by Hazel Jacobs
She’s completely powerless. And she loves it.
Dash tucks his arm around her waist, pulls her up so that her back is flush against his chest, shifting his legs beneath her so she’s straddling him and she can feel the hard lines of him beneath her pussy. She’s starting to feel even more desperate as she grinds down.
“Don’t,” he hisses
She shudders and stops, forcing herself to keep her throbbing lower half still as Dash drops a few splashes of whiskey down her front, chasing it with his lips, sucking as he goes.
“Dash…”
Four years of college with an English major, and that’s the only word she’s capable of saying. Dash doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seems to like it. He runs his hand over her stomach and then down to run his fingertips under the edge of her lace underwear. Tessa leans her head back and feels herself spiral just from the carnal surge of wanting him. Needing him
“Get on your back, Tess.”
She does what he says without hesitating.
Powerless.
He presses her into the mattress and wraps her hair around his wrist. Suddenly, he pulls on her hair before dipping his head down and biting her neck with a deep groan escaping his chest. Tessa wants to run her nails down his back, his arms, anything. But he hasn’t told her to, and it seems without his permission she can’t do anything. It’s like he’s tapped into the part of her brain that controls her limbs, and now she can only move when he asks her to.
She knew that sex with Dash would be something special, but she hadn’t thought that it would consume her so completely.
Dash licks at the edge of her panties, and she shivers. She thinks that she might be pushed over the edge by the warmth of his tongue alone. Then he looks up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, and Tessa can’t speak.
“You smell like you want to be fucked. I think we’re about ready.”
Ready for what? She wants to ask. Instead, she just nods and hopes to every deity she can think of that it involves him taking his pants off.
Before Dash can speak again, someone knocks on the door and the pair of them pause. They don’t freeze because they’re not teenagers, fucking while their parents are in the house, but because it feels like a bucket of ice water has been splashed over them bringing each of them back to reality.
“We’re fucking busy,” Dash roars over his shoulder.
Tessa snorts, and he grins down at her. In that moment, the dark dominant side she’d gotten from him is gone, and he’s back to being her Dash again. They’re sharing a joke like they always do. The fact that she’s sticky with whiskey and shirtless in his bed doesn’t change that.
Tommy’s voice comes through the door. “Yeah. Are you guys gonna finish this cake or can I eat the batter?”
Dash frowns and looks over at the door, pulling away briefly from Tessa. “Dude, are you high?”
“Maybe…”
Dash sighs. Then he looks down at Tessa. “I really want to punch him right now,” he says.
Tessa sighs too. Her body had been heating up, and she thinks that in a few more seconds she would have been beyond the point of no return. It would have been harder to stop if he had finally gotten his shirt off too. Dash’s actions have gotten her all hot and bothered, and it’s annoying that they’ve been interrupted right before the good part. But as it is, if they’re going to stop, now’s the time.
“Tommy, we are baking the cake,” Tessa says.
“Okay, but, like… when will the cake be baked?”
Dash wipes a hand over his face and turns to open the door, giving Tessa a few moments to put her shirt on. He screws the lid back onto the whiskey. Then he opens the door and says, “Hold on, we’re coming.”
“I wish,” Tessa mutters under her breath as she follows him out of the bedroom.
Tessa wakes up curled up in the blankets and beanbags in the game room, with Sersha on one side of her, Mikayla on the other, and Harper hanging off of the edge of the couch behind them. Tessa turns her head a little so that she can see the television. It’s stuck on the menu screen for Dirty Dancing. Tessa vaguely remembers watching up until the scene where Baby got the money from her father. She must have fallen asleep after that.
Beside her, Mikayla snuffles a little. She looks adorable in her blue pajamas, so different from her usual attire, and her hair up in a loose bun.
Tessa had been surprised when the three other women had piled into the games room downstairs and dragged her into their cuddle pile as well.
“We’ve got popcorn and a movie,” Harper had said, patting the spot next to her, and snuggling up next to Mikayla. “The boys are doing music stuff, I think?”
“Shouldn’t you be helping?” Tessa had asked Sersha.
Sersha shrugs. “It’s movie night. Tommy can manage without me.”
So they fell together, first watching Flashdance, then switching to Fame and Dirty Dancing. The women had fallen asleep one by one. Mikayla had started snoring sometime during Fame, while Sersha and Harper had lasted through the first half an hour of Dirty Dancing.
Tessa was glad to have some company on her first night in the brownstone, even if it hadn’t been the company she would have preferred. Tessa’s still frustrated from earlier.
Speaking of… she glances at her phone, pulling it out of the pocket of her pajama pants.
D: i was gunna join u but u seemd 2 cozy
Tessa purses her lips and types.
Tessa: Wish you had. You look like you like a good spooner.
D: ur not wrong there ;)
Tessa: How long do you think it would have taken you to get bored with Fame?
D: excuse u thats our jam
D: wish we hadnt been intrupted earlier
Tessa feels her breath stutter in her chest as she reads his words.
Tessa: Yeah, me too.
