Chapter 34

He didn't lower his gaze as he spoke. "She looked like a monster. The accident twisted her body, smashed her face. Every inch of her was swollen and broken and bloody and bruised. I couldn't stand to look at her. My father told me I'd better tell her good-bye before it was too late, but I ran away and hid. I hid for hours until my father found me. He beat me so badly that I couldn't get out of bed. I missed her funeral. I couldn't stop him from getting rid of her piano. I was too weak. And too scared." His eyes brimmed with tears. "There was nothing left of her for me to hold on to. Nothing." He took a deep shuddering breath. "I should have said good-bye. I wasn't strong enough. I wasn't…" Tears dripped from both eyes, and he squeezed them shut.

"Of course, you were afraid. You were a child, Jace. You shouldn't have been forced to be strong. It's okay. You have to forgive yourself. You have to."

He bit his lip and shook his head.

She reached up and released his hands from the restraints. When he tried to turn away, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held him. He didn't pull away as she expected, but instead, burrowed hs face in her neck and trembled with emotions. She didn't push him. She let him fall apart or pull himself together, whichever he needed.

Slowly, his ragged breathing returned to normal. Sometime in the long moments that he held her, she realized she needed this as much as he did. He gave her something no one else ever had. He gave her a reason to live—a future to look forward to and someone to love. With everything she was or dared hope to be.

"Let's go watch the show," he murmured.

She leaned away to look at him. "Huh?"

"The concert. I want to watch it tonight."

"Even with Jon onstage?"

"Yeah."

"Do I get to be your date?"

He flushed and grinned. "Will you?"

"Of course. Will you tell me about your father?"

His smile faded into a scowl. "Haven't you already pushed me enough about my past?"

She watched his fortified emotional wall slip into place.

"When you're ready, baby," she amended. "I'll wait. I want you to know you can tell me anything."

"Can I tell you that you're too nosy?"

She chuckled. "Yeah."

"Can I tell you that even though you always rip my heart out, you really do make me feel better?"

"I do?"

He nodded. "Not sure why you stick around."

"I already told you why. I love you. You'll get it eventually." She kissed him tenderly. "Get dressed. We have a concert to attend."

***

Jace took a seat in the folding chair at the edge of the darkened stage. Aggie stood behind him and rested her hands on his shoulders. He knew she was staking her claim—could practically feel the my man vibes coming off her—but he didn't mind. He was getting used to the idea that he belonged to her. He concentrated on the noise of the crowd and not the sound of Jon thumbing his bass guitar behind them as he warmed up.

"When are you going to start playing shows again?" Aggie asked.

"As soon as Jon leaves."

"Are you well enough to play now?"

"I think so."

"Then why don't you say something to the guys?"

Jace shrugged. He didn't want to sound like a complainer. Jon was doing them a favor by taking up his slack. Besides, Eric preferred Jon. The rest of the band probably did too. And the fans. He knew they'd rather watch Jon perform.

Aggie leaned over and kissed Jace's temple. He glanced at her, and his heart swelled with emotion. These feelings he had for this woman were foreign. He wasn't sure what they meant.

"You should play at least one song for the fans tonight," she pressed. "They miss you."

"Nah."

"One song for me then. I want to hear you play. Go say something to Sed."

"Say what to Sed?" Sed asked from the dark space near Jace's right elbow.

Jace turned his attention to the empty stage. "Forget it."

"Does your woman need to speak for you?"

Jace sighed. "She wants me to play a song onstage tonight."

"How about 'Twisted' in the encore?" Brian said.

"Yeah, that would be sweet," Trey said.

Had anyone not overheard their conversation?

"Yeah, good idea," Sed said. "I'll go tell Dave." He trotted down the steps to the floor beside the stage where all the mixing equipment had been set up. He picked up a headset with a mic and started talking to Dave, who was manning the soundboard and controls in the middle of the audience.

Jace supposed he had to play now. He wondered how Jon would react. And wasn't sure why he cared.

As soon as Sed returned, a blue light flooded the stage from ground level. Eric tapped the first beats of "Gates of Hell," and Trey and Brian dashed across the stage to take their places. Jon followed several steps behind, careening into Jace's chair on his way past. Jace planted his feet firmly on the floor to keep from toppling over. Aggie's hands tightened on his shoulders.

"Whoops, didn't see you there, little man," Jon said, before joining the band onstage.

"He did that on purpose. He's a fucking asshole," Aggie said between clenched teeth.

Sed entered with his signature battle cry, having abandoned using the violin in several songs now. The stage lights came on from above, and the crowd went wild. Sed lifted his hand to the audience, increasing their excitement with his attention. The guy had been born to be a star. Jace was used to seeing the back of Sed's head while onstage, so watching his facial expressions as he sang his heart out held a strange fascination. As did Jon's blatant attempts to upstage him. Jon moved from leaning against Trey, who was laughing his ass off, to standing on the center ego-riser in front of Sed and banging his head to his bass riff.

"Am I the only one who thinks he looks like an idiot?" Aggie mumbled.

Apparently. The crowd ate up every minute, especially when Sed elbowed Jon out of his way, and Jon did a backwards somersault off the riser.

During Brian's guitar solo, Jon played his riff lying on his back at Brian's feet. Trey entered the solo midway through, to play the dueling segment of the insanely fast progression. He leaned against Brian's back, the synchrony between the guitarists intimate in its perfection. Trey placed his foot in the center of Jon's chest as he played. The three of them—a unit. Jace tore his gaze from the scene, the ache in his chest acute, and focused on the pair of drumsticks flailing behind the drum kit. He wasn't sure why it bothered him that Jon was having such a good time being part of the group. Jace had known all along that he had never fit in with Sinners. Not completely.

Jace started to get out of his chair, but Aggie leaned against him, her hands firmly on his shoulders. "He's too busy showing off to realize he sounds like crap."

He glanced at her. She smiled with that damnable pitying look in her eyes. He brushed her hands away and climbed to his feet.

The song ended, and Sed talked to the crowd. "How we doing tonight, Edmonton?"

The roar was deafening.

"We've got a special treat at the end of the show, so don't go anywhere." Sed glanced to the side of the stage where Jace stood. "As you might have heard, our bassist, Jace, has been a little under the weather. Some might remember Jon Mallory from our earlier days. He's filling in until Jace gets over a case of explosive diarrhea."

Jace's eyes widened. What?

Sed grinned like a shark and glanced offstage at Jace again.

"He needs to quit eating those expired burritos," Trey said into his microphone.

That is what they'd been telling the fans? Jace laughed and shook his head. God, these guys were too much.

"I've got a backstage pass for the first fan who offers up a can of industrial strength air freshener," Brian said into his microphone on the far side of the stage. "The ventilation on our tour bus sucks."

Jace crossed his arms over his chest, his grin broadening.

"Eh, we're just fuckin' with you," Sed said to the crowd. "Jace, come out here. There are rumors spreading that you're dead."

Jace glanced at Aggie, who was wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, and then headed across the stage. The crowd cheered as he approached center stage. Sed wrapped an arm around Jace's shoulders and spoke into his microphone. "He looks pretty good for a dead man, don't you think?" He paused while the crowd responded with excited screams and yells. "Say hello to the fans." Sed held the microphone to Jace's mouth.

His heart thudded, and heat flooded his face. "Hello to the fans."

Sed chuckled. "Do you think you can muster the strength to play something later in the show?"

"I think that can be arranged."

Jace was stunned by the crowd's enthusiasm.

"Did you really get shot, Jace?" an excessively loud fan yelled from behind the barrier fence in front of the stage.

Sed promptly spun Jace around and pulled his shirt up to reveal the large bandage on his right shoulder. "He got shot fuckin' twice, dude. Brutal, huh? He doesn't look it, but he's a tough little shit. If it were me, I'd be flat on my back." "Kinda like that time you took a whole week off after you burst a blood vessel in your throat?" Trey asked.

Sed scratched his head and grinned sheepishly. "Uh, yeah, just like that." Sed flattened his palm over the side of Jace's head and kissed him on the opposite temple. Jace was too stunned to respond. He'd seen Sed do that to Brian more than once. It was his mark of friendship, but why had he extended it to Jace?

Jace took a deep breath. Sed's attention was probably just a show for the fans. Jace didn't mean anything to him. He knew he didn't.

"Are we going to rub our noses in Jace's asshole all night, or are we going to play some music for these people?" Jon's annoyed voice came over the sound system.

"Go get some rest, buddy. We'll see you near the end of the show."

Jace lifted a hand at the crowd as he returned to the side stage area. Aggie hugged him as soon as he was within reach.

"They loved you out there," she said.

"Nah."

"You honestly don't see how people feel about you, do you?"

He met her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"There's so much love in your life, but you don't recognize it. You won't let it in. That's why you feel so lonely, baby. Don't you get it? It's not them. They care about you. It's you. You don't see it."

He scowled and watched the band play the next song while he contemplated Aggie's words. What did love look like anyway? What did it feel like? He'd thought he'd experienced it a few times. His parents. The first girl he'd ever fallen for. His band. And his more recent feelings for Aggie. Was any of it really love? Was all of it love in different forms? He didn't know. He had nothing to judge by. But he was lonely—always lonely. Even in a crowd. But not when Aggie was near.

He turned to look at her and found her dancing to the music. He grinned. "Having a good time?"

