by Flite, Nora
What just happened?
Did I imagine all of that?
With my ear to the tub, I heard the metallic echoes of people speaking in the distance. The familiar treble of Drezden, the baritone of Porter. I listened for some time, lying still like moving would make it all real.
He was going to... to what? Recalling the lean man straddling me, I touched my fingers to my chest. The places he'd held me felt the same. That frustrated me, for I knew I had changed somehow.
Trailing my hand down my stomach, I scratched the junction of my thighs where his cock had been rubbing through his jeans. Blushing at the reality, I gingerly sat up.
I found my shirt, tugging it over my head uncaringly. The mirror showed my pink face, my messy hair. Touching my lips, I remembered how close Drezden had come to... To what? Kissing me? Stop it, don't be stupid. But was it stupid? He'd sat on me, forced me down, talked about treating me like I was as experienced as him.
My whole neck burned as an idea occurred to me. How many women has he been with? He's twenty-one, it could be a lot... Was that what he meant? Thinking of the famous singer as being so free with his sexual desires this whole time made me numb.
I'd never heard of Drezden being the sort of guy who prowled for pussy after shows. Could someone hide something like that?
And what about me, I asked myself, squinting at the mirror. I always thought I knew who I was. Now, I'm not so sure. My body and my mind don't seem to agree.
Cracking the door, I peered into the hall. The voices were still speaking, a friendly murmur towards the front of the bus. On unsteady legs, I darted out of the bathroom and dove through the curtain of the room I'd chosen.
As alone as I could be in the bus, I dropped heavily onto my bed. Hands coiled in my hair, chin falling to my collar bone.
When I'd been told that morning that I'd be joining Four and a Half Headstones, I was sure it would be the biggest change in my life.
Now, with the musky flavor of Drezden Halifax in my nose... the imprint of how his hands had felt on my naked skin...
I was sure I'd changed even more.
Chapter Six.
Drezden
I'm such a fucking idiot.
Though I smiled and nodded, leaned on the bus seat so casually and listened to Porter ramble, my mind was elsewhere. It rested in a porcelain tub, trapped by the amazingly stupid decisions I'd made.
I really am a giant fucking idiot, I thought, watching Porter grin and pretending to chuckle at what he'd said. How could I have let it go so far? Lola had been challenging me in the bathroom. She'd tried to leave, only to send us both tripping into that god damn tub.
Gently I touched the tender spot on my temple. I hoped it didn't bruise.
“Hey, hello?” Porter leaned in, waving his hand at me. “You alright Drez? You look out of it.”
You have no idea. But I just gave him an apologetic frown. “Sorry, been a long day.” I felt like I'd lived a whole year in Lola's presence. One long, torturous year. How could I wake up and do it all again?
“You're right, it's been stretching.” Standing with a yawn, he cracked his back with loud pops. “I might just go hit the sack, myself. You seen Lola at all?” I tensed and held my breath. “She left, and I didn't see her when I was outside with Colt.”
Thinking of Lola's nearly exposed breasts, I balled my fists in my lap. “She came back a while ago. Think she's sleeping already.”
Porter's forehead ran with wrinkles. “Huh. Alright then. She's probably more exhausted than all of us. It's been a crazy day for her.”
My chin barely moved as I nodded. Porter was more right than he even knew. It turned a knife in me, guilt flooding my senses. Lola had experienced a day full of things she never imagined, and for some of those, I was to blame.
Glancing out the window, I squinted through the tinted glass. The guards were still there, the party only beginning to die down. I spotted the glow of tin-can fires and wondered if the police would swing by to force the crowd to disburse.
The walk to my small room was short. I'd picked the bed furthest down the hall, closest to the practice room. Shoving aside the heavy, charcoal curtain, I let myself drop onto my mattress.
It was dark, I'd covered the small window in a slice of thick foam. My insomnia was bad enough as is, I hated the idea of the sun seeping through the glass before I was ready to wake up.
Sliding my shirt over my head, I dropped it carelessly. My belt would have come next. Instead, touching the cold metal, the recollection of a certain yielding body beneath me in the tub came to life.
