Overwhelmed by You Read online

Brett put my vodka down in front of me. “You good, Kat?”

  I nodded.

  Ream’s fingers curled around my wrist when I went to pick up the glass. My eyes shot to his. “Hands off, asshole.”

  He kept his hand locked on me, eyes delving into me and I shifted uncomfortably beneath his stare. It was unsettling and I rarely felt that way, but Ream … there was something inside him that scared me. Not like he’d physically hurt me, and emotionally he’d already done that, but it was something else. A darkness that lay hidden beneath the surface. Well, I didn’t need his shit in my life; I had plenty of my own.

  “You’ve had enough. I’m taking you to the condo. We’ll talk there.”

  Maybe I had, but it wasn’t any of his business and I sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere with him. “There’s nothing to talk about.” No, he’d made damn sure of that. “We fucked. That’s all it was. Now let me go.”

  “Ream.” Brett’s warning cut through the tension and Ream let me go, but I could see by the way his jaw twitched that he was trying to contain himself.

  I picked up the shot glass and tossed it back, the liquid scorching my throat as it went down.

  “We had two weeks before we fucked.”

  Yeah and that was gone too. “Get lost, Ream.”

  “Fine, we’ll talk here,” he said then leaned in so his hands settled on either side of me on the bar stool. “I needed time to take it in, Kat.”

  “I don’t give a shit what you needed. It was a mistake. Now, why don’t you go find one of your groupies to fawn over you so I don’t lose my fuck for the night.” I could see the guy I was dancing with emerging from the hallway where the bathrooms were.

  “Not a chance, Kat. No fuckin’ way are you going home with that dick.”

  “Oh, you’d rather I’d go home with some pussy? Never done it, but I’m up for anything tonight.”

  “Stop. You’re not going with anyone except me.”

  “Hell no,” I said, shaking my head. “That tugboat chugged its way into the Amazon and was dragged under by a python two days ago.”

  He grabbed me by the upper arms, and for a second I was a little leery of him. “You really going to fuck that guy, Kat?”

  I put a hand on his chest, and the second I did, I regretted it. The butterflies lifted and the sweet ache between my legs rose. I pushed him back so I could get up, then snagged my beer off the bar. “Yeah. I am. Just like I fucked you. Now stay the hell away from me, Ream.”

  I walked away, weaving my way through the crowd, feeling the burn of Ream’s gaze on my back. There was one second that I hesitated wondering if I was doing the right thing, but then it was gone. I grabbed the guy I’d been dancing with by the front of the shirt and pulled him into me. I tilted my head and kissed him.

  ***

  Kat

  Two years, eight months later.

  The prickling down my legs and across my stomach really pissed me off. I knew the familiar sensations were a reaction to the impending arrival of the band after their eight month tour.

  Well, it was only one band member that was the cause, and I hadn’t seen the asshole since he brought some chick to my welcome home party from the hospital eight months ago—after being shot by a sex trafficking psycho who was after Emily. I think it was at that moment I realized Ream was my poison. The toxin flowing through my veins consumed all the fight I had left in me when it came to Ream Dedrick.

  And that night I felt defeated by him. I had nothing left. I think he recognized that when he looked at me from across the table. The usual rage lingering within the depths of his eyes had been replaced with … concern. I couldn’t figure out why, considering he’d never visited me in the hospital. No, the asshole took off the moment the doc said I was out of danger.

  But even after that, my breath still hitched when I saw him. My stomach dropped like I was leaping off a cliff into a pool of water. When he looked at me it was all consuming, as if I was his marionette and he could do as he pleased with me. I kept my emotions on a short leash, but with Ream … he set parts of me free. I’d imagined what it would have been like if he’d never found my needle; if I’d never told him.

  But I did. And maybe it was better to discover he was an asshole before I got in deeper with him. Ha, deeper with Ream could’ve been one more night and then he’d have ended it anyway.

  His attempt to talk to me again the night I arrived home from the hospital. Well, I was like a kid and ignored him, pretended he didn’t exist. Ream didn’t take well to being ignored and cornered me against the fridge when everyone was outside on the deck. Maybe I hadn’t been completely defeated by him because I hauled off and slapped him across the face.

