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“Damn it, Alan. Stay calm.” Benji gripped his phone tighter and paced the living room, buck-ass naked. It was too early for this bullshit. Silence filled his ears. What the hell? The prick hung up on him. He stuffed the phone in his coat pocket, tossed his and Belle’s scattered clothes into a pile on the futon, and grabbed his overnight bag from the coffee table.
Pounding footsteps and a retching noise echoed beyond the closed bedroom door.
He rushed in and veered to the bathroom.
Belle moaned, heaving over the toilet. Her shoulders trembled.
“It’s all right. Let it out.” He dropped his stuff on the linoleum and lifted her hair away from her face. “You okay?”
“Just embarrassed.” She rested her head on her arm. “Morning sickness sucks.”
He bet it did. Chunks of indescribable food floated in the basin. After flushing the toilet, he sat beside her and cradled her in his lap.
She nuzzled his chest and tunneled her nails through the coarse dark-auburn curls that spread around his pecs and down his abdomen in a thin line.
His cock thickened, grazing her thigh. “Don’t, babe. You’re sick. If we play, you might throw up again.”
“I’ll risk it.” She pouted as he grasped her roaming hand. “Oh, fine. My stomach is a little queasy, so you’re probably right. Ugh. I need to brush my teeth.” She shifted from his hold and struggled to her feet.
He stood and gripped her elbow, steadying her. They shared the small sink and then hopped into the shower. She bent over, turned on the faucets, and brushed her sweet little ass on his cock. Electricity zinged through him. Goddamn it. Keep it together.
Water sluiced over her in driving waves. She rubbed a sudsy cloth across her hard-tipped breasts in languid strokes. Moisture beaded on her eyelashes as she blinked and smiled at him.
“Tease.” His erection throbbed. How the hell could he stay in control when the woman he adored soaped herself down? He wasn’t a fucking saint. He gripped his cock and pumped it. “You bathe, and I’ll watch. If you weren’t sick, I’d take you against the wall and wear you out.”
She laughed softly. “Next time.”
Fucking hell. He leaned back and rubbed himself. Hot water reddened his skin as steam wrapped around him. Pressure built in his testicles and spiraled through him too damn quick. Ahh. Seed exploded from the tip in scorching jets. He groaned, wringing the shaft dry. Water washed away the liquid fire.
“I should videotape you doing that.” Belle winked as he straightened. “You’re my very own porn star.”
He laughed. “I’m game, but I want you in the starring role.”
She flicked his nipple. “It’s not fair you get to orgasm, and I don’t. Maybe after breakfast, if my nausea is gone.”
“Tell me when and I’ll drop to my knees.” He clasped her waist and licked a trail of water down her shoulder blade. “God, woman. Let me eat you now.”
“Tempting, but no. My tummy is growling. Your baby is a demanding little thing when hungry.” She lightly popped his chest. “Switch places with me and bathe so we can get out.”
After she slid by him to wait in the back of the tub, he shampooed his hair and scrubbed himself with the cloth. The flowery scent of her body wash tickled his nose. Cold water suddenly pelted him with stinging blasts. The pipes in the wall popped, echoing around them, the pressure dropping. He finished up and pushed back the curtain.
“Shit.” His breathing sharpened. Gooseflesh raked his arms and legs, the warm air hitting the cold water on his skin. His nuts shrank, drawing tight and uncomfortable. Damn, boys. You’re in the presence of a woman. He shifted sideways, trying to hide his man-junk.
“Here.” She grabbed two fluffy blue towels from a nearby rack and tossed him one.
Whew! He dried off, stepped from the tub, and knotted the thick cotton around his waist. As Belle wiped her hand across the foggy mirror, he finger-picked his tangled hair. Pain shot through his scalp, and he winced. He massaged the abused area and unraveled another tangle.
“You came prepared.” She nodded toward his bag while she wrapped the towel around her.
Yum. The saliva in his mouth doubled. Her cleavage nearly spilled over from the towel.
