by M. S. Parker
“Maybe you're right,” Jasmine said finally. The answer surprised me. “I couldn't have spent as long with him as I did without noticing that he sometimes flickered like a candle when nobody was watching, but I admit that I never cared to find out why. Neither of us have ever been good at caring.”
I thought I'd won. I was feeling pretty damn good about it too. But then Jasmine gently nudged me on the shoulder, urging me to turn and see what the Rock Star was up to now.
He had his tongue down some blonde girl's throat, and the crowd was cheering him on.
“Maybe you just want to see the best in people,” Jasmine said from beside me. “Even when it isn't there.”
Thirty-Six
Sean
I wasn't nearly as drunk as I should be. All I wanted was to let go and have fun, but something was holding me back. I must've been offered drugs a dozen times, and I turned them all down. I couldn't figure out why, either. I'd been game to party earlier. I'd even thought about how nice it would be to float off on another plane of existence for a while and forget all the dumb bullshit that had gone on between Hazel and me. But I just couldn't bring myself to do it.
I grabbed another beer from someone in the crowd. I didn't bother going to get my own anymore. They went wild when I drank their drinks, and it was easier than having to deal with groupies crawling up my ass every time I took a step.
I kept catching glimpses of Hazel between selfies and shots and grinding on half-naked, ready to fuck girls. She was laughing. Why was she laughing? Why now? Why did she never have that kind of fun when she was with me?
One time I caught a glimpse of her being pulled into a huge dance circle formed in the middle of the room. Somebody was teaching the revelers how to Greek circle dance. It wasn't the craziest thing to ever happen at one of these parties. She grapevined around the circle, her hair flying behind her, head flung back in laughter. Her brilliant white teeth and rosy cheeks easily made her the prettiest girl in the room. There was no contest.
I tried to get lost in the crowd. It was a bigger suite than the ones most of our parties took place in, so it wasn't hard to stay away from her. But she didn't seem to care a lick about staying away from me. In fact, I didn't even know if the thought had crossed her mind. Hazel looked like she didn't have a care in the world. She laughed. She danced. And she forgot all about me.
Toward the middle of the night, I lost sight of her. I'd lost sight of her periodically throughout the night, but this time was different. I could feel she was gone. She'd left. No matter how much I craned my neck or barreled through the crowd, I couldn't find her.
Where did she go?
“Oh my fucking god!” a woman screeched behind me, grabbing my arm.
I turned slowly, scanning the brunette up and down. She was wearing a skin-tight black dress with a neckline that emphasized her massive rack. She was hot. But she wasn't Hazel.
“Sean Morris! You're so fucking hot. Will you sign my tits?”
I suppressed a sigh and grabbed the sharpie I kept in my back pocket. Everyone wanted something signed. A tit, a face, a butt cheek. I was used to it.
The girl started blabbering at me nonstop, telling me how much she loved my music and how she'd always fantasized about getting to meet me in person and seeing where things went. She ran a hand up my thigh as she said this. I tuned her out.
I pulled down the front of her dress a little more and wrote in big letters “For Hazel, Sean was here.” The girl was over the moon at first, twittering about how she couldn't wait to show all her friends and post a photo on Instagram.
But then she looked down.
“What the fuck!” she whined. “My name's not Hazel! It's Candy! I just told you.”
I grabbed the cap of my pen from between my teeth and shoved it back on, shrugging. That earned me a slap to the face. And when I merely stood there and didn't start apologizing, Candy tossed her drink on me too.
The furious brunette with the wrong name written on her tits stormed off, pushing people out of her way with more violence than I would've given her credit for. I watched her go, not bothering to wipe the vodka-cran from my face. Even though I knew the tartness was from cranberries, I couldn't help but taste apple.
Then I caught a glimpse of raven black hair weaving through the crowd, and I forgot all about Candy.
