Revel

by Shey Stahl

  I let out a laugh. “Not in a Range Rover.”

  Red shivers, her teeth practically chattering as she wraps her arms tightly around her waist. I offer my jacket but she declines it. “I’m fine. So we have to walk? How far is it?”

  “No.” I point to the snowmobiles in the stall next to us. “We’re taking one of those.” Outside the car, I strap our bags on the back and smile at her. “Hop on, princess.”

  “So cool! I’ve never been on one before.” Her eyes light up. “Can I drive?”

  “Fuck no,” I snort. “I’ve seen you drive. It’s awful.”

  “Oh, please. I’m a wonderful driver.”

  “Yeah? Tell that to the security guard in San Antonio who broke his leg.”

  Undeterred, she waves her hand in my face. “To be fair, I was wearing high heels and trying to drive a golf cart. By the way, he’s totally fine. I sent flowers and beer to him in the hospital.”

  I pull my beanie cap back on and zip my jacket up. “Nice of you, but you’re still not driving.”

  “Well, can I drive at some point?” And then she bats those pretty eyes and juts out her bottom lip. There’s nothing more adorable than a girl with a red nose and snow covering her.

  I cave. She’s too fucking cute. “Maybe.”

  Why is it the sexy ones take advantage of you and the cute ones steal your fucking heart? It’s bullshit.

  We make it halfway to the cabin and Red makes me stop so she can look at the views. She even breaks out a selfie-stick to take fucking pictures of us. “Why are you taking so many pictures?”

  “To remember. Why don’t you?”

  I tap my finger to my temple. “Every memory I have worth remembering is in here.” Benefits of having a terrible memory. There’s only room for the good ones.

  “That was completely uncalled for!” she yells at me when I rip the selfie-stick from her hand, tossing it over a cliff.

  I start up the sled again. “Keep it up and I’ll toss the phone too.”

  She swings a leg over and settles in behind me, her arms snaking around my waist. “You’re so mean sometimes.”

  I look over my shoulder at her. “Princess, you haven’t seen mean.”

  Red lays her head on my back. “Something tells me you’re right.”

  “It sounds like thunder?” Red notes as I unlock the door to the cabin, our shoulders pressed together.

  “It’s snow falling off the trees and hitting the ground.” I look over at her, shocking green eyes focused on mine. Do you notice the way she’s watching me? She knows why we’re here and how, inside this cabin, everything we’ve been doing these last few weeks changes. The reality of it hits me and my heart thuds like the rhythm of an angry beat. Knowing what will happen once this door’s open, I can barely draw in breath.

  Remember all that no sex talk? It’s out the goddamn window because as soon as we’re in the room, I can’t keep my hands off her. I’m acting on pure need, the taste of her on my tongue similar to the high I get on stage. It’s controlling our every movement.

  I intend on being gentle, but am I ever? My plan had been to take her upstairs and show her there’s more to this, but it’s not going down like that. The moment I have the door open, she’s curious and looking around and stripping off her clothes in the process. Hat by the door, scarf next to the stove, jacket hanging on a lamp, boots next to the chair.

  There she is, overlooking the forest blanketed in a fresh dusting of snow and more coming down.

  One look at her red hair shimmering against the firelight, I’m convinced I might never leave this place again as long as she’s here. Fuck music, fuck the tour, the rest of the world, I don’t need any of it but this girl, in this place.

  Red gestures with a small nod to the crackling fire. “Is there someone else here?”

  Running my hand over my head, I strip off my hat and jacket, tossing both on the floor near the door, then push the sleeves of my sweater up to my elbows. “I have a guy who takes care of this place. Had him come start a fire and get it warm in here.”

  “That was nice of you.”

  I shrug.

  “When was the last time you were here?”

  “It’s been a while.”

  Red leans against the back of the sofa, smiling as she brushes her hair out of her face. “Now what?”

  Do you notice my breathing? Hers? What the fuck is wrong with us?

  I’ll tell you. Four fucking years of teasing is what’s wrong with us.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I reach for the liquor cabinet and pull out two glasses. “Want a drink?”

