by Meg Ripley
“A couple of hours to start,” I told her. “We’re both going back south tonight, right?” Allie shrugged one shoulder.
“I hadn’t decided, but I might as well,” she said. I climbed back into bed, pulling the sheets aside to reveal the rest of her body; Allie didn’t fight it, didn’t even look annoyed.
I covered her body with mine, slithering down until my hips pressed against hers. “Deerfield is closer than Coral Springs,” I pointed out. “You could crash at my place, get home tomorrow to do all your work.” I brushed my lips against hers. Just the sight of Allie’s naked body had been enough to get my blood flowing. Feeling her skin against mine, tasting her lips, was enough to get me hard in seconds. “For now, though…” I rocked my hips against hers, slipping down between Allie’s legs. She was already starting to get wet, to judge by the slickness of her labia against my cock. I rubbed against her, trailing my lips from her mouth to her jaw to her neck.
Allie wrapped her legs around my waist, pushing herself down on me, her hands roaming across my back. We moved together for a little while, building up the friction, the tension between us, and I held off on getting inside of her as she got wetter and wetter until I could feel all that tension rippling through her body. I reached down and guided the tip of my cock up against her, and slid inside of Allie’s tight, hot pussy slowly, filling her up inch by inch. “God, you feel good,” I murmured against her lips. “So fucking good, Allie.” She did: tight, wet, hot, like a glove around my cock.
I started moving inside of her, pulling out just a little bit and then pushing deeper and deeper, rocking my hips against hers; finding the rhythm. Allie fell into my beat, flowing with and against me, hands wandering everywhere as her hips twisted and rocked with me. I kissed her again and again, and as we moved together I couldn’t help but notice that it was as close to perfect as any sex I’d ever had; normally it took a few moments to get into a rhythm, to find someone else’s beat and match myself to it.
With Allie, though, it felt amazing--she matched to me instead of the other way around. It only took me a few moments to lose the ability to think altogether as we moved as one. I tried to hold back, but I knew I wouldn’t last long--the feeling of her muscles tightening around me, flexing and releasing in little spasms, was enough to almost bring me to the edge right away. I reached down between Allie’s body and mine and found her clit by touch, and started rubbing it in time to our movements together, trying to bring her to climax before I couldn’t hold back any longer. I shuddered at the sound of her moans, at the little breathy cries leaving her throat, echoing in my ear, like the melody wrapped around our beat.
I felt the tension reach the breaking point, and Allie trembled underneath me as she moaned out, long and low, her nails digging into my back. I managed to hold my own climax at bay for a few more thrusts but then I felt the liquid-hot tension deep down in my groin give way, and wave after wave of crackling sensation crashed through me as I came. “Fuck--god--Allie…” I tried to keep it going for as long as possible; she felt fucking amazing, her body tightening around my cock in little spasms while I twitched inside of her. All at once I was finished, and so was she, and we lay there for a moment, both of us panting and gasping for breath.
“We still have...an hour…” I looked up at Allie; she hadn’t caught her breath yet, but I could see the gleam in her eye.
“Give me five minutes and then let’s do that again,” I told her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“How was your vacation?” I rolled my eyes at Nick’s question as I walked into the control room.
“Fun,” I replied, sitting down in one of the chairs. “What are we working on today?”
“One of Jules’ tunes,” Nick said. “He’s talking to Jack about it.” Nick looked me up and down slowly.
“How’s Neely?” I shrugged.
“Broken bone. They’ve canceled a couple of shows.” Nick frowned, looking at me more sharply.
“It wasn’t just playing the festival,” Nick said. “What’s up?” I snickered.
“Becoming a mind reader now that you’re in a settled relationship?” Nick rolled his eyes.
“You’re in a good mood. A better mood than you’ve been in since the bullshit with Dan happened.”
“Playing a festival gig with a new band switched something in my brain, I guess,” I suggested.
“I think you’ve met someone. Come on, Mark--you’re not the secretive type.” I shook my head. I wasn’t sure why I was so keen to keep the rest of the band from finding out about Allie, but I knew I didn’t want to say anything about her just yet; I wanted to feel the situation out.
“Just feeling better about life, I guess,” I told him. Dan came into the control room, saving me from more questions from Nick.
“I saw Jules talking to Jack as I came in,” Dan said. “I take it that we’re working on one of his songs?” Nick nodded, and so did I. It felt weird, having a secret from the rest of the band--it was the first time I’d ever not told someone in the group about something big that had happened to me. I wasn’t sure that it was something big yet; but it felt big.
After a few minutes of bullshitting, Alex and Jules and Jack came into the control room, and we started talking about the day’s work. “Do we really need to start over on this?”
“We’ve started over on everything else,” Jules pointed out. “Why not this one, too?”
“It just seems pretty straightforward,” Nick said.
“I want to go more complex,” Jules countered. “That’s why we need to start over.”
“We’re starting over on everything,” Alex said, looking from Nick to Jules to me. “If we’re committing to that idea, then we might as well start over on this one too.”
“What did you have in mind?” Jules lit a cigarette and took a jump drive out of his pocket.
