Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series: Box Set 1

by Charli B. Rose

  “Are we dry enough to sit in the car?” Dawson asked, running his fingertips lightly across my collarbone. “You feel dry.”

  “We should be good. Body paint usually dries faster than oil based. Are we all riding together?” I asked, as I steered Dawson out of the room.

  He headed to our bedroom to grab his wallet and phone. “Where am I going to put these?” He held them up in one hand while using the other to wave over the painted fabric hugging his legs and hips. There were no pockets in either of our outfits.

  I shrugged. “Leave them in the car with Joe?”

  “I guess we’ll have to. Not like we’ll need to call anyone. But first,” he said, motioning for me to come to him.

  He wrapped his arm around my waist then stretched out his arm to snap a picture of the two of us. “I’ll post it with a link to ‘Dear Universe’ tomorrow.”

  “Great idea.”

  The sound of a horn honking had us scurrying into black shoes then dashing down the stairs. Dawson scooped up his set of keys then ushered me out to the waiting SUV. His hand was warm on my bare back. It kept me from shivering in the cool evening air. Perhaps I hadn’t given enough thought to our costumes given that the temperature would probably be less than sixty degrees Fahrenheit by the time we left the party.

  “Nice paint job,” Joe called as we approached where he waited by the open car door.

  “Thanks,” I said with a smile as I climbed into the back of the extra-long vehicle we were taking to the party.

  Dawson settled on the seat next to me. “What the—” he said before the overhead lights dimmed and went out.

  I wasn’t sure which getup he was exclaiming in shock about because the vehicle’s cabin was shrouded in darkness before we got a chance to catch more than a glimpse of everyone else’s costumes.

  Dawson smacked his hand against the light switch on the console next to him, illuminating the interior. “Oh, my God,” he exclaimed before he burst into a fit of laughter. “Wha-what are you sup-supposed to be, Brooks? Cupid?” he finally managed to stammer out.

  Brooks had a swatch of white fabric draped around his waist with a golden rope belt helping to hold it up. His upper body was on full display. On his feet were gold colored sandals which crisscrossed up his calves. Jutting out from his back was a pair of white, feathery wings.

  “No, dude. I’m an angel. Heaven sent. And don’t you forget it,” he said indignantly.

  I managed to stifle my own laughter and the retort that was on the tip of my tongue. Not that he didn’t look great. Brooks made a sexy angel. But the idea that he was even remotely angelic was preposterous. He was the loudest, most flirtatious of the group. If there was trouble to be had, Brooks would be in the middle of it. At least he used to be that way. Brooks had been up and down lately with his moods. Something was going on with him. I didn’t want to upset or offend him when we were all hoping to have a good time.

  I turned my attention to Maddox and Gina. He was dressed in a red velvet robe that gaped open to show off his chest. An unlit cigar hung from his mouth. Gina was perched on his lap, but what little there was of her costume appeared to be a tiny, black bathing suit and rabbit ears on her head. “Hugh Heffner and a playboy bunny?” I guessed.

  Gina nodded with a giggle. I did my best not to roll my eyes.

  Instead I shifted my gaze to Wilder.

  “I’m Batman,” he declared in an affected accent, puffing out his chest where instead of a shirt, he had a painted bat emblem.

  What was with these guys and all the skin they were flaunting? The shouldn’t be any groupies hanging out at the party for them to try to score with. Just other people in the music business, some actors, maybe some models. It was an A-list party.

  “The mask gave it away,” I teased.

  Shaking my head, I checked out Jett’s outfit. Only a hint of chest peeked out of the top of his partially unbuttoned cop uniform. His arms were completely bare since the sleeves were absent from the shirt. He’d completed the look with a hat and a pair of dark sunglasses.

  “A police officer, really?” Dawson said, humor tinting his words.

  “What can I say? I always secretly wanted to protect and serve.” Jett slid his sunglasses down his nose and gave us a wink.

