by A. L. Wood
They smile at me, nod their heads and walk out.
“Want a drink?”
“Sure, what’ve you got?”
“Water or whiskey, take your pick.”
“I’ll stick to water.” He opens the refrigerator and pulls a bottle of water out before leading me to the couch and sitting right beside me. “So tell me about the song, how does it reflect you? I have to tell you that took me a bit of guard. Out of all the songs you guys have out, you had a lot of choices. You could’ve chosen any one of them, you could’ve lied and chose one of your less meaningful songs. Instead I believe you told the truth, you picked the deepest song.”
He hands me my water before answering. His eyebrows scrunch in thought, contemplating how to answer me.
“I’m not going to go into too much detail, but it’s one of the few songs I’ve written that ended up on our album. It tells of my life, my turmoil and how I feel.”
“But it’s so sad, it’s a devastating song. I can’t listen to it without ending the song wiping away tears.”
“Guess my life is sad then. Care to change that?” He asks flirtatiously.
How can he do that? Go from being serious, talking about himself to switching topics and being light hearted. Like he didn’t matter.
“How could I make your life better than sad and dreary?” I daringly ask.
“You could help me escape from the sadness. Escape together, with each other.”
I gasp.
He’s being more direct than I thought he would be. It didn’t once cross my mind that we’d come to this road tonight. That he would ask that of me so soon, unless he thinks that’s the only reason I joined him after dinner. That I only wanted him for one thing.
Fuck.
Shit.
Fuck.
What to do?
I turn my body toward him so our knees are touching, “Escaping sounds…nice but you have to know that’s not why I came here with you. I’m not a groupie out to chase after your success or what you could do for me. I came here for you, just you.”
His mouth opens and shuts, hesitating to speak. How do you like that for direct?
“That thought never crossed my mind, I mean normally it always does. No one wants to have sex without strings tying my wrists. With you though, I guess I forgot about it. About groupies. I didn’t think of you that way.”
“I guess that’s out of the way then. Where will we be going for our escape?”
I look away, fearful that he’ll be able to read how anxious I am, to feel him, to taste him.
His hand slides up my neck slowly, fingertips meeting my jaw and guiding my head to face him. He pulls my face to his, I pause mere millimeters away from tasting him. I close my eyes and breathe him in, this moment I will never forget. I’ll never forget his scent, a spicy wintergreen, or the way his fingers feel holding my face.
Safe.
Valued.
Worthy.
I open my eyes, to find him lost in me.
“It’s just an escape.” He says more to himself than me.
His lips slam into mine, his hand working its way to the base of my neck, pulling me to him. I meet his lips, his demand then my demand. His tongue glides along my lips, slowly tasting me. He moans.
I open my lips to meet allowing entrance, he delves his tongue in, sweeps my mouth with all of him.
In between kisses he shifts me so that I’m sitting on his lap, my knees pressing into the sides of his thighs. My clothed sex meeting his clothed sex. I purposely grind myself against him, rubbing against his hard ridge as I kiss him back with pouring every single emotion I possess into him.
He pushes me back, his eyes like flames searing my flesh as his takes in every ridge and imperfect crevice that makes up me, as he pulls my shirt over my head. He removes his shirt, my eyes are met with toned pectorals and abdominals, my fingers trace each muscle, every inch of his skin worthy of my touch. He shivers and goose bumps rise on his skin. Am I affecting him this much? As much as he is me.
He reaches his hand behind me and unlatches my bra, a skimpy blue number, not the best choice if I knew I would’ve been in this position earlier. I had set out with the intention that he want me, not that we would actually get this far.
Self-doubt rears its ugly head as he removes my bar, my hand automatically goes to cover my breasts. Most women feel that it’s when they remove their panties their true selves are revealed, that it’s the moment they expose who they are. For me, it’s my breasts. A metaphor like the eye being the window to the soul, my breasts are mine.
Insecure in their size, more than a handful or two for the only other man I’ve been with. Zepp attempts to move my hand but I don’t budge. My breathing is rushed, overworked with emotion, I hesitate.
“You’re beautiful, you don’t have anything to be ashamed and I’d love to continue but if you don’t want to I would be okay with that too.”
I draw my arm back slowly showing him myself. His eyes never leave mine. I can’t help but to meet his lips, again and again. My breasts smashing against his chest, my sex grinding against his roughly. We need a bedroom.
Suddenly he reaches his hands around my ass and holds me to him while standing up, he carries me through the bus to a wall of beds. I land on the bottom bed, he sneaks his hands upward to undo the button of my jeans. He looks to me, asking permission, I nod my head while biting my lip.
I need this.
I need him.
He slides my shoes off, then pulls my jeans and panties down with on tug, his hands spread my knees apart.
“Fuck, you’re soaked. Can I taste you? Please say yes.” He begs.
“Y….yes.”
His tongue slides from my entrance to my nub then back down again. He inserts his tongue inside of me, in and out in place of his cock. One hand comes up to massage my breast while the other rubs at my clit. Each thrust of his tongue, flick of my nipple and rub at my clit build at the plateau for an orgasm. Soon I come crashing down around him, and he licks it all up.
