by B. B. Hamel
“Don’t underestimate my skills.”
She sighs and stretches her legs out, putting them in my lap. Normally, with any other woman, I’d push them off. But her, I just want her to be comfortable. I can tell she’s feeling bad enough.
“Seriously, what do we do? You have to have a plan.”
“I really don’t.”
She frowns. “I don’t want this to blow up in your face.”
“Neither do I, but sometimes it happens.”
“Chase.”
I sigh and shrug. “I’m sorry, Delia. I have no answers.”
“You shouldn’t be sorry.”
We sit in the dark together, watching the other cars pass. Neither of us need to say anything, even though there’s a lot to say.
We could talk about what’s happening between us, why we keep finding ourselves in bed together. We could talk about the past, about our old friends and friendships, about what fame’s going to do to our lives. We could talk about ending this, about keeping it going, about anything
Instead, we just sit in silence, and it feels good. I don’t want to face any of that crap.
I just want Delia’s feet in my lap, the movement of the bus slowly rocking us back and forth.
The night grows darker. The shadows come closer.
Delia’s body presses tight against mine.
When I wake up, the bus isn’t moving anymore.
I’m a little groggy. I blink, the sunlight bright through the windows. It takes me a second to understand where I am.
It’s the couch in the main part of the bus. There’s a blanket on top of us, although I don’t remember putting it there.
Delia stirs, her back pressed up against me, her ass against my cock. We must’ve fallen asleep like this on the couch, spooning like teenagers. I don’t know who dropped a blanket on top of us, but I can probably guess.
I slowly sit up as Delia wakes. “Hey,” she says, smiling.
“Hey, yourself. I guess we fell asleep.”
“Looks like it.”
I get up off the couch, climbing over her. She flops onto her back and groans.
“Too early,” she complains.
I check the rest of the bus. Totally empty.
“Come on,” I say, poking me head out front. “I think we’re already at Asheville.”
“Nashville, Asheville, who cares,” she grumbles.
“Get up, lazy ass.”
I throw some clothes on and head back out front. Delia manages to sit up and sigh as I yank the blanket away.
“Hey,” she groans.
“Rise and shine.”
She curls up in a little ball on the couch. “Want to sleep.”
“You’re cute. But we gotta meet the guys, so let’s go.”
I head over to the kitchen area and start to make some coffee. The smell of it eventually gets her off the couch. She uses the bathroom and by the time she’s back, dressed in her normal clothes, we both have a nice, hot mug.
She sips hers and looks at me, head cocked. “Ready?”
“Let’s go face the world.”
She grins and we head to the front of the bus. I use the lever to open the door and she starts down the steps.
The sunlight is almost blinding as we step outside. I’m right behind her, blinking away the confusion. As she gets onto the pavement, there’s a flurry of movement.
“Chase!” the voice shouts, and I hear a camera shutter clicking.
It happens so fast. Delia is stepping down off the bus, and James bursts in front of her. She stumbles, shocked, and throws her arms out to catch herself.
James is right there to break her fall. Delia’s hands slam into his camera, knocking it back into his face. Her mug tumbles to the ground and shatters in a pool of hot coffee. James grunts and stumbles backwards as she regains her composure, momentarily torn between checking on him and picking up her broken mug.
I get off the bus a second later, getting between them.
“Fucking shit!” James screams. “My nose!”
“Oh, god,” she says. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. You just shocked me and I tripped.”
I glance back at her, frowning slightly. “It’s okay,” I say. “It’s gonna be fine. He’s okay.”
“You stupid moron,” James says. “You broke my fucking nose.” There’s blood leaking out between his fingers. Not a lot, but enough to suggest that he might actually be right.
“Let us get you to a hospital.”
“Fuck that.” He pinches his nostrils, tipping his head back.
“It was an accident.” Delia looks horrified, like she might cry and scream at any second. She goes to step toward him, but I cut her off. I don’t need him doing something stupid to make his situation worse.
“I know it was,” I say to her, putting my hand on the small of her back and steering her away.
“Hol’ on,” James says, walking toward us, waving his camera in one hand. “Don’ you jus’ run away,” he says, stilling pinching his nose.
“Sorry,” I say to him. “Contact Karl, we’ll get you squared away, I promise.”
“I’m gonna sue you!” he shouts, although it lacks the necessary weight considering his nose is pinched shut.
We hurry to the venue and a security guy lets us in the back door. As soon as we’re inside, I pull Delia’s hand and tug her aside, pulling her up against me.
“Are you okay?”
“Fuck,” she whispers. “I’m freaking out.”
“It’s okay.” I hug her tight. “It was an accident.”
“I’m so sorry, Chase.” She pulls away, looking up at me. “I screwed up again. I can’t believe it.”
“We’ve all wanted to punch James in the face.”
“I was just disoriented from the light and tired and, oh god, I hit him in the face.”
“Like I said, he deserved it.”
“Still. We should’ve helped him.”
“No way. I offered to get him to the hospital, but anything beyond that is just suicide. He’ll use anything we give him against us.”
“So, what? We just hide out from him?”
“Oh, no, there’s no hiding. I’m sure Karl will bribe him.”