“Play it for the kids, Jack,” he said, tossing it over to the producer. Jack plugged it into the console and pulled it up on the system. I felt fidgety--weird, almost itchy. I pushed the feeling aside as Jack started up the track.
I forced myself to listen; Jules had demoed the track, probably with Fran, with a beat-maker. It was more complicated than the original track had been, with a syncopated beat--that much at least gave me something to work with beyond the usual. It wasn’t entirely in the same vein as the other tracks we were working on, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It sounded good--it sounded great, in fact.
“I think we can work with this,” I said.
“You’re different,” Alex said, looking at me sharply.
“Spending a couple of days on a different project revitalized me,” I told him.
“I’m pretty sure he’s met someone, but he insists it was just playing with Bent Bridges,” Nick told Alex.
“It is just playing with Bent Bridges. Felt good. I want to get on the road again with Molly Riot soon; to do that, we need to get this album done, right?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “So let’s get to work.”
Alex and Nick both stared at me for a moment longer, but there was nothing really to say about it. We went into the live room and I sat down at my kit. There was the same odd tension between the five of us, but it was different at the same time; in the back of my head I was thinking of Allie--picturing her sprawled on my couch where I’d left her, going through the photos she’d taken at the festival, editing them and picking and choosing between them to submit to different magazines.
“Everyone ready?” Jules played through a run on his guitar, testing the sound in his headphones.
“Let’s do it,” I said, grabbing a fresh pair of sticks. I checked the levels of everything on my kit--I had adjusted Neely’s kit to my needs for the second day of the festival, but it still had been a foreign one, and switching back to my own was like putting on an old, beat-up pair of shoes that I’d worn for ages.
Jack started the tape, and the beat from the demo track Jules had brought in played through my headset. I fell in with
it, and then heard the other guys falling into their own parts. It was just a rough scratch track--something for us to listen to, to sort of get an idea, a map of where the band was going to take Jules’ idea--but surprisingly it felt pretty good to play it. For the first time in months, I felt like the band was playing something that actually made sense.
We played through again and again, refining the melody, and I found a way to play the beat that Jules had set, while still making it my own. Hours went past--back and forth, talking to Jack, playing it again, talking about it again. The rate we were going, it was going to take another two or three months to get the album recorded, but I actually felt good about it. I felt good about what we were doing.
“Okay, let’s listen through the track again,” Alex suggested. “I think we might have actually nailed it this time.”
“Starting to feel it in my hands,” I said, nodding. “Anyone else feel good about it?”
“I’ll wait until I hear it,” Jules said. “Play it back for us, Jackie-boy,” he added through the intercom, sitting down on the floor. I put my drumsticks down and re-settled the headphones on my ears.
“Playing back,” Jack said over the intercom. I got comfortable on my seat and closed my eyes. The playback came up through the headset and I focused partly on my own section, and partly on the rest of it. The beat was right on point. It sounds good. It actually sounds good. I was amazed.
“I like it,” Nick said. “I think we can sharpen up that melody line in the third verse, but I like it.”
“Same,” Dan said. I nodded and bent to the side to grab my pack of cigarettes from the floor at my feet. I lit one, thinking about the music we’d been working on. The earlier stuff, I’d played along with, argued about, worked on--but this song actually made me feel, for the first time, like we were on the right track.
We broke for the day after that and went into the kitchenette to talk about the album. Ron was still on our asses about the timeframe, and the label was probably still uncertain, but I was feeling good again. I was actually enjoying being a part of Molly Riot. “I think we might have hit on what we need to do,” I told the other guys as we sat in a circle, passing a pipe around.
“That’s a change,” Dan said, glancing from me to Alex. “You’ve barely been about the album at all this whole time.”
“Get off it,” I told him, feeling irritable in spite of how positive things were. “I just like the direction we’re in right now. I like what we worked on today.” Alex raised an eyebrow and sat back from the table to excuse himself from the pot, fishing a cigarette from his pocket.
“As opposed to what we worked on last week?” I shrugged.
“Either the festival shook something loose in me, or Jules came up with a good idea, or both,” I told Alex. “I don’t really care. Neither should you--we’re doing better. That’s worth riding it out.”
“If Mark is done with being a morose asshole, I’m not going to question it that hard,” Nick said, taking a hit and passing the pipe to Dan. “I mean hell--we might just get this album finished at this rate. Do you want to jinx that shit, ‘Lex?”
“I’m just curious,” Alex said with a shrug. “I don’t think playing with another band is enough to make him change. Do you?”
“I think you’re the only one who cares,” Jules said.
“I think he only cares because it was Jules’ song that made him come out of whatever funk he was in,” Dan suggested.
“Are you insulted, Alex?” Nick snickered and hacked.
“Fine, whatever,” Alex said, rolling his eyes and taking a drag of cigarette smoke into his lungs.
“So we’re back in tomorrow, right? Let’s get this rolling a bit faster, since we seem to mostly be on the same page again.” I looked from Dan to Nick to Jules to Alex. Nobody could really argue with what I was saying; I knew I wasn’t the only one who felt the change in the room. I couldn’t bring myself to think it was all me--it was some weird synergy. Whatever Nick, Dan, Jules and Alex had done during the time I was up in Tampa had contributed as much as what I’d done.
