Unstoppable

by Amity Cross

  “Hey,” I said, stepping back so she could come in.

  “Hey. I’m not too late am I?"

  I shook my head. “Never."

  I let my gaze run over her back, across her little ass and down her pale legs as she walked across the room and dumped her bag by the couch.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked, closing the door.

  She turned to face me, her blue eyes sparkling. “Sure."

  “What do you want?”

  “Whatever. I’m easy.”

  I fuckin’ wish. “Whatever?”

  “Nothing spicy.”

  “That ain’t whatever,” I said with a smirk. Turning, I picked up the phone to call room service, my gaze following Lilly as she did a lap of the room, checking everything out. Anyone else and I’d tell them to fuck off for being a nosey bastard, but Lilly could touch whatever she wanted - I liked her hands on my things. I could imagine her marking her territory and the thought made my already hardening cock, harder.

  I ordered an obscene amount of food and snapped the menu shut. The dude on the phone said it would be forty-five and I hung up.

  “Pretty swish,” Lilly said, gesturing around the room.

  “I guess,” I replied, sinking down onto the couch.

  “You guess?” she scoffed at me. "You can fit like two of my entire apartment in here."

  I patted the cushion beside me. “You can fit here, you know."

  She flopped down unceremoniously in a cloud of some kind of spicy perfume, her bare leg squashing next to mine. Torture. Fucking torture.

  “What number were we up to?” she asked.

  “Twenty questions? Um, no fuckin' idea.”

  “I’m just going to start asking, then.”

  “Sure.” I sat back, resting my elbow on the back of the couch so I could watch her.

  “When did you start playing drums?”

  “I took lessons in high school. It was better than beating up other kids.” Lilly kicked off her boots and curled her legs up onto the couch, mirroring my body position and I felt myself leaning closer.

  “You were a troublemaker?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “You don’t seem the type.”

  I shrugged, my nervous tick coming back. “I got into a lot of trouble back then.”

  “What about now?”

  “I get into different kinds of trouble.” A grin pulled at my lips and she flushed a sexy shade of red. Fuck me.

  Shaking her head, she went on, trying to cover her embarrassment. “How old are you?”

  So fucking sexy. “Twenty-eight."

  “So, you’re an old man?”

  “Fuck, Lilly,” I exclaimed. “I ain’t that old. What about you?"

  She started to laugh and it was the most intoxicating sound. “Twenty-five."

  “Why’d you move to LA?"

  Her expression fell and I knew I’d overstepped the line, but before I could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. Getting up, I let in the guy with our food, feeling like a right tool. Why did she move to LA? From the look on her face something bad must’ve happened to make her upend her life to move to a new city. It wasn’t any of my business, but I wanted it to be.

  I’d ordered so much food the dude had to wheel his little trolley into the room and leave it there. I slipped him a twenty and closed the door.

  “We can’t eat all this,” Lilly cried like it was a crime I wanted to spoil her.

  “I’ll give it a shot,” I said with a laugh, patting my stomach, fucking glad she’d let that question drop.

  We ate in silence for a while, trying a little bit from each plate, before Lilly settled on a pile of battered fish and salad.

  “So, can I ask you some questions?” I asked carefully.

  She glanced away, concentrating on the plate in her lap.

  “To make it fair, you can ask me a really fucked up question and I’ll answer.” I was living dangerously, but I had to know something, anything, about this woman who’d made me feel so fucking obsessed.

  “I don’t like talking about myself,” she said quietly.

  “Neither do I, but it’s all I’ve been doing.”

  “I’ve had some really bad experiences,” she said, staring at her hands.

  “With guys?"

  She nodded.

  “Sorry.”

  Looking up, she glared at me. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault.”

  I stared right back, making her squirm. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to punch those fuckers in the face as well."

  She looked at me with some kind of expression…hope…and just as quick as it appeared, it was gone. Awkwardly, she set her plate aside and said, “I better go."

