Long time no see! I know what you're thinking, and no, this isn't a Flood update, but it is a Lithium update of sorts. As some of you may know, I wrote a fan fiction about a band where Christian was a tattooed bad boy with a grudge-no I don't have a PDF- but I do have a book. Not CT's book, that is coming soon though. This book is all about Jamie(KATE) and Ryder, the lead singer of CT's band. Depending on where you are in the world right now, Lithium Waves either LIVE or it will be in a few hours. I know there are a lot of you out there who only read C&A FF, and that's ok, that was me for a spell, but for those interested, here's a sneak peak of the first chapter, of the book in the LITHIUM SPRINGS SERIES. If you like it you can find the rest on Amazon, and you can find me on Facebook. (Carmel Rhodes).
Life was suffering; at least that's what the Buddhists believed. It was a philosophy James Michele Manning understood all too well. Jamie spent the first half of her life craving the conditional love of her parents, and the second half rebelling against them.
Nothing she did was good enough, including graduating from the University of Southern California with honors. It didn't matter if she was at the top of her class because, as her father put it, broadcast journalism was a dying art. "In fifty years when all the baby boomers are gone," he'd say, "no one will look to the television for the news. The internet is the wave of the future." The internet, where he made his millions.
Well, her father could go fuck himself. Her mother too. She gave up seeking their validation last fall when they abandoned her when she needed them most. Jamie was on a downward spiral. She indulged in the suffering of life, in drinking, in partying, and in casual sex. She relished the numbness alcohol provided, but recently, that life left her unfulfilled.
Party girl Jamie died months ago. Most days, she was happy that girl was gone, but there were days, like today, when she missed it. Then, as fate would have it, Lo called. Lorena Davis was her party friend. They met at a bar the year before and hit it off instantly. She had a front row seat for Jamie's, 'Britney circa 2007', meltdown, but she never judged. So, when Lo asked her to come to the edge of Seattle to see some local band perform, Jamie agreed.
That's how she found herself falling down The Rabbit Hole— literally.
The Rabbit Hole was a dive bar on the outskirts of town. Its claim to fame was a weekly skee-ball tournament, eight-dollar fish bowls, and live music.
Jamie sat at the long oak bar, nursing a cold beer. The only thing on her mind was getting shit-faced, but as usual, Lo was late.
Checking her watch, Jamie sighed, "Fuck it." She wanted to wait for her friend before she started taking shots, but Lo was twenty minutes late and she was bored. Jamie being bored in a bar was a Molotov cocktail of trouble.
She signaled for the bartender; a tall, curvy woman with bright green streaks in her brown hair. Her breasts spilled out of her black tank, and the itty-bitty shorts she wore made her ass look spectacular. Jamie made a mental note to ask her trainer about squats the next time they met.
"Hey," the punk rock Victoria Secret Model greeted, sashaying her way over.
"Is this band any good?" Jamie asked, shamelessly using her arms to press her boobs together. The move, coupled with the low-cut, black bodysuit that was painted on her body, made her small breasts look fuller.
The woman's brown eyes lit up as she leaned over the bar, her tits on full display, "Lithium Springs?"
Jamie nodded to her chest. Eyes up James, she scolded herself. Fuck if she knew the name of the band, fuck if she cared. She was only there for the drinks.
"There aren't very many people here," Jamie said, glancing over her shoulder at the fourteen or so people milling about.
The hot bartender opened her mouth to speak, only no words came out. Instead, her face turned a bright shade of pink, and her eyes darted over Jamie's left shoulder. "Hey Ry," she whispered in a breathy voice.
A long, tattooed arm brushed up against Jamie's. Honey colored eyes peered down at her. The energy between Jamie and the owner of the arm was electric. The hair on the back of her neck prickled when the man, Ry, settled into the space between her and the stool to her left.
He was close, too close, considering they were the only two people sitting at the bar. Too close, considering it had been a month since she'd gotten laid. Too close, considering she was just checking out the woman behind the bar.
Tilting her head, Jamie snuck a better look at the man who smelled like sunshine and sex— her favorite combination. He was gorgeous, tall and lean with wavy, blond hair that fell just above his shoulders. His eyes were hazel, his skin sun-kissed, and most importantly, he was covered in tattoos.