  He’d been so shocked … that look … it was haunting.

  For eight months now I’d lived with that look tiptoeing through my dreams like a dark shadow. Popping out when I least expected it. Month after month passed, and I kept thinking about it. Had I seen that look in his eyes before? Had I been so angry at him that I couldn’t see past it until the moment I felt the impact of my hand against his cheek? It was like I’d struck myself. I cracked open and saw what I’d been missing all this time—his torment hidden beneath all that anger.

  Ream walked out after that. The sting of my hand still burning. He never said another word. He just strode out the front door.

  And now, eight months later, he was about to walk back in.

  Emily texted me a few weeks ago letting me know the band was coming back to stay at the farm, including Ream. I thought it would be fine, that it wouldn’t affect me, but the truth was that Ream would always affect me in some capacity.

  No matter what other flavors of ice-cream were at your table, if your favorite sat among them, it was nearly impossible to avoid tasting. Your body controlled your reactions, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

  “So, Banana Cake, you decide what you’re going to do about Ream?” Georgie took a bite out of her apple and juice slid from the corner of her mouth. Her tongue darted out and licked the remnants, then she winked at me. “There’s some serious tension between you, and now with Lance … I vote sit on his face and make him lick you until he’s begging for mercy and end this shit between you.”

  I shot her a nasty bitch glare. She knew damn well that mentioning Ream licking any part of me would awaken the dormant desire I’d buried for the last two years and eight months since we’d slept together. Well, tried to bury. I hadn’t been able to go past first base with a single guy since Ream. Pathetic. Thank God Ream didn’t know that, and I’d made sure he thought otherwise. I wouldn’t be thought of as some weak, vulnerable chick he put his dick into.

  I retorted, “Deck haul your drunk ass out of Avalanche lately?” Deck, scary JTF2 commando guy, constantly dragged Georgie out of her latest drinking incident. He protected her like she was some glass figurine. Georgie was anything but glass, more like rubber because she always bounced back from whatever shit she got herself into.

  “Nope. Left three days ago, thank fuck. I was getting tired of buying batteries for my vibrator.”

  I choked on my soda water, and a fine spray escaped my mouth. “What? I didn’t think you liked him? I mean—at all. You’re always bitching about him.”

  Georgie took another bite then tossed the core into the disposal. “Don’t need to like a guy to get off on him. You see what’s between his legs?”

  “Actually, no.”

  “Well, look next time. Besides, it’s dry season. Haven’t seen a hot, fuckable guy in months. Well, except maybe Lance and he’s out of bounds, stupid girl-rule and all.”

  Like Georgie would ever try and shag a guy I was dating. Shit, I wasn’t even sure Georgie had ever had sex with a guy. I mean she talked like she did, acted like she did, but she’d never had a boyfriend, and her mouthing off about sex was never anything but that … mouthing off. If she was sleeping with random guys, Emily and I sure as hell didn’t know about it.

  “Your new guy is something edib
le, fuckable … all of the above. But Deck is my go to man. Strictly fantasy of course.”

  “Of course.” I nodded. I had enough fantasies of my own to write a book, and that book needed burning because it contained only one guy. “So why not sleep with him?” I saw the way Deck looked at her; there was something there besides his oath to her brother to watch over her. Riot, her brother’s call name in the JTF2, had died years ago when he and Deck were on a mission in Afghanistan. Deck left JTF2, the Canadian counterterrorism unit, after that and started his own business. I wasn’t sure what it entailed except undercover dangerous shit.

  Georgie hesitated for a second, and I caught a brief flash of uncertainty. Then it was gone and she was all attitude again. “Because Deck is no fun. He’s a fusspot for rules. I bet he has rules on how to fuck … yeah, no thank you. Missionary isn’t my thing. I’ll stick to my fantasy Deck.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. Deck was intense, quiet, controlling, and mysterious. I was guessing the guy was the same way in bed, and that was hot. Ream was that way. He was all that and more.