“Benji? You here?” She snapped her fingers in front of his face.
He drew back and swallowed hard. Wait. What did she say? Oh, right. “Yeah. I—um—packed the bag just in case you asked me to spend the night.” He pulled out deodorant, swiped it under his arms, and dragged on a fresh T-shirt and jeans. The heat of her gaze followed his every move. “I’ll cook. Mind if I raid your fridge?”
“Nope. Please do.” She smiled and combed her crinkly locks.
Better get out of there before he pushed her against the wall and had his wicked way with her. His groin tightened. He pecked her nose and left for the kitchen.
Pepperoni swatted at his leg and wove between his feet.
He tripped, heart leaping, and caught himself on the counter. “Damn cat.” He scowled at the feline, but her large golden eyes guilt-tripped him into scooping kibble into her bowl. “There you go, ball eater. Enjoy.” He scratched behind her ears as she devoured the food.
What to feed Belle? Milk, bottled water, juice, banana-flavored yogurt, banana pudding, and containers of banana nut muffins stocked the fridge. He snorted. How about that? She was a banana connoisseur. He grabbed a carton of eggs, a green pepper, and an onion before scouring the cabinets for oil and a skillet.
“How’s my little Pep?” Belle petted the cat, who lay fat and happy beside the bowl.
Little? The cat weighed at least twelve pounds. He turned on the stove.
“You were on the phone with someone earlier, right?”
Belle leaned on the counter, right where he’d screwed her senseless. Her clingy V-neck tank top clung to her breasts and belly. A belt cinched her loose jeans, which were likely a maternity purchase she hadn’t fully grown into.
“The inside walls are pretty thin, but I couldn’t make out what you said.”
He diced the vegetables on a cutting board. “Sorry about that. Alan called.”
“Oh, no. Mia talked.”
“Yep. Alan told me she returned home upset and irritable, and Mase nagged her until she blabbed. Mason then called him this morning.” He dumped the veggies into the sizzling oil and cracked four eggs in the large skillet. “He’s upset with me.”
“No doubt.” She kissed his whiskered cheek. Fine lines branched her narrowed eyes. “It’s my fault. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”
“Don’t worry about it. I wish I knew what to do about Meghan.” He gritted his teeth and riffled through the drawers for a spatula. “Back in high school, she drank and slept around. Dad and I hated it, but we had no idea how bad her problem was until the police picked her and her boyfriend up for having sex in public. We tried to help her, but she wouldn’t listen.”
“Alan is a pretty straight and narrow guy. I don’t mean any offense, but how did he end up with someone as wild as Meghan?”
“No offense taken.” His gut clenched. “She’d finally cleaned up and held down a job when she met Alan. They married within a couple of months and divorced a year later. Then she moved away and fell into drugs. She and Dad kept in contact, and sometimes she came home to weasel money out of him. I refused to see her.” He grabbed the black pepper shaker from the spice rack and dusted the eggs.
She grimaced. “Did Danny find out about her visits home?”
“Yeah, unfortunately. The poor kid cried a river. Now with Meghan at my place—everything’s a mess. I don’t blame Alan for freaking out on me.” He flipped the eggs and lowered the heat. The delicious scent of fried veggies and eggs filled his nose. “Alan doesn’t believe Meghan’s turnabout. He wants to see her, but I convinced him to cool off first and swing by my place later tonight.”
“Okay.” She tapped her belly. “Do you want to leave after breakfast or stay here until you gotta meet Alan? We could talk or watch some movies.”
“I’m not leaving until I have to, but movies? Nah. I’m taking you to bed after we eat as long as you’re feeling better.” His throat clogged, cutting off his air. He pushed out his words. “I—um—I would like you to be there tonight, too, if you don’t mind.”
Her calming influence and encouraging smile would ground him as he mediated the upcoming screamfest between Alan and Meghan. He shouldn’t subject his girlfriend to his family drama a second time, but hell, he planned to marry her. She’d have to get used to the bullshit eventually. Better start now.
