Tunes (Beekman Hills Book 2) Page 4

  No matter how hard I try, my thoughts keep running right back to everything that happened yesterday and, more unfortunately, to the things that didn’t. I don’t really do the relationship thing. Not that I’m a slut or easy or anything, but I’m better off with just having fun and keeping my heart safely tucked away.

  Familial expectations don’t really mesh with the guys I tend to be interested in, which is why a spring break hook-up is perfect. No strings, no rules.

  Why the hell is he not on board with this?

  Is this what rejection feels like? Is this how Lis feels?

  My girl’s confidence has been shot ever since the Christmas Eve debacle. At least her family is totally up-front in their dysfunction. Mine buries that shit deep, deep in the closet.

  My day drags with my thoughts churning and rolling over the events of yesterday and the rebuff of last night. The more I mix it around in my mind, the more pissed off I get.

  I pull my phone out of my tan-and-brown-swirled bag and check to see which band is playing where tonight. I tell myself it’s strictly to know which bar to avoid, but I’ve never been all that great at lying to myself.

  Chapter 6

  Gracyn

  I’m weak as shit, and I can’t seem to stay away from Gavin. I mean, his music. I can’t stay away from the music.

  Or I’m completely pissed off, and I feel the need to set things straight.

  I know Gavin sees me. I’ve felt the powerful, searing heat of his gaze several times throughout the current set. Of course, I’ve made my presence perfectly unavoidable. There is no way he can miss me in my body-hugging aubergine bandeau dress. Each and every subtle shift is highlighted and accentuated by the fit and shimmer of the dress.

  Gavin’s isn’t the only attention I get either. His lead singer makes his way over to my side of the stage and crouches down, like he’s singing to me and me alone. Gavin does not hide the fact that he’s watching, taking it all in. The way he steps closer to where I’m dancing, squaring up to his singer, promises that I’ll get my opportunity to talk and say my piece when they’re done.

  With a shift of his leg and a step forward, Gavin manages to knock the other guy back and claim the stage directly in front of me, though he’s no longer looking at me. In fact, he’s so pointedly avoiding me that I turn in a huff and find a seat at the bar. The bartender slides me a fresh drink, and though the cool liquid is refreshing, it does nothing to chill my ire.

  At the unmistakable wail of, “Fuck you, Destin,” I finish the last of my frosty beverage and stalk to the door beside the stage. I practically run straight into Gavin’s hard, muscled chest. Pulling my shoulders back, I stand as tall as I can and launch into the pile of feelings I picked through all day on the beach.

  “I just wanted to thank you for helping me not make the biggest fucking mistake. It literally hurts me to admit that you were right, but I would have totally regretted anything happening between us last night.”

  He’s the absolute picture of calm, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. Not one hint of emotion shows across his features. He stares at me like he’s looking through my cloud of indignation.

  Embarrassment mixes dangerously with all the drinks I had for liquid courage and the heady scent of Gavin’s cologne.

  “S-so, that’s it. I just wanted you to know it would have been a big fucking mistake and—” My words falter as he thrusts his body off the wall, his eyes narrowing on mine as he crowds my space. “And I don’t need to waste my time with anyone willing to blow me off and not appreciate me for who I am.”

  He scoffs, and as my words fade, I shove a finger into his chest, using it to try to lend credence to the conviction I really hope I’m projecting.

  Anything I planned to follow that up with gets lost in the fog of my brain when Gavin’s lips slam into mine, erasing all coherent thoughts. His hand wraps around the finger I have jammed into his chest, unfurling my fisted digits and smoothing them flat to his chest. I gasp as his other hand threads through my hair, pulling as he grasps tightly, shifting my head into the position he wants.

  And there it is again. That same toe-curling kiss from last night, the one that steals my breath away and almost makes me forget how pissed I am. Almost.

  When Gavin pulls back a fraction, slowing the kiss, rational thought rushes me, and I shove both hands against his chest. He doesn’t budge, but I manage to throw myself off-balance, and I’m reeling with the floor coming up fast. Strong arms wrap around me, crushing me against the very wall of muscle I just tried to escape from.

