Talon (Ashes & Embers Book 4) (16 page)

He looks up at me, his wet hair hanging over his face, confusion in his eyes. "Huh?"

"That photographer from the club last night posted our photo and my info, and now I have over a hundred new likes and friend requests and a bunch of new orders for clothes and bath products."

"Baby, that's great."

"The cat even has more followers!"

He smiles but rolls his eyes. "Don't even get me going on the cat having more fans."

I sit on the love seat next to him and Pixie crawls onto his lap, nudging the journal out of her way like cats do.

"It kinda makes me feel weird, though, that these people are only ordering my designs because of you."

He puts the cap on his pen and closes his journal, putting it on the end table next to the love seat.

"Here's the thing, Aze…" He takes a puff of his e-cig. "Most music fans are really loyal and supportive. They try to come to as many shows as they can, they comment on all of our posts online, they send us real mail, they buy all our music and all our stuff, like our band shirts. A huge percentage of them, especially the girls, will also become fans of the girlfriends and wives of any member in any band. I'm not just talking about Ashes & Embers. I'm talking about in general for all bands." He rubs Pixie's head absently as he talks. "A lot of them will become fascinated with you, too, and want to support you or follow you online. It makes them feel close to us. Evie went through this too. She started to get a ton of emails and her own little fan club of sorts when she and Storm went public."

"That's cool, but I don't want people to only like my designs because they're
your
fans," I say. "I want them to really like me and my products."

"First of all, people ain't gonna spend money buying your stuff unless they really like it. Most people don't have money to burn. So once you start seeing repeat buyers, you'll see for yourself it
is
your stuff they want. Knowing they're supporting the wife of one of their favorite band members is a little added bonus for them."

I nod slowly, trying to process this new world I've been thrown into. "Yeah, I guess that's true." I never really thought about all of this before—or even remotely considered it.

"It is. Look, so maybe this is kind of a jump-start for your business, and I know it's probably not how you wanted to get known, but enjoy it. Your designs are hot. People will love them and pay for them. If they found you through me and the band, who cares? Tons of people got popular and successful due to connections. There's nothing bad about it. Have faith in your designs. Trust me, they'll sell themselves."

I smile at him for making me feel better. "I hope so. And if we design together, the fans will really go crazy, don't you think?"

He nods and blows a puff of vapor into the air. "I do, babe. I think it will be great for both of us. I like the idea of us having a little side business together. A lot of musicians do. Do you have a business name or anything like that?"

Shaking my head, I bite my lip, feeling a little embarrassed that I don't. "No. I just used my name."

"We should come up with a business name, a logo, some packaging, a website like I already mentioned…"

"Talon, really? You think I need all that?"

"Fuck yeah, baby. Let me make some phone calls during the week, and we'll get this all set up right. You could see a lot of money start rolling in from this."

Holy wow.

"Thank you. I appreciate all your help with this. Some of the people online were calling me a gold digger, and I just want you to know I never, ever wanted any of this. I'm not trying to get anything out of you or your fans."

"Fuck those assholes. You, a gold digger? I have to force you to spend money. You'd sit in this house and eat apples and tofu and cut your hair with a steak knife if I let you. Don't listen to that shit, okay? They're just jealous. Unfortunately, it comes with the territory." He pulls me against his chest and puts his arm around me. "I missed you last night," he adds softly. "I really felt like shit when I woke up this morning and realized how bad I fucked up."

I rest my head against his shoulder, resolving myself to forgive him. People make mistakes. "I was really mad and upset, Talon. And scared. I thought something happened to you."

"I'm sorry. Storm and Evie fucking went off on me. Like, both of them at the same time. I thought my head was gonna explode."

I giggle a little. "Good. You kinda deserve it."

"Yeah, I do." He leans his chin against my head. "At least Storm didn't beat the shit out of me like he used to when we were younger. He has a much gentler, yet louder, approach now."

"I was afraid you went home with that blond girl," I admit, playing nervously with the buttons on his shirt.

"What? Not a chance. And I'm glad you didn't go home with Finn." He digs back.

I lift up my head to make a face at him. "Seriously? That's not even funny."

"No, it's not, but I know he's attracted to you, and I wouldn't put it past him to make a move on you."

"He's not as much of an asshole as you think he is, Talon."

His jaw clenches. "Don't tell me you like him."

"I don't dislike him."

He shakes his head in frustration. "We'll have to agree to disagree on that one. But if I ever see him with his hands on you again, I'm going to beat his ass."

I stand up and take Pixie off his lap. "Same goes for your blond. Just because I'm short and shy doesn't mean I'm a wuss. I grew up in the ghetto, and my brother taught me how to fight dirty. I'll kick her fake-boobed, bleached-blond ass into next week."

A huge smirk spreads across his face. "That kinda turned me on. Jealousy means you want me."

"You're twisted. I'm going to feed the cat and make some dinner. You can join us if you'd like."

I'm honestly too excited about all my new orders to continue to stress over some nasty chick pawing at him. I'm just going to have to trust him and try to get used to all these new experiences like fans and skanks.

