Crazy on You Read online




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  Crazy On You [The Heartbreakers Series, Book II]

  by Caitlyn Willows

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  Erotica/Romance

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  Amber Quill Press

  www.amberquill.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Caitlyn Willows

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  Also By Caitlyn Willows

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  Epilogue

  Caitlyn Willows

  Amber Quill's Rewards Program

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  CRAZY ON YOU

  By

  CAITLYN WILLOWS

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  Amber Quill Press, LLC

  www.amberquill.com

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  Also By Caitlyn Willows

  All Four One

  Bend Me, Shape Me

  The Boys Are Back

  Caitlyn's Kisses, Vols. I-V

  A Corner Of My Soul

  Forbidden Fruit

  The Heartbreakers Series (Books I-IV)

  Her Bounty

  Hired Hand

  Hotel California

  Just Partners

  Love Potion #9

  Lust Letters

  Midnight Rendezvous

  One To Grow On

  One Touch

  Our One True Love

  Playtime

  The Star Series, Books I-V

  Tainted Love

  Teamwork

  Thief Of Hearts

  Treasure Hunters

  Undercover Lover

  White Lies

  [Back to Table of Contents]

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  CHAPTER 1

  Paul Tristan knew the minute he first saw Ceci Powers that she was the one. Unfortunately, in the minute following that epiphany—before Paul could stride across the room and claim her—he'd discovered his brother Brian had already snagged her. He'd felt gutted with the knowledge, clutching an ice cold bottle of beer like it was his lifesaver. It'd offered as much salvation as a postage-size raft on the storm-tossed Pacific. The loyalty code of brotherhood had never been more difficult to uphold. Despite their disagreements, he and his brothers had always stuck together no matter what—a united force against the world and determined to reach their goals together. For the first time in his life, Paul regretted that stand, and yet he honored it.

  Somehow he'd forced himself to smile when Brian walked toward him, hand possessively against Ceci's back. Somehow he'd forced himself to shake Ceci's hand during their introduction, despite the thrill that raced up his arm with their first contact. Somehow he'd let her hand go, even though all he'd wanted to do was haul her into the nearest room and fuck her brains out. One thing Paul promised himself at that heartbreaking moment was he'd make damn sure Brian treated Ceci like the golden goddess she was.

  A year he'd watched them together. And in that year Ceci had become a part of their lives, integrating nicely with the family and the crazy life of a beyond successful rock band. A year of agony as he watched Brian ignore her more and more. And still Ceci remained, loyal to a man—his older brother—who truly didn't deserve her.

  Now this.

  Paul held Ceci as close as he dared, rubbing what he hoped were soothing circles on her back, muttering words of comfort, while she cried. She held him as tightly as he had that beer bottle the year before—as if she'd be lost if she risked letting go. He was partly to blame for her misery. If only he hadn't pushed Brian to move forward or let her go. But he'd been desperate for his own closure, desperate to see Ceci happy. How could he have anticipated this?

  He wanted to knock the shit out of Brian right now. Hell, they'd come close to blows when Paul learned Brian had proposed to Ceci. Learning Brian already had a wife he'd conveniently forgotten about ... If not for Ceci's intervention—she'd fallen nicely into the role of peacekeeper from the start—he would have decked his brother.

  How could anyone forget about a wife? How could Brian not have mentioned her to any of them in the first place? Their parents were going to freak.

  “Damn him!” The words exploded from his mouth.

  Ceci lifted her head from his shoulder, fingers flexed against his chest. A little closer and her palms would cup his nipples; a little lower and her fingers would be able to toy with the hard flesh. The knowledge shot down to his groin, adding more substance to the cock already hard beyond capacity. An erection swelled down one leg of his jeans. That's what he got for not wearing underwear. He placed his hands over hers, intending to move them. Instead, he pressed them flat, stealing the sensation he longed for and trying not to show how much it devastated him that he couldn't have it honestly.

  Tears glistened in her sea green eyes and spiked her long lashes. Mouth parted, lips moist and full. It mystified him again why Brian could not be all over her all the time. How Brian could drift away from her the way he had, when Paul ached for just a glimpse of her, held his breath for the sound of her voice, the kiss of her constant laughter, the light in her eyes.

  “Don't,” she said. “You heard him. He thought Howie had handled all the paperwork for the annulment. It was a wild, crazy weekend ten years ago.”

  “But he didn't tell us.”

  “Do you tell him every detail of your sex life?”

  Ceci had him there. They weren't teenagers anymore. Sharing sex tales had ended in high school. But it pissed him off that Ceci was defending Brian. Where was her outrage, her fury? She was crying, for fuck's sake! Brian had broken her heart, and here she was, sticking up for him. As far as Paul was concerned, that was only more proof Brian didn't deserve her. But if Ceci loved him, Paul would do everything in his power to make sure she had him, even at the cost to his own heart.

  “Don't you worry, baby. I'll make sure this gets fixed fast so you can have the wedding you want. I'm not going to let anything spoil this for you.”

