Redemption (Tattoos & Tears - Brody Book 1) Read online

  “You’re so full of shit, your eyes are turning brown, Hart,” he says drily, and I shake my head.

  “Since when have you been so interested in my love life, Sam? She tied me up in knots, I fell in love with her, and she chose her husband instead of me, end of! She’s the fucking reason I went off the rails, is that what you really want to hear?” I raise my voice.

  “I begged her to leave him, Sam, I got down on my knees and I fucking begged her. I have never begged a woman in my life, ever. She got to me; she got under my skin. Shit, it was never meant to be like this, it hurts to see her carrying on, as if nothing happened, ya know? Then she ended it and said she had to focus on her marriage, her career and trying for a baby. She told me we couldn’t be together and that’s when I lost it. I literally went bat shit. She’s part of the reason I ended up in fucking rehab after your wedding, Sam, she’s the reason I was so messed up.”

  I start to pace the room, almost frantically and I need a fix so bad, my skin feels like its buzzing. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  “I loved her-Jesus, I love her so fucking much, but it’ll never be enough, I’ll never be enough.” I run my hands over my head and Sam looks at me.

  “Shit, dude, I had no fucking idea, why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”

  I laugh bitterly. “I know you, Sam. I’ve known you since we were kids, you and the boys would never have let me live it down.”

  He shakes his head. “That’s fucking bullshit and you know it, Hart,” he says matter-of-factly, and I briefly close my eyes.

  “Because I was fucking ashamed! I was ashamed, alright? I was sleeping with someone else’s wife, Sam. She was never mine to begin with, every stolen moment we had together reminded me of that. I had to share her with him, and do you know how that made me feel? I couldn’t fucking stand it! I couldn’t bear seeing her with him, it fucking hurt!” I raise my voice a few decibels louder and angrily swipe away the tears, that have escaped from me, as I purge everything that happened between Lorna and me.

  Lorna Lavelle is the married woman I have been sleeping with for the past four years. She is a West End make-up artist, and we met in the ‘House of Burlesque’ club, where she used dance part-time. She has skin the colour of café au lait, aquamarine eyes, long red hair, and her legs go on for miles. She is married to Stefan Lavelle, a well-known professional surfer, from Oahu in Hawaii and they have been married for nine years. Even though he beats her, and abuses her physically and mentally, she refuses to leave him.

  “Every moment I had with her, was fucking borrowed, I needed her like you need Peyton. She was it for me, Sam. I always want what I can’t fucking have, it’s been that way my whole life. After she said it was over, she just pushed me further away, stopped taking my calls and point blank refused to see me.”

  The looks in Sam’s eyes, says it all and I clear my throat, as I jab my finger in his direction. “Don’t you fucking dare feel sorry for me, Sam Newbolt, don’t you dare!”

  He holds his hands up defensively and I suddenly feel angry at him for forcing me to talk about it. “There’s no pity or judgement here, mate, I promise,” he says sincerely, and I roll my shoulders, as I check my reflection in the floor-length mirror. I suppose I’ll do.

  “Right, are we going to get fucking shit-faced, or not?” I say a little too brightly and Sam stands up. I can’t talk about this anymore.

  “So, that’s it, then? You’re just going to fucking carry on, as if nothing’s happened?”

  I look at him and he glowers at me. Two can play that game, Newbolt.

  “Yep, that’s exactly what I’m going to fucking do.”

  I grab my leather jacket and don’t give him an opportunity to say anything more. Subject closed – for now at least.

  ***

  The pulsing beat of Blow by Ed Sheeran, Chris Stapleton and Bruno Mars, blasts through the speakers of Neon Nights. The walls are decorated with opulent black, teal and aubergine wall coverings, the main area of the club is open with purple plush sofas all around the edges, and the tables are black granite and chrome. The fully stocked black granite bar takes up the whole back of the venue, as we are escorted into the V.I.P lounge, by our security team and a leggy blonde hostess, who is wearing tiny gold hot pants.