  “I don’t want to be drunk,” she admits, her voice tender. “And I’d like it if you weren’t either.”

  Heavy request there. Have I ever been not drunk? I glance over at her, over my shoulder, and then force myself to look away. If I don’t, I’m going to walk over there, bend her over the couch and fuck her. I want to take my time with her. I’ve basically been obsessing about her since I met her, and now that I’ve allowed myself to bite the apple, if you will, it’s taking everything in me not to fucking devour it.

  She deserves better.

  With my back to her, I bring an unsteady hand to my lips and down a shot of Middleton. Then another. I’m not sure why I’m nervous, just that I am for some reason. When I’ve had three shots, I turn to face Red and peel my sweater off.

  Licking her lips, her eyes rake down my chest to my waist. She smiles seductively, and draws that beautiful plump bottom lip between her teeth. “Keep going.”

  I resist, and take another step toward her. “You first.”

  Crossing her arms, she reaches for the hem of her sweater and slowly raises it up, only to let it fall at her feet, a curtain of curly scarlet hair blanketing my view of her chest.

  Straightening her posture, she smiles at me, lifting her bra strap.

  I smile, and I breathe in, and fuck if it isn’t shaky. I’ve never had such a sight burn its way inside my mind like this woman has. I bet I could close my eyes now, and I’d still remember every single detail about her.

  Fear and anxiety fill her eyes. “What happens now?” she asks, her voice timid.

  We fuck. I wait, deciding on my choice of words. “You’re not looking for a boyfriend?”

  “No.”

  Look at her face so full of innocence. She’s lying. I want to call her out on it, but I don’t. At least not now. Her cheeks flush and her eyes, God, I want to get lost in them. “You and me together. . . it would destroy you,” I admit, wondering if she understands the meaning.

  She says nothing, and it tells me she doesn’t.

  When her bra falls to the floor at her bare feet, I shake my head and take a step toward her. Reaching for me, she seems intent on moving quickly, our mouths colliding in messy kisses. Time is meaningless.

  After proclaiming all that “you should stay innocent and untouched” shit, I came up with a plan for the next three days. Okay, admittedly, it’s not a stable one, but it’s there. I’m going to be gentle and take my time, but the moment I see her standing inside half-naked, bathed in firelight, all plans go out the fucking window. It’s as if they hadn’t been there at all.

  Fuck you, gentle. I ain’t got patience for you tonight.

  I grab her wrist, yanking her toward me, and slide my hands under her ass. I lift her up, and she wraps her arms around my shoulders as we fall back on the couch with her beneath me. Eager for more friction, I rock into her as we kiss.

  I want to take her upstairs to the bed, but I can’t pry myself away from her to do it. Hell, look at me. It’s like I’m a teenager again with barely enough self-control to keep from yanking myself out of my jeans, sinking into her sweet wet cunt and fucking her without a care as to what happens next or if she enjoys it. It crosses my mind.

  Burning with unrelenting passion, my entire body is on fire, flames licking every inch. Drawing back, I peer down at her, admiring her body and the way she looks beneath me. I fucking love the
idea of her being held captive by me, held hostage at my disposal to do what I want with her, when I want.

  Fire dances in her eyes as she looks up at me, our silhouettes reflecting on the wall behind us. Leaning in, I kiss her, fearing what’s to come.

  Ya dumb fuck. Pull your shit together.

  Raising up on my forearms, I keep my weight pressed into her, but she senses the hesitation, the pause.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks meekly. “What are you waiting for?”

  “Why did you come here with me?”

  Her chest rises and falls steadily, each breath more labored than the last. “Because I wanted to be alone with you. . . . I want you to fuck me.”

  “And you’re sure about that?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know how fucking jealous I am of the guys you’ve fucked before me? How jealous I am of him?”

  She knows who I’m referring to. It’s why I’ve hated Breckin for so long. “You shouldn’t be.”