“I’ll email you all what I’ve been working on, for my own tracks,” Jules said. “Alex?”
“I’ve got some demos I can send you guys,” Alex admitted. “I’ve reworked a couple of things.”
“How about this,” Nick said, taking the pipe from Jules as he passed it. “We all send each other the reworked demos, and first thing tomorrow, we listen to everything, and work out what we’re going to do with it.”
“Are we starting over again?” Dan looked doubtful, and I couldn’t blame him. This would--technically--be the third time we started on the album. The label was already starting to get restless.
“Not from scratch,” Jules pointed out. “We’ve got a pretty good idea of what we’re doing, finally. And anyway, it’ll go faster this time. We managed to get the parts down for my song in one session.”
“We’re going to end up having to do double time eventually,” Alex said. “Spending every waking moment in this place to get it done even close to on time.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” I suggested. “For now, I like Nick’s plan. Everyone send the reworked demos, we’ll listen to them and then come up with what we’re going to work on for the next week. Let’s just get this shit done.”
“Okay,” Alex said, looking at all of us. “Let’s call it a day and regroup tomorrow.” He looked at me for a long moment, but apparently decided against pushing the issue of whatever had changed for me. We finished off the bowl and everyone started gathering to leave.
“Hey,” Dan said, catching up with me on my way out of the studio, headed to my car. “Sophie has some party she’s going to--bachelorette kind of thing. She’ll be out until dawn. Want to hang out?” I shook my head.
“Nothing personal,” I told him; and for once, it was actually true. “I just already made plans for the evening.” Dan frowned.
“You have met someone, haven’t you?” I rolled my eyes.
“Nick is not a mind reader, and Alex isn’t either.”
“I think it’s good,” Dan said with a shrug. “If you want to keep it to yourself for a while, then do it. Who am I to judge?” He grinned and stepped back and I rolled my eyes again; but I couldn’t help but grin to myself as I went the rest of the way to my car. I couldn’t wait to get back to Allie.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I felt Allie stirring in the bed next to me; I’d been awake for maybe twenty minutes, listening to her breathing, thinking about the album and the band and everything. “You awake?” I opened my eyes and looked at Allie.
“Yeah,” I said, smiling at her. “And apparently, you are, too.” I threw my arm around her waist and pulled myself closer to her. I’d been seeing her for three weeks; ever since the festival weekend. I still hadn’t told anyone in the band. I still didn’t know if there was anything to tell them.
“You in the studio today?” I shook my head.
“Today I am all yours,” I told her. I buried my face against the back of her neck. I still hadn’t managed to figure out how she somehow smelled so good all the time--even when she was drenched in sweat, even when she hadn’t showered. It wasn’t perfume, it wasn’t her soap or her shampoo. It was just something about her skin, about her. “How’s the current assignment going?” Allie shrugged.
“Pretty boring, photoshoot stuff,” she said. “Did I mention? Spin picked up a few of my pictures from you playing with Bent Bridges. Nice tidy profit on that.” I chuckled.
“If they paid for those, imagine how much they’d pay for naked pics of me in your bed,” I joked.
“Not their scene,” Allie countered. She turned around in my arms to face me. “You haven’t really been all that forthcoming about how the album’s going.”
“Don’t want to jinx it,” I told her. “Things are actually going really well.”
“Maybe you guys could use some pictures out there, give the mags an update.”
“You’re forgetting,” I said, tapping the end of Allie’s nose lightly. “Nick’s dating a journalist. If anyone was going to give the magazines an update it would probably be her.” Allie shrugged.
“She’s a writer,” she pointed out. “Not a photog. I could get some good shots in that environment. Maybe even something worth putting in the album artwork.”
“That’s a thought,” I said, considering it. “Is that your oh-so-subtle way of saying you want to meet the rest of Molly Riot?” Allie smiled.
“I do kind of wonder if you’re not…” she shrugged. “We haven’t really talked about what this is.”
“Do you want to?” I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s pretty good the way things are.”
“You haven’t told anyone else about us, right?” Allie raised an eyebrow. I looked down; her tits were especially great that morning.
“No,” I admitted. “I guess I didn’t want to jinx this either.” Allie shifted against me, sitting up a little bit.
“How would telling your friends about this jinx it?”
“I don’t know.” I took a quick breath. “It just seems like everything is so good, and if I push it...if I try and bring it more out into the open, or analyze it, it’s going to fall to shit.”
“The drama with the band really spooked you, didn’t it?” I sat up in bed; I felt uncomfortable again--itchy, like there was something just under my skin.
“Look,” I suggested. “Let’s stay in bed all day. There’s a fucking awesome pizza place up the street, and they deliver. We’ll screw around all day, and eat pizza and wings, and tomorrow we can talk about what this is, and what the deal with the band is.”
“I can wait until tomorrow to talk about the band,” Allie told me. “But I do want to know what this is. Why you won’t even tell the other guys in the band about me, much less define what we’ve got going. Personally, I like it a lot--but I want to know if I should care about it, if I should count on it continuing, or not.”
