Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
ICE
S omeone was watching him. It wasn’t unusual, since even the beard he’d been growing for the past few months wasn’t always enough to hide his identity and there were more than a few Deviant Whispers fans in the club.
But this felt… different, somehow. Heavier. And no matter how many times he glanced around the club, he couldn’t pinpoint where the feeling was coming from.
“You’re jumpy this evening.”
Across the table, Beckett Stone lifted a glass of whiskey to his curved lips. Handsome in a boy-next-door kind of way with a thick flop of perfectly styled dark hair that matched his equally dark eyes, Beckett was the first person Ice had really clicked with when he’d come to South Carolina, and part of the reason he’d stayed so much longer than he’d actually meant to. His plan when he’d left California had been to bounce around a bit, checking out different clubs across the country in the hopes he’d find someone to take his mind off Silver.
So far, he was batting zero.
Arizona, Seattle, Houston. He’d tried clubs from one coast to another, played with submissives of all genders. But nothing had helped. No matter who he had on their knees in front of him, all he could think about was the way Silver had looked during Roulette, kneeling before him in those mouth-watering black boots, the kaleidoscope of colors in her hair dancing beneath the lights.
And despite having spent several months in South Carolina, he hadn’t even played with anyone here yet. Shane, Club BDE’s resident brat, had caught his eye for a while, but they’d never made it past the flirting stage before Shane had moved away for some new job he’d been surprisingly tight-lipped about.
But while he hadn’t found anyone he wanted to top here, he’d found something even more unexpected. Friends, like Beckett and the club’s owner, Braden Elliott, who had given him a sense of belonging he hadn’t felt outside of his own band in a very long time.
Even inside his own band, he’d come to realize the longer he’d stayed away from California. That thought was a bit too uncomfortable, though, so he purposefully didn’t dwell on it very long whenever it popped up.
“I’m feeling jumpy,” he answered with a frown that had Beckett’s brows raising toward his hairline. “Can’t shake the feeling someone is watching me.”
“Isn’t someone always watching you? I swear you’ve got fangirls hiding in the shadows every time we go somewhere.” Clearly amused by his friend’s discomfort, Beckett made a show of looking around.
“Don’t act like you don’t love the attention.” Despite being one of the strictest, most hardass Doms Ice had ever known, Beckett had a tendency to preen like a peacock whenever they encountered Ice’s ‘fangirls’ which amused both Ice and Braden to no end. “And this feels different.”
That got Beckett’s attention. His expression sobered as his focus returned to Ice. “Different how?”
“I dunno. Just different.” Giving himself a mental shake, Ice sipped at his whiskey. “Probably nothing. Are you playing tonight?”
“Haven’t decided yet.” Picking up the drink he’d been nursing for a solid half hour, Beckett gave the amber liquid a swirl, his brows drawing together in a thoughtful frown. “I’m… in a mood.”
Which meant he was feeling even more sadistic than usual, and god help whichever poor subbie ended up at his mercy if he did decide to play. Even though he hadn’t yet indulged himself in what Club BDE had to offer, Ice had gotten plenty of enjoyment out of watching Beckett Stone in action. “Braden could probably find you someone to help with your mood .”
“Invoking my name already?” As if conjured by magic, Braden Elliott stepped up to the table, a wide grin stretching across his face. Though he was a full decade older than both Ice and Beckett, his good looks had remained intact, even with the dusting of gray that had recently shown up at his temples. No doubt thanks to his babygirl, Lottie, who required more wrangling than most submissives. “It’s not even nine in the evening yet, gentlemen.”
“Beckett’s in a mood,” Ice said with a grin of his own. “Thought you might be able to help.”
Braden’s smile deepened. “As it happens, Cordelia is also in a bit of a ‘mood’. From what I can gather, Ivy has been something of a brat this week and Delia would be more than happy to let someone have a go at her babygirl. Should I send them your way?”
Interest lit Beckett’s dark eyes. “I’ll think about it. Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Of course. In the meantime, I actually came by to check that you’re both still on board to help with the first official Club BDE auction tomorrow night.”
Ever since Braden had shut down the illicit online auction being held under his club’s banner, several of the members had been hounding him to reinstate the practice. He’d finally caved, but under the condition that all auctions would be held at the club and half the proceeds would go to charity. His team of lawyers had walked a delicate line ensuring the entire event would be one-hundred-percent legal, and it had taken nearly a month for Braden to be comfortable with the wording of the contracts and such, but the club was buzzing with anticipation over the returning auction.
“We’ll be there,” Becket said, raising his glass in a toast.
“With bells on,” Ice added with a chuckle.
“Bells, huh?” Eyes sparkling with laughter, Beckett cocked an eyebrow. “Looking to be somebody’s pretty cow tomorrow, Turner?”
“Fuck off, Beckett.”