  It was a shock to discover and maybe that’s what ruined me for all the other flavors because dammit, I still felt his body on top of mine, his cock inside of me, and the unrelenting sweetness of his mouth on my lips. I pictured him standing in the kitchen making dinner. I felt his hands around me as he dragged me out from beneath the tractor and remembered the look in his eyes, the frown on his face as if he’d been concerned for my safety.

  Shit, I’d read so much into it, and I knew better. I should’ve never slept with him. He was a lead guitarist in a rock band; that was enough of a fluorescent warning sign. But I thought I could just do sex and go back to being friends. And it may have worked if it hadn’t all blown up in my face.

  I didn’t need a friend like that anyway. The problem was I was constantly thrown in Ream’s path and it was utterly pitiful. Because Ream had hurt me. He ran out on me the moment he didn’t like what he heard and then had the nerve to come back two days later to try and fix it … yeah, I didn’t do fix. I had no time in my life for mending anything, and second chances didn’t exist in my books.

  Since then, we were constantly trying to hurt one another, and even if we had an entire army rebuilding the bridge between us, there wasn’t enough foundation to hold it.

  “They’re here,” Georgie squealed then grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the front door. “Come on, buckle up. Make him wish he could taste that pussy tonight.” My nerves were going haywire and I couldn’t get away with hiding the fact that I was unsteady, so I stopped at the doorway and leaned against the frame. Georgie scoffed. “Chicken.” She made her brows do a happy dance. “I’m thinking Crisis might end my dry spell. A smart-assed, cocky cock between the legs—like yummy sour keys.”

  I knew Crisis wouldn’t be stupid enough to fuck Georgie; that would be like going up to Deck and spitting in his face. Not happening unless you wanted to be beaten into the ground and live next to the slugs.

  Dread hit me as the sound of gravel crunching beneath the weight of the sleek BMW grew louder. I felt like one of those tiny pebbles being shoved up into the treads of the tires and going round and round making the anxiety worse, squished and pounded into the ground with every breath as I waited for the car to stop.

  Emily said the band would be staying for up to a year while they recorded an album. That meant Ream would be here. That meant I was finally going to have to deal with the shit between us. That was if Ream could be rational for five seconds. I’d prefer to stomp my feet, run to my room and lock the door. That option was negated as soon as I turned twenty a few years ago. There were limits on immaturity once you hit twenty.

  I rubbed a bruise on my arm where I had shot the drug into an hour ago. I hated that I had to do it. The issue would be if Ream opened his big mouth and told anyone about my problem. He hadn’t yet so chances were he’d keep it quiet. But him in my face, living in the same house, I didn’t know if I could do it.

  No, this was my home and Ream wasn’t chasing me out of it. Christ, my income came from painting scenes of the horses, and I needed that income to eventually move out and buy my own place. The Havoc series of six paintings I did was getting a ton of attention at Lance’s gallery. The gray horse was majestic with her long mane and contoured muscles, making my paintings of her an instant success. Lance had even set up my first solo show, planned in a few weeks.

  I’d held out dating him for months but it hadn’t been easy. The guy was persistent and yet not annoyingly so. I finally said yes, and part of me … the part I kept dormant … was doing it to make certain when Ream returned I had Lance to keep me from skipping down that path I promised never to revisit.

  But Georgie skipped, and it was right down the porch steps and across the driveway, her pink tipped strands billowing out in every direction. She reminded me of a flamingo darting across the yard, just not as graceful.

  My body was so revved with nerves, desire, anger, and uncertainty that I felt like I was under a ginormous magnifying glass in the boiling sun. I was frazzled seeing Ream again, and my body knew it. Frig, who was I kidding? It wasn’t frazzled, it was completely freaking out.

  I tried to look casual and undisturbed leaning against the door frame with one hand on my cocked hip, but inside my heart was trying to slow down as it pumped the rush of heated blood through my veins, blood that was laced with Ream-venom—and it was hungry for more.

  Emily had the car door open before it even finished rolling to a stop, and I smiled as I heard Logan shouting at her to wait. She ignored him and jumped out, throwing her arms around Georgie. I smiled as I heard their excited chatter.

