Hot Mess: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players #1)
Page 34
“Way better. You know I’m not a musician. But… I think I get what you’re saying.”
“Think of it as your beating heart,” he said. “Your blood and guts and soul, in twenty songs.”
“Hmm. Okay.”
“You’ll do it?”
“Make you a playlist of the twenty songs I would rock, heart and soul, if I actually knew how to rock?”
“Yeah. That.”
“For sure.” I grinned. The fact that he wanted music from me, in any form, was a thrill. “I just hope you don’t hate my taste in music…”
“Doubtful,” he said. “I try to keep an open mind when it comes to music. There’s very little music I hate. The only music I’ve ever heard and hated was a song without a soul.”
I mused on that for a moment. “A song without a soul… I like that. You’re very poetic.”
“I try.”
“Are you gonna make a playlist for me, too?”
“Oh. Yeah.” He pulled out his phone and swiped around. “There you go.”
“Huh?”
“I just sent it to you.” He tucked his phone away again.
“You already had your deathbed playlist locked and loaded?”
“Yup. Good thing, too. You don’t wanna check out without that in the time capsule.”
I shook my head, but grinned. “So…” I asked him, “how are things going with your new band?”
“Okay,” he said. “I mean, we haven’t released our first single or won any Grammys just yet, but we’re plugging along. Just trying to figure out the lineup, recruit the right people to join us.”
“You and Summer? That’s all you’ve got so far?”
“Yeah.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “You don’t sound too impressed.”
“Oh… No, I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t mean it like, ‘Is that all you’ve got, you loser?’” He snorted and I smiled. I liked making him laugh that snorty, chuckly laugh of his. “I just wanted to make sure I was up to speed on the latest.”
“That’s pretty much it. We’ve thrown out a feeler to a few musicians we’d love to work with, but so far nothing has come through.” He went silent for a moment. “Turns out putting together a band at thirty-one is different than doing it at twenty-one or seventeen. It’s kinda messy. I guess the good news is everyone’s more experienced, probably more skilled. We’ve all got more to offer. But it’s kind of like dating. Getting into a new relationship. It’s more complicated now. Everybody’s got baggage to bring into it. Breakups with other bands to go through, that kind of shit.”
“And… your breakup with Summer…” I wasn’t sure how to ask, exactly, but I wondered. “You don’t think it’ll cause any problems within the band?”
He shook his head. “Summer and I have a friendship that’s more important than any breakup we went through. I’m counting on that, and I know she counts on that, too. As long as we’re equally invested, shouldn’t be a problem.”
“And how do you know you’re equally invested with a bandmate?”
“You don’t,” he said. “You never do until things get rough, usually. When things are going well, everyone’s pumped to be there. When things go bad, when there’s disappointment or struggle… That’s when you find out who’s really in it with you.”
“So time will tell?”
“Pretty much.”
“But obviously… you trust her?”
“Yeah, I trust her,” he said.
Okay, I wasn’t gonna lie to myself. I felt a little uncomfortable hearing that, even though I knew I probably shouldn’t.
If he had a thing for her, he’d hardly be here with me, telling me about her right now, right?
“Then that’s good,” I said. “I’m sure if that’s the case, it’ll work out for you guys.”
“I hope so.”
“And how’s everything else?” I asked.
“Everything?”
“Yeah. Like how are your other friends? Dylan? How’s his tour going?”
“Great. His girlfriend is on tour with him, so I’m sure he’s got no complaints right about now.”
“Amber, right?” He’d mentioned her a few times, pretty much every time he’d mentioned Dylan. They all seemed really close.
“That’s her,” he said, eying me. “How do you remember all this?”
“Because it’s important to you.”
He just stared at me.
“Are you going back out to meet them on tour again?” I asked. “Planning any more shows?”
“Not anytime soon.”
“So when will you see Dylan again?”
“Couple months. The whole band is coming back to Vancouver in August. I’ll see them all at Brody and Jessa’s wedding. Brody is Dirty’s manager, and Jessa is one their songwriters.”
“Ooh, a wedding,” I teased. “You know you’re not supposed to mention that to a girl you just started seeing, right? Because now you’re stuck with the awkward She-knows-about-the-wedding and Do-I-invite-her-or-do-I-not thing.”
He gave me a weird little smile, but didn’t laugh… and I felt like an idiot.
Shit—why did I say that? Now I’d just made the She-knows-about-the-wedding and Do-I-invite-her-or-do-I-not thing more uncomfortable.
“So… uh, Brody and Jessa fell in love while they were working together or something?” I asked, steering us away from the awkward.
“Nope. According to Dylan, they fell in love when they were teenagers. But they just finally got together and had a baby last year.”
“Wow. It sounds like the whole band is really tight, then? I guess that’s the best way for a band to be?”
“Definitely. When you tour with a band, you become family whether you want to or not. You can either be a fucked-up, dysfunctional, toxic family or a more healthy version that actually loves the fuck out of each other and respects each other. Dirty has that. I’d pretty much kill for that at this point in my career.”
