A sigh escapes her mouth as I move her backwards and the desk digs into her ass. I grip her waist and lift her up, setting her on the leather top.
“Don’t,” she murmurs, her palms on my chest, arms quivering.
“Kiss me.”
“No,” she sighs as though the wind is rustling autumnal leaves.
Her eyes widen, fear and fierceness blending in her glance as her lips part and the tip of her tongue flickers in her mouth, pink against the pearly glow of her perfect teeth.
“Kiss me,” I demand, my mind filled with a ravenous desire.
My dick is rock hard, aching for her and stripping me of rationality entirely.
Eavan leans in and brushes the corner of my mouth with her hot moist lips, her body shivering as though she wants to fuse with me, but some force is pulling her back. Hair stands up on my back and I press my lips against hers, parting her thighs with my hand.
Every molecule of my being feels like there is an invisible chain connecting us.
I push her so her back rests against the desk, my mouth on hers, my tongue touching hers. She squeals quietly as I wrap her thigh around my waist and glide my hand over her ass cheek, rubbing my erection against her crotch. Her body is taut against mine so I kiss her deeper harder, fighting her resistance, exploring her mouth with a fierce impatience. She moans and her muscles relax. I feel her surrender to me. I feel her hunger for me. She wants to surrender to me.
“What are you doing to me?” I rasp into her sweet mouth, inhaling her and memorising her.
“The autograph,” she gasps.
“Breakfast tomorrow.”
“No.”
“Yes. At the Randell’s. Nine o’clock in the morning.”
“No.”
“Yes or no autographs.”
“Okay. Breakfast tomorrow. At the Randell’s.” Her fingers dig into my back.
I slip my fingers under her panties to taste the firmness of her ass, but she growls with fury.
“Okay,” I say, taking my hand off her. “Message received.”
It’s funny actually. I won’t fuck her tonight. Neither will I tomorrow, but that’s okay. It’s exciting. I’m going to do the things right for the first time in a very long time.
I straighten and pull her shivering body into my arms. It feels just right as though we merge into one being. I kiss the top of her head and growl from my throat.
“We have a concert here every four-six months,” I say and cup her face in both my hands, still standing between her knees and planting a kiss on her forehead.
She looks aloof and a cold gloom rushes through my veins. I kill it, sinking my fingers into her amazing hair. It’s sleek and thick to touch, smelling of roses. Smelling of her.
“I can behave like a gentleman, Eavan.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to be a gentleman. Maybe I like the caveman in you.”
“Okay,” I say. My inner animal stirs in excitement, craves to hunt, possess. I want to be a caveman. I’ve never been one. No woman has posed such a challenge for me so far. Eavan is like an ultimate challenge. “I can make you scream of pleasure beneath me right now. Just say a word.”
“Maybe I could make you moan of pleasure beneath me.”
“I’m thrilled to explore this option.”
“I have to go.”
“But we’re good for tomorrow?” I capture her lips with mine and kiss her tenderly.
“Yes. The autographs.”
I pull away from her, approaching the other desk. Grabbing a pen, I hold a pile of the band’s photos and sign ten of them.
Eavan
I slide down, planting my feet on the floor. My thighs are still quivering, sparks of white and red colours whirling in my head. Fucking hell. What did just happen?
An amazing kisser happened.
I loved it, every bit of it. Every brush of his fingers, every touch of his lips and every lick of his tongue.
I’m not very experienced in kissing, but women must kill for his kiss.
I want more, but not tonight. I can’t do more tonight. I can’t do more at all. That realisation causes sadness to waft through me like a gust of the wind carrying the scent of a historic graveyard has gone past me.
Well, I shouldn’t even be here, to be honest.
I take the photos from Seafra’s hand and move towards the door, pouring out into the corridor. A soft sound reaches my ears-a female’s moans like a delicate crescendo and I slow down like my feet are glued to the floor.
Seafra throws his arm over my back, pushing me gently forward. “Don’t pay attention. It’s probably Hale and one of the girls.”
