Twisted Rhythm: A Dark Rockstar Romance (Twisted Rhythm Series Book 1) Page 9

  Hmmm, finally nailed the one that got away, she thought, looking up at Jake, so arrogant, leaning on the bathroom door frame. She knew better but couldn’t control herself and took him down a notch.

  “Fine Jake, think you’re the only one that can play the game? I’ll tell you what happened, you stupid conceited prick. Yeah, I was upset and hurt and pissed to the max. I partied with Wade who was so happy to see me again you’d think he’d found God. Nothing like a divine reminder to slap you in the face about the one you threw away. And, believe me, if he didn’t regret it before he’s sure as hell regretting it now, for the rest of his life cause I fucked him till the sun came up.”

  Jake’s eyes flashed fury. He straightened.

  “I rode him Jake, really fucking hard!”

  He stared at her, reeling, not knowing what to say or do. Rage, betrayal and a hopeless, gripping agony washed over him. Jesus fucking Christ, he thought, what else can this bitch do to me? She shifted restlessly on the bed, her resolve gone, the enormity of her confession sinking in. Jake hung his head, chest tight, mouth dry and struggling to breathe. For a few moments, silence weighed between them like a vice, an eerie cold paralysis, and for the first time in a long time Jake wanted to die. And he wanted to take Amanda with him.

  He looked up, “You fucking whore...You motherfuckin’ cheap piece of white trash shit,” his voice was low, chilling, driven, his eyes furious and crazed.

  Never taking them off her, he straightened and stretched, stepping away from the door frame, sweeping his long sensuous hair off his shoulders, down his back. His bangs, wispy and seductive, fell back into his turbulent eyes. Even in his fury, even in his pain, he remained an intoxicating, conquering rock god, sheer heaven to the sight and rapture to the touch. He advanced and Amanda cowered, scrambling to the top of the bed. My God I’m going to die, she thought, he’s actually going to kill me this time. But on the bed crawling towards her, biceps taut and muscles rippling, he smiled.

  “Wade doesn’t seem like such a good idea now, does he?”

  Suddenly aware that she was cold, so cold and violently trembling, Amanda grabbed insanely at the white cotton sheets in a desperate attempt to cover and shield herself.

  He laughed, bitter and arrogant, “Little late for that now, isn’t it?”

  He slithered towards her, his amazingly toned agile body sliding effortlessly on the crisp sheets. Sitting in front of her as she cringed cross-legged against the head board, he effortlessly pulled the sheet down off her. Oh my God, she thought, just get it over with, whatever horrible things you’re going to do to me, just get it over with. But he took his time.

  “So tell me again,” he said evenly, alluring green eyes darkened, “why the fuck ya here? Coulda just revealed the truth about Wade in your sequel or on some fuckin’ talk show. Ya really felt the need to personally stab me in the heart?”

  Her mind swirled, thoughts racing, she’d never meant to tell Jake about Wade, ever. He knew they’d fucked around in high school; She’d told him what a self-serving, egotistical prick Wade was and how he’d been double dealing, finally dumping her for her sister’s best friend, but she’d vowed to herself on the plane during takeoff that she’d never, in a billion or so years, admit to Jake that she’d repeated her mistake, yet again.

  His ardent eyes so injured delving into hers, Amanda could barely look at him.

  “Jake please,” she begged, “let me explain.”

  “No need,” he sneered, forlorn and dejected, “you couldn’t ’a made things more clear.”

  For a moment they sat without speaking, Amanda struggling for words and Jake seething with rage. But he held it, until she spoke again.

  “Wade doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  Then he slapped her, hysterical, “Oh yeah? That what you were thinking as you came?!”

  His long luxurious hair flying as he cornered her, he grabbed hers insanely, forcing her to look up at him.

  “Was it good baby?” he crooned, “Did he fuck you good?”

  She’d never seen him so angry, so hyped, not even during their infamous final incident. Not when he taped her mouth and shackled her in the closet when she wouldn’t confess, not when he bound her to his bed posts wielding the bottle of Jim Beam, not when he anally raped her with it, not afterwards when he flogged her with motorcycle chains or after that when he anally raped her himself, nearly smothering her face in the pillow in his rage.

