DARE: A Rock Star Hero

by Scott, S. L.

  “Life is full of mysteries, and I can only assume that our paths crossed in another life.”

  “Another life that feels so much like this one.” He grabs another towel, covering his lower half. Blowing out a long breath, he looks at the ceiling for a second, and then says, “It’s late. I’m talking nonsense.”

  “It is late, but you make perfect sense to me.” He makes more sense than only in this conversation.

  He carries our clothes as we leave a wet trail across the ceramic-tiled hall to his bedroom. It’s not messy, just as it wasn’t the other day. I have a feeling he’s a bit of a neat freak. When I think about him at my place, he’s always helping straighten up and the first one to start cleaning any mess in the kitchen. He’s so different from anything I expect. Full of wonderful surprises.

  I’m handed clean boxers and a tee while he slips on briefs before we climb into bed. Lying on our backs, our bodies aren’t touching, and I wonder how I ended up here. Not in this bed, but with him. I know the circumstantial evidence directs me right to the answer, but did the universe have a hand in us meeting? I feel we’re more than luck or chance.

  That doesn’t change the facts of what was going on in my head the night I went back to the bar. I blurt, “I returned to Shep’s because I wanted to sleep with you.”

  It’s dark, and when I look to my left, I can barely make out the grin. “I know.” His voice is low and gravelly. Smug. So sexy.

  “What do you mean you know?”

  I feel his shrug move the mattress, and then his laughter shakes it. “You don’t think I recognize that googly starstruck look in a girl’s eyes? I’ve seen it a million times, babe.”

  I pop him in the arm, but that doesn’t hinder his laughter. “I was not looking at you with googly starstruck eyes. I simply found you utterly irresistible. There’s a difference.”

  “And what might that difference be?”

  “You called me Pepper.”

  The laughter stops, and I hear him take a breath, his eyes reflecting his inner thoughts. “Yeah.”

  We both look at the other once more, my eyes adjusting to see his unreadable expression. He says, “I shouldn’t have brought you here. The sheets aren’t clean and—”

  “I wanted to come. I wanted to be in your space.” I can smell him on the sheets and roll to my side and close my eyes. I love that he wishes he could make things perfect. He doesn’t realize it’s already perfect to me because it’s him. “I like it here. It’s comforting.”

  He strokes the back of his fingers across my cheek. “You deserve better.”

  “Dirty sheets, Dare? It’s you. You told me no girl has been here, but I’m here, so I’ll take you all night long. If you are referring to you, who’s to say you’re not the better I deserve?” The back of my hand bumps into his under the covers. When my pinky wraps around his little finger, I say, “I think you’re amazing.”

  “Amazing, huh?” A crooked smirk works onto his face. “What’s so amazing about a broke rock star?”

  “That you pursued your dreams in the first place. You don’t owe anyone anything. You live free.”

  “I’m damned proud of the name the band built around town, but I still live paycheck to paycheck. Gig to gig.” Sitting up, he leans against the wall. “I’m doing what I set out to do—”

  “And what is that?”

  “Play by my own fucking rules, but a soft place to land in an apartment decorated to the nines wouldn’t be a bad place to crash sometimes.” He winks. “Hint. Hint.”

  “My parents own the apartment. I don’t own anything but clothes.”

  “There’s freedom found in that. You can pick up and go anywhere at any time.”

  “I’m not that brave.”

  “You’re braver than you know.” He kisses my head, but it’s not enough. I feel so connected to him emotionally that I connect us physically.

  Moving onto his lap, I straddle him and hold my hands to his chest.

  “Do you know how much I want you? Do you feel how hard you make me? You’re the perfect wet dream of sweet and sexy.”

  Before I can speak, he sits up and grips my jaw, kissing me hard, kissing me like we won’t get another chance. He engulfs a little moan and then reaches under my ass to flip me flat on my back before hovering over me. “How about we take these off?” he whispers, lifting my legs. The boxers are dragged down my legs, but not wasting any time, he sits up and removes his, bringing us skin to skin. God, how I love his heat.