In spite of myself, I sucked air through my teeth. Lola had squirmed under me, so warm and tender and soft all at once. Mostly soft, I mused. The hard-on I'd sported could have bruised me through my jeans.
At the time, when I'd found myself strewn across her, I'd stopped thinking about all the reasons I'd made to stay away. Her chest had thrummed against mine, heart stampeding. Feeling her, seeing her reactions and knowing I had to be the cause, I'd just... I'd started to give in.
Lola had made it too easy. Grinding under me, her blue eyes so wide and unsure, I'd sensed her hunger as she'd certainly felt mine.
I'd wanted to shove her down, crush my mouth on her until she either begged me to keep going or pleaded with me to stop. Which one did I want from her? And would I have obeyed if it wasn't the answer I craved?
Adjusting my own rising erection, I gave my head a shake. That porcelain world had been so perfect. It had also tempted me in a way that left me feeling empty.
Doomed.
I told myself to stay away from her. The danger of chasing Lola was obvious—is obvious! Scowling, I shoved my jeans down to my ankles. The engorged bulge in my boxers was a constant reminder that what I thought was rational didn't exactly agree with the rest of me.
Laying back on my bed, I stared at the ceiling. There would be no key there to crack my puzzle. Still, I stared, unblinking. I wondered earlier if the kid was into me or not. My cock gave a sympathetic throb. I guess I know, now. Unless that reaction was all fear or something. I rolled my eyes at myself. Even now, I was searching for excuses to avoid pursuing Lola.
The way she touched me when she thought I was hurt... and the way she clung to me when I saved her from the guards... It should have been insignificant. Instead, everything was serving to imprint my desire to get closer to Lola Cooper.
Shutting my eyes, I recalled again how she had trouble meeting my gaze. How she'd turned so red, writhing beneath me, my erection grinding on her belly.
Fuck, I'd wanted to kiss her so bad. Reaching up, I dragged my finger tips over my lips. Why am I so weak for her? If Porter hadn't shown up, scaring the shit out of me, I don't think I would have stopped. I would've given in, dropped the walls and taken a bite out of Lola Cooper.
My fingers crushed against my mouth violently. I'm awful, a fucking monster. Just because she might have been into me, I would have risked ruining it all by taking what I wanted from her faster than she was prepared for.
The girl still had trouble looking me in the eye. If I'd let myself give in and had my way with Lola, she'd probably hate me.
She'd probably quit the band.
My muscles turned to lead at the idea. I was so selfish. Inhaling deeply, I thought I could still smell her in my nose.
So god damn selfish.
Tracing my stomach, the crevices of abdominals, I cupped the shape of my raging hard-on. Fine, I'm selfish. I'm greedy and terrible and all I want to do is taste Lola, to hear her gasp and fucking scream because of me.
Squeezing the head of my cock through my boxers, I moaned. It was true. All of it was true. I was horrified of getting close, giving in to my desires for the blue-eyed woman, because of the risk. Not the risk of the band, though that was real. Not the risk of Lola's feelings, though that was still an issue. No, I was terrified because if I let myself down this path, there was no stopping.
I couldn't handle the possibility of putting down m
y barriers if it meant she wasn't even a potential prize. And I thought, if I just kept things professional, it would be fine. I could control myself.
When she'd yanked me down into the tub, everything had changed.
A thick growl rose in my throat. Dipping my hand under the cloth, I traced the hot skin of my prick. It was painfully erect, as tense and strained as my mind was.
Lola was all I could see in my head. Her stunned face, her exquisite fingers. My ears flooded with the memory of the music she played. I was desperate to make her create a new song for me. A song made from the notes of her breathing, punctuated by her sobs and passionate moans.
I wanted to make Lola Cooper into a part of me. And I could have fucking resisted that, if I hadn't landed on her in that bathroom tub.
It was sort of funny, how white the porcelain was. That shade of innocence was the setting for my breaking point of sin.
Panting softly, I pumped my fist over my cock. The strokes weren't slow, they lacked the control I felt represented me. Lola was seeping into everything I was. Even now, in private, my composure was wrecked due to her.