  “What can I get you boys to drink?” She purrs, as I rub my hands together and tuck a hundred between her ginormous tits, which are spilling out of her gold bikini top.

  “Bottle of your finest Cristal and a large bottle of Jack please, darlin’. Keep ‘em coming and put it on our tab.”

  She nods, fluttering her fake eyelashes at me. Looks like I’m in there, get in my son!

  “Coming up, hot stuff,” she winks and teeters off on her heels, fluffing her hair as she goes. I slap Sam on the back and laugh animatedly, “looks like I’ve still got it, Sammy!”

  Sam rolls his eyes, and we all sit down in a roped off private corner booth.

  Nights out seem to be rare these days and it reminds me how far we have come since the early days. Performing in dive bars, dodging glasses, and stepping over drunks. We are at the height of our careers and so much has happened in the fourteen years since we formed Rancid Vengeance. Sam is settled down, with a wife and two kids, Jax is a dedicated dad to his daughter, Thea and Lucas is just…well, Lucas. I’m stuck in the same rut I have been since we started, battling demons and a fucking drug addiction.

  I start to think nothing is ever going to change, when I catch sight of a woman in a striking red dress. As she turns around, I’m stunned into silence, when the realisation hits me, it’s Raleigh Storm, the fucking goddess I met in rehab. The one who rocked my world, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. She is with her friend, the smile on her face is easy, genuine and lights up her whole face. I can’t tear my fucking eyes away from her. The colour of her dress, as she dances effortlessly and gracefully, across the dance floor. The colour of her lipstick, as she smiles, with that familiar sparkle in her eyes. I am fucking floored by her beauty. She has never looked more beautiful and for the first time ever, as I watch her, I feel weak, vulnerable, and exposed. A feeling that I have never been overly familiar with. My thoughts are interrupted by Sam’s leg nudging mine.

  “Something you need to tell us, mate?” he says, with an amused tone to his voice, as the other boys laugh raucously.

  “Nothing at all, dude,” I say nonchalantly, with a shrug of my shoulder and a slight shake of my head. I am not ready to share her. Not yet. She is too fucking precious for that. I hardly know her, and she is already evoking feelings in me, that are…alien. Sure, we know each other intimately. I will never forget the distinct female moans she made, as I licked her to climax over and over again. The way her breathing would increase and the way her body stretched out like a cat, as she reached orgasm. Fuck, I’m hard just thinking about her.

  “Bullshit,” Jax regards me with narrow eyes.

  “We’ve known you for over twenty years, Brody, and you’ve always been shit at poker. You have so many tells, the way you squeeze the back of your neck, when you’re nervous.”

  I release the back of my neck and they all laugh rowdily. Busted. “See, told you!”

  I pout.

  “Brody Hart, I do believe you’re pouting! He’s definitely pouting, guys!” Lucas laughs wildly.

  “Fuck you!”

  Sam turns to see who has me tied up in knots and cocks his eyebrow. “She’s Miss Rehab, isn’t she? That’s the reason you were so cagey in our meeting earlier. Raleigh Storm, the very same Raleigh, who’s coming on tour with us, you filthy fucking animal!”

  Jax and Lucas look at each other and then back at me.

  “Dude, seriously? You and Raleigh Storm? She’s…fucking stunning, how did you manage to tap that?” Lucas chuckles at his own joke and I kick him under the table.

  “Prick.”

  Lucas sucks his bottom lip and rubs his leg.

  “Asshole,” he mutters.

 
“Why are we always the last ones to find out?” Lucas complains and I roll my eyes.

  “Seriously? Don’t you motherfuckers have anything better to do, than stick your beaks into my love life? It’s really no big deal, we fucked that’s all, end of.” I try to sound cool and detached, avoiding their scrutinising eyes. Jax snickers and catches Sam’s stare. They exchange a silent look and I look from Sam to Jax.