I knew there would be such a kind of dirt in this house. Embarrassment and curiosity mix inside me, sending heat throughout my body.
We move slowly towards the stairs and pass a room, its door wide open. I freeze with consternation at the sight of the naked people on the four-poster bed inside of the room. Hale is enjoying two girls. The ginger is on all fours and Hale is fucking her from behind, her face between the other girl’s legs. The other girl moans and wiggles, her blonde hair like a storm on the bed sheets.
Heat fills my tummy and I can’t move, watching the primal lust between those three people. The air around them sends a subtle sizzle pricking and burning my skin.
“You like it?” Seafra whispers into my ear and nibbles on my earlobe.
“I—“
“You can watch for a moment. They don’t mind.”
Hale pushes himself into the ginger faster and I see his hard cock pumping in and out.
I swallow thickly. “I—“
Seafra’s hands squeeze my breasts as he presses his chest against my back and grazes the angle of my jaw. “You can watch but for your information, I will never share you. Never. No one will touch you, except me.” There is a hint of menace in his voice as he puts his hand on my tummy and rubs his hard on against my ass.
I pull forward, my pussy pulsing, and my throat dry as Seafra’s arms seize me around the waist from behind. His hot mouth touches the side of my neck, sending an electric current across my skin. We move forward along the corridor and I find myself between the railing of the stairs and his body. The white ornate edge digs into my stomach as Seafra pulls my sleeve down, exposing my breast and kisses my shoulder. My lifeless hand loosens the grip on the photos and they float down towards the rosette of the floor in the main hall downstairs. They’re rustling like a bird’s feather, landing scattered across the floor but I don’t care. I can only focus on Seafra’s hard cock rubbing against my ass, on his hand cupping my naked breast and on his mouth grazing along my neck.
He holds my chin and our lips meet again. I feel the wildness and danger again, the tingle spreading across my skin, the wetness in my panties. The heat centring on my tummy.
“Fucking hell,” Seafra murmurs. “You’re driving me mad, woman.”
His fingers roll my nipple and I moan into his mouth. He kisses me deeper, fiercely, possessively like I belong to him. And I do for one brief moment. I’m his breath, his touch, his heartbeat as is he all those things mine.
“Eavan,” Ruby’s voice tears me out of this madness.
I look down and see Coyote picking up the photos from the floor and handing them to Ruby.
“We have to go,” Ruby says.
“I know, honey,” I rasp and wiggle out of Seafra’s embrace, correcting my dress, an incinerating flush on my cheeks.
Shakiness takes possession of my body and mind and everything turns into a blur. I can’t breathe. Pain seizes my chest.
As I sit in the back seat of the taxi Coyote’s ordered for us, I can’t recall what happened during past ten minutes.
Seafra said something to me, but I don’t remember what. He kissed my lips and Ruby pulled me behind her.
I’m still shaking. Ruby is talking to me, but I can’t discern the words.
“Eavan,” Ruby growls.
“What,” I say sharply, as my fingers close around
a piece of paper.
“You broke all the rules,” she says with sarcasm and shakes her head. “And you’re the boss here not me. You should be perfect, you should set an example for me.” Her eyes flicker with pity then a wide smile parts her lips. “You’re always so strict and tonight?”
“Well—“
“He really likes you.” Her voice is soft, melodious. I love her like this so much. I love her twittering, exuding joy. Without all the pain. “Don’t lose his telephone number.”
I glance down at the piece of paper in my hand and put it into my clutch bag.
“He likes you,” Ruby twitters.
“I think Coyote likes you.”
“He was just nice,” she sighs. “It was nice. Normal.”
“Coyote kissed you.”
“Just my neck,” Ruby says in a faltering voice and rolls her fingers into fists, crossing her wrists on her lap. She inhales deeply, blinks nervously and smirks at me. “Coyote and I weren’t naughty. But Seafra and you were really naughty.”
“I guess I was naughty.”
