The Reckoning Read online

  “That’s a new position?”

  “Other bands have Equipment Managers for it, we never needed it before. We have a great stage crew, but we agreed to try it out on this tour. She’s working out well. She’s the daughter of a roadie who worked for Metallica for years, so she knows her way around a backstage.”

  “Interesting.” I eye her, but I feel a heat starting to burn me on the inside.

  “How about that drink now?”

  “Sounds good.”

  The bourbon and cola touches my lips just as I see the band coming toward us. Dalton is leading, Dex next, Kaz and Derrick after. I think this is Dalton and Dex’s version of hazing the new kids. Or Kaz and Derrick just know to give them the respect they deserve. Either way, it’s amusing to watch.

  When Dalton passes me, he grits his teeth and says, “You’re getting security.”

  I’m left standing there with my drink to my lips as the guys pass by one-by-one and follow him inside the dressing room. To avoid a heated discussion, I’m thinking I might stay out here, maybe find the women’s restroom and touch up my lipstick when Dalton comes out and commands, “Come in here.”

  Releasing a hard breath, I turn and walk inside. The door is shut behind me, making me feel like I’m walking into the principal’s office. I stand near the door and take a long gulp from my glass. Dalton watches me, seemingly fascinated by my every move. He cocks an eyebrow up and asks, “What happened down there?”

  Shrugging, I reply, “I’m not sure. Just some crazy woman.”

  Everybody’s watching me as if I’m supposed to be doing something other than what I’m doing. I shift uncomfortably. Dalton sits down on the recliner and says, “I know you like your freedom, but this life comes with a price.” The guys lose interest and scatter around the room with their phones in hand as Dalton continues, “I can’t risk your safety. So you can watch the show from backstage or take two guards with you back to the floor.”

  “Maybe the insane lady who says that you’re hers forever should be escorted out. I’m not worried about me—”

  “I am!” The leather takes a pounding from his fist. “Some people take their obsessions too far. I’m not willing to take the chance.”

  His concern for me is heartfelt, but I worry about him just as much. “Then you need security too.”

  “I have four guys. I’ll be fine. And don’t turn this around on me. If you’re going out there, you’re going with bodyguards.”

  “Security makes me feel self-conscious.” I try a softer angle on him. “I’m not arguing with you about tonight, Babe. I just want us to make the right decisions for the right reason. I’m not having guards back home if that’s what you’re getting at.”

  He drinks from a bottle of water. Eyeing me, I can see him trying to figure a way into my head, my thoughts, analyzing me to maneuver his next play. I look away. Reaching for me, he grabs my hand, his tone calmer. “We’re not arguing. I just can’t be worrying about your safety when I’m out there.”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. It was being handled, so we can let this go.”

  “You were being crushed by the crowd. I’ve seen it happen and you just want me to let it go.” Frustrated, he runs his fingers through his hair. “This is not the battle to fight, Holliday. It’s in your best interest to have protection.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you or affect your performance.” I feel the fight drain from my shoulders. “It’s fine. You win.”

  A small smile creases his cheeks. “It’s not about winning.” He loves to win. Who doesn’t? Standing up, he kisses me. His eyes flicker with animation when he asks, “How’d you like being on stage?”

  Damn him and his sexiness. I smile. “It was incredible.”

  “Is it bad that I liked telling the whole fucking world you’re mine?”

  Raising my eyebrows, I say, “Apparently it’s already on YouTube.”

  “I don’t care… I did that for us. It’s what I’ve wanted to do forever and it felt good.”

  “We’ve never hidden our relationship. We just didn’t talk to the press about it. But for some reason, tonight, it felt so freeing, like the secret was out. Now the crazies know we’re together and they’ve got no hope.” I stroke some of his hair back. “But I’m not sure I want to go in front of that many people again. It was exhilarating and equally terrifying.”

  He breaks out laughing. “Okay, I won’t torture you now… but no promises for later.”

  With that settled I kiss his chest and take his arm. When we walk out of the dressing room, I see Ashley lingering around nearby, watching us. Casually, I ask, “Do you know Ashley?”