  She pressed closer, angling her hips a whisper away from his. Too close for Paul's fragile libido. Her body heat poured over his pelvis. His penis pulsed with a life all its own, demanding he thrust forward and cover that last few millimeters between them.

  “Paul ... I...”

  He braced his hands on her hips and gently set some distance between them before she could feel his hard-on, before he gave in to the urge to grind it against her. All he wanted to do was yank her back and kiss her, haul that cute black-and-white sundress to her waist and wedge her against the nearest wall while he showed her what loving a woman was all about.

  She slid her hands over his shoulders, reclaiming the distance he needed. Paul's resolve started to crumble. It would be so easy to take advantage of her turmoil, so easy to swoop in and have her, to know what it felt like to be wrapped in her arms and buried in her heat. And lose her completely because of it. Because if he made love to her once, Paul knew it would never be enough. One of them would have to go, and since he'd be the one at fault...

  He grabbed her fingers and took a small step away, holding her hands between them for a shield against his emotions and the aching cock that so wanted to throw caution to the wind and go for it.

  “I know it won't be easy, Ceci. Hang in there. Women like Alexandria Claremont are a dime a dozen. I'm surprised she hasn't tri
ed to ride the Mesquite gravy train long before now.” He snorted. “She obviously didn't realize their marriage was still valid or she would have. Don't worry. She won't stand a snowball's chance in hell. I swear to you I'm going to find out everything I can about that woman. This is one fight she won't want.”

  She held on tight when he tried to walk away. “Paul, don't do this. Let Brian handle it. It's a relief actually.”

  “You're crying your eyes out and you call that relief?”

  Ceci's eyes widened with his shout. Paul bit back an apology. If it helped keep them apart, that could only be a good thing at this point. Right?

  “I'll fix it for you, Ceci. I swear it, or die trying.”

  He strode into the house before he caved, before he spread her on the nearest chaise lounge and made his dreams come true. Before he told her how very much he loved her.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

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  CHAPTER 2

  The chaise's padded cushion whistled with Ceci's weight as she sank into it. Normally, that resulted in bawdy fart jokes from the Tristan brothers. No one was laughing today, and a good deal of the fault rested on Ceci's shoulders. How in the world had she let things go this far?

  What little fire she and Brian had between them had fizzled after two months. She should have ended it then, but didn't because she liked the Tristan brothers so much she couldn't bear the idea of never being able to hang out with them. And then it happened. She'd fallen in love with Paul.

  Ceci buried her face in her hands. She couldn't believe it herself at first. It had taken the distance of Mesquite's latest tour for her to finally admit the truth, but she knew before they left. Paul's was the voice she focused on when she listened to the band play. Paul's was the face she searched for, the smile she sought, the one whose presence she missed the most when the guys were gone.

  Ceci made one excuse after the other for not speaking up: they were preparing their new album, they were preparing for tour, they were on tour, they'd just gotten home. All seemed like valid excuses at the time for not wanting to disrupt the group's harmony. But they were still excuses. Her primary reason for silence was fear. Once she told Brian it was over, she'd never see any of the brothers again.

  The guys were tight. They had that all-for-one sibling code—blood thicker than water stuff. Which was great for a family, great for them as a group. That unity had helped them weather all the crazy ups and downs in this business. It just sucked for her. Tristans always stuck together. No one ever came between the brothers, especially a woman. Hell, they'd even bought this huge house together—a place she and Paul had found when Mesquite's financial consultant suggested they needed an investment for the millions pouring their way.

  A door slamming jerked Ceci's head up. Someone had gone into the recording studio on the other side of the pool house. Considering the slam, it was most likely Paul. She'd never seen any of the guys this upset before, but then a secret wife would do that.

  She smeared the tears from her cheeks. Her makeup was a mess. Ceci didn't need a mirror to tell her that. She should have handled this differently, too. Should have known Brian would never play anyone. The shock on his face when he heard the news was proof of that. She could have called, could have spoken with him privately, could have done any number of things differently—like not go along with the whole engagement in the first place. Now that made her feel stupid.

  They'd both been cornered at the restaurant last night. Paparazzi hovered with their intrusive cameras at the ready, flicking shot after shot in the hope of catching something. Ceci had agreed to dinner with Brian so they could talk this out, end it. Why the hell she thought doing so in a public location was a good plan was a mystery. She knew better, but didn't realize her mistake until she arrived at Prestige. By then it was too late. Then the waiter delivered the engagement surprise to their table by mistake...

  She rubbed at her temples. If do-overs were possible ... Hell, she'd go back to the night she met Brian and walk the other way. But if she'd done that she never would have met Paul. God, she could still feel the heat from that first handshake. Her memory had somehow stored it for future reference, because that night her focus had been Brian and how nice it was to be having sex again after her long dry spell.

