Frayed (Connections, #4)(55)

Approaching the seemingly infinite lights that twinkle all around me, I find it odd to feel the start of a smile when I look ahead. I’ve always hated LA, but for some reason I don’t see it as pretentious anymore. Instead it reminds me of Bell. The music in the car is low because I don’t need to blast it to ease my thoughts as I careen through the streets. The night seems oddly quiet. But as I coast onto the streets of LA, the quietness fades. The tree-lined streets become lively, but it’s not with cars. Trick-or-treaters fill the sidewalks—pumpkins, ghosts, goblins, and even a few Batman costumes parade door to door. I pass the LA Times building lit up in orange and remember how excited I was to start working there so many years ago. So much has happened since then. But I’ve put the past in the past and I’m moving forward.

The traffic light turns red and I stop and take the time to reread our texts from earlier. My anticipation of what the night is going to bring only grows by the moment, as does the size of my cock. The light turns green and I drive even faster to get there. Cars are emptying out of the parking lot as I pull in. I had considered attending a million different times, but each scenario ended with putting S’belle in an awkward situation and I didn’t want to stress her out when this was meant to be a happy time for her family.

Putting my BMW in PARK, I look toward the car in front of me. The license plate reads T WYATT. What the f*ck is that * doing here? I swivel my gaze toward the building and I’m caught off guard by the sign before me. Dahlia had told me what she named the company she started with her husband. But hearing about it and seeing the evidence in person are entirely different. Erected to the side of the pathway leading to the building’s glass doors stands a huge rectangular concrete sign with the words TYLER RECORDS AND AMAZING GRACE STUDIOS scripted across it in rose letters.

This gesture rocks me more than I thought it would. My mother’s name scripted in her favorite color makes everything suddenly seem more real. Maybe I was wrong about not caring if our relationship would be tainted by how it first began? How will my connection to the people inside affect a possible future with S’belle? Would her family ever be able to let the fact go that I cheated on Dahlia with S’belle?

If it was just about me, I couldn’t give a shit. But I know how important her family is to her. I know she doesn’t think they can accept me and my part in her past and that’s why she hasn’t told them she’s been seeing me. Not sure anymore if I should go down this road with her, I shift my car into DRIVE, but before I can take my foot off the gas, the passenger door opens and S’belle slips inside.

Her lemony scent immediately assaults me. I breathe deep and glance at her. She’s so f*cking sexy wearing a green strapless shorts outfit with metallic flowers on it, and the same wisps of thin gold chains that I untangled from her hair this morning are wrapped around her neck. Her eyes sparkle as she leans toward me and I’m greeted with a breathy “Hi.”

“Hi there, beautiful,” I say, letting my doubts go as I stare at the girl sitting beside me.

Her smile widens.

“Did I mention I can’t wait to strip your clothes off?”

She leans over toward me and slides her hands up my thighs, and my cock is just as excited as I am. I clear my throat, knowing we need to get out of the parking lot and back to her place . . . quickly.

She hovers over me, her hands on my legs. “Did I ever mention I took a striptease class a few years ago?”

I swallow. “A striptease class?”

“Yes, it was great exercise.”

“Fuck,” I mutter.

She sits back in her seat and when she attempts to strap her seat belt on she says, “Ouch.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” she responds.

“How was the party?”

Something flickers in her gaze. “It was . . . fun,” she says. “But it would have been more fun if you were there.”

“You didn’t invite me,” I joke.

She catches me off guard when her hands grab my face. And then her soft lips are on mine for a moment before she speaks. “You know it’s complicated.”

I do actually. We did discuss the event; we have yet to discuss just how complicated the situation is. But now is not the time. I grab the back of her neck and pull her even closer to me. When her soft lips meet mine I wonder what the hell I was thinking when I almost left without her. My tongue finds hers and I kiss her with the hunger I seem to feel for her all the time. When we finally break apart and neither of us is able to breathe, I look at her, into her eyes. “Do you know how much I want you?”

She nods, her eyes glimmering. “As much as I want you.” She smiles.

I put the car in reverse and catch her gaze. “Are you ready?”

“More than ready.” Her voice is hoarse but definitely not weak.

I put my foot on the brake and place my hand on her thigh. She jumps a little when I circle my thumb over her bare skin and after a few minutes she grabs my hand.

“Everything okay?” I ask, shooting a glance her way as I hop on the freeway.

“Yes,” she says with forced exaggeration.

“Really? Because it doesn’t sound that way.”

“I’m fine,” she says, moving our hands over to my leg.

I exit the freeway and stop at the light. “Come here,” I tell her, and grab her shoulder, pulling her over to me. Again she jumps. I let go of her and take her chin in my hand. “Okay, what’s the matter, Red? Do you not want to do this?”