Take Me With You

by K. A. Linde

  “Hey,” I said, catching up to her.

  She smiled briefly but continued walking toward the door. “I didn’t know The Drift was going to be here. But thanks for getting me in tonight even though it ended up not being worth it.”

  “Donovan’s a dick, but that doesn’t mean you should leave,” I found myself saying.

  She stopped in her tracks, patted my cheek twice, and then smirked. “That’s sweet, but I’m not going to fuck you.”

  I cracked a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve no plans to fuck you either.”

  Honestly, I wasn’t interested in her in that way at all. Old Grant would have already fucked her but not the man I was with Ari.

  “But if you want to hang out with dudes in a band who aren’t as douchey as Donovan, then you should come to our show tomorrow night. We’re ContraBand.”

  “You sing that ‘Life Raft’ song?”

  “Yeah, that’s us.”

  She sighed heavily. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Anyway, I have to work.” She smiled forlornly. “You’re cute, Grant. But boys in bands are trouble. Find yourself a girl not jaded by them, and then don’t fuck it up.” Courtney sighed and then was gone.

  What she didn’t know was, I had already found that girl. And I would never wreck her life like Donovan had wrecked Courtney’s.

  I bounced back and forth on the balls of my feet as I stood in front of the backstage entrance.

  “Calm down,” Cheyenne said. She firmly placed her hand on my shoulder to try to get me to stop.

  It was totally not like me. But neither was road-tripping it down to Washington D.C. with my roommates to surprise Grant at ContraBand’s last show.

  Convincing them all to come with me had been a bit of a feat. Cheyenne had been in, but Shelby and Gabi had both seemed hesitant about it. I understood Gabi since it had only been two months since the breakup. However, Shelby and Miller hadn’t ever been anything official. They had been talking and sleeping together for a couple of months, and then when he’d gone on tour, they weren’t.

  Eventually, everyone had piled into Cheyenne’s SUV, and we had made our way to D.C. We’d purchased crappy cheap tickets in the back of the auditorium. It was probably the farthest I’d ever stood away from Grant during a show, except maybe at New Year’s in New York City. But we didn’t want to risk the guys seeing us. We knew all the lyrics anyway, and the acoustics were good, even in the back of the theater.

  Finally, we were flagged through backstage with a group of fans. I reveled in the carefully controlled chaos that I used to despise. Granted, these venues were much better organized than the League or the Poconos music festival.

  Cheyenne took control and marched us through the crowd of people. I saw Grant first. He was laughing at something Vin was saying, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. He was so gorgeous. It had only been two weeks since I saw him in Boston, but I was looking forward to taking him home with me this time.

  I dodged a few groupies as I rushed Grant and circled his waist.

  “Whoa!” he said, reaching for my hands to peel me off of him. Then, he seemed to realize who I was. “Ari? Oh my fucking God! What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to surprise you! I couldn’t wait for you to get home.”

  “This is the best fucking surprise.”

  His lips were on mine, and suddenly, the world dropped off. My head tilted back, my eyes closed, and I let Grant sweep me away.

  “How did you get here?” he murmured against my lips.

  “The girls drove down with me.” I pointed to them standing off to the side.

  Cheyenne was somehow already flirting with Trevor, which didn’t surprise me. He was absolutely her type. Gabi and Shelby were standing together, whispering. They both looked uncertain about how to move forward now that they were here.

  “Can’t believe you got them all to come with you.”

  “Is that Cheyenne?” Vin asked.

  I gave him a once-over. “You don’t stand a chance.”

  “I’ve already been in that, babe. No one else is going to fucking tap that.”

  “Sure.”

  Vin glared at me and marched straight over to Cheyenne. I had a feeling they’d be sleeping together before they even left the building. Cheyenne was nonchalant about her relationship with Vin, but I knew she liked him despite how much of an asshole he was. She’d kept claiming that he was different with her, but by the way they were arguing already, I wasn’t sure I believed her.

  “Well, that was easier than I’d thought,” I said.

  “You planned to piss him off to get him and Cheyenne together?”

  “They like angry sex. Trust me. I hear all about it.” I cringed. “Seriously, I can’t unhear these things.”

  “Try living with him.”

  “No, thanks.”

  Miller and McAvoy walked in at that moment.

  “Ari,” McAvoy said, giving me the nod.

  “What’s up?” Miller said. “Didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “Last-minute decision, and I brought you boys presents—kind of.”

  They looked at Grant in confusion.

  “Gabi and Shelby are here, too.”

  Miller’s smile grew, but McAvoy paled.

  “Fuck!” he mumbled.

  “You should probably talk to Amanda,” Miller said softly.

  I recoiled at the name of the girl he had been sleeping with when I was in Boston. Was that girl still around? Gabi would self-destruct if she found out.

  “Too late,” McAvoy said.

  The girl sauntered across the room, heading straight toward us. McAvoy ran a hand back through his longish hair. He seriously looked torn-up about what was about to go down, but I felt no sympathy for him. He’d broken Gabi’s heart, so he could fuck chicks on tour, and now, he was.

  As soon as she reached us, he grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. I could see Gabi assessing what was going on.

