Our Muted Recklessness (Muted Hopelessness Book 2)

by Love Belvin

  That’s when my confidence will be on a thousand, like Ne-Yo’s just a few minutes ago…

  My eyes rolled over to the seat to the right of me. No one had claimed it. Who bought seats this close to the stage at a Brielle concert and didn’t show? That was dumb. I wished Samantha had the money for a ticket. She could have come with me. I was hyped about getting dressed up in fancy clothes, but now that I was here, it felt lonely. I somehow found myself looking down at my clothes. Again, I didn’t recognize myself. My thighs were out, making me self-conscious. Ashton had picked out everything. A few guys whistled, gawked like crazy, or tried to holler while I found my way to my seat inside. It made me question my decision to wear the mini cheerleader-style skirt.

  I wondered what Aivery wore tonight. Even if she decided on something sexy—which she likely did—at least she had Ashton to protect her. I had no one. Ashton may have shelled out the cash so I could have the same experience, but I was still alone. All dressed up and pretty for nobody to see me.

  I said I wouldn’t, but did it anyway. I turned around and looked up high in the balcony seats. I was sure the suite they’d gotten was up there. Then again, I wasn’t. I’d never been to a concert in a big place like this before. I bet they were up there having fun.

  Turning back in my seat, my mood went south. It made me realize I was doing this all wrong with Ashton. We weren’t even friends. We were…cool. But cool didn’t involve going down on a guy. A guy with a girlfriend. I was so wrong for that. So wrong. Ashton may have been an okay guy, but he had a girlfriend. The reminder made my stomach queasy. It happened each time I thought about it. What I hated most was that tiny feeling of connecting to a small part of him that didn’t belong to Aivery. It was wild and wrong, but something I couldn’t lie to myself about. I was wrong. Just not wrong about that being true.

  The lights lowering had my head snapping up. Everyone around me was out of their seats and screaming. A heavy beat dropped, then the ones on the stage lit up. After her dancers came tumbling out, the two girls who left their seats earlier were jogging back into the aisle. The seat next to me remained empty. I stood after they passed me, not wanting to miss a moment of the show. Brielle’s vocals for “Lifted,” a song I didn’t like as much until hearing her perform it live, could be heard before she was seen. The crowd went wilder when she strutted out of a dark no-place to the front of the stage.

  My heart dropped at seeing her in the flesh. The big hair, tiny coochie shorts, belly shirt, and high ass heels outfit confirmed it was her. She struck a Naomi Campbell pose while the crowd went crazy. My eyes were so big, and I could feel the smile splitting my goofy face. This was it. It was her.

  Brielle…

  My life had been made. She was…fucking beautiful! And her smile when she finally got tired of all the deafening noise of the place, it was…real. Television or a camera couldn’t edit it. It was pretty. She sang another note, and from that second on, I fell under a spell. This was a young Black girl like me—well, not like me because Brielle’s parents had money—who was living her dream. And she was legit talented. That awakened something in me.

  While watching her perform song after song, seeing someone who looked like me made me feel good about my decision to come to BSU. It reminded me that my being here was for a reason. It was a step toward the goal. As I danced and sang as best as I could with her, I remembered my dream of wanting to be the next Laila Ali. Stronger. Faster. Better. And not because I was better than her, but because I was supposed to be.

  Brielle had made it click for me.

  Brielle was a couple of minutes into my cue song, and I was beyond ready to go. Ending the madness of my jumpy leg, I shot up from my seat and sauntered off without a particular pace. Aivery had been slowing more and more the deeper Brielle progressed into her set. When I made it to the door of the suite, I glanced back to see if anyone had been paying me any attention. Of course, they hadn’t: fucking Brielle was the center of the universe for everyone in the building.

  I crept into the hall, glancing both ways before deciding on my direction for the elevators. I went to the floor-seat level. A throng of people was no longer zipping around like when we came in. Now, just a few dozen were meandering aimlessly. I moved with rabid speed down the winding hall to get to the right section. Fuck! I didn’t want this song to end before I made it. Damn near jogging, I pulled the folded list from my pocket, stupidly thinking the order of songs would change. Finally, I made it to the right tunnel and bolted inside.