“I’m sure you’ll find it.”
“I hope so.”
“And what about other relationships?” I asked, diving right in. He was being so open. He’d always been so open about these things.
“What other relationships?”
“Well,” I said, “from what you told me at our first dinner meeting, it sounded like you’d been on quite a roll last year. A whole series of heartbreaks… Is that normal for you?”
“No. It’s not. Luckily I’ve managed to steer clear for the last… seven months or so.” He crossed his fingers in the air. “Really holding out for a solid year of sanity.”
I laughed. “Good luck with that.”
“Seriously,” he said, fixing his blue eyes on me. “I don’t do love anymore.”
Sure you don’t.
I almost said it, but then bit my tongue.
“What does that mean?” I asked him instead, even though I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.
Even when people said they didn’t want love or they didn’t believe in love or they were never going to love again… they didn’t really mean it, right?
Everyone wanted love. Everyone needed love.
In fact, the people who said things like that were probably the ones who needed it most.
“It means I’m not falling in love with anyone again,” he said.
“Do you know you sound like a million love songs when you say that?” I teased.
“It never works out for me,” he said, unfazed.
“Now you sound like a sad love song.”
“Maybe so. But I’m not sad. Just realistic.”
“Nope,” I said. “Not realistic. I already told you. You just keep falling in love with the wrong people. That’s all.”
“That’s all, huh?”
“Yup.”
“So who’s the right person?” His eyes moved over my face. “You?”
And when he looked at me like that, my heart beat heavily in my chest.
I swallowed. “I can’t tell you how to
feel about me, Ashley. But, I mean, if you’re asking me… Yeah, I’d say I’m pretty lovable. As lovable as the next girl, anyway.”
“I wouldn’t say that’s true. Some people are far more lovable than others.”
“But how lovable can they really be, anyway, if they don’t love you back?”
“I guess it’s irrelevant. I’m not interested in falling in love.”
“What are you interested in?” I asked him.
“Music. Getting this band off the ground.” His gaze moved to my lips and then sought out my eyes again. “You.”
Oh, that felt good. I felt the flush through my entire body and that dizzying whirl of butterflies.
“Okay. So… let’s not fall in love, then,” I said, my voice soft in the night.
“Okay,” he said.
“Like don’t even think about falling in love with me.”
“I won’t.”
Liar.
He was such a good liar. Very practiced.
But I saw through it.
“Okay,” I agreed. “I won’t either.”
He stared at me, absorbing that.
Then he reached for me. He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me to him for a kiss.
And then another kiss…
And another.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Danica
We went down to my apartment, kissing all the way, and once we were inside, I immediately tugged Ashley toward my bed.
One of the perks of living in a studio apartment: easy access to the bed, no matter where the kissing started.
We tumbled onto the bed and made out, clinging to one another, until he suddenly broke away and panted, “I can’t fucking stand it. Take off your dress.”
I kind of laughed, this giddy I-can’t-believe-this-amazing-thing-is-happening laugh.
Then we got me all undressed and he went down on me, fast. Like he buried his face between my legs before I knew what was happening. Before I could get his clothes off.
My sexy underwear barely even got a cursory glance.
This time, he was kneeling beside me on the bed, facing down, so he was eating me upside-down. His pierced tongue was all over my clit, and wow…
I fell back on the bed. He was still fully dressed, even though I’d tried to peel off his shirt. Why was he still wearing his shirt? I clawed at it desperately as I panted… Stupid, stupid shirt.
I wiggled myself closer to him… As close as I could get. I ran my hand up inside his shirt, over his gorgeous body… his soft skin and the thick muscles beneath, the ripples of his ribs. I ran my other hand up his thigh and touched his dick, the hard ridge in his pants.
Damn, he was hard.
I brushed my fingers up and down his shaft a few times.
Then his hand came down on mine and gently moved it away.
“Sorry…” I whispered.
Then he lashed my clit with his tongue and I moaned, writhing against him. I snaked my arm around his hard thigh, grabbed at his ass, balled his shirt up in my fist. “Please…” I begged.
Ashley was merciless, though, and clearly didn’t care that I wanted him naked before I came.
I started to come, and I bit his thigh, smothering a scream.
“Ah, fuck…” he groaned against my pussy.
I was thrashing around in bliss and all I could do was latch myself tighter around his rock-hard body. His hips moved in a frustrated rhythm as he kinda humped my arm and the bed. I yanked the fistful of his shirt toward me and locked my arm around his thigh, my thighs wrapped around his head as I came.
He licked all my juices up as I trembled, like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
“Jesus Christ,” he panted. “Holy fuck.”
When I went limp, he fell over on his side. Both of us lay there, shuddering, halfway entangled. Destroyed.
Wait. Why was he destroyed?
“What just happened?” I asked in a daze, when I could actually speak again.
“Uh, we both just came.”
“Oh my God,” I panted. “How? I wasn’t even touching you…”
He laughed, a strangled, destroyed sound. “Your pussy was all over my face.”
