Blame it on the Tequila

by Fiona Cole

  His hard cock stood tall when he leaned back onto his haunches, finally releasing my thigh, and I could think of nothing else but wanting to return the favor.

  “Good morning,” he finally greeted me.

  Instead of saying it back, I moved quickly, pushing him back against the wall of the van.

  “Here I was thinking you’d be more relaxed after an orgasm.”

  “I want more.”

  His hand snaked into my hair, holding me in place so he could kiss me and let me taste myself on his lips. “By all means, take what you want,” he murmured.

  Despite my orgasm, I wasn’t any less eager to have him. Need pulsed like a beast inside me, and I sucked, kissed, and bit my way down his body. I sucked the soft head of his cock between my lips when I finally reached where it laid against his abs, moving to leave sucking kisses down his shaft until I reached his balls.

  Gripping his thick length in my hands, I stroked my thumb along his piercing, sucking one ball into my mouth and then the other. I held his heavy-lidded gaze and dragged my tongue from base to tip, returning the favor of teasing. His abs flexed as I stroked the tip of my tongue around the metal and flicked between the slit on his head. He growled when I wrapped just my lips along the tip and gave a sucking kiss, but not going further.

  I moved back down to tease but didn’t get far. He grunted and drove a fist into my hair, pulling me back up. I met his wild eyes with a challenge in mine. His fingers tightened, and the sting only turned me on more. His other hand wrapped around mine, where I gripped his dick, directing it to my lips to paint them with the precum leaking free.

  “Put my cock in your mouth, Nova,” he ordered softly—almost dangerously. I knew he’d never force me or hurt me, but I liked how on edge he was.

  I lashed the tip with my tongue before sliding across my lips to collect his flavor. “Make me,” I whispered.

  “Fuck.”

  With that, he jerked me forward and pushed my head down at the same time as he thrust up, both of us groaning. He didn’t push far because of his piercing but did push against my throat. He had control for only a few thrusts before I took over, done with teasing and just wanting to feel him stretching my mouth, pushing against my tongue, tasting him. I twisted and stroked my hand to meet my lips and closed my eyes, losing myself to his groans and grumbled swear words.

  His breathing picked up, and when I was sure he’d spill in my mouth, he pushed me back, moving so quick I could barely keep up. He flipped me over to my stomach and got behind me. When I heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper, I reached my hand back and stopped him.

  “I’ve got us covered,” I explained when his brows pinched together.

  His jaw dropped. “I’ve-I’ve never—” he stuttered.

  “I want to feel you, Parker. I want to feel all of you inside me.”

  “Fuck, yes,” he breathed, snapping back into action.

  He gripped my hips, pulling me up to my knees, but leaving my chest to the mattress, and lined himself up.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Please,” I begged.

  Swiping his head through my folds, coating himself in me, teasing my clit before finally pushing in. Just the head and back out, again and again until I wanted to beat my fist against the bed and scream.

  “Parker,” I growled through gritted teeth. I tried to push back, but his hands held me in place.

  With a laugh, he kept one hand on my hip, and the other slid up my spine, pushing me into the mattress more as he eased inside—fucking finally.

  I whimpered at the intrusion, desperate to move but unable to. He curled around me and inched out and back in, slowly at first. But when I started pulsing around him, he gave in. I shifted to all fours, trying to gain purchase against his rough thrusts, crying out with each one. Looking over my shoulder, I watched him stare down at where he fucked me, his abs contracting into a perfect rippled six-pack. His tongue slicked over his lips, and I needed more. I needed to be closer.

  Pushing up, I reached back, rising to my knees and twisting to get his lips under mine. He groaned into my mouth, and I fed off his pleasure, feeding him my own whimpers when he palmed my breasts and tweaked my nipples.

  “You are so warm—so wet,” he breathed against my skin. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum.”

  “Yes. Please.”

  “Look at you, getting fucked raw, begging for my cum. All with the doors open for anyone to see.”