Hazel. She hadn't left. My heart surged with relief but plummeted again when I saw her heading for the exit. I started pushing past people, determined to follow her. Determined not to let her leave my sight.
Thirty-Seven
Hazel
“Shit.”
I glared down at the camera screen as it flashed the words no photographer ever wants to see.
Memory Full.
Of course, that wouldn't be a problem for me if I'd brought a spare memory card, but I wasn't sure I had. Justin always let me store my camera equipment in his room while the party was in swing, as long as I moved it out before he decided to retire with his flavor of the night. I headed to his room now and tapped on the door. There was silence from inside, so I slipped into the darkened room.
“Hello?”
No answer.
I flicked on the lights and was glad to see the room was empty. Thank god. Nobody came into the rooms because they were too worried about being kicked out if they did, which they would be. This worked for me because I liked to bring a couple different lenses with me to these things and I didn't like having to go back and forth between my trailer and the hotel every time.
It was supposed to be convenient to have my extra memory cards on me too, but apparently, I'd forgotten to pack them tonight.
Not a big deal. I could just run back to the trailer and grab them. It'd be nice to get some air anyway.
There would be plenty of opportunities yet to come, I was sure. The night was still young, and there was still plenty of partying to do.
I took my whole bag with me when I left the room, slinging it over my shoulder and pushing my way toward the door. The crowd moved like a liquid, opening to let me through and falling in behind me to close the gap.
I made it into the hall, and the elevator doors were just closing behind me when I heard pounding footfalls down the hallway.
“Hazel!”
If the door hadn't already been closing, I would have started violently hitting the “close door” button. Thankfully, I didn't need to. The chrome doors slid shut before Sean could stop them.
What the hell was he doing? Why was he chasing after me? My pulse picked up, even though I kept telling myself it didn't matter what he did. My response was going to be the same. It had to be the same. I wasn't interested, and that was that.
But why was he chasing after me?
I had no intentions of running away from him, but all the same, I prepared to make a speedy exit from the hotel and take a roundabout route back to my trailer. Only when the doors opened in the lobby, Sean was standing in front of them, barely even out of breath. The only indication he'd booked it down the four flights of stairs and across the lobby was the light sheen of perspiration on his brow.
“Sean,” I said, surprised. “What...?”
I hadn't exited the elevator and the doors closed again. Sean shot out a muscular, tattooed arm to hold them open.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Uh.” I blinked. “Sure.”
I left the elevator, putting as much space as possible between us as I passed him. I could practically feel his heat, and it was driving me crazy. I kept walking, figuring if he wanted to talk to me so bad, he would have to walk with me back to the trailers.
Sean kept pace beside me but didn't say anything until we'd left the lobby and were outside in the hot, humid night.
“I'm an asshole,” Sean said. “I'm a complete dickhead, and I know it. I'm sorry.”
I risked a glance at him out of the corner of my eye. His expression was sincere enough, I supposed, but that didn't change anything. Still, better to be professional and
courteous. There was no need to make the rest of the tour overly painful.
“Apology accepted,” I said simply. “Thanks.”
I was prepared to continue on my way and figured he'd get the hint and back off now. But since when did Sean Morris ever back away from a challenge?
“Just like that?” he asked. “You haven't even heard the full apology.”
We turned onto the road, and I kept hoping for a passerby to recognize him and pull him away so I could make my escape. I'd steeled myself against whatever kind of sensual battery he might throw my way, but I'd never prepared for an apology.
“I don't need to hear the full apology.” I put my hand up like a barrier between us. “You said you're sorry, I've accepted it, we both move on with our lives.”
I knew when silence lengthened between us Sean was annoyed. What? Did he expect me to fall back at his feet just because he said he was sorry? Not bloody likely. This was about more than just my feelings. Photography was my passion, and I wasn't going to risk letting all my hard work go down the drain because of some half-assed apology from some half-apologetic rock star. He probably just wanted to sleep with me again because he was bored and then ignore me the next time we saw each other. No, thanks.