  Maneuvering between my legs, he presses against me, and says, “I want to fuck you so badly.”

  Not thinking, feeling, I say, “Do it.”

  “Fuck.” His face is tense, all the pain warped into his closed eyes and forehead. It takes a moment, but he seems to regain control right when I had lost mine. “We shouldn’t fuck without protection.”

  He’s right. I was caught up in the moment, throwing that caution to the wind like I mentioned on Mt. Bonnell. But this isn’t something we should leave to chance, even if I’m on the pill. “Do you have a condom?”

  “Yeah.” He pops out of bed and goes to the dresser. Pulling out a few, he tosses them on the bed before climbing back in. “You ready, babe?”

  This . . .

  Connection.

  Sex.

  Us.

  Whatever we are, I want more of it.

  “So ready.”

  25

  Dare

  Beautiful to look at but dangerous for my heart.

  The lyric rolls around my mind as my beauty sleeps in my arms. I want to write it down, but deep down, I know I won’t forget. Like her. She’s already embedded herself right into the soul I vowed to protect. Somehow, Weatherly Beck has weaseled her way into a fortress I built years earlier.

  Quick like the hours.

  Sly like the wind.

  Love came whispering where the pain pours in.

  I’ve never been more drawn to someone before. Weatherly has blossomed in front of me. For me. “You were timid when we first met and now so bold,” I whisper.

  Her eyelids flutter open, the tips of her dark lashes tapping her skin. I didn’t mean to wake her, but I’m not upset about it either. I like seeing her eyes with safe harbors surrounded by deep blue oceans. Angling her head back to give us space, she yawns, but then says, “I wasn’t timid. I was nervous.”

  “Of what?”

  “That you’d say no.”

  “I knew it.” I chuckle lightly.

  She pokes my ribs, and I laugh harder. “You’re ticklish.”

  When she jabs me again, I can’t stop the laughter that follows. “No. No. No. Stop. Stop.” I grab her hand and bring it to my lips and kiss. “Please.”

  Giggling, she says, “Don’t think I’m going to forget that you’re ticklish.” She singsongs the end, teasing me. “I’m going to tickle you silly when you least expect it.”

  “Ah, babe. The key is sneaking up on me. That’s the real challenge.”

  “I’m not worried. I now know your Achilles’ heel, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  I’m at a loss. She plays dirty, and I have a whole lot of respect for that. “What’s that?”

  “Me.”

  She’s got me all figured out. I kiss her hand to distract her. “Why were you nervous?”

  “The way my heart beat hard in my chest when I first saw you and then quickened in the next. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

  “Love at first sight.” I cringe the second after I say that. Fuck. What am I doing? Retreat. Retreat. Retreat. “Maybe . . . If that kind of thing exists.”

  The tips of her nails draw lines on my chest, and I can’t help but hope they remain long after I leave this bed. “I like to think it does.”

  Moving up next to me, she brings my head to the crook of her neck and rubs lightly through my hair, her nails making my scalp tingle. I close my eyes to remember this, us like this, and how good this feels.

  The sheet is pushed to the side,
and she climbs on top of me. Straddling me, she’s a temptress, no longer timid or nervous, but owning who she is, who she’s always been before she was allowed to bloom.

  With her bare breasts and slick pussy, it’s so hard to remember that she might need time to recover when all I want is to bury myself deep inside her again.

  She lifts my chin with her finger. “The next time I watch you on that stage, you’re going to call me babe for everyone to hear.”

  As if I could get harder, that does it.

  Fucking hard as a rock under her and all she did was sit on top of me and declare she wants me to call her babe in public. “You’re mine, and I’ll tell the whole fucking world.”

  With daylight spanning across the room and nowhere else for our true feelings to hide, she kisses me. As much as I have the urge to be inside her again, I kiss her back, sharing my past through each caress, sharing an intimacy with her that I’ve never shared before.