  “I know I shouldn’t be,” I tell her, untangling myself from her, “but that’s not the point.” Back on my knees, I stare down at her and push my hand up her thigh to the juncture between her legs over her jeans. Just like I suspect, she’s warm, and I cup her hot, swollen pussy. If I were to stick my hands inside her jeans, I bet she’s so fucking wet for me. Not for Breckin, whoever else she’s fucked, but me. Only me. Licking my lips, I wink at her. “But tonight, I’m taking what’s always been mine. Every man you’ve been with, they’re not like me, Princess.”

  She looks so fucking innocent when she whispers, “I’ve only been with him.”

  I don’t want to hear that. I’m not sure why, but it pisses me off for some strange reason. Because she deserves better than him, and it’s not me either. As much as I don’t like that guy, I’m no better for her.

  My stare catches on hers. I can’t look away. “I’m not entirely sure what it is you do to me,” I tell her, leaning forward so that my lips graze her ear. “But you make me fucking crazy. I can’t. . . . Look at me, Red.” She does, her beautiful green eyes heavy with lust. My hand falls away and I push forward with my pelvis, grinding into her pussy. “I want to be rough with you and show you what I mean, but I need to know you’re okay with that.” I wait for her answer. She swallows, saying nothing. So I press, “Tell me. You have to say it.”

  “It’s what I want,” she admits. Do you hear the pleading in her voice? Or what about that desperate little sigh that follows? She’s ready for anything I’m willing to give her. She wants me to lose control with her. When I don’t move, she adds, “Please.”

  “Please what?” I stare at her. She really has no idea. The things I want to do to this woman—they should be fucking illegal.

  Her eyes slide to mine. “What do I have to do to prove to you I want you? Do you want me to put it in writing? Should I sign a contract?”

  Not finding humor in her teasing, I continue staring.

  Blinking slowly, there’s a seductive edge to her words, something I wasn’t prepared for from her. “I want you to use me. I want everything and anything you’ll give me. All of it. I want to know what it’s like to be with you.”

  Do you hear the quick sharp breath I take? What about the nervousness gnawing at me and the way I sink my teeth into the inside of my cheek? That’s a sign of a conflicted man. That guy, the one with his arms shaking as he holds himself above the girl he’s been obsessing about for years, he’s con-fucking-flicted.

  “What are you talking about?” I finally ask, my jaw clenching.

  One of her hands slides up my forearm, over my bicep and then to my chest where she draws circles over my pec. “I know your reputation with women.” Her voice drops, lower and the look in her eyes changes from curiosity to downright lust. “I want that side of you.”

  Jesus Christ. Is she for real? What the fuck has she heard? I suppose it’s all over the internet. Never make a sex tape. It’ll haunt your ass forever.

  So she wants that guy? The destructive asshole who doesn’t give a fuck. Of course she wants that guy. All the good girls do.

  I guess that’s all I need to hear, isn’t it? So you’re probably wondering why the hesitation?

  I’m not entirely sure. Here is this unbelievably beautiful woman before me, waiting and willing to do absolutely anything I desire. And to be clear—I have a lot of fucked-up things in mind—but I don’t think I can do those things to her. Not this girl. Not Red.

  Swallowing hard, I push back away from her, trying to gain some composure. Standing, I reach for the button of my jeans. “Stand up,” I tell her, and she does what I ask.

  Without having to be asked, she removes her jeans, leaving her completely naked. She smiles, biting back a laugh. “Do I give you a safe word or something?”

  Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. “Shut up.” I take some time to stare at her once again. She’s fucking beautiful. Every inch of her freckled skin from her tits and the pebbled buds of her nipples. The curve of her thick hips and the smooth, delicate pussy, it’s nearly too much. She’s too much.

  Red smiles, slapping at me with a playful edge. “If you’re not going to give me a safe word, I’ll yell pineapple.” Then she stares at me expectedly. “Take your pants off already!”

  I don’t like to be completely naked during sex. Partly because women steal my clothes, but with Red, I want everything she has to give. That includes our bodies, every inch against one another.

  “Hope you’re ready for this.” I tip my head toward the floor. “On your knees, Princess.”

  Like she’s been told to do this before, she does exactly as I say.

