Redemption (Tattoos & Tears - Brody Book 1) Page 15
As I go to speak again, he steps into the room and it’s like all the air has vacated. He looks delicious drenched in sweat wearing ripped jeans, which hang low on his lean hips and a tight black vest, which clings to his overwhelmingly, powerful physique. He cocks his eyebrow curiously.
“Liv, I’ve got to go,” I say softly.
“Ah, I see, give him one for me! Love ya! Speak soon!”
I hang up, without saying goodbye and I get to my feet. He moves closer, like a predator trapping its prey. I have nowhere to go, as he backs me against the dressing table. He lifts me effortlessly onto it and he presses his lips to mine. His tongue probing mine, as he deepens the kiss. His lips are unusually soft for a guy, the softness of his lips and his two-day-old stubble is a total contrast, as he pushes himself further into me. His erection digging into my lower abdomen and he is damp with sweat, but he smells of something distinctly Brody Hart. I trace his bottom lip with my tongue, and he buries his hand in my hair, as if he can't get enough of me. The low rumbling sound he makes, lets me know he's more than turned on. I wrap myself around him, telling him wordlessly, that I'm more than ready to rock his world. Brody is broad, muscular and a few inches taller than me, I feel small in comparison. The working out he's been doing in his spare time has really paid off.
“God, you were fucking amazing out there, kitten. I’m so fucking proud of you; I knew you could do it,” he grinds out hoarsely and I feel a sense of real achievement at his praise and kind words.
“Is it weird that I’m fucking horny right now?”
I laugh and shake my head, as he thrusts his steel erection into me.
“Not at all, I’ve thought of nothing else since I stepped off that stage,” I confess boldly.
“See, we fit together perfectly.” He moves his hand lower and starts rubbing lazy circles over my shorts.
“Oh God, Brody,” I moan softly. “Anyone could walk in.”
“Fucking let them, I’m pleasuring my girl and I’m not ashamed.”
My stomach does a little somersault at hearing him call me his girl.
“Do you want me to take you right here, kitten?”
I bite my lip and nod.
“Does it turn you on that someone might walk in and catch us?” he says seductively as he unzips my shorts and slides his hand inside. He shoves his finger inside my slick channel, I gasp at the intrusion. “God, you’re always so wet for me.”
I moan softly and as he builds up a rhythm, I’m practically riding his hand.
“We have to be quick; do you think you can come for me? I want you to come hard all over my fingers.”
I writhe beneath him, as he continues to finger fuck me shamelessly, on the dressing room table. He introduces a second finger and I’m aware, that someone could walk in at any moment.
"Jesus fucking Christ, you’re close, I can feel you rippling against my fingers. That’s so hot," he says, as his rhythm increases, driving me towards the finish line.
"Fuck, I’m going to come! Oh God! Brody!”
He expertly twists his fingers inside me, and his thumb finds my sensitive swollen nub.
"Oh fuck! Brody!”
He grins, his silver eyes twinkling with want.
"Come for me, kitten.” He increases his pace and I find myself panting audaciously for him. “I want to watch you come.”
His voice is commanding as my orgasm to tears through me like a lightning bolt. He swallows my screams, as he squeezes every ounce of pleasure from my tightly wound body.
"Fucking hell! That was easily the most erotic thing I've seen, watching you come around my fingers like that."
His voice is low and filled with seductive promise.
“Fuck me, Brody.”
He shakes his head and tips my chin up to face him.
“Not here, kitten. As much as it turns me on, I don’t want other men seeing what’s mine.”
He says with hard conviction, as he presses his forehead to mine and with those words, I know one million percent, I have fallen hopelessly in love with this beautifully broken rock star.
***
After he made me come perched on the dressing room table, we ended up back at the hotel. He fucked me on and across every surface in the room. There’s no doubt in my mind that there’s something between us, whether he cares to admit it, or not. We lie there in a post-sex haze, my head resting on his solid pecs and his fingers idly stroking my hair.