“Of course.” She squeezed his arm. “Thank you.”
“What for? You’re doing me the favor.”
“For including me in your family dynamic. I won’t judge them, or I’ll try not to. Is Meghan why you showed up late at Tempes?”
“Yeah. She wanted to go with me, but there’s no way I would take a recovering addict to a bar. I swear, she was a good kid before our mom passed.” Heat flushed his face. Benji flipped the omelets again. “I also didn’t want to introduce her to your friends. If Mia met her, Alan would find out. Looks like Meghan didn’t have to come after all for that to happen.”
Belle winced, guilt flashing in her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He stroked her cheek and licked his suddenly dry lips. “Did you look at those photos we found on your car?”
She nodded. “I felt sick the whole time, but I made a list of everyone I knew from each photo. If we go on the assumption that it’s one person with a camera, then those people aren’t at fault. I don’t know who would do such a thing, though, so I’m still at square one.”
“What about your ex, Arnett?”
“Anything is possible, but I doubt it. He wasn’t in any of the photos, but he doesn’t hang out at my shows anymore.”
“We should talk about him. Your relationship, I mean.”
“If you insist, but I’d rather whitewash my mind of the whole thing.” She swished her hand, dismissing the comment. After she set the dining table, she filled two glasses with grape juice and popped a vitamin into her mouth. Her throat worked as she sipped her drink.
“Ew. You’re one of those people.” Benji grimaced as she plucked a ketchup bottle from the fridge. He served the steaming food, left the skillet soaking in the sink, and took a seat.
“You’ve never truly tasted eggs until you’ve tried it this way.” Belle shook the bottle as she sat. “I like you in my kitchen. My omelets always turn into scrambled.”
“Happy to cook for you anytime.” Hunger cut down the anxiety gripping his stomach. He cut into the stuffed eggs. “About Arnett?”
She sighed. “He was a big fan and followed me from place to place, no matter where I performed. He always sat at the closest table to the stage or stood right in front. I find it creepy when I think back on it, but at the time, I loved having a groupie.” She swallowed a bite of egg with onion and moaned. “Hmm. Delish. If I paid you to cook for me, how much would you charge per hour? Nah, scratch that. I’ll chain you naked to the stove, but you’ll have to wear an apron. I don’t want grease splatters burning your sexy abs.” She swept her gaze down his chest.
Dirty girl. He rearranged the growing shaft in his pants. “Distractions won’t work.”
“Fine.” She huffed and snapped her shoulders back. “I approached Arnett one night, and we talked for hours. We dated for almost a year, and I toyed with the idea of marriage. Then he met Trista. I told him about our rivalry and what she did to me in school, and he promised never to stray. Everything was fine until he missed a few shows.” She stabbed at the red-soaked eggs, a frown creasing her forehead.
Benji stuffed his face—how else could he not interrupt?—while rubbing his sweaty palm on his jeans. His taste buds tingled from the spice. Let her get through this and reassure her you’re not an asshole.
“A snowstorm canceled one of my gigs, so I headed to his apartment. He’d called me earlier with the lamest excuse ever since he couldn’t make the show. A stomach bug, my ass.” Her voice deepened on the last five words. Belle grimaced at her butchered omelet and forked a bite into her mouth. “Anyway, I had a key. I walked in as he and Trista screwed doggy-style.”
“That’s messed up.”
“No shit.” Belle rubbed her neck. “They’d slept together for over a month before I found out. I vented my anger into my performances and wrote two songs, both of which are on the CD you have. Even though he begged me to forgive him, he never attended my shows again. Arnett and Trista dated for a while, but she dumped him. Now he follows her around like a lost puppy.”
“Damn, Belle. No wonder it’s hard for you to trust me.” How was it possible? Three idiots had cheated on her for a shank like Trista. Why hadn’t they seen the wonderful, brilliant, snarky woman standing before them?
Their loss, my gain.
She traced her finger along the edge of the table. “A bit off subject, but do you remember the off-limits friend I mentioned? The one I slept with after Arnett?”
