reputation

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  Her lips parted into a small ‘o’ before her teeth sunk into the plump flesh of her lower lip. I raised her palm to my mouth, planting a kiss in the middle of it.

  “I think it’s time to say ‘goodnight,’ Baby Blay,” I rasped, my eyes locked with hers, neither of us willing to break to look at the camera that was streaming us.

  “T-thanks for hanging out, everyone,” she said shakily, visibly less composed for the whole world to see.

  “See you again tomorrow night, New York!” I added with a half-smile and then clicked off the stream without even looking at the phone. Tomorrow she could go back and watch how her fans had gone nuts to see such a personal glimpse into her life.

  Blake stared at me, her eyes heavy with desire. I knew she felt mine. Hell, she could have been the princess with ten mattresses shoved between her and my dick and she still could have felt the damn thing it was so hard, throbbing right in the crevice of her ass.

  Cue every lame-ass pun about the (Pop) Princess and my Penis.

  This was what tempted her to believe that what was between us was real; I couldn’t hide this.

  A growl rumbled through me and I broke eye contact. I was going to be that guy if she didn’t leave—I was going to be the best-friend’s-sister-fucking asshole. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—be that guy.

  Clinging to the one last rational thread present in my brain, I forced the hoarse words from my mouth. “Alright, I think we’ve checked all the boxes that we are supposed to tonight.” I felt her flinch. “Maybe it’s best if you get going, Blake. It’s been a long day.”

  She turned further in my lap, rubbing her ass all along my arousal in the process. I grit my teeth to stop myself from coming—that’s how bad denying myself had been lately.

  “No, Zach…” Boldly placing her hand on my chest, right over my pounding heart, she stared at me with those brilliant blues that twinkled with heady anticipation. I watched as her head slowly drifted down to mine and she said softly, “I’m tired of this. I think it’s best if we both stay.”

  I knew I made these same mistakes every time. Bridges were burning, but I never learned. It was moments like this, when those bridges disappeared for a split second, that I knew I did one thing right.

  “I think it’s best if we both stay.”

  My breaths were whispers in the air. Silent pleas to not push me away again. Warm entreaties for more of what grounded me and yet made me feel like I could fly.

  I was being reckless again. Fearless. Practice makes perfect.

  I could feel that he wanted me. I could feel his labored breathing against my back, the pounding of his heart against my hand, and the hard ridge of his erection underneath me.

  My heart insisted that it had to mean something.

  The truth was that could mean nothing.

  But my mind was skilled at forgetting to remind me that he was a bad idea.

  “Blay…” he said with a strangled voice. “You need to go.”

  I heard the sound of my voice, asking him again, “Please, stay.” Breathing in the spicy and manly scent of him, the next thing I did was reckless, too—with a large dash of stupid. I smiled as my mouth drifted towards those lips that would kiss me and then curse me in the very next second. Wildest dreams. Gently, I pressed mine against the tight seam of his, whimpering slightly when he remained unmoving against me.

  “Just one taste…” And the blurred, distant line was crossed.

  A shudder rippled through him before his hands speared through my hair, tilting my head and claiming my mouth like the night on the beach. There was no one watching here. There was only ever us.

  I melted into him as his tongue drove into my mouth, searching for mine. The moment they connected—sparks flew. Without breaking contact, I spun to straddle him. My hands roamed everywhere, desperate to touch any part of him. The hands that held my head punishingly under his mouth now slid down to my ass, tugging up my dress to dig into the stocking-covered flesh of my ass and pull me tight against him. My panties were damp; they had been for a little while. This made them slip-n-slide soaking.

  I rolled my hips against his, gasping against his lips as stars danced through me. Zach growled and bit into my lower lip, tugging it into his mouth. The painful pleasure spurred me on as I chased the sensation of me rubbing against him—feeling the hard ridge of his dick with every move. My underwear was pushed to the side.

