by Meg Ripley
“Wanted to break his whole fucking face,” I said.
“Yeah, well, we don’t want you going to jail for battery,” Nick said. “How’s the hand?”
“It hurts like a bitch,” I replied.
“Dan, grab some ice for Mark’s hand and Alex’s face,” Nick called out.
Almost in spite of me, I started to calm down. Nick was hovering over me to keep me from launching myself out of the chair at Alex again, and I assumed Jules was taking care of Alex. Dan brought the ice, and a couple of beers for good measure, and for a few minutes, it was noisy but nothing was really happening. The ice on my hand helped the rage I could feel simmering under my skin, but not enough to make it go away completely.
“We now call this meeting of Molly Riot band members to order,” Jules said dryly from across the room. Everyone sort of settled into their seats, and I looked across the living room to see that Alex had a dish towel full of ice pressed to his face.
“First order of business,” Nick said, “is whether we still have a band.”
“We’re short two tracks for the album,” Dan pointed out. “We need maybe one more week of recording and we can turn things over to Jack and be done with it.”
“But it won’t matter if we can’t even have Alex and Mark in the same room without things getting physical,” Jules countered.
“We sure as hell wouldn’t be able to promote or tour the album like that,” Nick added.
“Anyone want to comment on the fact that that fucker just nearly broke my nose?”
“You earned it,” Jules told Alex. “You’re fucking lucky that we didn’t all jump you.”
“What the fuck were you even thinking?” It felt good to hear Jules and Dan sticking up for me. “Like if you were right about Allie and believed it for real, you’d have just let her show her true colors.”
“It’s not important what Alex was thinking,” Nick said. “What’s important is whether we can function as a band, and what that’s going to look like if we do.”
“How the hell are we supposed to move forward from this?” Jules looked at me. “That asshole kissed my girlfriend without her consent to try and make me break up with her.”
“Let’s take a minute to think about this,” Jules said. “I mean, I’m not even saying that I want the band to keep going under all circumstances, but I think we have a good fucking album. I think we can move forward from this as long as people have--like--good intentions and shit.”
“What would that look like, though?” Dan sipped his beer. “I mean, we’ve had fights and shit before--but this kind of bullshit is pretty bleak.”
“We can do reparations,” Nick suggested. “Make Alex give up part of his share of the album sales.”
“What the fuck! How is that fair?” I saw Jules shove Alex back down into the chair.
“Would you accept that, if it was an option?” Dan looked at me.
“He’d have to apologize to Allie, too,” I said, flexing my numbed fingers. A little residual pain crackled along my knuckles. “And he’d have to fucking promise that he wouldn’t so much as touch her again--that he wouldn’t even be in a room alone with her.”
“That’s fair,” Jules said, nodding.
“What the fuck?” Alex tried to get up again, and Jules pushed him back down.
“You brought this on yourself, asshole,” Nick told Alex. “Unless you want to publicly be the one to break up the band and get no shares of the finished album because we won’t use any of your parts on it, or your songs?”
“I didn’t even do anything that fucking bad,” Alex protested. I rolled my eyes.
“You think Mary agrees with you? We can get her in here,” Dan suggested. “From what I hear she’s not a big fan of what you did either.”
“How many days has it been since you got laid last?” I resisted the urge to snicker at Jules’ question.
“It was a kiss, it’s not like I molested her,” Alex said. “And anyway, if their relationship was so flimsy, then that would fucking end it…”
“Your goal was to end it, so don’t pull that shit on us,” Nick said. “And you call Mary right fucking now and ask her how she would feel if one of us grabbed her and kissed her against her will.” Alex started to protest but he obviously realized he had nothing to say in his own defense.
“So, an apology from Alex to Allie, and Alex gives up part of his share of the next album’s sales to Mark,” Dan said. He shook his head. “I can’t fully believe that we’ve reached a point in this band where these kinds of things happen.”
“We’re a corporate band now,” Jules said, wryly. He looked at each of us. “I think we need to talk about that.”
“I agree,” Nick said. “We’ve let the machine do too much for us.”
“This whole album has been about that,” I pointed out. “Like the whole deal--how much money we got for it for working with Fran’s band, how long we were taking, all of it. Is this the band we want to be?” It was almost a relief to get off the topic of what had pissed me off so much, what had so nearly destroyed us as a group.
“Yeah,” Dan agreed. The chatter went on for a while, and I listened more than I talked; basically, we’d all felt--in one way or another, at one point or another, without saying anything to each other about it--that we’d lost control of what Molly Riot actually was. Of who we were as a band.
“I guess what we do is tell Ron that we want to manage more of our own shit,” Jules suggested.
“All of us,” Nick interjected. “Not just Alex.” He scowled at our lead singer.
“I get it, I get it,” Alex said. The blood had stopped flowing from his nose; when he took the ice away I thought it probably wasn’t broken, but he wasn’t going to have a pleasant time for about a week or so. “I’m fucking scum.”
“Yeah, you kind of are,” Dan said. “And if you want the band to keep existing, you’d better be fucking prepared to deal with it.”