We were at the arena back lot now, and I nodded at the security guard hanging around the perimeter of the convoy of tour buses. He waved us through. Sean still said nothing, and I wondered what his next move was going to be. Did he think things were back to normal now and me accepting his apology meant I was going to get back into bed with him? If so, he was about to get a rude awakening.
I reached my trailer and unlocked the door. Sean was still behind me.
“Can I come in?”
I looked back at him, which was a huge mistake. His soulful ice-blue eyes were trained on me like he thought I might disappear if he blinked. I admired the way the shadows played across his handsome features, emphasizing his chiseled jaw and aquiline nose, and how there was the tiniest cleft in his chin that was almost invisible most other times. He was so handsome it hurt.
“For a minute, if you want,” I said.
Sean followed me inside and shut the door behind him. I went straight to the little table I used as a desk and swapped out the memory card in my camera for one of the empty ones there, then stashed another couple in my bag.
“Will you look at me, Hazel?”
My back stiffened. Then slowly – oh, so slowly – I turned. And I looked.
He was so tall, so broad, he seemed to take up more space in the trailer than should have been possible. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his biceps and their swirls of ink bulged enticingly. I swallowed.
“I've treated you horribly,” Sean began. “I know I have. And you don't deserve that. I don't know how to be any other way. The lines between who I am and who I pretend to be get blurred while I'm on tour, to the point where half the time I don't know which way is up and which way is down. I never wanted to hurt you. I need you to believe me when I say that.”
I ran my tongue over my suddenly dry lips.
I knew I should push him away – tell him to leave, tell him it wouldn't matter how much he apologized, nothing was going to change. But he seemed so vulnerable in that moment, so raw. I felt bad for him, for the man living under the weight of the Rock Star.
“I do appreciate the apology, Sean. I do.” I sighed. “But it's more complicated than that. You can't fix all the hurt with an apology.”
Sean took a few steps toward me, then reached out and held me by the shoulders. “I'll apologize as often as it takes. If you need twenty of them, fifty, a thousand, it doesn't matter. I want you, Hazel.”
My will was crumbling. I believed him when he said he was sorry. I believed him when he said he wanted me. I believed his intentions were pure, or as pure as they could be where Sean Morris was concerned.
My voice was small when I spoke. I hated it. “I'm not going to let you keep hurting me, Sean.”
“I won't.” His eyes bore into mine. “I won't.”
Both of us knew he couldn't predict the future, but at least I could see he genuinely believed – in that moment at least –he would never hurt me again. And when he bent down to kiss me, I couldn't lock my emotions away anymore. I wanted him with every fiber of my being and denying it was way more painful than embracing it.
Sean's lips stroked mine in a tender, loving kiss. The kind of kiss where, in movies, the music swelled and the wind picked up, and everything that came before it was wiped away into obscurity.
And just like that, I was lost all over again.
Thirty-Eight
Sean
I folded Hazel into my arms and held her there, like she might disappear into thin air. But as our mouths picked up a steady rhythm of stroking, teasing, brushing, and biting, her passion rooted her to the spot, and I knew I had her. She wasn't going anywhere.
I tangled my fingers in her hair to draw her closer, to angle the kiss and allow my tongue better access to her mouth. She moaned, fists bunching in the front of my shirt. It was the kind of delicate, quiet moan that seemed designed to drive me crazy. I kissed her harder, deeper. I wanted to lose myself in her forever.
There was no space between our bodies, and my cock swelled against her belly. I groaned and pulled her tighter, wanting her to know how wild she made me. I wished I could show her how much more aroused she made me than any other girl, how my cock responded to her like she alone was made to ride it.
Hazel gasped, then slowly swiveled her hips. The pleasure was torture. I needed to touch her, to hold her. I needed my mouth on her skin and her body writhing beneath me.
