Edging Obsession

6

J ules is taken in by the celebrities who pass us, some even stopping to say hello. A couple of bold women shake my hand and kiss it, ignoring the fact my other arm is around Jules. It makes her uncomfortable as she glances the other way. I squeeze her closer, and she turns, offering me a smile. A smile that will haunt me when we’re apart. She’s rare like a white peacock—a stunning creature. Although I mention her outer beauty, it’s also the way she’s taken to me, while at the same time, I’ve taken to her. An unexplainable lure, which hasn’t retreated.

My bodyguards are dispersed around the room. Four to be exact. It still doesn’t stop me from being vigilant. Through text messages, my brother continues to warn me about a possible attack, while I repeatedly tell him to calm down. But now that Jules is at my side, I’m on high alert, as are my bodyguards. Scanning each person crowding the walkway, I haven’t seen anything out of place, but it’s the unexpected I should keep a critical eye on.

Within the darkened room, it’s difficult to follow the people who are rushing to meet up with their group on the other side. I’m edgy. We can’t just grab whoever appears to be a threat, so the wait, the constant sifting of people, builds the tension. A woman’s eyes shift between Jules and I, then her head falls back in laughter. By the door, a couple dressed to the hilt survey the area, eyes landing on me, wandering to the place across from us. I give a chin nod toward the couple, and Hendrick locates and maneuvers closer.

So concerned about the couple, I missed the obvious. The man wearing a black coat with his hand in his pocket. Amateur, yet effective. I didn’t pay much attention to him until the gun is fixed on Jules. My Jules! My treasure! Someone sees the light glinting off the gun and screams. As soon as one person runs and shouts gun , the rest scurry like ants. Jules’ curdling shriek has me pushing her down behind the table, landing on top of her, except I’m clipped twice in the shoulder. There’s chaos, guns going off, and I rise to see my bodyguards taking him down.

I shout, “Bringt ihn ins Lagerhaus!” ( Get him to the warehouse now!)

Jules is crying and when she sees the blood she becomes hysterical.

“Calm down, Jules.”

She pats her body. “Blood! Am I shot?”

Her eyes drift from mine to my shoulder. In the shadowed room, it’s difficult to see the blood on my black T-shirt. Top lights flicker on, blinding us for a moment, and then she sees it. Her shaky hand touches my shoulder. A barrage of tears blinds her.

“I’m fine, but we have to get out of here.”

I stand and pull her into me. She stares at the blood. Our bodies turn as one toward the back exit door. I’m practically carrying her against my front because she’s so shocked by what happened.

Outside, we get into a waiting car, and I instruct them to bring me to the hospital. The bodyguards exchange a look but say nothing.

As we’re headed there, I ask, “Did any of our guys get hurt?”

They shake their heads, and I let out a breath, holding Jules close as she cries. Tremors pump throughout her body. When we arrive, I get out, Jules behind me, and a staff member ushers me into a room, avoiding the ER waiting area. Hendrick called ahead to make sure I get private, prompt treatment. A doctor enters the room, ordering me onto the bed while Jules refuses to let go of my hand.

“I’m Dr. Billings.” He begins to cut my T-shirt off. “What happened?”

“Some guy pulled a gun at a club. We hit the ground, but the shooter got me on the way down.”

Dr. Billings positions a light over my shoulder. “It’s a flesh wound, but you’ll need stitches. I’ll have a nurse stitch you up.” I nod and he leaves.

“Jules. Go with my bodyguards. They’ll—”

The sobbing continues and her body hasn’t expelled the shudders. She tightens her hold on my hand.

Her cracked voice whispers, “No.” She shakes her head, wipes her face, except it doesn’t do any good. The tears fall faster than she can remove them. Her voice splinters. “I want to stay. Please—”

I pull her onto the bed to sit next to me. After a moment, her body releases some tension. Head resting on my right shoulder, hand on my chest, she closes her eyes.

Not long after, a nurse comes in and asks Jules to get up, but I cut in and say, “She’s fine. She’s not in the way.”

Remaining mute, the nurse laces the skin together for my two wounds, hands me some pills, and we drive back to the hotel.

In the room, I suggest Jules relax and take a bath while I remain in the living area to talk to my bodyguards. I remove the magazine from my gun, check the chamber, and pop the magazine back in.

Leaving the gun on the table, I walk over to the windows, not looking at anything in particular. “How the fuck did we miss this guy?”

The crew looks at Hendrick, my close friend and bodyguard to respond. “Matthias, we were all looking for someone more discreet. We didn’t know the guy would be so blatant in his attempt.”

I turn to him and hiss, “How many times do I have to tell you it’s Miles when we’re in the States?” My pacing begins. “My brother told me the Turkish clan is putting pressure on us. Is he part of the clan?”

“We don’t know.”

My voice rises with every word. “Was he sending a message by trying to shoot Jules?”

