Page 444 of Rock Me All Night
I bite my lip. Part of me is touched by his concern. The other part is terrified of a not-quite-boyfriend asserting control over any part of my life. "I'm sure you have good intentions, but I need you to back off about looking after me. That's how things started with Bradley. At first it was little things—don't wear that dress, don't stay out late after your swim meet, don't walk home by yourself at night—until it become big things. Skipping class. Ending friendships. Running off from my family."
"I won't push you, won't try to control you. But there's nothing you can say to convince me not to take care of you."
Okay. That part of me that's touched is winning. I nod.
The limo pulls to a stop. The driver's door slams open and shut. A few moments later, he pulls open our door and slides something into the backseat.
A pizza box. That was fast.
Tom pulls it open and tears off a slice and offers it to me. "You really should eat. You need your strength before I exhaust you."
I take the steaming slice. It's topped with broccoli, red peppers, and artichoke hearts. He got the whole pizza the way I like it.
Tom nods goodbye to the driver and takes a bite of a slice. "That's not as bad as I was expecting."
"It's good."
He peels off a piece of broccoli, tosses it in his mouth, chews and swallows. "It's decent."
I dig into my slice. It's better than good. It's fucking amazing. Cheesy and chewy and bursting with the rich flavor of red peppers. I talk with my mouth full. "It's great."
Tom pulls a packet of hot sauce from the box and tosses it to me.
Yes, pizza and hot sauce. I used to love eating pizza with hot sauce. It's been a million years since I've enjoyed a meal this much. It’s been a million years since I've enjoyed anything as much as I enjoy being around him.
I tear open the hot sauce and douse my slice in spice. "Thank you. For the pizza. And—"
"Don't worry about thanking me for the orgasms, kid. More than happy to oblige."
My cheeks flush.
"And there's more where that came from." He nods to my slice. "As soon as you're done eating."
* * *
Icomefour times in the limo. True to his word, Tom gets behind me, in front of me, under me, and on top of me. By the time we arrive at the airport, I'm completely out of energy. Thank goodness we don't have to go through security. Hanging out with a rock stars has its perks. The private jet is a new one.
It's amazing. Room for about ten people, big cushy seats, a widescreen TV with a massive collection of films. It's almost a shame that it's well past by bedtime.
The pilot, a slight man with a charming British accent, introduces himself with an apology for the delay, then gets into the cockpit. We're scheduled to depart in half an hour. Pete is yet to arrive but has sent word he's on his way.
I get cozy in a corner seat, ready to sleep until we land. But there's something about Tom's expression that won't allow me to relax. He's on edge. Worried. About his brother or about something else?
"You okay?" I ask.
"Yeah. Just... should have asked Pete where he was going. He wouldn't have told me, but... I was a little distracted."
"You really love him."
"He's my brother."
"That doesn't have to mean anything." I shift closer to Tom. "I don't love my parents. Not anymore."
His gaze goes to the window.
He must have been through a lot ending up in foster care. I want to know everything there is to know about Tom but I'm not sure either one of us is ready to go back to those dark places.
I change the subject to something easier to discuss. "How did we end up on a private jet?"