“I’m tired of talking,” Jules said, slumping a bit in his chair. “Let’s order some food and smoke out and just chill for a while.” It didn’t feel quite like things were resolved--even an apology to Allie and me getting part of Alex’s share of the next album’s sales didn’t seem exactly to make things even--but for the time being, at least the band wasn’t breaking up. At least we’d figured out what the problem under all the problems was. We could at least get the album done; after that, who knew?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
It was our first date since “the incident” as Allie called it; the band and I had managed to get through the end of recording the album, and I’d basically just made sure that I was never alone with Alex, that I spent my free time outside of actively recording with one of the other guys. I’d kept in touch with Allie over the course of the week, but I hadn’t been ready to see her again until everything about the album was done and over.
“It feels weirdly like a first date, doesn’t it?” Allie glanced around Houston’s, for a second looking as nervous as she sounded. It was as upscale as any place we’d gone to together outside of Miami, and I’d chosen it for that reason: I wanted it to be special, to be nice, to be romantic. I wanted things to work out between us.
We ordered peel and eat shrimp, and I got the trout while Allie got the salmon, and by the time we were both about halfway through our cocktails, things started to ease up a bit, to feel more natural. “I can’t believe you almost broke Alex’s nose,” Allie said, shaking her head.
“When I saw him it just…” I shrugged. “I thought about what he’d done and why he’d done it, and I just went off.”
“But we’re okay, right?” Allie held my gaze. She’d done something different with her makeup--she looked amazing.
“We’re okay,” I told her. “More than okay--as long as you’re okay.”
“I’m just glad you believed me,” Allie said, smiling shyly. I reached across the table and took her hand in mine.
“To be honest, Jules had already kind of primed
the pump,” I said. “He’d suggested to me that you might not have been into it, that Alex might have just been pulling something to be an asshole.”
“Then I’ll thank Jules later for believing me, too,” Allie said.
We got into our food, and I relaxed more and more. Everything felt right, everything felt good. We talked about what we’d been up to since the incident--without dwelling on the incident itself, since we were putting that behind us. Allie had booked some new shoots--and since I’d already given her gear back to her, she was able to do a couple of them. I told her about finishing up the album. “We’re just waiting to hear back from the label at this point,” I said. “I honestly think it’s the best album we’ve ever done.”
“Well, based on the rough mixes you let me hear, it’s pretty fucking amazing,” Allie told me.
“Jack still has to do the full mix, but I think it’ll hit.” I smirked. “Good news for me, since I’m getting half of Alex’s shares for this album.”
“Half?” Allie stared at me.
“I negotiated for half so that I could give you half of that,” I told her.
“I--what?” Allie shook her head.
“I didn’t think the apology was enough,” I explained. “I want him to feel the fucking pinch for what he did--and what he was trying to do.”
“But he failed in breaking us up,” Allie pointed out.
“Not for lack of trying,” I countered. “And if Jules hadn’t talked sense into me, and if you hadn’t refused to give up, we’d be broken up.”
“Wow.” Allie sat back in her chair. “I...I’ve never actually gotten money for something I didn’t work on.”
“Your pictures are in the liner notes,” I told her. “Except for the ones of Alex.” I smirked.
“You’re kidding me,” Allie said.
“It was Nick’s idea,” I said, shrugging. The waiter came to the table.
“Dessert?” I shook my head, keeping Allie from saying anything.
“I’ve got something for us at home,” I looked at Allie and grinned.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
We barely made it through the door to my apartment; I couldn’t keep my hands off of Allie. I somehow managed to get the key in the lock and get the door open, and then we were in my living room, kissing each other, hands all over the place. It had been more than a week since I’d even really been alone with her, much less since we’d even thought about having sex. I closed the door behind us and pulled Allie by the hand towards my bedroom; my cock was already hard, already throbbing.
“I thought…” I stopped Allie’s comment with a kiss, plunging my tongue into her mouth, letting my hands wander over the curves of her body. “I thought you said something about dessert,” she said when she was able to break away from my lips. I laughed.
“We have to burn off some of that dinner first, right?” I dipped down to her neck and kissed and nibbled, cupping her tits in my hands, giving them a quick squeeze. We stumbled into my room and I tugged at her dress, trying to find where it zipped, where it tied, how to get it off of her as quickly as possible. “I love how this looks on you, but it is a fucking pain to take off,” I murmured against the spot just below Allie’s ear.
“It’s not that hard,” Allie said, giggling. She guided my hands to a spot along her side and I found the zipper there, pulled it down. I felt her moving, and then all at once the dress was slipping down over her body, sliding along her curves, catching at her hips for just a second before falling to her feet in a puddle. I took in the sight of her: her tits barely held in the strapless bra, the matching lace panties that I could see were already wet through from how turned on she was, the shape of her in the light of my bedroom. “How did I go this fucking long without this?” I reached up and cupped her boobs in my hands, giving them another squeeze before I reached around to the back to unhook the bra.
Allie went to work too, unbuttoning my shirt, tugging it down over my shoulders, pulling the hem of it free of my pants. I pulled her panties down from her hips and let them fall to her knees, and just like she’d practiced it her entire life, she stepped right out of them to stand in front of me, completely naked. Her hands went to the fly of my pants, and I resisted the urge to help her get me undressed, knowing it would just make it take longer when we got all tangled up in each other.
