Out From Under Read online

  “Fine. Tell Talia to expect me—”

  “Oh, and leave your shadow at whatever clubhouse you guys are stayin’ in. He’s not welcome at Talia’s.”

  Clooney glared at both Linx and Trista before he turned on his black biker-boots and hopped back on his Harley. Trey finally walked away without saying goodbye, and climbed on the back of his beast. The Harleys roared to life, the noise they made as they tore out of the parking lot seeming obnoxiously loud.

  Linx pulled her closer to him and breathed in the luxurious scent of her hair and the smell of vanilla and freesia on her skin, letting her envelope him completely. He pulled her hair to the side and gently stroked the back of her neck. She tensed in his arms for a moment, before her body relaxed and molded with his.

  Their kiss was perfectly natural as his lips sought out hers. As his tongue gently teased hers, there was a playful, yet sexually charged, energy in the air. His mouth devoured her, and he could no longer deny the obvious. He not only wanted her to be his but he was ready to possess her in every way there was for a man to possess a woman.

  Linx’s emotions exhilarated and frightened him down to the core of his being. He’d never thought he would ever feel this way about a woman again and now those old familiar feelings were returning as his heart raced along with Trista’s. Instinctively, he knew as he fell faster and faster into an unknown oblivion that he couldn’t stop the inevitable from happening, not even if it was what he truly desired—he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to be with Trista and adored every moment they spent together

  She was his and he would make sure he knew her inside and out before the day was through.

  LINX COULDN’T HAVE been more pleased with the way the jam at the studio turned out. Not only did they record a new song for their upcoming album, but he, Kris, and Niko insisted they re-record the old songs from the two previous albums with Talia. This pissed Seth off and he walked out without saying good bye to anyone.

  Linx had known Seth his whole life and was good friends with his twin brother, Nil, who was also a recovering addict. Since Nil had cleaned up he’d become so straight-laced that he only smoked cigarettes and never touched anything else, including alcohol. Since the tour had ended, however, if Seth left the group, he seriously thought it wouldn’t be that big of a loss. He brought the whole mood down with his shitty attitude and everyone left the studio each day that much more vexed because of him.

  The rest of the band stuck around and managed to record four of the old songs from the first album. There were only two more to go and that album would be complete. Both Niko and Linx had great voices, equally as strong as Seth’s, so they did backup vocals on the tracks and the re-written lyrics were better than the original versions.

  It took all the concentration he could muster to only think about recording and not about Trista’s hot, tight body. She watched him and occasionally spoke to the engineers, but everyone could see everyone else through their little glass boxes. It was Introspect Records’ way of making sure there no funny business going on at the studio, as well as to keep an eye on the ex-junkies they had under their employment. The whole building was wired with cameras, even the bathrooms, though they were tilted at a level that would not embarrass anyone in the toilets yet low enough to see any drug use that might potentially happen.

  Linx didn’t know how legal or ethical it was, but it gave him a certain sense of security. He’d never had an issue with drugs, so he didn’t know what it was like. His only weakness was cigarettes, alcohol and occasionally, chronic, but he didn’t do the hard stuff. He hadn’t indulged in coke since meeting Trista.

  He had this nagging, clichéd feeling of wanting to be a better man for Trista. The need to indulge just wasn’t there anymore. She was his drug of choice and all the speed he would ever need. He realized in that moment that he may be falling in love with her.

  Wait, when did that happen? Sure, he knew he liked her a lot but when had it turned into the overwhelming feeling of wanting to be around her all the time? She never bored him, and she never lied. She wasn’t a deceptive person by nature and he loved that about her.

  He forgot about all of his feelings, his thoughts, and his colleagues when he placed his bass in its case and walked out of the glass booth to meet Trista. She grabbed his free hand and they walked outside to the parking lot. “I don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but…I’m pretty sure I want to take our relationship to the next level,” he told her quietly as they walked.

