“Oh yes! That’s it! Yeah, baby!”
While I babbled on he shifted my legs to his other arm and reached out with his right hand to grab and pull on my nipples while he very slowly drew his cock out, paused and then plunged in all the way again. He would stay there, buried inside of me for several seconds, almost long enough to make my head explode each time before pulling it back for another stroke and doing it all over again.
My body arched and wiggled and tossed all over the couch as I tried to ride him harder and faster. Just when I thought he was ready to speed up his tempo, he pulled all the way out and said, “Get up on your knees baby.”
I did as he asked and got up on my knees with my hands resting on the other arm of the couch. He knelt behind me and we wiggled against each other until my thighs were pressed against the arm of the couch. He held his cock in one hand and thrust forward. I cried out again and then he grabbed my hips and began to move in and out of me while I moved back and forth against him. That was what I’d wanted…all day long. It was becoming what I lived for.
He fucked me like that for a long time. I was already about to come again when he reached around and put a finger against my clit. He pressed against the ultra-sensitive nub as he fucked me, rubbing and swirling my own juices across it. He continued driving his cock into me and stroking my clit until I couldn’t hold it any longer.
“Oh god, Tristan! I’m coming again, baby!”
“Yeah, baby, me too.” We thrust and jerked against each other wildly until, at last, I felt the orgasm hit me like a truck and, less than a minute later, his own orgasm exploded out through his cock and into my pussy. He rode me gently for a few seconds before at last collapsing down onto my back while we both gasped for breath. When our breathing had finally slowed down and we were both back under control he slipped out of me, leaving me feeling suddenly empty. He rolled onto his side and pulled me into him and I snuggled back down into his chest in the same position that I’d been in that morning before we had been so rudely interrupted.
CHAPTER FOUR
TRISTAN
We pulled out early the next morning to head for Houston. Elly was gone when I woke up and I felt the bus moving, so I just went back to sleep. I slept until I felt us stop again. At that point, we were in Houston. It was only nine in the morning. The show wasn’t supposed to start until six, so thinking about what stupid Jake said the day before, I took out the binder where I’d been keeping the songs I’d written and my guitar. I started looking through them; some of them were finished, but others still had a ways to go. Most of them still needed tweaking and I knew from experience that none of them were ready for fucking approval. I’d have better luck just getting up and beating my fucking head into the wall. If I chanced it and sent them in, it would take another fucking week to hear back from them before I could start fixing whatever they wanted fixed. Since that day was the first deadline, a week would be too late and they could still say I wouldn’t get my money and my deal. I was fighting a losing battle and the more I thought about it, the more pissed off I got.
I should have hired a lawyer and sued the fuckers for not telling me exactly what the deal was. They were doing everything in their power to keep me from getting that money and the record deal; in the meantime, every time I got onstage and did a concert for them, the fuckers were making money off me hand over fist.
I got up and started getting dressed. I came into this contest with nothing but my talent and proved it was enough for America to vote me number one out of thousands of contestants. I had been playing to tens of thousands of screaming fans every night; I could have walked out of here with the same thing I walked in with and started over easier than I could get those songs written and approved at that point. I finished pulling on my jeans, boots, and t-shirt and went looking for Jake.
When I passed Elly’s bus, I thought about calling her out and telling her what I planned to do. She would only try and talk me out of it though, and that would probably escalate into a fight. I wasn’t giving in on this one. I was tired of being used by these fuckers and Elly would just have to understand that. I walked on by and went into the conference hall. Every city we went into, they rented office space for the big wigs. I guess the prissy motherfuckers were too delicate for a bus to be good enough. I saw Tony in the hall.
“Hey, Tony, where’s Jake?”
“Hey, Tristan. Maybe I can help you. What do you need?”
I need to knock your ugly face off your fat little shoulders. “I need to talk to Jake. Where is he?”
“I’m just not sure if he’s available…”
“Never mind, I’ll find him myself.” I walked into the first office on my right. One of Jake’s little minions was in there. “Where’s Jake?” I asked him.
