by K. Webster
“Fuuuckk,” he roars, his come still flowing from him. The weight of him is almost suffocating, but I’m too delirious to care about anything but the salty taste of him soaking into my lips.
My limbs are heavy and sore, and every part of me feels the echoes of Ren’s touch.
The new day came and went, and we only stopped fucking to eat and sleep.
Ren’s soft snores from beside me make a smile creep over my lips. I didn’t expect this. Him.
It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. Yet, I can’t force myself to leave. To not want him.
Pulling the covers up over him, I slip from the bed. My mouth is parched, and I’m pretty sure I’ve burned more calories in the last two days than I have the entire year at the gym. My stomach growls on that thought, demanding fuel. Grabbing a discarded shirt, I drag it over my body and make my way to Ren’s kitchen. There’s not much in there but a couple of slices of cold leftover pizza that has my name all over it. Plucking a bottle of beer from his stash, I carry my bounty to his couch and collapse on it. The first bite of pizza makes me sigh as I chase it with the beer. I should really get dressed and get back to my own apartment. I have classes tomorrow. But I know I won’t.
A buzzing startles me, making me splash myself with beer. Shit.
Scrubbing at the mess on Ren’s shirt, I seek out the sound of the buzzing. It’s coming from Ren’s cell phone left on the coffee table. A William is calling. Frowning, I look at the time. Three in the morning. It must be important to be calling so late. I debate waking Ren just as the buzzing stops. Not that important then? A couple of seconds later a text message flashes up.
William: You can’t keep leaving me waiting.
William: You’re punishing me for what happened to Kate.
My heart speeds up, nearly ripping from my chest at the mention of Kate.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Guilt douses me. She is the reason I came to Ren. To find the truth—to get justice. And instead, I became just another groupie of Ren Hayes. I’m a disgrace.
I stare at the text, reading the little text box visible on his home screen over and over again. My legs wobble as I stand. Unsteadily, I bolt back to the bedroom and flick on the light.
The intrusion of the glow makes Ren groan and pull a pillow over his head. “Need sleep, babe.”
Standing over him, I drag the pillow away and show him his phone.
“Who is William?” I demand.
Squinting his eyes up at me, he snatches the phone and reads the messages.
“It’s rude to read other people’s messages, Nat.”
“Don’t do that. Tell me who the hell he is and how he knew Kate.”
Sighing, he tosses the phone down on the space next to him where I lay moments before, naked and sated. Now I’m running on adrenaline, the blood racing through my veins for very different reasons than the last two nights of pleasure.
“Are you going to sit the fuck down or just hover over me in nothing but my wet shirt?”
Looking down at myself I chew anxiously on my lip and stroke over the wet stain. This gets me a smirk and a raised brow from him.
“Tell me, Ren. I need to know,” I snap, refusing to allow that beautiful face to distract me from getting answers.
“You’re never going to let this go, are you?” he groans, scrubbing his hands over his face and sitting up.
“Never.”
“Fine.”
Seven
Fuck.
This was a conversation I did not want to have. Not with her. Not with anyone. But after the past couple of days, I know I owe it to her. She lost her best friend. Then, she gave herself to me somewhere along the way as she sought the truth. If I want to keep the girl, I have to tell her.
And fuck do I want to keep her.
I have a waiting list a mile long at the club, and I’d tell them to scrap it if it meant I got to fuck sweet Natasha every night.
“Ren,” she urges, her nostrils flaring.
Running my palm over the back of my neck, I let out a sigh. “It was an accident.” I throw on some boxers and sit on the edge of my bed.
“So you’ve said.” Her eyes water and her bottom lip wobbles. I can take her anger, but this fucking sucks.
“Come here,” I rumble, reaching for her.
“N-No,” she whispers, taking a step away from me. “Just tell me. Please.”
“William is my friend from high school,” I tell her. “His family…” I inhale the scent of cinnamon and the loss of my mother still makes my chest ache all these years later. “His family paid for my mother’s hospital bills when she was diagnosed with cancer. I was a junior in high school. Just seventeen when she passed.”
