Traitorous Heart Page 2

  Everywhere we went Birdy was showered with affection and attention. Like The Attic. Our booth was the best in the club, close enough to the bar that the waitresses never forgot us, yet far enough away that when there was a line for drinks we weren’t in the way.

  During the week a DJ played remixes of the latest songs. On the weekends, the music was live. Sometimes the bands were amazing. Other times they sucked.

  “Guy told me the band tonight is awesome.” Birdy sipped her Jack and Coke.

  We were sitting next to each other, yet we still had to shout to be heard. “What’s their name?”

  “Crushed Velvet,” Birdy said.

  I took a drink of my vodka tonic. “Sounds like a seventies boy band.”

  Birdy laughed. “They didn’t have boy bands in the seventies.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Sure they did. I can think of five off the top of my head. Their clothes were even similar to what’s popular now.”

  The announcer cut off whatever Birdy was going to say.

  “Please put your hands together for Crushed Velvet!”

  Four guys walked on stage. One sat at the drums. Two picked up their guitars and one went to the keyboard. They wore the same basic attire: jeans and a white shirt. The drummer had on a tank. Both guitarists wore regular tee shirts. The keyboardist wore a crisp button down.

  Girls rushed to the front of the stage. They were already screaming.

  I looked at Birdy. She shrugged. From our booth we had a perfect view of the stage.

  The drummer started playing, then the guitars came in. The music wasn’t bad. After a while I wondered if someone was going to sing. Had the lead singer forgotten when to come in? It was hard to tell which one was supposed to be singing.

  After another eight count I glanced around the club. Everyone seemed to be waiting, perched on the edges of their seats. It made no sense.

  Until he walked on stage.

  If my panties could’ve dropped of their own volition, they would have.

  “Oh. My. God,” Birdy said. I was right there with her.

  He was shirtless, which was exactly how he should always remain. His body was perfection. Tattoos covered a lot of his body, including his left shoulder and down his arm to his elbow. Lust surged through my body. I wanted to trace each one of his tattoos with my tongue.

  He looked tall. His brown hair came to just above his shoulders. His bangs kept falling in his eyes. His broad shoulders were muscled, his posture like a piano player’s, and his abs and chest… good God. They looked fake. Magnificent. At each hip were slight indentions, like arrows directing me to want what was beneath his jeans. Those were tattered and sat low, allowing visual access to another tattoo and the strip of hair that started just under his belly button and went… there. I shuddered at what was there. He was also barefoot.

  He scanned the crowd and smiled. “How’s everybody doing tonight?”

  The crowd cheered their response.

  “This song is about fucking and how great it is.”

  The crowd’s scream got louder.

  “It’s called All In.” Then he started to sing.

  My panties no longer needed to drop because they’d melted off. I’d never had such a physical reaction to a person before. But the way he held the microphone, the way his lips moved when he sang, the way he moved on the stage, like a tiger ready to pounce.

  The next thirty minutes went by in a blur. The waitress brought fresh drinks. Birdy occasionally said something. I barely acknowledged her. When the band’s set was over I thought my heart would break.

  “Shit, Katie. You’re smitten.” Birdy laughed.

  I shook my head, trying to clear the lust coursing through my body. “He’s amazing.” The words came out before I had the chance to censor them.

  “He’s hot, and I swear there’s a tattoo across his chest that says fuck me, Birdy.”

  “No. You’ve got the name all wrong. It says Katie, not Birdy.”

  She giggled.

  I gulped down the rest of my drink and stood. “I’m going out for a smoke. Wanna come?”

  “No.” She scrunched her nose in disgust. “Dude, that is so two thousand and ten. When are you going to give those things up?”

  I shrugged. “It’s only when I drink. I’ll be back.” I pushed my way through the crowd, but it was slow going. Everyone was talking about the lead singer of Crushed Velvet. By the time I reached the exit for the smokers, I knew his name was Griffin Maxwell. He was ridiculously wealthy and a total player.

  Figured, I thought, glad to have discovered a chink in his rock god status.