  “You just can’t let this go.” His voice was deep and husky, unavoidable frustration dripping from every word and every heavy breath. But he didn’t stop, grinding his hips up against my core. “I’m not fucking you, Blake baby,” he warned, his lips finding my neck and pressing a hard kiss to the flesh that rippled with the beat of my heart before tacking on, “Not tonight.”

  “I want you inside of me,” I whispered, my voice shaking with a need both so powerful it would scare me later and so essential that speaking it was more necessary than breathing. He already seemed to be a part of everything else about me; this was all that was left.

  My slit opened, the pressure now directly on my clit, driving me insane.

  “Not here. Not now,” he growled back, taking my mouth with punishing force for asking. “But soon.” The promise a strangled afterthought as he kissed me deeply.

  My eyes rolled back, barely hearing him as lust sizzled like oil on a flame—burning red.

  I felt it building inside of me, my hips rocking frantically against his as my desire soaked through my underwear and onto his jeans. My fingers clutched into his shirt, feeling my orgasm nearing.

  “Fuck,” he swore as he lifted me up, carrying me over to the bed and depositing me abruptly on the mattress. Hard eyes pinned me down as he bit out, “Don’t move. Otherwise I’ll do something that will ruin everything.”

  My mouth fell open in shock, gasping as my climax screamed and pounded against the door that had been slammed in its face, as he dropped to his knees.

  He looked tortured. He was always demanding and sure. The only thing that he was sure of now was that he couldn’t stop this any longer.

  Need sparked around him like my star had struck him like a comet, splitting him open and releasing glowing, hot lust.

  “Pull your dress up.” His throat bobbed as I complied.

  I tried to keep my head tilted up as my shaking fingers tugged the tight fabric up to my hips, revealing my black boy shorts.

  Seconds later, I was bare and Zach was staring between my legs with a possessive hunger that should have been frightening. The equal mix of embarrassment and excitement had my body humming with anticipation.

  “You’re so damn beautiful like this, Blakebaby,” he rasped as his eyes drank me in. “Stripped bare, letting me see you without all the armor for the cameras. When you let me see the real you and not just the version the world gets to see, there’s nothing I could deny you… there’s nothing that could keep me from you.”

  “Zach!” I inhaled his name harshly, hands gripping into the comforter as the very tip of his finger just brushed over my folds and came away coated with my desire.

  Tilting my head up again, I sank into those heady amber eyes.

  “I shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered even as he opened his mouth and licked my juices from his finger with a groan. Amber turned molten as his hands fell to grip my thighs and force them wide enough for his shoulders. “God, I shouldn’t fucking be doing this,” he repeated the words against my inner thigh, my sex clenching as I felt his lips move over my skin.

  My hips shot off the bed when his teeth sunk into my flesh, biting into me so close to where I needed him.

  I felt the shudder wrack his body. I felt his breath on my aching sex. I felt every organ in my body stop working as his tongue slid over my slit like it was melting ice cream and he’s trying to catch every last creamy drop.

  “Jesus Christ, Blake… you taste so fucking… I never imagined…”

  I wanted to scream but nothing was working anymore except the parts that he t
ouched.

  “I wonder if these lips will sing just as beautifully for me.” More desire rushed from my sex. I felt myself clenching fruitlessly, needing his touch.

  Everything went black and then white when his mouth closed over my core. Slow. Firm. Demanding. He kissed and licked every inch of me like I was the instrument and his mouth was the master. From my entrance to my clit, his lips explored every place that made my body sizzle and squirm. His tongue seared him into one more piece of me that would end up scarred with his name.

  Like he’d designed my body and knew just how to build it up and make it fall apart, he sucked hard on my clit and I cried out, my sex clenching forcefully as cum rushed out begging for the orgasm promised by his beautifully talented lips.

  And I didn’t—couldn’t—hold back. My nails scored over and into his back before they dug into his scalp, holding him tighter against me like I was trying to suffocate him between my thighs. He didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he growled and ate at me even deeper, his finger joining his tongue.