"Yeah, this song is great. I have to get a copy of your CD."

"I could probably get you one for free."

"Will you autograph it for me?"

"Maybe."

He watched her sensual movements as she danced with her arms extended over her head. She was definitely a professional dancer. She used her body like a piece of moving art. He wondered if she missed her job. Her home. Her life. Was her mother really that horrible? He supposed he wasn't the only one with family issues. And yes, his father had been cruel, but at least he'd known him. Aggie had never met her father.

Aggie shrieked in surprise when Jace wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap.

"You're distracting the roadies from their work," he said close to her ear.

She glanced around. "I don't think anyone is watching."

"Maybe I wanted an excuse to hold you."

Her smile melted the cold lump in his chest that he was starting to recognize as his heart. She wrapped both arms around his neck and hugged him.

"Are you worried about leaving your mother in charge of your house?" he asked.

"She's probably burned it to the ground by now. I try not to think about it. No sense in worrying myself sick over things I have no control over."

He really wished he could live life by her model. "True."

"And I have great insurance, so I can just build a new house."

"But we have great memories in that dungeon."

She slid her fingers into his hair and kissed him. "We can make some new memories in this chair."

"You do owe me a lap dance."

He hadn't expected her to take him seriously. The band had just begun to play their one and only ballad, "Good-bye Is Not Forever." It had a deep, sultry beat. He loved playing this song live. Jon didn't do it justice, but Jace was trying very hard to ignore every lost opportunity to enrich the bass line, add body to it, subtly support the guitars and the drums without drawing attention to the fill. Truth be told, Jace was trying very fucking hard to ignore Jon entirely. The lighting was always kept dim for this song, so the side of the stage was bathed in darkness. Jace wished he could see Aggie better as she used his body for her prop throughout her sensual dance. Her hands and body brushed over him as she moved around him, behind him, over him, on him. His eyes drifted closed, and he concentrated on the sensation. The woman. He knew he had to get his shit together, or she'd get tired of him shutting her out. He hadn't been afraid of being alone for a long time—not since he'd been a kid. But now? He couldn't imagine a day spent without Aggie. He didn't want to.

When she slid into his lap backwards, he wrapped both arms around her waist and held her close. She tried to get up, but he tightened his hold.

She hesitated briefly and then relaxed. He pressed his face against her shoulder and inhaled her scent.

"You okay?" she asked after a moment.

He knew he was trembling, but he couldn't stop. "Yeah," he whispered.

She covered his hand with hers and squeezed reassuringly.

"Why are you so good to me?" he asked. "All I do is push you away."

"You're not pushing me away now."

That was true. Even though he knew he should, he couldn't let go. And though her body was pressed against his from shoulder to shin, he wanted her closer. Physically. And emotionally. Did that mean he loved her? His heart rate picked up. "Are you going to leave me after you fix me?"

Why had he asked her that? He didn't want to know. He needed to hang on to the moment. Stop worrying about the past. Stop fretting over the future. That's what she gave him. She gave him now. That's all that should be important to him, but it wasn't.

"Why would I do that?"

"Sometimes I think I'm your current pet project, and as soon as it's over, we'll be over."

"That's hurtful, Jace."

Hurtful? His brow crinkled with confusion. "Why?"

"Because you think I have some ulterior motive. It's not enough for me to let you know I care. You question it. Cheapen it."

"I don't mean to. I just…" He took a deep breath.

"Just what?"

"I just don't want you to leave." After he said it, he felt so blatantly exposed, he wished he could take it back.

She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. "No chance. You are stuck with this crazy bitch whether you like it or not."

He laughed, the tension draining from his body, and squeezed her tightly. "I like it."

She relaxed against him and let him hold her while they watched the concert. Halfway through the set, Brian was left alone onstage to entertain the crowd with his guitar solos. The rest of the band filtered offstage and surrounded Jace's chair.

"Did you see that super-fine chick in the front row?" Jon said excitedly. "She couldn't take her eyes off me. I've got to get me some of that tonight."

"I'm sure she was looking at Sed," Trey said, lifting the neck strap of his guitar over his head and handing the instrument to a roadie. He chugged half a beer and chased it with a bottle of water.

"Yeah, she was looking at me, Jon-boy," Sed said, chomping on red licorice to keep his vocal cords lubricated, "but I'm on the wagon. No pussy for me until we get back to LA."

"Five weeks with no pussy?" Jon burst out laughing. "You? Sure, Sed. That's possible."

Sed crossed his arms over his chest resolutely. "That's right. Three more weeks. It's already been almost two."

Trey laughed and pounded Sed on the back. "Jessica will never walk again." Trey sat on Aggie's lap, squirming to crush her into Jace. "This chair is so fuckin' lumpy."

Aggie chuckled and wrapped her arms around Trey's waist.

He glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, sorry, Aggie. Didn't see you there." Trey leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankle.

Crushed beneath them, Jace couldn't draw a decent breath. "Damn, Aggie, have you gained weight?" His quip earned him an elbow in the ribs.

Eric came to stand with the group. He pulled his sweat-drenched shirt off and tossed it in Trey's face.

Trey swatted it to the floor. "For that, I suggest you don't go to sleep tonight, Sticks."

Eric took a long drink of water and then upended the bottle over his head. He shook his head like a wet dog, sending droplets of water and sweat flying in all directions. "What? You gonna hurt me?"

"You should be so lucky," Trey said.

Eric continued his public shower and then patted himself dry with a hand towel before donning a clean shirt.

Trey was now watching Brian onstage. "He gets better and better, doesn't he?"

"Dude, my legs are falling asleep," Jace complained, trying to dislodge Trey from the top of the pile by squirming. "Get off."

"You hear something, Aggie?" Trey asked.

"Nope. I'm too fat to hear anything."

Jace's heart stuttered. Had he hurt her feelings? She was perfect. How could she possibly think he had been serious when he'd asked her if she'd gained weight? He slid his hands between Trey's back and Aggie's stomach, pulling her securely against his chest.

"You're not fat," he whispered into her ear. "I meant Trey was heavy."

"That's not what you said."

"But that's what I meant. It was a joke."

"Since when do you joke around, Jace?"

Since I started to believe that I can be myself when I'm with you. But he couldn't say that. Not with Trey sitting right there. His jaw clenched as emotion threatened to bubble to the surface. "Whatever."

"If you two are gonna argue, I'm going to join Brian onstage." Trey removed himself from Aggie's lap and settled his red electric guitar in place. He was crossing the stage before Jace could take a decent breath.

Aggie didn't try to remove herself from his lap, but her body was stiff and unyielding.

He kissed her shoulder, not knowing what to do to make her forgive him for his offhand comment. He thought she was perfect. And even if she were fat, he wouldn't have cared. He would love her no matter what she looked like. Should he tell her things like that? That he loved her no matter what? His throat closed off. He was panting again. He couldn't get a grip on himself. Not since he'd told her about his mother. Told her things he'd never told anyone. Things he'd never admitted even to himself.

"I love you," he whispered.

He figured he'd said it too quietly for her to hear over Brian and Trey's guitar duel, but her body relaxed into his, and she squeezed his hand. "I'm glad," she said.

They watched in silence as the band returned to the stage and continued the concert. She must have sensed his turmoil at expressing his feelings aloud. She was supportive, but didn't push him. He knew if she had, he would have slipped back into denial. He'd never figure out how she could understand him so completely. No one understood him. He didn't even understand himself. He gently rubbed his left hand over her forearm, needing the tactile sensation of her bare flesh against his fingertips.

When it came time for the band's encore, Aggie climbed off his lap and offered him a hand. He looked at her and found her cheeks wet with tears. His heart stumbled over several beats.

He climbed to his feet and took her shoulder in his free hand. "Aggie. What's wrong?"

She shook her head, closed her eyes, and swallowed. "I'm glad." She hugged him unexpectedly, rubbing her tear-damp face against his neck.

"I'm glad," she whispered.

A roadie, Jake, poked Jace in the back. "You'd better get ready to go onstage."

Jace released Aggie, and his favorite, solid black bass was pushed into his good hand. He settled the familiar strap around his shoulder, wincing slightly when the full weight of the instrument settled over his trapezius muscle and collarbone. Maybe he had overestimated his ability to play. He slid his arm out of its sling and tested the mobility of his fingers. A bit stiff, but he could play. He was sure.

The crowd was chanting. "Sinners, Sinners, Sinners." The arena's overhead lights were still off, so even though the stage was dark and empty, they knew the show wasn't over.

"Break a leg," Jon growled into Jace's ear as he handed him his earpiece. "Or better yet, your fucking neck."

With no time to tell Jon to fuck off, Jace stuck the earpiece in his ear so he could hear the music and directions given by Dave. He then trotted after Brian and Trey onto the stage. There was a soft glow of blue lights at the level of their feet, and when their shadows crossed the stage, the crowd cheered. Jace's heart rate kicked up a few notches. He really hoped he didn't screw up.

Eric tapped a cymbal, starting the intro to "Twisted," and Jace entered with his bass progression. There was stiffness in his knuckles, and the pain in his right shoulder was agonizingly sharp as he strummed, but the thick strings between his fingertips and the solid fret board were comforting. He'd missed this. Standing next to the drums, he closed his eyes and let the rhythm carry him, head-banging in time with Eric's bass drum.