“He’s in the last office on the right,” the guy told me. When I turned around, Tony was still behind me. He was looking annoyed that the minion told me where to find the Great One.
“Tristan, maybe we should just talk first, to make sure you’re not going to fly off the handle.”
I turned around and got in the little bastard’s face. “Why should I fly off the handle, Tony? Because I just found out that there was work I was supposed to be doing in order to get my money at the end of this fucking tour? Because I know that I was told this too late just so the thieving bastards wouldn’t have to give me what I was owed after I made millions of fucking dollars for them? I can’t imagine what I could possibly have to fly off the handle about; can you?”
Tony looked like he was about to shit his pants, but I was not sure what he was more afraid of: me, or losing his job because he let me get past him. When I turned back towards the office, the minion told me Jake was in.
I found Jake sitting in a nice office in a big ass wing-backed chair, dressed like a GQ model as usual, and sipping on his latte with some other fool in a suit. Jake looked up at me, obviously annoyed that I’d interrupted.
“Tristan, did we have an appointment?” he said.
“No, but this won’t take long. I quit!”
Jake jumped up out of his chair and said, “Quit? You can’t quit!”
“Watch me.”
“You won’t get your money or your contract--”
I cut him off. “I wasn’t going to get it anyways. You were doing everything in your power to screw me out of it. Now you don’t have to stress about whether or not I give you any more shit about it. I’m walking out, now.”
“I could sue you for breach of contract.”
I shrugged, “You can try.” I turned and started to walk out.
The other guy stood up and said, “Tristan, wait!” I turned around and the guy said, “I’m Manny Diaz. I’m the CEO of Troubled Times Records.” He stuck out his hand. I wasn’t in the mood for any pleasantries at the moment so I didn’t take it. He seemed to get it. He smiled and said, “I’m a friend of Jake. I was in Houston, so I stopped by to say hello and ask about you. We hadn’t got as far as you yet, but since you’re here and you seem to be free, I’ll just ask you myself. How’d you like to work for me?”
Jake looked like an aneurysm was exploding in his head. I could actually see his pulse rising just by watching the vein in his neck. I swallowed the smile, but the knowledge that he was so pissed off about it made me determined to say yes to this guy no matter what. But I had to ask, “Work for you doing what?”
He laughed, “Making records, of course. I can get you a lucrative contract. I’ll be back in the L.A. offices in a week. Meet me there next Wednesday and we’ll get this ball rolling…”
“What the fuck?” Jake asked him.
“This is a guaranteed deal? You won’t weasel out of it like your friend Jake here?” I asked him.
“You give me a verbal okay right now and I guarantee you a record deal. You’ve been killing it up there all season. America loves you!”
“Then okay!”
“What the fuck is happening here?” Jake was glaring at his ‘friend’.
&n
bsp; “All’s fair in love and the record business, Jake, you know that. You’d do the same.” Manny turned back towards me and said, “I’ll see you in L.A.” I reached my hand out and he took it. As I shook it, I looked into Jakes eyes. I saw murder there.
I didn’t give a rat’s ass.
CHAPTER FIVE
ELLY
I floated through the day, setting up for the show in Houston with a smile on my face. Something had changed between me and Tristan. It wasn’t anything either of us said out loud, or even alluded to, but I could feel that it was different. It wasn’t just about sex anymore and I was becoming less and less afraid of the feelings I was having for him. I could have been wrong, because he never talked to me about feelings either, but I got the feeling that he was having the same for me. I was still a little worried about whatever happened the day before. But after the show, he seemed okay, so whatever happened in the morning couldn’t have been all that bad.
Hannah and I were standing behind the stage, looking out at Ethan performing and Hannah said, “He’s good, but do you notice how much more into it the crowd gets when Tristan’s out there than any of them?”
I smiled; I’d noticed it, of course, but I thought I was just being biased.