  “Lilly."

  “It’s late-"

  “I don’t fuckin’ care. I want you to stay."

  She let out a long sigh and sunk back into the couch. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m not good at this.”

  I frowned and reached out for her, curling an arm over her shoulders and tugging her into my chest. When she rested her cheek over my heart, I felt a pang of lust mainline right into my cock. Shit, she felt so good in my arms, better than any other woman had.

  “Neither am I,” I admitted. I didn’t talk to women, not like this. If I invited them back to my hotel room or wherever, it was just to fuck. No personals, just body parts slapping together.

  Lilly snorted like I was telling fibs.

  “It’s the truth," I said.

  “Why? I would’ve thought someone like you would have no trouble talking to women.”

  “Well, there’s talking and there’s talking." She started to squirm out of my grasp, but I tightened my grip, not ready to let her go just yet.

  “Dirty fuck.”

  “Yeah, I am.” It'd been like a week or something since I'd come in some chick and that was a new high score. Not one that I was proud of because my balls were tight as fuck, but shit…Lilly. I'd love to fucking bury myself in her, but… With her there always seemed to be a but.

  “I’m not gunna judge you, Lilly,” I whispered. “You can tell me anything. I want you to.” I choked on the last word, wishing I could just say, I want you and not have her bolt like a scared rabbit.

  She tilted her chin up, her gaze running over my face, her lips just fucking there and my breathing started to pick up. Who the fuck was Lilly Hunter?

  My body had a mind of its own and I felt myself gravitating toward her like a fucking magnet. My lips brushed lightly against hers, our breath tangling together. Her entire body shuddered and began to come alive, but her eyes said something different.

  "Lilly?" I murmured, not wanting to ruin everything because I was too fucking dumb to listen to my head and not my cock.

  "Don't," she whispered and that single word sliced right through my heart. I'd never been rejected quite like this before and it stung like fuckin' buggery, but I wasn't an asshole.

  I pulled back slightly, studying her features. Flushed cheeks, nose piercing, perfect fucking lips that I wanted to suck on so bad…and eyes like huge round saucers, bluer than I thought eyes could be...

  “I’ve gotta go,” she said, pulling away. I watched on in disappointment as she climbed out of my arms and off the couch, pulled her boots on and fumbled with her bag.

  “Shit, Lilly, you don’t have to bolt, you know.” I tried to cover up my raging disappointment. “I won’t try and kiss you again. Promise.”

  “You fucking better not.” And with that she wrenched open the door and let it slam closed behind her.

  Fuck. Me.

  Lilly

  Fight or flight.

  Obviously, I was a fan of flight, but not so obviously was when I finished work the next night, after an entire day of stewing in the juices of my own terror, was finding out that Rob was a fanboy of fight.

  I was finishing up my shift, bussing tables after a busy night at the Lightbox, the dingy hipster bar that paid me in peanuts, and he appeared in front
of me. Just like that. One moment I was weaving my way through the clumps of drunk and drunker patrons, picking up empties, and he was just standing there. In the way.

  He smiled down at me in that effortless way of his and my heart fluttered.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, not liking that he’d just shown up out of nowhere. I wasn’t used to it and it made me feel exposed. Exposed like I hadn’t thought about him all night. Like I hadn’t thought about him as I touched myself the moment I got home.

  “I wanted to see you."

  “You’re seeing me,” I said, stepping around him to pick up more empties.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, like it was a stretch to apologize and I wondered if he’d ever had to do it before. Apologize to a woman.

  “You don’t have to be.” I stacked more glasses onto the little tower I was building in the crook of my arm. I should be the one apologizing for overreacting. Besides, I didn't really know the guy.

  “I’m going to sound like a right asshole, but I value your friendship.”

  I almost choked on my own spit. “Somehow, I think you don’t have many female friends.”

  “Lilly, that was fuckin’ hard to say.”

  “Obviously.”