  “Hold!” I heard barked from behind me.

  My feet stopped and I turned to peer at the two security guards approaching me. My brain kicked in and I pulled the ticket out of my other pocket, flashing it to them.

  “I’m missing the show,” I tried, out of breath. “Where’s my seat?”

  After handing the ticket back to me, the burly woman began to move. I tried cracking a smile. Instead of me yelling for her to hurry the fuck up, I followed behind her. As we plopped down the aisle, passing rows, the piano sequence changed. My heart galloped like fucking mad! This was the song. It felt like an eternity before the security guard pulled out her flashlight to illuminate the numbers of the rows. That’s when I knew. I wouldn’t be so fucking reserved with her. I’d do what I’d been fighting for so long. Even if for twenty stinking minutes, I wouldn’t hold back with Tori.

  “Don’t make me invisible…

  Don’t mute our love,

  Don’t forget you’re the one I dream of.” I sang along with Brielle and the crowd like I’d never believed a lyric before.

  This song felt different. It was weird. I knew it would be when she started it. The solo piano was more powerful than the entire all-female band playing at once.

  “Don’t ask for my heart then demand even more.

  Don’t ignore my all…

  Don’t deny you’re the sun my earth aches for!”

  My eyes closed, body rocked left to right. When? I couldn’t ask why because I knew why. I wondered when I became one of those people emotional over a song in public. The area was almost pitch black, even with the cell phones people held in the air. The big spotlight lit a small circle on the stage. My mind was so gone, my body floated as Brielle sat on a stool with her legs crossed as she sang an older track, “My Muted Love.” It was about a flawed relationship where she felt her boyfriend lost focus of her and her dedication to the relationship, I guessed. He ignored all the good and purity—her word—to what she brought and made her feel it wasn’t enough.

  I wasn’t too sure about what Brielle felt, but in this moment, I could relate to the song. I didn’t want to use anyone, but I felt things with a guy that felt wrong to express. Wrong to feel. Some days, I wondered if he felt something, too. Most days, I condemned myself for wondering, for feeling. But the guilt was exhausting. I was tired of wrestling with...feelings. Tired of overthinking the invisible, but serious about my rules of liking a guy who had a girlfriend.

  “I can climb Mt. Everest to the top up above…

  Swim the Atlantic from ‘Old World’ to ‘New’.

  But tell me, baby, how do I survive my muted love?”

  Heat pressed into me from behind. My body leaped and I sucked in air before I could think to open my eyes. Then the panic disappeared. I could feel it drain away as I swallowed his scent, recognizing him immediately. No one else on earth smelled the way he did. It wasn’t just a cologne; it was what came from his pores. His touch, this close, I was still getting used to. He pulled me into his hard chest by his big hand on my belly. Without breaking my stride, he swayed with me left and right, not missing a beat. But my singing did. How could I not when feeling my body heat all over? My nipples tingled, heart trying to jump from my chest, and between my legs was a loud buzzing feeling.

  His face moved to my ear. “Can I kiss you?”

  Without opening my eyes, I froze, ready to turn around. He caught my body, holding me in place. Then I felt a pull to my ponytail, lifting my chin in th
e air. Before I could open my eyes, warm soft flesh was at the side of my mouth. Slowly, it moved to my lips, and that’s when my chest caved and I fell further into his big chest. He kissed me softly, then again. The third time, he pulled my bottom lip away from my face. That’s when my knees trembled at the same time I decided to kiss him back.

  “Don’t make me invisible…” Brielle sang.

  Without my permission, my hand pushed over my shoulder and reached his head. I pulled him into my face and opened my mouth for him. His tongue was warm, sweet. His lips softer than I ever imagined. I was eager to taste him, feel him. My hand fingering his carpet-thick, silky hair above me.

