Page 25 of Breaking Free (Guarded Hearts)
“Turn over.” I lie on my stomach as Drew’s hand wraps around my hips. He’s pulling me up, so I lift myself up on my hands and knees. “No.” He pushes my upper back toward the bed. “Head down, ass up.”
His hand wraps around my hair and he starts driving in and out of me. His free hand holds my hip to keep me steady. I explode around him, my body convulsing from the force of my orgasm. If he wasn’t keeping me steady I would fall to the bed like the pile of Jell-O that I am right now.
Drew drives into me a few more times before groaning what sounds like my name mixed with numerous curse words. We collapse on the bed together. “That was worth your game of twenty questions.”
* * *
I wake up to see the sun shining through the enormous windows in Drew’s room. When I look around, I don’t see him anywhere. I do hear a lot of voices downstairs, though.It’s a Saturday morning, what the hell are so many people doing here?I get up with every intention of getting dressed, but realize my clothes never made it upstairs. Walking over to Drew’s dresser, I grab a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with his band’s name on it.
As I walk down the stairs, I see people coming and going through the house. I feel so out of place, confused, and lost. If I’m going to make it in Drew Walker’s world, I amdefinitelygoing to need some coffee first. The people who pass me barely even notice I’m there, one guy even steps on my foot.Coffee, just focus on coffee and everything will get better after that.I’m surprised to see Drew in the kitchen pouring a cup of the ambrosia I had been searching for.
“Want some?”
The look in his eye tells me he is referring to more than coffee, but right nowthat’snot happening. I sit down on one of the stools at his counter. “Yes, please. Sugar and milk if you have it.” He places the cup in front of me before taking the seat next to me. “So, is your housealwaysthis busy?”
He laughs. “Fuck no. My publicist sent them all over because she is freaking out about that thing we are going to tomorrow. I didn’t even bother to go to it last year and everyone got really pissy. Now I’m going and everyone isstillnuts.”
“You never told me where we’re going.” I’m hoping it’s somewhere calm and casual.
“The Grammy’s.”
I spit my coffee out all over him. His white t-shirt is now splattered with brown stains but I don’t give a shit right now. “I’m sorry, what?!”
“What’s the big deal?” he says as he’s trying to dry himself off with a paper towel.
What’s the big deal?! Is he that moronic?“It’s the Grammy’s! You never said that! I assumed it was a party or something.” He just shrugs his shoulders. I swear to God men are the most idiotic, insensitive, and did I mention idiotic species on the damn planet!
“Whatever, the only reason I’m even going this year is because the label threw a bitch fit when I skipped it last year.”
Skipped out on the Grammy’s? Who the hell does that?I can’t even respond to the idiocy he is spewing right now. He lets me look dumbfounded for a few minutes, then gets up, kisses me on the forehead like a confused child, and goes to walk away. “Drew, wait, I don’t think I can go. This is huge. I don’t know if I’m ready.”
He walks over to me and places his hands on my hips. I look up at him, and somehow, looking into his eyes almost calms my out of control emotions. “You will be fine. You’re fucking gorgeous, James. They could put you in a damn trash bag and you would still blow everyone else away.” He kisses my lips and I sigh. “Trust me, though, you will be in something much more expensive than a trash bag.”
Drew walks out of the kitchen and I grasp the countertop next to me so I can steady myself. A woman who seems like she might be a few years older comes up to me. “Hi, I’m Felicia. Are you ready for your beauty consultation?”
Um what? “I’m sorry, my what?”
“Your beauty consultation. We need to plan your look for tomorrow.”
Jesus. I scrub my face with my hands and take a page out of Drew’s book. “Let’s get this shit done.”Real classy, Holly.
Her eyes grow big at my expression but she follows me as I exit the kitchen. I spend the next TWO HOURS talking about different hair styles that might make my face look fat or odd shaped, eye shadow colors that will make me have bug eyes, and lip colors that might make me look like a fish. My head is about to burst from all of this and all I want to do is run for the damn hills.
“Hey, is she almost done here?” I look up to find a man standing in front of me. Felicia informs him they are through with me until tomorrow. Thank God. I look at this new guy and assess what type of torture he could have waiting for me. “I’m Lance. C’mon, sweet cheeks, let’s find you a dress.” He winks at me.
I follow him into what looks like it used to be an office. There are racks everywhere filled with dresses that probably cost more than my dad’s house. “Okay, let’s try this one first.” He holds a fire engine red dress out to me. I take it and wait for him to leave, but he just turns around and continues to peruse through the other options.
“Aren’t you going to leave while I put it on?”
He chuckles. “Honey, if you find it necessary I can, but unless you’re packing, I ain’t interested in seeing what’s under your clothes.”
My mouth hangs open as he turns back to the racks. My only thought as I start to get changed is that I need to run away and never come back. I finally get the dress on to find that I, according Lance, look like a five-dollar hooker. The blue one makes me look like a bird. The yellow one makes me look like a puddle of piss. The silver one makes me look like a disco ball. I don’t even want to repeat the feedback on the brown one.
Lance hesitantly turns around and I flinch at whatever words are about to fly out of his mouth. “Nowyou look Grammy ready, babe.”
I smile and turn around to look in the stand-up mirror he set up by the door. I have on a black halter dress that shimmers from head to toe. The V of the dress dips about two inches past my boobs, and it flows down to the floor with a small train behind me. The only thing that worries me is that my boobs might fall out. “Um, what happens if I have a wardrobe malfunction?”
Lance comes up behind me smiling. “Sweetheart, that’s why God made double sided tape.” Before I know what’s happening, his hands are down the front of my dress adjusting my boobs, and I flinch at the contact. I’m grateful that he isn’t looking in the mirror and seeing my pained face from his contact.