  “That’s not good,” I said.

  “No,” Grant agreed.

  Everything happened so quickly.

  The Amanda girl yelled at him. All I caught was, “Motherfucker,” before she clawed her fingernails down his cheek to the point of drawing blood. She kicked and hit him so suddenly that all McAvoy did was stand there and took her crazy.

  Security appeared a few seconds too late and hauled her, kicking and screaming, out of the venue. Gabi rushed over, concerned, and after she helped to stop the bleeding, the two of them disappeared.

  When I looked around for Shelby, I realized she and Miller were also missing. Cheyenne and Vin left a minute later, arguing with each other, which seemed to be their version of foreplay. Then, it was just Grant and me among a sea of people.

  We were the only ones actually dating…and apparently, we were the only ones not alone, trying to get it on right now.

  “That was some crazy shit,” a brunette girl said, walking straight toward us.

  Grant smiled at her as if he knew her and gave her a hug. “You made it!”

  My eyebrows rose as I got my first real look at the girl. Oh God! She was…gorgeous. There was no way around it. She could probably be a Victoria’s Secret model with her mile-long legs and in-your-face chest. I tried not to be envious of her looks and trust that there was a reasonable explanation for Grant being excited that she was here.

  “I missed the show, but I thought I’d stop by to say hey anyway. I was pissed off last night, and I wasn’t really being fair when I blew you off.”

  My cheeks heated. That sure sounded suspicious. “Um…what?” I snapped.

  Her gaze landed on me and then shifted back to Grant.

  “Oh, Courtney, this is Ari, my girlfriend.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer.

  She laughed. “So, you’ve already found the girl I see.”

  “She’s the one.”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ari.” She stuck her hand out, and I shook it, feeling uncertain.

 
“You, too. I think? How exactly do you know each other?”

  “Courtney used to date Donovan.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Ew.”

  She nodded, her head tilting back as she laughed at my reaction. “Yeah. I feel you. Biggest mistake of my life. You think you know somebody and then…it all just falls apart.”

  I bit my lip. “Well, if it’s any consolation, he’s a douche bag.”

  She burst out laughing again. “Some consolation, I suppose. Grant seems like a nice guy though. Hold on to him tight. Any guy who introduces his girlfriend to other girls while he’s on tour has to be a keeper. Trust me.”

  She gave me a knowing look. I wanted to blurt out and ask her what had happened with her and Donovan, but I managed some semblance of restraint.

  “Anyway, I guess I should see if Rid or Trev are around. Good to see you again, Grant.”

  When she was gone, I turned back to Grant. “You invited that girl to your show?”

  “I wanted to hook her up with one of the guys. She’s had it rough after Donovan. I was being helpful.”

  “That’s not really comforting.”

  He smirked and drew me into him. “I’ll comfort you tonight and every single day after I take you home with me.”

  Being back in my own house, in my own bed, was nothing short of a miracle. Being in my own house, in my own bed, with Ari was even better than that.

  I ran my hands down her flat stomach, tracing the soft curves of her body. She moaned at the lightest of touches. I had her body tuned so that my slightest touch would send shivers down her spine. My mouth closed over her erect nipple, and she arched into me. A flush covered her skin, causing her cheeks to be rosy with lust. I moved my hand back up her torso to pinch the other nipple between my fingers.

  “Oh!” she sighed.

  She still wasn’t very vocal in bed. One oh from her went a long way. My dick twitched at the thought of her arousal, which I could practically smell as I readied her for me.

  I kissed my way back up to her mouth, pressing my chest against her sensitive tits. She greedily kissed me with none of the hesitation I had expected from her six months ago. It was so fucking hot how much she wanted me and how well she responded to my touch. The nature of the kiss made my already hard dick almost painful.

  I fucking needed her body. She was my drug of choice, and like an addict, I couldn’t resist.

  “God, Grant,” she said, shifting underneath me and rubbing her pelvis against my cock that was practically springing out of my boxers.

  “I want you, Princess.” I pressed against her more firmly, and another moan escaped her lips. “Let me make you feel like a queen.”

  She assented by running her hand down my abs, and then she proceeded to circle my dick and squeeze gently. My whole body jolted at the touch. She slipped her hand into my boxers and then grasped me firmly. After a few strokes up and down, it was pretty fucking clear that I didn’t need a whole hell of a lot of foreplay.

  I needed to fuck the shit out of her. There was so much I wanted to do in that moment. I wanted to make her take it out and jack me off just to see the earnest with which she would try to make me come. God, I wanted to fuck her mouth and watch her swallow my cum.

  Rough. I wanted it rough.

  I wanted it every which way I could get it from her, but right now, my body was dying to take her mercilessly.

  I quickly stripped out of my boxers and then repositioned myself between her legs. My hands splayed out on her soft creamy inner thighs. I lightly smacked them, and her eyes flew open in surprise, but she didn’t protest. Little pink marks to match her cheeks blossomed on her skin before I covered them with my hands and spread her open for me as far as she would go.

  She peeped in protest, and I let up some but not much. My fingers traveled down between her legs, rubbing circles against her clit and then delving into her wetness.

  Fucking hell. I’d done my job.

