The Stronger, Safer Kind (The Boys of DownCrash #1) (new adult contemporary rockstar romance)

by Casey, London

  I had to move to my toes as I continued to throb and grind against Tripp’s fingers. He stayed with me the entire time.

  When I found my breath, I managed to whisper, “Oh… fuck… Tripp…”

  “What’s wrong, Scarlett?” he asked.

  “I can’t stop,” I said. “It won’t stop.”

  “Don’t let it,” he said.

  His fingers left my slit and next thing I knew, I was in the air. I cried out, hating Tripp for not fingering me as I came, but then I realized he was carrying me. He stood me against a table, right next to a stack of guitars. I saw the entire band setup. My body ached. Tripp used one hand and cleared the table, sending pens, papers, guitar picks, cables, everything falling to the floor.

  Was he going to fuck me on the table?

  His hands pulled at my pants and panties, forcing them down.

  Yes, he was…

  I kicked my shoes off and hurried to wrestle my way out of my pants and panties. Tripp put his hands to my bare ass and lifted me on the table. He looked down at my exposed lower half. I was wet and ready. He used the same hand and fingers to pleasure me, fingering me hard and fast, just like before, as he started to take his pants off. I put my hands to the table and thrust at him, teasing him, wanting him to go faster.

  He dropped his jeans his first and then forced his boxers down. His thickness popped free, standing thick and tall.

  “Oh, fuck,” I whispered again, remembering just what Tripp felt like inside me.

  His fingers came out of me just as he touched me with his erection. I cried out and with a grunt, he entered me. I again gripped his arms, holding tight, loving his tattoos but loving him inside me more.

  He leaned forward and put his left hand to the wall for balance. His other hand touched my lower back and pushed. It opened me more, putting my body at a better angle.

  Tripp moved fast and with a force that left my body in a constant state of orgasmic feeling. I put my head back for a second to cry out and I felt Tripp’s tongue against my neck. He kissed up to my chin and then I met his lips, kissing him. The kiss was fast and hot, just like the sex. Tripp’s hand tickled up my back, over my shirt, and he gripped the back of my neck, holding me in place as we kissed.

  Between the thrusting and the kissing, my body couldn’t keep up. I tried to thrust back at him but Tripp was in complete control. My body was along for the pleasure filled ride and nothing more. We grunted and groaned as we kissed, tasting each other’s breaths and pleasure.

  He sped up some more and the table started to tap against the wall. The legs scratched the floor as it started to move. I felt like the table was going to break but Tripp didn’t care.

  “Fuck, Scarlett,” Tripp growled, “I can’t control myself.”

  “Then don’t,” I said.

  His hand left my neck and grabbed my shirt. He pulled it up, all the way to my chin. He kissed my chest, his tongue fast and perfect, slithering down to my breasts. He lifted my shirt and unsnapped my bra. I came again. I throbbed against him as he thrust at me. His hand cupped my left breast and he moved my bra out of the way. He kissed my nipple and then his tongue circled. My body couldn’t take anymore but had to. Tripp grazed his teeth along my nipple and I cried his name.

  He held me.

  He kissed me.

  He fucked me.

  I turned my head and saw his hand was now a fist against the wall, shaking with erotic fury. I leaned forward and took advantage of Tripp as I started to kiss his bicep. My tongue licked along his sexy ink and that only made his tongue move faster on my chest.

  When he finally let my shirt go, he was at my neck again and came up to my ear.

  “Fuck,” he growled again.

  I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck and thrust as hard as I could at him, feeling him ready to explode. Only a few seconds later, he did. His hand went down to my lower back again, holding me in place. He gently lowered his speed, leaving all he could inside me. Then he stopped, still inside me, and we began to kiss again. My left hand was in his hair, my right hand touching his arm. I pretended I could feel his tattoos, loving them. He put his right hand to my neck again and took his left hand off the wall. He reached under my shirt and touched my right breast. I was so tender, everywhere, that I groaned and jumped.

  “Scarlett… oh fuck…”

  “Tripp,” I whispered. “You have no idea.”