"Me and Carter had been together six months when he tried to rape me," I admit and I feel his whole body stiffen and as I say those words, I am instantly transported back to that day.
Eleven Months Ago
It was our six-month anniversary, and we had been out for dinner to celebrate. We both left our cars at his place, so we could both have a glass of wine or two and we got a cab to my favourite restaurant, ‘The Cave’. I was wearing my favourite backless, cobalt blue, Roberto Cavalli mini-dress and Carter was wearing a dark slate grey three-piece suit. It was just like any other night, we had dinner, chatted easily about our upcoming projects, even had a few laughs, like any normal couple would. But as our night ended, his attitude and whole demeanour totally changed. When he was in this mood, I never knew which Carter I was going to be graced with, the Dr Jekyll part of him, or the Mr Hyde part. On the cab journey back to his penthouse apartment in Mayfair, he was distant, eerily silent, and his mood was intense.
By the time we arrived, I was feeling relatively anxious, as I followed him through the front door. As I shut the door, he hung up his jacket, and I turned towards him, his open palm cracked across my face. It took me by surprise, as I was slammed back against the door. I could hear him yelling, that I was a whore and a worthless slut, for flirting with the waiter during dinner. He continued to shout about how I made him look pathetic. He grabbed me by my hair and dragged me close enough, that I could smell the strong scent of alcohol on his breath and feel his spittle against my lips, as he hissed at me.
“So, you think I’m some sort of fucking pathetic idiot? Do you?”
My mind still reeling from his sudden outburst of anger and violence, I could only manage a pitiful noise that only appeared to enrage him further. He hit me with the back of his hand so hard, that I bounced off the wall next to the door and I crumpled against it. I felt the force of his foot hit my side, a split second before I felt the excruciating pain and I screamed out in agony.
“Please, Carter. I didn’t do anything, please, tell me what I’ve done,” I begged pitifully.
“Didn’t fucking do anything?” he roared at me.
I felt him grab me by my ankles and drag me across the floor, the carpet burning my back. As I opened my eyes and realised I was lying on the living room floor. He was on top of me, ripping my dress off my shoulders, and pawing at my tender breasts, the look in his eyes was not like anything I’d seen before. I was terrified, as he moved himself slightly and thrust his hand up between my legs. He yanked my knickers to one side, as I felt him roughly penetrate me with his fingers. I summoned every ounce of strength I had inside of me and screamed in his face for him to stop at the same time as I clenched my fist and smashed it into his face. He looked only slightly shocked for a second, before a sinister grin appeared on his face and it was in that moment, I knew I was in real trouble.
“Is that all you’ve got, bitch?”
He spat at me, as he grabbed both sides of my head, raised it slightly and smashed it down on the carpeted floor. I could only see colours and strange, psychedelic patterns, as I felt him stand up and rip the rest of my clothes off.
“Why are you doing this, Carter?” I managed to mumble incoherently, and I truly had no idea what I had done wrong.
“You know fucking why, you worthless piece of shit! I saw the way you looked at him! The waiter, you were practically eye-fucking him right in front of me!”
I couldn’t comprehend the way he was talking and acting. He bent down to grab me by my hair and dragged me into the kitchen. He jerk
ed me to my feet and slapped me across the face again, throwing me forward, so that I fell to my knees. I heard a bottle clank, as it fell and rolled to a stop against the wall. I heard the clink of his belt and the sound of him unzipping his trousers. He grabbed my legs and dragged me forwards, gripping me by the hips, and I knew what was about to happen. I started to sob and prayed to everything I could think of to make it stop. I was screaming and crying hysterically, he just kept saying it’s what I wanted and what I deserved for treating him like an idiot. I heard the bottle clink again, as he attempted to push himself into me, but I didn’t allow him to, as I screamed again. I lashed out blindly with my hand and I heard a smashing sound, a second before I realised I was the one holding that fucking God-sent bottle.
