He smiled as he crawled into bed and laid beside me. “We’re not finished, you know. I’m just giving you a breather.”
I shook my head as I sat up with limbs that felt like jelly as I straddled his body. His pubic hair tickled my ass as I laid my head on his chest.
“Can we make the breather last until late in the morning? I’m beat.”
“Of course. You do realize you’re smearing my cum on my body?”
I looked up at him and kissed his lips but he grabbed me by the back of my head and deepened it just by prying my mouth open with his tongue. As we separated from one another, I couldn’t help from glancing into his blue eyes.
“We shared a lot more body fluids tonight than your cum. Doubt we could get any dirtier than we already are,” I murmured as I ran a couple fingers along the edges of a tattoo on his chest.
“Very true.” Diablo sighed as I laid my head down on his chest again. He wrapped his arms around waist and pulled me closer. “Of all the women I have been with . . . and there has been a lot . . . why are you so special? I only want to hold you—that’s not true. I want to handcuff you to my bed and never let you go.”
“Speaking of women,” I began though my eyes wanted to close and I desired nothing but sleep. “We didn’t use a condom. That’s very dangerous in this day and age. I mean, I know I’m clean and I take birth control pills but that doesn’t stop sexually transmitted diseases.”
He laughed out loud before he kissed my forehead. “Tu es drôle, tu sais cela?”
I slapped his chest. “There is nothing funny about STDs, Adrien.”
“C’est vrai. I usually don’t sleep with women without having them checked out by our tour doctor first. It took six months into my relationship with Sorsha to stop using condoms and I still made her get tested weekly. I never have trusted women . . . occupational hazard and leftover issues from my adolescent years. You see, ma chérie, STDs frighten me as much as they do you so you can rest your pretty little American head I haven’t given you le sida or anything else unsavory.”
My eyes remained closed while I breathed out slowly. “I believe you.”
“Well, I have no reason to lie. I can’t make it to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame with the rest of my band if I pull a Kurt Cobain. I’d actually like to be at the ceremony.”
“You’re so fucking sure of yourself. Is there anything you’re doubtful about?”
He was quiet for so long, I’d almost fallen asleep when I whispered, “Only about how I feel about you and how you really feel about me.”
ALTHOUGH I SHOULD have woken up Sierra, I let her sleep.
Three hours after we’d finished up our sexcapade, I tucked her under the sheets. She rolled over and hugged the pillow as she continued to sleep before I walked to my en suite bathroom and took a shower.
Unfortunately, the lifestyle wasn’t all great times and playing killer music. There was a meeting at Damien’s about the remaining European leg of our tour before we rested a couple of weeks and went back into the studio.
Despite the whole stereotype that French people were lazy, we actually worked incredibly hard as a nation and our ethics were no different just because we were in a band. It’s the reason why I was able to fuck all night, get up after three hours of sleep, shower, dress and though I decided to walk, make the meeting at Damien’s apartment on time.
Zero was already there. He was the requisite coffee maker because he couldn’t stand that shit Damien bought from the corner markets. He’d actually bought a Keurig to put in Damien’s apartment since most band meetings were held there.
“You want some coffee, Diablo? You look like you could use some.”
I nodded and followed him into my brother’s kitchen. I put a couple cubes of sugar and milk. “Merci. After three fucking hours of sleep, I feel like a zombie from The Walking Dead.”
My best friend glared at me with those shockingly brilliant ice blue eyes before smirked. “No one told you to fuck her for hours at time. If you left her at your place, it’s not like you can’t finish her off later. We’re not leaving for Nice for another three days. There’s no rush, bro.”
I glanced at Zero and his smirk turned into frown.
“You have got to be fuckin’ kidding me. Merde! You mean this isn’t just another hook up quickie? What the hell does that chick have? A mink-lined pussy?”
“What are you two gossiping about?” Ziggy asked as he walked into the kitchen and gladly took his coffee black from a band mug Zero handed him.
“If we wanted you to know, we would tell you. Fuck off back to the living room, bro.”
