Dirty Pleasures

Holly sucks in a deep breath and continues in a shakier tone. “And then I won’t see her again until she runs out of the cash she’ll steal from me and anyone else who isn’t guarding their wallet. That’s what happened when she tracked me down at the very beginning of the tour.” Her voice breaks on the last word.

I cross the small living area of the bus, wrap her in my arms, and lift her into my lap as a few tears slip over her lids. I’m so shocked by the change from spitfire to hurt little girl that I have no idea how else to comfort her.

She leans against my shoulder for a beat before pulling back and climbing off my lap. She swipes at her eyes, smearing her mascara, and begins to pace.

“Damn it. I won’t cry over her. I’ve cried over her too many times. She doesn’t deserve any more of my tears. None.”

“I agree. No one deserves your tears.” Not even me, I add silently.

“And then there’s you,” she says.

“Me?” I ask.

Let’s pause for one second and acknowledge the fact that this is a stupid fucking question for a guy to ask a woman at this particular juncture, but it’s out of my mouth before I can call it back.

“Seriously? You stood me up. Again. And my mama, the gold digger, is coming to visit, and I’ll have her yapping in my ear about how I’ll never hold on to you unless I do something magical, like bleach my asshole or vajazzle my cooch, and even then, I’m probably not woman enough to keep a man like you.”

Fuck. Holly’s mother really did a number on her, and that woman will not find herself welcome here to continue the job. There’s no way in hell I’ll let her near Holly. I don’t give a fuck who she is.

“I didn’t expect it to take so long.”

She crosses her arms, and I’ve done enough negotiating to know that her body language says she’s closed off to any kind of reasonable interaction.

“What were you doing anyway?” she demands. When I open my mouth to respond, she holds up a hand, and I pause. “Never mind, you don’t need to tell me. It’s not like this is that kind of marriage anyway.”

The acid in her tone puts my back up. I know she’s pissed and emotional, but her taking swipes at what we’re starting to build here pisses me off.

“And exactly what kind of marriage is this, Holly?” The question is a loaded one.

“We both know it’s not going to last. I’m a passing fancy for you. And in case you’re wondering, I’m not bleaching my asshole to keep you on the hook.”

Her offbeat and slightly twisted sense of humor does the impossible; my pissed-off mood evaporates. I rise from the chair and move toward her, my predatory instincts taking over.

Pinning her to the fridge, I growl, “Not even if I ask nicely and promise to fuck that tight little asshole until you’ve come so many times your pleasure receptors are blown?”

She lifts her gaze to mine and mumbles, “I knew I shouldn’t have said that.”

I smooth the hair away from her face and lower my lips to her ear. “Don’t ever be afraid to say anything to me.”

When Holly doesn’t reply, I pull away and stare down at her. “Holly. Look at me.” I wait until she complies. “If you really believe what you said about this not lasting, then we have a serious problem.”

Her teeth scrape her bottom lip, and she hesitates before asking, “Why?”

I infuse my words with steel, because I want there to be no confusion about the gravity of what I’m saying. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go.”

Her big brown eyes blink twice, and her mouth falls open. The spitfire who faded away for brief moments flares to life again.

“Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my I’ll be waiting in a hotel suite with a prenup and an engagement ring husband?”

I cup her face with both hands, needing the contact. “Things change, Holly. And everything has changed for me because of you. If you haven’t figured that out yet, then I’ll just have to show you.”

“I don’t get you,” she whispers.

I lower my forehead to hers and breathe her in. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’ve already got me.”

She turns her head, breaking our contact. I drop my hands to my sides, and a shred of doubt filters into me, bringing a completely foreign feeling with it—uncertainty.

I consider crushing my lips to hers until her thoughts are filled with nothing and no one but me, but I also understand the value of backing off and letting her settle so I can return to claim victory another day. With the news of her mom’s arrest and upcoming arrival, not to mention the unrelenting tour schedule, I suspect Holly is teetering on the edge of her breaking point right now, and the last thing I want to do is push her over.

This isn’t about me. This is about her.

Deciding to change gears, I step away and nod toward the bus door.

“Want to meet your new security detail?” I ask.

“Security detail?”

“That’s where I was. Doing personal interviews and reviewing background checks. I needed to make sure that I felt comfortable with them before I could bring them around you. If you have any issues with either of the guys, let me know, and we can replace them. But having said that, I think they’re both solid choices.” I meet her eyes. “I’m willing to trust them with your safety, and believe me when I say that isn’t something I do lightly. At all.”

Her posture relaxes for a fraction of a second, but tenses once more when she asks, “You think they can keep Mama away from me too?”