I squeeze her hand with mine as the taxi slows down and stops in front of our house. Ruby pays the driver and I help her get out of the car.
We enter the house and go straight to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. My eyes fix on Jack sitting at the kitchen table, the light of two street lamps filtering inside. Ruby lays her trembling hand on my shoulder. I suck in a breath and Jack slams his fist on the table. My insides jump as Ruby steps forward. I switch on the light and look into Jack’s eyes. Fury pervades his amber glance. Coldness runs through my veins.
“Eavan,” Jack says in a menacing voice, raising himself in one motion and moving closer to us.
His massive form towers over mine as his face darkens, making him look older than he is. He’s forty-three, but has the body of a fit thirty-year-old.
“I’m sorry, Jack,” I say. “This was my idea.” My heart thumps in my ears.
“Where have you been?” Jack snaps, rubbing his palm against his white shirt.
“It was a very private party,” Ruby shrieks and trembles. “The band ‘Red Asylum’ invited us over.”
“You did the fuck what?” he rumbles. “It’s fucking unbelievable.”
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“You’re sorry?” There is a high-pitched crack in his voice.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat, my voice thin like liquid, trembling.
“There are rules.” Jack raises his finger in a threatening gesture. “No fucking parties. No social life. No wandering after dusk.”
“I’m sorry, Jack,” Ruby says.
His face softens as he lays his hand on her shoulder and strokes her arm. “Did you have fun, kiddo?”
“I did,” she says with hesitation. “I really did, Jack. Sorry. Really sorry.”
“Don’t do this again,” Jack says. He clenches his hands on the back of his neck, the front of his shirt open, revealing his hairy heart area. “Good news or bad news?”
“Bad,” I say.
“Pack your belongings,” he says. “And hurry.” He threads his fingers through his short black hair as his bushy eyebrows form a line. A furrow appears above his nose. “We’re moving house.”
A shooting pain courses through my chest and I feel like I’m dying. My whole being turns into ashes.
Seafra
It’s 10:45 am, and I’m still waiting in front of the Randell’s. My stomach growls again, the unpleasant sucking growing in strength. Fury rushes through my veins as my hands itch to knock somebody’s teeth out.
She hasn’t come.
I correct the baseball cap covering my head and the sunglasses making me look anonymous to the crowds around me, my fingers zipping up my hoody. Fuck her.
I can’t call her because she didn’t give me her fucking telephone number. All the other women I’ve met threw their phone numbers at me, but she didn’t. She didn’t even bother to call me to tell me that she’d not come to have this fucking breakfast with me.
I won’t be able to find her because I don’t know where she lives. I don’t know her full name. Actually, I know nothing about her.
No—
I know one thing, for certain.
She doesn’t want me.
Fuck her. I don’t want her either.
She’s only a good-looking chick. I will meet another. And then another. I will forget about her. Pussy is pussy. Tit is tit. They’re all the same. Fuck her.
My phone vibrates in the pocket of my jeans, and I answer the call.
“We’re leaving,” Coyote says. “Where are you, man?”
“I will be there in fifteen minutes.”
“Good. Tania is furious. We’re having a concert at nine this evening.”
I pull forward and disconnect then order a taxi. Twenty minutes later, I settle myself into the seat of our bus, behind Coyote.
“I’m warning you for the last time,” Tania growls at me. “Behave.” She drops into her seat. “It’s fucking unbelievable. Like with a bunch of kids.” She curses under her breath.
I wave a hand as though she’s an annoying fly which makes her hiss.
My routine starts.
We arrive at the venue then we have a meal and a cup of strong coffee. The people around me are moving like ants, preparing the stage and instruments, clinks, screeches and curse words forming a layer around me.
Tony is sipping his coffee. I move closer to him.
“Alright?” I say.
He nods, a wide grin crossing his face. “You look like it’s the last place on Earth you want to be in.”
It’s a nice pub in the suburbs of the city, and there will be a small audience which I’m really happy with. I open my mouth to protest, but Tony slaps me on the back, knocking the air out of my lungs, and hands me a cup of coffee.