After I knocked him out, I really don’t know how I managed to get away from him. Somehow, I’d sliced my arm open. It must have been as I hit him with the bottle, and I was bleeding quite badly. I grabbed a towel from the kitchen and wrapped my arm in it, the blood soaking it almost immediately. I remember every move I made was almost robotic, like I was either on autopilot, or in shock. I haphazardly pulled on my ripped dress, fully aware that he could come around at any moment. I took Carter’s suit jacket from the coat rack and pulled it tightly around myself. I was aware that it was Gucci and uber expensive, and his jacket would be totally ruined, but I didn’t give a shit. I grabbed my bag with my car keys and left in a hurry without looking back.
***
Brody takes in a sharp intake of breath. I feel his body trembling against me, with such palpable anger, that I don’t doubt his feelings for me for one second.
16
Brody
Listening to her recount the horror she went through with her fucking scum bag ex-boyfriend. How could he treat her like that and still be fucking breathing? He wouldn't be after I've finished with him. I knew she broke up with her ex, Carter Leonard from what Cole found out, when I asked him to do a background check on her. So fucking sue me! Carter and Raleigh both starred in a popular, well-known UK based, soap opera, called ‘The Village.’ They also both starred in a leaked porn movie and there was speculation that it was Carter who leaked it. Raleigh’s character was immediately written out, and she was publicly shamed. Carter’s management called a press conference, he made an apology to his fans and his role was immediately reinstated. Not long after, Raleigh was admitted to rehab.
"To this day, I really don’t know how I summoned up the strength to get away from him."
I feel a tear drip on my chest, and I realise it came from my eyes. What is wrong with me? I never fucking cry, at least not in long time.
"Don’t cry for me, Brody. God, I can't bear it, I don't deserve it, I was so fucking weak and pathetic."
I swipe my tears away and tilt her head, so she's facing me.
"Don’t you fucking dare do that, Raleigh. How could you think you deserve to be treated that way?"
She shakes her head, almost in disbelief.
"Because he made me that way, because I let him make me that way, I allowed that to happen. We're both damaged, Brody, but whatever anyone says or thinks, we're both survivors."
I clench my jaw, feeling angry on her behalf.
"I really want to hurt him; he needs to fucking pay for what he’s done."
She laughs bitterly.
"He's brilliant at manipulating, he's an actor. He’s an expert at it, he’s good at making people believe what he wants them to believe. He’s a liar, but he’s great at turning on the charm, when it suits.”
I sit up and lean down to face her.
“He doesn’t deserve to be fucking breathing for what he did to you, Raleigh. He needs to suffer for laying his hands on you!”
I reach out to stroke her face and she leans into my touch.
“I’m so sorry you had to endure that; I’d never hurt you like that. Jesus Christ, the thought turns my fucking stomach,” I express incredulously.
She sits up and entwines her fingers with mine, as she continues her story.
“Despite that fact that I’d been drinking, I managed to drive myself home, praying that I wouldn’t get pulled over. I went inside, and I tried to fix my arm myself, I tried to bandage it, but there was so much blood. I couldn’t stop shaking. I felt woozy, and I was in a lot of pain. By that point I think the adrenaline had started to wear off. I took some pills to dull the pain and I must have passed out, because the next thing I remember was Paul finding me the next morning. I tearfully spilled out that I had suffered a relapse with the self-harming and was addicted to prescription medication. I admitted myself to rehab, I was so desperate to get away from Carter, I invented a fucking addiction.”
A tear rolls down her cheek, and she angrily swipes it away.
“To this day Paul still believes the lie, even though he constantly questions me and tries to pick holes in my story. He’s got his suspicions, he’s a smart man, but I managed to convince him otherwise and he thinks it was a cry for help. A failed suicide attempt. You’re the only person I’ve ever told but I’m not a drug addict. Yes, I’m a self-harmer, that was never a lie, but I’m not addicted to prescription medication. I’m so sorry I lied.”