  I flicked my eyes outside, knowing no one was there, but liking the extra shot of adrenaline at the thought of someone out there.

  “They’re probably watching these perfect little tits bounce from how hard your pussy is taking my cock.”

  “Oh, god,” I whimpered. He knew how much it turned me on—he knew my fantasies.

  “They’d be so hard from watching you they’d have to get their dick out and stroke it, imagining what it feels like to be inside you—imagining what it would feel like to tongue fuck your sweet cunt.”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “Would you let them, sweet Nova?” he asked, his hand skimming down to between my folds. “Would you let them eat your pussy while I fucked you?”

  I should have been embarrassed—ashamed, but with Parker, I could always be me—honest and free. So, when he tapped my clit, I didn’t hold back. “Yes,” I whimpered.

  He groaned, pushing in harder—deeper. “I have a confession.”

  “Tell me,” I pleaded.

  “I’d like it too,” he whispered. “I like the idea of you in my arms as someone else touches you. Because they can touch, because I allow them to. Because even if they can touch and taste, I know you’re mine.”

  Pressing my forehead to his cheek, I gave over to him. “I’m all yours.”

  He gave another slap to my pussy, and I came again, this time harder and more intense. Everything faded, and I almost fell forward, but Parker held me tight, fucking up into my spasming pussy, chasing his own orgasm. I started floating back to earth just as he started coming. He slowed to powerful, hard thrusts, spilling his cum inside me, holding onto me with a bruising grip, groaning his pleasure into my skin.

  We both collapsed forward into a heap. He slipped free and looked for a shirt to clean up with while I relished in the feel of his orgasm slipping from between my legs. Needing to see it, I got up to my elbows and had a whole other tremor rack my body at seeing the sticky fluid coating my thighs. I reached down, dragging my fingers through the mess—our mess.

  “Jesus fucking Christ. There’s never been anything sexier,” Parker muttered.

  He watched me, a white shirt in his fist. Falling back, I arched my back and dragged my wet fingers up my body and around my nipple.

  “Fuuuuck.” He rolled to face me, leaning down to suck the wetness from my nipple while he cleaned between my legs.

  He kissed his way up my neck to my mouth, where I got the slightest taste of the both of us—tangy and salty and so much Parker. It was perfect. A few more soft kisses, and he brushed his nose against mine before just looking at me.

  “You, Nova Hearst, are everything.”

  That look. His words spoken with awe. His arms holding me safe. His body over mine. All of it seeped like warm chocolate through my veins.

  “Parker.” I barely breathed his name, scared of what I would say next if I put too much force behind his name.

  I love you.

  He smiled and delivered one last peck. “I’m going to go make breakfast. We need to fuel up because I’m going to need to fuck you again. A few times.”

  I watched him get up and pull on sweatpants that hung precariously on his hips. Rolling to my side, I smiled, wanting to watch him all day.

  “Why don’t you go paint?” he suggested.

  I looked over my shoulder, finally taking in the beauty of the morning. It matched the beautiful feeling shaping inside me. It’d been there all along but in disarray until I could finally gather the pieces enough to put it together. Maybe pain
ting would help me sort out the last bit and clarify what to do next.

  I grabbed the first thing I could find, which ended up being a pair of baggy denim overalls, and tossed them on, grabbing my items and heading out.

  With the first stroke of my brush to the canvas, something already began to ease inside me.

  I didn’t poke or prod at it, instead losing myself to the colors and blend and sounds around me.

  Music reached through the open doors of the van, and Parker’s voice followed, slipping in place.

  This my mind whispered. This is what we’ve searched for.

  I’d run for so long from one thing to the next, always pulling back and holding a part of myself by the door in case I needed to run, but I didn’t want to anymore.

  I didn’t want to live scared.