  His eyes wild with jealousy as, glaring at her, he grasped her hair, she could think of nothing to say. The past was what it was, Wade, her sordid tell-all book and the insidious, degenerate decay of their entire dysfunctional relationship. Yet, delving past the tortured anger in his eyes, she wanted nothing more than to have him back, have him love and trust her again. She wanted completeness and comfort, resurrection from the misery that had engulfed her nearly all her life. She wanted safety and atonement and acceptance. Wholeness and salvation. Everything that for her, was Jake.

  “You fucking slut,” he rasped, “What the fuck’s wrong with you, huh? I wasn’t good enough for you, is that it?” he smacked her, harder this time and she nearly passed out from the blow. He eased himself on top of her, sliding his hot, muscular body against hers as she lay pinned on her back, gripping her hair in both of his hands. She could barely breathe.

  “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” now they were nose to nose, his heated breath in her face, his hair draping smoothly into her eyes and down, onto her breasts.

  “Why the fuck would you spread your legs for that lowlife scumsucking piece of ignorant shit?” his eyes, half concealed beneath his bangs, blazed vengeance.

  Dear God, she kept thinking, I can’t lose him all over again, I don’t care what he does to me as long as we end up together.

  “I’m sorry Jake,” she begged, gasping for air, “I was so mad at you. You hurt me more than you’ll ever know. Wade never meant fuck all to me. Jake, please, I only want you, I’ve only ever loved you.”

  “That right?” his eyes consumed fire.

  He gripped her hair harder, slamming her head into the mattress, leaned closer and whispered, his lips touching hers, “And just what would make you think I’d wanna wet it in the same filthy hole Wade’s been dippin’ into?”

  She had no answer. There was no answer. She cried.

  Suddenly releasing his grip, he propped up slightly on his elbow, still lying on top of her, and lovingly smoothed the hair from her eyes. She wanted to die then, staring at him on top of her, so jaded and wracked with pain.

  She didn’t dare move a muscle but, gasping, she whispered, “Jake, please understand.”

  “Understand?” he cut her off, laughing bitterly, “Isn’t hard to understand that what motivates you is between your legs and that sweet pussy of yours ain’t too selective, is it now?”

  Shaking, she slowly eased her arm out from under him, caressing his divinely tattooed shoulder, his smooth neck, and wound her fingers through his long, soft hair.

  “You hurt me so much I wanted to die Jake. I’m so sorry, I wanted to hurt you. I guess I just wanted to go and be somewhere where I was appreciated.”

  His eyes flared.

  “But even then, I only wanted you. My God, I only thought of you.”

  He glared at her, eyes storming as he lowered his head, his hot breath assaulting her face.

  “Bullshit,” he crooned softly, his lips touching hers. “I fuckin’ doubt you were thinking ’bout me as he pounded you into oblivion.”

  So damn insightful. So resigned. Before she could even begin to think of an answer, he raised up again slightly and let his eyes wander, down slowly from hers to her neck, her enticing breasts, her tight stomach and lower, along her smooth thighs, all the way down to her toes. He looked back up at her, smiling.

  “What he do? He do this?” adeptly pinching her nipple, caressing her breast and smoothly pressing his palm along her stomach and lower, gently, efficiently, spreading her legs.

 
; Her pussy heated, her body boiled.

  “And this?” his skillful fingers moving cleverly between her bruised but no longer bloodied thighs, brushing lightly against her moist pussy, tenderly tickling and pulling on her lips already wet there.

  She arched her back, moaning, “Oh my God,” but then abruptly opened her eyes when he stopped.

  “What?” he laughed innocently, waving his hand in a what d’ya want me to do now motion.

  A beating, she thought squirming, would have been better than this. His eyes flashing contempt, he glared at her. Stupid tramp, he thought, bet Wade did exactly the same fucking thing.

  No one had ever touched her like Jake had. Aching, she craved so much more. Caressing his smooth, hard chest, she moaned softly, raised her head and bit lightly on his nipple, swinging the chain piercing hanging there. For a moment he closed his eyes in sweet anticipation but then caught himself, remembering his game.

  “Oh wait,” he chided, half sitting up, his hair flying in her face, “You’d rather have your high school sweetheart. Quick, where’s the phone? What’s his number? I’d better call him to come and finish you off.”