Laughing loudly now, Beckett slid from the booth and clapped a hand on Ice’s shoulder. “Sorry friend, you’re not my type. I’m off to find Delia and see what she had in mind for her babygirl. I’ll be back… or not.”
Ice rolled his eyes as his friend sauntered off, then looked up at Braden, who was watching him with an intensity that had his spine crawling. Resisting the urge to physically shake off the feeling, he raised an eyebrow. “Something bothering you?”
“You never play.” It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement of fact, and yet it still gave Ice the distinct impression he was being interrogated.
“Is that against the rules?” he asked, lifting his whiskey to his suddenly dry lips.
“No. But it does make me wonder…”
“Wonder what?”
“Are you still in love with her?”
The question was like a physical blow, knocking the air clean from his lungs. He’d spilled his guts to both Beckett and Braden about Silver one night after several rounds of whiskey, but like the good friends they were, they’d never brought her up again. Having her thrown in his face so out of the blue left him more shaken than he cared to admit. “That’s none of your business.”
“Perhaps not,” Braden said with a careless shrug. “But I hope you have an answer ready.”
Without bothering to explain what that cryptic message was supposed to mean, Braden turned and headed for the stairs that would take him down into the pit where half a dozen scenes were playing out, even on a Thursday night.
Closing his eyes, Elias dragged in a breath and dropped his head back against the cushioned headrest behind him. The answer to Braden’s question was the same as it had been since high school: Yes, he was still head over fucking heels in love with Amanda Sterling.
Someone brushed past him and a moment later he sensed them settling onto the seat across from him. “Strike out already?” he asked with a smirk, not bothering to open his eyes.
“I wasn’t aware I was at bat.”
That voice. Rich and husky, it wrapped around his senses, awakening the parts of him that had seemingly gone dormant during his ‘sabbatical’. Eyes snapping open, he jerked his head up to stare across the table, not at his new friend, but at the woman who’d shattered his heart.
After so long without seeing her in person, he’d nearly convinced himself that she wasn’t as beautiful as he remembered. That his mind had constructed a version of her where the brown of her eyes glowed brighter than they did in real life, where her hair didn’t have a life of its own with all those curls and the colors she added to them on a regular basis. Where her pale skin didn’t fucking shimmer under the lights of the club and her mouth didn’t beg to be kissed with that full bottom lip and that perfect little cupid’s bow.
But seeing her now, he was realizing his memories hadn’t done her justice. In person, she was a vision, and he nearly rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.
“What are you doing here?”
The words came out sharper than he’d intended, and Silver cocked an eyebrow in response.
“I came to find you.”
He’d imagined those exact words coming from her lips so many times since he’d left California. Dreamed of the day she might show up to tell him she’d followed him all the way across the country because she couldn’t bear to live without him.
In those dreams, he’d swept her up in his arms, and they’d vowed to find a way to be together, no matter what. He had a feeling that when it came to their future, it was reality that would fall far short. “Well, you found me. Guess you can go home now.”
“No.” Determination flashed in her eyes as she jerked her chin up. “Not without you.”
“I’m on sabbatical.”
“I know. Simon told me.”
Hurt rippled beneath the words, and not for the first time since he’d left California, guilt at how he’d left things stabbed at his chest.
“But it’s time to come home.”
“I’ll come home when I’m ready.” He was aware he sounded like a toddler refusing to leave the playground, but he wasn’t ready to go back just yet. Not only because he was faced with the reality that his sabbatical had done absolutely nothing in terms of helping him get over her, but because once he returned to California, he’d have to tell Ace the truth. He’d have to look his best friend in the eye and tell him that not only had he been in love with Ace’s girlfriend for years, but that he knew what she tasted like, what she sounded like when she came, what her mouth felt like on his cock.
Yeah. California could wait a little fucking longer.
Temper flashed in her eyes. “You can’t just hide away in the backwoods of South Carolina forever, Ice. The band needs you.”
“The band.” It took more effort than he would have liked to keep the bitterness out of his voice. She’d made her position on him, on them, crystal clear that night at Roulette. But he realized now with painful clarity that he’d been holding out hope that she’d come to tell him that she needed him. That she wanted him to come home. For her. Not for the fucking band. “Right.”
“Why do you sound so pissed about it?”
“I’m not.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug as though there weren’t a million knives currently stabbing him in the chest with every word. “The band has to come first. You made that clear after Roulette.”
A frown tugged at the corners of her lips. “Since when has the band not come first?”
“I don’t even remember anymore.” The years had blurred together to the point he could barely remember a time when the band wasn’t at the forefront of their every waking thought, their every decision.
Was it any wonder he was exhausted?
“So… you’ll come home?”
“When I’m ready.” Now that he’d had some time to get over the shock of seeing her, his mind was working to figure out what the hell she was actually doing here. “Why are you so interested in getting me back to California, anyway?”
Now it was hunger in her eyes, a hunger he recognized all too well. And it had nothing to do with food or sex. “We’re doing the goddamn thing, Ice.”