I am dumbstruck at what I’m hearing. How the fuck can someone as strong as her, allow herself to be treated that way? I actually feel physically violent.
“Don’t you dare be fucking sorry. You’ve got nothing to apologise for. He needs to be dealt with, Raleigh. He needs to be stopped, before he does it to some other innocent woman.”
She smiles warmly.
“How many other women do you think have tried to go to the press about him, Brody? I’ve taken out a restraining order against him, so he can’t come within one hundred yards of me.”
My mouth drops open and I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What the actual fuck?
“If you think nothing’s going to be done about him now that I know, you’re very much mistaken, kitten. I will make sure that fucking piece of shit pays for what he did to you and all of those other women. He won’t be breathing by the time I’m done; I’ll make him beg for his fucking sad, pathetic life, I’ll make damn sure of that,” I say with absolute conviction to my voice, and I know at that very second I would do anything to protect what’s mine.
Raleigh Storm is mine.
***
My mind is still reeling, after Raleigh’s earlier revelation and all I can do is just lie there in silence and comfort her. Her head resting on my chest and the warm feeling of her body pressed against me, oddly distracts me from the shit in my head.
“You know whether you choose to believe me is completely your call, but you have the ability to wreck me, Rae. No woman has ever had that power over me before. That makes you the most powerful woman in my life. Fuckin’ own it!” I admit shamelessly, and she chuckles softly as I brush my thumb across her full bottom lip.
She closes her eyes, relishing in my touch.
“You sell yourself short, Brody. You’re a fucking walking contradiction, you say you don’t do romance, but your words and your actions tell me different.”
As she says those words, I don’t know how to react, because the truth is, I often wondered who the real Brody Lennon Hart was. Who am I, other than Snake, world famous guitarist and one quarter of one of the worlds’ biggest British rock bands? Lying here with her, at this moment, I’ve never been surer of who I am. I’m the man, who’s perpetually in love with Raleigh Storm. This beautiful, annoying as fuck woman, she completes me, she quiets my demons, but she can't ever know. Fuck my life.
Raleigh
Our conversation last night, has seemingly bought us closer together and even though I know today is the day I have to say goodbye to Brody, I know in my heart that this won’t be the last time we see each other. We’re on the tour bus and I’m packing up my stuff, ready to go home. I got a call from Paul this morning, to let me know that my new apartment in Kensington is ready for me to move into. Thank God! I have an unusual, but welcome s
pring in my step today and I’m looking forward to what life has to throw at me. Peyton makes her way towards me with a newspaper under her arm and two Starbucks cups in her hands.
“Hey hon, thought you might need this. Although when you see this, you’ll wish I’d bought you something stronger!”
She laughs and hands me the cup, bracing myself for what I’m about to see, as she spreads the newspaper across the table. We both sit down opposite each-other, and the bold headline catches my eye. ‘Budding romance for troubled actress and bad boy of rock?’ I take a sip of my coffee and read on aloud.
“Veteran rock band Rancid Vengeance made a welcome return to form on stage last night, at the iconic Royal Albert Hall. But the question on everyone’s lips was, are bad boy, Brody ‘Snake’ Hart and troubled actress, Raleigh Storm an item? Brody Hart, 34, is famous for his off-stage antics, his numerous stints in rehab and his links to a string of women. Sources close to the band say, ‘They’ve been getting very close, and they are very much smitten with each other’ and ‘She may be the one to subdue his wild, rebellious ways.’ Raleigh Storm, 29, who has been cast in Damien Valentine’s upcoming film ‘Rocked’, is famous for her previous turbulent relationship, with popular U.K soap hunk, Carter Leonard. The pair are said to have met on the bands’ recent tour and judging by the picture, it won’t be long before their relationship is official. A spokesperson for both Miss Storm and Rancid Vengeance have declined to comment.”