Say It Strong (Say You Love Me Book 2) (3 page)

I headed upstairs to Robbie’s guest bedroom where I’d be staying tonight. All four of us would be sleeping at the house. It was tradition the night before a tour, and though I wasn’t fucking hammered as balls as I usually was, I was tired and ready for bed. I opened the door and spotted Corbin in there, half-naked with the pool chick he’d been sucking face with earlier. Actually, I’d been with her before, too, but I fucking forgot her name. “Hey…uh…both of you,” I said. Man, I was out of it. I’d completely forgotten about the threesome Corbin had planned for us tonight.

“Bro! We’ve been waiting for your ass,” Corbin cried, holding out his arms to welcome me. He sprawled out on the bed with Pool Chick lying alongside him, her upper half propped up, as though she’d been kissing his chest before I opened the door.

“Yeah, Liam, bring that hot ass over here.” She beckoned with a glittery silver fingernail.

I distinctly recalled the feel of those sharp nails digging into my ass at some point. Oddly enough, the memory didn’t have me hardening. Didn’t even have my dick twitching with mild interest. “Wow, you know what? I totally forgot about this, uh…meeting, and I’m actually kind of tired. So you guys party without me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Corbin’s eyebrows flew up. “Dude, Bella wore her good-luck bikini just for
us
, for the tour.”

Bella,
that was her name.

“Yeah, Liam.” She reached back and undid her bikini top, freeing the most beautiful set of perfect tits the world’s eyeballs had ever seen. “You sure you’re tired?”

Okay, so I wasn’t dead. A stirring in my pants called to me.

Corbin cocked his head. “Dude, it’s bad luck if you don’t help me. I mean, look at her. Clearly, I need backup.”

I laughed. “You’re man enough to handle her alone, Cor.”

“What? Liam, what the fuck’s gotten into you lately? What happened to our kickoff tradition? Now, watch…something bad will happen, and it’ll be all because you wouldn’t help me suck her tits. Come on, bro. Take one for the team.”

Bella giggled.

Funny.

Four years ago, I was a senior in high school and would’ve given anything for a woman of this caliber to want me, and now here I was, actually considering skipping her. Was this life actually getting old? Still, I couldn’t let Corbin or even Bella see how tired I felt, or word would surely get around that Liam Collier was losing his mojo.

“Fine, I guess I’ll sacrifice myself.” I overacted the martyr thing.

“There you go!” Corbin pumped his fist then resumed making out with Bella.

Pulling off my vest, I tossed it onto a chair and climbed into bed on Bella’s other side, loving the big, comfy pillows piled up behind me, wishing I could sink in and just fall asleep there. But Bella had other plans. She turned to me, ran a hand up my leg, then cupped it around my package and squeezed. Leaning into me, she kissed the side of my face until my lips connected with hers and soaked in her strawberry-flavored scent.

Fucking beautiful woman, no doubt of that.

So why couldn’t I get into it?

Bella pulled away and gave me fantastic blue eyes before turning back to Corbin and undoing his jeans. She pulled them down just far enough, fished around inside his shorts, and pulled out his cock, dropping her head and starting to work on him.

I closed my eyes. Did not need to see my buddy’s bits and pieces, but I could hear the sounds of skin and sex, including the slurping and gagging that she was so good at.
Gah, now I really do remember her.

After a minute of me lying there, listening to Corbin groan, watching her head bob up and down, she turned to me. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. Am I neglecting you?”

“Nah, you’re good.”

I would’ve been fine just watching, but her body twisted, and she threw a leg over my torso, straddling me, leaning forward to press her sweet tits into my face.
Ohh, sweet mercy…
Those amazing nipples grazed my lips, but I couldn’t drink them in. She lowered her face to kiss me, but I turned my cheek, so she kissed my neck and ears instead. She was beautiful, yes, but there was something so intimate about kissing, so entirely personal, that I just couldn’t bring myself to do it tonight for some reason.