“I know, but…”
“I could probably get off just watching you touch yourself, with nothing touching me at all.”
“Wow. That’s a talent.”
He propped one arm behind his head to look at me. “You never come with nothing touching you at all?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Never had a wet dream? Come in your sleep?”
“Okay, yeah. I’ve had those…”
“Same thing.” He kissed my thigh. “The mind’s a powerful tool.” He sighed. “Besides, these pants are tight.”
“They aren’t. They just feel that way because your cock is so big.”
He grinned.
“Does it still hurt?” I asked.
“Yeah. Humping your arm like a desperate puppy didn’t help.”
I groaned and kind of giggled.
“Kinda hurts more now that I’m not hard anymore…”
“Sorry.” Fuck me. Why did I have to catch his dick in his zipper? Really. Who does that?
“No worries,” he said softly. “It was worth it.”
We both lay in silence, just trying to catch our breath.
“Hey, Ashley,” I ventured. “Do you think… Could you stay over? You know… spoon me again?”
Silence.
He started to move, to sit up. And I was almost afraid to look at him, in case he was getting up to leave.
“Yeah,” he said, and I met his eyes. “Just let me clean up.”
Then he leaned over and kissed my breast. He kissed my neck and then my cheek, and then he headed into the bathroom.
* * *
When Ashley came back, he was naked. Completely naked. I’d turned out the lights, but I saw the outline of his gorgeous form in the near-dark.
He slid into the bed next to me. He drew the sheet over us and slipped his arm around my waist. Then he kissed the back of my neck.
Jesus, I wanted to kiss him all over.
I sighed. “Good night, Ashley.”
“Good night, Danica.”
“Thanks for staying over.”
“Thanks for being so fucking sexy.”
I smiled in the dark.
* * *
Twenty minutes.
I kept staring at the clock by my bed, and that’s how much time had passed since we’d said good night. I had no idea if Ashley had fallen asleep, but there was no way I could sleep right now with his beautiful body right up against mine, his heat soaking into me… His delicious smell. The sound of him breathing in my bed.
I needed to pee, but I didn’t even want to get up.
Finally, I slipped out from under his arm and went to pee. I got a couple of glasses of water and put one on his side of the bed for him. Then I got back into bed, quietly.
His arm immediately slipped over me and his big hand spread across my stomach, nudging me toward him. I wriggled closer and wedged my body against his. I could feel his dick against my butt cheek, but it wasn’t hard.
I should’ve really left it that way.
Let him heal…
I rolled over to face him. I could barely make out his eyes in the dark, but they were definitely open.
I pulled the sheet off us both and ran my hand gently up his thigh. I found the head of his cock and very lightly smoothed my thumb over his piercing, the two smooth steel balls and his smooth flesh in-between.
He groaned a little, but he didn’t move my hand away. He didn’t move at all.
“You’re pierced here,” I said, drifting my thumb over his cockhead again. “Must be sensitive.”
He groaned again, and his cock definitely twitched. He was swelling from my touch.
“I was thinking… what if I just touched the head?” I smoothed my thumb over and around the head of his cock in a gentl
e circle, again and again, as I felt him stiffen. When he was hard, I slid my other hand up his thigh to gently cup his balls. “And here…” I said, squeezing gently and stroking his sac.
He made a rough gasping sound that sounded delicious, so I kept going.
“I can just play with the head,” I said sweetly, rubbing my thumb over his piercing again, around and around, “and touch you like this…” I stroked his sac, which was swollen and firm. “And make you come. You said you could do it without being touched at all. I’ll be so gentle…”
“Danica…” he groaned. “Shit…”
I took that as encouragement.
I slid southward and lowered my mouth to the head of his cock. As I flickered my tongue gently over his slit, he moaned something that sounded like an agreement or maybe a request for more. I could taste the slightly salty taste of his come.
“You taste good, Ashley…”
I smeared the pre-come that was beading there over his head with my thumb and licked him again.
He groaned again and rolled a little, onto his back, his body telling me to do whatever the fuck I wanted to him. I wanted to suck him deep into my mouth, but I was determined to make this feel good for him—I didn’t want to hurt him and I wasn’t going to risk touching him in any way that wouldn’t feel amazing.
So I licked the palm of my hand and then smeared it over his balls, squeezing gently. At the same time, I lapped my tongue over his cockhead and then around, licking along the rim of his crown. Then I flickered it over the piercing.
Ashley gasped, groaned and shuddered. His hand went into my hair, just lightly resting on my head.
“Danica…” he breathed again.
And I felt a surge of feminine power. This blissful feeling of turning him on.
You’re my dream fuck.
I really wanted to live up to that pronouncement…
I slipped my mouth over his cockhead and sucked him inside.
He moaned and when I flickered my tongue over his piercing again, he made a very sexy male hissing sound that I took for extreme pleasure.
I slipped my mouth away, exploring a little more with my tongue… all around the rim of his head, around the piercing and over his slit. I sucked him back into my mouth, in-between licks, over and over again, keeping my touch gentle; light but forceful.