“I need to feel you.” I moan out.
He strips himself of his pants, his cock spring free and at attention, all for me. Out of nowhere he has a condom in hand and rips it open, he guides it down his thick shaft.
“Slide in.”
I scoot myself in, so that I’m laying horizontally on the bed instead of vertically. He climbs over me, placing his knees in between mine. His arms curl up underneath my shoulders, his hands grip my shoulders as he slides into me.
His eyes hold mine, the intensity of his look and the feel of his cock reaching depths that have never been felt by me are overwhelming. My limbs begin to tingle as my body begins to shake. One of his hands grasps my neck as he guides me to kiss his lips, raw from the abuse of mine.
“You’re my undoing, Radisyn.” He whispers along my neck, leaving wet kisses as his cock thrusts in and out of me.
Do not over think that Rad. Collect yourself.
I lift my hips to meet his thrusts, slamming our bodies against one another. My hands once gripping the sheets, now grip his ass. My plateau beginning again, each time he plunges into my depths I rise another notch.
“You’re so fucking tight, it feels too good. Too fucking good.” Zepp groans out, pushing each word out between breaths.
His words are my undoing. It wrecks me, in a fantastic way.
My body convulses, my orgasm hitting every nerve ending in my body sending endorphins throughout. My clenching only forces an orgasm out of him, he smashes his lips against mine while groaning.
He possess me.
Usually coming down from a high is the absolute worst, your body suffers withdrawals, you shake, and you feel numb to everything except for the need to get your fix again and again.
With Zepp the high is similar, except for one thing.
While coming down you always know that the fix will be there, it’s not leaving you, it can’t because it’s as addicted to you as you are to it.
Z
epp isn’t addicted.
Zepp isn’t high off me.
Zepp isn’t suffering withdrawal.
Once we return from escape he pulls the condom off and disappears, throwing the condom away I assume. While I lay in shock on his bunk for a bed. My juices leaking out of me onto his blankets, my heart pounding after such a life changing experience. When he comes out I recognize the look in his eyes, boredom.
He’s already moved on from what we did, the escape was just that, a means to an end. He was dealing with something and wanted an out, I was his temporary out.
What I had disclosed before about not being a groupie wasn’t needed, it was uncalled for. He had already made up his mind with what he wanted, nothing I did would have swayed his attraction to me.
I was just an out.
And a damn easy one I was.
I had a few options. I could pretend naiveté, show him how much what just happened between us meant to me. That would only embarrass myself in the end, he’d have to tell me to leave. Or I could call him out on it, make him explain himself which in the end will only chase him away. He’d close the door he’d just opened for good.
Or I could leave by choice, without a word from him. Leave him guessing and intrigued. If I was something he wanted he could find me himself.
I choose the latter.
I’m not going to sit around and wait for an explanation of his closing himself up. I’m not going to wait for him to nicely kick me out, or have him explain this was a one-time thing.
No, I’m worthy of much more than that.
I disregard his presence, if he can give the look of boredom, I can too.
I swing my legs out over his bed, search for my pants and shoes and put them on. I walk back to the couch, find my bra and shirt and put those on too.
“What’re you doing?” Zepp asks from behind my back.
Steel yourself Rad. He needs this and so do you.
“It’s a little late, I’m just going to get going.”
I run out of the bus and far away. I eventually make it to the front of the venue, reach into my pocket for my cell and call a cab.
Headed home.
Home.
How is it that home doesn’t feel like home without Zepp? How can a place I felt at peace at, no longer mean the same thing after a chance encounter?
“Some of us think holding on makes us strong;
but sometimes it is letting go.”
- Hermann Hesse
Chapter Seven
Who in the hell did she think she was? Walking away from me, no one does that. Not that I wanted more from her than a good time or anything, but fuck, that surely left a bruise on my ego.
“Where’d ginger run off to last night so fast? Did you scare her away with your fetish ways Zepp?”
“Fuck off Liam. I was done with her, so she left.”
“That’s strange for you, usually you keep them around for more than a few minutes. You were done that fast?”
“You’re trying to get a rise out of me, I’m on to you. It wasn’t a few minutes, dickhead. We did our business then I asked her to leave, she wasn’t happy about it but she left anyway. Fuck, she’s probably the easiest groupie I’ve had all around. Easy lay, easy goodbye.” I laugh on the outside, shame hiding inside. Shame that I could talk about someone, a stranger that way so easily.
Cold and callously.
~*~
“So tell me what happened after I left you two alone.” I hear Avery’s voice coming over the line on my phone.
I should’ve ignored her call until I wasn’t as broken up as I am now about last night with Zepp.
“Nothing happened, I left not long after you.”
“Liar.” She calls me out, truth never hiding from her, even when she can’t look into my eyes.
“He wasn’t who I thought he was, fuck Avery, I don’t know who I thought he was. Years of building him up inside my head, reading ridiculous articles and interviews with him trying to piece together the person I thought he’d be. I was wrong, so fucking wrong. The person I thought he was broke in front of me, like a hammer to a mirror as soon as the deed I had set out to do was done. He’s untouchable, I’m not sure ice or warmth alike could reach him.”
