by Zoey Derrick
I try and change the subject with Addison. “How’d you know about the article?”
She chuckles and comes to stand next to the bunk. “Sam,” she says simply.
“Who’s Sam?” I ask when she doesn’t continue.
Addison’s smile falls, indicating that I’m only going to get a partial truth on this story. “Let’s just say she’s a little infatuated with Dex. She met him back in San Diego…”
I put my hand up to silence her and raise an eyebrow. “Do I really want to know more?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, probably not.”
“Do I need to be worried about this Sam person?” I ask her, wondering if it’s going to turn into another Phoenix incident.
“Nope, I’ve got her under control.” She winks and is right back to her lighter self.
“How are you doing?” I ask her.
“Aside from being tired, I’m great. You?”
I smile widely at her. “Never better.”
My statement to Addison wasn’t entirely true. In reality, I feel like the rug has been ripped out from under me. See that article was exactly what I hoped I’d never see, but it was stupid of me to be naive enough to think it would never come out publicly.
The idea of being Dex’s girlfriend is a little scary, let alone the fact that he proposed to me last night before the show. I want to roll my eyes thinking about it. But I can see how the words slipped from his lips. I saved him from doing something extremely stupid so he saw me as his light. Though at this time, I’m not entirely sure how I feel about being that person. Yes, I want to be with Dex, I know deep down that he’s the one man that has captured me in his grasp, faster, harder and deeper than any man before, but marriage, now?
I let the thought fall away when I receive an email from Cami regarding Dex and I making headlines. Cami, despite her cool exterior to clients, is a soft, warm romantic at heart. She wants to know whether or not this is a good thing. Yeah, Cami, it is.
Though the headline and the pictures bother me. I’ve never used social media on a personal level. I’ve handled a lot of Cami’s stuff from time to time so I’m not unfamiliar with it, but I’ve spent the last years of my life hiding from my family. As far as they’re concerned, I’m lost somewhere in the great expanse of the world, or dead. I like it that way. But now, here I am, making headlines with a rock god. Yeah, that will light a fire under their asses if they ever see it.
Then Michael pops into my mind, and Jesus, this is the last thing I need him to see. It would likely be enough to send him off the deep end and I know he’s going to see it. Which means, he’s going to know where I am, or at least where I was.
I try to shake off the worries by doing some tweeting for Addison and the band. Something she’d asked me to do once in a while and I finish with my emails just before Dex comes back into the room.
“Hi gorgeous,” he says with a sweet smile on his face.
“Hi.”
“What’s wrong?” he asks immediately, sensing my distress, something that over the last couple of days I’ve noticed him being able to do with ease.
“We’re in the papers.”
He shrugs, “Good.”
“Not good,” I tell him. His eyes meet mine, wide and concerned.
“Why not good?”
Then I remember that I never got around to telling him about the Michael incident with my apartment while we were in New York.
“Because I have a psycho ex-boyfriend.”
He raises an eyebrow questioningly at me. “Care to explain?”
I purse my lips. “Not really.”
He scowls at me. “That’s not how this works, glowbug…”
I raise an eyebrow back at him. “Glowbug?”
He shrugs and I roll my eyes. The nonverbal communication in facial features continues for a moment or two until I start laughing. He smiles at the sound and comes up to the bunk, slides between my legs and wraps his arms around my waist. I close my laptop and set it aside as his head rests against my thigh.
I start to run my fingers through his hair and I swear to god, he starts purring. His arms tighten around me.
“Right before Cami decided to send me here,” I start to tell him, “I was out with a friend of mine when Cami called me into work. As I was leaving the club, I ran smack into Michael. The conversation turned to confrontation and I ran away quickly. Then, when we were in New York, before the first concert, I received a call from Michael. He was pissed and demanding that I answer my door. Said that ‘we needed to talk’ and that he wasn’t leaving until I came to the door.” I take a deep breath, “He started to get aggressive with me on the phone and Rusty stepped in. He called a friend of his with the LAPD and they went to the house and arrested him. After that, my friend Erica was kind enough to go to my apartment and grab some of the more important things and move them out while Michael was in jail. He’s out now, I haven’t heard anything from him and Erica is checking on my apartment regularly while I’m away.”