  I need this release like I need him. Unapologetically. Unstoppably.

  Pulling on my swollen clit, his finger curled deep inside me and I was done. I screamed his name, my fingers yanking on his hair as my orgasm ripped through me.

  My body had sung for him and he kept his mouth softly covering me until the melody of trembles and moans faded softly into partially sated silence.

  “I’ve imagined a lot of things, Blake, but not this. I never imagined you’d taste so good,” I said with a low voice, still staring at the mind-numbing, cock-throbbing picture in front of me. “Or that you’d come so beautifully.”

  Blake. In my bed. Dress hiked to her waist. Her slick and shaved forbidden pussy laid bare before me, pink and dripping with spit and sex.

  I licked my lips on the verge of giving in to losing myself in that all-American honey between her thighs.

  Pushing herself up onto her elbows, her glazed eyes met mine and I knew she wanted me to do more than taste her again. But I couldn’t. God, I couldn’t do that to Ash.

  My tongue had just broken through every last bro-code that existed. Hell, every last fiber of decency and control and respect that I’d prided myself on. Gone.

  And I would do it all over again. Just for that taste of the apple in the Garden of Blake.

  I stood swiftly, forcing myself a step away from the bed and stumbling in the process.

  What had I done?

  She sat up, righting her clothing in awkward embarrassment. I wanted to tell her to stop. I wanted to tell her to never be embarrassed in front of me. I wanted to tell her to never hide from me. I wanted to slowly strip every inch of fabric off of her until there was nothing left but the softest skin I’d ever tasted and then I wanted to spend more hours than existed in the day exploring every inch of the body of the woman whose soul I’d known for a long time.

  But I couldn’t have what I wanted.

  So, I didn’t move because even too jarring of a breath could incite me to do all the things that I shouldn’t.

  “I’m sorry,” I rasped like it was any sort of excuse for how I was behaving. “Fuck, Blay, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize.” Her words were low and strained, adding with an edge, “And don’t tell me that it was a mistake again.” I glimpsed the hurt that crackled like lightning in her eyes before she ducked her head and walked around me.

  “Blake,” I groaned, wincing as I turned towards her, my jeans digging into my angry cock that was cursing every inch of my self-restraint.

  “Don’t.” She shook her head. “Just. Don’t.”

  I wished I could pretend that I didn’t hear the tremble in her voice.

  Grabbing her phone and purse from the table, she spun on me, her eyes burning with angry indignation.

  “What is the point of all this, Zach?” she demanded. I couldn’t even answer before she blurted out, “No. You know what? I don’t want to know. I was the one who insisted I stay tonight and that’s my fault. You told me to go… I should have listened. Typical, right?” The question punctuated with a harsh laugh. “I was always so bad at listening to you. You’d think after all the scars, I would have learned by now.”

  I heard the hurt echoing in the hollowness in her voice, like the thought just dawned on her that she only had herself to blame when this was really my fault. After all this time, I’d only gotten worse at resisting her—and my desire for her had only grown stronger.

  “All I know is that I c-can’t do this anymore. There was a plan. A contract. And we need to stick to it… I need to stick to that.”

  Resignation.

  The last thing I ever expected to hear from Blake Tyler, the girl who’d done everything and anything in her power to do what she wanted—to get what she wanted.

  Fearless.

  My hands flexed at my sides. I wanted to tell her to keep fighting—that somewhere there would be a way for this to be ok. I didn’t want to stick to the fucking plan. I didn’t want to stick to my principles. I didn’t want to stick to anything. But that was who I was—who I was raised to be. And I wasn’t going to take advantage of the fact that I was wooing a girl who was already prone to falling, regardless of how real it felt for me.

  And I wasn’t going to break my promise to her brother.

  Or break it any further, at least.

  “You’re right,” I agreed with a tight nod even though the words felt like the worst betrayal I’d ever committed. “I will do better,” I swore quietly.