  I pushed open the doors and walked to the edge. The New York skyline was beautiful. I leaned against the solid concrete wall and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of my purse. Took one from the box, lit it, and inhaled deeply.

  “Mind if I bum one of those?”

  CHAPTER 5

  GRIFFIN

  Ourfirst set had been okay. The girls lining the stage were gorgeous and eager, as always. Afterward I’d chosen one of the blondes from the crowd. I think she’d said her name was Mimi. It didn’t matter.

  We fucked, and then she’d gone on her way with my promise to call, which of course wouldn’t happen.

  Truthfully I didn’t think they wanted my phone call. They used me as much as I used them. It was a mutually beneficial and enjoyable arrangement. No strings.

  The second set I hadn’t been feeling it and I almost decided not to go on stage. Between my father’s threat and the pressure to succeed, I nearly called it quits right then and there. But I couldn’t resist the lull of the screaming fans and the sound of the music. My music.

  So I walked on stage. And damn I was glad I did.

  Above the crowd and back a ways were two girls—women, actually. They were seated at the VIP booth. The blonde would’ve been my first choice. She had the hair, the body, and the face. But the girl next to her, while smaller in stature, seemed larger than life. I wasn’t sure if it was the bright lights beating into my eyes or the three shots I’d consumed…

  Or maybe it was the way she looked at me, like there was no one else on Earth. Throughout the whole set she watched me sing. She didn’t scream or get goofy. She wasn’t silly or slutty. She seemed interested, entertained. Watching her watch me was amazing.

  She was dressed to kill though in a white halter and a skirt so short I thought if I tried I’d be able to see all the way up. Despite the clothes, she seemed classy. Maybe it was the way she sat, her back straight and her hands in her lap. I didn’t know. Didn’t care. Her lips were full and red and seemed to call to me, begging me to kiss them. God, I wanted to. I wanted to taste her, trace my lips along her jaw, down her neck and into her perfect cleavage. I wanted to take off that shirt slowly, like opening a present, and kiss every inch of her.

  The entire thirty minutes on stage I imagined what I would do to her. By the time I finished I knew I’d find a way to make her mine—at least for the night.

  When the set was over I walked off stage and set out trying to get to her. It was slow going. When I reached her booth she was gone. Her friend seemed to know what I was after and pointed toward the smoker’s exit.

  I pushed my way through the crowd and out the door.

  The night had a slight chill. I found her right away. She was alone, staring out into the night. Her arms were cold and I wished I had a jacket to give her. There was always my shirt. I’d put one on, but left it unbuttoned.

  “Mind if I bum one of those?” I asked, keeping my voice low. Sultry was the way girls described it.

  She seemed to freeze, the cigarette in her mouth. Her fingers coiled around the lighter. She turned and I swear my heart stopped beating.

  “Sure.” She shook a cigarette out of the box. Her voice was sexy. Not to high, not too low. Her teeth were straight and white. Her skin was smooth and her eyes—God, they were like twin pools of aquamarine. I wanted to dive in, lose myself in them. I figured I’d be happy if I n
ever came up for air.

  When I put the cigarette to my lips, she licked hers and I felt my cock move. I was grateful for the button down shirt.

  “You caught the set?” I asked, lighting and inhaling.

  “I did.” If the sexual tension between us wasn’t so damn strong I might’ve believed she was a cold-hearted bitch or a lesbian. She didn’t lean in, didn’t step closer. She stood stock still, as though waiting. Uninterested.

  “What did you think?” I took another drag, turned my face slightly so I didn’t blow smoke in her face.

  She cracked a smile and my heart raced faster. “It was good.” She looked down at my bare feet. “You don’t believe in shoes?”

  I chuckled, seriously wishing I’d put my shoes on. The ground was fucking freezing. But I had to play it cool. “Nah, they’re too confining.” I glanced at hers. She wore black heels, probably four or five inches high. Her manicured toes peeked through the openings. There was a strap encrusted in what looked like diamonds that went across her ankles and buckled. Very dainty. Very expensive-looking. “Like those shoes. Aren’t your feet killing you?”

