Royal Disaster #3

by Renna Peak

  Pax

  I let my bandmates ahead of us on the elevator, pulling Sophia back to wait for the next one. I want a few minutes alone with her. Well, more than a few minutes, if I’m being completely honest.

  I glance back toward the lobby doors. The police have managed to herd everyone back outside, but fans are still pressed against the glass, watching us. Their shouts are muffled, so I can’t hear the words, but I wonder how many of them are yelling terrible things about Sophia. Would they actually dare to do that in front of me?

  I feel the overwhelming urge to pull Sophia into my arms, to kiss her in front of all these people and make it clear where she stands with me. She’s mine, and no one—not her brother, not my bandmates, and not even my fans—is going to take her away from me.

  When I look at Sophia, though, I find her watching the windows with a worried look on her face. As much as I want to mark my territory, I also don’t want to give that mob out there any more ammunition to use against her.

  “Let’s go up to my room for a little bit,” I say, jabbing the elevator button. “We can join the guys in the suite later.” Mick always books us the biggest suite in the hotel as well as individual rooms—the suite for the after party, the rooms for when we’re ready to crash.

  When the elevator arrives, I pull Sophia in after me. The minute the doors close, I yank her against me and kiss her.

  Her arms slide around my waist. I back her up until her back is against the wall, and my fingers weave through her hair as my tongue delves into her mouth.

  I didn’t realize how desperate I was for her until this moment. The rush of the concert, the smoldering anger when I thought she’d run off again, then the fear when I saw the mob of fans attacking her…all of them have combined to cause a flood of need that can’t be dammed. I grind my hips against hers, and I’m not sure whether the resulting groan comes from her or from me.

  Her lips slide across mine, her mouth warm and soft and just as needy as mine. My hands release her hair and drop to the hem of her shirt. I need her. Now.

  My fingers graze her bare skin, sliding up her sides to the underside of her bra. They delve beneath the lacy fabric, gliding across her curves. I don’t know how, but the skin of her breasts is somehow even softer than the skin on the rest of her. I want to rip all of these clothes off her and take her breast in my mouth, roll my tongue around one of her hard nipples.

  The elevator dings. We’ve reached our floor.

  I don’t even let go of her. We stumble out of the elevator as one tangled mess, nearly tripping over each other as we move down the hall. The suite is just to the left of the elevators, and I can already hear laughter and music from the other side. My room is several doors down. I’m forced to remove one of my hands from Sophia so I can reach into my pocket and grab the keycard.

  When we’re safely inside, I don’t even bother flicking on the light. I shove the door shut and half drag, half carry her toward the bed. All the while, she’s clinging to me, kissing me, and by the time we reach the bed I realize she’s managed to get my belt off without my even noticing.

  I laugh and throw her down on the comforter. I pull my T-shirt over my head and kick off my shoes before leaning over her.

  “I missed you today,” I murmur, lowering myself over her. I kiss her shallowly, then deeply.

  It’s her turn to laugh. “You were plenty busy without me.”

  “Can’t I be busy and still miss you?”

  “Of course.” She sobers a little. “Your concert was really good.”

  “Just good?”

  Another laugh. “Okay, I’ll stroke your ego a little. It was amazing. No wonder you have mobs of fans fighting for you. It was… Would it be silly if I said it was magical?”

  “Not at all.”

  “It was.” Her breath catches slightly, as if she meant to say something else but cut herself off at the last minute.

  “But…?” I continue for her. I have a sneaking suspicion there’s a but coming.

  “But nothing.”

  I don’t believe her. I bend down and brush my lips against the side of her throat. “Don’t lie to me, Sophia.”

  “I’m not lying. I didn’t say anything.”

  “But you’re thinking it.” I kiss her neck softly again, and she shivers. “What are you not saying?”

  Maybe she knows there’s no point in arguing, because she doesn’t bother continuing to deny it.

  “I just…” She shifts beneath me. “I noticed you completely ignored me for the second half of the concert.”

  I shouldn’t be surprised she noticed that. Not with the energy that shoots between us every time our eyes meet.

  “If I hadn’t stopped looking at you, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to finish the concert,” I tell her.

  “Now you’re the one who’s lying.”

  “I’m not. Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

  “Some.”

  “Whatever you’re imagining, it’s much, much more,” I tell her. “That’s why I couldn’t look at you the whole time.”

  “And why you brought another woman up on stage with you?”

  “What’s this?” I ask, amusement creeping into my voice. “Is that jealousy I hear?”

  “No,” she insists. “I’m not—”

  “You are. Admit it.” I kiss her throat again. “There’s no shame in it.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then it wouldn’t bother you if I did this to another woman?” I flick my tongue against her skin, drawing a little gasp from her.

  “No, it wouldn’t,” she lies. Her voice is slightly breathless.

  “What about this?” I kiss my way up to her ear, then suck the lobe between my teeth.

  “No,” she says, but she sounds even more strained.

  “Then what about this?” I push my hand up beneath her shirt again, sliding it around her breast. Her nipple hardens beneath my palm.