  “I love you, Princess, but I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

  She laughed and gave me the best look in history. Sure, Grant, try it.

  I plunged into her in one swift motion, taking her fucking pussy and claiming it as I’d been doing since the day I took her virginity in December. Bending forward, I wrapped my arms around her waist and thrust deep into her. Our lips joined, our bodies lay flush together, and we remained connected more than I’d ever had with anyone else in my life.

  Her walls tightened around me, and I lifted her off the mattress and onto my lap. I bounced her up and down on my dick. The new angle pushed me deeper into her. Her nails dug into my back, and she was whimpering softly. Then, the whimpers turned into moans, and the moans turned into her coming on top of my dick.

  “Fuck, Ari!” I cried.

  Her body was tipping me over the edge, and I couldn’t stop it. She was so fucking tight that I had no control. I came hard and fast inside her.

  At the end, I was left breathless and sated—at least for the moment. We both collapsed back onto the bed with a thin sheen of sweat coating our bodies, and physical exhaustion took over as I held her in my arms. She rolled closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder. My eyes closed, and I kissed her on the top of her head. Then, I just lay there and reveled in the euphoria of the moment.

  The next thing I knew, I was waking up to the sound of someone banging on the door downstairs. Ari was still safely tucked in my arms. I kissed her shoulder before checking the time.

  Three p.m.

  Christ, we’d fucking passed out from a sex coma for three hours. How the fuck had the time slipped by so fast?

  I groggily stumbled out of bed and threw on a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt. Running a hand through my messy hair, which I seriously needed to get cut now that I was back in town, I walked down the stairs and to the front door.

  The banging started up again. I yawned, barely able to keep my eyes open after waking up from my nap. Sleeping in my bed here was so much better than on a horrible tour bus or a hotel room.

  “Coming!” I called as I approached the door.

  I unbolted the lock and swung the door inward. My body went still just as my heart rate skyrocketed. My palms were clammy, my throat closed up, and my stomach flipped. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the house…in the world.

  Despite years of training myself for this moment, I still felt horribly sick and terrified as I stood there, staring at the man who had ruined my life.

  My dad.

  A murderer.

  My mother’s murderer.

  The man who had told me that once he was out of jail, he was coming to get me.

  To kill me.

  Now, here he was.

  “Hello, Grant.”

  I reacted immediately.

  I’d told myself over and over again that when this time came, I would be ready. I wouldn’t be a frightened ten-year-old kid anymore. I would be calm and collected and do what needed to be done.

  I bolted for the side table next to the garage door and yanked open the first drawer. Before he even reacted, I had my 9mm loaded.

  I swung around and leveled the gun at his chest. “Hey, Dad.”

  “Grant?” I whispered softly as I woke up.

  I stretched out my body and yawned. Man, how long had I been out? I checked the time and groaned. We’d lost the whole afternoon, not that I was complaining. Sex with Grant had been awesome. My body was already sore from our escapades…or sexcapades, as Cheyenne liked to call them.

  I heard voices downstairs and figured he must have gone to talk to Vin or work on his music.

  Reaching over the side of the bed, I found my clothes, slipped into my yoga pants and an oversized T-shirt, and then padded out of the room.

  “Grant!” I called again, jogging down the stairs.

  I froze when I caught sight of what was going on at the bottom of the stairs. Grant and his father were in the middle of a standoff. The door was wide open, and Grant was holding his gun out in front of hi
m, pointing it straight at his father.

  Time stood still. I swayed in place. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Ari, go back into the room,” Grant said, strangely calm.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked.

  Fear prickled through every nerve ending in my body. Grant was holding a gun. If he fired that weapon, then I knew, deep down inside, that I would never find him again. He would bury the Grant I knew and loved so far inside of himself that I was afraid even I couldn’t save him.

  “Taking care of business.”

  “Grant, put the gun down!”

  “You should listen to her, son,” Mike said.

  “I won’t make the mistake of waiting for you to kill me, too.”

  He was so deadly calm and serious that it almost completely unnerved me. How could he be so confident while pointing that gun at his father’s chest? How could Grant have let it come to this?

  “Grant,” I murmured, taking a few more steps toward him. “You are better than this. Just think…if you pull that trigger, you’ll become everything you have worked so hard not to be. And you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your life.”

  “I’ll do what I have to do.”

  “You don’t have to. You barely survived the last time something traumatic happened to you. Do you think you could survive killing your own father? No matter what he has done to you, no matter how much you suffered, shooting him doesn’t bring her back.”

  “I know that,” he cried. His hands were shaking softly, but he hadn’t torn his eyes away from his dad the whole time I’d spoken to him.

  “Do you? Then, give me the gun,” I whispered.

  Tears were stinging my eyes as I stepped forward toward him. My throat was stuck as if it were stuffed with cotton balls. Here it was, all my fears coming to fruition. I’d thought that I was enough to push back his demons. But with his father standing at his door, all the good that had happened in his life disappeared. Grant was locked inside his head, trapped with the fears of his childhood.

  “I’ll give you the gun when he leaves and agrees to never come back,” Grant said flatly.

  “Is that what you want?” his dad asked.