Page 15 of Fame And Secrets
Chapter Five
Phoebe
He didn’t give me time to answer.
Reaching under my dress, his fingers wrapped around the lone string of my panties and jerked backward. The sound of the material ripping only pushed him further into a world where I couldn’t reach him. I gasped, and he cut his eyes to me, jutting his jaw as he ran his hand up the inside of my thigh.
My head fell back automatically as his fingertips raked exactly over the place I wanted them. “God, Julian…”
The words barely tumbled from my mouth when, with an effortless lift under my arms, he set me onto the dining room table. Dropping his lips to my neck, his tongue slid down, sucking the top of my breast deep into the heat of his mouth. The low moan that rumbled through me only pushed him over the edge.
Not breaking contact, he reached between us with his other hand and jerked his boxers to the floor. Securing my hips, he pulled me toward him. I braced my palms behind me as he plunged forward, entering with a force that made us both groan on impact. Rhythmic thrusts propelled us into a realm where nothing existed but the feeling of his body inside mine.
He seemed part machine, physically chasing a wall he’d constructed between us again.
My wave of whimpers grew into moans of his name. “Julian, I can’t…”
This time it was his turn to drop his lips to my ears, his voice rough and demanding. “Yes, you can.”
Another powerful stroke, and my world spun out of control. My nails dug long scratches into the wood finish of the table as I gasped for air. Impatient for his own release, Julian increased his tempo. His hold tightened, and with one final thrust he groaned into my neck until the tremors subsided.
His forehead raked against my chest as beads of perspiration dripped between my breasts. Even if I’d wanted to speak, there was nothing to say. Closing his eyes, he fought to regain control.
I wanted to lighten the mood, but it seemed as if the sex that normally fixed us, suddenly broke us. He was inside of me, but we were miles apart.
He opened his eyes with a start, the corners of his mouth turning down in a frown. “Fuck.” He angrily readjusted his boxers and ran his hand through his hair. Backing away, he turned around.
What the hell just happened?
“Julian?”
“I need to pack.”
“You’re shutting me out again. Talk to me. Have you heard anything about that Cayden girl you’re not telling me? Or anything about,” I swallowed hard, “my father?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Phoebe. It’s just,” he raked his hand over his hair again and sighed, “I was way out of line. I’m sorry. I took my frustration out on you. That was too rough after what you’ve been through. It will never happen again.”
The fatigue in his voice worried me. “I didn’t exactly push you away. You didn’t hurt me,” I assured him, kissing his bicep. “I didn’t mean to provoke you.”
Turning around, he caught my eye. “You didn’t do anything. This is on me and my goddamn issues.” He gathered me in his arms and pressed his lips against the top of my head. “I love you. I’d do anything for you. Do you understand that?” I nodded and he placed his fingers underneath my chin, coaxing me to look at him. “I need you to tell me with words that you understand and trust me to do what I think is best.”
Emotions overtook me, and I couldn’t stop the torrential downpour of tears. “I know you love me, Julian. Whatever’s wrong, you’ll tell me when you can.”
I’d hoped for a monumental confession. Something to break our circular pattern of secrets and forgiveness. Instead, I got a final lingering kiss before he turned to climb the stairs.
“I’m going to pack. Ryker should be here any minute.” With a wistful look, he took the stairs one by one until he disappeared.
***
Pacing didn’t help. Neither did hanging out at the bottom of the stairs listening for the sound of his footsteps. Eventually, I settled on the couch, nervously rolling the appointment card in my fingers until the edges were frayed and dirty. Nothing quelled the unease in my stomach festering into a full-blown ulcer.
He’s hiding something.
The gears shifted into reverse again. Julian shut down on me, falling into the same pattern he found so comfortable—solitude. No matter what I said, I couldn’t get him to realize we were a team. Especially after everything that happened in New York with his stalker. His refusal to include me in his torment almost got us both killed.
Now, we were turning down the same path once more. It didn’t matter we’d only known each other less than a year. Julian Bale had become an extension of my soul, and I felt the shift in his behavior quicker than my own.
Heaving a sigh of frustration, I held the card up to my face and carefully studied the words scribbled across it. Three weeks. Surely, that’d be enough notice for his new manager to schedule the band a break from their whirlwind promo tour and Julian’s book publicity junkets.
It wasn’t like this could be repeated. We’d already rescheduled it once because Circa Records had Julian flying to parts unknown on a whim. I knew life with a rock star wouldn’t be typical, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that resentment didn’t consume me with every broken promise in the name of his fans.
March nineteenth at two p.m.
Just reading the date tugged at the corner of my mouth until my lips curled into a genuine smile. Julian and I would find out if the spare bedroom would be painted pink or blue. It’d killed me not knowing the gender for seven weeks. A planner by nature, not being able to buy gender specific clothing or decorate the nursery unbalanced me beyond reason. It would be the first time Julian would see the baby since it looked like a malnourished gummy bear.
I couldn’t wait to tell him. I just hoped after his crazy mood swings, the out-of-character table sex we just had, and my impending trip to Griffith Park, we’d still be speaking enough to enjoy the momentous verdict.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that Julian and I were unraveling, and one loose thread would shred us into an irreparable pile of strings.