Hard Rock Arrangement

by Ava Lore

  “Jesus,” Kent growled. His eyes closed and his head lolled on his neck, thrusting into my hand, and I reveled in the velvety feel of his erection against my palm. A bead of precum shone at the tip, and I squeezed, hoping to wring more from him.

  His hips stuttered and then he was on me, working my jeans and my panties off over my hips, throwing them to the ground as he opened his mouth against my ear.

  “You're going to make me come, Rebecca,” he murmured, and his voice was like velvet on my brain. “Let's not get this party over with too quickly.”

  I didn't have any words left. I just arched into him, the rough fabric of his jeans abrading the tender skin on the inside of my thighs as I ran my hands over his muscular arms, feeling every rise and fall of him, every hill and valley of his painted terrain.

  Then he pulled back. I started to protest, but when I saw where he was going the protest died in my throat. Seconds later his tongue stroked my pussy and I shivered.

  “Oh... oh god...” I barely recognized my own voice—throaty with arousal, crushed under the weight of my need.

  “You're so wet already,” Kent murmured. “You want me that bad?”

  “Worse,” I moaned.

  Rough fingertips parted the lips of my pussy, and then one long, calloused finger was inside me as his tongue fluttered over my clit.

  I sucked air, pressing my wrist to my mouth, struggling to keep myself from crying out. Carter was just next door... I couldn't wake him...

  Then Kent stroked another finger into me, curling them and circling his rough fingertips over just the right spot, and my toes curled as my back arched and my hips bucked. My mouth fell open but no sound came out as I felt the ecstasy begin to bloom across my body.

  Pleasure obliterated my thoughts, blanking out my mind as I curled inward, every nerve exploding, every muscle clenching and releasing until I begged Kent to stop, I couldn't take it.

  He gave my clit one last soft lick, sending sparks radiating out through my limbs, before raising his head and giving me the most wicked grin I'd ever seen.

  That smile took my breath away. I'd never seen him look so... happy.

  “You were really ready,” he said conversationally. His fingers were still inside me.

  “I...” I'd barely caught my breath. “I don't think I've ever come so fast before.”

  “I wonder how many times I can make you come tonight, then? Perhaps we'll set a record if you're so primed...”

  Just the thought stoked the fires again, and he made a sound of deep pleasure when he felt my inner walls contract around his fingers. “You like that idea,” he said.

  I shot him a scowl. “Who wouldn't?”

  He laughed at that. “Well, let's try it then.” He bent his head to me again, but I sat up and buried my fingers in his hair, keeping him from dipping into me. He gave me a questioning look.

  “I want you inside me,” I said, then blushed hard. I'd never said anything like that before, but it was the truth. If I didn't have him inside me, and soon, I was going to explode. I'd been lusting after him all month, coming with him even though we were in separate rooms, and now that I had the chance to finally feel him in me, I wasn't letting it slip away.

  The humor in his face was replaced by barely concealed fire. “Well,” he said, “when you put it that way...”

  I watched as he reached around his body. He still wore his jeans, and when he pulled out his wallet I breathed a sigh of relief. I certainly wasn't carrying any condoms, so at least one of us was prepared. I watched as he reached in and pulled out a gold-foiled packet.

  His blue-green eyes caught mine. “Would you like to do the honors?” he asked.

  I licked my lips and nodded. Anything to get my hands on him again.

  He handed me the packet and shucked off his jeans while I ripped it open. Grabbing the little circle of latex, I dove for his cock.

  He inhaled sharply as I closed my hand around his shaft and placed the condom on the tip of the soft head. Slowly, I reached up and began to unroll it, letting it sheathe his erection as my fingers played with the velvety smooth skin, slipping it over the iron-hard shaft inside. When I finally pushed it down to the base of the shaft, he gave a little shudder.

  “Shit,” he said. “I'm glad I'm wearing this. I think I might come if you looked at me wrong.”

  I looked up at his face, and it was fierce and dark with unveiled hunger.