It took a moment for his brain to catch up with her. “Which thing?”
“ The thing, Ice. The thing we’ve been dreaming of since we signed our first contract.”
“Holy shit. Holy shit . We got an invite to Play Me Like That ?”
“Yes!” Excitement poured off her in waves, and if his heart beat a bit faster it was just the thrill of finally being invited to the rock event of the goddamn year. Nothing to do with the woman sitting across from him.
Certainly nothing to do with the way her breasts swelled with each breath, testing the limits of the dress clinging to her like a second skin.
“They want us for next year?” he asked, still not quite ready to believe what he was hearing.
“Yup. Simon wants us to start working on set lists and shit, and he wants us to have at least two new singles ready to go. One to release a couple months before the festival to really get interest up, and one to debut at the festival.”
Simon was a fucking genius. Ice wasn’t sure anyone else could keep their shit in order the way he did. And when it came to promotion, nobody beat Simon Howard. “When do we start?”
“Now.” Some of the excitement faded from her expression as she sent a hard look his way. “Simon wanted us to jump in right away, but nobody knew how to find you.”
The accusation in her tone stung. Especially since she was the whole fucking reason he’d taken off on his ‘sabbatical’ in the first place. “Simon knows how to reach me.” On the phone Ice had bought on his way out of California, the number for which he’d given to Simon and only Simon with strict instructions not to share it with anyone else, even the rest of the band.
Silver’s eyes narrowed. “Simon said he called and you asked him if anyone was dead or dying, and when he said ‘No’ you hung up on him and you’ve been ignoring his calls ever since.”
Fuck. He had done that. “He should have texted me.”
“You know how Simon is.”
He did know how Simon was, and ‘paranoid’ didn’t even begin to cover it. Simon was overly cautious about what he put in text messages, on the off chance someone hacked ‘the cloud’ and unearthed some important information. “Is that why they sent you to find me? Because Simon didn’t want to send a goddamn text?”
“Yes. And I promise I’m not any happier about it than you are.”
That much was clear from the look on her face to the annoyance ringing in her tone. “All right. I’ll head home soon, but I can’t leave just yet.”
“Why the hell not? This is Play Me Like That we’re talking about, Ice.”
“Yeah, I get that. But I made some people here promises, and I’m a man of my word, Amanda.”
“Jesus Christ.” Throwing her hands in the air, she sent him a look that could only be described as exasperated. “What promises could you have made that could possibly be more important than our band?”
“I don’t appreciate you putting words in my mouth, girl.”
He’d deliberately used the generic term he used with all his submissives, because he knew she’d hated it so much during their scenes at Roulette. Pissing Amanda Sterling off was one of the few pleasures he still had in life, and he damn well wasn’t giving it up just because she’d said they couldn’t be together.
As he’d expected, her nose crinkled at the term. “Don’t call me that. We’re not in a scene.”
“Don’t push me, then. Saturday is the earliest I can leave. I’ll see you back in California.”
“Fine. At least tell me what’s so goddamn important.”
He was tempted to tell her to fuck off, but that would be a true asshole move. It was one thing to take some time to himself to nurse a broken heart. It was another thing entirely to treat her like shit because she’d been the one to break it. Above all else, she was still one of his best friends, and he intended to keep it that way.
Even if it hurt like a bitch to do so.
“The club is having an auction. Like a sexual fantasy type deal. I told Braden I’d help monitor the event, make sure things run smoothly.”
“I thought the Elliott brothers shut down that whole auction thing.”
So she’d done her homework before crashing his club. Good girl. “They did. But the members apparently really liked the idea, so Braden found a way to make it work legally. The first real auction is tomorrow night.
Her dark eyes lit with interest. “That could be fun to watch. Maybe I’ll stick around.”
Fuck. The last place he wanted her was here, in his club, where he’d have to watch all the other Daddies of Club BDE drool over her lush curves. But telling Silver “No” was the quickest way to ensure she would do exactly what he didn’t want her to do, so he simply shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.”
They sat for a moment, staring at each other from across the table, until she finally sighed. “I’ve missed you, Ice. I’m sorry things are weird between us now.”
“No reason for them to be.” He forced himself to shrug again, another show of nonchalance he didn’t remotely feel. “You were right. Ace would lose his fucking mind if we got together, and nobody needs all that drama.”
Her smile was tight and didn’t reach her eyes. “Right. Exactly.”
Silence stretched between them, heavy and awkward. Needing to escape it, he downed the rest of his whiskey and slid from the booth. “Well. Enjoy your night. I’m headed down to the pit.”
“Are you going to play? Sorry.” Closing her eyes, she shook her head, her curls flying around her heart-shaped face. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.” Because the answer will only hurt us both. “See you later, Sil.”
“Yeah. Later.”
Turning on his heel, he forced himself to walk toward the stairs, away from the woman he loved, yet again.
It didn’t suck any less the second time around.