Sed entered the song with a long note on his violin. The lights flashed so bright Jace could see them through his closed eyelids. A heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders and urged him forward. Sed apparently didn't want him hiding by the drum kit this evening. Jace hoped he didn't expect him to writhe around on the floor the way Jon did. Sed grinned between lyrics and gave him a little wink. He nodded toward the crowd.

Yeah, Jace got it. He should play this up. Make his brief stage appearance special for the fans. He wandered out of Sed's hold toward the front of the stage. He drew to a halt at its edge and leaned forward to play the steady bass riff at shin level. He head-banged while he played, adrenaline flowing through his body, his shoulder protesting each movement of his fingers. Brian moved to stand beside him, placing one foot on a speaker at the front of the stage while he played the insanely fast guitar riff. Jace stood upright and leaned against the guitarist. Brian beamed and pressed his arm firmly against Jace's shoulder. Sed paced the front of the stage now, lifting his hand up and down to get the crowd to participate, and thrusting the microphone toward the audience during the chorus so they'd sing along. They especially loved to sing the part that went, "Twisted, crazy hell-born bitch." Probably because that was the only part they could easily understand. Sed screamed the rest of the chorus in his signature baritone growl, which was fucking awesome.

Trey moved to Brian's other side during his guitar solo. Jace had to concentrate on the sound of Eric's drums to continue his low, repetitive bass riff. It was admittedly hard to maintain with Brian wailing away beside him. The man was fucking gifted on that guitar. Jace wanted to stand there and gawk at him in awe. The fans screamed their appreciation of Brian's skill when he lifted his guitar over his head to carry the final note of his solo.

Jace wasn't sure what possessed him to add a mini bass solo of his own right before the final chorus. Trey and Brian glanced at him in surprise. The crowd cheered unexpectedly. Jace felt the heat of embarrassment rise up his neck and face until his ears were burning. He returned to the repetitive bass riff that carried the undertones of the entire song. Sed punched him in his good shoulder affectionately.

When the song ended, the crowd cheered. Sed got carried away and lifted Jace off the floor with one heavily muscled arm. "Jace Seymour, ladies and gentlemen."

And they cheered. "Jace, Jace, Jace."

For him.

Jace smiled until his cheeks hurt. He couldn't help himself. Sed set him on his feet. Jace moved to the front of the stage and tossed his pick into the audience. The crowd sank in a circle in search of the prize. Jace lifted his bass off his shoulder and carried it offstage with his good arm. He was actually looking forward to getting his right arm back in its sling. As much as he hated the damned thing, it did take the weight off his shoulder and made it feel a thousand times better.

"Man, that was fuckin' awesome," Trey said. "When did you write that bass solo? And why have you been holding out on us?"

Jace hadn't exactly written that solo. It had come to him spontaneously onstage. Before he could explain that to Trey, a curvy, warm body pressed against him.

"My God, baby, that was amazing," Aggie said. She captured his face between her hands and kissed him passionately.

Someone took his bass out of his hand, and Jace wrapped his arms around her—both arms. He returned her kiss, his lips sucking on hers gently. Someone squeezed his shoulder, and he drew away from Aggie to find Eric grinning at him.

"Great show, man."

Jace found himself smiling again. "Thanks. You too."

Sed hugged Aggie and Jace in one giant embrace. "The crowd loved that. You have to play the encore every night until you're better, dude. And hurry up and get better, will you? The show isn't the same without you."

Did he really mean that?

Jace glanced around. "Where's Jon?"

"He stalked off sulking right after you started playing," Aggie said. "Jealous of your superior skill, I'm sure." She kissed him again. "God, I want you. You're so sexy when you play onstage." She released a breathless gasp as she gazed at him.

"I am?"

"Oh yeah." She offered him her come-hither smile. Was his sudden urge to shove hundred-dollar bills down her shirt wrong? Probably.

Sed released the pair. "Take it easy there, stud. You need to concentrate on healing."

Aggie's hand cupped his crotch over his jeans. His cock stirred against her palm. "How about some sexual healing?"

"I'm game."

He eased his arm back into its sling and let her lead him down the steps by his belt buckle.

***

Jace had kept Aggie suspended at the brink of orgasm for a good thirty minutes now. She was moaning and writhing in tormented bliss, but she hadn't asked him to stop once. His cock was so hard, his balls so full, he almost wanted her to beg so he could fuck her already, but until she broke, he'd continue to pleasure her. He pulled the clothespin from her nipple. The device plucked her nipple hard as it came free.

"Ah," she gasped.

Her rosy nipple flushed red from overstimulation. Jace lowered his head to soothe the tender bud with his lips. The instant he touched her there, she shuddered, the chains that suspended her arms above her head rattling with her jerky motions. While he kissed her nipple with the slightest suction he could manage, he lowered the clothespin, careful not to touch her sweat-slick thighs and alert her to what he was going to do, and clamped it on her clit.

"Oh," she moaned, her hips undulating in torment.

He flicked the clothespin, which tugged on her clit.

"Jace!"

Come on, baby, beg for it.

But she didn't. She took deep shaky breaths, trying to curb her excitement as she had been for the past two hours. He kept flicking that damn clothespin and kissing that tender nipple until her excitement built to the pinnacle. As soon as her body shook with the first ripple of release, he pulled the clothespin off her clit and moved away, leaving her there unfulfilled.

Surely now she would beg him. How many times did he have to make her almost come before she couldn't stand it anymore? She whimpered. Her entire body—slick with sweat and sticky with syrup—trembled.

Jace was running out of ways to excite her. He'd used every object in his suitcase, in every way he'd imagined, yet she still hadn't submitted to the pleasure. She let him give her more. He stared at her, bound and blindfolded, and wondered how to proceed. He was out of ideas. Jace reached for a wet cloth and rubbed it over her anus. He trickled chocolate syrup over the area and lowered his head to lick it off. He pressed the tip of his tongue inside her.

"Mmmm," she murmured, spreading her legs farther, so he could press his tongue deeper with less resistance. He sucked and moved his tongue in chaotic circles. Gasping, she wriggled her hips in excitement.

"I like that."

He slid two fingers into her sopping wet cunt and pleasured her ass until her internal muscles convulsed. He moved away again, watching her writhe with unfulfilled desire, tears dripping from beneath her blindfold, fluids dripping down the inside of her thighs.

He couldn't stand it anymore. Maybe she could go all night without coming, but he couldn't. He climbed from the bed and grabbed some oil from the nightstand. He poured it into his hand and rubbed it over his cock. His head fell back, and he gasped brokenly.

"Jace?"

He should make her watch this. He climbed in front of her, kneeling on the bed, and pushed her blindfold up. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light. Her gaze eventually lowered to his straining cock. She gasped, her hips thrusting forward involuntarily. So she did want it. He wasn't going to give it to her until she begged.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore her little pained whimpers as he stroked his cock with both hands.

"Jace!"

He stroked himself faster. As soon as he came, he could pleasure her again. He'd start his routine from the beginning.

"Don't you dare fucking come before me, you asshole!" Aggie yelled, jerking on her restraints.

He opened his eyes to look at her. Her attention was riveted to his cock, her hips undulating with his motion as he pumped it vigorously.

"You want this?" he murmured. "No," she growled.

He stroked himself slowly, in the rhythm he knew she responded to best. Her hips churned. "No?" He shrugged, closed his eyes, and massaged the head of his cock with his palm. He didn't really want to come this way anymore, but he'd keep pleasuring himself to drive her crazy. He absolutely loved her response.

He moved his free hand to his nuts. Massaged those too. "My balls are so heavy, I'll probably spurt like ten minutes once I get going."

Aggie sobbed.

"Where do you want it? On your mound?"

She shook her head vigorously.

"On your tits?"

"N-no."

"Your face? Tell me, Aggie. Where do you want it?"

"Inside. Put it inside. Please, please." She shook her head, hair flying in all directions "Fuck me, Jace. I can't take it anymore."

Jace breathed a sigh of relief. "Finally," he gasped and released her ankles from the cuffs keeping her in a kneeling position on the bed.

"What do you mean, finally ? I've been trying to give you what you want for hours."

"What do you think I want, Aggie?"

"A woman who can take all your pleasure torture until you're finished."

Jace grinned. "Not even close, sweetheart."

"What?"

"I just want to fuck you when you want it. For you to tell me when you need it."

"I needed it two hours ago."

"Then why didn't you say so?"

He moved around her and knelt. Slowly, he slid his hands up her arms toward her restraints, thinking he'd like to tease her just a little longer. Gritting her teeth, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him against her. His cock slid against her hot slit. He shuddered.

"Put it in, damn you," she growled.

He moved a hand between their bodies and redirected his cock into her body. Her back arched, and she sank over him. They cried out together. She shifted her feet to the bed behind his hips and pushed, drawing him out of her hot, slick pussy before driving her body against him and taking him deep again. He inched forward to give her more play in her chains and rotated his hips as she controlled the joining of their bodies.

"Oh, oh, oh," she cried. Her body convulsed in orgasm. Her pussy clenched over him, trying to coax him to follow her in bliss. He fought it, wanting to give her as many orgasms as he'd withheld earlier. It would probably take him all night. He hoped she'd had Wheaties for breakfast.

Aggie collapsed against his chest, breathing hard.

"Ah, God, I needed that," she panted.