I guided us to the bed, and we dropped down, mouths still locked together in a fervent kiss. I held myself above her and stripped off my shirt, then hers. Her skin was feverishly hot as I ran my fingertips up and down her side, cupping the underside of her breast and squeezing.
We went slower than we had the first time. Undressing one article of clothing at a time, leaving trails of kisses along shoulders, stomachs, necks. When I finally had her naked, I sat back to drink her in, memorizing each curve of her body. The proud jut of her hipbones, her swollen breasts and the light pink nipples that topped them, and the creamy expanse of her belly, all the way down to her glistening pussy lips. She was beautiful. She was mine.
“Sean,” Hazel said, drawing my attention away from her body. She was staring at my cock, hard and long. Hazel bit her lip and continued. “I've never...I've never sucked a cock before.”
My balls tightened. Fuck.
“Do you want to?”
Hazel nodded, eyes wide and pleading. Did she know what that look did to me?
I rolled onto my back and pulled her on top of me until she was straddling my thighs. “I've wanted to get your mouth on me since the first time I saw you.”
She blushed and moved down my body, looking up at me as if for instruction. Or approval. I rested my head on my bent arm and watched, heart pounding in my chest.
Hazel's tongue flicked out and swiped over the head of my cock. I shuddered, eyes rolling to the back of my head. She licked again, less tentatively this time. After a few more licks, Hazel slowly lowered her mouth over my cock and began sucking gently.
It wasn't the most skilled blowjob I'd ever received, but it was the hottest. Hazel was eager to please and seemed intent on sucking more and more of my cock into her mouth. She wouldn't be able to fit it all, but it looked like she was gonna try her damnedest.
She swallowed me down and bobbed, stroking the parts of my shaft she couldn't consume with her hand. I tangled my fingers in her hair and guided the rhythm. She adjusted her pace and swirled her tongue around my shaft, which sent my head spinning. She was learning fast.
I wasn't going to last much longer if we kept this up. She was too sexy, and I was way too pent up. And I didn't want to spill down her throat. I wanted to fuck her senseless.
With a groan, I pulled Hazel off my cock and up toward my face.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked, eyes wide as she licked her wet lips.
“No, baby.” I chuckled. “You were amazing. But I need to fuck you now. It's been too long since I was last inside that tight pussy of yours.”
I rolled her over so quickly she gasped, then tested out her wetness with my fingers. Her slick folds parted easily. I growled with approval and reached down to my wallet for the condom I kept there.
Hazel rolled out from underneath me while I did, and I looked back at her with a curious expression.
“While we're on the topic of trying new things,” she said, giving me that innocent look again, “I was wondering if I could try being on top?”
My skin blazed to life. “Fuck, baby. Ask me nicely like that, and you can do whatever you want.”
She smiled coquettishly, and I grabbed her hips and pulled her to me, pressing my lips tightly against hers as I unrolled the condom over my hard shaft. I was about ready to explode, and I wasn't even inside of her yet. She was just so damn sexy, and her enthusiasm would be my undoing.
I hefted us back to the middle of the bed. She straddled me, gripping my shaft uncertainly. I could see the silent deliberation going through her head of how best to approach the situation, and it made me smile. Then, just as I was about to guide her, Hazel lifted her hips and slid down on my cock an inch at a time.
I groaned, digging my fingers into the soft flesh of her hips. She felt so good, like her pussy was gripping me in a vice.
“Oh my god,” Hazel moaned. She ran a hand through her hair and steadied herself against my chest as she adjusted to my girth.
“You feel so fucking good, baby.” I arched, pushing a little bit deeper. “So fucking good.”
Hazel was lost in her own world as she moved. Her tits bounced and swayed above me, and I alternated squeezing them and rubbing my thumb over her clit. I liked watching her from this angle as she pleasured herself on my cock. I could tell her mind was blank, no longer whirring with all the niggling thoughts and insecurities that normally plagued her. She just kept grinding toward her climax, and I did all I could to help her there while trying to stem my own.