“Again, we’re not sure.”

His lack of answers pisses me off. I abruptly stop, hands on my hips, and shout, “What do you know?”

“Matthias—I mean, Miles this just happened. We haven’t had time to get information out of him. You were our main concern.”

I scratch my beard. “And Jules. She’s also your main concern.” He nods. I run my hands through my hair and then I wave to dismiss the conversation. “Forget it. We have him.” My eyes fall on Hendrick. “We do still have him, right?”

“Yes. He’s at the warehouse.”

“Good. If he gets out of line, do whatever’s necessary to keep him quiet, short of killing him. Leave that to me. I’ll be there tomorrow.” I walk toward the bedroom, and shout over my shoulder, “We’re done.”

Without another word, they file out, and I find Jules wrapped in a robe under the covers. Her eyes flutter open, and she observes me. I grab my phone and shoot off a text to our manager Lee, letting him know we’re fine, and in return, he informs me the rest of the band is unharmed. The cops have contacted him to find me, but Lee worked it out where they don’t need my involvement. Plus, from what he’s told me, they’re dumbfounded about the disappearance of the shooter, which is good. They have no idea we snatched him.

My eyes take in my bundled treasure, her hair fanning around the pillow as I strip down and head into the shower. I lean my shoulder away from the showerhead, soaping and rinsing, the blood swirling down the drain. After drying off, I toss the towel on the floor.

I climb on top of Jules with all my bodyweight. Her hand slides out from under the covers and lightly touches the bandages covering my stitches.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not much.”

I plant kisses around her face and on her mouth. All the excitement and seeing Jules’ concerned eyes has made me hard. I’m used to the danger and violence, yet I want her to feel safe. She shifts under me, so I rise to let her remove the robe while I roll the covers away, allowing nothing between us.

Cupping her face, she rests her hands on my biceps. Her voice comes out as if battling a forest fire. “Miles.” My eyes lock on hers. “Why did he want to shoot me?” I shake my head. “Who is he?” Another shake. It’s best to keep her in the dark regarding the shooter and motive.

Jules bites her bottom lip, brushes her fingers up to my shoulders, and back to my biceps. “I want to forget what happened tonight.” Her hands slide to my ass, drawing circles on each cheek, and moving to my back. “To clear my mind of everything.”

My hand digs into the side table drawer and I bite open the condom wrapper. Once on, my knee bends to the side, spreading her legs wider. I dip my pelvis upwards, sliding the head of my cock between her slit. She lets out a moan.

“Fuck me hard.”

In one motion, I thrust inside her, pulling out to the tip, and slamming back in. Her breath snags and then she lets out a cry.

Tears drip down her temples. She leaves open mouth kisses along my neck and shoulder. Her lips remain against my skin as she says, “Pain. I need pain to numb everything else.”

I don’t waste time. My cock pounds into her with fury. Jules’ pussy sucks me in and our juices trickle onto the bed. I flip her onto her stomach, bring her ass up, and press her upper back into the mattress. Using her hips as leverage, I spear my dick into her as I land deep inside at a rapid speed. Over and over, I bottom out and she cries, twisting the sheets. Her ass jiggles and I smack each cheek hard, reddening them until they’re ripe tomatoes. She shouts out my name when an orgasm carries her away, but I continue my onslaught of thrusts and smacks. Minutes later, my release builds, so I shove all the way in and hold her hips steady as I come. I smack her ass cheeks one more time, pull out, and toss the condom in the garbage.

On my back, Jules scoots over and curls into my sweaty side. Our breathing returns to normal and she draws circles over her ass cheeks.

“You okay, Jules?”

Her hand returns to my chest. “Yes. I’ve never had rough sex or had my ass smacked.” She angles her neck back to look at me. “It hurt…bad. When you hit my cervix, I thought I was going to throw up. After a while, it became numb. My ass still burns.”

“You wanted pain.”

Jules gives a timid smile and tucks her head back down. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it. It took my mind off everything.” She slithers on top of me, and I knead her ass as she hisses. “It’s on fire.”

“Think of it as the punctuation of sex.”

On my chest, she rests her chin on her hands. “Well, every slap was punctual.”

We regard one another. No words, only eyes. Jules has settled and forgotten about the shooting. At least for now. I tuck some hair behind her ear, and she does the same to me. Both of us smile, something I don’t often do, except Jules has this effect on me. She shifts higher until our eyes are level.

Her fingertip traces my lips. “In certain situations, your eyes darken.” I don’t respond. “They’re normally a raw honey-colored and darken into a tootsie roll.”

“A tootsie roll.”

I tickle her side and stop when she catches my hand. Jules pecks my lips, moves down, and rests her head on my chest. Not long after, her breaths even out. My arms bind her, and I turn us onto our sides. One last inhale of Jules’ hair, and I fall asleep, draped around her.