by Amiee Louise
Both of our orgasms last longer than usual, and I feel like the whole room is spinning. My whole body feels like it is made of jelly and Sam lets out a laboured breath as his orgasm dispels.
“Fuck, that was intense, angel.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and lays me gently down on the rug. He lies down next to me and tucks me under his arm, pulling me closer to him until my head is on his chest. I feel his thundering heartbeat under my cheek, and he kisses me on the top of my head.
“I don’t think the neighbours are going to forget my name in a hurry!” He jokes and we both laugh. There is a loud bang on the door, interrupting our moment.
“Are we going to get an encore?” Brody shouts.
“Fuck off!” Sam throws his boot against the door, and I hear Brody laugh.
“Can I join in?”
Sam gets up and pads across the room naked. I take the opportunity to ogle his perfect pert arse, and I suddenly have an idea. I get to my feet and walk over to the bed.
“Baby,” I purr, and he spins around before he gets to the door.
“You’re lucky the missus is begging for round four or I will come out there and fucking kick your arse.”
Brody chuckles, and I hear his footsteps across the landing.
“God, you’re so beautiful.”
Sam stalks towards me, and I stop him by placing my hand on the middle of his chest, feeling his muscles flex underneath my fingers.
“Let me take control, baby,” I whisper and Sam growls, holding his hands out to the side.
“I’m all yours, angel.”
“Lie down in the middle of the bed.”
He does as I ask and lies down in the middle of the bed. He looks perfect lying there anticipating my next move. I climb onto the bed and settle between his muscular legs. I kiss a trail from his neck and gently suck his nipples. I blow cool air, and he shivers.
“Jesus, that feels good.”
I run my fingernails down his chest and down the ridges of his six-pack. I feel his erection grow with every touch. I lick my way down his torso and kiss the inside of his thigh down his leg and back up the other side. He writhes beneath me, and I am enjoying being in control. I settle back between his legs and take his cock in my hand. I stroke him gently and I see him struggling with his self-control with every caress.
“Fuck, you feel so good angel, so good.”
I straddle his narrow hips and guide his hardness into my dripping wet opening and sink down onto him. He gasps as I take his length inside me.
“Oh, Jesus, your pussy feels like velvet.”
I lift myself up and sink back down, creating a slow, steady rhythm.
“That’s it, angel, ride my cock,” he says breathlessly, and I maintain a slow pace, balancing our carnal animalistic fucking with sensual leisurely lovemaking.
“Sam,” I moan softly.
“Angel, I love you.”
His hands find my hips, and he rocks me up and down on him.
“I love you, Sam, so much.”
I lean down until our faces are inches apart; his heart is pounding a frantic tattoo as I press my breasts against his chest. I press my lips to his and kiss him sensually. Our tongues colliding and probing each other. I am filled with a pure desperate need for this man. He wraps his strong arms around me, and I ride him. I quicken my pace, and I am panting softly in his ear.
“Sam.”
He pulls me closer to him as if he wants to climb inside me.
“I know, angel, I feel it too, I’ve got you.”
He runs his hands up and down my spine, as I continue to ride him.
“Come for me, baby,” I whisper, and he pushes his cock deeper inside me.
With one last thrust, I feel my orgasm burst through me. A few seconds later, Sam finds his release and fills me with his hot seed, shouting my name and telling me how much he loves me. At that moment I feel so much love for this man it brings tears to my eyes. I bury my head in his neck.
“Hey,” he whispers. “Hey, look at me, angel.”
I shake my head, suddenly overwhelmed by the depth of feeling, which consumes every part of my very being. He lifts me off him and sits up. He pulls me into his lap and strokes my back.
“What’s with the tears? You’ll give me a complex!”
Sam chuckles and the feelings that I have held in come bursting out like a dam overflowing. The tears flow freely, and he rocks me gently.
“Talk to me, angel.” He tips my chin up, and I look up at him. “You shred me when you cry, I can’t stand it, angel.”
His voice sounds pained.
“I’m so happy, Sam; I love you so, so much. You consume my every thought, I need you more than my next breath. I’m addicted to you, and I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You’re everything to me, you complete me. I love you,” I say in a rush, and he swallows.
“I love you more than life itself, angel; I need you more than I need my next breath too. I love you so much sometimes it scares the shit out of me. You’re so beautiful, don’t ever leave me,” he chokes out, and we sit like that for a while, listening to each other breathe. Content just to sit in silent contemplation, as lovers and as soul mates.
A few hours pass, and it is almost time to go to the gig. Sam is dressed in his full stage costume, complete with stage make-up. I admire my engagement ring, and I can’t help the ear-splitting grin that spreads across my face. Sam watches me from across the room and chuckles softly.
“God, that smile melts me every time, angel, you’re so beautiful.”
He pulls me out to the balcony. The sun is just setting, and it is breath-taking. The orange and pink hues on the horizon make it look like a postcard. My back to his hard chest, Sam wraps his arms around my waist and settles his hands on my stomach.