If I hadn't realized what I could do to her... My teeth barely bit off a grunt. If I had just stayed away, not saved her, not helped or touched or seen or smelled or... or... or... A quiver of electric delight danced in my lower belly. It mixed with the last bit of my resolve.
If I had just never met Lola Cooper...
I wouldn't need to have her so badly.
Shuddering, the pressure built in my balls. My tight fist coerced me, demanded I jump over the edge of release.
As I lay sprawled there, sweat coating my blanket and red need tainting my thoughts, I had one final thought of clarity before toppling over into the tingling realm of orgasm.
I'm such a fucking idiot.
Crying out, muffling the sound with my pillow, I came all over my pumping fingers. Hot flashes caused a throb in my temples. The release was glorious. Truthfully, it still lacked something to satiate me completely.
In the back of my eyelids, colors danced. Among the dots, I saw her perfect face. Giving in to what I wanted felt close to good. It was... freeing.
Lola might not know what was in store for her, but I didn't care. Not anymore. All I wanted was her.
Now that I knew she wanted me, even if it was just on some physically subconscious level she was only just learning of... it was the temptation.
I would do everything I could to make her mine. And, as long as she was in my band, there was security in knowing I had a chunk of time to make it all happen.
Opening my eyes, I looked at the ceiling again. I imagined Lola, wondered if she was doing the same. What she might be thinking after the day we'd had together.
When I fell asleep that night, I dreamed of sapphire eyes, bandaged elbows, and the first note of No More Stars when played by someone who understood what the song really meant.
No More Stars was a song that began with a warning. If I'd done anything to Lola, any favor at all... I'd tried to warn her away from me. In every glare, in every brisk word, I'd warned her what was under my surface. What I was.
Now, she'd have to walk in the black with me and actually see.
End of Book One
-SLOW BODY ROCK-
Book 2
Prologue
Lola
I didn't remember falling asleep.
I sure as shit remembered waking up.
The voices were hoarse, gritty sounds that made it clear they were trying to keep the volume low. Cracking my eyes open, I regretted my decision instantly. “Fuck,” I hissed, rolling onto my side. Had someone been punching my skull all night?
Tenderly feeling the side of my neck, I pushed my face into the sweaty blankets. No, not punched. I was tossed around by those asshole security guards. Digging through the slowly clearing fog in my head was torturous. Alcohol and sneering dickheads were bad enough, but it was something else that invaded my brain.
Even when I first wake up, he's haunting me. Grimacing, I pushed my face into the pillow harder. Is that what I'm dealing with now? Instantly remembering his eyes, his smell, as soon as I regain consciousness?
Could I get no peace from Drezden Halifax?
Someone was shouting. Tugging the cloth off my eyes, I dared to look around my tiny bunk. Light was struggling to break through the tinted window on the wall above me. It must be early, we haven't started driving yet. I was glad for that. Especially when I sat up and everything spun in my stomach.
Groaning, I held my forehead. My whole head heavy as a bowling ball. Hanging it between my knees, I felt the rough bandages on my elbows when they touched my bare thighs. That reminded me of Drezden's fingers, callused and firm. How they'd held me still while he administered the burning medicine to my shallow cuts.
Reaching over, I touched one of the bandages. He was so tender, so insistent when he fixed me up. Blushing furiously, my eyes darted to the curtain over my door. I recognized one of the angry voices out there as Drezden himself.
His throaty tone riddled me with goosebumps. Demanding is more fitting than tender. When he was on top of me in the bathtub, that... Shaking my head cleared the cobwebs. Stop. Don't think about that right now.
Maybe never.
As if I could help it.
Who could erase a moment like that? His heavy scent in my nose, his hard chest and wicked smiles turning my insides to cotton candy—No! Ugh, stop it Lola. Just stop. Scowling at my weakness, I filled my chest with air. It took everything I had to get on my feet and not vomit.
Brittle as an elderly woman, I slid carefully into a tight blue shirt and the same jeans from yesterday. I hadn't packed much for the tour, but I hadn't expected to have to worry about it. As a sweaty grunt moving gear for my brother's band, my clothes didn't matter.
