Chapter 29
Paul “Rock Giant” Reed
Rock Giant was so done with being circumspect.
If spending the afternoon with her had convinced him of anything, it was that it was time to stop farting about and at least attempt some sort of forward momentum.
Enough with pretending they were only going to be friends, but more particularly, to hell with the idea of him standing in the wings and watching her live unhappily ever after with a man who didn’t appreciate or deserve her.
Maybe Jodi didn’t realise it, but crews talked.
And he talked to the crew. Why the fuck wouldn’t he?
They kept the show on the road, and they had way more insight into what was going on at any particular moment than the bands usually did, especially a band as fresh as the Ghost Boys.
They were carefully separated from reality by a management filter.
But the point was, Curtis Nash’s voyeuristic tendencies had garnered notice beyond the immediate circle of the Ghost Boys, to the crew, to the Black Halo crew, to him, and more than likely to the growing number of fans turning out to see them all perform with offers of performances of their own ready on their tongues. He knew how the world worked.
“Paul, I’m sorry. I am, but I shouldn’t have to say this. I’m engaged. We can’t—”
“And how’s that working out for you?”
She gaped at him. “You… You… Don’t. You’ve no right to judge.”
“I’m not judging, I’m asking a question.
You tell me what the answer is.” He didn’t want her getting all defensive and staging a retreat, but he also wanted her to take stock and realise that maybe the world wasn’t so rosy, and she had other options.
They had other options. She didn’t have to settle for shithead.
“I don’t have to justify myself, not to you, not to anyone.”
Too late, it seemed. Then again, it was easier to take offence than to take stock.
“I’m not saying you do. I just…” He spread his hand wide, palms raised as if he were ready to backpedal, but he wasn’t.
Couldn’t. All this stuff was bubbling away in his brain, and he needed to say it to someone.
To her. There wasn’t any point in saying it to anyone else.
“Here’s what I see. He’s promised to marry you but he’s no fucking interest in you other than as a prize he won.
You could have ended up with any one of those guys.
Tell me that’s not the case. Tell me I’m wrong.
I’ve seen you with them. You’ve more chemistry with Lee, with Balin, even Jez than you do with him.
” He’d talked to them, too. “If I didn’t know any of you at all, he’d be the last one I thought you were with. ”
“Will you stop?”
Not until he was done. He needed to make this point. Had to.
“If you marry him, he’ll treat you like a doormat for the rest of your life. That’s when he remembers you exist. Whereas I’m ready to worship you until the heat death of the universe. I’m willing to give you everything I have, and everything you need.”
“Please… Please… don’t do that. Don’t say that. Paul…”
“I love you.”
She sucked in a sharp breath. “You don’t know me.”
Not true.
He said it again.
He was pushing her, he knew that. Could see from the way she was twitching and reaching out for whatever was to hand that he was toppling all her defensive shields. He couldn’t stop though, couldn’t back down.
“I can’t deal… I can’t do this.” Her hands were in her hair, and then in her pockets. “What was so bad about us being friends? I’ve had a lovely day. We had a lovely day…” Now she was fingering the room phone… the TV remote…
“And we can keep on having lovely day-days. We can be friends, the best of friends, and be way more than that too. This isn’t lust talking.
I want you. I…want…you, Jodi. Do you have an idea how much it hurts seeing you with him, and watching how he treats you?
He’s a git. You don’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve you. ”
“And you do?”
He shook his head. That wasn’t it at all. This wasn’t about dishing out what was owed, it was about seeing the truth and acknowledging the connection that existed between them. A connection that would continue to exist between them forevermore no matter what happened tonight or any other night.
“Jodi, please.”
“You always call me Castle.” Her gaze hit him square in the face—frightened, flustered, needy.
“Fine. Castle, please.” He crooked a finger.
“I can’t.” She shook her head. Crumpled the blank postcard she picked up in her fist.
“I’m not going to do anything bar give you the hug you obviously need.” Noble intentions that would be quickly debunked if she could see inside his head. Maybe his thoughts were painted across his face, for she gave her head another shake.
“I don’t think it’ll play out well.”
Because if she was in his arms, he’d be hard pressed to fight the voices telling him to do more than embrace her.
“How so?”