His arms tighten around me a little more, protective like, and my heart warms. “Why’d you guys break up?” His voice is muffled because of his arm.
“I caught him screwing some chick in my bed, in my apartment.”
His head pops up, his eyes meet mine and they’re worried. “So what the hell does he want to talk about?”
I shrug. “Beats me. We’ve been broken up for more than six months. My guess is that he’s run out of bimbos and wants me back.”
“Do you want…” Before he can finish his sentence I shake my head.
“No way in hell.” I smile at him, showing him my happiness and contentment to be right here with him and he lowers his head back to my thigh.
We don’t talk, but we stay like that for a few minutes more before he climbs up onto the bunk with me and he lays me down. Wrapping his arms tightly around me, holding me to him. I can feel his erection pressing into my backside, but he never acts on it, and that’s okay. Honestly, I’ve never felt so warm and protected as I do right now.
“We’re going out after the show. Are you coming along?” I ask Raine as I head into my dressing room, dripping wet from finishing our set.
“Sure.” I lean down and kiss her forehead.
“I’m going to go shower then I’ll be in the greenroom.”
She wiggles her eyebrows at me. “Want some company?” she asks softly.
I can’t say no to her when she’s cute like this, and I don’t verbally answer her. I simply slide my fingers between hers and bring her toward the door. I can sense her excitement as I open the door and usher her in.
Despite my sweaty, stinky nastiness, she lets go of my hand and pushes me back against the door. She reaches up on her toes and I raise my head and smirk. She pouts. “What do you want, glowbug?”
“Your lips, dammit,” she huffs, but doesn’t deflate.
“Oh really? And just what do you think you’re going to do with my lips?”
I feel her hands slide up under my shirt, along my stomach, toward my chest and her hands are warm and soft against my sweaty, cooling skin. “I’m going to kiss them.”
She continues pushing my shirt up toward my head, indicating that she wants to remove it from me and I’m tempted to tease her a little longer. What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment and torture apparently. I grab her wrists through my shirt, stilling her hands and she pouts prettily at me. The look makes me smile wide. Once I know she isn’t going to move her hands, I remove mine and take her face between my palms and tilt her head in my direction. Her breathing falters at my touch and there is that now familiar jolt that passes between us. Her mouth falls slack as I tip her head back further. “I don’t deserve you,” I breathe as I claim her mouth with mine.
Fire, desire and lust ignite in my veins. This is what I was trying to hold onto for just a little longer. Letting my need for her grow into a burning flame that I can’t extinguish without her touch. Her lips are soft, her tongue is hard and pressing
into me with desperation. The same desperation I’m feeling for her.
She claimed me for her own. She’s doing all she can to remind me that I do actually deserve her, which I still don’t see. I may never see it, but I decided in D.C., when she pulled me from taking steps toward destruction, that she was what I needed, that she was the light, the sunshine, that would pull me out of the tunnel I lived in.
My breathing stops and my head starts to spin. I pull back from her lips, desperate to catch my breath and I bring our foreheads together. “What are you doing to me?” I breathe out.
“I could ask you the same thing,” she whispers softly as we both work to slow our breathing down.
“Come,” I command her and bring her with me toward the bathroom inside the dressing room. Somehow, I always seem to get the nicest room. Probably because I am usually the only one who requires a shower after the show. This facility is by far the best we’ve been in with a large glass enclosed shower and I have visions of Raine pressed against the glass while I take her from behind.
Instead of me taking control, a shiver of excitement runs up my spine when she reaches into the shower to turn on the water. She tests it a few times, determining that the temperature is right, so I start to pull off my t-shirt.