  She shrugged. “Not really.”

  I could tell she was lying. “You cold?” I went to pull off my shirt and she reached out her hand. Her fingers were small and thin. On her ring finger was a giant rock: an engagement ring. “Oh,” I said, feeling my heart deflate. “Damn, that’s too bad.” It really wasn’t. I’d fucked committed women before, but with her, it was disappointing.

  She seemed momentarily confused, then noticed the rock. She looked as surprised to see it on her finger as I was. Maybe there was still some hope. Maybe the engagement wasn’t what she wanted.

  She straightened. “Yeah, well, I’m sure there are fifty willing and able female bodies inside.” Her words came out with bite and I thought I heard a hint of wistfulness.

  It wasn’t over until she said no. I stuck out my hand. “I’m Griffin. If you change your mind, come find me.”

  “I will.” She dropped her cigarette, smashed it into the concrete with the toe of her shoe, and walked toward the door.

  “What’s your name?” I asked. It was difficult for me to wrap my brain around how challenging it was to get any information out of her. By now even married women had their asses pressed against my cock.

  “Katie.” She pulled open the door and went inside.

  CHAPTER 6

  KATIE

  My knees were weak and my heart wouldn’t stop pounding. He was even better looking up close. Even sexier. He’d been wearing a shirt, but I could still see the tattoo near the waistband of his pants. His eyes were like the sky after and thunderstorm.

  When I made it back to the table, Birdy was there talking to a guy in the band. The drummer, I thought. I fell into my chair.

  Birdy smirked. “Where’s Griffin?”

  I shrugged, trying to act calm. “No idea.”

  The drummer and Birdy exchanged a look.

  “Nothing happened. I’m engaged.” I held out my hand so that the drummer could see my ring.

  It was his turn to shrug. “Hasn’t ever mattered in the past.”

  “Katie isn’t like that, though,” Birdy said, playing with the soft scruff of hair poking from the shirt at his chest. “She’s loyal, brave and true.” She giggled. I realized she was drunk. “Isn’t that like the scout code or something?” She giggled again. “You’re like a boy scout, except you’re a girl.” She pointed at me. “You’re a girl scout, Kitty Kat.”

  Definitely drunk. That was the only time she called me that.

  The waitress came. “Can I get you anything?” She kept glancing at the drummer.

  “I’ll have a shot of tequila.” I leaned against the booth. “Make it two.”

  Birdy clapped. “Kitty Kat is going to catch up. Yay!”

  I snorted. “Damn straight.”

  “Anything for you?” This time the waitress’s question was directed at the drummer.

  “I’ll take a lime seltzer water.”

  Birdy twisted a finger in her curls. “Not a drinker?” she asked him.

  “Not when I’m working.” He smiled. “But later I’ll get wasted.” He stood.

  “It’s a date,” Birdy shouted.

  He winked and took off into the crowd.

  The waitress brought my shots and two lemon slices along with a shaker of salt. I licked my wrist, sprinkled some salt on it, licked it, lifted the shot, and drank. Then I picked up the lemon wedge, stuck it in my mouth and sucked. “Delicious.” I reached for the second one.

  “Hey, isn’t that Reid?” Birdy asked. I followed the direction she pointed through the crowd to a table way on the other side of the room. A blond female straddled him, her face in his neck. His eyes were closed, his hands on her hips. The girl was gyrating in his lap.

  “Holy fuck. It can’t be.” I stood, my shot forgotten, and made my way toward the man that looked like Reid. The closer I got, the more sure I became that it was him. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  I stopped on the other side of his table. “Reid,” I shouted.

  His eyes flew open. “Katie.” He pushed the girl off his lap and stood. He had a boner. It pressed against his pants. “What are you doing here?”

  “The bigger question is what the fuck are you doing here? You told me you were out of town until Tuesday.” I felt myself falling apart. All of my carefully laid plans unraveling. No job. And now no fiancé.

  “Hey babe, I was just having some fun. No harm done.” He came around the table and reached out, but I backed away.