Benji scowled. Her sexual escapades with other guys interested him about as much as popping a boil on his ass. “The New Year’s guy?”
“Right. I’ve debated telling you this, but you should know in case you guys become friends. You know him. He’s Mia’s brother. We were drunk and—”
“Jim Borden? Are you fucking serious?”
Her brow arched. “Wow, I expected shock. Not anger.”
His spine stiffened. “I’m not angry. I just—hell, I don’t know. I didn’t think you liked the clean-cut, dickhead types.”
“You think Jim’s clean-cut?” Belle laughed and stuffed mangled bits of egg and pepper into her mouth. “I could tell you some crazy stories, but I agree about the dickhead part. You and Jim have a lot in common.”
Wait. What? “Did you just call me a dickhead?”
“Maybe. You are sometimes, but it’s all right. I’m a bitch now and then. We all have our moments.”
Belle’s sassy smile cooled the heat in his veins until the playful light in her eyes disappeared. He seized up again, blood running hot.
“Trista will do whatever she can to get you into bed. If you fall for it, I’ll never forgive you. You won’t have anything to do with our baby unless you take me to court.”
The threat struck harder than if she slapped him. “You and the baby are my future, Belle. I’m not about to ruin that by screwing a tramp.” Benji shoved the last few bites of food in his mouth, washed it down, and stood to rinse his plate and glass in the sink. Water splashed his hands as the hair on the back of his neck prickled. He turned and faced Belle. Indignation sharpened his tongue, but her finger on his lips silenced the words.
“I believe you, but I’ve walked this road before. After Arnett, I lost a bit of myself. I packed up most of my clothes—everything colorful—and bought lots of black and gray items from some thrift stores. I’m a naturally angsty, moody person, but Arnett’s betrayal hit me hard.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “I’ve worked through the depression, and I’m okay now, mostly. I met you the same day I pulled out some flirty dresses from the boxes under the bed. I felt good, confident, and stronger than I had in months, so I took a chance on a handsome stranger.”
“And I fucked you over.”
“That’s life. I gave up for a while but never again. If you tell me you’ll always respect me and never stray, I’m yours. If you break my heart, I’ll piece it back together and try again with someone new.”
Her admittance weakened his knees. He hugged her and inhaled her floral scent. His nose twitched. “Why does Trista hate you? Jealousy? If she sings Top 40 crap, she’s just another drone. You and your songs are memorable.”
“Definitely a drone.” Belle pulled back. “We met freshmen year in band class. Back in middle school, I was the only guitarist. Same for Trista at her school. You’d think we would’ve become besties since we both love the same instrument, but she always tried to upstage me and convince the band director he only needed one guitarist.” She trailed her fingertips along the neckline of his shirt. “Her game never worked, so she turned her claws into my boyfriends. Every guy I crushed on liked her more than they did me. After she stole the second one, I stopped dating. Competing with her wasn’t worth it.”
“The bitch needs a good smack.”
“I’ve done it. We’ve fought like cats and dogs a few times, and I slammed her head into a locker once. My parents were proud of me for standing up for myself and took me out for a big dinner even though I got expelled from school.” Her cheeks flamed red, but she notched up her chin.
He laughed. “I’m impressed. Remind me to keep you away from lockers, though.”
“Ha ha.” She smirked and lightly popped his arm. “It’s a horrible coincidence she moved to Denver. Even before we met up again a few years ago, my luck with guys still fell flat.”
“Belle, I—” God, the pain and humiliation she’d suffered. If only he could find and bitch slap Trista, but his dad had raised him better than that. “Whenever Trista is around, I want you to flaunt me like I’m a boy toy. Touch me like you own me. She’ll never have me, never hurt you again. I want you to rub it in her face.”
“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Well, hold up. I’m not done. One of your lyrics last night struck a chord with me. A lot of them did, actually, but this one talked about trust and telling a secret to prove it. I have one no one knows unless you count Alan and Meghan, but they probably don’t remember it or haven’t thought about it in years.”
