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Fighting Chance: (A male/male enemies to lovers erotic RomCom between a young musician and his idol)

Page 15

by T L Dasha


  Track 3) Protector (Let Me Show You the Ropes)

  -An unforeseen desire to make another person feel safe and warm. Sensual but careful. Maybe I can bring you into my world.

  Track 4) Lust (Why You?)

  -Starts slow, increasing with the building rhythm of a racing heartbeat. Hard, fast, and loud. The way I want you is different somehow. The way you move drives me crazy.

  Track 5) Perfection (Can It Really Feel This Good)

  -Up beat, radio friendly. The best part of any relationship. An ode to the good times, laced with teases of doubt. How could I ever be this happy? Do I deserve it? I feel like all of my past failures disappear when I’m with you.

  Track 6) Mistakes (Coming Undone)

  -Staccato notes, short quick raps, between a melodic chorus. The ridiculous things you do to cover your mistakes. Dark but lightly humorous. The deeper I get, the harder it is to tell you the truth. Which secret will be my undoing? If it’s beyond my control, why does it still feel like my fault?

  Track 7) Confessions (Not Enough)

  -Slowest song on the album. Minimal instrumental. Rhythmic narration. Fighting back doubts that love trumps failure. Confessing my crimes. It’s not about me, it’s about you. Selfish. Stupid. Blunt. Voice breaking on the final stanza. Faster now, more rough. Ending on a crash.

  Track 8) Understanding (My Fault)

  -Upbeat tone to depressed lyrics. A contradiction. Lying to yourself that you never cared. Laughing about the future you didn’t have. Didn’t need. I swear it’s not what I wanted anyway. It was ridiculous wasn’t it?

  No. It wasn’t.

  Track 9) Redemption (Coming To Terms)

  -A song of acceptance. Doing the right thing and the professional thing, despite your personal failure. If I had met you sooner, I would still want you just the same. You’re worth just as much without me. Maybe selflessness is selfishness, but does it matter if it helps you?

  Track 10) Deal (Don’t F*ck Yourself Because Of Me)

  -Hard Rock anthem. Anger. Wanting to take back the best things in your life after a break up, but still wanting the other person to succeed. No longer asking for forgiveness. A deal with the devil that hurts and helps both of you.

  -

  My heart felt heavy as I read through each song. I hesitated to flip to the last page. Every word just made me doubt my own resolve. In all the time I had struggled with my own insecurities, Jay was wrestling with his own. I felt guilty. I felt unreasonable. I felt confused. I turned the page and let my eyes fall down to the only words on sheet.

  --

  Track 11) Roland Finley

  -I Love you.

  --

  I set down the proposal and stared blankly at the table. Then I stood up, and I ran.

  I pushed through crowds of people, trying to get through the park. It was packed. Every fan a barrier between me and my goal. Lance’s voice still filled the air, overwhelming the sound of chatter and cheering. I squeezed between two shirtless men with body paint, jumping together with the beat, and I nearly knocked over a man with his girlfriend on his shoulders.

  “Oh my god, you’re Roland Finley!”

  “Is that the lead singer for Fighting Chance?!”

  “He touched me! I’m never washing this arm again!”

  The mob of fans made it near impossible to make headway, everyone wanting to slow me down. Everyone wanting to offer praise. But that wasn’t the praise I was looking for.

  “Jay!” I yelled out as he came into view, just barely on the edge of the parking lot. He was still talking to Jonathan, though his body language reflected exactly how eager he was to leave.

  I pushed through one last wall of people, and stood before him, out of breath, out of sorts, and with no idea what I even wanted to say. The crowd circled around me.

  “Jay.”

  He slid his eyes over to me.

  “Mr. Finley! Glad to see you so-“ Jonathan was interrupted by the rise of Jay’s hand, holding up a finger to ask for silence. Jay regarded me with a stony expression.

  “Jay, I…” The crowd seemed to move in closer. This probably wasn’t the right situation to do this. Or maybe… Maybe it’s the exactly right situation. “Jay, I’m sorry I got so mad.”