Before I can remove it, her hands stop me and she takes over. Stripping me of my shirt before she falls to her knees to untie my boots. She helps me shed them, and then she focuses her attention on the buttons of my jeans. I watch as her tongue darts out between her lips as she takes in the bulge before her eyes. “It’s all for you, glowbug.”
Don’t ask me where the hell the nickname came from. Maybe it is my way of reminding her that the light she brings to my life is strong and I can’t resist her. Or maybe it is just my imagination coming up with the easiest nickname. But it fits her and she’s smiled every time I’ve used it.
She makes quick work of my buttons, ripping them open, exposing the base of my shaft. She wastes no time as I watch her tongue gently stroke along the shaft as she works to lower my jeans from my waist. She’s smiling as my cock pops free and she nuzzles against it. “Fuck,” I groan when she wraps both her hands around the shaft of my now rock hard cock and begins to stroke both hands up and down my length.
Her eyes look up at me through her lashes and the look is so unbelievably fucking sexy that I nearly explode right there. “Suck it, please god, suck my cock.” I practically beg her and she smiles a wicked little grin at me.
I watch as her tongue dances and teases around the head of my cock while her hands continue to stroke me up and down. She rubs the head of my dick around her mouth, leaving a warm trail around the head. I take her head in my hands, allowing my fingers to slide into her hair. I keep going, pulling her hair into a ponytail with one hand and I hang on tight, pulling her head back slightly as her tongue takes a fat wet swipe along the underside of the mushroom head. “Suck it,” I command, gripping her hair tighter.
“Yes, Sir,” she moans as she wraps her lips around the head of my dick and I shiver. Coherent thought disappears into her mouth.
“Jesus, fuck,” I groan out as I start to thrust my hips in time with the strokes of her hands, sliding further and further into her mouth with each pass. Her tongue is heaven and hell rolling hot and wet across my shaft.
Then I can feel the back of her throat and I try to pull back but she holds hard and steady, pulling me back into her mouth. She moans again when my cock touches the back of her throat and the vibrations are enough to cause my eyes to roll into the back of my head. I look down at her after I’ve recovered and she is begging me with her eyes. “You want me to fuck your mouth, pet?” I ask her and she shivers, groans and nods all at the same time. “Fuck.”
I grip her ponytail tighter in my hand and I cup her face with my free hand. She pulls her hands back and opens her mouth wide, giving me plenty of room to maneuver in and out of her mouth. I start to move, slowly at first, testing the waters with her. I’ve never fucked her mouth like this before and though I am desperate to do so, I don’t want to push it beyond the limits of what she’s capable of.
After a few more pumps I watch as her hands go to rest on her thighs and her eyes glaze over, full of lust. “Do I need to stop?” I ask, afraid that I’ve pushed her to the point that she’s checked out on me. She shakes her head no as best as she can with my cock in her mouth. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I tell her as I continue sliding into her mouth. Her tongue begins to dance along my shaft and she starts to moan. “Show me your tits, baby girl.”
She quickly complies, lifting her shirt and lowering her bra, bringing out her beautiful tits for me to look at. “Play with your nipples,” I command her and she complies quickly, rubbing her nipples between her fingers and moaning around my cock. “Jesus fuck, I’m gonna come,” I groan and she tugs on her nipples, moaning louder. I feel her head start to push forward and back as I fuck her mouth. She’s eager and it takes me only another few strokes and I explode, the orgasm rocking through me and I buck into her mouth as spurts of come slide down her throat and she moans when she pulls harder on her nipples.
As I come down from my orgasm, I release her hair and extract myself from her mouth. I watch as she adjusts her bra and then lowers her shirt. I’m even more confused when she helps me remove my jeans. “Shower, bubba,” she tells me as she steps out of the way for me to pass. I reach for the hem of her t-shirt and she stops me.
“What’s wrong?”