  Oh, shit…

  I was kissing Ashton Spencer and on purpose, consensual, and without guilt. This time I was better, no nervousness about being new to it. It was in this moment that I owned time and circumstance. No one else mattered but me and this guy I didn’t understand, but couldn’t get out of my head. When his hand flexed over my stomach, my abs tightened and knees buckled again. They were weak, but not me. I wanted him. I wanted Ashton all over me. In that moment, I didn’t care if it made me a slut. I felt free. Similar to what I’d gained from being so close to Brielle, under Ashton, I was strong and…present. Even with my mouth preoccupied with him, my voice was strong.

  “Don’t mute our love,

  Don’t you forget you’re the one I dream of…”

  My hips began to move again, pushing back into him. Spine stretched, arching under him. When I felt his hard dick, I lost my breath. His tongue didn’t stop in response to my shock-stillness. His other hand dropped to my exposed thigh as I grinded into him. When his fingers landed on my inner thigh, my abs vibrated under his right palm. Wanting him to know how open to him I was, I pushed his left hand closer between my legs. Suddenly, the mini skirt wasn’t a bad idea.

  His fingers swiped my lips over the silk material, making my body jerk. I wanted this so bad, but didn’t want to embarrass myself when finally letting it happen. He rubbed and rubbed slow, but heavily, managing to maintain rocking us left and right. When his fingers slipped beneath the soaked fabric of my panties, my eyes fluttered open. My tongue felt heavy and jaw fell to the floor. His tongue remained in my mouth until my neck felt heavy and I shifted it against his neck. The place was still dark, small dots from phone screens all over, and Brielle was still on the stool, emotionally ripping through notes.

  “Close your eyes,” Ashton whispered, lips on my ear.

  Quickly, I obeyed, out of breath and so horny. I had to be horny. This had to be what horniness felt like. He rubbed on my clit, making me feel how swollen I was, how wet. My chest felt tight, nipples zinging like never before. When his finger pushed inside of me, I tensed, squeezing all around him.

  “Shit, Tor!” he groaned in my ear.

  I tried relaxing, taking it in: the open air and charged energy, Brielle’s boss aura, and Ashton. He managed a finger pumping in and out of me while rubbing his thumb on my clit. The more he plugged and rubbed, my chest pushed out and ass in. I grinded against his finger and him, and Ashton’s dick grinded on me. I had no idea what I was doing other than chasing what felt good. Wasn’t that what I’d been avoiding since I’d been spending time, getting to know the real Ashton Spencer? I’d been avoiding what could feel good because it wasn’t right.

  But now with him breathing hard and loud directly into my ear as his hands moved inside and over me, I chased it. I chased it, creating a moment I wanted with him again. Chased this pleasure building inside me.

  “Don’t make me invisible…

  Don’t mute our love,

  Don’t you forget you’re the one I dream of.

  Don’t ask for my heart then demand even more.

  Don’t ignore my all…

  Don’t deny you’re the sun my earth aches fooooor!”

  Something exploded inside of my core, scaring the shit out of me; it felt so good. Too good. My body rang and vibrated, mouth dropped. I couldn’t stop shaking. Through it all, Ashton was behind me, grinding as though he felt each wave of the explosion in every inch of his body as I did. It felt like forever until my body stopped shaking. Even still, I was out of breath and…needy in a way I’d never been allowed to be. I wanted to turn into his chest and hold him tight to me, never wanting him far from my grasp again. I felt safer than I had ever been with a guy—or man.

  Either way, I couldn’t move.

  “Ashton,” he couldn’t possibly hear over Brielle and the solo piano.

  “Just stay right here. I’m not leaving you anytime soon,” he eased so much with those few words. “Chill.”

  And I did. We stayed in that position until well into Brielle’s next song. When Ashton finally uncurled his arms from around my weakened body, he didn’t allow for much space between us. He tucked me beneath his arm and held me there for two more songs.

  “I need to head back up to the suite,” he spoke into my ear. “You’re good with getting back to the limo. Right?” I hated it. Yeah, he’d been gone from his friends for a long time, but it still hurt.

  Still, I swayed my eyes back to the stage, now packed with dancers surrounding Brielle, and nodded my head. He had to go, and that was that. When Ashton reached down and kissed the side of my mouth, missing his intended target, my face tingled and I shivered. Still, I didn’t look at him. I wouldn’t be that girl.

