Phoenix Rising: Issue #1 (Pretty Boy Rock Series)

by S R Watson

  “I can share one with you, but it isn’t finished.”

  “Okay,” she beams.

  “It’s titled ‘Leave it All Behind.’” I look around one more time to make sure nobody else is around. I blow out a cleansing breath and share a piece of my soul—as personal as it gets for me.

  I keep telling myself it's the last time

  Each time it proves to be a lie

  The darkness pulls me deeper into the shadows

  It won't let me see the light.

  It's a never-ending battle that I can't seem to win,

  Maybe one day I'll defeat the devil...

  The monster that lives within.

  I want to leave it all behind

  I want to leave it all behind

  I want to leave it all behind

  Take back control... Make my escape from these demons I face.

  This is my warning to you.

  This is your chance to be free.

  Don't give in to the hunger I crave

  because I can't be sated.

  Harlow

  Oh. My. God. I’m speechless. Everything about that song has touched me deeply. Without the music as a distraction, for the first time, I just hear him. The sultriness of his voice is so different from anything I’ve ever heard him perform on stage or even that day he was practicing with the guys. This is personal. I can feel the pain in those lyrics, a confession of sorts. Someone in his past has hurt him too and may be the reason he has a thing against relationships. I don’t want to ruin the moment by prying into his past or the reason for the song, so I don’t mention it. Phoenix has such a beautiful voice and I have no doubt in my mind that, coupled with the band’s instrumental genius, they will make it far. Tears spill down my cheeks.

  “That was so beautiful, Phoenix.”

  “Yeah? Thank you. I’m sure it will be even better once the guys hear it, and we put it to music.” Wait, what?

  “You haven’t shared this with the band?”

  “Nope. You’re the first.” He stands up and puts his hands in his pockets as he looks around. “I don’t normally share my music with anyone, Harlow, until the song is complete. It’s a private process. When I’m done, I work closely with the guys to lay tracks to the lyrics that I’ve written.” I’m even more touched now. Whether he realizes it or not, Phoenix just chose to share a part of himself with me that nobody else gets to see.

  “Why me?” And what does this mean, but I don’t ask that.

  “You know, I don’t actually know.” He shakes his head as if he is trying to figure it out himself. “Maybe because you shared this place with me. It’s different. I haven’t really spent much time with women outside of fucking. It’s nice,” he admits. He writes it off as being caught up in the moment of experiencing something different, but I don’t believe that. Things are changing between us, and it’s not in the direction he intended. He is softly tapping on the brakes, hoping I won’t notice—that I won’t get offended. I see what’s in your heart, Phoenix. You showed it to me. Someone did a number on you, but that girl is not me. I wish I could say these things, but I can’t since I don’t even know what I want. I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.

  “Yeah, maybe.” I keep my internal monologue to myself. It’s starting to get darker, so I know our time in this bubble has come to an end. They’ll be closing soon.

  “So when are you coming back to the lake house?” We walk back to the bike, and I’m happy to see my backpack is still there. We left it there since we didn’t drop it off at the dorms. Nothing important was in there anyway—just clothes and toiletries.

  “I can come down on Saturday. Sorry, I have a study group session on Friday.”

  “Who in the hell plans a study session on a Friday night?” he jokes. “You need to get a life, babe.”

  “Ha-ha. Funny. We have a huge history test coming up on Monday. The group opted to meet and study to get it out of the way, so they can party on Saturday and rest on Sunday,” I explain.

  “Hmm. That makes sense, I guess. Still, studying on a Friday night sucks.”

  “Yeah, but it has to be done. Anyway, like I said. I can come on Saturday.”

  “Meh. Don’t worry about it. Maybe we can shoot for the weekend after that.” He gets on the motorcycle and hands me the helmet. To say I’m disappointed I won’t be seeing him this coming weekend is an understatement. I climb on the back of the bike and grab him around the waist as he takes off. So while I’m fucking studying history this coming weekend, he’ll probably be enjoying the company of someone else. By the time I see him again, he will probably have moved on from whatever this is. Maybe it’s for the better. No expectations mean no disappointments. And just like that, my mood has turned sour. This is exactly what I didn’t want.