It was my turn to smirk. Zero and I had always protected one another—we were each other’s voices when the other couldn’t or didn’t feel like speaking. It wouldn’t have surprised me one bit if we were actually brothers in a previous life. I got along with him a hell of lot better than I ever had with Damien.
Tricky walked in, made his coffee and took a sip before he looked from me to Zero and back again. “I won’t even ask. I’ll meet you two in the other room.”
Unlike Ziggy, Tricky was definitely the peacemaker of the band. If Ziggy was the shit disturber and band clown then both Zero and I were the fuel of the band. We could use it for good but if you pushed us hard enough, we blew and unfortunately, it wasn’t pretty. There were usually casualties in the wake of our damage. It wasn’t unheard of us to play with one of us having a black eye, bruised ribs or other damages from a fight that either him or I had caused.
Zero placed his hand on my shoulder. “What are you gonna do? Hell, it’s not like you have a lot of options. They’re leavin’ and goin’ back to the States, eventually. They’re here for three or four more weeks and after that, you’ll never see her again.”
“Fuck if I know.” I drank down my coffee though it damn near scalded my throat. “Just make me another cup of coffee. I can’t face Damien without more caffeine than I’ve consumed.”
We chose not to talk about the subject any further but instead made our way into the living room. I took a seat on an armchair that was the furthest away from Damien. My capacity for my brother’s bullshit was at an all too low. He wasn’t really going to inform us of anything we didn’t already know.
His bright blue-green eyes glared at me as he took a seat on the armchair across from me on the other side of a glass magazine table. Ziggy and Tricky sat on the sofa while Zero sat down on the loveseat.
My brother’s apartment was a lot like him, cold and not very welcoming. Not that mine was the warmest of apartments but his was sterile and didn’t seem very lived-in. I could only deduce this was because he had a full time maid and was more of a germaphobe than I was but that was neither here nor there. I only wanted him to hurry up and speak so I could get the fuck out of there.
He cleared his voice and began, “Well, as you know, the last two gigs in Nice will be the last official dates on the tour. I realize you’re all anxious to get back into the studio but you’ve been extended a few invites to music festivals. Just let me know if you’re interested—”
“You do realize we’ve been on tour for six months with very few breaks in between, don’t you?” I stated the obvious before I swigged on my coffee. “Bro, my voice sounds like shit and I need the two measly weeks we’ll get before we go back into the studio. Give us a fucking break for Christ’s sake.”
Damien stared at me with absolutely no sympathy. “Then stop screaming so much on stage and you should be fine. Take a page out of those female artists and drink some lemon tea with honey after performances instead of fucking yourself into a coma with some random groupie.”
“Give ‘em a break.” Zero sat up. “You’re not the one out there performing like we are. All you do is handle the business aspects—”
“Yes, I do, Zero. That means a lot of work you guys have absolutely no idea about. That leaves me to bring your music to the attention of award shows, weed out articles that are just junk pieces and handle every fuck up you
guys get in on tour. Who got you those interviews with Rolling Stone and Spin Magazines? Who makes sure you get on satellite radio and mainstream rock music stations all around the world? If you think I’m just sitting on my laurels then you’re welcome to replace me.”
I rolled my eyes as I swigged from my coffee. “Okay, what’s up, Damien?”
“You’ve been invited to the Las Vegas Halloween Rock Festival in October, the Jacksonville Hard Rock Extravaganza in November and the L.A. Holiday Rock Concert in December. It’s in early December so it won’t disrupt any holiday plans you have planned.”
“Where the fuck is Jacksonville?” Tricky asked no one in particular.
“Florida, dickhead.” Zero ran a hand through his nearly shaved head.
“Vegas and L.A. I’m down with but Jacksonville is pushing it,” I said before finishing my coffee and setting the cup on Damien’s spotless glass table.
“What he said,” my best friend backed me up moments later.
Ziggy shrugged. “Sure . . . as long as we get some real work done in the studio and our album is at least halfway done by the Vegas Festival.”