“This is the best day of my life so far, angel, you agreeing to be my wife, you carrying our child. I am so happy right now, I could shout from the fucking rooftops. Today is the first day of the rest of our lives.”
We both laugh, and someone clears their throat behind us.
“Just give us a sec.” Sam spins me around and presses his lips to mine. “Remember this moment always, angel.”
He pulls away, and we walk back inside.
“The car’s downstairs, Sam,” J.D says, and Sam nods curtly. I suddenly realise I have forgotten my bag and my phone.
“I’ll catch you up, baby; I need to grab my bag.”
He smiles his dazzling smile. “Hurry, angel, I need my good luck charm.”
He winks and leaves the room. I grab my phone and my bag, as I go to leave the room, J.D. grabs my arm so roughly I know there is going to be a bruise. He leans in so close I can smell the stench of alcohol on his breath.
“This ain’t Mills and Boon with guitars, sweetheart. Girls like you don’t get happy endings, pregnant or not.” He sneers, and the cold tone of his voice makes me shudder. “Remember that, sweetheart.”
He winks and lets go of me. There is something off about him. and I can’t quite put my finger on it, just his sheer presence unnerves me. I push that thought to the back of my head and go downstairs to join the rest of the boys. For the first time in my life, I am so happy, and this moment is the first day of the rest of my happy ever after with Sam.
17
Sam
I am on stage staring off at the sea of fans that have turned out for our gig. Our American fans are the craziest of all our fans. Their dedication humbles me every time we come out here to perform. I look over to the front row where my girl should be, and I lose myself in my thoughts:
I am on stage performing in front of over twelve thousand fans tonight in Las Vegas at the Mandalay Bay Events Centre, I see only her. She is in the spot where she always is at our gigs. Front row centre, where I can see her easily and clearly. She has become my good luck charm and my sole reason to get up on stage. Our eyes lock, and she smiles holding up a piece of paper. Our marriage license. I can’t hold back the shit-e
ating grin that’s plastered across my face. In less than twenty-four hours, she will be my wife. She will be Mrs. Peyton Newbolt. My wife, my whole world, my life, the mother of my unborn child, my Peyton. To me, she is beauty personified, and I can’t quite believe I’m going to spend the rest of my life with this amazing woman.
I want to make my way through the crowd and perform to her, only her. I want to look into her beautiful blue eyes and make her feel just an ounce of what I feel for her in the lyrics of our songs. I need to hold her in my arms, I need to feel her skin on mine, I need to feel the softness of her lips, and I need to feel the warmth of her body pressed against me. I need to remind myself that this is real, that this isn’t a dream, it’s actually happening. I am no longer the shell of a man I once was. For the first time in my life, I am finally whole. I’m complete, and it feels so fucking good.
I am at the front of the stage singing My Dark Passenger, one of our heavier rock hits. As the lyrics wash over me, I totally lose myself in the music. This is my time to shine...
I am jolted back to the present by Lucas’ pounding drum beat, and I look over to the front row where my Peyton should be. But she isn’t there; she didn’t make it to the gig, and I’m on edge. This should be the happiest day of my life, and I should be giving this performance everything I have, but my heart isn’t in it. My heart constricts as I gaze over at the empty spot where she should be.
Come on, Newbolt, get it together, the fans have paid good money to see you perform. I take a breath and lose myself in the music, trying to ignore the huge Peyton-shaped hole in my chest.
“Good evening, Las Vegas! We’re Rancid Vengeance, how are you crazy ass motherfuckers doing tonight? Are we going to fucking rock? Hell yeah, let’s do this shit!” I say in my signature growl and plaster a smile across my face.
You can do this, Newbolt.
We have performed the first half of our gig, and after the shaky start, I found my stride. I channelled my inner showman and gave the performance of my life, even though my heart and my head were somewhere else. I fly off stage, removing my earpiece and throwing it in the direction of the nearest stagehand.
“Sam, I don’t know what happened, we don’t know where she is. She forgot her phone and her bag.”
Cole keeps up with my stride.
“Where’s my girl, Cole? Where the fuck is she? She sent me a fucking text saying she would definitely meet us here,” I growl at Cole. “You were supposed to be watching her, for fuck’s sake!” I shout. “How hard is it to keep your fucking eyes on her, Cole? Find her!”
A passing stagehand hands me a towel and a bottle of water.
Right now, I could do with something a lot stronger than water.
“Mate, you need to calm down. I’ve got my best men on it. They’re looking for her as we speak, and I’ve sent Jace back to Lucas’ house to look for her, just in case something happened.”
He talks into the headset. How the fuck can I keep calm?
“Try and calm down, Sam, please, we’ll find her, you have my word,” he repeats and strides off. I walk down the corridor and J.D runs to catch up with me.
“Sam, Sam, slow down, mate, bloody hell.”