  “Gracyn, stop. What the hell is your problem?” Gavin practically growls as he sets me upright.

  “My problem? My problem?” I wiggle free of his grasp. “You’re my fucking problem. I have never—fuck it.” I petulantly stomp my foot and storm away from him, feeling flustered and stupid and just embarrassed.

  Pushing my way through the crowd, I take a deep, cleansing breath the moment the ocean air hits my face. I text the girls I came here with and tell them I’m leaving. Taking my strappy stilettos in hand, I let the sand squish between my toes, choosing to walk back to the condo along the beach as opposed to taking an Uber. It’s not my smartest idea, but I need the time and space to think.

  I shouldn’t have come here tonight. I probably shouldn’t have come to Destin at all. Instead, I should have stayed in New York and hung out with Lis. She’s most likely hiding out at our apartment or working. She works way too hard and doesn’t go out without me unless it’s to grab a beer at McBride’s, the Irish pub near our apartment.

  The soft, warm sand and crashing of the waves shush the sound of an approaching runner until it’s too late. And what started out as not my best idea has quickly become the stupidest thing I’ve ever done when I sense the air shift just before a hand wraps tightly around my upper arm. The moment of panic steals my air, and the cry for help comes out as a strangled, stuttered gasp, effectively drowned in the roar of the ocean.

  GAVIN

  It almost sounds like Gracyn’s trying to call out for help. Jesus, I don’t know what the fuck just happened, why we can’t seem to get our shit together, but if she’s this panicked, this upset by me touching her, then we need to just forget this whole damn thing.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpers, her words carried off on the wind.

  I relax my grip on her arm. Evidently, that little bit of space is all she needs to gather her courage and badassery because, before I have time to process what’s happening, she’s got my hand trapped and arm locked, and she twists, throwing me right off-balance. And then I’m flat on my back with my eyes tearing up and her knee driving straight into my gut.

  “Oh my God, Gavin?” Her knee comes off me, and she rocks back on her heels.

  I cough, trying to catch the breath that whooshed out when I hit the sand.

  “Are you okay?” Concern laces through Gracyn’s voice giving me hope that she actually gives a shit. She falls to her knees next to me, warm hands fluttering over my cheeks and neck, checking my pulse. Searching my eyes for signs of trauma and distress.

  She leans down, her face hovering just above mine, her lips a breath away. I want to lean up and kiss her, drink her in.

  “Gracyn,” I rasp. The feigned catch in my voice is just enough to pull her close to me, stilling her movements. I’m stupid to expect anything less than fury from her when the corners of my lips quiver and turn up. I want to wait, gauge her reaction, but I’m too far gone.

  The muscles in my gut complain as the waves of laughter roll through me. I’m almost too slow to react to Gracyn’s balled-up fist flying toward my eye. Almost.

  Time stops as I catch her hand in mine, pulling her off-balance. She lands, sprawled across my chest, grasping for purchase, trying to push herself off of me. Instead, I snake my free hand around her back and crash her lips to mine.

  What starts out as a hard and unyielding kiss quickly becomes a fiery mess of passion as we nip and
devour each other. There’s no way in hell I’m pulling back first. Not this time. This time, it’s up to Gracyn to put on the brakes, to slow things down. To put a stop to what’s happening here. And, as those thoughts are flying through my mind, I feel it. She pushes off me as much as her awkward, splayed-out position will allow.

  Disappointment sinks deep, flowing through me. I close my eyes and blow a frustrated breath out through pursed lips, mentally talking myself out of another case of blue balls. I don’t know what it is about her, but she has me so tied up in knots; I don’t know what the fuck to do.

  “Let’s go,” Gracyn murmurs against my lips, shocking the hell out of me.

  I push up on my elbows, brows pinched together, searching her features for some sign that she’s bullshitting me. There’s nothing. Nothing but heat and desire swirling in the deep pools of her chocolate-brown eyes.