  For her sake and mine, I better.

  Otherwise, the only thing I’d be breaking was her heart—if I hadn’t already.

  The silence was a deafening truce between us.

  “See you tomorrow.” She walked to the door, pausing to tip her head slightly back over her shoulder, adding, “On stage.”

  I remained frozen in place until the door clicked shut behind her. Dropping to my knees where I’d just been, I pounded my fist into the bed.

  Fuck. This. Shit. Fuck it.

  Closing my eyes, I refused to let her go. I saw her lying here, naked and open for me, as I fumbled to unzip the pair of jeans that I was going to fucking burn after tonight. Pulling out my demanding erection, I pumped my fist, still smelling her desire… tasting her sweetness…

  I remembered the way her needy off-limits pussy clenched around my finger as she exploded under my tongue, gushing her desire into my mouth. With a strangled grunt, I pulled my undershirt up over the head of my dick just as I came.

  “Fuck,” My cum soaked through my shirt; it was release but it wasn’t enough.

  I needed to resist her. At all costs. Even if it meant I needed to be put in a fucking straightjacket around her.

  Stripping down, I made my way into the bathroom and flipped on the shower.

  Just a few more weeks… I stepped into the warm stream, closing my eyes, and running the water through my hair

  Her heartbroken face flashed in front of me.

  You might be able to resist her body, my traitorous body taunted, but you won’t be able to resist her heart.

  Track 12: Star-crossed

  “I’d like to think our love was written in the stars.

  No matter what happened, never a shadow of a doubt.

  Now I know that whatever was written, whatever was felt.

  Could have been. Should have been. Now crossed out.”

  GROANING, I PULLED MYSELF FROM bed as I heard Taylor enter my bedroom. She’d let herself into my suite a half an hour ago to wake me up, leaving me to lie lazily in the plush bed, my muscles sore and stiff from yesterday—my heart used and bruised from this entire tour.

  I couldn’t be mad at Zach. Ok, I could. But what was the point? I’d asked for the letdown. In fact, I think at some moments during that evening (the thought of which still making my body warm and needy) I even begged.

  If crazy was doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result, then torture is doing the same thing ov
er and over again knowing things will never change.

  Maybe it wasn’t just torture. Maybe it was just pure insanity.

  Either way, I’d numbly come to accept that night that no matter how far I pushed him, he would never fall. He might trip. He might stumble. But his loyalty and steadfast determination was a foundation buried so far beneath the surface that I’d sooner dig to China than be able to get through it.

  According to Google, I figured I was past the ‘anger’ stage of grief and steadily moving into bargaining. Mostly because I swore to myself… to Taylor… to God… that this wasn’t going to happen again. I swore that I would listen to my head and finish the tour the way I was supposed to just as long as my heart wasn’t broken anymore. And it was a deal.

  So, when we’d landed yesterday in Austin and had most of the morning to give the world a ‘show’ before the concert began, I went into the prospect with a calm resignation to be kind and not careless. And because it was Texas, I suggested that we go for a trail ride. (Not because I’d been craving something that reminded me of the carriage ride in New York.)

  Taylor researched a local horseback riding barn that was just outside of the city—Maverick Trail Rides. Zach picked up our rental—a Jeep Wrangler—and we’d been off to our latest adventure. Tay made sure to post a photo to my Instagram when we landed, tagging the barn we were headed to—a one-hundred-percent guarantee for a full parking lot of paparazzi when we arrived.

  Thankfully, none of them were brave enough to actually follow us on horseback. Instead, they pulled out fancy lenses that looked like they could have captured my face if I’d decided to go for a hike on the moon and followed us at a distance.

  The day was beautiful. Our guide, Danny, was really funny and the kind of nice that made light of the fact that she had a superstar on one of her horses—even taking us on detours when we ended up on roads that were littered with those same cars from the parking lot. I smiled and thanked her even though avoiding the cameras defeated the official purpose of why we were there. But I couldn’t tell her that.