  Fear hadn’t been the driving force behind my decision to remain private, but I always knew it played a role. I never wanted it to rule me, so I ignored it. But ignoring it didn’t make it any less real, and I needed to face it if I wanted to step forward with my business—with Parker.

  I loved him.

  I loved him enough to at least give everything I had to try. And to do that, I needed to bring both feet through the door.

  “Scrambled eggs and bacon, my lady.” Parker set the plate down with a bow before checking out my painting. “It’s just missing one thing,” he declared. And just like he had all those years ago in my room, he grabbed a brush, dipped it in a color, and placed an inconspicuous dot somewhere in the painting. Making it our art. “Perfect.”

  He plopped down, and I couldn’t help but stare at every little move he made as if seeing him for the first time—this time with both eyes open, fully facing him rather than half turned away.

  “You okay?” he asked around a bite of bacon.

  “Yeah.” I blinked, snapping out of my daze. “Just still baffled how you can eat that.” I pointed at his plate, and the same disgusting grape jelly smeared all over it.

  “It’s delicious. I think it’s the cheese that really makes it,” he said around a big bite.

  “So fucking gross.” But still, I smiled because it was one of the first memories I’d created with him, and every time I saw him on tour eating it, I couldn’t help but smile.

  We sat in our folding chairs, enjoying our eggs and bacon in the unusually warm weather, in the middle of a desert. No one was around but us, and all I could think about was when we got back. With a deep breath, I closed another door on any chance of backing out. “Will you take me on a date when we get home?”

  He faced me slowly, my words so much more than asking him on a date, and he knew it. “Are you sure?”

  The hope in his eyes lit a fire in my heart, and I couldn’t help but smile and nod. “Yeah. I want you, and it may take some work, but you’re worth it, and I’m done losing you. I want to be wined and dined by the Parker Callahan.”

  His answering smile was everything. “I can do that.”

  “But let’s take it slow, okay?” He tipped his head, not understanding. “Can we maybe try low-key places—maybe keep things quiet for now? Give a little time for the Sonia debacle to settle.”

  “Of course,” he answered easily. “This life isn’t for everyone, but I think if we both work at it, we can make it for us. We can meet halfway.”

  “I can do halfway.”

  He smiled through the rest of breakfast, and I couldn’t help but smile right along with him. Before he got up to throw everything away, he took a deep breath like he wanted to say something big, too.

  I froze, bracing for the impact of whatever had him looking so cautious.

  “Listen, I know this is like giving an inch and taking a mile, but I was wondering if…” Another deep breath and his hand shot through his hair. “I was wondering if you could go to the Grammys with me?”

  “Uhhh…” I didn’t want to turn down his first offer, but that was also one of the biggest, most public events to go to.

  “No red carpet. You could meet me inside at the table,” he rushed to explain.

  I considered my options. The Grammys were in a month. A lot could change. And the idea of skipping the cameras and questions was very appealing. It also gave me time to move forward with Aiken’s plan and slowly start revealing Nova Hearst to the world—or at least those interested in me.

  “I think I can do that,” I finally answered.

  “If you can’t, I understand. I know it’s a lot. I would just…love to have you by my side. I’ve never gone with anyone I really cared about.”

  I remembered how jealous I was when I saw the pictures of him and Sonia walking the red carpet last year, and a petty part of me jumped for joy that he hadn’t really cared if she was there.

  “We’ll take it slow, and I’ll make a plan, but I can do that.”

  He beamed brighter than the sun, making any nerves one-hundred-percent worth it. “Like I said, everything.”

  Twenty-Six

  Nova

  I dated more in the past three weeks than I had in my entire life. I imagined this is what the women on The Bachelor felt like. Exclusive dates in a different city every few days. Figuring out creative ways to remain isolated, which sometimes led to extravagant dates like a hot air balloon picnic or bungee jumping. Although the guys came with us on that one. All squeezed in between traveling and shows.