  “Yes,” he said. “Like that.” Then his hands were buried in my hair and I was pinned beneath his weight, falling into the softness of the couch cushions as he settled between my legs, the tip of his soft head pressing into me.

  I wanted him in me so badly. I needed to feel him. Bringing my legs up, I wrapped them around his wonderful, trim waist, then reached down and grabbed him, guiding him into me.

  He buried his face against my throat. “Yes,” I heard him say. Then his hips were pressing forward, splitting me, parting me, and I bit his shoulder to keep from screaming.

  Long. Slow. Luxurious. It took forever, but not long enough, and when he was finally seated in me, thick and long and hard, I marveled that I could fit all of him. I nudged his hips with mine, but he didn't reciprocate. I frowned through the pleasure.

  He drew back, pushing himself off me so he could look me in the eye, and his gaze was downright sinful.

  “You ever fucked standing up before?” he asked, a wicked little smile on his face.

  Inhaling sharply, I shook my head.

  “Then you are in for the ride of your life.” And he pulled me up from the couch, my legs still wrapped around him and walked with me to the wall next to the window, carrying me easily. The strength in his arms, in his hands, in his body shocked me, and my core clenched around his cock in anticipation.

  Then my back met the wall and I was sandwiched between his burning body and the cool sheetrock. Both were equally hard.

  I tensed, suddenly feeling less than stable, but then he wrapped his hands around the round cheeks of my ass. “Hold on,” he said. “Trust me.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he began to move in me.

  Oh, I thought.

  Every thrust, in and out, made my toes curl, made my mouth water. Every undulation of his powerful body rocked through me, a seismic shift deep inside. My nails dug into his skin and he groaned, picking up his pace until all I knew was the heat, the crowded pleasure, the sweetness of his breath in my head. My legs were locked around his waist and I dug my heels in, aching, arching, needing him so badly I could taste it. Then he kissed me and I went to a whole new level.

  My body trembled as he stroked me, his erection plumbing the depths of my wet core, and I clung to him for dear life. My back knocked into the wall, but I couldn't have cared less—our mouths met and parted with each thrust, and my toes curled as I felt my orgasm building deep inside.

  I'd never felt anything like it. The weight of my body and the force of gravity seemed to pull every nerve down into my core. The rocking of his hips as he thrust upwards slapped against my spread thighs, a spanking without hands, and each smack of flesh on flesh drove me higher and higher. I couldn't breathe, couldn't even think, just threw my head back and moaned, my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair.

  “Rebecca,” he said. “Rebecca, I want you to come.”

  I gasped at his words. “I...” My whole body responded to his words, shocking me. “Oh god, Kent...” I said. “I want to...”

  “Fuck me,” he said. “Fuck me, wring me dry, come around me and take me with you—”

  I shuddered, and then I came, hard and powerful. It struck me like a sledgehammer, shattering me into a hundred thousand pieces, and yet somehow I stayed in his arms, my eyes rolling, reduced to my animal self as all higher functions shut down. Deep, aching moans filled the room and I realized they were mine.

  Kent's breath came fast and hard as he slammed into me, my core squeezing around his shaft, and within seconds he jerked against me, his pumpi
ng hips slamming me against the wall, and the pleasure and pain mixed and became one—

  ...I came down as Kent lowered us to the floor, his legs trembling.

  “Oh god,” I said.

  He gave a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  He slipped out of me, and then helped me to my feet, his lips meeting mine, and reached up and around, pulling him into me. Hungrily I kissed him until he groaned and pulled away.

  “Jesus, Rebecca, you make me want to go again and I don't think my legs can take it.”

  I gave him my own wicked little smile. “Then I'll do all the work.”

  “Yes, please.”

  We moved to the bed and tumbled together again, and afterward, exhausted emotionally and physically, I fell asleep.

  Late at night I woke up again and had to go to the bathroom. I slipped out of bed and did my business as quietly as possible, but when I came back to bed Kent was awake in the dark.

  I slid into bed next to him, reached out, and wrapped my arm around his chest, letting my fingers trace the tattoos there.

