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Reckless (Forever #6) Page 12
Author: Priscilla West

"What the hell was that?" I asked as he straightened. "Who were those people?" I looked down at the damage. My blazer had a tear in one sleeve, my favorite skirt was puddle-spattered, and my hair was a wet mess, the tight bun I had earlier long gone. First day on the job—no, first hour on the job—and I was a wreck.

Stud calmly went to the wood-paneled bar a few feet away against the opposite wall and looked through a collection of bottles that would’ve made most bars proud. Picking up a bottle of Stoli, he poured himself a drink with a slight shake in his hand, spilling a few drops on the counter. His chest rose with each breath, silk hair damp against his shoulders. I watched in astonishment as he drank, looking outside at the passing cars, ignoring me, or at least taking his sweet time before answering.

"Hello?" I said, raising my voice to get his attention.

He put the tumblr to his lips again and tossed it back.

He’s drinking vodka instead of answering me? I clenched my hands over my knees in frustration. "Dude, hello??"

He finished a gulp, set the glass down, and turned back to face me. A few damp strands had fallen across his face, and he looked at me from behind inky locks. "The girl I slept with the other night . . . apparently she had a boyfriend," he said casually.

My eyes widened. "Are you saying I almost got beaten to a pulp all because you’re a homewrecker?" I asked. I thought about how I saved him from that scary guy with the dreadlocks and threw my hands up in exasperation. "I can’t believe this! I should’ve left you to get choked out by the Predator."

"Hey if I’d known she had a boyfriend," he said gruffly, "I wouldn’t have done it. She lied to me."

"Oh sure," I said, though it wasn’t hard to imagine a girl lying to get into his pants. Compared to the lengths women went through on Saturday night to be with him—myself included—lying was a small thing.

"I’m serious. Look, I didn’t mean to get you involved," he said, finishing the last of his drink. Then he looked at me carefully. "Wait there for a second."

He reached into a nearby cabinet, pulled out a first aid kit, and came over to the couch where he kneeled in front of me. "You’re hurt. Let me take care of it."

His concern surprised me enough to diminish my irritation. I only had a few bumps and scratches, but I was still shaken after what had happened. I tried putting on a strong face. "I’m fine."

His eyes flicked to my arm. "No, you’re not." He tried raising my right arm to see, but I pulled away when I saw a cut on his bottom lip. He was in much worse shape than I was.

"I’m fine," I repeated stubbornly. "It’s just a scratch. Besides, you should take care of yourself first. I saw you take some hard hits."

"Shut up, Pepper," he said gruffly. "And let me see it." He tried lifting my arm again and, seeing how determined he was to care for my wounds before his own, I grudgingly let him. He touched the skin on my elbow gently and I flinched. "Hold still," he said with a calm but firm tone.

"Fine," I relinquished.

As he unpacked the first aid kit in front of me, I accidentally glanced at his eyebrow scar and then couldn’t stop staring at it. I idly wondered if it came from a fight like the one we’d just had. On another face, it could’ve been a flaw. On Stud’s, it gave him a dangerous, dark edge that made my heart beat faster.

Something touched my elbow. "Ow! Fuck! Motherfu—" He gripped my forearm firmly, holding me steady. I bit my lip, allowing him to finish cleansing the wound with hydrogen peroxide.

He blew softly on my skin, soothing the area before applying a bandage. "You had a pretty bad cut but I cleaned out the dirt. Fortunately, you’re not gonna need stitches."

"Thanks," I said, cheeks heated. I was more surprised by his tenderness than I was about the state of my wound. I didn’t think he had this side to him.

"You helped me back there. It’s the least I can do." Still kneeling, he pulled out some more supplies and began to tend to his own wounds.

"Do you need any help?" I offered.

Shaking the hair from his eyes, he smiled and shot me a curious look. "Do you know why this mess happened in the first place? It’s because I trusted you that night."

My brows knitted together. "What?"

"I wouldn’t have slept with that girl if you hadn’t pulled that fast one on me, Pepper."

He’s blaming me for all of this? My warm fondness for him evaporated quicker than the rubbing alcohol he was applying to his cuts. "Oh my god. Look," I said sternly, "first my name’s not Pepper. It’s Riley. Second, I’m not your boner’s keeper."

His smile widened. "Riley, huh? I like that."

I waited for him to address the second part of my response. When he finished wrapping himself without answering, I realized his accusation had only been intended to push my buttons. That jerk. "Judging from what everyone around here says about you, you must be Jax. The man in charge," I said, using my fingers to make air quotes.

His smile faded. "You didn’t already know?"

"No, I didn’t know your name or even the name of your band until today."

He looked genuinely perplexed. "You’re telling me you showed up here without knowing anything about me or my band?"

"Yes, your label hired us last minute. All the files used the term 'HC' to refer to your band. I only now just figured out it stands for ‘The Hitchcocks’."

"Wait," he said, his eyes widening. "You’re the new tour accountant?"

Now I was the confused one. "What did you think I was?"

A moment passed and a devilish smile appeared on his lips. "Interesting."

Oh no. I knew that look. I’d seen it before, backstage at the Wallabee. It was the same one I remember picturing as I pleasured myself at the tail-end of that night. "Whatever you’re thinking, stop thinking about it."

The way his gaze on me intensified began to make me ache in other places. "I’m just thinking about what a pleasure it’ll be working with you . . . " he said, the word pleasure rolled off his tongue like a silk ribbon, sensuous and inviting, ". . . if our first meeting was any indication."

Anxiety returned as more implications sunk in. I recalled Kristen’s advice about not mixing business with pleasure and realized that I already had, even before my first day on the assignment. God. Fuuuck my life.

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Priscilla West's Novels
» Fearless (Forever #7)
» Reckless (Forever #6)
» Rescued (Forever #5)
» Wrecked (Forever #4)
» Beautiful Surrender (Forever #3)
» Secret Surrender (Forever #2)
» Forbidden Surrender (Forever #1)
» The Sandstone Affair