He grinned and unfastened her restraints. When her arms came free, she wrapped them around him and then rotated her hips, grinding his hard cock inside her. He tipped her onto her back and followed her onto the bed, driving himself deep. He then pulled out halfway and rocked into her repetitively, relentlessly, until they were both gasping and she was screaming, "Deeper, deeper."

He thrust into her once and then backed off, pumping into her fast, but shallow. One deep thrust and then fast and shallow again. She clung to his shoulders as another orgasm gripped her. He pulled out until she stopped shuddering and then slipped inside her again.

"Ahhhhh," she cried as a second orgasm converged with the first.

He thrust into her slowly then, concentrating on not letting himself come—tried to think of anything but her hot, slick body against him, around him. No use. Oh dear God, she felt good. He thrust faster. Pushed deeper. Gave himself over to the pleasure. It built and built. Consumed him until he had no choice but to let go. Jace shuddered uncontrollably as his seed pumped into her. Almost unbearable in intensity, his climax stole his breath. His lungs stung, protesting his lack of air, but the pulsations of pleasure in his groin made it impossible to concentrate on anything as unnecessary as breathing. He drew back slightly and lunged forward again, still shuddering with release. Aggie held him, with her arms and legs and pussy, as he came. She murmured sweet words of love against his throat. When his body collapsed against hers, she drew him closer still. He sucked air desperately, trying to recover.

"Are you too tired to continue?" she asked several minutes later.

He chuckled. Apparently, he had come a lot harder than she had. He'd help her with that as soon as he could move again. "Not yet."

Aggie wriggled out from beneath him and urged him onto his back. When she reached for the piece of satin on the bed, the one he'd used to drive her to distraction earlier, he wasn't sure how long he'd last before begging her to fuck him. He was more than ready to find out.

***

Jace knew he was dreaming and didn't want to wake up. He liked this part of the dream. He wished it could go on forever. He'd gladly give up the good though, if he could avoid reliving what he knew would come at the end.

Young, dumb, and full of cum, Jason ducked into the passenger side of the yellow Ford Mustang waiting in the parking lot.

"Did you get it?" Kara asked, her intense brown eyes wide with excitement.

Jason opened his leather jacket and showed her the bottle of whiskey tucked inside. "Let's get out of here. I think the clerk was suspicious."

Kara slammed the gearshift into reverse and backed out, before shifting into first and speeding through the parking lot with her tires squealing. So much for being inconspicuous and making a quiet getaway.

"Open it, Jason. I need a drink."

He pulled the bottle out of his jacket and unscrewed the lid. He passed it to her, and she took a long swallow, blowing through a stop sign without a moment's hesitation. Kara Sinclair was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl Jason had ever seen. She was already making a name for herself in the world of fashion modeling. But that wasn't what had him under her spell. She was wild. Reckless. He'd pursued her because she was Brian Sinclair's little sister, and he'd originally hoped she'd introduce him to Brian's band, Sinners. Five minutes with her had convinced him none of that mattered. He was in love with her.

Kara passed him the bottle of whiskey, and he took a drink. It burned his throat and made his eyes water. Jason winced, wishing he'd stolen something of higher quality. She deserved the best, and he had absolutely nothing to offer. She pulled into the long driveway of a Beverly Hills estate. Why had she brought him to her house?

She parked in the driveway and took the whiskey from him, taking a long draw from the bottle. "I like this," she said. "Thanks for getting it."

"It was nothing."

"Did you really just walk in there and steal it right in front of the clerk?"

Jason shrugged. "I guess."

"You're so bad." She leaned closer, and he caught the sweet fragrance of her expensive perfume mingling with alcohol. The bangle bracelets on her wrists rattled. "I like bad boys."

He could be bad. As bad as she wanted him to be.

Her breath tickled his ear. "Do you want to kiss me?"

His heart stuttered and then raced. She leaned away to stare into his eyes, and the next thing he knew, they were kissing. Her soft lips tasted of whiskey. His cock was instantly hard, straining against his jeans. He could think of nothing but her. Possessing her. He lifted a trembling hand to her breast. He wasn't sure what he'd expected a boob to feel like. Not this soft. It yielded to his touch as he squeezed.

Her brutal slap to his cheek caused him to jerk his hand away.

"I didn't say you could feel me up," she said, glaring at him in the dim interior of the car.

He didn't know how to respond. Her slap had only managed to excite him more, and he wasn't sure how to deal with that unexpected reality, so he kissed her again. He was careful to keep his hands to himself as he suckled her lips. Licked them. Nibbled them. Caressed her lips with his.

"Jason," she gasped into his mouth.

Kara launched herself across the car so that she was straddling his lap, facing him. She rubbed her crotch against his, mewing in the back of her throat. He could feel the heat between her legs against his cock. Only layers of fabric separated him from sinking into her body. What would it feel like to bury himself in her moist heat? In her… pussy. Oh God, he was going to explode.

"Touch it," he murmured against her lips. That's all he needed—her fingers against his bare skin. He could make do with that. "Please, Kara."

"Tomorrow," she whispered. "I think I want my first time to be with you. If I show up at your house tomorrow night, you'll know for sure."

Kara Sinclair was a virgin? He wasn't sure why that surprised him. Maybe because she seemed so worldly. He'd expected her to be far more experienced than he was. He would undoubtedly disappoint her with his lack of skill in the sack. It didn't stop him from wanting to try it, however.

Kara slid off his lap into the driver's seat, pressing her fingers to her cheeks.

"Get out," she said.

Was she mad at him now? "Kara?"

"I need to think about this. So you need to go now. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe not."

He walked over seven miles to get home. He had a huge case of blue balls, but the agonizing ache was bittersweet. Would Kara show up tomorrow? He was kind of glad she'd put him off for at least a day. He had plans to make. He wanted to satisfy her. Make this special for her. Let it be more about her and less about him.

His father laid into him the moment he stepped through the door. "Where the fuck have you been, you worthless piece of shit?"

"None of your business."

Dad grabbed him by the front his jacket. "You smell like whiskey. Have you been drinking?"

"Maybe."

Dad cuffed him on the ear. Jason cried out in pain, covering his ear with one hand. He'd become accustomed to the belt years ago, so his father had started using his fists, and when that no longer made Jason beg for mercy, he'd started boxing him on the ears. Jason never got used to that pain. "Your mother is looking down on you from heaven, weeping over what you've become. Weeping that her son is no better than a delinquent, a criminal, a useless, no good pile of shit. You'll never amount to anything."

Jason sneered, pretending the words didn't affect him, but even though he'd heard them a thousand times, they still stung, and he believed them a little more every day. "Are you finished?"

Dad boxed him on the other ear. "Get your ass up to your room, boy. You're grounded."

Jason had both ears covered with his hands now. "For what?"

"Drinking. And whatever other trouble you got yourself into tonight."

"Get your hands off me." Jason shoved his father, who stumbled back against the wall. "I'm leaving, and I'm never coming back."

He turned to go, wondering where he could stay, wishing he could get his bass guitar out of his room, but knowing he had to get out immediately.

Jason should have learned by now that his father wasn't afraid to beat him unconscious to make him obey. He wasn't sure why he never fought back. He probably could have taken the old man if he really wanted to. But somewhere inside, he knew he deserved this. This pain.

When Jason regained consciousness on his bedroom floor, it was mid-afternoon the next day. His door had been secured with a padlock from the outside, and his windows had been intentionally painted shut long ago. There was no escaping this room.

He went into the tiny connecting half-bathroom and washed up in the sink. A dark bruise marred his cheek, but it was the only visible evidence. The rest of his injuries were under his clothes. He had a hard time taking a deep breath and figured he had another fractured rib. He fingered his rib cage, looking for evidence of protruding bones. At least, he had no complete breaks this time. Nothing bleeding. He was sore, but he'd live.

As expected, his father had confiscated his bass guitar again. With nothing to do, Jason sat on his bed, leaned against the wall, and dreamed of better days. Days of freedom and playing his bass guitar onstage with his favorite band, Sinners. Nights of making love to the most beautiful girl on the planet, Kara Sinclair.

He'd spaced out like that for hours. When he couldn't stand the ache in his heart anymore, he cranked up his space heater until the coils glowed bright orange. He'd removed the protective grate months ago. As he'd done numerous times, he pressed his right wrist against the hot coils until his flesh seared and blistered. Eventually, the pain became too much, and he pulled away from the punishing heat. Breathing hard, he tightened his leather wrist cuff around the blistered flesh to keep the pain constant. He needed something to hurt him more than the hurt inside. The hurt he couldn't dig out, no matter how hard he tried.

Someone knocked on his door, and he kicked the heater against the wall in case his father came in and saw what he was doing. He didn't want him to know. Didn't want anyone to know that he hurt himself when no one was looking.

"You want dinner?" his dad called.

"No."

"Suit yourself." His footsteps faded down the hall.

Sometime later, Jason heard a car with a big engine pull to a stop outside his house. He went to the window to gaze into the darkness. Across the street, Kara had parked. She honked her horn and sat there, waiting for him with the engine idling. She would think he stood her up. That he didn't want her.

He fought with the window for several minutes, knowing it wouldn't budge. Desperate for freedom, he grabbed a boxing trophy from his bookshelf and smashed it against the corner of the window. The sound of breaking glass was louder than he expected it would be. The pieces rained down on the porch roof. He paused, waiting for his father to come charging up the stairs to permanently put him out of his misery, but he never came. He must've fallen asleep in front of the TV.