  He looked down at me and took a few steps toward me. I kept talking. “But I can’t accept your charity.”

  “Charity?” He scoffed. “What charity am I offering you exactly?”

  Jonathan looked between us, confused. Chatter surrounded me.

  “You know what I mean.” I shook my head. “You’re not offering me this contract because of my ability.”

  “How exactly did you come to that conclusion?” Jay stood directly in front of me now. He cocked an eyebrow. “I just want to make sure I understand exactly what kind of unethical behavior you’re accusing me of.”

  Ugh. Why did he always have to make everything so difficult?

  “Are you really going to make me say it in front of all these people?”

  “Are you always this vague? No wonder you couldn’t win a silly competition.” A glint of amusement flashed through his eyes. He rested his hands in his pockets, and closed the remaining distance between us with one more step. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

  I looked up at him, and I shook my head.

  “God, you’re such a dick.” I was trying to sound angry, but I found myself laughing. “So what- just because you wrote me a nice little note, I’m supposed to forgive you?”

  “No.” Jay rolled his eyes. “Those were just words.”

  “They were nice words.” Heat teased my cheeks.

  “Obviously. The mark of a great writer is in the ability to make someone believe what they’re reading. That’s my job.”

  “Uh huh. And those little stains all over the page from your tears- was that part of the sales pitch, too?”

  Jay was taken aback, a look of genuine offense all over his face. “There weren’t any- No, I would have noticed-“

  I grabbed him by his tie and yanked him down to meet my lips, grinning into a kiss. I whispered softly. “I guess my words are strong enough to fool you, too.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against him, sending small vibrations through my body with his laughter. He took my mouth again, running his tongue over my lip rings, and abandoning any notion of shyness or subtlety.

  The crowd didn’t matter, the press didn’t matter- none of it did. None of it ever should have.

  “I fucking love you, Jay McClintock.”

  “That’s how I know you’re an idiot.” He shook his head and kissed me again. “That’s why you’re my idiot.”

  Chapter 16

  Roland Finley

  “No, lower. You need to go deeper.”

  “Relax your throat. Let yourself feel it.”

  “Just like this. Slide your hand down the entire length. Stay light with your fingers.”

  I stared at my keyboard with my cheeks on fire. “Why do you have to make literally everything sound sexual?!”

  “Because it’s important to keep a well stimulated imagination if you want to create something beautiful.” Jay crossed his arms as he leaned against the desk in his home studio. A grin slipped onto his lips. “Also because I like knowing you’re vividly imagining all of it.”

  My expression flattened. Ever since we signed with ALIVE Records, Jay has been happily taking advantage of his position. And my position. And a number of other positions. He really liked to test the limits of my patience, and the limits of his office’s sound proofing…

  But today, I had stopped by his home to iron out a song I’d been struggling with. He had been helping me work out tempo and pitch, but something about it still felt off. I tapped out a melody on my keys, trying to find the right note for what I was imagining.

  Jay shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. “Here, let’s try something different.” He came up behind me and placed a hand on top of mine, sliding it down the length of the keybo
ard, then stopping at the last key. He held my thumb on the key, creating a continuous hum.

  “Do you feel that slight vibration?” He whispered in my ear.

  “Of course,”

  “Can you match this tone?”

  “Sure.” I relaxed my throat and doled out a low A note.

  “Now this one?” He moved my thumb to the G key. I matched that too. “And this?” He slid his other hand into my pants, and my voice kicked up a few octaves. His warm palm effortlessly left me straining for release. He smiled at me, pulling my body a little tighter against his. “That’s the note I was looking for.”

  “N-not fair.” I instinctively pushed back into him, drawing in a sharp breath as he ran increasing pressure up my shaft.

  “Shhhh, we’re still recording.”

  “In that case, maybe you should sing, too.” I reached behind myself and ran a hand up his thigh until I was teasing the front of his slacks, feeling every contour through the cotton.

  “Oh, you’ll have to try harder than that if you want to hear my voice.” Jay nibbled at my ear through that playful grin of his. “But I’ll let you try.” He let go of me and took a step back, throwing up his hands in surrender. “Let’s see who can make who sing the loudest.”