Nat’s brows furrow together and I can tell she wants to comfort me, but barely refrains.
“My brother Ronan was twenty and in college. There was no way we could pay the bills. The Warners stepped up, thanks to William, and paid off the debts. Once my brother took off with Harose Records, he paid them back. Every penny. The moment he could. But we never forgot what they did for us.”
“I’m sorry about your mom,” she murmurs. “But you’re beating around the bush. Tell me what happened with Kate.”
“I’m getting to that. Anyway, despite our growing apart as far as our careers go, William and I have remained friends. The more he pads his political résumé, the more I don’t exactly fit in his world. The past couple of years, he’s treated me like a dirty little secret. Normally, I find it funny as fuck and love to taunt him when his proclivities leak over into his pristine politician world.” I scrub at my face with my hand that still smells of pussy. “He’s into my scene but hides that part of himself. Even from his fiancée. Well, ex-fiancée now.”
“William and Kate were seeing each other?” she asks, scrunching her nose. “The note.” She leaves the room for a minute and then rushes back in, thrusting the note at me.
He doesn’t love her. She’s an accessory to him. I’m real. I know he won’t marry her. Not when he has me on the side. I know what he likes because I like it too. It has to be enough.
“They were both novices in the whole breathplay kink. And…” I trail off and frown at her. “They fucked up, Nat. Took it too far.”
My eyes fall to her throat that is slightly bruised from our own playing. Difference is, I know what the fuck I’m doing. William never should have attempted that shit without getting some training first.
I rise and walk over to Nat. She lifts her chin but doesn’t move away. My fingers drag along her throat and I steal a kiss. I don’t fucking know if she’ll bolt after this and I’ll be damned if I don’t have her taste on my lips if she does.
“He called me, frantic. Crying. Freaking the fuck out.” I cringe as I think of that night. “I showed up, found a scarf around her throat. I couldn’t loosen it. I knew she was dead, but performed CPR anyway. It was too late, though. She was gone.”
“But it was an accident, so you say. Why didn’t he come straight to the police? Why did you cover for him?” she demands, tears welling in her emerald eyes.
“William was worried about his career,” I tell her bluntly.
“And what about yours?” Her voice is shrill.
“I owed him. After what he did for Mom…” I stroke her hair from her face and kiss her again. And again. And again. “We can’t change what happened. It was an accident. I did what I could to protect my friend. The media would have destroyed him. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“But Kate?” she sobs.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur. “I tried, Nat. I really fucking tried. You were there for the trial. There were no signs of a struggle or rape. She suffocated during sex and it’s a fucking tragedy I wish I had the power to undo.”
She starts to cry harder. I tug her over to the bed and help her back into it. With her tucked under my arm, I whisper assurances and apologies into her ear as she cries for her friend. And when she’s all cried out, she speaks.
&nb
sp; “Thank you for telling me.”
And she doesn’t fucking leave.
Two weeks later…
“I need you to do damage control,” Ronan growls over the phone. “Xavi is fucking crazy. You signed Berlin Scandal, you can come deal with this psychopath.”
I groan as I slip out of my bed. “Not like I wasn’t waiting to get my dick sucked or anything,” I bite out as I go on a hunt for some boxers.
“Whatever flavor of the week you have can wait,” he grinds out. “This can’t.”
He hangs up before I have the chance to tell him Natasha isn’t a flavor of the week. She’s all the flavors. Baskin Robbins—all thirty-one flavors. And my delicious little snack was on her way here from class with a texted promise to suck my damn dick.
Sometimes I hate my brother.
I throw on some jeans as I hear the front door open. Walking over to the doorway, I grab the top of the doorframe and lean into the room, seeking out my fucking girl.
She’s distracted by her phone as she tosses her bag and purse down. Most girls wear sexy shit that molds to their skin. Not Nat. Nat wears jeans and hoodies and her cute-as-fuck glasses. Her hair is always in wild, blond disarray. She wears the same worn tennis shoes every damn day. But goddamn is she hot. Helluva lot hotter than any of the women I’ve ever taken to bed with me.