  I can feel the doubts gnawing at me, telling me I’m not good enough. Why wait for someone who is staying an hour away, when he can have his pick of pussy anytime he wants it? I’m not foolish enough to think I’m that special. There is no question what will transpire next weekend if he even waits that long.

  I think I just ripped my own fucking heart out with that reality check, and I don’t want him to witness that. When the bike comes to a rolling stop. I quickly thank him for a great weekend and for sharing his song with me before racing into the dorms.

  Chapter Nine

  Harlow

  I awake to Irelyn shaking me. “Get up, woman. You have some explaining to do.” What the hell? What time is it?

  “It’s a little after seven. Now get up.” I swear I’m going to murder her. I stayed up and continued studying for that history exam long after everybody wrapped up. I was planning on sleeping in. Irelyn yanks the cover off me and stands at the foot of my bed with her hands on her hips. “You have been holding out on me.”

  “What?” I asked, puzzled. I try to reach for the cover, but it isn’t any use.

  “I’m talking about Phoenix. Mr. Hottie-and-I-know-it-and-I-still-fucked-Sasha-Phoenix.”

  “Can you tell me why you’re waking me up so damn early to talk about Phoenix?” What did she hear? Did somebody describe to her the guy who picked me up and dropped me off last weekend and figured out it was him?

  “Because he’s downstairs in our lobby, that’s why.”

  “What?” Okay, that got my attention. I jump out of bed. “You’re lying.”

  “You little slut. You totally fucked him,” Irelyn accuses. “When were you planning to tell me? It was last weekend, wasn’t it? When you went to the lake house by yourself.”

  “Yes. Alright? Keep your voice down.” I don’t bother lying. Once she gets on something, she is like a dog with a bone. I was going to tell her anyway. We just haven’t had much alone time. Right now, I’m more curious to see what Phoenix is doing here.

  “Go, woman, but we’re going to talk,” she chastises. I give my appearance a quick check in the mirror. I pull my hair in a ponytail to tame the bedhead and run to our community bathroom to brush my teeth. It’s early, so there is no wait to use it. My tank top and sleep shorts are borderline inappropriate due to my plentiful assets, but he has seen me in less. I give myself one more look over and decide; this will have to do.

  When I get downstairs, Phoenix stands there looking like a wet dream. Really, it’s unfair that he looks this gorgeous this early in the morning. He is wearing a shirt that says Flex Till Your Famous—No Sleeve Gap and jeans. There are definitely no sleeve gaps around those guns, and the famous part is just a matter of time.

  “Morning, beautiful,” he says immediately upon seeing me.

  “Morning, sexy.” I grin. To think I’ve fretted all week with scenarios of what he would be getting into this weekend, or shall I say whom, and now here he is. “You guys didn’t perform at the bar last night?”

  “We did,” he says cryptically.

  “And you still rode an hour out here to come get me, I’m guessing?” Aren’t you tired?”

  “Meh. I slept enough. And I am here to get
you, just not to take you to the lake house.” Okay, now I’m confused.

  “Oh, no? Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see. Go get dressed. I’m starting by taking you to breakfast.”

  “Do I need to pack anything?”

  “Nope,” he answers simply.

  “Okay, oh cryptic one,” I joke. He laughs and tells me to get a move on. It doesn’t take me long to shower and get dressed. I’m not sure where we’re going, but he is dressed casually, so I put on jeans and a V-neck shirt. The girls are partially on display. He should get a kick out of that—both because I am actually showing a bit of skin in public and because I think he is a tit man. When I walk back downstairs, he is staring out of the window, deep in thought.

  “A penny for your thoughts?” I ask.