  “I have an idea,” he said and smiled. “Trust me, I have an idea.”

  He slowly slid out of me and then picked up his pants. He was breathing heavy. I reached behind myself and snapped my bra back in place. I adjusted as I needed to, then jumped from the table. When I reached for my pants, Tripp was there first.

  “Hey,” I said.

  Tripp had a devilish grin on his face. “You can have these… that’s it.” He took the purple panties from my pants and handed me the pants.

  “You’re keeping my panties?” I asked.

  “I told you I wanted these,” he said.

  “I thought on me.”

  “They’re so much hotter off you,” he said and kissed me.

  He slipped his tongue back into my mouth, his right hand touching my hip. I was ready to go again, not that I could ever get enough of Tripp, but I had to break the kiss.

  “Wait a second,” I said. “Now it’s my turn. Tell me about your tattoos.”

  “Okay,” Tripp said. “But first I need a drink.”

  He walked away, putting my panties into his pocket. He jumped and kicked one of the cymbals on the drum set and almost fell when he landed.

  I put my pants on, feeling uncomfortable without panties.

  I tried to tell myself that Tripp was going to go get a bottle of water.

  But I knew that was a lie… the sex was great, but the pain was greater. That was something both Tripp and I knew.

  16

  We were in his loft, Tripp standing against the wall, sipping from a black flask. He kept putting the top on, twisting it tight, putting the flask on a night stand, acting as though he was going to convince himself that enough was enough with drinking.

  I sat on his bed, just watching him.

  He was beautiful. A beautiful guy. Deeper than anyone I had ever met and I barely knew anything about him.

  “Start talking,” I said.

  “About?”

  “The ink,” I said. “I kept my part of the deal…”

  I pointed to the lamp next to his bed where he had so lovingly put my panties. My cheeks burned every time I looked at them because it was something that a week ago would have never happened. I would have never let someone tell me what panties to wear, let alone let them tear them from me and keep them.

  But something about Tripp… it just felt right and good.

  Tripp pushed from the wall and stumbled towards me. He looked down at me with a stare that made me weak in the knees. My eyes threw back the same bad intentions but I wanted to know about his tattoos. I stood up, my eyes never leaving his. I grabbed the bottom of his sleeveless shirt and took it off him. My hands touched his shoulders and down his chest to his pants.

  I kissed his heart where the tattoo of the heart and thorn filled vine was.

  “Tell me about this one first,” I whispered.

  “No,” he said. “Pick another first.”

  I looked at the tattoo closer, seeing initials bleeding from the heart.

  TS

  They were Tripp’s initials - Tripp Sage.

  I looked to his shoulder.

  “Just explain them,” I said. “Your shoulder is full of stuff.”

  “Not stuff,” Tripp said. “They’re all parts of me. I have black angel wings because of what they mean. The darkness of pain but the hope of love.”

  I touched the wings and sighed.

  They were beautiful.

  “And this one was my first. It’s a pocket watch with no hands on the clock. The chain wraps around and becomes part of my arm here…”

 
Tripp turned his arm and the chain was tattooed like it cut into his arm. It was amazing work.

  “Why no hands?” I asked.

  Tripp looked at me. “Because I refuse to believe in time. I believe in moments.”

  I swallowed.

  I had nothing to say to that.

  “And then the rest of my arm I just got filled in with stuff I like. Things that have meaning. My music. Writing songs. The band. Here, this was our first logo…”

  On the back of his arm, there was a DC tattoo with the C hanging from the D. It was kind of silly, but Tripp didn’t mind it.

  “You got your band tattooed on you?” I asked.

  “Of course. Why not?”

  “What if you guys break up?”

  “What if we don’t?”

  I looked to Tripp’s other arm. It was a wicked black tribal tattoo that went from halfway down his arm up to his shoulder and to his chest. The black lines were accented with a blood red drop shadow.

  “What’s the meaning there?” I asked.

  Tripp looked down. “I like the design.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it. Do you have any tattoos?”