“Yeah, I do notice that. Tristan’s just got that quality that makes him a star. I mean, he’s talented, too, obviously; but even if he wasn’t, I think he could still command a crowd.”
“He has the same effect on you, too. I can see it in your eyes just when you talk about him.”
I didn’t comment on that. There was no sense in denying it. I knew it was as obvious on my face as it was in my heart. Even in my voice, I guessed; the last time I’d talked to both my mother and Susie on the phone they’d commented on it. I didn’t care, though; I didn’t have to hide it from anyone any longer.
Ethan finished his performance and Brooke went next. She was losing weight, drastically. Everyone had commented on it and the producers had even talked with her about it. They were concerned for her health since it seemed to be happening overnight. I kind of felt sorry for her. She was one of those girls who was so pretty, and she’s actually even talented, but it doesn’t seem to be enough. She always seemed to be reaching out, begging for attention. Maybe she’d get a record deal, too, after the tour and that would feed her need for attention. I really didn’t wish her any ill will…as long as she never came near Tristan naked, again. In that case, I’d take pleasure in kicking her ass.
After Brooke finished, the crowd was going wild, chanting Tristan’s name. He always went last and they always got all wound up when they waited for him to come out. I was shocked, and the crowd was loudly disappointed, when instead of Tristan, Ethan returned to the stage. It took him a really long time to quiet the crowd down.
When he finally did he said, “Hey guys! I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Tristan Rodgers won’t be performing tonight.” The crowd went crazy again. I was afraid they were going to riot. I might have joined them.
I looked at Hannah and said, “What the hell is going on?” She shrugged and looked as confused as I felt. Ethan was trying to get the crowd to be quiet so he could finish whatever it was he was trying to say, but they wouldn’t shut-up. They were chanting for Tristan; that’s what they paid for and they were demanding he come out. Poor Ethan looked overwhelmed. He was looking back over his shoulder at us…I thought. I finally looked behind me and saw Jake standing there. For the first time since I’d met him, he acted like he didn’t know I was in the room. He looked really pissed and he was staring straight out at Ethan. Tony was at his elbow, ready to lick his boots if need be. Jake leaned over and said something into Tony’s ear. Tony nodded and scurried away.
Jake breezed past us and out onto the stage. He took the microphone from Ethan and said, “If you won’t calm down and listen to us, then the show is over.” There was a roll of murmurs and then sudden silence. It was almost like suddenly going deaf. Then he said, “Thank you. First of all, I want you all to know that your ticket fee will be refunded for tonight. You’ll be given a receipt on your way out the door which you can redeem at one of the locations listed on it.”
Someone screamed up at him, “Is Tristan sick?”
Then there were a barrage of:
“Where is he?”
“Why isn’t Tristan here?”
“Is he okay?”
Jake held his hand up again until the crowd was silent. I was as much on pins and needles as everyone else, and I felt a little foolish about not knowing what was going on. Then, I felt like someone kicked me in stomach and knocked all of the wind out of me when I heard him say, “Tristan Rodgers walked out on the tour today. He walked out on you…and all of the American’s who voted for him on Fresh Voices.” Jake tried to say more, but the crowd was too rowdy. He finally had them shut the front curtain and as he walked by us again he said, “Break it all down; we need to get out of here tonight.”
I was frozen to my spot. Shaking and nauseated, wondering what the hell had happened, and why the hell Tristan hadn’t told me what was going on. He was walking out on a million dollars and a record contract. Was he a complete moron?