  “Hmm. You don’t want to be in my head, babe. You’d be traumatized by what you find in there.” He winks. “Come on. Let’s get going.”

  Breakfast is an experience, especially for a broke college student. We had eggs Benedict and mimosas on the terrace of some quaint little restaurant. It sure as hell feels like a date, but I won’t ruin the moment with assumptions. I'm waiting to see just what he has planned for us. We spend the next couple of hours taking a walk in the park, having a late lunch, and then finally a visit to an art museum. Phoenix tells me the guys would laugh him out of town if they knew of his appreciation for art. He likes sculptures, too. I agree that everything is so beautiful. One particular painting of a crying woman catches my eye. The pain in her features is evident, but her posturing is at odds with the tears.

  I see strength. These are the last tears I will shed type of strength. The associated price tag is unbelievable. It’s almost twenty grand. Well, I hope someone else gets it. It’s an amazing masterpiece. The day we have shared together can without question be considered a date, but I’m sure he is not classifying it as such. The day flies by, and I hate to see it come to an end. He has another gig tonight in a few hours, so I know he has to leave soon. The drive back will take him an hour. As we head out of the museum and toward his bike, he says what I have been thinking.

  “I have to get back, but I have one last surprise for you,” Phoenix hints.

  “Yeah? What is it?” I ask excitedly.

  “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, nosy.” I cross my arms, but he is not persuaded to give me any details. Instead, we get on his bike and ride for what seems like ages. We finally come to a stop at a boutique-style hotel, and I don’t know what to think. So the big surprise is a visit to a hotel. Clearly, he is looking to finish what we started last weekend.

  “What a nice surprise,” I finally say, mildly intrigued.

  “You’ll see,” he comments while parking. “Come on.” When we get inside the hotel, he heads straight toward the concierge, and they discuss his reservation.

  “Enjoy the rest of your day, sweets.” He winks.

  “What do you mean?” Is he leaving me here?

  “This is George,” he responds, pointing at the concierge guy. “He is going to take care of you this afternoon, starting with an hour massage.” He smiles, and I just want to kiss his face off.

  “What?” I ask again. I just can’t believe he is doing this for me. Phoenix is anything but romantic. Not to mention his self-proclaimed aversion to relationships and dating. His actions today are a direct contradiction to his proclamation.

  “Swedish massage, facial, pedicure, and manicure, ma’am,” George clarifies.

  “Yes. What he said.” Phoenix grins. “I’ll be back after our show tonight. After you’re all pampered and relaxed, I’m going to get you all worked up again,” he promises.

  “I think I like this plan of yours,” I agree. I will be ready for him when he gets back.

  “Glad to hear it,” he admits. “See you later.” He turns and leaves, while George tells me to follow him. He escorts me to the hotel spa and introduces me to Hilda. He runs down the list of services that I’m to receive, and she nods her understanding. The experience is amazing. I’m given a place to change out of my clothes and then given some infused water. I’m massaged and polished with Dead Sea mud and seaweed. My skin feels so soft and supple. Now, I’m ready for tonight. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have imagined I’d be where I am sexually. Up until this summer, I repelled any man who tried to get close to me.

  My body craved Phoenix from the beginning. I just wasn’t willing to listen. After arriving on campus and not having anyone come close to eliciting those feelings, I decided to throw caution to the wind. Tonight, I will do just that.

  When Phoenix gets back, it’s late. He finds me asleep on the bed wearing nothing but the hotel bathrobe. I’m awakened by him crawling into bed with me and loosening the robe.

  “I waited for you,” I say groggily. “What time is it?”

  “Just after two.” He continues to open my robe until I’m bare to him. The room is dark with the exception of the moonlight shining through the sheer curtains, peeking through the blackout drapes. “I had to ditch the guys, and they still wanted to know where I was going.”

  “Jeez. And you call me nosy. You didn’t tell them, did you?”

  “Are you kidding me? Are you trying to get me lynched by my balls? Asher would kill me.” He chuckles. “No. They think I’m meeting up with some random chick from the show.”