"I thought it wasn't the size of the boat but the motion in the ocean?" he asked. His voice was like hot fudge, slow, thick, and sinfully good. He eyed her, waiting for her to speak. His gaze held so much intensity it caused her cheeks to heat. She was fucking blushing, and James Michele Manning didn't blush.
"That's a lie created and perpetuated by dudes with small dicks," she smirked. Her tongue swept over her top and bottom lip, and Ry's eyes shifted down to her mouth. Good, she was desperate to take back control. This man, with his tattoos and steady gaze, unnerved her. Jamie wasn't a damsel in distress and she didn't do vulnerable.
Ry laughed, a deep belly laugh. The sound sent a rush of moisture between her legs. "You're probably right." He chuckled again, ignoring the stool behind him, leaning into her. "What's your name?" His gaze dropped from her lips, down the length of her body, and back up again. He was eye fucking her, and discretion was not in his vocabulary.
"You know," Jamie said, angling away from him, "there are plenty of empty chairs. You don't have to hover over me." His closeness diminished her ability to make rational decisions, and nothing about the way this man made her feel was rational.
"I kinda like hovering over you," he murmured, closing the space she created.
He was trouble. Jamie could see it dancing behind his hazel eyes, and fuck if she didn't want him, but unfortunately, she gave up trouble for lent. "Look, you're hot and everything, but this isn't happening," she waved between them, "so enjoy the show."
Jamie slid her phone out of her back pocket, and fired off a text to Lo.
*Jamie: I'm at the bar. Hurry your ass up!
"Tiff, babe," the blond hottie called the bartender in a voice that made her thighs clench.
Breathe James, he's just a man. Just skin and bones, breathe.
"What's up Ry?" the woman asked in a voice that made her sound like a baby. Jamie had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes; she never understood why women did that. It was annoying and men couldn't possibly like that shit.
"A shot of fireball for me and one of those fruity, Swedish fish ones for my little, Kitty Cat here."
Tiff nodded, looking from Jamie to the man, then back again. "Sure thing," she murmured, her face awash with disappointment. Jamie wanted the bartender. The bartender wanted Ry. Ry wanted Jamie. They were all screwed.
"Kitty Cat? Do I even want to know?"
He grinned a mischievous grin, one that had her clenching her thighs. "You look like you have a pretty pussy."
Yep, he was trouble.
Jamie was a lot of things, and modest wasn't one of them, but even she had to pick her jaw up off the bar after that. "You are so lame," she huffed incredulously, all but throwing her phone down. "I'm embarrassed for you. There's no way that has ever gotten you laid."
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Kitty Cat," he said finally sitting on the damn stool. "I was talking about a pet."
Jamie snorted, narrowing her eyes at him. "Ry, is it?"
"Ryder" he nodded, entirely too pleased with himself.
"Well, Ryder, you're full of shit."
Tiff set their shots on the counter, looking to Ryder expectantly. "Let me know if you guys need anything else."
He nodded but never took his eyes off Jamie. "I'm full of shit?" he asked with a raised brow.
"Yes, filled to the brim."
"Well, Kitty Cat, if you play your cards right, you might have the pleasure of being full of me," he smirked, staring at her denim clad thighs, "and for the record, I bet she's pretty too."
Jamie picked up the whiskey and knocked it back without flinching. "You'll never know." Her voice was surprisingly strong considering the way she felt inside. She wanted him just as badly as he wanted her, but she was going to fight the attraction like hell because she could tell by spending five minutes with him, Ryder had the potential to fuck up her life. Jamie then lifted the Swedish fish shot and gulped it down before hopping off the stool. "Thanks for the drinks."
He grabbed her hand, "At least tell me your name."
"You gotta earn that, Ry," she purred, winking playfully at him.
Jamie did her best to keep her composure. Part of her wanted to fuck him right there on the bar and another wanted to kick him in the nuts. She had slept with plenty of assholes in her time, but never one who made her feel like Ryder. Never one who set her world on fire.
Don't even think about it James.
Lo needed to get there fast before Jamie found herself covered in Ryder's sin.