  “No,” I said. “Never thought of it before really.”

  I set my eyes back on Tripp’s left arm. There was so much to see. I enjoyed how all the pieces came together. Each one had its own story but together it didn’t look like a mess. I looked around to the back of his arm and to his shoulder. I saw another tattoo of two hands together like they were praying. Only they weren’t the same hands. One was larger than the other.

  “What’s that one?” I asked.

  “The hands?”

  I nodded.

  “Just something.”

  It wasn’t just something. I touched Tripp’s chest, the tattoo of the heart and thorns.

  “Do they both mean the same thing?” I asked.

  “Maybe they do,” Tripp said.

  He reached to the night stand for the flask. I grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

  “Tripp… it’s okay,” I said. “If there’s anything…”

  “I already told you,” he said, twisting his wrist to break from me, “when you’re ready then I’m ready.”

  “I have no tattoos or stories,” I said. “Look…”

  I lifted my shirt and showed my stomach and the bottom of my bra.

  “Not all scars can be seen,” Tripp said and threw his head back for another drink.

  I came forward again and kissed his chest. I felt him hesitate like he was going to toss me aside for touching the tattoo but he didn’t.

  “I’m sorry for whatever happened to you,” I whispered.

  “I’m sorry too,” he said. “For you.”

  I closed my eyes, feeling the emotion of the moment trying to get the best of me.

  Scarlett… this is the fun of secrets… if we tell anyone our secret, then everyone will get hurt. You don’t want anyone hurt, do you? Scarlett? Do you?

  I cleared my throat and took a deep breath.

  I understood why Tripp drank.

  I had the urge to drink right then too but I held off.

  “Thanks for telling me about your tattoos,” I said.

  “Thanks for your panties,” Tripp replied. “When can I see you again?”

  “Whenever you want,” I said. “I sort of have to go right now. I need to see if Maggie’s friend is okay and I need to finish a paper.”

  “College sucks,” Tripp said.

  “You’re in it though.”

  “Only for the chicks.”

  I shook my head. I almost said something but held back. I could see the look in Tripp’s eyes, he wanted me to say something. But if I did, wouldn’t that imply a relationship? I wasn’t in a relationship though. I was single. And I was supposed to be thinking… making a decision about Andy. Yet my hands were touching Tripp’s chest, my right pointer finger drawing along the heart tattoo.

  It pained me a little to know that technically Tripp could bring another girl over and fuck her tonight. He could go play a show and have ten girls. He could have anyone he wanted, without trouble, because I wasn’t his girlfriend. I was just…

  “Scarlett,” he said. He touched my cheek and traced my jaw. “Look at me.”

  I did. My eyes were glazed over and I prayed that a tear wouldn’t fall.

  “You need to know how beautiful you are,” he said. “I would never share my space with anyone. But with you… you don’t take up that much space, you know? It’s like we sort of are so much alike, it’s just cool.”

  Just cool.

  I liked that.

  My mind could wrap around that.

  My heart couldn’t.

  My heart twisted a little more. And with each painful twist I felt my hand slipping away from Andy and gripping Tripp tighter.

  I really needed a drink.

  17

  My economics paper was finally done and my date with Andy had finally come. One of those I was more excited about than the other. I wanted to go to Maggie for advice but she didn’t know the whole story and she wouldn’t understand. There was nothing anyone could do or say, I had to face the decision that waited somewhere in my mind.

  Andy sent me a few texts, telling me how excited he was to finally take me out to a nice place. An actual date. With a real dinner. With no friends. Nothing to get in our way. I took it for what it was worth and told him I promise I would turn my cell phone off while we were out.

  Maggie’s only input was that I don’t dress too provocative, not wanting to send Andy the wrong signals. And there in lies something to hate about a date with a friend or whatever situation I found myself in. I had to monitor my clothing choices? Because my clothes meant more than my words or actions?