  “What was that fucking look about? I saw that.” I narrow my eyes suspiciously, as they both shake their heads in unison.

  “Nothing, man.” Sam holds his hands up defensively, as he takes a sip of his drink. I am about to stand up when my skin starts to prickle. She is close and as I turn around; I am greeted by those familiar, sparkling amethyst eyes.

  Fuck me.

  7

  Raleigh

  As my gaze locks with his, I witness the familiar flash in his eyes, that I saw when we first had sex. Maybe it’s the colour of my dress, maybe it’s because this is the first time I've seen him since rehab. Who knows? I can feel the weight of his sizzling stare, from across the room and boy, is my pussy throbbing to feel him inside me again. Shit, this man is like a walking aphrodisiac. I feel like a bitch in heat. My blood is on fire, my pulse is racing and every nerve in my body is tuned to Brody Hart. Fuck, what is he doing to me? He’s like a force field and I'm a magnet being pulled towards him. I shouldn't feel this way, I shouldn't crave the forbidden fruit, that he so willingly offers. I twirl my ring around my middle finger, and I hear Liv softly chuckle.

  "You only do that when you're nervous, or anxious, he’s really got to you, hasn't he, babe?" Liv observes and I shake my head to try and dismiss her, but she knows me too well.

  "Don't lie to me, Rae, you forget how well I know you. It’s ok to want him, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. You're only human, I must admit, he’s smoking hot, it’s all about the tattoos."

  Liv fans herself with her hand and I swear she fucking swoons. I roll my eyes. Dramatic as ever, Liv.

  "What?" she feigns innocence, as she sucks her Cosmopolitan through a straw.

  "I know I might be engaged, but there’s no harm in window shopping? I can look, but not touch, right?" She cocks her perfectly plucked eyebrow. I laugh and take a sip of my rose wine.

  "Why don't you go and say hi?" she tries to encourage me.

  "Not a chance, he’s with his friends, I don’t want to intrude," I say in a rush and she sighs theatrically. "All men aren't Carter Leonard, Rae."

  I shudder, as she says the name of my manipulative ex-boyfriend. He’s the reason I ended up in rehab. His constant put downs, the sleeping around, the subtle mental abuse that went on for months and the bruises I ended up with after he’d been drinking. I push those thoughts from my mind and focus on the pulsing rhythm of Bruno Mars 24K Magic. The beat of the song, rolls through me, along with the four tequila shots I just downed to pluck up the courage to go and say hi. You’re pathetic, Storm. I look at Brody and he is just as stunned to see me as I am to see him. What are the fucking odds of us bumping into each other?

  “Hey trouble.” His voice playful and filled with wicked promise, as I clear my throat, feeling more than a little nervous.

  “Hey yourself.”

  Fuck, he’s gorgeous. I have to stop myself from eye-fucking him, his muscles are visible through his leather jacket and white t-shirt combo.

  Black tattoos peek out from his leather jacket cuffs, covering the backs of his hands to the knuckles. Both are black and grey, on his left hand is a rose with hints of red and on his right hand is a super realistic eye. He's magnetic and there is an invisible connection between us. An undercurrent of overwhelming desire and need takes over my body. I'm lost and totally fucking blinded by sizzling hot lust. I haven't seen him since rehab and I've craved him every day since I left. He's been my go-to fantasy each time I've been reacquainted with B.O.B.

  “What have I told you about eye-fucking me in public, kitten?” he whispers low and suggestively in my ear, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, as I feel his warm breath against my skin. He runs his finger down my bare arm and I have to stop myself from moaning aloud. This man is seriously bad for my health.

  Liv comes strutting over to us, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder, interrupting the moment. Typical Liv, she’s a natural flirt.

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us, Rae?” she asks with a girlish giggle. She’s definitely had too many cocktails. For the first time, I notice the rest of Rancid Vengeance, sitting casually in the private booth.

