Faster

by Deana Birch

  “Everyone is interested in Shane.” She sat up straighter. “I’m telling you this to protect Shane. I don’t want to see him self-destruct and lose Jake as a friend. So I’m arming you with the truth in hopes that you can see the situation for what it is and not go down the dark and twisted path that is our Shane Murphy.”

  I couldn’t help but glance at him and found him staring back. “Does he know you’re telling me this?”

  “He does. We talked about it this morning after I watched him have sex with a long-haired brunette with olive skin and your build.”

  What. The. Every. Actual. Fuck? My brain downshifted. I skipped the part about him having sex in front of her. But with a Louana doll? What was that about? And as much as I wanted to know, I did not want the answer. I blinked hard and exhaled.

  “Right, but Celeste, I’m honestly not interested in Shane.”

  “Keep telling yourself as much and you’ll be fine.” She fiddled with a bracelet around her wrist.

  I resented the implication my statement wasn’t true. Even though I was well aware of Shane’s sexual energy, it didn’t mean I would jump at the chance to sleep with him.

  “Don’t worry,” she added. “Like any other boy with a toy, he will get tired of the little games he’s playing and move on to something else. Shane always does.”

  Celeste left me sitting alone on the couch, my entire being frozen. She went over to Shane, said something in his ear, gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, and left. I didn’t have much time to digest the last five minutes before Jake was next to me.

  “Hey, it’s time. Come and watch from the side of the stage.”

  With a forced smile, I followed, falling in line with Gina.

  It wasn’t like I’d never been to a concert, but I’d never been side stage at a rock show. And there were two distinct factors immediately understood: volume and heat. “Faster” was third on their set list, and the crowd erupted when they played it. After the last song, Jake came directly over to me, drenched from head to toe. His drum tech handed him a towel, a bottle of water, and a new black T-shirt. He pecked my cheek, wiggled out of his soaked tank top, and dried his torso with the towel.

  “So?”

  I couldn’t believe he was asking for my approval.

  “Amazing. You’re amazing. I loved it. Watching you is so much fun,” I gushed.

  “Breakdown?” asked John as the crowd screamed for their encore.

  “Yes,” answered Shane.

  “Frankie, you’re up,” Jake said, handing his drumsticks to his tech.

  “Be right back.” He kissed me again and the band was back onstage, much to the delight of their fans.

  The song had new meaning after my conversation with Celeste. I was sure I could feel an occasional stare from Shane, but I didn’t dare look in his direction. Especially during the chorus. I kept my eyes fixed on Jake, who played keyboards and sang backup. I smiled at him and he winked. Damn, those winks sent shivers down my spine.

  ⸎

  It became apparent that dating a rock star—if dating was what I was doing—equaled waiting around on said rock star. The band had showered, and people filtered into the backstage area. A journalist questioned Jake about how he wrote “Faster.”

  “I have a pretty specific writing process,” he explained to the tattooed reporter in front of him. “I have a pencil, paper, and a piano—the three Ps.”

  “Never a pen?” joked the journalist.

  “Nope. Number two pencil, yellow legal pad, and a proper piano. I’ve tried other variations, but it’s too distracting. Sometimes I use a guitar, but after the idea has been fleshed out on the piano.”

  “It’s the only song you authored on the album. How did it come about?”

  “Well, by the time Sam and I joined the band, John and Shane had pretty much written everything and had a clear idea of the creative direction. But the label wasn’t satisfied. They didn’t feel like they had their hit, which is bullshit, because if you listen to the rest of the album, there are great songs there. Anyway, I wrote in previous bands, and so I stayed late one night and banged it out.”

  “So to speak.”

  “Yeah.” Jake chuckled.

  “And the inspiration?”

  “No one in particular. What can I say? Sex really does sell.”

  “Cool. Thanks, man. I think I got everything I need. Nice meeting you, and great show, dude.”

  “Cheers.” Jake lifted his beer, moved over to me, and pulled me close.