  “The next level?” Trista teased him, poking him in the ribs with her free hand. “And how much on-the-side action have you been getting while you were waiting to take ‘us’ to the next level?”

  Linx looked down at her, directly in her eyes, pain filling his eyes. “Just because I’m a ‘rock star’ doesn’t mean I am a man-whore or a fucking douchebag. I. Don’t. Cheat. Not even when Cassidy and I were having problems and she withheld sex as ‘punishment’. I’m a good little Irish Catholic guy who is completely faithful when I become involved with someone.”

  Trista stopped walking and he lost his grip on her hand. “What do you mean you don’t cheat? You admitted to sleeping with another woman while you were married.”

  “I did sleep with another woman…after her ultimate betrayal, which I will tell you about some other time. The man who fucked another woman while married to Cassidy—I’m not him anymore. I wouldn’t ever act so immaturely ever again.”

  She looked down, speaking to the asphalt as she inquired, “How long have you considered us involved? I mean, I haven’t been with anyone since Clooney and that was just before…”

  He turned toward her and brought her face up to his with his index finger, until they stared into one another’s eyes. “Since you showed me those delectable tits of yours when you got your tattoo. Even before then, I hadn’t slept with a woman in a while. The last time I got laid was when we were on tour in Japan. I met this great young woman and we had this amazing conversation.” He held his hand up, stopping her before she could speak.

  “I’m only telling you this because I don’t want you to think that I just whip it out and throw a jimmy on just because a woman is hot. Been there, done that—bought the fuckin’ tee shirt, too. I admit to cheating on Cassidy before we got married, but once I put that ring on her finger, I became another person. She didn’t take our vows as seriously as I did and my retaliation to what she did was really fucking stupid. I’m not perfect, but I will be a better man for you because we’re worth it—you’re worth it. My only regret is that Cassidy and I, we…divorced instead of getting an annulment. I can’t give that to you…a big, beautiful Catholic wedding.”

  Trista wrapped her arms around his neck. “I don’t give a shit about that. Everyone I love is dead…except Trey,” she murmured. “Fuck, I can’t believe you are talking about marriage and you haven’t you haven’t even taken me for a test drive yet.”

  Linx kissed her and she responded, pressing her body against his. He wrapped an arm around her waist as their mouths opened to one another and soon, they were deeply intertwined, his tongue swirling in her beautiful mouth before he nibbled on her lower lip. He wanted her too much; his cock was so hard, it was painful.

  They finally separated and their lips were slightly swollen. “I don’t do half-assed affairs. I trust my instincts and I have never felt more for another woman than I feel for you. Call it fucking lust if you want, since we’ve known each other for less than two months, but I do know I don’t want to let you go. You’re like a wounded bird and I want to protect you from seeing any more ugly shit. You get what I’m sayin’?”

  Trista nodded. “Are you suggesting we do what I think you’re suggesting? Something completely impulsive, random, out of character, and ridiculously crazy?”

  “Abso-fucking-lutely. Let’s go to Vegas and just do it. You can be my teenage bride and you’ll belong to me. No one—not even Talia—can interfere with us if we’re married.”

&n
bsp; She looked at him for a long time as his heart thundered in his chest. What if she thought he was crazy? Hell, he didn’t even know what he was doing, but it felt right and he always followed his instincts.

  Always.

  They’d never steered him wrong before.

  His instincts told him not to marry Cassidy, despite her being pregnant, but he had to. His parents would have been mortified if he hadn’t.

  Now, he made up his own rules and answered to no one. He wanted this beautiful, gorgeous woman to be his wife and then he would have Loire complete the tattoo on his forearm. It bothered him that Trista’s name wasn’t above the ampersand.

  The prolonged silence between them was killing him and he wanted her to say something—anything—at this point.

  Trista suddenly smiled before she bit her lower lip. “Hell fuckin’ yeah. I’ll marry you, Lennon Carter.”

  He took her into his arms and kissed her long and hard. “Come on. We’ll drive out tonight—”

  “Let’s take my car. You can drive but I have Nevada plates. We’ll look less conspicuous.”