Jason threw his blanket over the broken glass in the window frame. His stepped on his space heater to help himself over the windowsill. He dropped onto the roof, paused to make sure his father wasn't coming to kill him, and then shimmied down the porch post and into the bushes. He fled across the yard and raced toward Kara's car. Before he could climb inside, she sped off.

Jason watched her retreating lights—heart simultaneously thudding and sinking.

Her taillights brightened, and then her reverse lights came on. She almost ran him over as she backed up the car at a high rate of speed. She stopped, not looking at him. She stared out the windshield and wiggled in her seat. Jace climbed in beside her, and she sped off into the night.

"I thought you weren't coming," she said breathlessly. "At first, I was mad, and then a little relieved. When I saw you climbing down from your porch, I got scared. Sorry I took off."

"It's okay. If you're not ready…"

"I am ready," she said. She reached across the car and squeezed his hand. Her hand was damp, but he didn't mind. He was pretty nervous himself. "My parents will be at a party until late. I thought… I thought we could… in the pool house."

He lifted her hand to his lips. "Whatever makes you happy."

She smiled, looking timid and shy. He'd never seen her this way. He liked this side of her. Maybe even more than the reckless and wild side. He wasn't sure.

When they reached her house, she took his hand and led him to the pool house. His heart thudded with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. She opened the door, turned on a light, and they entered an open seating area flanked by two doors, one labeled ladies, the other labeled gents. There was a sofa and two chairs in the common area, but no bed. Not exactly what Jason had envisioned for their first encounter, but he could improvise.

She looked at him, and her eyes widened. "What happened to your face?" She touched the bruise on his cheekbone with her fingertips. "Did you get into a fight?"

"Something like that."

She smiled, her nose wrinkling as she gazed into his eyes happily. "Oh, Jason, you are so bad. Kiss me."

He drew her against his body, and she wrapped her arms around him. Pain snaked through his bruised body as she clung to him. He gasped slightly, and when she looked at him in question, he kissed her. She stiffened in his embrace, so he kept on kissing her until her body finally relaxed.

"Can I touch you?" he asked. He wouldn't really mind if she slapped him again, but he didn't want to push her if she wasn't ready.

"You can touch me anywhere you want."

His breath caught. "Anywhere?"

"Anywhere."

"And can I kiss you anywhere?"

She shuddered against him. "Yes."

He cupped her cheek and shifted his lips to her jaw, her throat, her ear. She sighed, submitting to his questing mouth. Her fingertips dug into his chest, finding bruises he didn't know he had, sending him to a strange place between pain and pleasure. When his hand found her breast, she inhaled and then drew away. She surprised him by tugging her T-shirt over her head and then unfastening her bra at her back. She looked at him. He could see her pulse thrumming fast and hard in her neck. Blushing, she let the undergarment fall free, leaving her perfect breasts naked to his eager gaze. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He traced one pink nipple with his fingertip, fascinated by the response of her flesh as her nipple grew harder with each stroke.

"Jason."

He lowered his head and flicked his tongue over the pebbled peak. She shuddered and buried her fingers in his hair. She managed to find a bruise on the back of his head, but the pain she unknowingly inflicted fueled his fire.

He eased her toward the sofa. When she tried to remove his shirt, he pulled away and shook his head. "This is for you," he said, but in reality, he didn't want her to see his body and the ugly black and blue marks.

"Jason?" she whispered uncertainly.

"It's okay. I want to make you feel good." He didn't care about his own enjoyment. He wanted to show her how strongly he felt about her by pleasuring her body. He'd have to show her, because he knew he couldn't say it. He caressed, kissed, and suckled every inch of her silky skin above the waist, paying close attention to her reactions, seeking the spots that brought her the most pleasure. When she tugged at his shirt, he moved out of her reach and removed her jeans and sandals. Her body grew stiff with anxiety, so he left her panties in place, giving her time to grow accustomed to his touch. He found kissing the insides of her legs made her moan and writhe in delight. He caressed the backs of her knees while he suckled the flesh of her inner thighs.

"Jason, please."

Please what? Was she ready for him to remove her panties? He covered her mound with his mouth and blew a hot breath through her last scrap of clothing.

"Ah God," she gasped and grabbed his right wrist, squeezing the studded bracelet in a solid grip.

He almost lost control when the pain she inflicted on his burns registered. He grabbed her wrist and forced her to release her hold on him before he made a mess in his jeans.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes. I'm so hot and achy I can't stand it."

Her black lace panties joined the rest of her clothes on the floor. Jason knew the names of her female parts, knew what they did, how they looked from pictures. Nothing had prepared him for her scent, however. He inhaled deeply, his eyes drifting closed. His cock protested its neglect, his balls ached. He wanted to bury his face between her legs and breathe her essence, but he didn't think she was quite ready for that, so he stroked the slick, swollen flesh of her inner folds with two fingertips. The texture of her exposed flesh fascinated him. It was smoother than regular skin. Slippery. Hot. He watched her swell and redden and moisten beneath his persistent touch. Her hips rocked, and she called to him in her excitement. He sought her clit, having heard that a woman's greatest pleasure was centered in that tiny spot. He found it hard to believe until his fingers brushed the small, swollen bit of flesh, and Kara cried out in delight. Her back arched off the sofa.

"Oh yes, Jason. Right there."

He hesitated and then lowered his head to suck her clit into his mouth. She screamed, startling him as her body convulsed unexpectedly. Had she had an orgasm? He wasn't sure, but he loved knowing that he was drawing this response from her body. That he could give her pleasure. That he could do this for her. He didn't have money or his own car or anything else to offer, but he could bring her pleasure. He flicked her clit with his tongue while he sucked it. Her motions grew exaggerated, needy. His fingers stroked the slick, hot flesh of her inner lips.

"Oh God. Put your fingers inside me, Jason. Please don't tease me anymore."

She thought he was teasing her? He shifted his hand and slowly inserted one finger into her tight, little pussy. She was so small inside. How would her body accommodate his cock? He wasn't one of those guys teased in the locker room. He needed to open her so he would fit inside. He rotated his finger in a wide circle, stretching her until he could slide a second finger inside.

Her breath caught. "Put it in, Jason. I'm ready. Put it in now."

It? He went still and leaned back slightly, releasing her clit from his mouth.

He swallowed hard. "Now?"

"Yes, yes. Now."

His trembling hand moved to his fly. He wanted her. Wanted to shove his throbbing cock into that hot pussy, but what if he embarrassed himself? What if he came as soon as he put it in?

"Hurry, Jason."

He released his fly, and his cock sprang free. He was overexcited, and he knew it. She fumbled under the sofa pillow and pulled out a condom.

"Put this on first."

He pushed his pants down his thighs and fumbled to get the condom in place.

"Oh God, you're huge," Kara said as she watched him. "Go slow, okay?"

"Okay."

As soon as he had the condom in place, he climbed on top of her and settled between her thighs. He used his hand to guide the head of his cock into her body.

Oh God, it felt so good. He sank deeper. Her body struggled to accept him. He pushed forward. She sucked a pained breath through her teeth.

"Wait," she gasped. "It hurts."

How could it hurt? He'd never felt anything so wonderful in his life. He pushed deeper. Her flesh resisted him.

"Ow."

He was trying to go as slow as he could, but her snug little cunt was pure bliss, and all rational thought left his mind. Unable to control the urge to bury himself deeply, he surged forward. Her flesh tore, finally yielding to his, and she cried out in pain. He gave her no time to recover, but pulled back and thrust into her body again.

"Not so hard," she complained.

He couldn't think, could only feel. His urgency building, he fucked her harder. Harder. Faster. Oh God, harder. Take it, Kara. He scarcely comprehended that she was crying. He just needed to possess her. That's all. He didn't mean to cause her pain. She hit him in the shoulder with her fist.

"Jason, you're hurting me. Stop doing it so hard."

But her second blow only excited him more. "Hit me again, Kara. Hurt me."

"What?"

"Hit me." He looked down, finding her cheeks damp with tears. He pounded his cock into her body. "Please, Kara, hurt me. I need… pain."

By the look on her face, he knew he'd said something wrong, something weird, but he wanted her to hurt him, needed her to do it. This much pleasure couldn't be right. He wasn't used to pleasure. Pain he understood.

"You sick bastard, get off me."

Her elbow hit him in his fractured ribs, and his body convulsed as he came unexpectedly. He stopped moving, his body pumping his seed into her, pooling at the tip of the condom. He reveled in the pain radiating through his side almost as much as the pleasure spasms gripping the base of his cock.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, struggling beneath him to get him off her body.

"I don't know." He pressed his forehead into her shoulder, fighting tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay. Get off me!"

He pulled out, and she squirmed out from under him, landing on the floor.

"Kara."

"Don't come near me," she said, grabbing her clothes and heading for the door.

He saw blood on her thighs, on his cock, on the sofa cushion. It made him nauseous. Oh God, he really had hurt her. "Wait, don't leave. I'm sorry."

"There's something wrong with you. Just stay away from me. I never want to see you again." She yanked the door open and darted out of the pool house.

His heart twisted. "But I love you."