  Our lips part, and we both take a breath while opening our eyes. Time has slipped out from under our thumbs. “The day’s starting,” I say. “Do you want to sleep?”

  She looks toward the window. When she turns back, she says, “No. I want to have sex again.”

  We kiss, trying to keep this night to ourselves and live inside our bubble a little longer before we let others in. The beauty that she brings into this world should be cherished, so I do, kissing her collarbone. “Why do you taste so good?”

  There’s no verbal answer, but her body tells me everything I need to know. Nipples firm and press against me, head tilts back, and hips rock. She leans forward, putting her lips to my ear. “Dare?”

  “Yeah?” I struggle to reply, wanting to be inside her again.

  “Make love to me.”

  When I reach toward the nightstand, she stops me. “I want to feel all of you. I’m not tired, and I’m thinking clearly. You don’t have girls over, and you said you don’t have unprotected sex—”

  “I don’t.” I pull back and look at her face, her eyes, trying to read her mind. She lifts up on her knees and takes my erection in her hand. “You’re on the pill?”

  “I am.” She sinks down.

  “Fucking hell. So—”

  “Amazing.”

  Grabbing her hips, I release everything that isn’t her. Weatherly. Pepper. My girlfriend. “You feel so good, so good, babe.”

  I start moving faster because my body demands it. Feeling good is an understatement to how she makes me feel. Powerful. Invincible. Loved.

  This time, I don’t let that last emotion stop me. I embrace it like I embrace her. “Tell me how you feel.”

  Planting her hands on my shoulders, I give her all the control, letting her own every thrust along with owning me. “Deep. Dare. So good. Mm. God.” She leans back on her hands shortly after, her mouth falling open, and her eyes closing. “Oh, God.” She heaves every breath uncontrollably. “Dare. Dare. Dare . . .”

  Moving my fingers, I find her clit and focus on her. That spot behind her ear that makes her purr. The taste of salt against her dewy skin. My soap lingering on her body from the shower last night.

  Her mouth closes, and she tilts down. “I want you to come, Dare. Come for—” She gasps again, her body trembling on top of mine as her orgasm grips her. “Yes. God, yes.”

  So close to trailing after, so I pull her off me and come. “Fuck.”

  We stay like this—my body covered—for minutes. When I can finally breathe normally again, I search for her eyes. That’s when I realize how all-consuming she’s become to me. I look away, my chest squeezing in ways that feel too much after what we just did. Overwhelmed, I twist like a tornado inside.

  Her swallow is heard in the quiet room. “Why did you do that?”

  My words catch in my throat because I’m about to tell her the truth, and not only does it kill me from the thought of not having her here, but I don’t want to hurt her. “You don’t need me or anything else holding you back in life.”

  “You aren’t holding me back.” Panic is felt in her fingertips as she presses them to my shoulder and looks over me. It’s seen in her eyes. “You’ve shown me there’s more to it than the life I was leading.”

  “That’s why I pulled out. I won’t be to blame for taking that away.”

  “Nothing is being taken away.” She lies next to me, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m not arguing with you about it. I’m not ready to have kids either, so I get it.”

  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you.”

  Her hand caresses my cheek. “I overthink everything, but us, I won’t. I’ll take what you’re saying at face value.”

  “Good.” I grin. “Can you grab me a washrag?”

  She gets up and goes to the dresser, but stops when she sees the small metal frame. Leaning in, she says, “You do look like your mom.”

  When she turns back as if to confirm the resemblance, I say, “Can we have this conversation when I don’t have cum all over me?”

  With a laugh, she says, “I guess there’s a better time to have it. Bathroom?”

  “Yep.”

  She slips on the tee she had on earlier and slips out the door to the bathroom across the hall. Quick, she returns and tosses me the washrag. I get up and wipe myself while she disappears again. I catch her before she climbs back in bed because I see her rub her temples, I ask, “You okay?”

  “I have a headache, and I’m a little sore.”

  “I hurt you?”