T
wo months with no pussy
. First, the weeks prior to the wedding, and now the weeks since the wedding. I'm losing my fucking mind with my dick in this prison of commitment to a girl who served it a sentence of life with the possibility of parole for good behavior.

Love.

It's what she wants—and needs.

It's what I didn't think I needed in life.

Could I love her?

Could she love me?

She's annoying. She gets under my skin. She's so fucking
good
. She turns everything into a debate. But yeah, I dig her little ass. And those lavender eyes could pretty much make me beg if she knew how to work them. She makes me laugh. I've never met a chick like her before, and a little over a month into our marriage, I'm starting to think I don't want to live without her.

Going without sex sucks but I still can't keep my hands off her, always wanting to be touching her, holding her hand, having her as close to me as I can get her. When she hugs me and falls asleep against me, everything just feels
right
. I've never been affectionate or craved closeness with someone before she came along, and now, I catch myself actually daydreaming about her when I'm at the studio practicing or while I'm driving around. I actually had some asshole leaning on his horn screaming at me because I sat at a red light that turned green for two seconds while I was spacing out thinking about how she smiled at me the night before.

I never thought this would happen.

All this I write in my journal, but I don't divulge it to Dr. Hollister during our video chats because I'm not ready to verbalize how I feel yet, even to Asia. It's been a few days since the club disaster, and she's still not quite right with me. I know it's my own damn stupid fault.

She doesn't know this, but I watch her sometimes on the surveillance system, which I can access from my cell phone when I'm not at home. I only watch her in her craft room, and I love seeing her so focused on her work, sitting at the sewing machine, putting clothes on the mannequin she has, talking to the cat, and sometimes she'll have music on and will sing and dance around the room. That silly side of her gets me every time. She truly is in her own little world, and I want to get in there with her.

Closing the journal, I watch the sun set from the huge rock I'm perched on in the backyard. Then I go back inside the house where she's in the kitchen making some kind of dessert that smells delicious, so I beeline in there and find a plate of cupcakes on the counter. Her back is to me as she's rinsing some dishes, so I sneak one and take a big bite.

And gag.

She twirls around. "Talon! No!" She lunges at me and actually sticks her hand in my mouth like I'm a dog and pulls out the cupcake.

"That's a bath bomb!" she yells. "Go rinse your mouth with some water."

Still gagging, I run to the sink and stick my mouth under the tap and rinse it out, spitting the weird flavor out.

"What the hell are you making soap that looks like food for?" I demand, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"People like it! It's cute."

"It's gross!"

"Well, you're not supposed to eat it. Do you just walk around putting anything that looks good in your mouth?"

"Yeah. Usually."

She bursts out laughing. "You're insane."

Staring at the plate of fake cupcakes, I can't believe they're not real food. I still want one. "They look so realistic," I tell her. "You actually made those?"

"Yes. I make soap bars too and scrubs and lotions. It's all made with essential oils and natural creams and scents."

I had no idea this was the kind of bath stuff she made. "Wow. They smell great. Is this why your skin is always so soft? From this stuff?"

Her cheeks turn pink and her head bows down. "Yeah… Probably. Hang on a sec." She disappears down the hall to her craft room and comes back with a little gift box. "This is a vanilla lavender soap bar. Use it when you shower tonight and let me know what you think."

"I just shouldn't eat it, right?"

"No, please don't," she teases back, standing with her hands clasped behind her back, grinning at me and looking adorable.

"What else do you make?"

"Um…sometimes candles and lip balm too."

"Aha! So that's why your lips always taste so good." I give her a sideways glance and grin, fighting the urge to taste her lips right now. "Now I know your secrets."

"I'm glad you like it. I didn't even think you noticed that sort of thing."

"Oh, trust me, baby, I notice what you feel and taste like." Opening the small box, I wink at her and sniff the soap. "We have to tell Evie, Mom, and Rayne about this too. They'll probably love it. And the girls in Sugar Kiss."

"Sugar Kiss, the band?" she repeats with eyes wide like saucers.

"Yeah, we're friends with them. They will totally love all this. Oh—and the stage clothes. I'll bet they would love some outfits. I'll call Sydney and talk to her about it."

"Talon…you really think all these people will buy my stuff? The ones who contacted me online too?" she asks in disbelief.

"Hellz yeah, baby. I got lots of wild ideas for clothes to show you. We're gonna rock their worlds."

Her entire face lights up at my words. "I would absolutely love that. Are you really going to work on designing and fabricating with me? I kinda need your help to do this right. You've seen more of this type of clothing than I have."

"Of course I am. Didn't I say I would? Just don't let me near that sewing machine. It looks dangerous."

Having some "us" activities is something Dr. Hollister mentioned would be helpful, so maybe partnering up with Asia to design clothes will bring us closer together and give us some common ground to stand on.