“So, what you’re just going to give up?”
“Have you been listening to anything I said? He’s not the person I had made him out to be in my head. Nothing more than a hope, a dream, a high expectation and he failed, irrevocably. I picked myself up, brushed the crushed hopes off and left with my pride and dignity intact. I wasn’t about to crumble like a weak groupie who fancied herself in love, and beg him to just want me as much as I wanted him. I held my head high, got dressed and said walked out.”
“He didn’t say anything after you left?”
“Nope. I think I stunned him, that I wasn’t falling at his feet like everyone else worshipping the very ground he walks on.”
“I’m so sorry Rad. I know how long you’ve wanted just one moment with him and although I thought you were crazy and a little unhealthy in your crush I still didn’t want it to end like this for you if the opportunity ever approached. His lost though, you’re a great catch. Your someone is out there, just waiting for you to come along.”
“I’ll be fine. Give me a few days to nurse my inner wounds and I’ll be good as new. My adolescent crush that should’ve never entered my adulthood can stay in the past. It’s done, over. On to searching for love elsewhere.”
“You should let me take you out, get some drinks and I’ll help you find a man.”
“No, not yet.” I laugh, “It’s going to take more than a few hours Avery. When I’m ready, you can help me find the love of my life.”
“You better, and it’s not going to be Shayne.”
“Of course it isn’t, I keep telling you I’m not interested. He’s just a friend, and that’s all he’ll be. I’m going to let you go, I have to be up early. It’s my day with Rush, I’ve got something special planned for her. I don’t want to miss taking her because I overslept.”
“You love that girl don’t you? If I wasn’t as wise, and didn’t know you as well as I do I’d think you’re replacing me with her. You’re lucky I’m not the jealous type babe. Get some rest, call me when you leave Rush and tell me how you’re surprise for her went.”
“I will, love ya.”
“Night babe, love ya.”
I toss my phone onto my couch, shut the lights off along the way to my bedroom. Strip my dress off and throw on some shorts and a tank top before climbing into bed, alone.
Alone, like every other night.
I’m tired of being alone, in life and in bed.
I want to be loved, sadly not by the one I had longed for it to be.
“The process of letting go is like taking a journey
to the center of your being.”
- Darren L. Johnson
Chapter Eight
“Are you going to stop at your families before we leave California?” Ryan pulls me aside. “I know that as of late things haven’t been good between you and them, if you don’t want me prying I won’t. I’m just concerned for you, I know you breathe for Rush and it’s got to me tough on the heart not seeing her. Whatever it is though, you should work through it with your parents. If we leave without you seeing them I know it’s going to eat at you for the entire tour. Meaning we’ll have to deal with a dick.”
“Dad’s been reading on experimental treatments and he’s got it in his head that one of them could be Rush’s cure. Wants me to make some phone calls and pay for it. I don’t want to. It’s not about the money, you and I both know I’d give everything I have in my bank account away if it would cure her, if it would make her normal again. Nothing’s going to change it though, the damage was done all those years ago and dads just setting himself up for a broken heart. I said no, so he’s pissed. Thinks I want Rush the way she is. Blame is coming back to me again.”
“Go talk to him, work it out before we leave.
You’ve got today before we hit the road again. Go see Rush, spend the day with your family and work the shit out. Doesn’t matter what he says, you know it wasn’t your fault then and it’s not your fault now. Remember that, in the heat of emotions people say things that they really don’t mean. He’s just hurting, as you are Zepp.”
“I know. Fuck do I know.” I say holding the bridge of my nose, holding my emotions at bay.
“Then you know what you have to do.”
“No one is in control of your happiness but you;
therefore, you have the power to change anything
about yourself or your life that you want to change.”
- Barbara De Angelis
Chapter Nine
“Radisyn!” Rush exclaims running out to meet me at my old beat up Honda Accord, a car that as old as it was, was as dependable as a new one. I run up to Rush to greet her with a hug.
Here’s the thing with Rush, she’s the same age as I am, with a mind of an adolescent. She’s a woman that I can’t help think of as a child, a younger sister who needs loving care and guidance. I know that with my profession I shouldn’t get attached to clients, because most of them have medical issues that could cause them to be here in good health one day and gone the next. I’m not privy to any of my clients medical charts, even if I were I wouldn’t have been able to guard my heart from Rush.
She made loving her, easy.
If I’m lucky I get to spend two days a week with her. She’s going out of town for a few weeks so this will be the last day I get to spend time with her before I go. Some people call what I do being a home health aide, others just call me an aide. I give Rush’s caretakers, in this case her parents a break. Some time for themselves, I’ve taken classes to be a certified nurse’s assistant, in the event that something happened I would be able to deliver emergency services to my client until help would be there.
I take my clients out to enjoy activities, even to run errands. I provide companionship, to those who otherwise wouldn’t have any. I love my job, it’s what I was meant to do. Rush being my client is an added bonus.