  “Who?” Dalton responds.

  Happy, I kiss his cheek. “Never mind.” I take another sip of my cocktail, then say, “I want to see you perform, so get the bodyguards.”

  He eyes me with that winning grin that made him famous as we all walk out. Dalton says to Tommy, “Get her detail—two guys.” Tommy nods. Dalton kisses me quickly. “I’ll see you after.”

  “Play my favorite song.”

  He walks backwards, keeping his eyes on me and smiling. “I’ll play it just for you.”

  I hear Tommy calling some guys and he points to me. When they come over, I say, “Sorry you’re stuck with me.”

  A light blond, burly man says, “It gets dangerous out there. I would do the same for my wife in this kind of situation.”

  Together with the bodyguards, I watch the rest of the concert. The band is incredible, like Tommy said earlier, better than ever. And when Dalton plays the song that he wrote for me, the one he started writing on our first trip to Texas together, he finds me in the audience and melts my heart all over again.

  “Every breath you take makes my heart beat. I am, only because of you.” ~ Johnny Outlaw

  Dalton whispers, “One night. That’s all I get?”

  “I have to leave in the morning.”

  “Let’s not waste time then. I want to spend every minute with you in bed.”

  I nod, his sweetness making me smile. We enter the two-story suite. Just inside, he drops his keys and wallet on the table, and we head for the stairs. “I was hoping for the bathroom.”

  The playfulness is heard in his voice. “You love to watch.”

  “Don’t make it sound like I’m the only one,” I say, laughing. “You love to watch, too.”

  “Oh I like to watch. I’m just wondering when you’re going to let me install mirrors above our bed.”

  “Never. Too obvious.”

  “Too obvious for whom?” he asks.

  “I may like to watch, but I don’t want to sleep on the set of a porno.”

  I laugh right when we reach the top of the stairs, but he doesn’t. He pulls me to the side, pressing me against the wall. His lips are on my neck, his talented hands squeezing my breasts. “I want you,” he murmurs. We’ve been married a year and a half and he’s been touring on and off the last four months. His mouth feels so good on me. He adds, “This is our last chance to make the most of our time together and I intend to… several times.”

  With my head tilted back, I don’t bother whispering, “You have me. I’m yours all night. However you want me.”

  His hands slide under my shirt as he presses his hips against me. Dalton is passionate about everything he does, but he’s especially passionate for me. I feel the same, so I take his hands in mine. When he opens his eyes, I whisper, “Come with me.” Pulling him toward the bedroom, I walk backward, keeping my eyes on him.

  When we enter the room, love is replaced with a lust that’s seen in his eyes—deep emerald with flecks of danger in them.

  I stop in front of the bathroom door and discard my shirt. “Eyes down here,” I say, making sure he’s watching as I strip for him. I slowly turn around, sliding my jeans down over my hips. Peeking over my shoulder, I challenge with eye contact. “What are you waiting for? Get naked for me.”

  His thumb runs over his bottom lip and then licks
it. “So damn demanding.”

  “You love it.”

  “I might. I might also need to punish you for it.”

  My eyebrows go up. “Is it still a punishment if I enjoy it?” I bend all the way down and step out of my jeans. Curving my back up, I stand and unfasten my bra while he works on his belt. “Leave the wristband on.”

  “Get your ass in there, woman.”

  Letting my bra fall from my finger, I move quickly into the bathroom and lean against the counter.

  When he enters, he’s only wearing black boxer briefs. The muscles of his stomach are ripped, his biceps defined without effort, and his legs built by the perfect mix of strength and agility. His eyes narrow as he skims over my body. Through his gaze, he stakes claim before he even touches me. “No underwear, Mrs. Dalton?”

  “I wanted to be ready for you. Don’t leave me waiting.”

  His tongue drags over his lower lip, his hunger for me evident by the large bulge in his briefs. “I’m appreciating the view.”