  It’d kind of been the most amazing three weeks of my life. When we’d come back from our trip, boarding the bus hand in hand, everyone had been sitting around, including some of the crew. They’d taken one look at us, and a mix of cheers and groans followed. I’d been thoroughly confused until everyone started pulling out their wallets and exchanging money. Apparently, a bet had been going on for a while.

  It’d been…nice. Almost too good to be true. The intrusive thought reared its head at random, and I shoved it away each time, living for the moment.

  Like tonight. We got into Chicago this morning, and the guys had practice, but the night was ours before the show tomorrow. Parker was wining and dining me like a true date. I’d bought a special dress approved by the girls.

  He’s gonna fuck you so hard in that. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Rae practically squealed when I told her about our trip and that I finally gave in to him. Vera smiled like the caring friend but tagged on that she also wanted to hear all about it. A pang struck my chest, and I made a note to FaceTime them tomorrow.

  Another pang hit me, but this one was full of nerves. Chicago was the biggest city we’d been to, and Parker had a restaurant he was dying to take me to. He apparently knew the chef and had gotten us a private reservation. I’d been sharing more on my Instagram, receiving lots of exclamation points in the emails from Aiken, but I had yet to show my full face.

  The latest one, in particular, might as well have painted a target on my back. I’d stood, decked out in my hiking gear, in front of the tour bus with my hat pulled low. Oren and Ash flipping the camera off in the background had been a dead giveaway as to who I was writing music with. I posted it yesterday morning, and already countless articles commented.

  After three weeks of things going great with Parker and me, I felt confident in starting the process of tying myself to him. He’d stood his ground with Sonia when Aspen tried to make him take it all back. He stood by me. I trusted he wouldn’t leave me to deal with the fallout. I trusted he wouldn’t hurt me.

  But with the added pressure of my last post, my caution with being in a big city with lots of photographers waiting for the band skyrocketed.

  “You just have to make it in and out, and no one knows we’re coming. Once we’re there, we have a private table away from prying eyes,” he said to me in the back of the car.

  I could have laughed at how he was basically giving me a pep talk like it was game day. All we were missing was a dry erase board with Xs and Os and lines laying out our plan.

  Turned out we hadn’t needed one because we made it in without issue. Sure, there were murmurs as we pa
ssed patrons already seated, but photographers didn’t pop out like Jack-in-the-boxes. And the dinner had been fabulous, the company even better. We’d shared a tiramisu I could have married, but with each bite, my nerves spiked again, knowing we still had to make it back out.

  When Parker noticed my growing anxiety, he ordered a couple shots of tequila. We talked until my limbs relaxed, and nothing mattered but getting back to our hotel to follow up on the filthy promises he whispered across the table.

  “You look ridiculously stunning.” His eyes scraped across my cleavage where the deep vee of my beaded dress barely clung to my curves.

  More heat surged through my veins, and I finished off my last drink. “I think I’m ready to go now.”

  “Thank god.”

  We kept our heads down, and I realized the one downside of a sparkling dress and chunky ankle boots that added enough height to bring me closer to Parker’s—everyone saw me. But I cared less with the tequila and desire bubbling to the surface. It was the only excuse I had for why I turned and smiled when a flash went off just before we reached the SUV.

  Parker followed me into the car and blinked with eyes just as wide as mine. We sat frozen, staring at each other while I replayed what I’d just done.

  “I blame it on the tequila,” I whispered.

  It broke the tension, and we both burst out laughing—mine just held an edge of panic to it.

  “I can see your head spinning,” Parker murmured. He shifted to face me, sliding his hand over my knee and up my thigh. “Let me distract you.”

  By the time we reached the hotel, Parker had my panties in his pocket and my lipstick smeared on his mouth. My carefully crafted messy bun actually looked like a messy bun, and despite the orgasm he just gave me, I was more eager than ever to get upstairs.

  Another photographer waited for us at the hotel, but this time I ducked my head. I couldn’t hide the blush staining my cheeks at our disheveled appearance.