“Did you miss me?” she asks, shooting her gaze over to me for the first time tonight. Her green eyes twinkle with lust as she takes in my bare chest. “I missed you.”
I chuckle as I release the doorframe and saunter over to her. She wraps her arms around my middle as I kiss her deeply. If two weeks ago someone had told me I’d fuck a girl and never want her to leave, I would’ve laughed. But that’s exactly what happened. For two weeks straight, we’ve spent every free moment together.
And the club?
I cleared that schedule because I have something better.
Her fingers find my jeans and she unzips them before diving her hand into my boxers. I groan as she squeezes me.
“I have to leave,” I grumble against her hair and then kiss her head. “I don’t have time for one of your sexy, teasing blowjobs.”
She lifts her head and pouts at me. “You’re not going to the club, are you?”
“Why?” I taunt. “Would you be jealous?”
Her eyes roll. “Don’t be gross.”
Chuckling, I shrug. “Yeah, I guess a lot of those people there are gross. You know I don’t need the club when I have your sweet little body in my bed each night.”
She grins triumphantly at me. “Well, since you have to go, I guess you don’t get to see my new bra and panties.”
I grab the hem of her hoodie, yanking it up over her head. Raking my gaze over the swells of her breasts, I appreciate the way the black, lacy fabric holds her perfect tits in the sexiest of ways. “I have time to take a peek.”
A cute laugh escapes her. “A peek always ends with you seeing everything.”
Smirking at her, I undo her jeans and then push them down her thighs. Her panties match and are sexy as fuck. I bear hug her and carry her squealing ass over to the couch. She whines when I bend her over the back. I give her ass a good swat that makes her yelp before I shove my boxers and jeans down my thighs. Reaching between her thighs, I seek out her clit over her lacy panties. She moans and pushes her butt toward me. Nat is easy to please. Her body is so fucking responsive. I work her hard and fast, knowing I’m pressed for time, until she’s crying out. The moment she’s shuddering with her orgasm, I tug her panties to the side and slide into her tight heat.
“Ren!” she cries out, clenching her cunt around my dick. “Whaaaa!”
Whatever the fuck she was going to say gets cut off when I slam into her hard. I drive into her relentlessly, our bodies slapping loudly. I take pleasure in slapping her ass over her panties because each time I do, she tightens around my dick. Pressing on her back, I flatten her against the cushions, no doubt making it difficult for her to breathe as her face is forced into the fabric. With her ass prone to me, I fuck her hard. From this angle, I know I’m hitting all the sweet spots inside her. Her muffled cry is my only warning that she’s coming again. My cock seems to get sucked deep into her black hole of fucking pleasure. I come with a guttural groan, releasing into her, hot and furious. It isn’t until my dick stops twitching that I realize I forgot to wrap my fucking dick up.
“Shit,” I hiss, yanking out of her.
Cum runs down her inner thigh. Jesus. So fucking hot. And reckless! I’m not reckless. Not with women. Not with sex. I am careful. Fuck.
“I’m clean,” I choke out, frowning down at my seed seeping from her.
“I’m clean too,” she squeaks out, standing up. “It’s okay.” Her cheeks burn bright red with shame. Fuck that.
“Come here,” I demand, pulling her to me. “I’m sorry.”
She stands on her toes and kisses me. “Apology accepted. Do you really have to go?”
“Yeah. Crisis at Harose.”
“I have homework anyway,” she says, pulling up her jeans. “Wake me up when you get home.”
I twist a strand of her blond hair around my finger and tug. “Oh, I will, sweetheart.” I grin wolfishly at her. “You still owe me a blowjob.”
Eight
After grabbing a snack and finishing up some assignments due for school, I take a nap, knowing Ren will wake me up with his tongue when he arrives home.
The past couple of weeks have been the best in my life. I spend most days on schoolwork and every night in a state of bliss. He was unexpected, and we were brought together in the most unconventional of ways. But it feels right. Like I’m supposed to be right here with him.