  After a kiss on my exposed neck, he said, “Have I mentioned how gorgeous you are?”

  “Have I mentioned I’m ready to renegotiate our terms?”

  Jake pushed me to arm’s length and gave me a twisted and curious look. Then his eyes lit up. “You’re coming to Texas?”

  “No. I’d like to remove the gambling stipulation.”

  “What’s the catch?” He squinted.

  “No catch. You’re too sexy; it’s driving me crazy,” I admitted, reaching for his hand.

  “You’re serious?” His scruffy chin tucked in, and those perfect lips brushed together.

  “Yup.”

  “I don’t even care if this is some kind of witchcraft. Let me check in with Phil and we’re out of here.” He downed his beer, dropped my hand, and was gone.

  I squeezed through the crowd to find Sam and Gina. They were talking to the two NBA players from the night before, who both had two very pretty but scantily clad women on their arms. To their left, John chatted up a gorgeous Asian girl, and Shane held court on the couch, no Celeste in sight. Dark-haired women engulfed him.

  Gina wrapped her arms around me, squeezed me tight, and said, “See you in Texas.”

  “I’m not going to Texas!” I insisted.

  “Don’t be silly.” She waved her dismissal.

  “Hey.” I turned back to them. “Did you notice there are basically no blondes back here tonight?”

  “Oh, yeah. Shane told Phil and security brunettes only. Who knows why.” Sam shook his head and went back to the basketball players.

  I buried my fears deep down inside me and decided to put my manners down there too. I skipped saying goodbye and thank you to Shane and John. I would send a text to Phil the next day. I found Jake by the door.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “You have no idea.” He changed his tone and reached for my hand. “Walk fast, stay close, and keep your head down.” Jake tightened his grip and we hastened back to the hotel.

  Once we got to the elevators, the fans were gone and we were a normal couple waiting to go up to our room. Couple. We were a couple. Going upstairs to do very happy couple things.

  We exited the elevator in silence and I pulled the key card out of my bag to let us in the room. As I kicked off my heels, Jake was already unzipping the back of my dress. He slipped the dress off my shoulders and it fell to the floor. I turned so our mouths could meet, and his hands slid down to my ass.

  “Mmmm,” he said. “I do love this ass.”

  “It’s all yours.”

  “Really?” he said in a slow, low voice.

  Uh-oh. What had I agreed to?

  As if reading my mind or feeling my trepidation, he said, “Don’t worry, you’re nowhere near ready for that.”

  “What if I’m never ready?” I didn’t want to ruin the moment, but I needed to be honest with him.

  “I’ll take you any way you want.”

  I stepped back so he could see me. The lights were off, but the curtains were still open, the bright lights of Las Vegas once again setting the perfect backdrop. I reached around and unhooked my bra, letting it slither off before tossing it on the floor.

  “I’d like you right here.” I pointed below my navel. “Right now, please.” I kept my eyes locked on him and back stepped to the bed, where I dropped my panties to the floor.

  “How can I refuse such nice manners?” He followed me, undressing himself on the way. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” Jake cl
imbed on top of me and kissed down my stomach.

  His slow assault with his hand and mouth worked me into a bona fide frenzy. When I was about to explode, he stopped shy.

  “What are you doing?” I complained and sat up. “I was so close.”

  He put his fingers back inside me and looked up. “Say please.”

  Oh, dear Lord.

  The brush of my happy place reminded me of what was waiting.

  Fine.

  I lay back. “Please.”

  He returned to his original intention, and I climbed back within reach of ecstasy. Then he stopped. Again.

  In a snarky whisper he said, “Say please, Jake.”

  “Please, Jake.” I closed my eyes so he couldn’t see me roll them.

  He took me back to the edge, then slowed to a turtle’s pace.

  “Say please, Jake. Can I come?”

  This was torture. I was on the fringe and then nothing. I had to relent. My body would never forgive me if I didn’t.

  “Please, Jake. Can I come?” I rasped.

  He worked me back up, then the smug bastard stopped yet again.