  During the years away from Dawson, I’d missed not just him, but I’d missed this crazy family he’d built on a mutual love of music.

  “I don’t think I’ve told you guys this yet, but I really missed you guys when . . . well, you know. And I’m so glad to be back in the middle of my crazy family,” I said with every ounce of sincerity I possessed.

  Dawson squeezed me to his side.

  “Aww, Iz, we missed you too. Missed you making us look good on our website,” Brooks said.

  “Missed your sappy romance movies and your cooking,” Wilder announced.

  “Hell, yeah we did,” Jett affirmed, rubbing his belly. “And your sunny personality.”

  “But most of all we missed the smile you brought to that guy,” Brooks said, pointing at Dawson.

  My nose burned as I swallowed the lump in my throat and blinked rapidly to keep my sudden influx of tears where they belonged.

  “I love you guys,” I said sweetly.

  “We love you too,” the guys all said in unison.

  “But not as much as I do,” Dawson growled low in my ear.

  “Hey, would you all miss me if I wasn’t around?” Gina asked.

  An awkward silence filled the car for a moment that felt like eons. But it lasted long enough for Maddox’s face to fall and hurt to flash in his eyes.

  “I’m sure everyone would miss your zest for life if you weren’t here. We just haven’t gotten to know you very well yet,” I explained hastily.

  She nodded at my words. “Makes sense.”

  “So, what are you two supposed to be, Daw,” Brooks asked, changing the subject.

  “Van Gogh’s Starry Night with a ‘Dear Universe’ spin on it,” Dawson explained, leaning forward. “Separately, we’re an unfinished painting, an incomplete song.”

  “But together we’re a completed masterpiece, a work of art,” I finished.

  “No, you guys are a work of heart,” Brooks said softly. Unreadable emotion was written all over his face as he met our gazes across the empty space in the middle of the limo.

  “Are you guys trying to make me cry tonight?” I pouted with a fake huff.

  “Nah, Izzy. We hate seeing you cry. Tears are our kryptonite,” Wilder revealed, shaking his head vehemently.

  “Good to know. I’ll remember that when we’re on tour again and you leave your dirty clothes on the bathroom floor or your dishes on the table. Tears might make you pick up after yourselves,” I teased.

  Before we could discuss it further, the car slowed to a stop. Moments later, the back door opened.

  “You guys go first, D. We’ll follow you a few minutes later. Without us, maybe the paps won’t recognize you. And you guys could use a break from the tabloids,” Brooks offered.

  “You’re right about that,” I said, giving him a grateful smile.

  “I have to admit that I was happy to see that Dawson was getting in some strength training and cardio since he’s been skipping our workouts in that photo of you two going at it against the wall outside some club,” Brooks continued with a wink.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “We were not going at it. Yet. We were only making out. And are you saying that I’m fat?”

  “What? No. How did you jump to that from what I said?” Brooks stuttered.

  “Um . . . hello? You said he was strength training. Like lifting weights,” Gina said incredulously, swatting him on the arm.

  I might like that girl a little after all. I shook my head and took Dawson’s offered hand so I could climb out of the car.

  Dawson’s arm snaked around my waist. We strolled casually up to the front door, never glancing over at that reporters, fans or cameramen gathered along the front edge of the property. No one
shouted to get our attention. Seemed our costumes prevented them from recognizing us. It had been so long since we’d been incognito.

  Dawson stepped up to the burly guy with a clipboard at the edge of the massive porch. After exchanging a few quiet words, Dawson was next to me once more.

  “Wow. Can’t believe we pulled that off,” I breathed as we slipped inside.

  The foyer was lit with flickering candles and red bulbs in the massive chandelier suspended more than ten feet overhead. Realistic spiderwebs adorned the doorways leading in various directions. Bass thumped from somewhere in the direction of the strobing fluorescent lights. Spooky sounds filtered through the space to our left. I glanced in that direction and jumped back, startled, at the sight of a very realistic zombie with a guitar strapped across his torso.