  “Or this?” I kiss her deeply, letting my tongue tease her lips before plunging into her mouth.

  Her response is muffled beneath my kiss, but her arms come up around my neck again.

  I pull my mouth away. “What about—”

  “Enough,” she says. “Yes, I was jealous. But you’re mine now, and I plan on taking full advantage of it.” And with that, she pushes me off her, flipping me onto my back, and then climbs on top of me, proceeding to do exactly as she promised.

  Sophia

  We somehow manage to get the condom on before I rock onto him, and he groans as I take him fully inside of me. It only takes me a few moments like that, grinding myself against him before I reach my bliss.

  He grabs me around my waist, flipping me onto my back without leaving me at all. He kisses me deeply as he thrusts into me, again and again. It’s only a few moments before I’m at my edge again, and my fingers dig into his back as I cry out, glad I don’t have to try to contain my ecstasy this time.

  Pax thrusts into me a final time, groaning into my neck as he finishes before rolling off of me.

  We’re both out of breath, and Pax pulls me into his arms. “God, I lo…” His eyes widen, and he blinks at me a few times. “I mean, I’ll… I’ll uh… I’ll be having you again in a second.” He lets out a forced, breathless laugh.

  He almost said I love you. I’m sure of it.

  I can’t help but smile before I kiss the side of his face. “Pardon me, but I do believe I just had you.”

  I started out this night so unsure of how I felt—how Pax felt—but now I don’t need anything else. He didn’t say the words—not yet. And I’m not going to frighten him by trying to force the issue. There’s definitely something here. Something more than a fling. Perhaps not love just yet, but…more.

  And as he pulls me even closer to him and I nuzzle into his chest, I’m sure I’m starting to feel the same way about him.

  Pax

  I feel sort of dizzy. I can’t believe I almost said that.

  I can’t tell
if she noticed or not, but I’m going to keep on pretending that she didn’t. It’s easier that way.

  This girl’s got me fucked up in the head. And I’m not sure where that leaves me.

  Part of me wants to stay right here, holding her all night, but another part of me is starting to feel like I’m suffocating. I don’t trust myself around her, not after what almost just happened.

  Abruptly, I sit up. “We should go to the party.”

  Sophia pushes the hair out of her eyes. “What party?”

  “The one in the suite. I told the guys we’d head there for a bit.” I stand and hunt around on the floor for my jeans. “Or at least I told them I would. You’re welcome to stay here and sleep if you want.”

  Finding my jeans, I pull them on. Then I grab my shirt and belt and put those on, too.

  Sophia sits up on the bed, watching me. “You really want to go? Now?”

  “We always party after a show,” I tell her. “It wouldn’t be right if I wasn’t there.”

  She pulls her knees up to her chest and continues to watch me as I slip on my shoes.

  “You coming or not?” I ask her finally, needing to get out of this room as soon as possible.

  She nods. “I’ll be along in a minute. I need a few moments to get dressed and freshen up.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you over there, then. Suite at the end of the hall.” I don’t wait for her response. I stride out of the room and down the hall, running a hand through my hair to try and tame it. It’s only then that I start to feel like I can breathe again.

  The music coming from the suite is even louder than it was before. Same with the voices. I knock and wait. A moment later the door opens, and a red-cheeked Charlie stands behind it. His eyes light up when he sees me.

  “Hey! Look who it is!” he slurs. He turns back toward the rest of the suite. “Guys, look who it is!”

  A cheer goes up when people see me. There are a lot more people here than I expected—three dozen at least. And there’s music and booze and just about anything else I might want.

  Just what I need.

  “How about a drink?” I say to Charlie. He doesn’t even get the chance to respond before someone shoves a full bottle of vodka into my hand. I don’t know what brand it is, but I’m not about to be picky or ungrateful at a time like this.

  “Cheers!” I say, pulling open the vodka. I drink right from the bottle, and the burn as it goes down my throat makes me feel like myself again.

  And then someone else comes up and hands me a shot, which of course I take.

  And that’s only the beginning.

  As I make my way around the room, I take whatever drink anyone hands me. Shots. Ice-cold bottles of beer. Liquor. I drink it all. The room around me is full of music and laughter. Friends and strangers greet me and congratulate me on the performance of a lifetime.

  This is what this life is all about, I think as I take another long swig from the vodka bottle that’s still in my hand.

  A warm buzz has started to fill my body, and all my other cares disappear. I told myself I didn’t need to get trashed to celebrate the show, but fuck, it feels really fucking good. And what’s wrong with letting loose a little?

  After a while, everything sort of becomes a blur. I remember talking to Charlie for a bit, then a couple of girls I don’t recognize. Then Rider and Melissa. I think. The faces start to blend together. I dimly realize, in the back of my mind, that I’m doing this to get my mind off of something. But I don’t ever stop to let myself remember what.

  At one point, I stumble out onto the balcony. The night air is cool. There’s a breeze blowing off the bay. It feels good. I feel good.

  “We’ve made it!” I shout to the city below. “We’ve fucking made it!”