D: u want to no what i would have done if we hadnt been intruptd
Tessa: Not while I’m surrounded by the girls, I don’t.
D: u sayin u cant control urself
Tessa: I know exactly how quickly this can turn in your favor, Dash. I’m not about to let you seduce me in a room full of girls I’ve just met.
D: get up and go to the bathroom
Tessa blinks at the screen, reading the instructions again. It seems like less of an instruction and more like an order, but she finds herself following it regardless. She removes herself from the blankets, making sure not to wake either of the girls beside her. She has a pretty good idea of what Dash has up his sleeve, and she doesn’t know how she could explain what she’s going to do if any of the others wakes up.
There’s a small bathroom on the opposite side of the room. It looks like it was put in by someone who was only about thirty percent sure of what they were doing. Probably shoved in as an afterthought because the guys didn’t like going upstairs to pee in-between their gaming marathons.
There’s a mirror, a sink, and a toilet in the corner.
“Okay,” she mutters while closing and locking the door behind herself.
She takes a moment to look at her mess of bedhead and types quickly into her phone.
Tessa: Okay, I’m in the bathroom.
D: Strip down
Tessa does as he says, stripping off her pajamas.
D: take a picture and show me
Tessa raises her phone so it’s angled up to the mirror, taking a picture of her whole body, and sending it to him before she can change her mind. A small voice in her head tells her that he could be sharing this with the other boys, but she dismisses it.
It takes a moment for his reply to come.
D: gorgeous
D: now make a video of running ur hand over ur body
She does it. She does everything he tells her, following order after order as he describes what she must do. Tessa can feel herself getting hotter and hotter as she reads his texts, enjoying the sense of danger she feels when she thinks of the girls in the other room.
D: if we hadnt b
een intrupted today i would have licked u all over
D: imagine that ur hand is my tongue
Tessa: Fuck, Dash…
D: Can you feel me tasting you all over?
Tessa doesn’t even realize that he’s asking a question, at first. Her breath is coming in shorter and shorter gasps. Tessa quickly types back.
Tessa: Yessss.
D: i no how to take care of u baby
D: use ur thum on ur clit and dip a finger in
Tessa is starting to feel herself getting close.
All of a sudden she receives a photo of Dash’s long, thick cock, fully erect and leaking. She recognizes his hand clutched around it, and he’s clearly moving it from the slight blur.
Before she can enjoy the sight of it, she gets another message.
D: take a video of u coming
D: i want to see u fall apart tess
Tessa can’t help the shuddering groan that escapes her lips when she finally feels herself clench around her fingers. After a couple of seconds poised in the flood of pleasure, she leans back against the door, gasping, and sends the video.
There’s a few minutes before he replies.
He’s probably watched it once or twice.
Finally, she receives another text.
D: Fuckkkkkk
D: I want to see you taste urself baby
She can’t cover up the groan, but she can muffle it so that the other girls in the games room don’t hear her.
Finally, when she’s done licking her finger, she stops recording before sliding down the door, so she’s sitting naked on the tile floor. She sends the video. By the time she gets a reply, she’s finally starting to get her breathing under control. There’s a picture of Dash’s cock, still pink and half-hard, clearly having just climaxed himself if the mess on his thigh is anything to go by.
D: next time i get the chance im gonna make u fkn scream
Tessa feels a giddy smile curling over her lips. Dash had gotten a bit dominant in a couple of their sessions before, but this is the first time that she can imagine his face while she’s touching herself. It feels good. It had made her channel her own pleasure a little easier, and it was sexy as hell to imagine the way his lips might have moved to give her those orders. The sound of his voice had been playing in her mind while she’d been working over her body.
Tessa: I can’t wait :*
D: :* goodnight gorgeous
Tessa: Night, D.
But it takes a few more minutes before Tessa’s legs work well enough for her to get up and put her clothes back on.
“So, Slate… why don’t we start with your full name?”
“Nope!” Slate says cheerfully, tapping out a rhythm on his thigh with a pair of drumsticks, grinning at Tessa.
Tessa cocks her head. “But… okay, fine. We’ll start somewhere else. Where did you grow up?”
They’re sitting in the green room at Radio City, waiting for the show to start. Tessa is sitting in front of Slate, her laptop open in front of her and a bucket of chicken on the table. The boys are getting ready. Logan is sitting across the room with Mikayla on his lap, his arms wrapped around her as he works on finalizing the set list while she taps at her tablet. Tommy and Sersha have their heads bent over a notebook, as usual. Harper has Dash doing push-ups. Apparently, he has a lot of nervous energy before shows and so Harper makes him do reps to get rid of the tension. Tessa had found herself staring at him as he pushed himself off of the ground so effortlessly, imagining what it would be like to lay beneath him.
So she’s sat with Slate, opened her laptop, and tried to start an interview which isn’t going well.
“I grew up in America’s armpit. There’s no need to bring it up… it’s only going to make people bored.”
“Hmm,” Tessa says, unimpressed. “You know I need to have this information so I can do my job, right?”
“I know,” Slate replies. He gives her a sympathetic smile. “You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve been deflecting since I was in high school. It’s kind of my thing.”