  The zombie’s brow furrowed in confusion as he approached us.

  “Bas?” Dawson asked when the walking dead guy stood directly in front of us.

  “Daw?” the voice said, lifting at the end in question.

  “Yeah, man. It’s me.”

  “Wow, you guys look amazing. I didn’t even recognize you.” His face split into a wide smile. “This is genius. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Wait until you see it under a blacklight,” I chimed in.

  “Well, come on then. There’s one this way. Let me show you around.” Sebastian held his arm out, indicating which direction we should go in.

  He led us through a large room which was dominated by a grand piano. It was propped open. As we walked by, an arm reached out and brushed my shoulder.

  I shrieked and jumped against Dawson.

  Dawson and Sebastian both erupted in giggles, while I clutched my hand over my thundering heart. “Not funny,” I growled when I caught my breath. I shuffled around in front of Dawson until I was positioned between the two men. “Now, if we encounter something scary, it’ll get one of you two first.”

  Dawson’s strong arm wound tightly around my waist. “I’ll be your hero,” he said with a wink.

  We wove our way toward the back of the house, passing party-goers dressed from creepy characters to music icons to kiddie characters to things I couldn’t quite figure out. Each room we walked through had a theme.

  “I love your house. This place is amazing,” I said, peering up at Sebastian.

  “Oh, it’s not my house. Nobody lives here anymore. The label owns it. We use it for music video shoots, parties, events, and we even use the recording studio occasionally. Once we settled down, we didn’t want to live in a party house anymore with our families. We wanted somewhere less accessible to the crazies,” he explained.

  “I know what you mean, dude,” Dawson said over my head.

  “Anyway, snacks are that way.” He pointed to the left. Then spun in the direction of a set of French doors. “Pool’s through those doors. But I’m guessing you’re going to want to stay away from that. And DJ’s in there, spinning some tunes.” He indicated a massive room filled with flashing lights and writhing bodies.

  “Let’s dance,” I said, tugging Dawson in the direction of the pulsating crowd.

  As we crossed the threshold into the room, the dancing lights landed on our painted flesh, charging the glow in the dark paint which decorated our bodies.

  “Damn, you guys really are a starry night,” Sebastian exclaimed. “If we had an award for best costume, you guys would win, hands down. Maybe you should consider adding body painter to your list of commissions.”

  Pride swelled in my heart over my unique idea and the execution of it.

  “Hell no. She’s not putting her hands or brush on anyone’s bare flesh but mine,” Dawson snarled.

  Sebastian laughed. “Enjoy the party. Let me know if you need anything. I have to go mingle,” he said, pulling Dawson into a one-armed bro-hug, then engulfed me in a full embrace.

  Dawson and I immersed ourselves in the room filled with gyrating couples. After a few beats, we became one of them. We settled into our old familiar rhythm. I casually rested my hands on his shoulders. He stooped, putting his eyes on level with mine. Lights flickered in them, illuminating so much love with each flash that it stole my breath. His thigh wedged between mine. The fabric on our lower halves was too thin to mask the heat building between us. Dawson’s hands gripped my hips, guiding my movements, making my core slide against his leg every so often. I fought each moan that threatened to slip out.

  The room grew more crowded as the night wore on. With each song, Dawson adjusted our movements, our cadence. His lips landed on mine as his palms slid around to grip my butt cheeks. For a while, I allowed myself to forget about our surroundings. The only thing that existed was his arms clutching me tightly, his body moving seductively against mine, his words of love murmured against my mouth, his lips devouring mine like I was his first meal after a month-long hunger strike.

  When he finally gave me space to breathe, I said, “We shouldn’t sweat. It’ll wreck our paint.”

  His chest reverberated against mine with his deep laughter, making my nipples tighten. “I want to do more than wreck your paint, flutterby. I’m ready to obliterate your masterpiece. To devastate your body with mine. It’s time for our universes to collide. The question is, are you ready to leave the party and celebrate with just me, or do you want me to find us a quiet corner where I can slip your pants down and take you against a wall somewhere?”