  It was only later—months later, too late—she realized the impact that first contact had on her. The way Paul had clasped her hand, firm but not too tight. The hint of sadness in his brown eyes that he'd tried to temper with a forced smile. A handshake that now seemed to have been overly long, like they should have stepped into each other's space rather than avoid it. All these little things, all too late. All reminders that followed her to bed at night and drove her fantasies of Paul.

  At least she'd had the decency to avoid Brian's bed once Paul filled her mind. Of course, Mesquite being on tour helped that issue. It didn't help her own, only fired up her dreams of seeing Paul again. Each time Ceci met up with the band during their four-month trip, her heart raced at the sight of Paul, her pussy throbbed and melted. And still she'd done nothing to shake up the status quo, except avoid sex with Brian. Funny, he'd avoided sex with her as well, pleading exhaustion. He didn't want her any more than she wanted him. The fire that pulled them toward each other in the first place had died as quickly as it had been ignited.

  Then why in the world are you engaged?

  Ceci covered her eyes as she leaned elbows on knees once more. Had he felt as trapped as she did last night? They might not have been lovers for a while, but they were still very good friends. Maybe he feared hurting her as much as she feared hurting ... everything.

  “No more,” she said to herself. Better to hurt his feelings than to have them both live a lie.

  Ceci pushed herself to her feet and hurried inside. She'd dumped her purse somewhere between the front door and the den—the brothers’ favorite room in this sprawling house ... after the recording studio in the back. She retraced her steps and found her black hobo purse right where she'd flung it just inside the den. Luck was with her—Caz and Nick weren't in the room. It looked like Howie had taken off, too, which was just as well since Brian was furious with the man, and his three brothers didn't look too far behind that same emotion.

  Ceci snagged her purse and sank into Paul's big recliner. His scent wafted around her, wrapping her in the comfort she longed to feel in his arms. She tucked her legs under her and nestled deep into the soft blue cushion, while she plunged her hand into the depths of the bag to find her cell phone. No rehearsed speech. No hesitation. This had to happen now.

  A flick of her thumb had the phone open before Ceci could pull it out. She punched “5” on speed dial. Nerves crawled over her skin. Hope deflated when the call went to voice mail. He would have flown to Vegas and had the device turned off. Fine. She'd wait him out ... providing he'd return her call and not delete the voice mail unheard. If that happened, she'd keep trying until he finally answered. Or maybe go to Vegas and hunt him down.

  Ceci quickly discounted that crazy idea. The tabloids had enough fodder to last them days right now. They didn't need any more. Even while the story played out within the confines of Castle Mesquite—and unknown parts of Las Vegas—the ever-present paparazzi hovered to pick apart the roadkill of their lives.

  No, she was safe right where she was for the moment—curled up in Paul's big chair for two. She burrowed deeper and swiped the last remnants of tears from her face. Mascara and eyeliner blackened her fingers. God, Paul had seen her like this. Great image. Too late to unring that bell.

  Ceci hopped to her feet and hurried to the nearest bathroom down the hall. The silence in the house haunted her. Like the place was holding its breath for what would happen next. That's how she felt, locked in perpetual wait mode, afraid to think beyond what she needed to do next. If she thought farther than that, Ceci would start dwelling on the ramifications of her actions—hurting Brian, losing them all, never seeing Paul again. Those fears had stymied her in the past. She coul
dn't allow them to do so again.

  She shut herself in the bathroom and leaned against the door to steady her nerves. The brothers had designated this as her bathroom. Shades of black and pink Victorian designs embellished the room. No Tristan male dared cross the threshold. Makeup, curling iron and rollers, blower dryer, and various other necessities of feminine life filled the drawers in the vanity. Plush towels were stacked in the linen closet. Bath oils, bubbles, and soaps lined the shelf around a tub made for relaxing. Magazines and paperbacks were within easy reach. Her place, her nest. Her sanctuary in a household over-run with testosterone.

  She'd also taken over the walk-in closet across the hall for clothes, shoes, whatevers. Paul had moved a chest of drawers in there for her use as well. The place was huge. She could have fit a twin bed in there if she wanted. From what she recalled of the Realtor's rambling accolades about the house, it had once been used as a dressing room for the bathroom opposite it. Ceci had wasted no time claiming it as hers.

  She didn't realize how telling it was until now that nothing of hers was in Brian's room. In fact, they'd rarely slept in Brian's bed at the same time. Before they'd gone on tour, the brothers were rehearsing in the recording studio until all hours. Most of the time Brian slept on one of the sofas in there, or she'd fallen asleep listening to them work. Obviously, she and Brian did an excellent job of avoiding each other—politely, of course.

  Another sigh launched her off the door and to the mirror. The damage to her makeup was worse than Ceci expected. She washed her face and left it at that. God only knew how many more tears she'd shed today. No makeup was better than smudged and runny.

  Somewhat revived, she walked back to the den, kicked off her wedge sandals, and tucked into Paul's chair. It felt like heaven to sink into its depths. The only thing missing was—

  “So are the three of you just about done dancing around each other?”