Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“What did you mean by ‘make you a deal’? Are you working on a solo project? Did you want me to write you a song or play an instrument or…what?”
I huffed derisively, looking both ways, then crossing the street to the deserted alleyway behind Scratch Records. I had no idea what time it was. It must have been later than I thought. There was usually a car or two parked near the building, but it was empty now…and kind of spooky. Although tonight, I felt more amused than anything. I shook my head and paused to grab my key from my pocket.
“No, I’m not interested in going solo. Justin would probably kill me if I tried. And if I needed a song, I’d go to him before you any day.” I shot an ugly smile over my shoulder as I unlocked the glass door and gestured for him to relock it.
I started down the hall toward the darkened main office, but Dec pulled the sleeve of my jacket. I whirled around to face him with a “WTF” look that would have made anyone else back off immediately. Not Dec. The guy had a fucking thick skull.
He cocked his head inquisitively as he stepped into my space, effectively boxing me into the corner of what was basically the side entrance vestibule. No one would notice us unless they wanted to use this exit. At this hour, it was safe to assume we were alone. That was good. I didn’t want an audience. But there was something about the accidental snug quarters that made me itchy.
“Stop walking away from me and tell me what you—” Dec froze. “Is this a sex thing?”
I snorted humorlessly. “Not a chance.”
“Liar.” Declan folded his arms over his chest and nodded. “Okay, fine. I’ll blow you if you help me. What are the rules?”
“Blow me? What are you—are you fucking nuts?” I sputtered.
“Maybe. Don’t be such a prude, T. It’s not like we haven’t done it before. And if sex is the kind of leverage you need over me, whatever. If we both get off and you quit looking at me like I killed your cat, maybe it’s a win.”
It took me a full minute to shut my mouth and unscramble my brains so I could intelligently process the nonsense he was spouting. No, wait. This was Dec. He rarely meant anything he said outside of a studio. The guy was trying to trip me up.
Declan McNamara was a snake, but he looked like the rock and roll god he probably would be one day with his longish brown hair, chiseled jaw, full lips, blue eyes, and lean, tattooed body. It wasn’t enough to say he was handsome. His attraction went well beyond looks. He oozed confidence, charisma, and an innate sense of purpose that put him in another realm. He had “it” …that extra ingredient that set him apart from mere mortals. Kind of like Justin, but different. More subtle.
I mimicked his posture, crossing my arms as I leaned against the wall. “I see. So, you’re saying you’d trade your ass for my drums?”
He pursed his lips like he was hiding a smile. “I’m thinking on my feet here, T. I had no idea you wanted my ass.”
“I don’t,” I deadpanned.
Dec inched into my space until we stood toe to toe. “Hmph. You must have some devious plan to exact revenge on me. Make it painful, degrading…make me hate your guts as much as you hate mine.”
I pushed him hard enough that he stumbled backward a couple of steps. “The thing you always get wrong is that you think I give a fuck about you.”
“You spend a lot of time hating me. Don’t bother denying it. I bet you’ve thought up all kinds of delicious ways to make me suffer. Trust me, I’d have rather sucked your dick than asked for your help, asshole. You go out of your way to make everything as fucking difficult as possible.”
The vein at his temple protruded angrily as he revved himself up. Did I hate him? Well, yeah, but I definitely didn’t waste any time thinking of ways to make him suffer.
“Might want to take a look in the mirror, pal,” I snarled, stepping to my left. “I’m done here. We obviously can’t have a rational conversation without wanting to gouge each other’s eyes out, so let’s leave it the fuck alone.”
He moved in front of me and shook his head. “Tell me what you meant first. What kind of deal do you want?”
“Dec…”
“I mean it. I want a truce. I’m tired of fighting and I actually do need help.”
His voice took on a gravelly quality that went straight to my cock. I couldn’t tell if it was the needy undertone or something headier I didn’t quite understand, but the air crackled with a familiar carnal electricity I didn’t want to associate with Declan. Ever. I had to get out of there.