“She got under your skin, huh?” he says.
“She didn’t. I don’t—“
“You do. My son has the same misery on his face because of a chick. Youth.” He nods several times. “Don’t envy you, boy. I prefer my wife. I really do. Go, the concert starts soon.” He shoves me towards a small room at the back of the pub.
I huff and compose myself.
Our make-up artist, Lily, takes care of my face, Martha, our fashion stylist, takes care of my clothes; Lisa, our cook, will take care of my dick after the concert.
I’m going to eradicate every tiny memory of Eavan from my head.
The tubes with cosmetics click and the hangers screech against the rail, the clothes rustle, the people around me kill me with their chattering.
I give my worst performance ever. The audience whistles their disappointment and Tania wants to kill me.
“Find another vocalist,” I say to her, walking off the stage.
Sweat trickles down my temples. Adrenaline circles in my veins. I want to get drunk. I want to fuck. I want to twist Eavan’s neck.
No—
I want to fuck her so hard that she’ll whimper. I want to fuck her every hole, wreck her, destroy her then fuck her again. I want to see her again. I want to kiss her.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tania growls. “Compose yourself. She’s not worth it. Don’t ruin your whole career because of one cunt.”
I raise my finger at her. “Don’t. Ever.”
Tania cringes into herself at the tone of my voice as Coyote and Hale shoot me dark glances.
I take off my shirt and toss it onto the floor then enter a room with two tables covered with food and drinks. I grab a sandwich and pour myself a glass of orange juice topping it up with vodka.
The sandwich finds its final rest in my stomach as a soft body presses against my back.
“Want to have some fun?” Lisa murmurs. “You’re very stressed.”
“Sure. Why not?”
I turn to her and she puts her hand on the front of my trousers then unbuttons them, exposing my cock. It’s lifeless and Lisa’s full lips form a line of disappointment.
<
br /> “We can fix it,” she says as she lowers to her knees, sweeping her auburn hair away from her face.
Surprisingly, the gesture and the hair colour cause Ruby’s face to flash through my head like an eerie reminder of something I can’t name. I kill that image with fury. Then Eavan’s eyes haunt me, but I can’t kill that image.
Lisa’s fingers close around my limp cock and her mouth touches my balls. I feel her wet tongue flicking over my crack. She licks my balls then the base of my dick, stroking it with her hand. Heat rushes to my toes and my cock grows hard.
Lisa licks my shaft up and down then swirls her tongue around the head. I gather her hair on the back of her neck and hold her head in place. She opens her mouth eagerly so I drive my cock into her hot wetness, slamming on her throat. She knows how to handle me so I fuck her mouth selfishly. We catch a rhythm and she moans softly as I thrust into her mouth deeper and deeper. The tension inside me builds rapidly, seeking relief. I want to forget that sweet mouth I kissed yesterday. I want to forget Eavan.
A white explosion carries me to my ecstasy as I moan her name. Eavan.
“What the fuck?” Lisa growls as my dick slips out of her mouth and I wrench in my whole pleasure with my own hand. “You think—“
“Get out,” I rasp.
“I’m not—“
“You are. Now, get out, you fucking bitch.”
She shakes her head, palms facing the ceiling, and rises to her feet. Anger and helplessness paint her round face.
Yeah, I can be an asshole. Eavan must have sensed it. That’s why she doesn’t want to have anything in common with me.
Maybe it’s better this way.
“Get out,” I bark.
Lisa sweeps her hand, aiming for my cheek, but I dodge it. The tears of her frustration flood her face. She storms out of the room as my glance meets Coyote’s. He offers me a bottle of beer.
“It seems like you can’t get that weird chick out of your head,” Coyote says.
“Fuck off.”
“Okay, a touchy topic.” He tilts his head to the right then to the left, rotating his arms. “Lisa doesn’t mind. She’ll sob for a moment then will be at your service again.”
Wandering Page 3