He didn't know if she heard him say it. The whole building shuddered as she slammed the door.

"Don't leave." But she was already gone.

The trip home was the longest seven miles he'd ever walked. He wished he could take it all back. Well, not all of it. Just from the moment he'd started taking his pleasure. That's when everything had taken a turn for the worse. And now Kara hated him, never wanted to see him again. The pain his father inflicted didn't come close to this crippling agony in his heart. He squeezed his right wrist beneath his cuff bracelet, needing the pain to take another step toward home.

As he drew closer to his house and his sure-to-be-livid father, Jason noticed something bright on the horizon. Smoke billowed into the night sky. Fire. A fire truck blared as it rounded a corner and headed up the street. An ambulance followed a moment later.

It looked like the fire was near Jason's house. The closer he got to its source, the faster his heart thudded, until he couldn't deny the reality. The fire was at his house. He ran the last two blocks. Firefighters were racing down the street, hooking up a fire hose to the nearest hydrant. Neighbors were coming out of their houses in their pajamas, holding each other, watching the destruction in awe. Jason stared at his burning house in disbelief, walking into the yard in a trance. Huge flames were licking from his broken bedroom window. He could hear his father in the house screaming his name. "Jason! Son, where are you?"

"Dad, I'm here!"

There was a loud splintering sound, and the roof over his room collapsed in a spray of sparks. The first jets of water from the hoses blasted into the flames, hissing as water evaporated into steam.

"Dad!"

He darted toward the house and made it as far as the porch before someone grabbed him around the waist. "Let me go," he demanded, struggling with all his strength. "He's still inside. My dad. I think he's upstairs. I heard him calling for me. But…"

A pair of firemen busted down the front door. He could hear them yelling to each other inside the house. "Give me a hand. Someone's trapped under this beam." Eventually one of them emerged, carrying a limp body over one shoulder. "Medic! We need a medic over here."

The charred body he laid on the ground was Jason's father. "My son," he murmured, clinging to the firefighter's boot. Coherent sentences were garbled with indistinguishable syllables. "Save my son. I locked him in his room. I couldn't get to the door. The roof collapsed." He coughed, his eyes glazed with pain. "He's still in there." If it weren't for his familiar voice, Jason wouldn't have recognized him. His skin was so severely burned he was unidentifiable.

Jason stood over him, trembling. "I'm here, Dad. I'm okay."

"Chopper's on its way," a paramedic said. "We'll get him to the burn center as soon as we can."

"How did you get out?" his father murmured. "Did you set the house on fire? Did you? I wouldn't put it past you, you little punk. You did, didn't you? To get back at me for grounding you. For tossing your stupid bass guitar in the garbage."

Jason shook his head. "No. I didn't do it." He glanced up at his room. There was no doubt that the fire had started there. It's where the damage was centered. As Jason watched, the tattered remains of a blanket fluttered from the porch roof as a blast of water unsettled it from its perch. He recognized his bedspread, half burnt. The bedspread he'd placed over the broken glass in the windowsill. And his space heater. The heater he'd forgotten to turn off after he'd burnt his wrist.

Then he realized. He had started the fire.

Jason gripped his right wrist with punishing strength, pressing the leather bracelet into his blistered flesh until his vision tunneled.

They let Jason ride in the helicopter when they learned he had no other way to the hospital. No other family. No one who cared about him. Jason couldn't stand their looks of pity. Or his father's nonsensical jabbering. Dad was delirious with pain and kept repeating, "It's all your fault. All your fault."

Jason huddled in the corner, his hands over his ears, no longer a young man of fifteen, but a scared little boy. With nothing. No one. He was alone. Alone. With no one to hurt him. Hurt him when he needed it.

They'd taken his father into the treatment center as soon as the helicopter landed. Asked Jason if he wanted to be with him. Warned him that his dad probably wouldn't make it through the night. "You might want to say good-bye to him, son," some doctor had said at one point.

But he hadn't. He'd been too afraid, just like with his mother. His last memory of his father was lidless eyes staring at him blankly as they wheeled the gurney into the treatment center.

Jace started awake, his heart thudding in his chest, the image of his hideously burned father circulating in his mind. The room was entirely dark, but he could hear her breathing, feel the gentle motion of the bus. Both brought him comfort. He loved being on the road. And he loved her. His Aggie.

His hand sought Aggie's under the covers. He clung to her fingers, feeling stupid for needing her so much, for seeking her support, while she slept unaware of his turmoil. It wasn't as if she could do anything about the ghosts that haunted him. About the pain of his father's memory. The guilt Jace felt. The fear.

Or maybe she could. She'd helped him deal with the pain of losing his mother. Her memory was still in the shadows, but no longer threatening. He'd found solace. Aggie had given that to him. She managed to give him everything he needed. Even things he hadn't realized were important. When the sun came up, he watched her sleep, wondering how he'd survive if he lost her too.

***

Aggie opened her eyes to find Jace staring at her. She smiled, stretching lethargically.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she murmured. "What are you doing awake so early?"

"I'm ready," he said.

She grinned, wrapped an arm around his neck, and shifted closer to his warm body. "I figured after last night you'd be satisfied for a couple days at least."

"That's not what I meant," he said seriously. "I'm ready to tell you."

Her heart skipped a beat, and her smile faded. "About your dad?"

"Yeah."

She wasn't sure if she wanted him to tell her. He'd said that he'd killed him. What if he had done something truly unforgivable? Would her feelings for him change? She didn't want that. She was incredibly happy with Jace. She'd never felt this way about a man for long, and she wasn't ready for this to end. She knew he was taking a huge step in confiding in her, however, so it wasn't as if she could refuse to listen. She had to be strong. She knew his burden was too great for one set of shoulders.

Aggie struggled to free her arm from the tangled sheet then lifted her hand to stroke his brow tenderly. "I'm listening."

He closed his eyes. "Where do I start?"

She didn't think he was really addressing the question to her, so she waited for him to proceed.

"I wasn't an easy teenager. I got into a lot of trouble. At home. At school. With the law. The more Dad tried to straighten me out, the more I acted out. Yelling at me didn't work. Physical punishment didn't work. Grounding. Taking away my possessions. Nothing worked. At the time I hated him, but not nearly as much as he hated me. For five years we lived like that—in constant opposition."

"Rebellion isn't unusual, baby. Many teenagers grow that way," Aggie said and touched his face.

Did he beat you?"

Jace shrugged. "I preferred that to the yelling. The bruises faded, but the words, they're still with me."

He ducked his head, his eyes closed. She waited for him to get himself together. After a moment, he looked into her eyes. "The day he died." He took a deep breath. "The day I killed him, I was supposed to be grounded in my room. I snuck out to be with a girl. Kara Sinclair."

"Sinclair?"

"Brian's little sister."

"I didn't know you knew the guys back then. How old were you?"

"Fifteen. I knew the band, but they didn't know me. I dated Kara to get close to them, but… and then a few months later, she…" He shook his head. "That's a story for a different day. While I was out…" His eyes drifted to her forehead. "Losing my virginity actually." When he flushed, she couldn't help but grin. He looked sort of sick to his stomach for a few seconds, but it passed. "While I was out with Kara, the house caught fire. It started in my room. Dad thought I was locked inside, so he went upstairs to get me. I wasn't there. He'd grounded me, locked me in my room. I was supposed to be there, but I wasn't, Aggie. If I hadn't disobeyed… if I hadn't broken a window and snuck out to have a good time… if I hadn't turned that heater on, or remembered to turn it off." He unfastened the cuff he always wore on his right wrist and showed her the skin beneath—burn scars too numerous to count. "I turned the heater on to do this to myself, and later I put the blanket over it without thinking. That started the fire. The curtains caught. Then the furniture. If I'd listened to him, my Dad would never have gotten trapped in the flames. He wouldn't have suffered third-degree burns on ninety percent of his body. He wouldn't have died hours later." He stared into her eyes, daring her to deny his involvement. The pain he worked so hard to conceal was right there on the surface, so tangible she believed she could touch it. "It should have been me. I should have been the one to die. I killed him, Aggie. I might as well have shot him in the head."

She knew he must feel that way, and she wasn't sure how to make him see that his father's death was a horrible, tragic accident, but it wasn't his fault. His father shouldn't have locked him in the room. And Jace hadn't purposely set the fire. He'd been a careless kid. In so much pain.

"It's in the past, baby. I love you today. Right now," she murmured, touching his face. "That's what's important." He gazed at her in the dim light filtering through the blinds. He looked miserable to the depths of his soul.

"You still love me?" he said breathlessly.

"I do."

"Even knowing…" He swallowed.

"I told you that you can tell me anything. It makes me sad that you're hurting, and I'm sorry you don't have any close family. At least you have your band—and me. We're your family."

"Nice sentiment, Aggie, but I'm not really that close to the guys. They tolerate me—"

Aggie covered his mouth. "Okay, I said you could tell me anything, but that doesn't mean you can lie. You are close to the guys. They adore you and would do anything for you. You just won't let them in. You've let me in. It's not so bad, is it?"

"It's different with you, Aggie. You've proven to me time after time that you accept me for who I am.

"You could let them get to know you. You can trust them. They won't hurt you."

The guys? They don't even know who I am."

"Maybe." He didn't look convinced.

"What are you afraid of?"

"Nothing."

"Do you think if they saw behind your wall that they'd replace you in the band?"