“C’mon. Tell me.”
He stood straighter. “Back in high school, I rocked the keyboard in a garage band. The Sour Onions performed at several drunken house parties but fizzled out after graduation.”
Her mouth dropped open. “That’s incredible!” Belle jumped into his arms and knocked him back against the counter. She kissed him hard.
Benji suckled her bottom lip until she bubbled with laughter. “Easy, babe. Don’t hyperventilate. How’s the nausea?”
“Better. Gone, actually. Do you still play?”
“I haven’t touched a keyboard in years.”
“If you rocked it once, you can again with practice. Trust me.”
“I do, completely.” A buzz echoed around them. Benji glanced at his duffel, still on the coffee table. “I better answer that.”
“Nah, ignore it. The bed is calling us. Can’t you hear it?”
“Like a siren at sea.” He groaned as Belle turned and rubbed her backside against his front. Damn, that ass. He squeezed the firm muscle and clasped her waist.
The device kept buzzing. Why now? Couldn’t he get a little action before life intruded? With luck, lightning would strike and zap the phone.
Yeah. Keep on dreaming. “Give me a moment.” He strode across the adjoined rooms and snatched his cell from the coat. The caller ID flashing on the screen—Alan Harding—dropped his stomach to his feet. “It’s Alan. I bet he’s taken a nosedive off the deep end.”
“Oh, no.” Belle’s eyebrows dipped low over her eyes.
Benji hit the answer button. “Alan, hey. You all right?” He wrapped his arm around her as the younger Harding cursed. Damn, this couldn’t be good. “Mason, is that you?”
“Alan’s gone. He’s completely fucking snapped.” Mason’s rough voice rumbled through the line. “I called him about Meghan. Has he called you?”
“Yep. Already got an earful.”
“Shit. I’m at his apartment. His car isn’t in the lot, and he’s not answering his cell. I’m on his landline. Thank God I still have my key, man, or I wouldn’t be able to warn you.”
Benji snorted. The man lived in the Dark Ages without a cell phone. As Belle rubbed his tense back, he squeezed her closer to his side. What would he do without her?
“He’s probably on his way to your place, Ben.” Mason blew air through his teeth.
“I’m not home, but he has a key. Meghan’s there.”
“You left a drug addict alone in your home? Fuck. You want her to rob you?”
“Recovering addict,” he corrected with a growl.
Mason had a point, though. Meghan could stuff anything she wanted into a taxi while he worked or spent time with Belle. Benji rolled his stiff shoulders. “How’s Danny holding up?”
“He’s fine. Jim and Calista babysat him last night—Danny is crushing hard on Cali’s daughter, Lacey—so he doesn’t know about this.”
“I’m still surprised Alan is letting your former parole officer babysit his son.”
Belle smirked and rested her head on Benji’s chest.
How could Belle miss Mason’s part of the conversation? His voice echoed clear through the phone. Did he even have an inside voice?
The ex-con scoffed. “Al and Jim aren’t friends, but they get along okay. Ever since Mia and I babysat both Danny and Lacey—at the same time, no less—he’s talked nonstop about her. She’s his first crush. Alan thinks it’s cute.”
As did Benji. “Romance in the making, eh?”
“Yeah. Anyway, I’m leaving now to catch up with Alan. You need to get home.”
“I’m on my way.” Benji ended the call. His jaw tightened, but he yawned and stretched his mouth wide. “I’m sorry, babe. I gotta go.”
“Right. We better hurry.” Belle rushed into her room and quickly returned, now dressed in a sweater. A scarf encircled her neck. His bag and their shoes overflowed from her arms, and she dropped the items on the coffee table. She smacked her hands together. “Chop-chop. Hopefully, we’ll arrive before Alan and stop him from barging in.”
Whew! She still intended to go with him. After he yanked on a sweater, he pulled her close for a kiss. The shit was about to hit the fan. Would anyone come out unscathed?