Tricky shook his head. “This guy over here—” My best friend pointed in Ziggy’s direction, “—is way too serious. Fuck that—I say we go regardless how far we’re into recording the new album. The Grammy nominations are what—about a month afterwards? We wanna stay relevant until the new album comes out.”
“We’re not 5 Seconds of Summer or that awful One Direction—boy bands need to stay relevant, not bands like us,” Ziggy replied.
“He’s got a point,” Zero agreed. “We’ve got a hardcore fan base that isn’t made up on hormone raged teeny boppers who will forget about us next month. I’m all for going to both places. How could you want to pass up Vegas, man?”
“Doesn’t mean you get to go crazy in Vegas or L.A., lads. I pretty much figured those would be your answer so I’ve already confirmed you’ll be at both concerts. It’s a short set—maybe five or six songs. If you’ve got some new material, feel free to use it.” Damien checked his iPad for anything else on the agenda while we all looked at each other, quite bored and ready to bolt at any given moment.
“That all?” Ziggy stood and was damn near halfway to the door before any of us had moved.
“Yeah. The rest can be talked about when we get to Nice. Have fun boys, rest up and be ready to leave in two days.”
Zero and Tricky stood and walked towards Ziggy. They were all gone within a minute but I stayed behind.
Damien looked up from his iPad. “I need to go through my email. What do you want?”
“Rien,” I murmured. “I just wanted to make sure you’ve gotten a hold of your emotions and don’t plan to attack Sierra.”
My brother laughed at me but it held no mirth. “What? Your new fuck buddy is off limits, n’est pas?”
“Ouai. I never understood your obsession with her in the first place. You know fuck all about her so I’m just makin’ sure we’re on the same page.”
“Wow, now you’re ordering me around, petit frère? Who the hell do you think you are? You know nothing about this woman, and all the sudden after one amazing night you’re fucking pussy-whipped? She’s nothing but une salope—believe me, there are plenty more where she came from.”
This time I stood and strode over to my brother. “You call her a slut one more time, and believe me, brother, we’re gonna have fuckin’ issues.”
Damien finally glared up from his iPad. “Whatever . . . issues I have to work out with that cunt is none of your concern.”
I snatched his iPad and dangled it between two fingers. “Are you sure you want to spend half the day at the Apple store today? I’ll drop this fucker and ground it on your pristine hardwood floor. I don’t give a fuck. So, what ever issues you have with her end here and now.”
His face turned an unflattering shade of crimson. “Fine. Can I have my tablet back?”
I shook my head. “Is this what you care about? How many fucking euros we make over having a serious conversation with me? I’m dead serious, Damien. She’s not to be touched or hurt—is that understood. If you’re in her presence, you’ll address her in a proper manner. And call her a derogatory name again and not only will I destroy this fucking piece of shit tablet but I’ll open your window and fling it into the Seine.”
Damien’s aquamarine eyes appraised me coldly. “You’re so much like our father, it’s ridiculous. He fell for your mother the same way and look where that got him—”
“Baise toi! It was my stripper mother that fucking raised your worthless ass. Where was your whore of mother, huh? Don’t you dare speak one more vulgar word toward either one of our parents or I just might be tempted to throw your ass in the fucking Seine after I beat the shit out of you.” I dropped his iPad in his lap and backed away from him before I truly harmed him.
“How can you sit there and talk about your girlfriend’s best friend like that? You keep testing me and don’t dare think I won’t fuck up your cozy little situation with Angelina. It’s no skin off my back.”
“Go ahead. I used Angie to get close to Sierra. She’s no great love of my life so you would be doing me a favor.”
“You are seriously fucked in the head, Damien. Who ever screwed you up did a real number on you. I wish I knew what was really bothering you but . . . on second thought, life’s too fucking short.” I turned and walked out of Damien’s apartment but not before I thought I heard him exclaim, “Ask that whore warming your bed!”
My blood boiled and all I wanted to do was get away from my brother before I did something I would regret for the rest of my life.