  I met the devilish glint in his eyes, then let my gaze fall down his irresistible body. Disheveled brown hair just begging to be pulled, thin, mocking lips ready to be kissed, an elegant tie that would look even more appealing around his wrists, buttons on his black dress shirt that would be so easy to rip open, a bulge in his pants that I could ravage with my tongue.

  “Game on.” I pushed him hard into the wall, taking in the shock and surprise in his expression, then I pushed my lips hard into his, distracting his senses, and savoring the taste of being in control for once. I always gave into him. It was about time I stood up for myself.

  I pulled loose the knot on his tie, and then slid the silk through the collar in his shirt. As quickly as I had claimed it, I stepped back to show him my trophy. “Just so you know, I like to play dirty.” I gave him a wink as I wrapped the tie around my mouth, muffling any possible moans. I wasn’t going to lose to Jay today.

  “Oh you think that’s enough.” He grinned as he lowered himself to his knees. He used one hand to take a firm grip of my ass, then he used his teeth to slide down my zipper. “Good luck.”

  I found myself reaching for any support I could find as his tongue slid down the underside of my cock. All that was available was his shoulders. I tried to keep the silk as tightly in my mouth as I could as I squeezed into his muscles with my fingers. He circled the tip with his tongue, then locked eyes with me.

  “You’re doing good.” He yanked my pants down further, and slid his hand between my legs, teasing at my ass. “Let’s see how long you can keep it up.”

  He took my entire length into his mouth in one swift plunge, then worked his way over the smooth surface, massaging me with his tongue as he kept on the pressure with his lips. I scrambled to cover my mouth with my hand, buckling against him as he slipped in the first finger. He hooked inside of me, gentle moving along my inner walls. The satisfaction in his eyes as he watched me lose control only made it harder to hold on.

  He slipped in a second finger, then moved his lips down my cock in a long, slow, mercilessly sexy motion. I dug my fingers deeper into his shoulder, and pulled the silk further into my mouth.

  He pulled away leaving me desperately on the edge. I took a step back to support myself against a desk, trying to calm my rapid breathing. He stood up and regarded my body, as though he was examining a painting.

  “Are you ready to beg me yet?”

  I bit down on the silk and shook my head, trying to fight my arousal with obstinance.

  “Good.” Jay took off his shirt, and pressed himself against me again, pressing his hot flesh and a clothed erection against my half naked body. He yanked my t-shirt over my head to remove the last barrier between us. “Let’s try something different, shall we?”

  He pushed me back hard against the hardwood desk, the cold sensation of the lacquer finish bombarding my back. He removed his pants and straddled me. His body was incredible. Every lean muscle towered over me. Every muscle that was about to push into me.

  Jay grabbed a bottle of lube from the desk top, and reached behind himself. I closed my eyes to prepare for the first finger.

  A cold, slick hand moved up my cock, coating its entire length in wetness. The pressure of his hips lifted, and I could feel his ass teasing the tip of my shaft. My eyes shot open, and I looked up at him in surprise. I strained to keep eye contact as he slid a hand up my chest, taking a firm hold of my shoulder.

  His grip tightened, and he lowered himself onto me.

  Holy shit. The silk wasn’t enough to contain my moans anymore. He moved up and down my shaft, controlling the speed, moving slowly over every one of my nerve endings, teasing me with his warmth.

  He winced and bit his lower lip as he took me another inch deeper. Just the look in his eyes was almost enough to get me off.

  “Do you want me to stop?” Jay withdrew his hand from my shoulder.

  No. God no. I shook my head.

  “I can’t hear you.” Jay slid up my entire length again, and slowly settled back down to my base. “Maybe I should stop.”

  I scrambled for my gag, untying the tie with desperate fingers. I couldn’t seem to get it off fast enough. “Please!”

  “Please what?” His voice was obnoxiously calm as he moved on top of me.

  “Keep going! Don’t stop!”

  Jay just smirked as he resumed driving me insane. I took a hold of his manhood and pumped him in time. Though I was barely able to keep focus as he assaulted my senses above me.