  That’s the important thing, right? That’s what this night is about, not…whatever it is that I’m trying not to think about right now.

  I shout some other things, too. Probably inappropriate things. But I forget what I’m saying as soon as the words leave my mouth.

  I believe I’m shouting something particularly offensive when I feel someone tugging on my elbow. When I look down, I see a familiar face there.

  Sophia.

  Through the dizzying buzz in my head, I remember that she’s exactly the thing I’m trying to avoid right now.

  Because I almost told her I lo… I cut myself off mid-thought.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, frowning at me.

  “Nothing. What are you doing?”

  She doesn’t look very happy with me. “You’re drunk.”

  “No,” I say. “I don’t get drunk.”

  “You’re definitely drunk now.”

  “Am not.” I pull my arm out of her grip and loop my arm around her shoulder instead. “Let’s say you and me go find ourselves a drink or two.” Then I remember the bottle of vodka in my other hand. I offer it to her.

  “No, thanks,” she says.

  “Suit yourself.” I take another swig.

  We stumble back inside.

  “Look,” she says when the door is shut behind us. “I might just go back to the room.”

  “Why?”

  “This isn’t what I expected,” she says, looking around at the party. “And I’m not sure I want to be around you when you’re like this.”

  “Like what?”

  She looks at me like I’m an idiot. “When you’re drunk.”

  “I’m not drunk,” I insist. “I’m just having a little fun. You should, too.” I try to offer her the bottle again, but she pushes it aside.

  “No,” she says. “I’m going to bed. Try not to do anything too stupid.”

  I try to grab her arm as she walks away, but I miss. Funny, my coordination seems to be off.

  When she’s gone, I tell myself not to worry. This is a party, after all. And parties are supposed to be fun.

  So I take another chug of vodka and try to convince myself that everything is okay.

  Sophia

  I’m halfway down the hall before I realize I don’t have the key to Pax’s suite. I suppose it’s a lucky thing that I have my own room on the floor below—Pax won’t know where I’ve gone, and I’m in no mood to be babying a drunken man.

  What was I thinking, anyway? That someone like Pax could actually care for me? Even if he did almost say that he loved me, it’s pretty obvious now that it was just a slip of the tongue. He felt the need to immediately go out and get drunk to forget how close he was to saying those words.

  I tap anxiously at the elevator button. The music is so loud even in the hallway that it’s already giving me a headache. And it’s doing nothing to still the angry churning in my stomach.

  As I press again at the down button to return to my floor, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

  Pax spins me toward him, and in the process almost knocks himself over. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I narrow my gaze, not saying a word as I turn back to the elevator, pressing again at the button. Why is this taking so long?

  “I asked you where you think you’re going.” He grabs my shoulder again, but his hand slides immediately to my forearm.

  I turn back to him, shrugging his arm from mine as I place my hands on my hips. “Away from you, Pax.”

  “Oh, away from me.” His words slur together. “And where would that be?”

  I shake my head. “What was the point of this?” I motion toward him. “That you needed to get this drunk?”

  “I told you…” He staggers toward me. “I’m not drunk.” He reaches for me and misses, his hand falling just above the button for the elevator. He pauses there for a moment before leaning against the wall.

  “Then you should have been an actor instead of a singer.”

  He laughs as he starts to slide down the wall. “You know what your problem is?”

  “No, Pax. What is my problem?”

  “You expect too much.” He shakes his head as his legs begin to buckle, and he slides to the flo
or. “You think I’m a good person, and I’m not.”

  “Believe me, at the moment, I do not think that at all.” I press again at the button over his head.

  “You…you wanted me to say it. And I won’t.” His words slur together again.

  “I don’t want you to say anything, Pax.” Even if part of me wanted him to tell me he loved me tonight, everything about this is leaving me with nothing but a feeling of disgust. “Particularly if this is what happens when you feel something.”

  “That’s it, though. I don’t.”

  “You don’t what?”

  “Feel. I don’t…feel. Anything.”

  “Well, with as much alcohol as you’ve had tonight, that doesn’t surprise me at all.”

  The elevator finally arrives, and I try to step around him to enter, but he catches me by the leg.

  “Don’t just go. We were having a…talking. A con… A convict? No. A contest. No, a con—”

  “A conversation, Pax.” I try to pull my leg from his grasp, but he only holds tighter. “But it’s very difficult to have a conversation with someone as drunk as you are right now.”

  “Just…come back to my room. You don’t have to leave.”

  I’m not sure what possesses me—or why I even want to stay here with him when the thought of an actual feeling drives him to have to drink—but I stare down at him as the elevator doors close. “Fine. I’ll help you back to your room. But only because I don’t think you can make it there on your own.”

  “I could…if I wanted to.” He lets out a slurred laugh. “You won’t regret it. I’m going to fuck you…and then I’m going to fuck you again.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that you’ll be able to function in your current state.” I shake my head at him again as I lean down to help him up.

  He stumbles to his feet, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “You’ll see. Besides, I told you…I’m not…drunk.” He can barely get the words out as I try to get him to walk toward the door to his room.