  “Really? That isn’t what it looks like to me.” Anger and betrayal forced my words out louder than I planned. Several people around us stopped what they were doing and watched. Like a car wreck, they couldn’t look away.

  Reid’s face got furious. “Look, Katie. You and I aren’t married yet.” Then he smiled, sat back down, and pulled the girl back onto his lap. “Don’t put the shackles on me yet.”

  “Stupid mother fucker.” I pulled off the ring and threw it at him. It smacked him in the face, on his right cheek. It hit him so hard blood sprang up where the diamond had cut into him. “Don’t you ever come near me again.”

  There was shock on his face, like he was surprised I’d reacted the way I did. Who the fuck did he think he was?

  I stomped back to the table. Birdy was talking to another random guy.

  “I’m so fucking done.”

  Birdy smiled. “You give that prick back his ring?”

  I nodded, too choked up to speak.

  “About damn time.”

  I swallowed, gasping for air. The room seemed too closed in. There were too many people.

  “Slam that shot and relax. Your life is going to be a whole lot happier now that Reid isn’t in it.” She pulled me down next to her. “Hey, you with me?”

  I glanced over at Reid. He was watching me while the girl continued to move in his lap.

  “Fuck. You,” he mouthed, flipping me off.

  I turned away and slammed the shot. It went down easily, much more easily than the whole scenario I’d just been a part of. I mean, what the fuck? It was Reid, my Reid. He’d always been sweet. Sure, there’d been the issue where he didn’t want to have sex, but I’d respected his wishes, not because I didn’t want to have sex with him, but because I thought that was what he wanted.

  It wasn’t like I’d never had sex. I had. It was before I met Reid and with a guy who was as inexperienced as I was. It’d been nice, something I wanted to keep doing. But I’d stopped once I met Reid. I was waiting for him, for our wedding night.

  “Is it me?” I asked, trying not to cry. “Is there something wrong with me?”

  “God, no.” Birdy patted me on the back and handed me the napkin from under her cocktail. I took it and blew. “He never deserved you. He’s always been a total prick.”

  I checked her expression. She didn’t seem as drunk any longer. There was something she wasn’t telling me. Something she knew but
hadn’t shared.

  “I’ve got to get out of here.” I stood.

  Birdy pulled out her phone. “I’m texting the driver. Let Vern take you home, okay?”

  I nodded.

  She hugged me. “Love you, Kitty Kat. Sleep it off. Everything will look better in the morning.”

  I walked toward the exit, took the elevator down, and walked outside. There was a long line of people still waiting to get it. A limo pulled up and Vern got out. “You ready, Miss Jayne?” He opened the door for me.

  “Katie?”

  I knew that sexy voice and turned. Griffin smiled. He had his shirt buttoned. It was tucked into his pants and he was wearing shoes. They looked like boots. His hair was out of his eyes and they twinkled. I was about to ignore him when I saw Reid walk out of the club. He still wore that stupid fucking smirk. I needed to wipe it off his face.

  I plastered a smile on and waved Griffin over. When he was still a few feet away, I asked, “Can I still take you up on your offer?” My eyes kept going back and forth between him and Reid. I begged Griffin with my eyes to say yes. I couldn’t be rejected right now.

  He glanced behind him, turned back. “You okay?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I just need …” I wanted to say a good fuck, but I didn’t want to sound crass. “Some company,” I finished.

  He nodded. “I could use some of that too.”

  I hugged him, beyond grateful for his agreeing. He smelled like cigarettes and tequila and whatever soap he used. He smelled good. “Thank you.”

  CHAPTER 7

  GRIFFIN

  I watched the exchange between Katie and Reid from my table above the bar. It was hidden. Not many people knew about the space up there. It made for some privacy when I wanted to be alone with a girl, or me and the band just wanted to hang out.

  When Katie chucked the ring at Reid I realized he was the guy she was engaged to. Not fucking Reid. I wanted to beat the asshole to a pulp. Why hadn’t anyone told her what kind of a man he was? Birdy had been part of our group growing up. We’d partied together in high school. She knew first hand how awful Reid was. So why hadn’t she said something?