  I slip backwards onto the cold marble counter and lean back against the mirrored glass. “I want you to appreciate it up close and personal… with your mouth.”

  “Fuck me,” he says, his voice slipping between desire and disbelief, a reminder of what we have together hitting us both. He says, “I fucking love your dirty mouth, Holliday.”

  “You love my dirty mouth or you love to fuck my dirty mouth?”

  “Both.”

  “Then come closer.”

  He drops his drawers and comes right up to me. “Your choice—fuck me or fuck my mouth first?

  “I want to fuck your dirty mouth, but I want to fuck you more. Get off the counter and turn around.”

  I continue to stare into his eyes for a few more seconds before moving quickly into place. His phone is set down on the counter next to me. “Pick a song.”

  Sliding the phone in front of me, I start scrolling his playlists wanting a new soundtrack. I find the song quickly—“Stay” by Thirty Seconds to Mars.

  His hands warm my backside as he presses his erection against me. Leaning forward, he takes the phone back just as the song begins to play. “I’m not gonna listen to fucking Jared Leto when I’m fucking you.” Turning to the side, I see him scrolling on the screen. The song begins and I smile, making sure to look down so he doesn’t see me laughing at him. The Resistance’s remake of the song starts playing. They were asked to perform it for an awards show, so it’s the live version and so hauntingly sexy.

  Looking into the mirror, I wait for his eyes to reflect mine. When they do, I say, “For the record, I don’t fantasize about anyone but you, Dalton.”

  The feel of him ignites my body, flames beginning to flick on the inside. I wiggle, unable to wait any longer. Kisses are placed on my shoulders, and he whispers, “Be patient, Baby.”

  “I want you.”

  “I want you too.”

  My heart begins racing, a pressure poised at my entrance. His eyes stay on mine until he thrusts forward, inside me, causing me to drop my head and hold on tight. Our connection is intense and my mouth drops open as he moves even deeper—solid and steady, filling me and reminding my body who it belongs to.

  My hands are flat and I look up, wanting to watch as he takes me, owns me, conquering me entirely. Uncontrolled thoughts escape into words. “I love being married to a rock star!”

  Dalton stops moving and a laugh breaks free. The right side of his mouth slides up and I realize what I just said. But right when I gain the nerve to look up, he thrusts again. Flat palms anchor me while I wish I could dig my nails into the bed to hold on. His hands cover the tops of mine to ease the power of his body’s thrusting against me. My breath is shorted and I drop my head down, wanting to appreciate every sensation.

  He stops and I catch my breath. “Open your eyes, Angel.”

  Pushing up when I open my eyes, I lock my elbows to hold myself steady. His hands slide slowly up my arms, traveling the length until he takes hold of my shoulders. “Are you ready?”

  With my hazels still locked on his greens, I analyze his mood. He’s calculated and sexy and I want him to devour me whole. “I’m ready. Are you?”

  In one fast move, my head hits the mirror as he pounds into me.

  Holding tight to my shoulders he fucks me hard. “Dalton!” I cry out, needing all of it, all of him, taking it all and loving the feel of him more. My knees weaken and deep inside I begin to uncoil.

  I watch him as I push myself closer to that edge where reality meets ecstasy. His jaw tightens, highlighting the rigid angles that wrap around his chin. There’s a vein that I only see in two settings—on stage singing and when we’re fucking. He drives me to want more, so I move against him. His fingers dig into my hips, one hand directly over the tattoo he loves to trace when we’re sleepy.

  One hand moves between us and two fingers find the spot he knows will send me over again and he rubs. My world bends, perpetuating the gratification. “Oh God! Dalton!” I collapse onto the counter, too tired to hold myself up. My hips are grabbed and he hits my soul in places I forget exist until he touches them, bringing me to life again.

  He shudders, moaning my name as he comes. With his body molded to the back of mine, he licks a spot on my shoulder at the back of my neck. Desire getting the best of me again, through breathy whispers, I say, “I want you to mark me.”

  “You’re too beautiful to damage.”