I focused on her mouth, on her tits, teasing her, kissing and licking and sucking, tasting the sweat and soap on her skin, breathing in the smell of her perfume. Allie managed to get my pants down to my knees, and I kicked them off the rest of the way, almost tripping over them as I started to pull her towards the bed. I kissed her hungrily, letting my hand slip up between her legs, until I felt the slick wet folds of her pussy against my fingers. I rubbed and stroked her, working down deeper between the labia, and I knew the instant I found her clit by the way she gasped and shivered against me.
We fell into bed together, and for a while it was like we were both too shy to actually go through with what we wanted; we just kept kissing each other, me working Allie with my fingers, her rubbing my cock, stroking me up and down, her thumb swirling around the tip of my erection. I could feel myself getting harder and harder by the minute, more and more turned on as Allie worked me, speeding up and slowing down just as I did, teasing me just like I was doing to her.
All at once I couldn’t stand it anymore; I knew if I let her keep going, I was going to come in her hand--and that wasn’t what I wanted. I pinned Allie down onto the bed, slithering on top of her, and claimed her mouth with mine as I shifted down between her legs. She was soaking wet, and I wanted to feel her tight heat wrapped around my cock so bad I could just about taste it. I took a deep breath when I broke away from her lips, trying to get enough self-control to keep from hitting climax right away, and guided the tip of my cock up against her pussy, rubbing along her hot, wet folds for a few heartbeats before I started to slide in.
Her muscles flexed around me and I heard her breathy little cry just under the sound of my own moaning. Allie wrapped her legs around my waist and I pushed deeper and deeper inside of her, filling her up inch by inch, until my hips were right up against hers. “I’ve missed this,” I told her in a little whisper, almost shuddering at the strain of holding back.
“God, me too,” Allie said, her arms wrapping around my shoulders, her fingertips pressing against my skin. I took a quick breath and started moving, rocking my hips against hers, pulling out just an inch--maybe two--and sliding back in. Like magic, Allie fell right in with my beat, twisting her hips against mine, pushing down to meet my thrusts. I knew--absolutely knew--that I wasn’t going to last very long, the way she felt and how long it had been since we’d last fucked. But I was going to make every minute I could last count.
I started out so slowly it almost made my balls ache, holding myself back, feeling Allie’s inner walls tightening around me even as she somehow managed to get wetter and wetter. But in what seemed like only a few minutes, I found myself speeding up, thrusting harder and faster inside of her, kissing her everywhere my lips could reach. The sound of Allie’s moans and gasps and cries of pleasure was enough to drive me crazy--enough to make me almost want to abandon any idea of holding back at all. I tried to slow down a few times, but I couldn’t keep it up; I had to keep going.
All at once the tension building up down deep between my hips just snapped, and I groaned out as wave after wave of pleasure crackled through my body like live electricity. I heard Allie crying out again and again, felt her muscles flexing around me in erratic little spasms, and tried to keep myself going for her sake, to give her the longest climax possible. Before too long, though, I could feel myself finishing, the last little jolts of orgasm shocking my nerves, leaving me completely spent--at least for about five minutes. I collapsed down onto the bed next to Allie, letting my arms and legs tangle with hers, panting and gasping for breath just like she was.
“Was that good enough?” I pushed my sweaty hair out of my face and opened my eye
s to look at the woman I had nearly lost.
“It’s a good start,” Allie said, with the little grin I liked so much. “But you’d better have dessert for me as well as a repeat performance.”
“Oh--fuck, I almost forgot,” I said, shaking my head and laughing. “I have dessert. Give me a minute to catch my breath.” I kissed her on the cheek sloppily, and then on the forehead, and then on the lips, and sank back down onto the bed, waiting for my heart to slow down, for my breathing to even out.
When I was recovered enough to be able to use my legs, I crawled out of the bed and gave Allie another quick grin on my way to the bedroom door. I padded across the living room and into the kitchen, and opened the fridge to look for the treat I’d gotten earlier that day. The Hoffman’s Chocolates box jumped out at me from everything else on the same shelf, and I picked it up, taking just a second to glance inside and make sure that my surprise for Allie was perfectly intact still.
I carried the box with me back into the bedroom and found Allie half-sitting up at the head of the bed, bright-eyed and smiling. She saw the box in my hands and the smile deepened. “Oooh, what did you get us?”
“Chocolate covered strawberries, and a few of the dipped Oreos,” I told her. I sat down on the bed and opened the box up, extending it towards Allie. She immediately plucked one of the strawberries, and I watched her face as she closed her eyes and bit into it; the sound of the moan that left her throat was as good as it was during sex--and it started me right back up. Plenty of time in the night still, I reminded my cock, setting the box down between Allie and me and picking out a chocolate-dipped Oreo for myself.
“This is definitely at least as good as anything we could have gotten at Houston’s,” Allie said around a mouthful of chocolate and strawberry. She leaned in close and kissed me on the lips, and I could taste the sweet-tart strawberry, the bittersweet chocolate, the taste of her.