I fling the dressing room door open and flop down on the sofa.
“Sam, there’s been a delivery for you.”
I look up at him.
“I haven’t ordered anything, J.D, what the fuck?”
He hands me a folded piece of paper with a DVD disc tucked inside it.
“It was hand-delivered.”
He shrugs. I take it from him and unfold the note. My blood runs cold from what I see in front of me. On the note in large black lettering is ‘Play this during An Angel’s Kiss, or Peyton dies’. I put my hand to my mouth to stop myself from throwing up at the words.
“What the fuck? Who gave this to you, J.D?”
He looks at me.
“It was hand-delivered to me outside the venue, by a man on a motorbike wearing a motorcycle helmet, I couldn’t see his face. I’m sorry, Sam, that’s all I can tell you.”
My eyes widen, and I feel the sudden need to vomit. I can’t bear the thought of someone hurting Peyton. I fly off the sofa and storm out of the dressing room.
“Cole! Where the fuck is Cole?” I bellow as Jax and the boys stop me in the corridor.
“Whoa! Where’s the emergency, dude?”
I push the DVD and the note into Brody’s chest.
“This is the fucking emergency. Someone has my girl!” I shout. This is not happening; this can’t be happening. FUCK!
“What the fuck?” all the boys say in unison and I run my hands frantically through my hair.
“Fuck!” I roar, and Jax puts his hand on my arm in a gesture of reassurance.
“She is going to be fine, mate, I promise. We’ll get her back, you need to try and keep calm.”
If I hear that fucking phrase once more, I swear to God I am going to kick someone’s arse. Someone has my girl; she must be terrified. Why didn’t I keep a closer eye on her? I should have gone back for her. Christ, this is all my fault. I worry my lip between my teeth and the look that crosses Jax, Lucas and Brody’s face mirrors how I feel.
“Are you going to play the DVD during ‘An Angel’s Kiss’ like the note says?” Lucas enquires, and my heart constricts at the title of the song I wrote for her.
The person doing this obviously wants me to suffer and knows the only way to get to me is through Peyton. This is fucked up.
“What the fuck else can I do? It’s not like I have a choice, what if the person who has her is here watching us? What if I don’t play it and they kill her? I have to do this.” My voice shakes as I say those words and I try to push that thought to the back of my mind.
“Come on, dude, she is going to be fine. She is going to be back celebrating with us by the end of the gig; it’s probably one of the crew playing some sick joke,” Brody says, and I smile weakly at his optimism. I wish I shared his glass-half-full theory. A voice comes through the P.A system.
“Five minutes to show time, five minutes to show time.”
We all crowd around each other in a circle.
“Come on, boys; let’s do this, let’s fucking rock,” Brody shouts enthusiastically, and we have a group hug, part of our show ritual. It has bought us luck over the past ten years; I just hope it works now.
It is almost the end of the second half and the finale of the gig. We have all given the performance of our lives. We have played our hearts out, bantered, and interacted with the crowd. I am sweating profusely from leaping around the stage giving the fans a show. Up on stage in front of the fans I am a true showman, I have perfected my craft over ten years in the music industry. Even through the toughest times in my life, I have managed to get up on stage and act like nothing at all is wrong, this is one of those moments.
I move to the microphone, place it on the microphone stand and wrap my trembling hands around it. I turn to Jax, Lucas, and Brody to signal the intro of “An Angels Kiss”.
“This next song is called ‘An Angel’s Kiss’, it’s on our new album, and I wrote it for the angel in my life, my fiancée Peyton Harper; wherever you are baby this one’s for you.”
The crowd roar, with a rapturous applause. Jax starts his guitar solo, and I turn my gaze to Cole, who speaks into his headset signalling for them to play the DVD. Jax’s fingers move up and down his fretboard, I close my eyes and take a breath ready for the song to start when I am interrupted by a sinister sounding voice, which almost sounds robotic.
“Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam.”
The eerie voice sends shivers down my spine, and I start to sing. The music is flowing through my veins, consuming every part of my body.
“You broke down my guard, shattered my defences. You’re my mistress of destiny; I am a master of my own universe. You’re my diamond in the rough, a heartbeat in my perpetual darkness. I was the boy who tried to heal a broken heart with a shattered mind and a shattered mind with a
broken promise. Like a hurricane, you cure my soul of pain; I’ve never felt like this, there’s no end to this bliss. Our worlds collide with an angel’s kiss.”
That's when I hear it, the blood-curdling scream of terror coming from the woman I love with everything I am filling the venue. I stop singing, despite the twelve thousand fans in front of us. My throat closes up, and my heart clenches at the sound.
"Sam, Sam, please baby, help me, help me," she sobs.
I slowly turn to look up at the large screen that adorns the stage, my knees buckle, and I drop to my knees at the sight that graces me. My girl, my beautiful Peyton tied to a chair, bloody and tear-stained, pleading for her life.