Page 18 of Fractured Destiny

I kiss her again to shut them out.

For a minute, it works. Her tongue slides against mine. Her confident fingers move to my belt. She shifts off my lap and kneels between my knees, smiling up at me as she unbuckles the leather and opens my jeans. No coy bullshit.

She wants me, wants this, and every part of her body language tells me she has no regrets about making it clear.

My cock is rock hard before she wraps her fingers around me.

Thank Christ. This is what I need.

Mason is right. I’ve turned one night with a woman who gave me a fake name into some tragic masterpiece because I’ve spent too much time alone with a notebook and a bad attitude. The cure for overthinking is a gorgeous woman on her knees in a dressing room in Wichita.

Tessa hoovers my cock into her mouth.

The suction is intense. Heat punches through me. My hand grips the back of the couch, and for a few seconds my body takes over in the best possible way. She knows what she’s doing. Damn well. My hips begin to jerk before I can stop them.

Then my fucking brain catches up.

I stare at the top of her head, at the silver rings on her fingers spanning my hips. Then the peeling band sticker on the mirror behind her.

Her mouth stays hot. My body keeps reacting. The rest of me checks out.

One second I’m in the moment, and the next I’m standing outside the whole thing, watching myself accept an incredible blowjob I’m not able to fully enjoy.

I touch her shoulder. “Hey.”

She stops immediately and looks up. Her lipstick is smeared around puffy lips, and the sight should make me want to pull her back down.

It doesn’t.

“I’m sorry.” The words come out and I’m already hating myself for the apology.

Her expression changes in increments. Confusion first, then offense, then something sharper once she fits the pieces together. She releases me and sits back on her heels while I tuck myself into my jeans like a fucking idiot.

“Does she know you’re a cheater?” The words land flat between us.

I could lie. Say I’m tired. Blame whiskey, the show, the road, the shitty couch, anything. Instead, I stand there with my belt hanging open and no explanation worth insulting either of us with.

“I’m not.”

Tessa rises and smooths her tank top down over her stomach. For a second she studies me like a puzzle she has no interest in solving. Fair enough. I wouldn’t waste time on me either.

“No offense, Lake, but that’s bullshit.”

I nod. “Probably.”

She grabs her purse from the couch. At the door, she pauses long enough to look back. “Whoever she is, good luck to her. She’s gonna need it.”

The door clicks shut behind her.

I stare at it long enough for the headliner to launch into another song. Someone laughs in the hallway. My tingling cock finally gets the memo and gives up.

Goddammit.

A few minutes later, Mason opens the door without knocking because he’s never respected a boundary in his life. Or, he saw the girl leave in a huff. Evan stands behind him, bass case slung over one shoulder. One look at my face tells them enough.

Mason’s mouth twitches. “Please tell me you didn’t chase off the hot girl.”

“Get out.” I point to the door.