She sighs, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault. Honestly. I saw it happen, he was lurking out there waiting for us, and he just scared you at the wrong time.”
She sighs and buries her face in her hands. I steer her away again, and we head through the back halls. A security guy shows us to the green room and I deposit Delia on the couch.
“I’ll find the others,” I tell her. “We’ll figure it out. Just wait here.”
She nods, face ashen white.
“I’ll figure it out,” I promise, and head off to find Karl.
Might as well get this out of the way. James isn’t the type to let anything go, let alone a bloody nose.
Fucking bastard. I know he’s fine, but he’ll play it up like Delia attacked him. This is all his fault for being a damn creep and surprising her like that.
I’m pissed that she blames herself and I’m pissed that James is such a damn stalker fuck. He’s trying to ruin my career, although I don’t understand why.
Actually, that’s not true. I know why he’s doing it.
Money and clicks. That’s all he cares about.
I won’t be like that. I care about more than just money and exposure.
I hurry down the halls toward the sound of the guys warming up. I’ll break the news to Karl, and we’ll figure it out from there.
I just hope he has a plan.
16
Delia
“You have to stay here for now.”
I stare at Chase, not sure if I should be outraged or apologetic. He steers me over to the bed and sits me down.
“Look, it’s not my decision, okay?”
“I guess Karl’s solution is to hide me away until the problem magically disappears?”
; “No,” he says, sighing. “That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it, Chase?”
He looks away and I can see the uncertainty in his eyes. After he went and talked with Karl, he immediately came back and dragged me away from the venue. He took me to this hotel, got me a nice room, and plopped me down on the bed. There was no discussion, no explanation. He would barely even look at me on the way over.
“He thinks you should just lay low for now.”
“What do you think?”
His eyes slowly come back to mine, and I see the spark flash again. “I think this whole fucking thing is a mess, but it’s far from your fault.”
“What do we do about it?”
He steps closer to me, tips my chin up toward him. I feel that thrill run down my spine as his gaze drifts down along my body. “How do you do it?” he whispers. “You’re trouble on two legs and yet I can’t seem to keep myself away.”
“I don’t know,” I manage to say before he kisses me.
His kiss is passionate as his fingers weave into my hair. I feel like I’ve blundered from one stupid thing into the next, and this whole plan has been one long failure. In the end, Chase is going to be worse off.
I know it’s my fault. I’ve been beating myself up over it. But in this moment, all that chatter in my brain, that incessant inner monologue that’s questioning everything, goes completely silent.
I don’t question this. Not even a little bit. His kiss gets more urgent, deeper, and I know what he wants.
I want it too. Actually, I need it. I need to be reminded why I’m here and why I’m not going anywhere. Right now it feels like the world is tumbling around me, but he’s the only thing keeping me grounded.
He presses me back against the bed, his body against mine. I groan softly as he bites my lower lip, pulls my hair, his tongue in my mouth.
I can’t make myself pull away. I unbuckle his belt and flip open his fly, sliding a hand down his jeans to find his cock is already half hard.
“This is what you do to me,” he whispers in my ear. “I should get back to the show.”
“Then go,” I say, slowly stroking his cock over his briefs. “I won’t be upset.”
“Liar.” He pulls my hair again, tipping my head back.
“I know you’d never leave me alone and needy like this.”
“I’m very polite. I like to give you what you want.”
“What I need,” I whisper.
His eyes flash. He kisses me again and I moan, grabbing his thick cock.
He pulls back and sits me up. I let him slide my shirt up over my head, hair spilling all around my shoulders. He kisses my neck as he unhooks my bra and palms my breasts, teasing my nipples.
He grabs me and sits down onto the bed, pulling me over and on top of him. I straddle his hips as he shimmies out of his jeans. I laugh and kiss his neck and pull his shirt off, tasting the skin on his chest, tongue tracing the black ink of his tattoos.
“I don’t want to hide you away,” he grunts, tipping my chin up to him again, looking into my eyes. “God damn, I want to show you off. Look at you.”
I sit up as he palms my breasts again. I help him get my jeans off, standing in front of him. I bend over and he slaps my ass, a sweet sting on my skin. I look over my shoulder as I turn around and he pulls me up against him, kissing my chest, my stomach, my belly button right above where my panties stop.
He pulls them down, sliding them over my ass. His big hands cup my hips as he kisses my pussy, licking his tongue along my clit.
I stumble forward onto the bed, on my hands and knees above his face. His hands grab my ass and squeeze as his tongue finds my clit and pussy, lapping and sucking and licking. I wiggle my ass, moving my hips along his tongue as he pulls me tighter against his mouth.
I gasp and my hands grab onto a pillow, holding it tight. He slides two fingers inside my pussy from behind while he licks my clit and sucks it. I toss my hair back, groaning, moaning, losing myself.
I feel him pull back suddenly and push me forward. He moves out from under me, pulling off his boxer briefs and kicking them aside.
“Stay just like that,” he says, eyes hungry. I look over my shoulder at him, my pussy dripping wet and up in the air.
“Like this?”
“Perfect” He kneels behind me, squeezes my ass, spanks me. I groan as I feel his cock tease me. “This big fucking ass is fucking perfect.”
