But I can tell he’s lying. He does know. He just doesn’t want to spill more truth than he already has this morning. I tug against his grip on my head and press my mouth to his in a warm, drowsy kind of kiss. Nolan whimpers into my mouth as I back him up against the edge of the pool. I curl a protectivearm around the back of his neck so his head doesn’t hit the edge. Another whimper escapes Nolan when I change the kiss from drowsy to demanding, plunging my tongue into him to lick every crevice, to own his mouth with mine.
I pull away from him panting, finally meeting his half-lidded gaze. “When I’m here, you belong to me.”
Nolan slowly closes his eyes to blot me out. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
I squeeze my arm tighter around his neck. “To me,” I growl.
“Fine, Benji,” Nolan relents, sounding tired beyond belief.
I kiss him again because I can, because at this moment he’s hurting and I want to fix it. That’s what I do. I fix everything for everyone, keep them smiling, keep them happy. It’s all I’ve ever known. Sunshine personified. We kiss long enough for Nolan to lose patience with it. He finally shoves me away with a tired, frustrated sort of look.
I watch him flee the pool, his fingers flexing at his side as he strides naked and uncaring back into his bedroom. God, he makes no sense. And he makes me act in a way that I’ve never acted before. Makes me feel territorial, possessive. I don’t know how to contain it to keep him from being angry with me. I’m just here to fuck him when he needs the release, when he’s gone too long without human touch.
Giving him what he needs, while simultaneously getting what I want, is going to be the hardest game I’ve ever played.
“My best friend has a G-Wagon too,”I tell Nolan as I climb into his Mercedes.
“Oh yeah?” Nolan asks, totally disinterested.
I nod quickly while buckling myself in. “Yeah, Jackson. He’s got a matte black one. It’s his baby.”
A hint of a smile tugs up the corners of Nolan’s mouth. “The matte ones are nice.”
“Right?”
Nolan hums as he pulls out of the gate surrounding his home. I tried to cook dinner for us but Nolan had waved me off, saying something about eating snacks at the dive bar. I’d not quite believed him that it would be enough, so I ate one of the protein bars I found in his pantry. Next time I’m here I need to bring my protein shakes with me or maybe his grocery crew could grab me some.
Nolan had tossed an outfit to me, perfectly my size and ordered I’d wear it. Black skinny jeans and a black T-shirt that hugs all the muscles on my torso. When I’d walked out of the bathroom, Nolan had almost smiled at the sight of me. Nolan wears something similar, but he has a silver chain around his neck with a crucifix. Artful rips dot his jeans showing peeks of his myriad of tattoos. He’s hot as sin and I want to fuck him again.
“Why are you an escort?” Nolan asks, apropos of nothing.
I turn slightly in the passenger seat so I can let the full weight of my gaze fall on him. Nolan squirms slightly in his seat, but otherwise remains unaffected.
“I like to fuck and I’m good at it, might as well be paid to do it.”
Nolan laughs and my heart triples in size. Oh, he has a nice laugh. Just as deep as his voice. It rolls through me and lights me up inside. He bites the corner of his lip and flicks his gaze quickly to me, before returning it to the road.
“Guess that’s a good enough answer as any.”
“What would you be if you weren’t a rockstar?”
Nolan taps the steering wheel thoughtfully. “One of those guys who run the rental chair business at the beach.”
The answer is so shocking that a laugh startles out of me. “What?”
Nolan nods slowly. “You know, those guys who charge like twenty bucks for a chair at the beach? I’d do that. Just have a nice little business so that I could spend all day by the ocean.”
“I think that’s the most original answer to that question ever.”
Nolan turns the music dial up to signal he’s finished with the conversation. Heavy rock music fills the inside of the car, but I can tell it’s not his music. I’ve spent the past few months listening to Nolan on repeat. While his music is definitely heavy rock, he sings lighter ballads sometimes. Those are my favorites. The songs that showcase his low, sultry but sad voice. But the songs where he screams and yells are also good, probably better for the people that like that sort of thing.
The remainder of the way to the dive bar is silent. Nolan parks in one of the remaining empty spots without any fanfare. For a Sunday night, the place is packed. It’s a small joint, painted black, with a neon sign that flashesThe Anti-Social. Nolan hops out of the car without a backward glance toward me, all but forcing me to hustle out of the car to sprint after him. He aims the key fob over his shoulder to lock the car, then pauses in the middle of the packed parking lot to stare blankly at me.
In the darkness, surrounded by cars, with the pulse thumping around us from the dive bar, Nolan tugs me to him to press a rough kiss against my mouth. His kiss steals the breath from me like he’s sucking the air out for his own parched lungs. When he pulls away from me, his eyes are dark and that miserable look he often wears is back on his too-beautiful face. Angrily swiping his hand across his mouth, he shoves me back a step with two fingers against my chest.
“Don’t touch me in there. No matter what. Okay?”
With that lone demand, Nolan stalks off towards the bar before I can even summon an answer. I follow him inside, walking as close to him as I dare. As long as I can still smell him, I figure I’m close enough. Bright red and blue neon signs flash over the walls. The bar smells familiar, like sweat and beer.