  It hits me then. The idea of her being on her knees for anyone but me, and it doesn’t sit well. Possessiveness surges inside me, takes my words and turns them tight and forced.

  My jaw clenches when I point to my boxers. “Take them off,” I tell her. Impatiently, her hands sweep over my hips gripping the band of my black boxer briefs, only I stop her. I take a firm grip on her wrists, squeezing harder than necessary to give her the first taste of aggression. “No. With your teeth.”

  While I never intend to touch her in anger, dominating in bed can easily be perceived that way, and I’m not sure she understands that just yet.

  Swallowing, Red licks her lips, her mouth never far from my skin. She kisses a path from my hip, to my belly button, and then back again. Every muscle in my body tenses in anticipation. Slipping her finger inside the band, she gains the leverage needed to wrap her plump lips around the elastic and begins to tug. I’m thoroughly fucking impressed and a little concerned she’s done this before, and she’s good at being dirty because she has them off in a heartbeat. And then she does quite possibly the sexiest thing ever. She looks up at me, her thick lashes casting shadows on her creamy white skin and licks the head of my cock. Just once. “Is this allowed?”

  I run my thumb along her lower lip, pushing it down to open her mouth more. Greedily, she sucks on my fingers. “You want to?” I take my cock in one hand, and the back of her head in the other, threading my fingers through her hair. “Can you handle it?”

  She nods, wrapping her lips around the head of my cock.

  God. Damn.

  I haven’t been with anyone since that first day of the tour, yet somehow, in that month and a half, it seems I’ve forgotten how good getting head feels. I’m gathering she’s had some experience doing this because immediately she’s stroking the underside of my cock with her tongue, jamming me all the way in and then slowly withdrawing.

  Her grip replaces mine on my cock, and then with a little more determination, she speeds her motions. With her eyes on mine, my grip on the back of her head tightens, and it takes everything in me to resist the primal urge inside me to fuck her mouth like I want to.

  I want it hard.

  I want her eyes watering, mascara-black tears sliding down her flushed cheeks hollowed out from sucking me off so hard.

  I want her red lipstick smeared over her hot
swollen lips like she’s some kind of porn star, needy and desperate for more.

  I want to hit the back of her throat until she gags.

  I want to reach the point of no return and then come on her face because it’s what she really wants.

  “Fuck my mouth, Rev?” she pleads when she pulls away for a breath, her eyes fluttering closed.

  I push inside her mouth harder, hitting the back of her throat. She hums, and I hear the choke, but I don’t stop. She wants me to fuck her, and if she’s going to call me Rev, well, she knows what it means and what she’s asking for. She had her chance to tell me no.

  I push in again, and again.

  Still buried deep inside her mouth, I grab her chin and jerk her head up. Tears slide from the corner of her eyes, black mascara smearing. “You crave this side of me, don’t you?”

  She nods, her hands sneaking around to grab the cheeks of my ass and forcing me deeper inside her mouth.

  I think I just fell in love.

  “Princess.” A strangled curse falls from my lips. “You drive me fucking crazy.”

  She smiles, winking at me.

  With a good grip on her hair, I pound into her hot wet mouth, the sounds of spit and her gagging driving me forward. But she never tells me to stop. Not once. If anything, I get hums of approval and tiny little whimpering moans for more.

  I let her do her thing a few more times, but then I have that all too familiar stirring in my groin, the warmth I crave, but I want more of her. I pull out.

  Still on her knees, she smiles up at me, her swollen lips so fucking hot and kissable. I yank her to her feet and bring my hands to her face, cupping her cheeks and assaulting her mouth with mine. “Goddamn,” I groan into her mouth, deepening the kiss. I kiss her until we’re both breathless and greedy for more. I kiss her until it’s not enough, until the need consumes me.

  I push her back against the couch so she’s sitting, and then I drop to my knees before her. I know I’m getting to the point where nothing else matters aside from getting deep inside her pussy, but I want her to get off first. I’d like to tell you this is for her benefit, and that’s partially true, but naturally, it’s all about me. I can’t wait to taste her.