  But when he started down the row, getting people’s attention to make way for him, I swallowed back a cry before throwing my hands in the air to continue the choreography with Brielle and her crew. I danced hard, but realized I’d never be the same after this night. Seeing Brielle live awakened a hunger in me. And in the same life-changing night, I’d lost a bit of my soul to Ashton Spencer.

  I didn’t want to wait until I got up to the suite level; as soon as I left the auditorium, I found the nearest restroom and dipped inside the stall.

  Shit…

  It was everywhere. I couldn’t tell if the liquid in my boxers and pants was some type of fucking hyper-arousal or I’d cum on myself when fingering Tori. Right now, I had no time to decide. I wiped as much of it as possible with toilet tissue, thankful as hell I wore black sweats tonight instead of blue jeans that would have made my “accident” conspicuous.

  That was no accident, though, homie…

  It damn sure wasn’t. The only mishap from inside with Tori was that I didn’t have the balls to explore her the way I’d been fantasizing for months now. But no way did I regret it. Fuck no. I’d settled on being a greedy asshole for going for another girl. The thing was, Tori McNabb was no ordinary girl. She was still a tomboy, but with more substance than I’d seen in a long time, if ever. There was so much hanging in the balance between the tomboy and me.

  After washing my hands, I looked at myself in the mirror. All I saw was guilt, but not from what I’d done; from not feeling bad about it at all. There was something so kindred about Tori to me since the second time I tutored her. She was beautiful, talented, and smart—and innocent. That was dangerous to a guy like me.

  Not leaving time to think too much about it, I tossed the paper towel and jetted out of the bathroom. I had to show my suite pass a gazillion times before arriving at the door. Thankfully, Brielle was still at it, still stomping and flipping on stage with high heels. I slid into one of the rear seats, thinking no one detected me until Dre caught my eye and winked.

  Fuck…

  I’d have to handle him. In the meantime, I laid low, watching the show while each inch of her pussy rolled over and over in my head. I chewed on my thumbnail as my mind reeled. Damn, her pussy was wet, soft, and tight as hell. And the way she threw her ass at me while riding my hand… I had to have cum in my damn pants. What was it about this girl that had me bugging out?

  Just as Brielle began closing the show, Aivery stumbled to the bathroom. I followed her, planting myself by the door to be sure she was okay. By the time she was done, the stage was being emptied.

  “I think I’m drunk
.” Aivery burped along with her confession.

  Me, too. But not from alcohol.

  Of course, I couldn’t share that. Instead, I pulled her hair from her face and smiled. Aivery was drunk.

  “Let’s get you to bed.”

  “No! I want to hang out with everybody!” she whined. “Al and Dre aren’t going back to campus to crash.”

  They weren’t. “You sure you’re up for that?”

  “Yea—” She hiccupped. “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Just promise no more drinking and that you’ll let me know the minute you’ve had enough.”

  “I promise.” She moved into my chest and wrapped her arms around my waist when she declared it.

  “Alright!” I shouted. “BSU crew, onward and upward.”

  “Okay!” Andrea trilled. “I’ve got to pee first.”

  “Me, too,” Karmen followed.

  “Damn,” Dre huffed. “Y’all can’t hold shit!”

  Old school slow jams floated from beneath the door before he pulled it open.

  His face balled, nose turned up. “Where’s your luggage?” I turned to the side to give him a view of my book bag. The muscles in his face relaxed, mouth dropped. “A Panthers book bag is your luggage?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t have anything else.”

  His eyes rolled to the ceiling. “Come in. Let me see what I have.”

  I followed him inside, eyes stupidly going to his wide shoulders, watching them sway as he walked down the hall. He was dressed in sweatpants, Timberland boots and a black, wife-beater t-shirt. Ashton turned up his Jersey swag.

  “Why are you looking around like that?” he asked over his shoulders, brows forming a line. I didn’t realize he’d been watching me. “You look spooked.”

  “I’m seeing who all is coming.” I wanted to know.