Closing my eyes, I felt her breasts leaving a warm trail down my chest as she kissed down my body, pausing at the sensitive skin just underneath the button of my fly. Her hot breath waited there while she fumbled with my zipper. Between my swirling, half-drunken thoughts and a dizzying sensation, I couldn’t think straight, and for a moment I thought—hoped maybe—that she could be someone else.

The cello girl.

I imagined Bella was Abby, tugging with need at my jeans, pulling them down, wanting desperately to envelop me in her mouth. Now
that
would be awesome, experiencing that reserved, shy woman unfold and give herself to me.
No offense, Bella,
but I expected it from you. But Abby?

Warm, slinky hands reached into my shorts and wrapped around my cock, hard and ready at the thought. All I had to do was let her pleasure me, relinquish and just feel, the way I’d done hundreds of times before with a different flavor woman every other night, but what did it all mean? What good was all this sex if the person you were having it with just disappeared and didn’t scratch your back afterward, didn’t care if you suddenly became an average guy with an average income?

My mom didn’t care if my dad couldn’t buy her a new car, keep her in a condo overlooking the ocean, or buy her jewelry every day of the week. Mom loved Dad despite him being an average Joe all these years. Now
that
shit was real. My mom and dad had material things now because of me, so did my brothers, but it had never been a requirement to love one another.

I wanted that same kind of love for me. Maybe not now, not on the first day of a new tour, and not for a while. But eventually—one day. I wasn’t ready to give up the life just yet. Hell no, a life like mine would be brutal on a girlfriend. I would never subject a woman to life on the road and to our endless raunchiness. That was why I’d let go of Vanessa, my high school girlfriend. It was why I’d broken her heart, prompting her to…

Ugh,
I couldn’t think about that right now, or things would deflate. Literally. One of the saddest days of my life.

“Mmm, baby, you’re one of a kind,” Bella cooed.

My eyes popped open to see her holding my cock with both hands, ogling it like it was going to be difficult stuffing it all in her mouth. Instead of turning me on, it highlighted even more that I was just a famously rich piece of meat to her. “You know what? That feels really good what you’re doing…” I pushed her hands away gently. I had no interest in insulting her. “But we have to get up early, and I’m kind of buzzed. I’d hate to not remember this in the morning. I’d much rather you do it once I’m sober so I can really enjoy it.” I gave her my best smile. No pun intended, but I didn’t want to come across as a dick. Girls could be so sensitive, even dangerous ones like her.

Her brow furrowed and she pouted. “You sure?”

“Yeah. You and Corbin have fun.” I sat up, pushing myself back into my shorts and zipping up my jeans. Although this was supposed to be my bed tonight. I guess I’d have to sleep downstairs or, hell, even at home.

I grabbed my vest. My wallet went back in my pocket, and I pulled out my bike keys.

“Dude, what is
up
with you?” Corbin gave me a worried look, as Bella fell over him again, her head bobbing up and down. “Since when do you not want this magic mouth all up in your business?”

“Just staying focused, bro. I’ll see you in the morning.” I left the room and closed the door behind me before he could say anything else, pressing my back up against the wall. I sighed. What the fuck was wrong with me?

I slinked past people sitting on floors and lying on sofas, and past women giving blow jobs to our roadies and crew. When I made it to the front door, there was Helen, my best friend, face all somber, as though someone killed her cat. “Helen…geez. You fucking scared me, coming out of nowhere like that. What’s up, Wednesday Addams?”

“Where you been?” she asked, like she was my
mom
or something. Helen could be so fucking clingy sometimes.

I gave her a once-over. She looked pretty hot tonight in tight jeans, a perfect, fitted tank that hugged her boobs, and lots of necklaces tangled in her cleavage. I’d touched them once. The boobs, not the necklaces. Sophomore year. But I’d been drunk, and we’d both laughed it off. “I was upstairs getting a blow job. Blew my load all over her face. It was fucking awesome. You?” I knew the answer would disgust her, but that should teach her not to ask where I’d been anymore.

“Bullshit.” She called my bluff. “You’re going home. Nothing happened.”

My chest deflated. “How’d you know that?”