  I open my eyes and lift up to find his on mine in the mirror again. “I’ll heal, but I want a piece of you while you’re gone.” He smiles, and I add, “Guess that makes me a groupie after all.”

  “A groupie is a one-sided infatuation.” Bringing me upright with his arms around me, he lifts me up and carries me into the bedroom. He sets me down on the bed and lies down next to me. I maneuver over him, wanting to have him beneath me. I rest my head on his shoulder, my bare body on top of his. Rubbing my back, he says, “There’s nothing one-sided about us, Angel. We fuck hard, but we love harder.” I hear the sincerity in his voice, feeding my soul. I close my eyes, enjoying this time together.

  I wake up before the alarm goes off. His dark brown hair is messy from sex. Just the way I like it most. Seeing him now and having a nap were enough to renew me. A room service order is placed before I start the shower. Once under the warm water, I close my eyes. It feels good to be drenched by the spray. As my body relaxes, so does my mind.

  Over the course of our relationship, I’ve learned that taking a shower is like a beacon, calling Dalton to me. He steps into the shower behind me and kisses my shoulder. “Hi,” he says as the water hits him.

  “Hi.”

  “So what did you have to promise Tracy to let you skip out of work?”

  I turn in his arms, sharing the warm water. “I have to leave tomorrow morning and work through the weekend.”

  “Is it worth it?”

  Lifting up on my toes, I kiss his chin. “More than worth it.”

  The grin on his face is small and completely charming. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.” I trade places with him and shampoo my hair as he soaks his. “You ready for tonight? You have to leave in forty-five minutes.”

  He nods with his eyes closed. The water rains down on him and I see his body relax under the heat. “You coming?”

  “I just did. Twice. Thank you for that.” I poke him in the abs, which are rock hard, and laugh as I change places with him and start rinsing my hair.

  He tries to hide it, but I see his smile. “You’re welcome. I still owe you for way more.”

  “After what we just did, I say we’re even.” His voice is low, calm, and deep. His lips are pressed behind my ear while his hands roam over my breasts. My head falls back on his shoulder and my eyes close, enjoying the intimacy.

  When his fingers slide smooth like water between my legs, I whisper, “I can’t. I think I need a little recovery time.” I turn around and his hand graces my cheek, tilting my head up. His hair i
s flat down, drenched, water droplets running over his face and down his body. “I only need a short reprieve.”

  With a sly grin, out of nowhere he asks, “Why do you love being married to a rock star?”

  “What?” I reply, not understanding where this is coming from.

  “You said you love being married to a rock star… you said that earlier.”

  “I remember now,” I say, giggling. “I love it because everything people hear about rock stars is true—the passion, the highs, the lows, and the fantastic sex. And despite living in the eye of a hurricane, we’ve managed to weather more than our fair share of obstacles in our way.”

  “We’re stronger than the will of the universe trying to keep us apart.”

  He’s right. “We’re bonded by more than a marriage license.” Our hearts are connected on a level that can never be put into words.

  Like the song we both sing in our hearts, he says, “Among the hardness of the world is the softness of home. Our bodies make a melody that’s become our anthem.” He moves closer and runs his nose down the length of my jaw, then comes back and kisses my lips. Our kisses are love and gentleness, packed with intentions for more.

  “I’ll always love you,” I whisper relaxing in his arms, somewhere between euphoria and lucidity. I’m tired, but I never tire of his hands on me. Dalton caresses my body much like he caresses his guitar, sensual, and careful, playing by heart.

  “Why do you love me?” he asks, his voice a whisper in my ear as I close my eyes.

  “Because you gave me the fairytale when I didn’t believe in them.”

  His lips find that softest spot behind my ear and he lingers before gently placing a kiss. “Don’t ever leave me.”

  I turn in his arms so I’m facing him. Stroking the backs of my fingers against the rough scruff of his cheek, I reply “I could never leave you. You’re a part of my soul. Besides, it’s you who’s leaving me.”

  The water is shut off and towels are grabbed. He says, “Not by choice. Duty calls, but I’d change it all if you asked.”