The sun has set, and the room is shrouded in darkness when I arise from hearing the front door closing. I don’t move, instead wait, holding my breath with anticipation. It’s only been a couple of hours, and I spent one of those sleeping, but I miss him even in sleep. Pathetic.
A silhouette fills the doorway—seconds pass and my heart rate spikes.
The presence in the room feels different, and it doesn’t bring with it the intense longing Ren draws out of me, instead, an ominous chill drapes over my body, blanketing me in unease. Sitting up abruptly when I hear footsteps move across the hardwood floor, a gasp shoots from my lungs and fear trickles into my bloodstream upon realization the form is not Ren’s. I scoot back on the bed until I’m pinned against the headboard. The shadow stalks across the room, stopping at the foot of the bed.
“Who are you?” we both speak in unison.
His voice is curious, bewildered even. It’s not smooth, confident like Ren. And my own is hurried, nervous.
Reaching across the bed, I flick on the lamp to find a well-presented man suited and booted. Blond hair swept neatly across his head, blue eyes gazing down at me.
There’s something off with the way his eyes zone in on the faint marks left on my neck from Ren. Hunger.
“Ren doesn’t usually bring women here.” He frowns. His tongue sweeps out to moisten his lips as he surveys me.
“He made an exception,” I grind out, irritated that he assumes I’m some groupie. “Who are you?” He makes me uncomfortable. I don’t care if he does know Ren. Who just wanders into someone’s bedroom?
“Oh, forgive me, I’m a friend of Ren’s. I was invited here,” he tells me, and then a grin pulls up his lip. Greedy blue eyes scan down my body that’s only covered with an old tee of Ren’s. My legs are bare, gaining his attention. “He left you here for me?” he suddenly announces, a light seemingly going off in his mind. Smirking, he slips out of his jacket and loosens his tie.
No, he fucking didn’t.
Sliding out of the bed, I rush over to where I left my jeans draped over a chair and shove them up my legs.
“What are you doing?” he asks, confused.
“Listen, eh…?”
“William,” he finishes for me, sending a wave of nausea swirling in my stomach.
&nb
sp; “William?” I breathe. I’m so frozen in shock by the turn of events it takes me a second to realize he’s advanced across the room and is only a couple of feet from me.
“Your bruises are so pretty. Let me darken them for you,” he murmurs, reaching out to touch me, making me jerk backward in response.
“Don’t touch me,” I snap.
Narrowing his baby blues on me, he takes a step forward. “Don’t play coy, honey, it’s unbecoming.”
Thud, thud, thud.
How could Ren invite him here with no warning—with not being here? He set you up.
No way. He wouldn’t. I haven’t imagined these past two weeks. The way he touches me. Looks at me. That’s not fake. That’s not been lies. He charms people.
No. Makes you see what you want.
No. He’s a liar.
No. No. No.
William grabs at me, his large palms clammy on my skin. Without thought, my knee jerks upright, straight into his crotch. Howling in pain, he hunches over, grabbing his junk.
“You fucking bitch,” he growls. I move past him to grab my shoes and purse and flee. I need to get out of here. To think—to plan—to decide what I’m going to do about Ren. And about William.
Nine
“They’re fresh, unique. The market needs a band like this.” I yawn, rubbing a hand down my face. I’m bored with this and want to get back to Nat. She fucking consumes my every thought. The little fucking minx is intoxicating.
“It doesn’t matter if they’re going to be a nightmare to manage.” Ronan’s jaw tightens and his eyes narrow on me.
After convincing the lead singer of Berlin Scandal to jot his fucking name on the dotted line, my brother’s been giving me grief. He doesn’t do divas unless they’re young, naïve, and calling him daddy. Xavi wasn’t being a diva per se, he just wanted to make sure they weren’t getting screwed over. The music industry has changed over the years, and artists have a lot more power than they used to. They have a lot more say in the music they produce. That’s the company my brother wanted to make, and we’re a standout label for that reason. We want the talent to be involved in every step of their career. If they’re happy and making music, the audience will believe in them and the money will come with them. Win-win.