Helen scoffed, shook her head. “You think you know a person.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, whenever you have sex, you stay in bed till at least noon the next day with said person. If you’re leaving early, it’s because you’re tired and want to sleep undisturbed.”

“Am I that transparent?” My eyebrows flared.

“To me, you are.” There was the girl I was used to, though there was something in her face tonight that tipped me off.

Something had changed. I just wasn’t sure what it was. Had she met someone? Did he not feel the same way? Was that why she seemed so gloomy? I knew I should be a good friend and ask her. But right then, I just wanted my bed and some sleep. “Okay, well, I’m heading out.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she swirled around the contents of her glass—Jack and Coke, most likely. “Need someone to go with you?” she asked suggestively.

Uh…what?
Sleeping with a warm body would be nice, and Helen did know me better than anyone, but we weren’t bed buddies. Maybe she was just lonely and wanted someone to cuddle with, but if she was that vulnerable, I didn’t want to risk leading her on. I’d never thought of her that way before. She was just Helen, my best friend since middle school—no more, no less.

“Thanks, man,” I said, “but I’m really shot. Don’t want anything tonight but my own company and some z’s.”

“That why you got a blow job?”

I forced a laugh. “I was kidding about that.”

Helen stared at me for a second before her face relaxed. “Ah, I’m good for it. I’ll see you at the buses tomorrow. Can I ride with you this time, or are you going to make me ride with the merch crew again?”

“Uhhhh…” I stammered. Well, she
was
our merch manager. Was this a trick question?

“You know what? Forget I asked. See you tomorrow, Lee.” She punched my arm and dragged away, thumping the wall softly as she disappeared down the hall. My head was spinning with confusion. For a second, I wanted to go after her, but then decided I’d talk to her tomorrow, when I wasn’t so tired.

Outside Robbie’s house, the valet brought my Suzuki GSX-R600 and handed me my helmet. “Thanks.” I slipped a fifty into his hand and straddled the bike.

Before I took off, though, I sat there thinking about the weirdness of the evening— wanting to chat with the cello player, not wanting to partake of Bella’s talents, and Helen acting different. All of a sudden, it hit me. There was something I’d been wanting to do all night. Since I met Abby. Poor girl must think all rock musicians were assholes, the way Tucker behaved. I wanted to send her something to change her mind. To reassure her there was no reason to regret taking the job and going on tour with us.

I hesitated, though. Any gesture I made could be misconstrued, could lead Abby on just as much as I feared cuddling and snoozing with Helen could do to her. But no, that was different. I wasn’t talking about having physical contact with Abby here.

I only wanted to be a good boss. To right a wrong, not marry her.

She’d see that.

Pulling out my phone, I summoned Siri’s help.

 

CHAPTER THREE

Abby

 

Rosemary rosined her bow like she wanted to kill it—hard. She was fierce this morning, ready to practice the second half of
Save Me Tonight
over and over again, until she got it perfect. This was her MO—beating the composition to death until it was emblazoned in her mind. She sliced the bow along her violin’s open G, then D, then A, then E strings, tuned the pegs, then tweaked the fine-tuners. Clouds of dusty rosin floated into the rays of light filtering in through the hotel blinds.

“Something wrong?” I pulled my cello out of its case, eyeing Rosemary carefully.

She rested the violin on her knee, gripping it by the neck. “I can’t believe he talked to you as long as he did.”

She didn’t have to clarify who she was talking about. There’d been only one man who’d talked to me recently who mattered. Liam Collier. The same man I’d been thinking
and
dreaming about since we’d met.

Thinking how…sweet he’d been.

And dreaming about how sexy he was. How sexy he made me
feel
.

Last night, remembering what Tucker had said about me resembling the happy-endings massage girl, I’d tossed and turned long after Rosemary had fallen asleep, unable to get rid of the image of me and Liam together, and me, well…making him happy. It had been far too easy to conjure a wordless fantasy of him on a massage table, big and brawny and buck naked except for a cute little towel slung over his muscular butt.

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