  God, she looked happy. I hadn’t seen Emily’s eyes so bright and full of life in … well, ever, and we’d been besties since we were ten years old. We bonded at a time when she lost her father to cancer and my brother Matt and I lost our parents to drunk driving—my dad unfortunately being the stupid ass drunk.

  Logan got out of the driver’s seat, his watchful gaze never leaving Emily. There was no question he was her shield from everything bad in the world. I still didn’t know the details of what happened in Mexico after Emily was kidnapped, but it was enough to know that Logan did and would do anything for her.

  When the back driver’s side door opened and a long, lean leg emerged, my heart skipped a beat and my fingers dug into my hip. It was in slow motion as I watched his over-six-foot frame unfold out of the car and straighten. I stared, unable to help myself. Any girl would stare. It would be almost rude not to because Ream was the type of guy who stood out. Not because he had pink hair or shouted or was obnoxious. No, it was because he was the complete opposite. Subtle and dangerously quiet, the feeling like if he spoke you’d better hope he liked you because otherwise you’d be falling at his feet begging for mercy.

  Of course, I’d never do that.

  Ream remained motionless beside the car, stiff and impenetrable. He was friggin’ sexy hot, and Georgie’s words about licking hunted me down and shot me in the lungs stealing my breath away.

  It took two seconds before his eyes found mine. There was nothing but possession in them. As if he was taking everything from me and making it his with that single look. It was a total soul gripping statement, and I was so not ready for it because gone was the rage and torment I’d last seen in his eyes. It was replaced with complete confidence.

  What made it worse was the indifference lying beneath the surface, as if he didn’t give a crap whether I walked away or not because he’d just keep coming. I squirmed under his stare, my poise faltering as my hand slipped off my hip.

  He shut the car door and the sudden sound made me jump. He saw it. “Shit,” I mumbled beneath my breath.

  I stood upright, mentally kicked myself in the ass, and dragged my gaze away from his and smiled broad, way broader than was characteristic for me, then jogged down to Emily.

  I pushed Logan’s arm away from its protective and annoyingly sweet reside
nce on Emily’s waist. He scowled. I smiled and winked at him then threw my arms around my bestie.

  He shook his head and I heard the soft chuckle. “Kat. Nice to see you,” he acknowledged.

  “Sculpt.” I knew he was rolling his eyes without having to look at him. His fans called him Sculpt. Well, we all did before we found out his real name. I continued to call him Sculpt because I knew it annoyed him now that we were friends. He’d changed a lot since he’d managed to win Emily back, and the one thing he insisted on was his friends calling him Logan. He kept Sculpt for the stage. But when I was brave enough or stupid enough, whichever, I liked to tease him just to try and get a reaction. Scowling Logan sucked, but getting a smile or laugh out of him was pretty damn magical.

  “God, Emily, I missed you. Havoc’s missed you. That horse has been pining for you like an oversized puppy dog. I swear her hooves are worn down from dragging her feet for the last eight months.”

  Emily laughed. “Missed you too. I’m glad to be back. Logan has promised no more traveling for a year.” She lowered her voice and whispered in my ear, “And if he reneges, you should hear what I get to do to him.”

  I could only imagine. Emily said Logan was into the kinky, and I suspected bondage was on his list because well, a guy like Logan would want complete control.

  I breathed in and Ream’s dark, musky scent seeped into me. My body recognized it and reacted instantly. The twinge between my legs put my panties to the test, and the pins and needles were now in an all-out war.

  Shit.

  I was afraid to look up because I knew the second I did, I’d be face-to-face with Ream and I didn’t know if I was ready for it. I hoped he’d walk past me and go to the house.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, when I pulled back from Emily, there was nothing to block my view of him. His hand rested on the roof of the car, eyes driving into me, and he wasn’t smiling or looking like he was happy about being back. Or happy about seeing me. Or happy about anything actually. He was just looking unhappy—period. But trying to read anything else in Ream was like putting a puzzle together without all the pieces—impossible. Maybe at one time I thought I knew him but now …