  “What about your bodyguards?”

  She shrugged casually. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure out a way to get rid of them.”

  Linx stared at her and smiled before they both broke into laughter.

  Chapter Fifteen

  FOR THE FIRST two hours as we drove to Vegas, I thought a part of me had mentally left the building. I was about to marry a man I hadn’t even known for two months.

  Of course, the further away from L.A. we drove and the closer to Vegas we got, my whole thought process changed. I wasn’t doing anything all that crazy or strange. I was acting on my own accord and I was perfectly sober. I couldn’t legally drink but I could marry this crazy, beautiful, fucked-up rocker, who turned out to be normal in comparison to me.

  The real reason why I said yes, among other things, was because I needed a family, one to call my own. Linx had Brady and Jimi. They would become my step-sons, and he would be my husband. I would no longer be dependent on my cousin and I could call my own shots. That was appealing to me and I couldn’t get that fantasy out of my head.

  Linx Carter had asked me to marry him.

  Me!

  I wasn’t anyone special, just an attractive young woman who didn’t know quite where she fit in this huge universe of people. I did know one thing, though: when I was with Linx, I felt normal, like the old me. He made me feel like I was special and the most precious creature alive.

  In many ways, he reminded me of my father.

  He came from a solid, Irish-Catholic background and was a grounded human being. Fame hadn’t gone to his head and underneath all the tattoos, he was a decent man who wanted a wife and a family. He wanted a home and someone there that truly cared about him as a person and not about his status as a “bad-boy rocker”.

  I felt safe with Linx because he gave me a sense of comfort and peace. I instantly relaxed in his presence and, like my father, he never raised his voice. He was loving and kind despite the undercurrents that ran through him. I knew he had an inner strength as well as a temper that he’d come to terms with and hid quite well. I didn’t have to second-guess myself around him and he’d been so patient—the whole time we’d spent time together, he’d never once tried to pressure me into sex.

  I wasn’t a virgin; I knew what to do and what went where. Clooney had pretty much carved me out and we’d had more than our fair share of sex. With Linx and I, it was almost like we both knew there was so much more between us and we were waiting…for what exactly, I truly didn’t know.

  We didn’t arrive in Vegas until after ten p.m. but the Marriage License Bureau downtown was still open. There were a few couples in front of us but other than that, it took less than a half an hour.

  “Oh my God!” the clerk said loudly, as she looked at our paperwork. “You’re Linx Carter from Winter’s Regret?”

  Then it hit me. I was about to marry someone who was fucking famous. How long would it take for the news to get out if this random chick knew who he was?

  “Yes, I am,” he replied quietly, pulling out a certified copy of his divorce decree, which proved his marriage to Cassidy had been legally dissolved, and presented it along with our driver’s licenses.

  “Pine Bluff? Isn’t that in Northern Nevada?” the clerk inquired, green eyes still wide as they flicked from Linx to me.

  “Yeah. It’s pretty much smack dab in the middle—between Reno and Lake Tahoe.”

  “Oh. My. God. I have never had the opportunity to take anyone’s application who was famous! Wait until I tell my friends—they are going to be so crushed you’re off the market!”

  I stared at Linx and he looked at me before he shrugged his shoulders.

  What could I say to such an asinine comment? Neither her nor her friends would have ever had the opportunity to meet, let alone marry this man. Why would they care whether he was “off the market” or not?

  Neither one of said anything but we both smiled at her.

  She collected the sixty dollar fee, and issued us a license. I breathed, relieved, since we couldn’t get married without one.

  Afterwards, Linx drove us to the Cosmopolitan Hotel & Casino where we would be staying while there in Las Vegas. Linx had already booked a suite for us with a wraparound terrace and it was the ultimate in luxury. I loved it, especially the view of all the other glitzy hotels spread before us.