  “Say please, Jake, can I come to Texas?” He continued his game but added his wondrous mouth. I knew if I said it, he would give me my release.

  Fuck it.

  “Please, Jake, can I come to Texas?”

  He delivered what I was craving.

  Aftershocks and whimpering complete, Jake kissed my stomach and rolled from his shoulder to his back.

  “Yes. I’d be delighted if you came to Texas. I’m so glad you asked.”

  My eyes were closed, but I could feel his victorious grin. “You don’t fight fair.” Then it hit me. “You’ve been planning this!” I climbed on top of him and peered down.

  He lifted his eyebrows twice.

  “Don’t gloat; it’s rude. Jesus, you’re even sexy when you’re being pompous. I’m so screwed.”

  He flipped me over and hovered. “You’re about to be.”

  It was a lottery guessing what flavor of Jake I would find in bed, and it was also part of the fun of being with him. So far, every physical street we had gone down had been amazing. But in the moments that followed, he wasn’t rushing anything.

  “Fuck,” he whispered in my ear. “You. Feel. So. Good.” He pushed into me as deep as he could and kissed me while he rocked in and out.

  When I moved on top of him, I kept our sleepy pace, all the time staring him in the eyes. My hips lifted, allowing his tip to just barely stay in, and then I lowered back down with delay to take him all.

  He closed his eyes and hardened even more inside me. A massive moan bellowed from his scrunched face. His fingers dug into my flesh as he came.

  The rise and fall of his chest eventually calmed and he said, “Jesus Christ. I think I’m going to have to write a song called ‘Slower’ now.”

  I giggled and lay there thinking how I was knee-deep in donkey shit. I was falling hard and fast for Jake Riley. After loving Dimitri for what seemed like my entire life, this was a completely different ride. And scary as shit.

  Later, when I lay with my head on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart, he said, “This may very well be the greatest day of my life. Oh, by the way, Phil needs you to send him a copy of your driver’s license. He’s putting you on the same flight as Gina to Houston.”

  “You knew I’d cave.”

  He smirked. I grabbed a pillow and smacked him.

  “I actually thought it would be harder.”

  “Yeah, well, orgasms are my kryptonite,” I huffed.

  “You’re my kryptonite.” He rolled on top of me and kissed the spot on my neck that drove me wild.

  12

  Grounded

  * * *

  JAKE

  The stale air in Tucson did nothing to help me chill out. I dialed her number and said to the empty parking lot, “Here goes nothin’.”

  “Louana Higgins.”

  “Hey. Why so formal?” I paced around the tour bus.

  “I’m in the car. I didn’t know it was you.”

  “Who else would call you on a Sunday night at 11 p.m.?”

  “Maybe Casey, Mario’s ex-wife, Bob, Fern, even… Could be anyone. A wrong number.”

  “Okay, okay, point made. Bigger question is, why are you in the car?”

  “I’m coming back from Venice. I had dinner with Casey.”

  “Oh, cool.” No threat. The jealous beast in me went back to his room to play with his toy monster trucks.

  “How was your craps game?” she asked.

  “Oh my God. It was amazing. This grandpa from Detroit rolled for thirty minutes. I made two grand.”

  “What? That’s insane.”

  “I know.” I laughed. “Sam is so pissed at me. He had another bad night, morning, and afternoon at the blackjack tables.” Thank God he didn’t know about my bank account.

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah. We were all happy to get on the bus when Gina left at four.” Except John; he could have wallowed in the Vegas swamp until his toes pruned.

  “Are you in Tucson?”

  “Yup. Phil just checked us in. Sam and I are sharing the Chastity Suite.”

  “What are you guys gonna do on your day off?”

  “John got a hold of some mushrooms. We’re all going to do them and take some tram ride in a canyon.” Was it bad to tell her about the drugs? Shit. I was flushing myself down the toilet before I’d even got to the real reason I’d called.

  “Sounds more fun than the day of meetings ahead of me tomorrow.”