  “J-Jay- god, I’m going to come!” The words were barely understandable through my labored breaths. “Fuck. Jay!”

  “Go on then.” He brought our lips together as I felt myself release into him. His own orgasm filled the space between our bodies, covering both of us in a hot sticky mess as he pulled himself off of my dick, and pressed the weight of his body down on my chest while locking us together by our tongues.

  Jay pulled away only long enough to whisper into my ear. “I win.”

  “Ah, motherfucker.” I slapped my palm to my face. “That wasn’t fair. I need a do-over.”

  Jay touched a finger to my lips, silencing my protests. “All’s fair in love and your virginity.” He laughed. “But I’ll happily do you over.”

  As he leaned in to give me another kiss, the sound of the door buzzer rang through his home. The look on his face was as confused as mine was. Jay climbed off of me and started getting dressed.

  “Are you expecting company?” I asked, getting my clothing back in line.

  “No.” Jay looked toward the door as he buttoned the collar on his shirt. I followed him to the door, but when he opened it, no one was waiting on the other side. Just a manila envelope resting on the door mat.

  Jay picked it up and stared listlessly at the inscription. There was no return address. No address at all. Just a few words scrawled across the front in careful calligraphy. I leaned over his shoulder and read it aloud.

  “To the son of Bartholomew Karas?”

  Jay didn’t say anything. He walked into the living room at sat down on the couch, dropping the envelope onto his coffee table. He tore open the envelope at the end, and peaked in at the contents. His expression never faltered. He motioned with his hand for me to sit beside him. I obliged. I kept hoping he would give me some kind of tell. I didn’t know if I should be worried, afraid, or unmoved.

  He reached an arm around my shoulder, and pulled me close. I relaxed my ear into the comfortable spot between his shoulder and his chest.

  “Roland.” His voice was low and soft. “I love you. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah. I lo-“

  Jay touched a finger to my lips to silence me, not letting me finish my proclamation. He nodded, while his eyes fell bac
k to the envelope. “I need you to go.”

  “We haven’t finished recording.”

  “I’ll get you a cab. We’ll talk later.”

  “Okay.” No matter how much I wanted to protest, I accepted that it wasn’t up for debate.

  A sick feeling took my stomach as I got in that cab, and I watched his home disappear in the rearview mirror. I wanted to ask what was going on, what was in that envelope, and what it all meant, but I wanted to believe he would tell me. He wasn’t lying when he said he loved me. I knew he wasn’t. It just wasn’t the right time.

  ###

  Jay McClintock

  I picked up the phone and found Brad’s number. I hit the call button. I waited through the rings. Then he picked up.

  “Jay Jay?”

  I hesitated for a moment. “Are you free?”

  “For you? Always.” He didn’t miss a single beat. He never did.

  “Do you know the coffee shop on Sunset? I’ll text you the address.”

  “On my way.”

  I hung up and grabbed the envelope. I pulled the pictures from the manila slip and stared at each image. A picture of my dad’s Subaru sitting in the ravine. Another of his body being taken from the car. Another with mine. Another of my adoption certificate. Another of myself on my first day at ALIVE. Another of myself with Brad… Another with Roland.

  And one more with Charles Sommers, the man who ran my father off a cliff, smiling shoulder to shoulder with Mark McClintock, my adoptive father, Dayton Gold, and Jonathan Chandler.

  My eyes widened, and I swallowed hard, trying to drown the feeling of dread that was climbing up my chest.

  On the last page was a note, scrawled in red ink.

  Happiness is fleeting.

  Don’t forget how you got here.

  Don’t forget how easily it can be taken away.

  All debts must one day be paid.

  We have much to discuss.

  -C. Sommers

  I shoved the papers back in their slip, then shoved the envelope into my messenger bag. I walked into the garage and disarmed the alarm on my black Mercedes.

  As I settled into the leather seats, I ran a hand through my hair, pushing the strands out of my face, clearing my vision. Before I started the car, I allowed myself one long, slow drag off a cigarette. Then I crushed it in the ash tray and crushed the empty pack in my palm.

 

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