I ARRIVED BACK to my apartment in time to find Sierra dressed in one of Breathless Eternity’s concert shirts and making herself comfortable in my kitchen while listening to Breaking Benjamin’s “The Diary of Jane.” She never heard me enter as I snuck up behind her.
She had placed butter on a healthy piece of a baguette while she cooked scrambled eggs and ham in a pan. I kissed her neck and wrapped my arms around her.
Her hazel-green eyes met mine quickly before she turned back to her culinary masterpiece. “Very funny, Adrien. I could smell your cologne. You hungry? I’m no Wolfgang Puck but I’m not completely useless in the kitchen.”
“Well, as long as it’s not a convenience. If you can make a decent omelet then I promise to make it up to you later.”
“One omelet coming up.” She began to futz around the kitchen and that’s when I noticed she’d made a full pot of coffee.
“Oh, and that huge Breathless Eternity mug full of coffee. Light on milk and sugar. I need at least another cup after facing my annoying fucking brother.”
Sierra grabbed the mug, poured coffee and brought it over to me before she placed the dish of sugar cubes and the container of milk on the table with a spoon.
“Don’t take offense but I know how I like my coffee and I will personally murder the person who messes with my caffeine.” She winked at me. “I’ll let you fix it the way you like.”
“Thanks.” I grabbed the sugar and dropped three cubes inside of the brew while adding enough milk for it to change from inky black to almost a medium brown. As I lifted my lips to the tasty beverage, I could see my instincts were right; Sierra’s coffee was a hell of a lot stronger than the Keurig brew or even what I usually made when left to fend for myself.
Moments later, she set my omelet down in front of me with a sexy, “Voila.”
“Merci,” I replied automatically, realizing my lack of the sleep the night before couldn’t be drunk into submission, no matter how much caffeine I consumed.
“Je crois qu'il sera adapté à ton appétit.” She sat across from me and began to devour her lukewarm baguette sandwich while I marveled at her addressing me in my native language.
“I didn’t know you knew French so . . . well,” I replied after I dug into my omelet and placed it in my mouth.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me and
the same goes for me about you. My minor was French and I had to study here at a university in Lyon for a year. Talk about baptism by fire.” She continued to eat her baguette but those mesmerizing hazel-green eyes were fixed on me.
“I want to share so much with you, and in due time, we will . . . but after I get you into my bed again—”
“You mean the one your housekeeper recently changed the duvet and the sheets this morning?” Sierra’s eyebrows arched with a dash of humor. “I couldn’t possibly . . .”
“Who said we had to fuck in a bed? It’s quite provincial, don’t you think? I mean we have the whole apartment at our disposal.”
“That we do.”
There was silence between us as we finished our breakfast and I drank down almost a whole cup of coffee. My bladder had started to give me signs it wouldn’t be long before I’d have to make a dash to the bathroom.
Something in her eyes disturbed me and I wanted to get it out of her before I left the table. “What’s the matter? I can see concern on your face.”
She drank from her coffee and set the mug down on the table. “I’m not a fool, Adrien. In two days, you leave for Nice and the girls and I will be heading to Cannes. It sucks that this whole . . . hookup between us is just that. You don’t think I wouldn’t like to spend more time with you or get to know the real you?” Sierra bit on her lower lip before she sighed out loud. “I don’t do random one night stands and I sure as fuck didn’t mean to come off as a groupie. My cousin is in a band so I know how it goes but this all just seems like such bad fucking timing.”
I smiled wryly at her. “Says who? You were not a casual hookup or a one night stand and don’t think of yourself that way. Ever. I want to get to know you too. Nice is just for almost a week, and then the tour is over. Stay here until I return and we can talk about where we go from here. Just promise me one thing . . . please don’t leave me until we know what we want out of this. I never meant to just abandon you. You’ve touched something inside me—a place I thought was frozen and would never be reached again, tu comprends?”
Sympathy For Diablo (Breathless Eternity #1) Page 10
