by Amity Cross
His expression darkened, the storm inside him raging. “Good,” he said, “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
His hands thrust into my hair and he pulled me close, his mouth covering mine. He held me tight as he forced his tongue between my lips, and my core flared.
My anger mixed with sexual desire and my entire body ignited with a passion I never knew I held. I kissed him back, my tongue entwining with his as I tugged at his shirt. In that moment, I needed him more than I ever had.
His jealousy and anger cast a fear in me that was greater than anything I’d ever felt before. They were emotions that could be exploited, and today was evidence of that. I needed to know we could overcome it. I needed him to take me to the edge and leap.
We undressed each other, tearing at our clothes with desperate hands. I shoved his pants down, taking his boxers with them, and his cock sprang free. He was hard, but it seemed like he always was when we were alone, and I wondered if it was just lust that drove us to such heights.
He took me in his arms and threw me down onto the bed, climbing over me and wrenching my legs open. He went down, latching his mouth onto my core as if he were ravenous for my desire. My fingers tightened around the sheets as his tongue laved my clit, and the moment his fingers pushed into me, I cried out.
I worked my body onto his lips and fingers, writhing in the sheets. We’d had sex just about every way I could imagine, but this felt different—more intense, more driven by physical need. Fuck, it was addictive, and I didn’t want him to stop.
When Sebastian moved up my body and left me wanting, I moaned, rising from the mattress. He was over me again, his body pinning me in place, his gaze too hot to handle.
“Sebastian.”
“I know,” he whispered, his breath hot against my skin. “I know.”
I trembled as he guided his cock to my opening, and when he thrust inside me, I came apart. He didn’t stop moving, pushing my body to its limits and forcing my orgasm to tear me apart…and it did.
I was lost to the sensation, barely aware of the room around us as we fucked. Sebastian grunted, his breath hot and his hands hard as he pounded into me. There was no other word for it. His body slammed into mine and I opened up to him, wanting more. The intensity, the closeness, and the raw energy was intoxicating.
It felt as if I’d just finished coming when I rose again, this time his cock pulsed into me as I tightened around his shaft. We were a hot mess of sensation, entwined and buried in one another.
It wasn’t love, but something else.
Lust.
Afterwards, we lay in bed together, staring at the ceiling like the plaster held some kind of secret that would save us both.
“Remember what you wrote to me in that letter?” I asked, my breath still heaving in my chest. “You see me for who I really am, not the product up on a stage.”
“The eye of the storm,” he murmured.
“We can’t let them get to us. They want to see us torn apart. They want to hurt us. We can’t let them. If we have to keep reminding each other of that every day, then that’s what we’ll do.”
When he didn’t reply, I turned my head.
“The guy at the radio station… ”Sebastian looked sheepish, like he’d stuck his foot in something he couldn’t get out of.
“What did he do?”
“He asked if I loved you.”
“And you cracked the shits?” I didn’t want to ask about his answer because it’d obviously triggered his whirlwind of destruction.
“Let’s just say I lived up to my reputation.”
“Oh, so it’ll be on Twitter? I have one of those now.”
“Heaven help us.”
“You’re religious now?”
“Not really, but I’ve been told I swear too much.”
“You do say fuck a lot.”
Glad the conversation had steered away from the troublesome L-word, I thought about everything I knew about Sebastian, and my relationship with the word. My mother had been quick to love and after my father had killed himself, his loss had destroyed her. I was entirely sure if I hadn’t been around, she would’ve ended up over the same cliff—literally. It was possible I was holding back because of those experiences, just like Sebastian’s past had shaped him to fear others leaving him.
I didn’t know what to do, other than to keep fighting.
“Sebastian,” I traced the line of his jaw, my fingertip scratching over his stubble, “I just… Let’s not overcomplicate it. Screw all those labels and expectations. Let’s just be together on our terms. Can we just…be?”
His lips curved upwards, his stormy eyes studying mine. “I like the sound of that.”
15
Sebastian
I didn’t even know what city we were in anymore.
Less than a month on this nightmare tour and Juniper and I were already drifting apart. This world was poison and I was well and truly stuck in it.
“Why is it so quiet in here?” Josh declared, striding into my dressing room backstage at…wherever we were. “Where’s the party?”
“Not in the mood,” I muttered.
“You’re always so broody.” He pilfered a beer from the ice bucket on the bench. “Women might find it sexy, but I think you’re sulking.”
I sighed, then bit my tongue. Right before a show wasn’t the time to get into a fight, even though I could go a few punches right about now.
Josh smirked at me. “I heard you fired your gay assistant because you thought he was trying to work his way into Juniper’s knickers.”
Yeah, and what a shit storm I’d created. Juniper was lonely. I didn’t have to be a fucking genius to see it. Harry made her happy, he did his job, and he was professional about it. Besides, it was like she said—he liked cock and he seemed to be the male version of Vanessa.
“I rehired him,” I snapped. “And I didn’t know he was gay.”
“He’s the straight gay man, he fools everyone.” Josh nursed his beer against his chest and leaned against the wall. Looking me over, he smirked. “Bad press got you down?”