He hesitated and then nodded slightly.

"You obviously have a pretty low opinion of your bandmates."

A spark of anger touched his eyes. "What do you mean? I think the world of them. I'd give my life for any one of them."

"Yet you won't even let them see the real you. Do you think they have any idea how you feel about them?"

"Do they need to know? I idolize them. It's embarrassing."

He'd never learned to show affection as a child. No one had ever shown him any, so he didn't know how and didn't recognize it. That's why he didn't understand that the guys were showing him affection when they teased him. Maybe the guys would help her. She wasn't sure how she could get them to cooperate. But she wanted that for Jace. He needed to recognize the love in his life. She could have been selfish and kept him all to herself. He might even be happy with only her to confide in, but he needed a bigger support network. Latching on too hard to one person could be devastating when things didn't work out as planned or circumstances tore people apart. Jace needed supportive people in his life. He'd been alone for far too long. Perhaps he'd let his bandmates in one at a time.

"I'm glad you told me what happened to your father." She needed to shift the focus away from the dead. Help him concentrate on the living. "What happened to you after he passed on? Did you live with relatives?"

He shook his head. "I don't have any living relatives who claim me. My mother's family disowned her when she ran away from Croatia to come to America. She left some local villager at the altar or something. I remember her bringing that up when she argued with Dad. Dad's parents worked hard and died young." Jace rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "So I stayed in a group home until I turned eighteen, and then I was out on my own."

She cuddled against his side and kissed his shoulder. "The first time I saw you, I knew you'd been forced to grow up too fast."

She watched the emotions play across his face. He obviously had more demons to exorcise.

"What was the group home like?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Fight or die. I decided to fight."

"Didn't you make any friends there?"

He shook his head. "There was a reason we were the unwanted. I had my bass guitar. I dug it out of the trash. It was the only thing that survived the fire. And it was enough."

Aggie wondered how he hadn't ended up a mass murderer. How many traumatic experiences could one kid bear? And now here she was getting him shot and messing up what he'd worked so hard to achieve.

"You're not unwanted. I want you, Jace."

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took her hand and squeezed it, but said nothing. She lay there, thinking of a way to get him closer to his bandmates. He seemed to identify most with Eric. Probably because neither had parents. Or maybe Jace and Brian could connect over Kara.

"Does Brian know you dated his sister?"

"God, I hope not. He thinks she was a perfect angel. I wouldn't want to taint his memory."

"His memory?"

"Kara died in a car accident. I never saw her again after our night together. I got too rough with her. Hurt her. Scared her. She called me a freak and told me she never wanted to see me again." He caught her eye. "I'll shut up now. Nothing worse than discussing old relationships with your girlfriend."

"I'm sorry she died. She must have been so young."

"Sixteen."

Too young. "Did you love her?"

"Yeah."

"And she made you happy?"

"For a little while."

Aggie smiled sadly. "Then I'm grateful to her for that. But you are not a freak. I happen to like it when you're rough."

"That's 'cause you're a freak too."

She laughed and nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "Hey."

"I think we belong together, Aggie."

"I don't think so."

His body stiffened. She placed a hand on his chest and lifted her body to look him in the eyes.

"I know so," she said. He smiled, and she melted. They stared into each other's eyes until his cheeks went pink, and he looked away.

She decided that connecting Jace with Brian, using Kara as common ground, wasn't the best idea. She shifted to plan B. "You know who's a lot like you?"

His brows drew together as he contemplated her question.

"Eric."

"Eric?" Jace laughed. "I was forced to grow up too fast. He never grew up at all."

"He's living his childhood now, since he didn't have one as a kid. He's coping with some of the same stuff you've been through in an entirely different way."

"Aggie, you should have been a shrink. How do you know all this?"

She smiled and lowered her head to flick her tongue across his nipple ring. "I think they'd take my license away as soon as I took my whip to a client. But I suppose I do help men with certain components of their psychology—in an unconventional way."

"And I'm your magnum opus, I presume."

She shook her head. "You're my heart, baby."

He wrapped his good arm around her and drew her onto his chest. His heart thudded against her shoulder as he kissed her forehead tenderly. "I don't deserve you."

"I think I should be the judge of that."

Aggie's hand slid down his flat stomach, finding all his ticklish spots with ease. She wanted to hear him laugh. Maybe someday he'd manage it without her resorting to tickling.

The door opened, and Eric poked his head in. "Sounds like someone is having fun."

Jace's laughter died, and he grabbed Aggie's wrists to cease her tickling. He picked his cuff off the mattress and hurried to secure it around his scarred wrist. Aggie offered him a sad smile and fastened it for him.

Wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs, Eric entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"Can I come in?"

"Aren't you already in?" Aggie asked.

"I meant in the covers."

"We aren't doing anything," Jace said. "Just talking."

"You? Talking? I didn't know you knew how." He crossed the room and dove across the bed beside them. "I'm so bored. Entertain me."

"You? Bored?" Jace said. "I didn't know you knew how."

Eric laughed and punched him in the shoulder. "It's all Sed's fault. Since he and Jessica got engaged, the only action he's been getting is between his ear and his hand."

Aggie cocked a brow at him. "His ear?"

"You're lucky you've been allowed to use the bedroom this whole leg of the tour. You don't have to listen to him whispering into his phone all hours of the night and jerking off."

"Ah, phone sex. I would like to listen to that actually," Aggie said with a grin. "I bet he really gets into it."

"Actually, he tries to be quiet, but we all know what he's doing." Eric rolled his eyes. "Like Jessica would know if he fucked a groupie or two."

"She'd know." Jace chuckled. "Sed can never hide a guilty conscious."

"This is true," Eric said.

"You guys really don't have any privacy on this bus, do you?" Aggie asked.

"Nope. It's been the downfall of many bands. It's good we tolerate each other so well," Eric said. "I really miss Sed's performances though. And I don't mean his vocals. But I guess you two will have to do. Get busy." He propped his head on one hand and lifted his eyebrows.

"We really weren't doing anything but talking," Aggie said.

"What were you talking about?"

Her opening with Eric presented itself, so she took it. "Jace's father. How he died."

Eric glanced at Jace. "How?"

"I don't like to talk about it," Jace said.

"Do you have any other family?"

"Nope. No parents. No family."

Jace wriggled to get up, but Aggie sprawled her body over his and rested her head on his shoulder. She lay there like a dead weight to keep him from avoiding this conversation.

Did you go into foster care?" Eric asked.

"I was fifteen with a criminal record. No one wanted to open their home to a derelict. I stayed in a group home for almost three years."

"Did you serve jail time?"

"Juvenile hall for a few months. For a couple of shoplifting charges—nothing too exciting."

"The key to being a good shoplifter is not to get caught."

"You shoplifted?"

"I was a holy terror as a kid," Eric said.

Jace snorted and stopped trying to weasel out from beneath Aggie. "Nothing's changed."

Eric chuckled. "Maybe, but I don't steal anymore. I've found other ways to get attention."

"So you never got caught?"

"I didn't say I was a good shoplifter. I got caught more than once. One of the many reasons I was shuffled from foster home to foster home. Never had to stay in a group home though. I hear those places are pretty rough."

Jace shrugged. "I lived."

"So how'd your dad die?"

"None of your bus—"

Aggie covered Jace's mouth with her hand. "He died in a fire," she said.

"Oh man, that would be a horrible way to go. Really sorry you lost him."

Jace tore Aggie's hand from his mouth. "Why? He was an abusive son of a bitch."

"Maybe. But he was your father. I'm sure you didn't want him to die."

"You would be wrong."

No, not the tough guy, Jace. Let your heart show, baby.

"Well, whatever. Are you two going to get down to business now, or do I have to go watch boring Internet porn?"

And now she'd lost Eric too. This was going to be more challenging than Aggie realized. She had to lower Jace's defenses and raise Eric's sensitivity. No problem. Yeah, right. Maybe some sexual intimacy would work—at least for getting Jace to relax. When she kissed him, his entire body stiffened. Well, except for the part she wanted to stiffen.

She lifted her head to look at him and found him glaring at her.

"What's wrong?"

He glanced at Eric and then back at her. "Maybe I don't appreciate you telling people about my personal business."

"Don't know what the big deal is, little man. It's cool," Eric said. "I'm sure your past isn't half as depressing as mine was, but who gives a fuck? It's over, and you can't change it, so forget about it. Don't take it out on Aggie."

She looked at Eric. "No, Jace is right. If I crossed the line, then he has the right to call me on it." Her gaze shifted to Jace, who looked stunned by her words. "I apologize for interfering." But that didn't mean she was going to stop.

"It's okay," he said quietly, his eyes downcast.

This time when she kissed him, he responded with enthusiasm. He was so forgiving of everyone else. Why couldn't he forgive himself? She kissed her way to his ear. The one on the opposite side of where Eric was lounging, so Eric didn't overhear.

"I love you." She felt Jace's face grow warm against her cheek as he blushed. Ah God, he was so damn cute. She sucked his earlobe in her mouth, flicking his small hoop earring with her tongue. His cock stirred against her hip. She brushed her nose against his face as she whispered, "Do you want Eric to leave us alone? I'll kick him out."

"He can stay."

"Booyah!" Eric climbed from the bed and started removing things from the side table drawer. "I'm so fucking horny, I can hardly stand it."