  “I’m trying, okay? I like being with you, I like hanging out with you and I don’t want to let it go to shit because I was a typical fuckin’ guy who only thought about his dick.” A few people around us stopped mid-conversation and glanced at him. “I’m not giving up that easily.”

  A cocky grin began to appear on his face and I found myself thinking about how handsome he was. Rob was the kind of guy who could have any woman he wanted and probably did on a daily basis. He was fucking gorgeous and he was here wanting to be with me whatever way he could.

  I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile because he had that effect on me. The one where I wanted to swoon. “If you want points, I guess you got some.”

  “Finishing at ten again?” he asked.

  I nodded, balancing the tower of glasses against my shoulder.

  “Let’s do something.”

  “Really?” My panties totally started to soak through and things were getting hazy. The more he appeared and prodded and stared at me like I was something to eat, chipped at my willpower something fierce.

  “Abso-fucking-luty."

  Despite the raging lust I felt for Rob Hancock, I didn't expect the friendship that sparked between us. It came out of left field and slapped me around the face, leaving me nothing short of stunned.

  I'd never had a friend before, the kind of friend that listened and didn't judge. The kind of friend that you see in movies and read about in books…I thought those were all made up. There couldn't be people like that in the world, right? Humanity sucked dick, so why would someone be nice to me just because they thought I was decent? That shit was an urban myth.

  Turned out, I was the one who was delusional because Rob was all of those things and more. And true to his word, he never tried to kiss me again.

  After I finished work, he'd wait for me out back and we'd catch a cab back to the hotel and hang out for a few hours and then I'd go home. This went on every night for a week and I was beginning to forget what the inside of my shoebox apartment looked like. I had like three pieces of furniture, so nobody was missing out.

  He'd always be there, a smile on his handsome fucking face, and pull me in for a hug. I'd sink into him, breathing in the smell of his skin, pretending I didn't want to kiss him stupid, pretending that even this friendship wasn't a step too far in the wrong direction.

  We'd sit together for hours talking about his band, what it was like touring, what they'd recorded that day, all the different places he'd seen. He'd try to ask me more questions but even if I told him everything, my life wasn't as wild and beautiful as his. That's exactly what he was. Wild and beautiful. Try telling that to a man and not have him take it the wrong way.

  We'd order the most ridiculous food from the hotel kitchen. Hot dogs, hamburgers, tacos, rainbow ice-cream with sprinkles…and because he was a part of their distinguished guest list, we pretty much got whatever we wanted as long as someone paid for it. We could just pretend we were stupid kids, mucking around and not giving a crap about the outside world. That's why I didn't mind that he'd wait for me every day. Helped he was easy on the eye, but it wasn't essential.

  I could forget I was running, forget the life I'd left behind, the danger I was in, I could forget who I was and not care. I started to live for the time we could spend together. It was dangerous, but that only made it all the more thrilling.

  "What are you thinking about?" Rob asked, nudging my knee.

  We were sitting on the couch in his room. Just us and the air.

  "Lilly?"

  "Oh," I said, knowing I couldn't tell him what I was thinking because, A, it was dirty, and B, he'd totally go for it. "It's getting late. I should go."

  "You can stay," Rob said. "I don't mind."

  I glanced at the bed, then at the door.

  "I can take the couch. No problems."

  A wicked thought passed through my mind and I wasn't sure if I should voice it. I mean, we were just friends, right? It wouldn't be weird.

  Rob began to chuckle. "I always know when you have some stupid thought in your pretty head that you're afraid of telling me."

  I glared daggers at him. "What do you mean?"

  "You get all quiet and look everywhere but at me. And you make these little expressions…" He shifted closer and I felt the warmth radiate from his body. His toned, tattooed, damaged rocker body. "What are you thinking?"

  "You don't have to sleep on the sofa," I said, mesmerized. "I mean, we're friends. I'm not a prude."