  “No. You didn’t. It felt amazing. I’m just not used to it.”

  “Sex?”

  “That . . .” Her eyes drop to my dick. “And you.”

  “Nothing I can do about my size, babe. But I can get you some ibuprofen.”

  She laughs, climbing in bed. “Ibuprofen, water, and rest. I think I can use all three.”

  “Coming right up.” I pull on basketball shorts and go to the kitchen. After refilling our glasses from earlier, I get a few pain relievers and return. I don’t want to only tell her how much I care about her. I’m determined to show her.

  Despite being fairly fast, she’s asleep when I come back in. I sit beside her, moving the hair away from her face. Hope has a conniving way of sneaking into the room and implanting itself in my heart.

  Fuck.

  I’m so screwed.

  I get back in bed and snuggle around her, careful not to wake her. We both need rest, and it’s easy to find sleep with her here when I close my eyes.

  We’ve not been asleep long enough when she kisses me on the head. When I open my eyes, she says, “I’m going. I have to do a few things today, but I’ll see you tonight. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I reply groggily. “Call me later.”

  She stops at the door and turns back. “Not text you?”

  “I want to hear your voice.”

  Even though I’m tired as all get-out, I peek up at her fast enough to catch that smile I love so much. “I’ll call you later then,” she says.

  “Hey, babe?”

  “Yes?”

  “Have a great day.”

  “You too. I’ll see you tonight at the show.”

  I try to fall asleep again, but shortly after she leaves, Lennox barges in. “He did it!”

  “Get the fuck out, Len.” I pull the pillow over my head.

  It’s ripped away, and I sit up like an idiot trying to reclaim it. “Give it back. I’m tired.”

  “Dare! Listen to what I’m saying.”

  “What are you saying, fucker?”

  “Dick James just mentioned The Heroes on the radio.”

  It’s too early to decipher his words. “What?”

  “Dick. Fucking. James, Dare. He just recommended the band on the radio before he played one of our songs.”

  Jumping up, I grab the pillow and throw it back on the bed. “Dick did?”

  “Yes, motherfucker. Dick James just pimped us out.”

  “Holy fuck.” We run out of the room where English and Romeo a
re celebrating. Romeo grabs English, and they shove each other and then hug it out. “Dick James!” Romeo yells. “Final-fucking-ly!”

  We yell a few more times and then all jump in the pool because what else are we supposed to do at ten in the morning to celebrate our lives changing forever? Hopefully . . .

  We rode the high of the radio promo, and just as promised, my girl was in the audience when we took the stage. That was our best show ever and when I called her “babe,” she turned bright red. Sure enough, I saw those stars in her eyes again.

  26

  Weatherly

  “So you’d never get one?” The rough pad of Dare’s finger scrapes over my hip bone.

  “I didn’t say I believed the same as my father,” I reply with us sprawled across my bed.

  “A tattoo on you would look incredible.” He kisses the soft, pale skin of my lower belly where the sun never reaches. “Right about here.”

  “No one would see it there.”

  Peering up at me, he waggles his eyebrows. “I would.”

  If blissfully happy is a thing, I have it. I muss up his hair. He’d do it anyway, hating when it’s too “neat” as he calls it, so I let the slight wave waterfall across my hand. The brown of Dare’s eyes is lighter compared to the dark that surrounds us. I roll my fingertips over the muscle of that amazing V that leads to all good things and then higher, stopping just beneath an abstract heart tattooed on his chest. “This is my favorite.”

  His hand covers mine, and he says, “I got that one right after I heard our song, ‘Abstract Heart,’ on the radio. One of the biggest highs of my life.”

  “I didn’t know you had a song on the radio before?”

  “Years ago. An old DJ friend got it put into circulation for a few weeks. The thing about having dreams come true is sometimes they crash and burn right after. Nothing came of it.”

  “That sucks, but you had a song on the radio. Something most bands will never have.”

  “I remember seeing an interview with some band from the 80s like A-Ha or Kajagoogoo—”