, the girl James believed her to be.

Tears obscured her vision but she pushed on, ducking off the path and sprinting across a forest floor of soft, brown earth and green, fallen leaves—

Lita’s progress came to an abrupt halt as her feet left the ground. An unyielding arm banded around her waist, yanking her backward into a chest that left no doubt her captor was James. She could smell his singular musk, she could…feel his excitement against her bottom. The evidence that her impulsive run had yielded that effect somehow incited her rage, while still managing to swamp her in arousal.


Stop
.” James rasped the agonized word into her neck but negated the command by thrusting his erection against her backside.

A part of Lita wanted to turn and soothe him, take away the misery she could hear in his voice. But she wouldn’t. If he was determined to send her home a failure, she’d prove a point first. This thing that had kept them apart so long, this facet of him that he didn’t think she could handle? She’d been game for it since day one.

“Stop what?” She tried to pull away, but James hauled her back. “I’m not running anymore. You won’t
let
me.”

His groan lifted goose bumps on every inch of her skin. “Lita, I’m in trouble here. Say the words.”

“Which ones? Fuck you?” She pulled her elbow forward and rammed it back into his stomach, satisfied when his vile curse burned her ear. It loosened his hold long enough for her to pull free and start running—only to be brought down to the forest floor, flat onto her stomach, James’s grip circling her right ankle.

Yes. Yes. Oh my God, yes.
Hot, pulsing anticipation began to trip and skitter through Lita’s veins, racing below her belly button, bursting like fireworks. She clawed at the dirt in an attempt to get away, but being prevented, being pulled backward through the damp dirt to the space beneath James’s hungry body almost blinded her with hunger. She wanted to be forced down and taken. Wanted her body used without apology. Hard.

Now.
Now.

She also didn’t want to ask. She wanted to be
told.
It wasn’t merely the dark brand of lust, but anger and frustration at the man pinning her down. If he wanted it, there was no way in hell she’d give him permission. Her pride wouldn’t allow it.

“Get off me,” Lita said through clenched teeth, attempting to twist onto her back and being thwarted. “I
hate
you.”

“Not yet.” He transferred his weight to one side, creating room to run his palm up the bare back of her thighs, where he fingered the fringe of her jean shorts. “But you will if you don’t say the goddamn words.”

That grating command gave her a burst of energy. Lita threw an elbow back and connected with his collarbone. Nothing. He didn’t so much as flinch. Was he made of granite? Even without seeing his face, she could imagine the tense lines between his eyebrows. Could see brackets around his sensual mouth. Feel the starvation pouring off him in waves. His touch moved higher to palm her bottom, separating her cheeks and squeezing them crudely.

Wetness trickled down between her thighs, forcing her to swallow a gasp.

“We talked about this, Lita.” His tone had changed, grown more predatory, and everything inside her sung in response. “We talked about that tight cradle between your legs and how well I was made to fit there. You’ve been flashing it at me all morning like a dick tease.”

“No, I haven’t,” she breathed, knowing full well it was a lie but liking the way it felt wrong on her tongue. Loved the way wrong suddenly felt right. Vital.

“A liar, too, aren’t you?” He crammed his hand between Lita’s pelvis and the soft ground, working the button of her pants with ruthless movements. Every nudge of his knuckle against her belly set off a chain of sparks inside her. Bright, needy sparks. “What am I going to do with this hard cock, Lita? How am I going to satisfy myself unless I fuck you into the ground?”

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