Her gaze flicked downwards, then back up to his face. “You’re still…”
“Excited by your presence.” Yeah. Yeah, he was. “Has a mind of its own. Doesn’t seem to want to go down.” Hardly a fucking surprise. He was struggling not to touch it… Not to shift the elastic waistband a little, so it wasn’t quite so containing.
“I love him.”
“Yeah.”
“I said yes to him.”
“I know.”
“It might not be perfect, but... Why does this have to be so difficult?”
“Maybe ask yourself why it’s difficult.”
She gave a suppressed full-body shake. It was more of a tremor, he supposed, given how rigidly she was holding everything in.
“Come here, Castle.”
Again, she shook her head but simultaneously took a single step forward.
“Nothing’s going to happen,” he promised. Nothing that she didn’t want. But the misery twisting in his guts was evidently affecting her too. It was there in the furrow between her brows, in the cinched turn of her mouth, and the tight points of her nipples drilling against her top.
“I’m afraid I might accidentally sit on it.”
The sudden bit of levity made him snort, until it dawned on him that might not have been her intention, and that those words had slipped out without permission.
The blush that bloomed in her cheeks confirmed it.
The way it then flooded the tops of her breast had him mesmerised.
How far down did it go? All the way to the tips of her tits? Lower?
“Accidentally? You might accidentally sit on my cock? I don’t think that’s ever happened before… accidentally.”
“I’m accident prone.”
He nodded. “That so? Castle, maybe you’d like to put my wallet down.”
“Wallet? I haven’t got your—” There it was in her hands. “Sorry.”
“Unless you want to take the condom that’s in there out and come here with it. In case you accidentally sit on my cock.”
Evidently, the gloves were off. The muzzle loosened.
She dropped the wallet like it was a grenade, or rather like the condom would magically tear free of the foil and unfurl over his joystick ready for her to slide her gloriously wet, plump pussy down over the top of it.
He got up and closed the gap between them, scooping the wallet up en route, saving her the effort of picking it up and putting it back down a dozen times or so.
The more nervous or riled she got, the stickier her fingers became.
She had his sunglasses in her hands now instead. He took them off her, too.
Her eyes widened. The blue of them brimful of fear, while abject longing teased her mouth into an adorable pout.
Damn, he wanted to kiss her. He really wanted to kiss her.
To relieve the tension crackling between them.
Just kiss her and push all the moralistic shit about this maybe being cheating to one side.
It was only that if you looked at this from one particular viewpoint.
A viewpoint he didn’t share. She was his.
He was hers. As the universe had witnessed it.
Honestly, Curtis Nash was history, he just hadn’t got the message yet.
“Breathe, Castle. It’s okay. There’s no scenario here where I do anything that you don’t want, and explicitly say you want.”
“Then why…”
He’d taken a couple of condoms out of the wallet.
“…torturing me.”
It was a toss-up over who was torturing who here.
“Stop looking at me like that.” Her voice was small and croaky, gave the impression of vulnerability.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re going to eat me.”
Their eyes met. Hers so blue. Afraid. Eager. They stayed locked into that stare. Each breath that wasn’t made right into each other’s mouths, abject agony.
“But, Castle,” he whispered. “I would like to eat you. I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I know I shouldn’t say it, but it’s the truth. I want to lick every inch of you. Taste you. Worship you.”
“Paul. Stop. Stop... We can’t…”
They were inches apart.
“Even if we want to. I’m not going to cheat and make it worse. I’ve already screwed everything up so badly.”
“Shh. You haven’t screwed up anything.” He touched her cheek, and she leaned into the touch with such desperation and torture lining her face.
“I don’t know what to do. I love him. I do.”
She made a sob, and he understood it completely.
Funny how one tiny sound could convey so much nuance that it told him the agony gnawing on her soul was the twin of his own.
Because, it was wrong, so wrong that they had to endure this.
Wrong that he couldn’t lean in, press his mouth to hers, breathe life into them both.
Carry her to the bed, embed himself in the soft plumped folds of her opening.
Get lost together, find bliss twined as they were fated to be.
“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” He brushed her hair back from her face.
“It hurts.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m so confused.”
The glitter of tears clung to her eyelashes. He bent his head to kiss them away.