  Okay, saved. It was time to get to the point. “We’ll see. Speaking of meetings, we had one on the bus.”

  “Yeah?”

  Sirens sounded in the background from her end, and the omen didn’t help my courage.

  “Well, we’ve been saying for a while that we need more original material. I mean, every night we play all the songs from the album and then have to do covers for the encore, or even if we want to change it up a bit. Writing on the bus has proven to be impossible for most of us, and even jams at sound check aren’t coming together.”

  “Right, I get it. It’s why Mario blocks his Fridays. Writing takes concentration.”

  “Exactly. We’re all too distracted by the grind of the tour to be creative.” I stopped walking in circles and picked at a sticker on the side of the bus.

  “Must be frustrating.”

  “Incredibly. So we had to make a decision to either come off the road or keep touring. Which wasn’t easy, because I’m really the only one making money from royalties. The rest of the guys are making their money from the tour, most of all Sam, who didn’t write anything on the album. And even the tour money isn’t amazing. I mean, it’s not like we’re selling out stadiums.”

  “Yet,” she added. It was nice to know she believed in me. “So what did you guys decide?”

  “We’re gonna come off the road after San Diego to write.”

  “In L.A.?” Her voice jumped in pitch. I hoped that meant she was excited by the prospect.

  “Yeah. Which leads me to our next negotiation.”

  “Already?” She scoffed. “Should I be glad we’re not in person for this one?”

  I let out a light groan and said, “I don’t want you to answer right now. I want you to think about it. I want you to think about what I would need to do so we can both get what we want. I’m serious about this, so please don’t shoot it down right away. Promise me that much.” I squinted hard, hoping I wasn’t about to blow everything with her.

  “Okay?”

  “Promise me you won’t say no and you’re gonna think about it.” I was stalling, but I needed her assurance.

  “Spit it out, Jake.” Her tone rang flat.

  “Promise me.”

  “Fine. I promise I will not say no tonight. I’ll think about your offer with an open mind, and I’ll try to find an outcome beneficial to both parties.”

  “Thank you.”

  �
��Are you going to ask, or shall I begin to lay down ridiculous terms you’ll be forced to agree to?”

  “You promise you’ll find ways so we both win?” My hand rubbed the back of my neck.

  “I promise I will try to and I won’t say ‘no’ tonight. But if you don’t ask me, I’m inclined to pull the deal completely off the table.” Jesus, she was impossible.

  “Okay, okay. Fuck.” Heat filled my body. I wasn’t even this nervous before going onstage. “Well, the thing is, your place was like a sanctuary when I stayed there…and I need to find my own place, but I don’t have time.”

  Dead air.

  Time to scramble.

  “Louana, I have got to get out of Steven’s guest room. Fuck. This isn’t coming out like I thought.” She waited in silence on the other end. “Anyway, I keep thinking about the only place I want to be in L.A., and it’s with you. I want to move in with you.”

  I drew the phone away from my ear to make sure we were still connected.

  “I’m taking your silence as a good sign.” It was better than her saying no.

  When she still didn’t answer, I went all-in to sell my case. “It’s just, I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re beautiful, confident, smart, independent, and so kind. I don’t want to change any part of you. I’m only asking for a chance to witness it more often.”

  “Jesus, Jake.”

  “Please, just think. Think about what I need to do to make it work. I only want both of us to be happy. I promise.”

  “Jake, I’m home. I need to go in and go to bed.”

  “Okay, baby. Thank you for not saying no.”

  “Good night.”

  “Good night, beautiful.”

  I pocketed my phone and hoisted my bag over my shoulder. Leaving the dry desert air behind, I entered the cool air conditioning of yet another hotel lobby. I passed John in the bar and hit the button of the elevator. What was the number Phil told me?

  Shane walked over with his bags and joined me. “Hey. We’re doing the right thing, right?” He scratched his shoulder under the strap of his backpack.

  “I fucking hope so.”

  The doors opened and we got on.