I grunted and picked up a beer. My temper tantrum during the radio interview the other day had caused a flurry of stories to surface in the media, and now I was stuck with getting a million fucking notifications from randoms tagging me in their bloody twits or whatever they were called.
“I just want to play music with you guys and spend time with Juniper. I don’t want the other part.”
“That other part is called life, man.”
I twisted the cap off my beer and lifted the bottle to my lips. Taking a long draught, I started to feel tired of the whole circus. Maybe I just needed a break.
“Have you seen her?”
“Juniper?” Josh shrugged. “Last I saw, she was hanging out with Nate and Damon in my dressing room playing poker. That’s why I’m here.”
“Juniper’s playing poker?” My eyebrows rose. “Stripping better not be involved.”
“Na, but if there was, she wouldn’t be the naked one. Why do you think I bailed? She’s a hustler, that one. Trust you to find her.”
“You better go back and save them,” I said. “Look out for her, huh?”
He flashed me a confused look. “Why? What are you doing?”
“I just need a sec, okay?”
He shrugged. “Whatever. You better leave your wallet behind, though.”
When he was gone, I set down the beer and stared into the mirror. I looked old. When the fuck did that happen?
My gaze fixed onto a figure behind me and I turned, my breath catching as my gaze met a pair of hazel eyes. “Mallory.”
“Hey, Seb.”
Her dark hair was long and wavy, and when she shook her head, the scent of jasmine seemed to float across the room. Soft, olive skin accentuated her exotic looks—along with a pound of airbrushed makeup—and her mascara-laden eyelashes fluttered. She was wearing a tiny dress—black with a silver zipper that ran from the bottom to the top
—and a pair of matching six-inch stripper heels. In short, she looked exactly like she always did—in photos, music videos, at one of her concerts, at the club, on the street—and that was unobtainable.
She moved into the room, her long legs making short work of the distance. Her entourage was nowhere in sight and that could only mean she was up to something.
“I’ve been trying to call you,” she said, her hands resting on my chest. “You haven’t called me back.”
“I got a new number,” I replied, my voice thin.
“You should’ve given it to me. I’ve been trying to catch you ever since you landed in LA.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve been busy.”
Her palm caressed my chest, then rose to my cheek. “I miss you.”
I grabbed her wrist and yanked her hand away. “I don’t know who let you in, but you need to leave.”
“That’s no way to greet a friend.”
She could pout and complain all she liked. Mallory Grigorio wasn’t here for an amicable catch up…she was here to make trouble.
I rolled my eyes and stepped around her, striding from the room. I was not in the mood to humour her manipulations tonight. If Juniper ran into her, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Damon’s sister, Victoria, had already been out fishing, and whatever Juniper had said to her had likely provoked Mallory’s appearance tonight.
The hallway was empty and I cursed. The one time I needed security and they were nowhere to be found.
“Sebastian!” Mallory trotted after me, her heels clacking on the concrete floor. “I came here for you!”
I stopped in my tracks, my heart skipping a beat. Not because I wanted her to say those words to me, but because I didn’t. All I’d ever wanted from Mallory was bragging rights. I could go to the guys and tell them how I’d banged a pop star and we’d high-five each other. It was shallow and made me a complete dick, but it was the truth. I’d bagged her, and she didn’t want things to end because of the exposure it gave her to the press. It wasn’t about feelings or a deeper connection, and just like every other soul sucking parasite out there, she was in it for the money.
Turning, I glared at her. “This isn’t a fucking romance, Mallory.”
She rolled her eyes and pouted. “Don’t tell me you’re in love with that gold-digging whore. I wouldn’t believe it.”
“You sure love describing yourself in third person.”
“I’d really like to meet Juniper,” she said, craning her neck. “Where is she?”
Snarling, I grabbed her arm and steered her into the nearest room, which turned out to be little more than a storage closet.
Mallory laughed, the sound echoing off the walls. Turning, she flicked her hair and thrust her breasts towards me.
“A storage closet? Seb, you’re so naughty. You better close the door.”
“You need to back off.” My scowl intensified as I slammed the door closed. Once upon a time, I probably would’ve fucked her in here, but that was in a dark time before I’d met Juniper Rowe on the beach.
“Back off? Why would I do that?” She smiled at me as her fingers tugged at the zipper on the front of her dress. “I’m wet, Seb. Don’t you want to feel it?”
“Mallory,” I warned.
“What?” She pouted and pulled the zipper all the way down to her waist. Her bare breasts spilled out and she took a step towards me. “You always loved these, didn’t you?”
“I’m with Juniper.”
“Oh, we both know she’s just a passing phase. You always come back to me. Besides… do you want one of the boys, or a real woman?” Her palm settled over my crotch and she began to caress my cock. “Is that an erection I feel? You can fuck me right here if you want. I’ll bend over. I’ll even let you fuck me bare.”
“You’re such a vapid, self-centered, fake piece of shit,” I said, shoving her away with a snarl.
Mallory gasped, and her palm connected with my cheek, the movement causing her breasts to sway. “Bastard!”
“Whatever you’re up to, you need to drop it,” I said, ignoring the sting from her slap. “You and I are over. Honestly, we were never on to begin with. You were an easy lay, Mallory.”