She smiles. “Nothing is wrong. You need to shower and get dressed.”
“But I want you to join me,” I tell her.
“And mess up my hair and makeup?” She snorts a laugh that is really infectious and I smile too. She points toward the shower with her head.
“What about you?” I press into her, lifting her chin with my hand so she can look at me, and with my other hand I try to slide it down her pants, into her panties and against her clit. I get about halfway there when her hand wraps around my wrist.
“I’ll get mine,” she says, “but you have to get moving.” She winks at me and manages to untangle herself and leave the bathroom before I can protest.
I’m pretty sure you’re wondering why I just walked away. The answer is simple; I wanted to reward him for a night well done. Among other things, but in reality, it was the time. He didn’t have it. He needs to be in the greenroom, especially if the guys want to go out tonight. I knew that if I stayed in there, I’d have gotten in the shower, he would have given me the best orgasm I could possibly hope for and I would be left to the dressing room to reapply makeup and redo my hair, letting everyone know that we got it on in the dressing room. Okay, not that I mind, or give a shit, but one thing I’ve noticed is that I don’t see Addison changing clothes and redoing makeup after a concert. Now on the bus, that is a whole other story to tell. Sheesh, those three certainly cannot get enough of each other. As I watch them now, I can see just how much love flows between them. The way that Kyle practically dotes on Addison and the way that Talon loves on both of them any chance he can get.
I’m having a hard enough time handling Dex, I can’t imagine two of him. But then again, Dex is…well, he’s amazing.
The concert tonight in Greensboro was a huge success. They played three songs over two encores because the fans demanded it of them. That demand is both a blessing and a curse as far as Dex is concerned. He works so hard while he’s on stage. It’s amazing to me that he doesn’t just climb onto the bus and pass out after his shows. Though I imagine, for him, it’s an adrenaline rush and a high unlike anything else he’s experienced, including drugs.
After about twenty minutes of the doors being open into the greenroom to greet fans, Dex saunters in; a sad smirk on his face. I can tell he’s happy but yet something is bothering him. I’m disappointed, though I have no reason to be, when he heads straight toward the couch where Mouse and Peacock are sitting instead of coming over to me. I watch from the corner of the room as one chick after another comes
up to him and the guys. I notice more than a few of them are overly flirty with Dex and sometimes, he is too. I want to scream in frustration at him, but I bury my feelings about it as best as I can.
Yes, we’re fucking. Yes, we’re sharing the same little room on the bus, but with the exception of his slip of the tongue and his little marriage proposal, we’ve yet to honestly commit to one another. At least we haven’t spoken the commitment out loud.
I close my eyes and roll them. Jesus, Raine, you’re a fucking idiot. I scold myself internally. Why do you always do this to yourself? You fucking give people an out, though they shouldn’t have one. Just because he hasn’t ‘asked’ you to be his ‘girlfriend’, I’m pretty sure you’ve committed yourself to him and him to you. I continue to beat myself up internally. Trying to talk myself down from the frenzy I’ve managed to get myself into. But the images of New York, of him wanting me one minute and then going back to having some harpy on his lap are hard to erase.
I sneak out of the room. I need to clear my brain, give myself a minute to think, and I can’t do that with all the talking and noise that’s going on in the room.
I manage to slip past everyone and right out the back door with a nod to Troy as he’s standing guard at the door. When I exit the back door, the bus is only about twenty yards away and I’m desperate to get to it and into my little room before I completely break down.
“Jesus can still save you.” I hear a male voice come from behind me and I freeze. “Jesus is ready to take you back, Lorraine.”
My blood freezes in my veins and my body begins to shake. There are only three people on this god forsaken planet that call me Lorraine.
“He wants to accept you back into the fold of his arms and his worship. Come back to him and you shall be saved.”
The voice is too high, too young, too…
I finally manage to get my feet working once again and though I want to run for the safety of Leroy and the bus, I can’t. I finally manage to turn myself around.