  “Go shower,” he said after I did a quick walkthrough of the place. “I have a shopper coming up to get your measurements, so she can buy you a gown for the ceremony.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll have one after you’re done. I ordered my tux when we were checking in. I decided to go classic, a black suit by Armani. But you can have anything you want…understand?”

  I nodded my head and numbly walked into the bathroom, stripping out of my clothes and taking a shower. The bathroom was suitably stocked, but Linx had somehow gotten a Victoria’s Secret gift basket brought up that came with a variety of lotions and body sprays. I chose my favorite and moisturized my skin before I spritzed my whole body in my own perfume. I breathed in my signature scent of freesia and vanilla that mixed together on my skin. The combination calmed me, easing the butterflies in my stomach.

  I walked out of the bathroom clad in a terry cloth robe, courtesy of the Cosmopolitan Hotel. A small-boned blonde with pale blue eyes and creamy skin spoke to Linx, the personal shopper, I presumed. It was obvious she knew who he was despite her smart pale pink dress and matching sky-high Christian Louboutin high heels.

  “…yeah, I was at that concert. My best friend and I saw you and Scarlet Fever in concert over at MGM Grand when you guys played the Garden Arena. It was an awesome show. I was blown away and I hope you guys will come back now that Talia is the lead singer. That chick is fucking bad ass. She and Pink are the two toughest chicks in rock at the moment. Don’t get me wrong, I love The Pretty Reckless and Trilogy, but Taylor and Juli are just girls, not women. I love Talia and her voice. She’s made Winter’s Regret, like, a thousand times better, you know?”

  I cleared my throat, afraid if I didn’t interrupt, that the bitch would never stop brown-nosing Linx.

  She looked toward me and her face became professional. “I’ve brought my book for you to browse, Ms. Lennon.”

  “I already know the dress I want.”

  Linx took the opportunity to walk past us, stopping to brush his lips lightly across my temple as he passed, before entering the bedroom, where the bathroom was located, and closing the double doors behind him.

  I admit that I’d cheated, having used my iPad to peruse Polyvore to save myself time. I found the perfect cream-colored dress by Phase Eight. I’d never heard of them, but the dress, ironically called the “Pollyanna Dress”, was the perfect cocktail wedding dress.

  It was sleeveless and would show off part of the tattoo on my back, but I didn’t care. The color, beads, and pearl details had sold me o
n it. That, and it wasn’t the least bit frou-frou. It would end just above my knees and was slightly longer in the back.

  “We actually have it in stock,” the shopper, whose name was Kelly, told me.

  “That’s great.” I smiled at her and stared back. “It should save us time.”

  She placed her creamy hand on my shoulder. “Listen, he gave you an unlimited budget. If you are going to go so cheap with the dress, then you should at least compensate with a pair of designer heels. Personally, I love Yves Saint Laurent and Christian Louboutin myself.”

  “Yep, I like these,” I said to her as I displayed on my iPad a silver-white pair of Christian Louboutin wrap high-heels. They had a modest four-inch heel, a half-inch platform and were peep-toe.

  “Those are perfect.” She smiled, though it never reached her eyes. “I’ll have the bell boy bring the items up to the room and we can get you dressed. Would you like me to order a matching bra and panty set from La Perla as well?”

  “Yes. That would be perfect.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Um, several pairs of jeans and some trendy tops. Also, can you get me a pair of black, Doc Marten combat boots, as well as another pair of heels in black?”

  “Sure. I will also take the liberty to order another cocktail dress for a nice dinner out, if you so choose. This way, you will be prepared for anything during your stay at our fabulous hotel.”

  “That sounds wonderful!” I exclaimed before I walked away and stood in front of the open, floor to ceiling glass windows. I heard Kelly leave, as the door to the suite opened and closed behind me, but didn’t turn around.

  The view was exquisite. I still couldn’t believe this was happening; I was about to marry Linx Carter and become a man’s wife. Not a tired-ass old lady—and yes, bikers did get married too—but a wife and step-mother with no true dysfunction in our lives.