  I stand, pulling her with me, and before I can stop them, the words come tumbling out of my mouth. “Are you sure?”

  Sand clings to my skin and clothes as I stand here, waiting for her response, gauging her reaction.

  “Shut up, Gavin.” Gracyn’s fingers coil around my neck, twisting into the sweaty strands curling at the back of my head. She tugs, pulling me down while stretching as tall as she can.

  Her warm breath skates across my lips. I lean in, trying to close that last bit of space separating us when her grasp on my hair tightens, holding me back from kissing her.

  “Don’t fuck it up this time. You won’t get another second chance.”

  And, with one last sharp tug, she steps around me and scoops her shoes up off the sand without pausing. “You coming?”

  Fuck, yes … but only after she does.

  Chapter 7

  Gracyn

  My heart is slamming against my ribs. I clutch tightly to my shoes to keep my hands from shaking. The fear of being attacked was very real before the rote reaction took over. I never thought I’d actually have to use that self-defense shit, but when we were kids, my twin brother, Bryan, made sure to teach me everything he’d learned.

  And now? I’m almost positive that Gavin is on board with me, but God help me if he’s not. I might combust.

  “You want to tell me what that was?” Gavin asks as he slides his warm palm around my waist.

  Well, there’s my answer. He’s with me—at least for the time being.

  “Uh … that was me, not letting anyone take advantage of me. What did it feel like to you?”

  His hand is splayed low across my stomach, fingertips brushing along the top of my panties, tracing the band through the fabric of my dress. He pulls me tight against his front as we wait to cross the street and leans down, so his lips brush the shell of my ear. “It felt a lot like you know exactly what you want and what you don’t, killer.”

  The light changes, and Gavin’s hand slides around to my back—more like my ass—guiding me across the street. I make a beeline for the stairs leading up to my unit, turning as I reach them. Firmly placing my hands on his chest, I stop this show, needing to get a feel for what’s about to go down.

  “You know what’s going on, right? No repeat of that non-performance from last night?” I narrow my gaze on Gavin’s face.

  With his hands planted squarely on my ass, he presses my hips into him and growls, “Yeah, I think I’ve got you covered.”

  He slides his hands down under my thighs and lifts me while climbing the steps. When we get to the door of my condo, he releases his hold, and I slowly slide down the front of his body. Every hard plane of him traps me against the door to the condo, his forearms framing my head. His lips skim, nip, and taste me from that spot below my ear and across the sensitive skin of my neck, devouring me.

  “Key?” he rumbles out as his attention moves to my other side. The pressure as his knee pushes between my thighs makes me gasp as I reach behind me for the keypad by the door. “Gracyn, give me the key.”

  I push against the wall of Gavin’s chest and turn just enough to enter the code and unlock the door. “No key, just a code.”

  The condo is mostly dark and silent. Faint lines of light filter through the blinds, illuminating the space just enough for us to pick our way through to my room.

  I reach back, grabbing a fistful of Gavin’s T-shirt, and pull him along behind me. As soon as he clears the threshold, I slam the door and back him up against the solid surface.

  I don’t understand what this infatuation with him is. It’s got to just be lust. Spring break, no-strings-attached lust. I lift up on my toes and kiss along his jawline as I slide my hands down his torso, seeking out the button of his shorts. As I fumble clumsily, pushing the bottom of his T-shirt out of my way, Gavin shoves himself off the wall and spins us around, pressing into me instead.

  “You think you need to be in control right now?” he asks, reaching behind him and pulling his shirt off. His skin glows in the soft light. Lean muscles are highlighted, each dip and groove accentuated by the shadows.

  Honestly, the last thing I want is to be in control of anything. I want to let go. I want someone to move me, take me. Not in a creepy way, but just so I can surrender this ridiculous need to always be in charge. It’s the how that escapes me.