CHAPTER SIX
TRISTAN
I sat in the bus and watched what was happening onstage. I saw Ethan first and couldn’t believe the chicken-shit mother-fucking producers were going to put it on him to tell that rowdy Texas crowd that they weren’t going to get what they paid for. Poor Ethan was not the type of guy who really commanded a lot of attention and it was obvious after a few minutes that the crowd wasn’t going to listen to a fucking thing the poor guy had to say. That was when Jake came out and gave his speech about how I’d walked out on everyone. He’d just cut his own fucking throat. I’d been ready to walk away, pissed, but willing to leave it all behind. As soon as the bastard did that, trying to undermine my career before it had even really started, it was on. The first chance I got when I get back to L.A., I was going to call up one of my friendly, neighborhood tabloids and spill my guts. I was going to talk until I was blue in the face about how these bastards are making a fortune off of selling hope and crushing fucking dreams. When I saw him walk off with Ethan and close the curtain, I figured I’d better pack up my shit and get out of the bus before the motherfucker had me removed by security. I’d saved enough of my clothing allowance that I could afford an airline ticket home.
As I started throwing my shit into a duffle bag, I thought about that word: home. I wondered if I had a home. Would Elly still let me stay in her apartment? Shit! If Elly stayed on the job, would Susie let me in? I had enough to crash in a lousy motel for a few days, but it was going to run out fast and then I’d be fucked. Shit! I knew I did the right thing telling them to shove it. I could get a real record deal and go on a real tour. I just needed to make it through the next week or so. I could do that. I’d survived worse, for sure.
I grabbed my guitar and duffle bag full of shit and headed for the door. Before I got to it, it was pulled open and Elly stood there. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was pissed.
“I can explain,” I said.
“Really? Then why didn’t you explain before the show? Before I had to hear it the same way everyone else heard it? I’m so fucking stupid. I keep fooling myself into thinking that I mean more to you than that.”
“Jesus, Elly. This isn’t about you.”
“It never is,” she said. I knew what she meant, and I guess I knew she had a right to be mad; but right then her being pissed was not what I needed, so it just made me mad.
“You’re not the one who just got cheated out of a fucking million dollars and a record deal, Elly. It’s not supposed to be about you. Get over yourself for a half a fucking minute.”
She laughed, but it was obvious she was not amused. Then she said, “Me, get over myself? Are you fucking kidding me? You are the most self-absorbed, narcissistic son of a bitch I’ve ever met in my life. Besides that, they didn’t cheat you out of anything. You qui
t…right? You’re walking away. How fucking stupid are you?”
Now I was really pissed. Who the fuck did she think she was calling me stupid. Especially when she didn’t have a fucking clue what she was talking about. “Walking away? Yeah, I told them to shove it. They were setting me up to fail, Elly. They never intended to give me that prize. I was going to be their cash cow all across the U.S. and then they were going to leave me high and dry when we got back. I wasn’t sitting around waiting for that to happen. I got another offer, and yes, I told Jake he could shove the rest of this tour up his ass!”
She was looking at me like I hit her or something. I was confused. I didn’t know why she was acting like this was so fucking personal. “All of that happened and you didn’t think about talking to me about any of it?”
“It was happening fast, Elly. I would have talked to you about it.”
“When?” she said, looking at the duffel bag and guitar on my arm. “Were you going to drop me a postcard or send me a text when you got to L.A.?”
“No, I was coming to find you.”
“Right. Good luck, Tristan. Have a nice life.” She walked out of the bus and slammed the door. I was too pissed to follow her. I needed her right then. She was my only friend, my only support, and she was going to walk out on me like the rest of them. Fuck that! I wasn’t going to grovel at her feet.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ELLY
I was so mad when I left Tristan’s bus that I was shaking. I went back to my own bus and kicked and threw a few things…none of it made me feel any better. What the hell was I supposed to do? I was in love with the bastard. I guess I only just realized it when we were fighting. That was why it hurt so much that he didn’t come and explain this to me himself. I was pissed off more about the way I found out than I was about what he’d done. I had a job. I didn’t need his millions. Everything I’d done since the night we met in that bar had been about making his life better. He said I make it about me; so far, none of it had been about me. It was always about him. Now the stupid bastard was not just walking away from his career, he was walking away from a woman who would have done absolutely anything for him. I kicked the metal lockers we kept our stuff in, hard, right as the door to the bus opened and Hannah walked in.
My Rock #8 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #8) Page 2