  By the time I got into the bathroom to finish my hair, I was frustrated. I finally just closed the door and looked in the mirror. Funny, it made me think of Tripp. How he begged me to look in the mirror. I knew what he meant by it. To actually see myself. Just myself. Part of me did. I thought about high school. When Andy and I became friends. There was no pressure and nothing ever implied about us getting together. Anything that happened was natural and casual and we went with it.

  Scarlett… I love that name… Scarlett…

  I blinked. I refused to close my eyes and let the nightmare come back. I refused to let him come back.

  He touches my hair, stroking it top to bottom. Tomorrow, I’m going to cut my hair. Shave my head. Never have hair again. Ever. Ever. Ever…

  I touched my hair. It was a lot longer now, not quite as long as it had been when I got my haircut. That shocked my mother. She always thought I’d grow my hair down to my backside, which I did plan. But plans change. People can change plans. People can change everything.

  Andy didn’t say a bad word about my haircut. A lot of people did. They didn’t like it. Fuck them, though. Not Andy. He was the same old Andy. Andy was everything. He held me, hugged me, loved me, touched me, he did everything I needed. He knew what I needed and how I needed it. For all those years.

  I touched my chest, my heart racing. Andy was everything in my life. Definitely then. Maybe now. Tripp meant a lot to me too, but at what capacity? Was he just some tattooed fantasy to enjoy? I could almost feel Tripp’s hands against my back and ass, lifting me to the table, thrusting deep into me… but was that enough in life?

  It felt like a lot to handle but I stayed with it. Staring in the mirror. Looking at my face, my eyes, and beyond all of it.

  Maggie’s knock at the door broke it all up.

  “Yeah?” I called out.

  “Andy is here,” Maggie said.

  “Open the door.”

  She did and peeked in. “Sorry. I don’t know the protocol for all this.”

  “For what?”

  “Well… you’re going on a date with Andy. Should I treat him like a date?”

  “It’s Andy. Treat him as Andy.”

  “Okay.”

  Maggi
e disappeared and I grabbed my brush. Time to get ready and get the night moving forward. I felt frustrated again and Maggie just proved why. If Andy and I were together, would everyone we know treat us differently? We’d be the couple then. And if we had an argument… a fight… if we broke up…

  “Wow, look at you.”

  I jumped and dropped my brush into the sink.

  “Andy, shit,” I said, looking at him as he stood in the doorway to the bathroom. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Sorry. Couldn’t wait to see you.”

  I eyed him, not wanting to, but needing to. He dressed casual. Black shoes. Jeans. A nice button down shirt. The usual kind of attire for Andy. Not to mention the tangibles he couldn’t get rid of… his perfect jaw, thin lips, kind eyes, and sexy black glasses.

  I set my attention back to my brush, telling myself not to eye fuck him while trying to make this decision.

  Andy stepped into the bathroom and kicked the door shut.

  I jumped again and watched as he walked towards me, smiling. The aura in the bathroom changed from friendly and casual to oozing with sexual intention. I had nothing against it until Andy put his hands to my hips.

  My mind heard the door slamming again.

  The look on his face.

  No, I didn’t want it to be like this…

  “Scarlett,” Andy said. “I’m happy we’re doing this. Even if it means nothing, you know?”

  I looked in the mirror at Andy but I wasn’t in the bathroom anymore.

  The closet door slams. I jump. No more hiding. He likes hiding. He loves hiding. It’s more fun that way. He tells me that. He touches my sides. I want to be upset but I have to take what I can get. He could have touched my chest, like he’s done before…

  “I just hope,” Andy said, my mind focusing back on him, “that something comes from it.”

  Andy lowered himself and nuzzled his nose against my ear. He’d never been aggressive like this. I realized then he wasn’t just taking me out on a date. He was making his move. Making his stance.

  His nose touched my cheek and I sighed. I closed my eyes, trying to get lost for a second. Just to see what it would feel like…

  He smells my hair. He always smells my hair first. I tell myself that’s all it’s going to be this time. But it’s not. It’s never just that. His nose and cheek touches my cheek. He whispers a groan and places his body against mine. I feel him. I feel it. The thing. Whatever it is. Between his legs. I feel…