  So, I bolster myself, speaking in half-truths, “I do. You’re the one who dropped the ball last night. Not sure I can trust you to get this done right.” I pop open his shorts, trying to cover the battle waging inside me with false bravado that I slip on like a silk robe.

  The sound of his zipper scraping open echoes through the small room. My hands wind inside his waistband, sliding around his bare hips until I take a firm grasp of his ass, pulling him into me. This is what I need—this being in command—no matter how much I would love to just let go.

  Gavin works the sides of my dress up until the skirt is bunched up around my hips. His callused fingertips scrape across my skin as he slides his hands up beneath the fabric, mimicking my movement, my grasp. My hold on him.

  “Listen, sunshine, I like where you think you’re going with this, but, uh, you’re going to have to let me drive.” He accentuates his words with a very determined press of his hips, pinning me in place against the door.

  And that press? Sweet mother of God.

  “You think you can handle that?” He brushes his lips against the shell of my ear, and no matter how hard I try to hold it back, a shiver runs through my body, raising chill bumps on my skin. Pebbling my nipples.

  With that transfer of power, I truly just become putty in his arms. He challenges me not just physically, but he also pushes against my mental shit. Past my walls. Through the barriers I usually keep firmly in place.

  Gavin slides his hands under my thighs and lifts me like it’s nothing. Just like he had me last night, pressed deliciously between the wall and the hard planes of his body. And then he starts moving, grinding into me. His hard cock applying pressure in all the right places.

  A moan escapes my lips, and that just seems to drive him harder, making him more determined.

  Dear God …

  “Yes.” I didn’t mean for that to be out loud, but the growl he lets out tells me he heard it.

  There’s no hiding now. No pulling control back. At least, that’s what I tell myself because maybe, just maybe, I really do want to let go this time. Maybe I’m ready to let someone else be in charge. And, hell, this is nothing more than a hook-up, right?

  I roll my head to the side, granting Gavin the access to my neck that he’s been after. He licks and nips from my jaw to my collarbone, paying special attention to that spot right where my shoulder meets my neck.

  “I need more. More … please …” I beg breathlessly. “Please …”

  Somehow, he keeps me propped against the wall while sliding himself down the front of my body until he’s on his knees in front of me. A shudder drives its way through my body as he buries his face in my core. Hot, breathy groans and the rasp of his scruff against my sensitive skin have me squirming and gasping, fingers
twining through his hair. I’m not quite sure whether I’m holding him to me or pushing him away. Gavin licks and sucks at my clit through the lace of my panties until I’m panting and writhing, bucking against him, his name fighting for flight from my lips. But I can’t give in, not yet. I can’t let him know he’s getting to me, making me lose control.

  “Stop fighting it, Gracyn,” he growls, lifting me as he stands.

  He turns and stalks to my bed but doesn’t set me down. Instead, he just stands there, palms on my ass, licking his lips. Eyes glinting in the light from the streetlamps outside the window, his gaze bounces back and forth between my eyes. The intensity is more than I’m comfortable with, causing me to doubt myself.

  Can I really do this? I feel like I’m baring myself to him, opening up in a way I don’t think I ever have before.

  “Put me down.” I shift and wiggle, trying to break free from this vulnerability. It’s like he’s not just looking at me, but through me, into me.

  He presses his teeth into his full bottom lip, slowly shaking his head back and forth.

  “Gavin, put me down.” I try to sound stern and serious, but I can’t, and I fail miserably. I don’t really want him to put me down. I want him to take me places I can’t even imagine.

  I want him to just take me.

  “Please,” I whisper, my voice quieter this time, holding absolutely no conviction.

  GAVIN

  This power struggle has my head spinning. I’m not sure which way to go—give in to her, let her have that feeling of being in charge, or stay in the driver’s seat. Something’s different; something’s holding her back.

  I take another step forward, my knee resting at the edge of the mattress. “Gracyn, I’ll put you down”—she squirms and wiggles, tensing up, and I grip her sweet ass tighter—“when I’m good and ready.”