S
everal times a week
, Asia takes a long bath in the huge, jetted bathtub in our master bathroom. She lights candles, plays soft music on the mp3 player, and now I know she's soaking in these yummy smelling bath bomb things she makes. She always closes the door when she bathes, and it drives me nuts, lying in bed while I know she's just a few feet away, behind that door, naked. I've always respected her privacy, understanding she deserves time to unwind and chill like everyone else does—especially after putting up with me all day. But since she caught me jerking off in the shower, I wonder if she thinks of me and touches herself when she's bathing. The possibility of that has fueled a spark that has been growing into a full-blown inferno inside me for days now. Tonight, something gets me in a mood and I can't take it anymore, so I wait about ten minutes after she shuts herself in the bathroom to slowly push the door open and invade her little personal spa.

At first she doesn't even know I'm there, and I have the pleasure of seeing her lying back, her eyes closed, one leg bent up and peeking out from the bubbles. And damn those fucking bubbles, they're covering everything else.

The universe is doing everything it can to prevent me from seeing my wife naked. I would laugh at that fact if it didn't bug me so damn much. I'm pretty sure karma is slapping me in the face for insulting her so many times, and karma is a bitch who has no fucks to give about my blue balls.

Her eyes suddenly snap open and she jumps when she sees me, water splashing around her.

"Tally, you scared the shit out of me. Why are you creeping around?" She crosses her arms over her chest and a few bubbles float up in the air. I love that my childhood nickname just slipped out of her mouth without her even realizing it. It sounded so intimate on her lips that I want to hear her say it again and again.

"I wasn't creeping; I just walked in. Should I wear a bell around my neck like the Princess?" I lean against the doorframe and gaze at her in the candlelight, her skin dewy from the moist heat, and I can't understand why she doesn't want me in that tub with her.

"What are you doing in here?"

I cross the room and kneel down next to the tub, taking in the way her eyes shift to my naked chest.

"I wanted to see your bath bomb in action." My eyes travel languidly down the length of her in the tub and catch glimpses of pink water under the bubbles.

"This one is actually a bubble bomb. See the bubbles?" She lifts her hand and blows the bubbles up over my head.

I grab her hand and bring it to my lips. "I see that. Pink water, too. Very pretty." I close my eyes as I kiss her hand, tasting the sweet water on her. "What flavor are you tonight? It's yummy."

She swallows and I can feel her hand trembling ever so slightly in mine. "It's cotton candy."

I nod my approval. "I like it. A lot."

She shifts in the water, lowering the leg that was up and raising the other, giving me a quick glimpse of her thigh as she does so.

"Do you think about me when you're in here?" I ask her, releasing her hand so I can dip my fingers into the warm water.

"I think about you all the time."

My heart does a funny lurch I'm pretty sure it ain't never done before. "Well, that's just about the best thing I've ever heard."

I let my hand slide farther into the water until it's gliding over her outer thigh under the bubbles. "The water feels slippery," I comment. "So does your skin."

"It's from the oils."

Stretching my other arm out along the edge of the tub, I lean toward her face. "I like how it feels. I should be in there with you, all slippery and wet."

"You're too big," she murmurs, locking her eyes on to mine.

Laughing, I kiss her vanilla-flavored lips. "I'm gonna ignore that big comment, baby."

She smiles against my mouth. "You're so bad."

"I know… So, I'm going to have to do this the hard way, then. Since I can't get in there." I slide my hand farther down her leg, over her knee to her calf, squeezing gently.

"Do what?"

"Give you your first orgasm."

A small gasp of surprise comes out of her, and a seductive little grin graces her lips. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I've had orgasms before."

"Not from me." I rub my nose along hers, feeling her breath against my face. "And that's gonna change right now, Mrs. Valentine."

I cup the back of her head with one hand and press my mouth to hers, licking her lips while slowly dragging my other hand up the inside of her leg beneath the water to finally brush my fingers gently across her lower lips. I silently curse the water for not letting me feel
her
wetness.

Her mouth opens to mine and I delve my tongue inside, tasting the heat of her breath and catching the sweet moan she lets out when I push my finger into her warmth. Her thighs part and her hand comes up out of the water to caress my cheek as I let my hand own her, my thumb rubbing her pulsing clit while I slip my fingers in and out of her. My cock throbs like mad in my shorts, begging to get into her.
Holy fuck, is she tight.
Three years of no sex is very, very good.

Her thighs squeeze my hand and she grasps the side of my neck, her breath panting against my mouth, and I know she's there already. I really want to drag this out, tease her and make her crazy, but that seems cruel right now when she's writhing her hot little core all over my hand and devouring my lips.
I like horny little Asia. A lot.

I want to pull her out of the tub and take her right here on the floor, putting an end to this madness, but I'm hell-bent on sticking to my promise to her, even if my dick hates me.

Her walls clench and drench around my swirling fingers up inside her, while the rest of her body arches up, pressing against me, her muscles tightening and quivering. I kiss her softly as she recovers from the first of many sexual escapades I have planned for her now that the doors have been opened, so to speak.

"Who's my girl?" I whisper against her ear, moving my hand up to caress her stomach.

"Me," she answers breathlessly.

"That's right."

My girl. The last thing I thought I would ever want, and now, all I could ever want.