  “Sure,” I clear my throat, my eyes locking with his and I can’t look away. Fuck me, he’s even hotter than the last time I saw him, has he been working out?

  “Liv, this is Brody, Brody, this is my pain in the arse best friend, Liv.”

  Liv narrows her eyes and pouts childishly, as she offers Brody her hand.

  “Nice to meet you, seems we have that in common, darlin’. These are my pain in the arse best mates, Sam, Jack and Luke.”

  Sam salutes coolly, Jax nods and Lucas sticks his thumb up in greeting. Liv chuckles far too enthusiastically, as she stumbles on her heels into the booth. Sam, Lucas, Brody and Jax all snicker between themselves and I can clearly see the chemistry amongst all four of them.

  “Can I get you a drink, kitten?”

  I nod and he offers me his arm. I link mine through his and his muscles undulate against mine, as we walk through the throngs of people, in the crowded club. I can feel the warmth of his skin through his jacket, and I am aching to glide my hands all over his ripped, inked body. He half turns towards me and leans in to whisper in my ear, his breath warm against my cheek.

  “You as well, huh?” As if he can read my thoughts, he cocks his head towards the door.

  “Step outside for some air with me.” He makes it clear in his tone of voice that it’s more a statement than a question and like a love-struck puppy, I blindly follow him. What could possibly go wrong?

  Brody

  I can feel the heat radiating from her tight little body at my back, as she follows me outside the club. The rush of cold air chills me to the bone; I instinctively take off my leather jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. I’m struck dumb by the smile she gives me in return, as if no other man has ever done that for her before. The sudden change from loud music, to just the sound of our breathing is a welcome change and I relish in the momentary silence. We both go to speak at the same time and we both laugh.

  “Ladies first,” I say, with an amused tone to my voice and she nods.

  “I was just going to say, it’s really good to see you, it’s been a while. You’re looking…good.”

  I chuckle at her statement, as she licks her lips. "Thanks for the compliment, you look stunning too, as always, but we both know I didn't drag you out here to exchange pleasantries, kitten."

  My voice is low and rough. "Fuck, I've missed your tight pussy," I blurt out crassly and I can’t seem to help it. She brings out a side of me that I don’t show easily, and I don't miss the soft moan she lets out as I say those words.

  "Admit it; you’ve thought about nothing else, since we fucked in rehab."

  Before I finish my sentence, she's on me. She tackles me and pushes me forcefully against the wall. My back colliding with the cold, hard brick and she practically kiss attacks me, as if she can't get enough. She smashes her lips against mine and slides her hands underneath my t-shirt, running her nails possessively down my abs. She briefly pulls away and the look she gives me is filled with pure carnal lust. Her eyes turn smoky in the dim streetlight.

  "Ah fuck, kitten, what are you doing to me?"

  She lifts up my t-shirt, claws at my biceps and I growl at the feeling, torturous pleasure mixed with sweet pain.

  "I'm taking what's mine, Mr Hart. You have no idea what you've done; you've ruined me for all other men. I can't fucking orgasm without thinking of you and your magnificent cock."

  I'm not sure if it’s the alcohol talk
ing, but I'm taken aback by her words and fuck, is it turning me on. At least it’s given my fragile ego the boost it needed.

  "Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty, kitten," I smirk, and she presses her forefinger to my lips.

  "Shhh, no more talking. I just want you to fuck me." She crushes her lips to mine and proceeds to undo my belt. Shit, who is this fucking vixen? As her fingers wrap around my dick, I am fucking finished. I let out a primal grunt, as she pulls away from our kiss and tugs my lip with her teeth.

  "Shit, Raleigh."

  She sinks down to her knees, unzips me, and wraps her lips around my hardness. I hit my head against the wall, as she starts to build up a rhythm. I try hard not to gag her, as she expertly moves her tongue around my piercing, and I get off on the danger of almost being caught. It’s forbidden, a little dangerous, and it’s fucking hot as hell. The press would think their Christmases have all come at once if they caught us right now.