Page 24 of Pretty Little Rocker

I liked that answer, but I didn’t want to like it. Damn it. “How many before me?”

Sparks didn’t even blink. “None.”

Oddly enough, I believed him. “So I’m the first?”

He kissed me again. “First and only,” he murmured. With his hand on my hip, he turned me toward the bank of elevators, the one he’d just exited still open. My heart rate began to race as the doors slid closed when he punched in the code for his floor.

“I’ll text you the code,” he promised when we began ascending. Turning, he backed me into the corner of the metal box, his hips pressing into me, trapping me. “Fucking missed you.”

I melted into him, kind of liking how sweaty he was. I wanted it on me, smeared across every inch of my body. Why I’d picked him to text to come fix the problem in the lobby, I wasn’t sure. His name hadn’t even been first on my list of recent callers. Ky and Jamie had rivaled each other in blowing up my phone in both calls and texts. Sparks had left me a few messages and voice mails, but nowhere close to the number the other two had bombarded me with.

“Sorry if I messed with your workout,” I told him.

“You didn’t, goddess. I’d been on the treadmill for over an hour already. Attempting to outrun the voice in my head to call you. Or track you down. Bring you back here. Tie you to my bed.” I shivered, not disliking any of those things. Apparently our moment together Thursday night had fried my circuits, and now I was ruined. And honestly, I didn’t think I cared.

“I’ve tried to give you the space you needed, but it’s been difficult.” He pressed his sweaty brow to mine. “For all of us.”

I traced my finger over a tattoo on his bicep. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t place the design. For a moment, I almost thought it was a gang tag, but I quickly pushed the thought away. Sparks lived in the penthouse of Carver Towers on Sunset Place. He was not in a gang.

Moments later, the doors opened onto the penthouse floor. Taking my hand, Sparks backed out of the elevator, guiding me to the door of the home he shared with Jamie and Ky. Placing his hand on a scanner, it took several seconds while it read his fingerprints before I heard the click of the locks releasing. But when Sparks put his hand on the door handle, I tensed.

“Are Jamie and Ky home?” I asked, not meeting his gaze.

“They went to dinner,” he said, stepping into the apartment. “I didn’t feel like going. Not sure when they’ll be back. Knowing those two, they might go to Malibu and stake out your house.”

A smile teased at my lips at that mental picture. I kind of wanted them to be doing that. Stalk me. Abi had turned into one over her professor. Which was unhinged in a sexy kind of way. But my emotions were in a jumble because I’d come there to be cuddled by all three of my men. Yet I was a little relieved that Jamie and Ky weren’t home. Jamie because he was so intense. Ky because, fuck, there were so many reasons that I wasn’t ready to wade through.

There was a part of me that was relieved and happy it was just Sparks and me. I wanted some alone time with him. With all of them, one-on-one. It felt right, but I wasn’t sure if that was allowed in a relationship like ours. If that was even what this was—a relationship. I wanted to be with all of them, but if I wanted time with only one of them for a little while, was that considered cheating on the other two?

Realizing I should have probably researched the rules of this type of relationship, I followed Sparks through the apartment to his room. He urged me to sit on his bed, before he pulled off his sweat-soaked shirt. Seeing his bare skin quickly pushed every other thought from my head. Without thinking, I reached out, tracing my fingers over his defined abs, the ink on his chest, the scar on his lower right abdomen.

“Appendix, when I was ten,” he explained in a raspy voice before gently taking hold of my wrist and guiding it down to wrap my fingers around his hard cock through his athletic shorts.

I stroked him once, twice, watching as his head fell back onto his shoulders while he groaned as if he were in pain.

“Let me shower, goddess,” he said, reluctantly pulling my hand away. “And then we can do whatever you want. Talk. Go to dinner. Watch a movie. Anything.”

“I came here because I missed you. All of you. But now I’m glad it’s just us.” I couldn’t drag my eyes away from the way his cock tented his shorts. “Is that wrong, Sparks? That I want to be with them, that I want there to be an us. All four of us. Together. But at the same time, I want to be alone with you. I want alone time with Jamie too. And Ky…” I shook my head in frustration. “I’m so confused.”

Sparks crouched down in front of me. “None of that is wrong. All we want is you. Your happiness, your pleasure, your…” He trailed off, giving me a grim smile. “Just you. We want to share everything with you, but we’re not going to get jealous if you want to be with just one of us for a little while. I know all of this is new to you. Honestly, we’re still wrapping our heads around this kind of relationship too. The past few times we tried it, we all stumbled. But that was because we weren’t with the right partner.”

“And you think I’m the right one?” Insecurity, something I wasn’t overly familiar with, laced my voice.

“I know you are, goddess.”

Chapter Fourteen

Jamie

Tossing back my third—or maybe it was my fourth—shot of tequila, I slapped the glass on the bar top and picked up the one the bartender had poured for Ky. My best friend grunted but just nodded at the guy behind the bar to pour us another round while I downed the liquor.

Maybe if I drank enough, the overwhelming need to hear Hayat’s voice would calm down. Maybe, just maybe, the ache in the pit of my stomach would ease, and I wouldn’t feel so fucking sick that she wasn’t close enough to touch.

Our Hellion had twisted me up to the point that I was turning into someone I promised myself I would never be. Of the group, I was the fun-loving one. The people-pleaser. The one who attempted to avoid conflict at all costs. But since Hayat had walked out of our apartment Thursday night, I’d been a growly, grumpy, pissed-the-fuck-off bear.

All I wanted was for her to pick up when I called or to respond to one of the hundreds of texts I’d sent. Let me know she was okay. Safe. Missing me like I missed her.

Instead, all she gave us was silence.

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