As the new guitarist for the famous Four and a Half Headstones, well... Maybe I can get Brenda to pick me up something. Borrowing from her would be no joke; the manager wore things I'd never think about trying on. Also, her heels were killer.
Sliding the curtain aside, I strained to listen to the still ongoing argument. It was hard to see much from my angle. Crisp and clean, Brenda's voice rang like a siren. “—it's the easiest way!” she cried, sounding like she was stomping in place. “Last night wouldn't have happened if they knew who she was, let me put her face out there!”
“The problem,” Drezden growled, “is you hiring assholes who don't know how to do their job. Even if she had been some drunken fan girl, they roughed her up! That's not fucking acceptable!”
Hearing the rawness in his voice was decadent. It hit a place inside of me so primal that I shut my eyes and bit my lip. There was no time to argue with myself over my inappropriate reactions. They were talking about me, about last night.
Shoving into the hall, I stared at the front of the tour bus. Sunlight streamed through the open roof window, turning Brenda's hair into fire and gold. She was sitting on a leather seat, one heel kicking into the base of the table occasionally. Her eyes, thick with makeup, jumped to me.
With his arms in a tight pretzel, Drezden's gaze widened. I didn't know what was glinting in his green depths, only that it set my skin aflame. Quickly he hid behind his indifferent squint. The sun highlighted every muscle on his bare shoulders, the black tanktop exposing him deliciously.
They both watched me, but Brenda spoke first. “Lola! You're awake, good. You can answer this for yourself—”
“She isn't doing it!” Drezden snapped, nostrils flaring.
“I'm not doing what?” My voice was rough. Clearing it, wishing for some water—and a toothbrush—I eyed them both warily. “Tell me what's going on.”
Brenda smoothed her long crimson hair. “Drez told me about last night.” My cheeks went pink as I wondered how much the singer had actually admitted to. “Don't worry,” she said suddenly, mistaking the source of my flash of panic. “No one got any photos or anything. Plus, I fired the assholes involved. We'll have new guys
for the next stop, but...”
Leaning off the wall, Drezden took a step my way. “She wants you to do a photo shoot before the next show.”
“Oh!” Blinking at his sour frown, I looked to Brenda for an explanation. “And why is that a bad thing?” I'd never done a photo shoot before. Certainly it couldn't be that hard, let alone worth arguing over.
With a smug look at Drez, the red-head motioned me towards her. Wordless, I sat down on the other seat. “Lola, it's not a bad thing at all. It'll get your name out there, your face, and hype you up to the fans of the band. Clarifying that Johnny Muse is gone, you're in, it's all important to help the face of the band. Plus, things like last night won't be an issue anymore.”
Drezden's palm came down, slapping the table between us. Jumping, I grabbed at my chest, willing my heart to calm down. “It's not the photo shoot that's the problem! It's the time it will take away from practice! Brenda, we have one fucking day before the show in Colorado, we need every minute we have to make sure Lola is ready.”
“And I told you,” she huffed, “that I can call ahead and squeeze in a chunk of time tonight! Schedule around it, it'll just be an hour at most.”
“An hour to take photos, yeah. What about the hour to set up the location, then the hour to prep her?”
Brenda rolled her eyes, lips going white.
Though my heart was still struggling to climb into my mouth, I looked up at Drezden. “Why can't we just do the shoot here on the bus? Then we won't lose all the time stopping and setting up or whatever.”
Reaching across the table, Brenda clasped my hands in hers. “Yes! That's perfect! I can have the photographer climb on our bus, along with the makeup and wardrobe, then you won't even need to stop practicing until they're ready for you! When we're done, you can go right back to the music while they pack up and hop out into the car that will follow us! Lola, you're a genius!”
I didn't miss the smug smile she gave Drezden, nor the harsh scowl he answered with. His eyes, normally so green, were dark as a storm when he glared at me. “Fine. Whatever. Just do whatever to make sure last night never happens again, and that this show goes smoothly.”