  “You asshole!” she screamed, punching him in the chest.

  Unshaken, he merely stared at her, his cold green eyes defiant, lifting his arm over his head and smoothing back his long sensuous hair.

  “I’m the asshole, huh?” he smirked, laughing softly, “Shoulda thought about who you really wanted during your little play stay in Conroy. What’s the matter baby? Didn’t he do it for you? Can’t he get it up for you good as I can?”

  “You goddamn prick,” she seethed.

  “You’re a whore,” he rasped wickedly, leaned over and kissed her, long and hard and open-mouthed.

  His tongue teasing hers, she gasped in ecstasy. He was moaning softly, enjoying his seduction and she thought she’d go crazy with the feel of his hair, warm and soft and inviting, brushing against her cheeks and draping her neck and breasts. My God, she thought, he really knows what he’s doing. Nothing’s changed. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

  They lay there like that, kissing, for a long, long while, entwining their legs, sliding and rocking their naked bodies against each other, wrapping their fingers crazily in each other’s hair. Anger and rivalry fueling his fire, Jake nearly lost himself in the moment, despite the depths of his betrayal and rage.

  As he lifted his head and gazed down at her, blonde silky delicious hair tousled across her face, he realized he hadn’t even begun to write the true song of agony, the monstrous reality of passion, deceit and stinging pain. In spite of her more than three year forced absence, she’d never really left his presence, never truly vacated his soul. Goddamn bitch was going to pay.

  “Make love to me Jake,” she whispered sweetly, smoothing the hair along his face, lingering her soft blue eyes on his full delicious lips and goatee. “Honey I want you more than anything in the world.”

  Enraged, trembling, he complied.

  Grateful for her pain as he entered her, guess the stupid cunt hadn’t thought of the discipline he’d doled out via his cowboy boots a little earlier, he was astonished that, even in his devastation, she still felt so incredibly fucking good. Damn her, he thought as he pumped, bracing himself on top of her. Her pussy was still so tight and wet and intoxicatingly warm.

  He pumped harder, picking up his pace, “Am I doin’ you as good as Wade?”

  “Fuck off Jake,” she gasped beneath him, he sure knew how to try and kill the mood.

  As he labored, his breath rasping and long hair slapping her face as he rode, she closed her eyes in wicked double ecstasy born out of the sweet mixture of pleasure and pain. Witches’ brew cocktail that no one could ever hope to serve up as well as Jake, and he knew it.

  “Like that, don’t you?” he crooned, panting, watching her squirm. “Tell me what ya want,” he whispered, leaning closer, sweat dripping down lusciously onto her from his face.

  Lost in the rapture of the moment, Amanda could barely speak, much less think of a coherent reply. Arching her back and grasping his shoulders, by now so slippery with his sweat, she spread her legs wider, pulling them towards her chest. Instantly he slid in deeper and they both smiled and moaned.

  “Gonna cum for me baby?” he whispered, kissing her face.

  His saying it made it that much closer and she ran her hands crazily through his hair, pulling him closer, and ground her hips eagerly against his.

  “Fuck me,” she whispered.

  Nose to nose, he smiled.

  “I am fucking you. Want it harder?”

  She gasped, delicious warm pulsations emanating from her pussy, through her legs, up deliciously into her chest and flushing her face.

  She begged, her hands on his head, her lips touching his, “I want you...I just wanna be part of you...”

  He slammed his hands on her knees, ramming them to her shoulders, buried his face in her neck and silky blonde hair and gave it all he had. Holy fuck, he thought, groaning, his moans and gasps mingling with hers, it never felt so goddamn good and they both reeled from the intensity of the ascension. Indulging in every convulsion as she got closer, she flexed her muscles and tightened her pussy, deep and hard around his dick. He lost himself in the moment, sheer and utter ecstasy permeating his every pore.

  “Tell me when,” he whispered, hot and lathered and gasping for air. “I wanna feel you cum,” and he was almost there.

  And then finally, heightening the already present sounds of slippery, hot and horny, decadent wet sex, she screamed, crying, and tore at his back.

  “Now?” he gasped, his face on top of hers, his sweat dripping into her opened mouth.