  “So,” I said, “I'm thinking I should break up with your brother.”

  He smiled. “I was thinking that, too.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him. “Oh, were you?”

  “Yes. You have no idea how much I was thinking that.”

  “It's going to be weird with the publicity you put into this.”

  “I'll think of something. I don't think I could go back to seeing you with him, even though I know it's just an act. I want you to myself.”

  This still didn't seem real. “Why?”

  “Because I want to get to know you better, and I can't do that with my kid brother hanging around,” he told me.

  “Yeah, but why?”

  He frowned and propped his head up on his hand. “Why not?”

  “You could have any girl you wanted. You should be dating supermodels.”

  He shook his head. “I don't want to date supermodels. I want to date you. I want to get to know what you like and what you don't. I want to make you laugh. I want to wake you up and put you to sleep.”

  His words rocked me, scared me a little with their intensity. But he was serious, and I found that I loved it. “Then why didn't you just do that in the first place?”

  Kent snorted. “Because... I don't know. I didn't want to want to date someone, if that makes sense. I thought it would be a distraction from keeping the band rolling” He rolled back on the pillow and gave me a sidelong glance. “Of course, you were way more of a distraction even without dating me so... I'm stupid?”

  I giggled. “That makes two of us.”

  “Good company,” he said and kissed me with a fervor that I felt all the way down to my toes.

  When he finally pulled away my head was spinning, but something was occurring to me. “Wait, are we dating now?”

  “Don't be silly. I haven't asked you out yet.”

  “So what is this?”

  “Really fucking nice,” he said. Then he frowned. “Or is it really nice fucking? Fuck it, who cares? I bet it's both.” He kissed me again. And then he rolled into me and there were more than kisses, and you know what?

  He was right. It was both.

  *

  I slipped out of Kent's room and back to my own early the next morning. I tried to be as quiet as possible as I unlocked the door to the room I shared with Carter, but the click sounded like a gunshot in the quiet hallway.

  “Shut up!” I told it, and eased the door open.

  Carter was standing there in his pajamas, a cup of coffee in his hand, looking smug.

  I groaned. “Don't,” I said. “Don't say anything.”

  “Say anything about what, Mrs. Girlfriend?” he asked. “About you coming home in the clothes you were wearing last night? Although I bet it was an awfully short walk of shame...”

  I glared at him. “Why did you do all that work to try to hook me up with your brother? Don't you think it's a little weird?”

  “Weird? Excuse me? What was weird was him making you my fake girlfriend when he wanted to bone you himself. That was weird. I get why he did it, but you know. It's still weird.”

  “Why did he do it?” I pushed past him and to the tiny kitchen where there was still a pouch of single-serve coffee left and I set about making some. Carter leaned against the counter.

  “Well, he was right. It did clean up my image. But mostly I think it's because he's a self-sacrificing dork who thinks if he's happy then he's not doing his job right.”

  My lips twisted at that. I could definitely see it. “And that's why?”

  Carter shrugged. “I've never seen Kent happy. You want to know who else I never saw happy?”

  My curiosity was piqued. “Who?”

  He sipped his coffee. “Our dad. That fucker was never happy. I don't want Kent to end up like that. That would be the worst fucking thing in the world.”

  Carter's face was grim, and for a moment I thought I'd ask him about his father, but just then my phone dinged at me.

  I frowned—who'd be messaging me at this time in the morning? Maybe my mother. She never seemed to get the hang of time zones.

  But it wasn't from my mother. It was from Jason.

  “Everyone knows what you are now, whore.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. I didn't know what those words meant, but they couldn't mean anything good.

  “Uh,” I said. “Just a second. I have to check something on my computer.”

  “What's wrong?” Carter asked, but I didn't reply. I just rushed into the bedroom, snatched my computer from the bedside table, and opened it. My hands trembled as I typed in my password and connected to the hotel's Wi-Fi. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I knew where I could find it.

  The very first gossip blog showed me exactly what he was talking about.