Aggie chuckled and lifted her head to peer into the drawer. "Anything cherry-flavored in there?"

"If you use all of Trey's cherry-flavored oil, he'll never forgive you."

"I'll risk it."

Eric placed a tube in her outstretched hand.

She tossed the covers aside and slid down Jace's body. "Your turn, baby. I owe you some pleasure after last night."

"Did I miss something good?" Eric asked.

She drizzled cherry flavoring down Jace's hardening cock. "You missed something phenomenal, but I wouldn't have wanted you there anyway. The only one who gets to see me beg is Jace."

She loved the self-satisfied grin that crossed Jace's face. "I got plenty of pleasure out of the experience," he murmured. "You don't owe me—"

Jace gasped as she drew his cock into her mouth. He was rock hard in an instant.

"Hey, wait for me," Eric complained. He settled on the bed beside them, his head even with Jace's hip as he observed Aggie's motions. Aggie watched Eric out of the corner of her eye. He squirted oil in his palm and grabbed his cock, then stroked it with the same rhythm Aggie had found to pleasure Jace. She closed her eyes, focusing her attention on bringing Jace the most pleasure. She ran her hands over his narrow hips, drawing her thumbs over the ridges of his hip bones beneath his skin. He shuddered and grabbed her hair. She sucked him harder. His ragged breathing told her he was close. She pulled away and blew cool breaths over the head of his cock. Jace twitched uncontrollably for several moments until he regained control. Aggie held the base of his cock, rubbing her thumb up and down the underside. She drew the head into her mouth, working it between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, applying a light suction. She listened to his breathing as his excitement built again, waiting until he was close to letting go before drawing away. She eased his legs apart, dribbled cherry-flavored oil over his balls, then sucked and licked it off until he was writhing his hips in torment.

"What do you want, baby?" she murmured, licking the crease between his balls and continuing up the underside of his cock. "Tell me."

"Pussy," he gasped.

She grinned. "Mine?"

"Yes, yes. Please."

She moved up his body and straddled his hips. He grabbed his cock and directed it into her wet opening. He arched his back and thrust upward. She didn't drop down to meet him, but held her body suspended over his and watched him lift his hips to fuck her deeply.

She touched his face. "Settle down, baby. I've got you."

"Ah, Aggie, I can't take it."

He relaxed into the mattress after a moment. She sank down to take him deep. Her head fell back in ecstasy. She had wanted him to receive all the pleasure this morning, but there was no way not to take some for herself when he was buried inside her.

Eric shifted and rested his head on Jace's abdomen.

Jace tensed. "What are you doing?"

"I can see better from here," he said.

"Get off me."

"Don't deny me this, buddy. Please. I'm dying here."

Jace stuffed the sheet under Eric's head so his bare cheek wasn't touching Jace's naked belly. He made no further protest.

Aggie began to move. She couldn't decide which was sexier, Jace's face as she took him deep into her body, or Eric's as he watched and stroked his cock enthusiastically.

"You know why porn is so boring?" Eric asked. "There's no smell." He shifted his face closer to Aggie's pussy and inhaled. His eyes drifted closed. "Even more than the sights and sounds, it's the fucking scent that I can't get enough of. Or the taste." His tongue brushed against Aggie's clit, and she shuddered.

Jace grabbed a handful of Eric's hair and yanked him backward. "You're supposed to watch, not participate."

"I can't taste if I don't participate."

"Too bad."

Aggie was a little disappointed that Jace had stopped Eric. Her clit throbbed with excitement. She began to rise and fall faster over Jace's thick cock, rotating her hips to rub herself against his pubic bone with each downward motion. Eric had stopped stroking his cock. His oil-slick hand slid over Aggie's hip to her ass. Aggie's eyes met Eric's, and he smiled at her knowingly. Her gaze shifted to Jace. He had his eyes closed and was completely unaware that Eric was touching her, sliding his fingertips down the crack of her ass, slipping the tip of one long finger into her ass. She groaned and rocked backward. His finger slid deeper. Aggie's eyes drifted closed.

"What are you doing?" Jace asked.

"Her ass is lonely, Jace. Look at her. She likes it. She wants it."

She did, but only if Jace was okay with it. Eric slid a second finger into her ass, and she shuddered.

"Do you like that?" Jace asked.

She bit her lip and nodded slightly.

"Okay, then."

Eric shifted, and his fingers slid deeper.

"Oh God," Aggie groaned, grinding against Eric's hand and Jace's cock.

"I'm on it," Eric said.

He pulled his fingers out and moved to sit behind her. He straddled Jace's legs, sliding right up against Aggie's back. Eric took a moment to apply a condom and then she felt his cock against her ass. Slippery fingers lubricated her passage, and then he pressed the head of his cock inside her back entrance. She sucked a breath through her teeth. Eric grabbed her hips and pulled her downward. Her body strained to accept two cocks deep inside her. Full. Oh God , so full. She couldn't breathe.

Jace sat up, and she sank lower. She cried out, shuddering uncontrollably.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jace growled at Eric over her shoulder.

"Sharing?" Eric tried.

Aggie lifted her hips a bit, and their cocks slid out slightly. Even that little friction had her completely overwhelmed. "Oh God. Oh God. Oh God."

"She is totally getting off," Eric said. "Just go with it."

"Your balls are touching mine," Jace said between clenched teeth.

"What's a little sac connection between friends?"

Jace hesitated. "Aggie?"

"Too much," she gasped.

"You heard her, Eric. Pull out."

"You guys are killing me," Eric said.

"Deal with it."

Eric huffed, but backed out. Aggie exhaled in relief. Jace's thick girth was more than enough for her, but she had enjoyed Eric's long, thin fingers.

"What do you need to get off, baby?" Jace asked her.

"Honestly, Jace, I just need you," she whispered, "but his fingers felt amazing."

Jace and Eric exchanged glances over her shoulder. A few seconds later, fingers massaged her back opening in a firm circular motion. She groaned and ground her hips, hoping to coax one of those fingers inside. She held Jace's face between her breasts and kissed the top of his head, love welling up into her chest, her throat, her eyes. Her feelings for him were so strong that she thought they might suffocate her. Her Jace. So selfless. So giving. Oh, how she loved him.

When she released her hold, Jace dropped back on the bed and shifted his hips so she could ride him. She rose and fell over him, driving him deep and watching his face as they shared pleasure. Eyes closed, he bit his lip and gave her total control. Aggie's gaze moved to the cuff on his wrist. She unsnapped the wide bracelet and lifted his bare wrist to her lips, kissing the scars there. His eyes flipped open. I love you , she mouthed as she continued to kiss his wrist. He watched her as if fascinated. His slight smile brightened with each stroke of her lips.

"I'm getting bored back here," Eric said.

Jace stiffened as if he'd forgotten Eric was still present. Aggie chuckled.

"Then maybe you should leave," Jace said.

"If Aggie would just lean forward a bit, I could see better." Eric placed a hand on the center of her back and pushed until he was satisfied with her position. "That's better." Eric's fingers slipped inside her ass and pressed deep.

"Oh!" Her eyelids fluttered as attainment of release became her goal. Jace moved both hands to hold her breasts as she rode him harder and faster. He plucked at her nipples until she thought she'd go mad.

"That's it," Eric said. "Fuck him, Aggie."

She could hear Eric stroking himself behind her. She found herself moving to match his rhythm. Jace's back arched unexpectedly, lifting his hips off the bed and driving himself deep into Aggie's body. His eyes squeezed shut as he called out in bliss.

"Jace lost," Eric said. "He came first." He sucked a breath through his teeth. "I'm about to join him."

"If you come on me, I will kill you," Jace said to Eric.

He didn't come on Jace. He came on Aggie's ass. She felt his fluids hit her skin—warm and thick.

God, that's hot," Eric groaned and rubbed the head of his cock in his cum to spread it over her skin.

"You really need to find yourself a woman," she said. "Preferably a porn star."

"I'd rather share you with little man."

"Not sure why we let you participate," Jace grumbled. "I satisfy her better on my own."

Eric flopped down on the bed beside Jace. "Because I'm your best buddy, and you don't want me to die from a giant case of blue balls?"

"I don't think that's fatal," Aggie said.

"Have you ever had blue balls?" Eric asked.

She grinned and flipped her gaze to the ceiling. "Well…"

"They're not just for Smurfs."

Jace laughed and reached up to tug Aggie down against his chest to cuddle her against him. "Wouldn't that be a constant condition for them?"

"Poor little guys," Eric said with a troubled scowl.

"That probably has more to do with them only having one female in their species, more than their skin color," Jace said.

Eric laughed.

"I bet Smurfette gets a lot of UTIs," Aggie said.

Eric guffawed until Aggie thought he was going to pass out from lack of air. After several minutes, he wiped the tears from his eyes, still chuckling sporadically. "You guys kill me."

Aggie snuggled closer to Jace's chest. Did he see it now? How much he meant to Eric?

Eric stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "I could go for a nap. Are you going to finish her on your own? I don't have the energy. Haven't been getting enough sleep."

Jace rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You're worthless."

"Maybe," Eric said, "but at least I don't have a daisy tattooed on the top of my foot."

"Ass." Jace punched him in the arm and received a retaliating blow in return.

Aggie just grinned. Watching Jace's walls crumble was the greatest gift he could give her.