“Chase,” I manage to moan just before he slides his massive cock deep inside of my pussy.
I didn’t expect him to fit so effortlessly. He spreads me wide but I’m so wet he simply fills me. Pleasure and pain mix in equal measure as he grabs my hair, pulling it back. I slide back down his shaft, feeling him filling me, spreading me apart, tearing me to blissful pieces.
I want him to break me down, build me up, get me off. I start to wiggle my ass again and buck backwards, riding his shaft. He holds my hair, letting me do the work at first.
“Fuck, girl,” he groans. “Riding my big cock like that. I didn’t know you knew how to shake that ass.”
“I know a lot of things.” I start to move faster, riding him, moving my hips along his thick cock. “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Show me,” he whispers, more of a command than a request.
I put my face down and start to work my ass faster. He lets me do the work, spanking me, pulling my hair. I ride his cock, moving back and forth, ass shaking along him. I love his moans, his grunts, his groans. I keep whispering his name, sweat beading my skin from the effort, the mixture of pleasure and pain, the intense loss of anything but this moment.
For me, there’s nothing outside these walls. There’s nothing outside these bodies. I look over my shoulder at him and he pulls me tight, hands on my breasts, and I feel him starting to work his hips.
He takes over. He pushes me down and fucks me, pulling one wrist behind my back.
“Not rough enough,” he grunts in my ear. “Not nearly rough enough. If you’re going to come, you need me to make it hurt, just a little bit.”
“Yes,” I gasp, the pillow against my face as his cock rides in and out of my tight pussy. “Do whatever you want to me.”
“Don’t worry. I planned on it.”
He spanks my ass again, hard this time. The sound fills my eyes along with the pain and the pleasure. I gasp and moan as he fucks me harder, thrusts deep and low. He speeds up and I watch his body, tense and muscular, in absolute control of every single little motion.
There’s nothing sexier to me than a man in total control. I buck back again riding him as he thrusts into me. He pulls my wrist and my hair, making me gasp as pain temporarily overwhelms pleasure. He releases the pressure and keeps fucking me, tipping the scales the other way.
“Oh, shit,” I groan as he pulls back, leaving me quivering. He grabs my hips, turns me onto my back.
I feel my own breasts, mindless of everything else. He spreads my legs wide, presses his cock against me, and sinks it deep inside. I don’t even know how he fits, but it doesn’t matter to me. He fucks me rough as I hold my breasts, his hands firm on my hips.
I can feel it building, the pleasure and the need. He releases my legs with one hand and sucks his thumb before using it to rub my clit in amazingly agonizing circles. I’m gasping, biting my lip, moaning, whispering his name, screaming his name. I’m lost in the pleasure he can give me, and I had no clue it was even possible.
“Go ahead, girl,” he whispers in my ear. “You want to come? Go ahead and come for me. Come on my big, fat cock.”
“Chase,” I groan. “Oh fuck.”
He rocks into me, faster and faster. He’s fucking me rough, taking my pussy, controlling it, dominating it. This is what I want, what I’ve been needing. I writhe my hips and roll myself against him, rubbing and rubbing and sweating, lost in it, so deep and lost in it.
The orgasm rips through me like fire. It starts in my hips, radiates to my back, makes my eyes dark for a
split second. Every muscle tenses as I come, twitching and groaning, aware of only the bliss of the pleasure rolling across my skin.
I come back to myself to his thrusts slowing down, his lips against my ear. “That’s right, my wife,” he whispers. “Come for me, you dirty fucking girl.”
I kiss him, desperate for his lips. I kiss him deep and slow. I feel his tongue against mine, soft and warm as he slowly starts to fuck me faster.
I want his cum. I want to taste it, feel it on my skin. I move my hips as he fucks me faster, faster. He holds my hips and sits back, looking at my body. It’s that look that I’ve been craving: like there’s nothing else in this world but me.
He fucks me fast and soon his groans get louder. I watch as he pulls back, stroking his shaft. His cum covers my breasts in spurts, thick and warm on my skin. He groans, whispers my name. “Fuck, Delia.”
I collapse back onto the pillows, smiling like a moron. He leaves for a second and comes back with a towel, cleaning me off before cleaning himself. When he’s done, he wraps his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.
“Say what you will about our marriage,” he says softly, “we are very good at that.”
“Very good,” I echo, grinning.
He kisses me softly. We stay like that, holding each other, for a while. I don’t know how long. But eventually, he has to pull away.
I watch him getting dressed while scrolling through my phone.
“Sorry to leave you here,” he says.
“It’s fine. At least it’s a nice hotel.”
“Order room service, buy a movie, whatever you want. I mean, you’re free to go anywhere, but just be aware that there’s probably press nearby.”
“Got it.”
He hesitates a second, frowning. “Are you okay?”
I shrug a little, just as the TMI homepage starts to load.
I don’t get a chance to answer him, because my ex-boyfriend from two years ago is the top post.
And he has nothing nice to say about me.
I scroll through the article, reading the trash and filth. I dated Boyd for six months and we never really got that serious, but in this article he says we were engaged, living together, all this shit.