  “Nice,” I say sarcastically. This is just sex, and I know it. So why does a pang of jealousy rip through me that we have to hide what we’re doing? The reality is that I’m just a hookup even though I’m not random.

  “Get out of your head. It’s just something I let them think. My dick was semi-hard all night, thinking about what I had waiting on me.”

  “Mm-hmm,” I say doubtfully.

  He hovers over me and leans down until his lips are mere inches from mine. He licks the seam of my lips, and it’s surprisingly erotic. It’s his thing. My tongue sneaks out to meet his, and he greedily captures it and deepens the kiss. Our kiss is passionate and sensual. My body comes alive in his arms as he owns me with just his lips. He sits up to pull his shirt off, and the moonlight dances across his abs. A thought crosses my mind, and I decide to run with it. I push my robe off the rest of the way before sitting up on my knees. I tug at his jeans, and my intent is clear. He helps me pull them off. No surprise, he is commando. I just make out his cock, but I don’t have to see it in the light to know that it’s beautiful. This is huge for me, but I need to taste him. When the jeans are completely off and on the floor, he lays back and puts his hands behind his head. His cock stands proudly as it waits for my attention. I grasp him and bend at the waist to get reacquainted with his engorged dick. I swirl my tongue around the head before taking him deeper. I can feel his legs tense underneath him. He is too big to deep throat to the base, so I use my hand to stroke him while I suck. He’s clean-shaven and his dick is so smooth. I can feel my pussy getting wetter every second.

  I moan around his dick, and his hips buck.

  “Holy fuck,” he groans. He grabs my head and begins to push my mouth up and down on him—controlling the tempo. His enthusiasm sparks mine. I roll my tongue along the shaft while massaging his balls. I find the vein on the dorsal side, underneath the tip, and give it a little tongue play. I’m enjoying every inch of his cock. “Baby, I’m about to come,” he warns. I stroke him faster and continue sucking him toward his release. He explodes in my mouth, and I still can’t find it in me to part with his dick. I refuse to stop as his legs shake, and I swallow every drop. In a flash, he flips me to my back. He expertly fingers me with a vigorous massage to my clit.

  “Phoeeeeeenix,” I cry out. His fucking fingers are magic. I can only hold on for the ride.

  “Come for me, baby. Give it to me.” The lust his voice is thick and such a turn-on. His skillful fingers continue their assault until he milks an orgasm from me. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages. I’m lying here in the afterglow when he buries his face between my thighs to start round two. Hi
s tongue is every bit as magical as his fingers. He twirls that talented tongue slowly around my clit, and I can feel the buildup start again. I arch my back as he sucks on it. This man knows exactly the delicious torture he is bringing me.

  I grab his hair as my own legs begin to shake. His tongue delves deeper into my opening as he enjoys me losing control. He inserts a finger and makes the “come here” motion. With the crook of his finger, I come in waves. Holy shit.

  “Somebody likes that,” he teases. I can’t even respond because I’m still in an orgasmic trance. “I have so many ways to make you come. It’s going to be fun showing you just how,” he promises. He reaches for his pants at the end of the bed and slides on the condom he retrieves. I watch in complete fascination at the lengthening of his cock. How could it possibly get any bigger? He strokes it for my viewing pleasure in the dimness of the room. The act itself is erotic foreplay, knowing he is hard because of me. When he gets out of bed, I’m confused. He summons me to join him, so I follow suit. I’m not out of bed fully before he is spinning me around to face it.

  “What…?” The question dies on my lips.

  “Head down, baby, and ass up.” He uses a hand to guide me into the position that he speaks of. I place my hands forward on the bed and bend over; my pussy pools in preparation for him. He slaps my ass a couple of times, and the sting only creates more wetness. “So fucking beautiful,” he praises.

  I feel him nudging at my folds, and I can hardly stand the wait. He’s playing with me.