“I chose you!” she cried. “Do you know how many men are dying to spend a night with me?”
“Then go spend a night with all of them,” I declared, barely holding onto my anger. “You didn’t choose me, Mallory. Vix orchestrated everything for the press. None of this was real.”
“Right. I see how it is.” Her lip curled as she zipped her breasts back into her barely-there dress. “I can tell you exactly what’s real, Sebastian. Video.”
“If you think you’re going to blackmail me, then you’re shit outta luck,” I drawled. “Juniper knows who I was. She’s with me despite all of that. Seeing it won’t change a single thing.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I have plenty of footage that’ll destroy you,” she purred.
“Then we both go down,” I shot back. “You’ve got nothing.”
“You’ve denied me one time too many,” she murmured, running the tip of her finger along my jaw. “If you want to play, then we’ll play.”
I knocked her hand away. “Get out.”
Her expression turned cold and I shivered despite the warmth.
“Gladly,” she said, backing away. “Suddenly, I feel so bored.”
As she left the storage closet, a strange pain tore through my chest. There was no comparison between Mallory and Juniper, but her parting words struck at my fear like nothing else had. I feel so bored.
I raked my hands through my hair and cursed. Juniper was right, I swore too much.
Shoving out of the closet, I strode down the hall, searching for Josh’s dressing room.
16
Juniper
I slapped down my cards and grinned. “Pay up, suckers!”
Damon cursed and tugged at his hair.
“No one is this good their first time playing poker,” Nate said, slamming down his losing hand.
“Maybe I’ve finally found my calling,” I suggested, scooping up my winnings—a pile of cash, a bottle of pricy whiskey, and Damon’s Rolex—before flashing the guys a smile, “professional poker player.”
Life was good today. The sale had finally gone through for The Page Break and I was now five hundred and thirty thousand dollars richer. I should probably talk to a financial adviser, but I was content looking at my bank balance for now.
I’d also talked to Vanessa, who’d given me a run down on all the latest gossip from Point Mambie. It seemed someone had sent her a box of Beneath merchandise as payment for all the muscles that helped me move out of the shop—T-shirts, CDs, stubby holders, and hoodies—you name it, Sebastian had sent it. Well, Harry probably sent it, but the sentiment was there.
“Fuck, not the watch!” Damon exclaimed.
“She’s going to give it to Seb, who’s going to rub it in your face,” Nate said, much to the amusement of the assembled crew in the room.
Pre-concert parties had always been a thing, and I’d always been too shy to participate, but in the spirit of getting to know Sebastian’s mismatched family, here I was—hustling.
“Na, I don’t want your watch, D,” I said tossing it back to him.
“I don’t know what’s worse,” Jase the guitar tech said. “A drummer, or a drummer with a Rolex.”
The entire room burst into riotous laughter and I glanced up, catching sight of Sebastian lingering by the door. Grinning, I leapt to my feet and went to stand with him. I slid my hands over his waist and breathed in his scent. Fuck, I loved how he smelt.
“I leave you with them for five minutes and they’ve got you gambling,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
“I took them to the cleaners, just so you know. I won Damon’s Rolex.”
“Yeah? Where is it?”
“I couldn’t stand his pouting so I gave it back.”
“I don’t fucking pout!” Damon shouted from be
hind us.
I laughed, but Sebastian’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, smoothing my hands over his chest.
“Nothing, I…” he trailed off, glancing down the hall.
“Sebastian.”
He turned his gaze back onto me, his blue-grey eyes swirling. Something was bothering him, but a lot of things seemed to lately. The non-stop press, the lack of downtime, the constant scrutiny that was placed on me. Besides the paparazzi that followed us from hotel to venue, venue to hotel, I was spared most of the grilling from the press. Sebastian was the one shouldering most of the pressure and it seemed to be showing tonight.
“Do you wanna talk?” I murmured so the others couldn’t hear.
Behind us, music was blaring out of a pair of Bluetooth speakers and the poker game had started up again. One of the lighting engineers—who was supposed to be out in the arena setting up the rig for that night’s concert—had sat in my place and was dealing the next hand. The booze was flowing, and someone had placed a bet with a little baggie of white powder. I hadn’t seen much of the infamous wild side of Beneath, but it was starting to show its claws tonight.
I followed Sebastian’s gaze to the drugs and frowned. A second passed before he blinked and moved his attention back to me.
“Yeah,” he said.
When we got back to his dressing room, he locked the door behind us.
“What’s happening?” I asked, watching his brow crease deepen.
“Nothing. I—”
“Sebastian, you can tell me things. Anything you want.”
“I know I can. It’s just…”
“Just?” I waited for him to formulate the words in his mind.
“You’re going to get bored and leave me,” he said. “If I’m not around and if I can’t look after you the way you need, I…I can’t lose you, Juniper.”
I wondered what had triggered him this time. He was more on edge than usual and I didn’t like it when he was unsure. To me, Sebastian had always been the strong one in our relationship, even though he loved to keep hold of some things. Mystery was exciting and all, but too much of it did strange things to the heart.