“Okay?”
“Hey… would you like to know how I met Mik?” Slate asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “Not to brag, but I’m literally the entire reason that she’s here.”
“I know. Dash told me.”
“Pfft. Dash wasn’t even there. You’re going to interview Mik, right? And Harper and Sersh?”
“I wasn’t sure if I should,” Tessa replies. She runs her hand absently over her skirt, the only professional skirt she owns. It’s going to be mangy as hell by the time her first month with the band is over. “The article is supposed to be about the band.”
“Yeah, but the girls are in the band,” Slate says. He leans over to grab a piece of chicken and takes a big bite. “They’re not on stage, but we couldn’t do this without them.”
Harper sends her boyfriend a fond look from where she’s standing over Dash with her hands on her hips.
Tessa taps out that sentence and asks, “Do you mind if I quote you on that?”
He has a mouthful of chicken, but he shakes his head. It takes him a few seconds to swallow. “Quote me on whatever you like… just don’t get me arrested.”
“Are you… doing things that could get you arrested?”
“Not recently,” he says, sniffing slightly and rubbing his hands together like he’s brushing something off of them. “Plus, like, you know what’s appropriate and what’s not. We trust you not to get us in trouble.”
“That’s very brave of you,” Tessa says. She shifts in her seat and tries to bring the conversation back to the topic at hand. “You were also the one who brought Tommy into the band, weren’t you?” she asks.
He hums in agreement. “Dude was a poet. We needed lyrics. Before that, we were doing shitty covers and playing songs that Dash wrote. There’s only so many ‘moons’ and ‘Junes’ a guy can sing before he starts to go crazy.”
Tessa nods along with him as she takes notes. She’s a damn fast typist thanks to years of lectures when she would take notes at the speed of light, catching everything her professor said so that she could justify the expense of tuition.
“Are you seriously typing all of this? It sounds like you’re just mashing the keyboard.”
“I’m typing,” she says. “So you’ve got… kind of a reputation for collecting people.”
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “I guess. I like people.”
“What was it about Tommy that drew you to him?”
Slate smirks and takes another bite of chicken, sending a lecherous grin over at Tommy. “He’s just so pretty.”
Tommy doesn’t look up, but he does give Slate the finger. Sersha doesn’t look up either. Instead, she just raises her thumb in Slate’s direction.
Tessa makes a note of the interaction. Not because she’s planning on bringing it up in the interview. Mostly just to remind herself of how in sync these people are. Sersha has only been with them for a few months, and she’d practically moved her arm in a mirror-image of Tommy’s, raising it at the exact same time as he did without looking up or even seeming to be aware of the fact that her boyfriend was moving. Tessa wonders what it must be like to be so deeply connected with someone that your movements have synced up. She gets that sometimes with her brothers and sisters, and with her dad. But to have a romance with that kind of closeness? That must be something special.
“Was it something in his lyrics?” Tessa prompts. “Maybe a particular line?”
Slate’s smirk drops, and he frowns thoughtfully. His face taking a faraway look as he twirls his drumsticks.
“You know, now that you mention it. It was one of the lines in the poem he was writing. I even remember it. Isn’t that weird? It was… Drawing blood with a pen, speaking words like razor blades. I remember because, at the time, it was just so fucking extra, you know? I was deep in my scene phase at that point, and Tommy’s poems were super deep.”
Tessa nods along to encourage him. As she types, worki
ng hard to make her fingers as light as possible so she doesn’t interrupt him, she sees his face almost begin to glaze over as he loses himself to the memory.
“It’s been a long time since I thought about that.” He purses his lips, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I remember… it was maths? Yeah, it was maths. I remember because we were supposed to be working on triangles, and he was writing too much. So I looked over his shoulder and just… fell in love, I guess.” He looks up at her when he says it and quirks his lips. Then, he turns his head toward Tommy. “I love you, Tommy.”
“Love you, too,” Tommy replies without hesitating. He actually takes his eyes off of his notebook when he says it, turning to give Slate a smile when he does.
“And I love you, Logan.”
“Love you too, man.”
“And I love you, Dash.”
“If you really loved me, you’d give your girlfriend something to do besides giving me reps.”
Tessa snorts and quickly covers herself up. She’s trying so hard to be professional right now. Tessa has never seen a professional writer at work before—probably because they’re so few and far between—but she wants to do well. She wants to be remembered at the end of this job for getting the work done as efficiently and diligently as possible.
She can’t let Dash distract her. Not when she’s doing interviews backstage, at least.
They didn’t end up picking up where they’d left off. After Tommy had interrupted them, she and Dash had gone downstairs to finish baking the cake batter that they’d abandoned. Dash had gone back to being her flirty, dorky best friend, as though he hadn’t just spent several long minutes licking whiskey off of her body. Her bra had reeked of it afterward.
That night, she’d fallen asleep downstairs in the gaming room and dreamed of walking up to Dash’s bedroom and slipping between those gray sheets. Or, better, of Dash slipping between her sheets and finishing what he’d started earlier that day.