  My blood turned to stone in my veins as I stared at the screen.

  “Rebecca?” Carter in the doorway. “Are you okay?”

  Wordlessly I handed my laptop to him.

  He stared at the screen, at the image of me and Kent, backlit in his hotel room, me up against the wall as he fucked me, my head thrown back, our bodies coupling.

  “CARTER HUDSON'S GIRLFRIEND UNFAITHFUL—WITH HIS BROTHER!” the headline screamed.

  Carter's face went pale.

  “We can fix this,” he said, but he sounded unsure. “We can fix it, Rebecca.”

  He turned and practically ran out of the room and I barely had the presence of mind to follow him. He was banging on Kent's door before I knew what was happening.

  Kent opened it, and I was struck with a bolt of déjà vu. Just like last night, except everything had changed.

  Kent took one look at the photo beaming out across the world, and I saw his face change.

  No, I wanted to say. No, I was just getting started with you, with all of you...

  But he lifted his eyes to mine, and I knew it as much as he did.

  My time here was done.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Twenty minutes later an emergency full band meeting had convened in Kent's room and the news was out.

  “Congratulations, Captain Keep-It-In-Your-Pants,” Sonya said as she perused every celebrity gossip site on the web. “This is, by far, the biggest publicity push we've had since Carter threw up on Beyonce's shoes.”

  Manny, leaning over her shoulder, just nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Good job. That looked like a fun time.”

  Sitting next to Kent on the couch, my only response was to bury my face in my hands. Thank god humiliation didn't weigh anything because if it did I would have generated my own gravity field.

  Kent didn't say anything, just stared at the glass coffee table in front of us, as though it were a scrying glass and he could see the future in it.

  “This is stupid,” Carter said. He was standing at the window, glaring down into the parking lot as though he was hoping to find Jason's lurking figure taking pictures in the dark.
“This is just stupid. I don't care! I set them up! I wanted this to happen.”

  “Yeah, but ideally you would have broken up very publicly with Rebecca and then told the world that you thought she belonged with your brother instead. This is the sort of thing you have to get out in front of, dumbass.” Sonya snorted and snapped the laptop closed. “Too fucking late for that now. Anything you say is going to be interpreted as face-saving.”

  Carter sat down on the floor in a huff. “But it's not,” he said. His voice had taken on a distinct whining tone, and as he collapsed backwards onto the floor he looked suspiciously like a teenager who'd had his car keys taken away.

  “At least it's publicity?” Manny said.

  “Bad publicity,” Sonya told him,

  “I've been led to believe there is no such thing,” he shot back.

  “There is for Rebecca,” Sonya said. “It doesn't matter what Kent or Carter say, everyone's going to paint her as a slut.”

  Silence descended on the room and I stared at my hands in my lap. I knew Sonya was right.

  “Jesus, Sonya,” Carter said after a minute. “You don't have to say it like that.”

  “I'm just telling you the truth,” she replied. “Do I think she's a slut? Absolutely not. But you guys don't know. The girl always gets the raw end of the deal in little scandals like these. That's just how it is.”

  “I should just tell everyone she was my babysitter to begin with,” Carter said. “Clear the whole mess up.”

  “You can't do that,” I said.

  He looked at me. “Why not?”

  “Because,” I said, “you're getting into film. You barely have a toe in the door, and you can't let people think that you needed twenty-four seven handling. You can't. No one would want to work with you. That's why I posed as your girlfriend in the first place, remember?”

  His jaw worked, but I could see he knew I was right. “Then what are we going to do?” he asked. “We can't just, like, cut you off. That would be cruel.”

  But Sonya was shaking her head. “It might be the best thing for her. Let her fade away into obscurity. There's no need to drag her through all that bullshit any more than she already has been. It'll be a boost on the band's profile and that's it. You know as well as I do that if she hangs around she's going to get fucking eviscerated.” She heaved a sigh. “You want to talk about cruel? Keep her in the spotlight so everyone can gossip about her.”