  His smile faded slightly, but he said, “I like to sleep in nothing but my boxers. You trying to drive me crazy?”

  “You?” I scoffed playfully. “How about me?"

  “You’re living dangerously,” he said, unfolding his long limbs off the couch. He yanked off his T-shirt and flung it at me. Catching it against my chest, I tossed it aside as he started to unbutton his jeans and...did it just get hotter in here? I hadn’t seen him without a shirt and he was toned like he looked after himself extremely well. Not super ripped like guys on the covers of romance novels, but just right. Defined pecs, ab muscles that rippled in just the right way and that delicious v shape that guys had from their hips down to… Rob started to laugh and I realized I’d been staring right at his crotch.

  Flushing scarlet, I turned and unclasped my bra and shucked it off underneath my tank top. Then I got rid of my shorts and went to fold them in a neat pile, but my gaze caught on Rob's. He was staring at me in my top and panties and when he realized I was looking, he glanced away. I guess we could call that one even, but you know, hot guy staring at you, even though he was a friend, equaled wet panties.

  While he wasn’t looking, I slipped underneath the covers and a moment later, the mattress dipped as he took the other side. His arm settled over my waist and I buried back into his chest, kind of glad that it didn't feel awkward and kind of disappointed that he wasn't hard. Why the fuck was I even thinking that?

  "Lilly?" he murmured, his breath fluttering against my neck.

  "Yeah?"

  "I've never slept with a woman before."

  "Don't be stupid," I said, my heart skipping a beat. What, hadn't he ever had a girlfriend? Had a one night stand stay over?

  "I'm not."

  I didn't like the warmth that was spreading through my body at the thought. That I was the only one. "You've never slept in the same bed as a woman?"

  "No." His arm tightened around me and I was glad I couldn't see his expression.

  "Oh."

  "I've never been attached."

  I didn't say anything, not liking where this conversation was going. His legs tangled with mine and he sighed like he was tired, but I was wide awake. I was so awake, I was thinking of ditching him once he'd nodded off into sleepsville.

  "
Don't think too much about it," he whispered. "It doesn't mean anything."

  "Okay." Silence opened up between us in the dark room, the sounds of the street below humming in the background. "Rob?"

  "Mmmm?"

  "You don't mind me being here, do you?"

  "No."

  "I like talking to you." I like talking to you? What, was I in fifth grade with a crush on the cutest boy in school?

  Rob's thumb began stroking back and forth across my stomach and my mind instantly went to a dirty place. My vagina actually started to throb, this dull ache that I wanted to rub…that I wanted him to rub. What a hussy.

  What would he do if I turned over and pressed against him? Would he try and kiss me? Would he move his hand right to the place I was desperate to touch? Would he reject me? Was that window already well and truly closed? The more I thought about it, the more I wanted it, but it would never go that way with us. It couldn't. I'd already spent too much time with the guy and there was an attachment in the space around us. A dangerous attachment. If he knew…

  "I'm glad I was the one who found you."

  I stiffened and there was no way he could've missed it.

  "I don't know what it is," he went on. "But…I like spending time with you. You fuckin' listen, you know?"

  "And nobody else does? Not even the other guys in your band?"

  "Not anymore. Not that they mean to..."

  "I get it," I said a little too sadly. I didn't want him like that and it was for his own good, but I wasn't sure why it had to sting so much. He basically just told me I was firmly in the friend zone and it was what I wanted…I was his fucking therapist.

  Closing my eyes, I wished I could fall asleep, but I started to think about how I was only wearing a tank top and panties and I was laying against a half naked rock god and fuck me.

  Please don't think dirty thoughts. Please don't think dirty thoughts. Please don't think dirty thoughts.

  I was so amped up, when I did fall asleep it was that half awake, half dreaming state where everything is so vivid but messed up at the same time. You know its just a projection of your subconscious, but it feels so…alive. When you tell yourself not to think dirty thoughts, that's exactly what you do.