The Girl's Got Secrets (Forbidden Men #7)(49)

Almost daring him to react with the look I sent him, I pulled the door open.

A resigned breath eased from his lungs. “Just...watch your six, will you?”

“Aye-aye, Captain.” I sent him a salute, sent Sticks a glance only to see him worriedly chewing on his fingernails, and I stepped into the hall. And what do you know, no Miller Hart leapt at me, intent to kill.

Both Pick and Remy found their way out to the bar a couple minutes later. They stuck around, chatting together over a beer, making me irritable with every minute they lingered.

I avoided both of them, not ready to talk any more about my father, or even think about him.

Except I couldn’t get him out of my head. Learning he was free had rattled me. All bound up inside, I wasn’t really sure exactly how the news affected me, I just knew it did. I wasn’t scared, like some people thought I should be, but I was shocked and...unsettled. I really didn’t want to face the old man. After my one and only visit to him behind bars, I’d put that part of my life behind me and moved on. I just wanted it to stay behind me.

Both of my self-appointed bodyguards finally left about an hour before closing, but either Pick had given Knox orders to escort me to my motorcycle or yet another person was worried about my safety.

That was weird, having people think about me and worry about me. I wasn’t sure how to deal with it, so I just thanked my coworker and waved him off as soon as I started my beast.

When I made it to my place, yes, fine, I checked around a little to see if the old man was there. But the alley that led to my front door was empty. I unlocked all the deadbolts, remembered to lock up behind me, and jogged down the steps into my tiny domain.

Mozart rattling around in his cage was the only thing to greet me.

“Hey, little fella,” I said, flipping on the main light, even though I’d left a dim nightlight on for him to see.

My entrance really set him off, racing even faster along the tunnels I’d made him to go from cage to cage until he was in the one closest to me. His excitement made me feel appreciated, even though I’m sure he wasn’t glad to see me specifically; he was most likely only eager for me to let him loose. So I granted him his wish, and popped open his door.

He shot out past me, a blur of brown fur leaping a good five feet toward the back of the couch. Then he scurried along the backrest and dove onto the floor where he disappeared under my bed.

I sighed. “Yeah, it’s nice to see you too, buddy.”

Oh, well. He was better company than nothing.

Kicking off my shoes, I strolled into the kitchenette area and opened the mini fridge to pull out a bottle of water. I hadn’t eaten since scarfing down half of Remy’s food at practice, but I wasn’t really hungry. And I didn’t feel like sleeping even though I was tired as well. I already knew I’d only toss and turn if I crawled into bed right now, and I hated getting bound up in my own sheets...unless maybe I had company of the feminine variety with me.

But I had no woman around, and thoughts of my dad free and roaming the streets somewhere out there had my head spinning. I might catch an hour or two of sleep later, but not yet. Slouching into a chair at the table, I pulled my notebook I’d left sitting open to me and picked up a pen.

My muse certainly didn’t feel as inspired as it had earlier, but this song was the only thing I wanted to work on. Except, shit, envisioning my dad, old and wrinkly at the prison, complaining about how unfairly he’d been treated, was the only thing I could focus on.

Scrubbing my face, I sat back in my chair and opened my mind. The first person to pop to the forefront of my thoughts was Incubus shirt girl, singing on stage and bumping her hip against that of the shorter redhead next to her. She’d been so sassy and relaxed up there, singing with confidence because she’d known she’d had it in the looks and the voice department, and she just wanted to have a little fun with both. It’d made me want to have a little fun with her.

But so much about her was blurry in my mind—I remembered too few actual details other than she’d had long dark hair. So I gave her the legs of the drummer chick who’d come to audition for us. I would’ve given her the drummer chick’s face too, but I couldn’t drag that up into my memory banks all that well either. I sucked at recalling faces. So, I guessed the legs and hair would have to do.

I imagined gripping handfuls of that silky, long dark hair while those incredible legs wrapped around me in the hopes of stirring forth a new line for the song.

Only I stirred up something else instead.

My jeans went tight in the lap area, so I slipped a little further down in my chair to make more room. But that didn’t help. It’d been too long since little Asher had come out to play, and once I woke him, he only wanted more attention, and he just kept growing, demanding I give him some. So I unzipped and reached down to adjust myself. One of the small perks of living alone; I could sit around with my junk hanging out, and no one cared.

But the thought of no one caring infused that spark of loneliness that’d been claiming me lately, and I had to make myself think of the Incubus shirt girl again with Drummer Chick’s legs to get over it. And yep, my dick just grew harder. Before I knew it, I was sliding my hand around the base of my cock and pumping it hard, not thinking about lyrics at all, but closing my eyes so I could daydream of soft, warm skin, long dark hair and a tight wet * that had me shooting my load all over my stomach in moments.