  “Oh God Jake now!” she screamed and cried and tore at his hair.

  And as the convulsions ravaged her body she felt his juices, hot and filling, exploding into her. His cum, adding to her wetness, catapulted them right over the edge, sent them barreling headlong into intoxicating, paralyzing, shameless carnal oblivion.

  Chapter 6

  Sumatra soared effortlessly through the air and up onto her perch, chuffed softly and gazed down expectantly at Tyler Cassidy below. Oblivious to the huffs and occasional roars around her, she waited for her next cue. She’s coming along great, Tyler had told Amanda just the day before, prior to her leaving for Oregon. What the hell was she thinking, going away just a week prior to premiering her newest show? And just what on earth could she hope to accomplish, he couldn’t help wondering even as he raised his arm, motioning Tonga to a more rigid sitting position and then up, high and higher on hind legs. Safari, perched at Tonga’s right, watched her brother intently as he postured but stayed put, anxiously awaiting her own command. Now over three years old, Kontikki’s cubs were large enough to be impressive, schooled enough to be amazing and disciplined enough to be trusted. Pity, Tyler thought, that lately Amanda wasn’t nearly as focused.

  Behind him Marcus rolled out and adjusted the hoop, eyeing the tigers as they remained poised obediently on hind legs.

  “Light it?” he questioned and when Tyler nodded, set the apparatus aflame.

  “OK kids,” Tyler smiled, steadying them with a lift of his chin and raised arms, “Time to show ‘em you do this as good as your momma.”

  Their father Morocco had retired in splendor at age 10 half a year ago to live out his days on Amanda’s estate lounging by the ponds and basking on pink granite boulders in the comforting California sun. Their mother Kontikki, only seven and a half, now reigned as unequaled feline attraction of the show. Stepping sideways, Tyler looked at Safari, swept his left arm towards the hoop and nodded.

  “Safari, jump!” and she sailed confidently through its center to land unscathed on the ground’s soft sand about 10 feet in front.

  With a little prompting she settled and crouched down six feet to her left, her long tail sprawled leisurely behind her. Tonga next and Sumatra last, the babies eased through this part of their routine without a hitch. Pleased with
them and satisfied with his training, Tyler ordered each cat back into the adjacent holding pen and asked the handlers to walk them back to their compound.

  “That it for today?” Marcus questioned, surprised.

  Tyler shrugged, “Nothing more we can do without Amanda Markie. It’s her show and she’s not here.”

  About to ask where she was but thinking better of it, Marcus merely nodded and set about rolling the hoop out of the way. God knows where she is right now, Tyler thought, sweeping his long dark brown hair back from his face, down his back. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it since Amanda had told him yesterday she was leaving for Oregon to confront Jake. He’d had a bad feeling all day and rising apprehension as today rolled on.

  No one, not even Kat, had heard a thing from her. He’d called, Kat had called, but she wasn’t answering her cell. Either she somehow hadn’t gotten near Jake and she was too upset to talk or she’d gotten to him and she was too upset, or too busy, to respond. Neither scenario was good; and whatever way the second one unfolded, if it happened at all, it was the far worse of the two. Jake was trouble. Far more than he was worth.

  Grabbing the diagram of the stage setup and props, he did his best to concentrate on his job. After Amanda shepherded the babies off the stage it was time for Kahari, Seh-Khan, Sahara and Kontikki to make their final entrance. As the cats leapt from perch to perch amidst pyro and shimmering golden rain, Amanda would rise high above them, climbing and sensually entwining her legs in aerial silks and breaking into her aerial acrobatics routine. Finally, letting go with her hands, she’d hang upside down by her legs for a few moments and then cartwheel down to settle atop Kontikki’s back.

  From there she’d ride Kontikki down the illuminated ramp, prompt her up on hind legs to spin around, slide off her back and then arch backwards till her hands touched the ground and she was carried offstage in Kontikki’s mouth, followed by Kahari, Sahara and Seh-Khan. Dangerous, Tyler couldn’t stop thinking, but nothing compared to what she might be facing at the moment with Jake. Damn her, he cringed. Why’d she have to be so stubborn? Why’d she have to be so ridiculously, desperately in love?