  Fire licked my skin everywhere. I swallowed hard as I contemplated my choices. “Home. We’re not painted under our pants. Bare skin against all the dark paint will make us stand out too much. I wouldn’t be to sell we were just kissing to my parents if your bare ass was in a tabloid photo.” I stepped back and began to yank his arm to steer him to the front of the house. “Should we try to find the guys? Say goodbye?”

  “Nah. It’ll take too much time to try to track them down in this madness. We’ll text them from the car and send Joe back for them once he drops us off. If we see them as we pass through, we’ll let them know.”

  We moved through the rooms, now filled with a lot more people, like we were on a mission. We were. A mission of pleasure. Thankfully, we weren’t easily recognizable, so no one stopped us on our way to the front of the house. When we entered the front room with the piano, I slowed down. Brooks was perched on the piano bench, with a scantily clad devil giving him a lap dance. “Hey, there’s Brooks,” I said, turning us in that direction.

  “I see you found your hell,” I joked.

  His lips tipped up in the slightest smile. But it didn’t reach his eyes. “I guess so. Time will tell,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe I was already there before we even arrived.”

  His words were concerning. But before I could question him, he pasted on a huge grin and turned to Dawson. “Bailing already?”

  “Um . . . Yeah. We’ll send Joe back for you guys as soon as he drops us off,” Dawson said, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck.

  “No problem. I get it, dude. Really I do. Nice work with the costumes, Izzy,” he said, turning his attention to me.

  I reached my arm in between him and the sexy devil, still grinding her crotch against his lap. I pulled him into a brief hug. “I hope you have fun and that you find whatever it is that you’re looking for. I miss your smile,” I whispered in his ear.

  He pressed a kiss to my painted cheek. “Make sure this guy makes you come at least three times before he does. And then make him shout your name,” he said loudly then gave me a wink.

  “You can be such a pervert sometimes,” I scolded.

  “I always make her come several times. I’ll have you know, I’m a very giving lover.” Dawson puffed out his chest then shot me a scorching look. “Maybe I’ll start on the ride home.”

  Heat flooded the apex of my thighs. I shifted my weight, desperately needing some friction. This man certainly knew how to stoke my desire. “Let’s go,” I rasped out. “We have a date with a big bang.”

  “See ya,” Dawson called out to Broo
ks over his shoulder.

  Within a few minutes, we were in the backseat of the stretch SUV. “How long do you think it’ll take to get us home,” Dawson asked Joe.

  “Traffic going in the direction of your house shouldn’t be too bad since most of the flow is heading in the opposite way. Ten minutes if you’re lucky,” Joe said as he turned onto the main highway.

  “Perfect,” Dawson said. He pressed the button to raise the privacy glass. “I only need three minutes to make you come the first time.”

  He tugged me onto his lap. Hot, hardness nestled against my core, making me ache. His hands were everywhere all at once. I was bombarded with sensations. Calloused fingertips gently eased the fabric of my bikini top away from my skin, the glue slowly giving way so his fingers could slip inside. His other hand dipped beneath my waistband, touching and gliding against me.

  “I don’t think it’s going to take three minutes,” I panted.

  He moved his fingers, playing my body like his beloved guitar. He knew all the right notes to hit and how long to hold them in order to make me sing.

  “You’ve been a good girl. I think you deserve a treat this Halloween.” He nipped my lower lip with his teeth, then claimed my mouth just in time to swallow my cries of ecstasy.

  A gentle knock on the privacy glass roused me from where I floated in a haze of bliss. Joe had barged in on a few compromising moments with pretty much each of the guys. He’d learned to knock instead of throwing open the back door.

  “Come on,” Dawson panted into my mouth. “I need you. Like hours ago.” He pressed my pelvis against his twitching erection for a few torturous seconds.

  He helped me scramble to my feet, then he flung the door open. With my hand tucked in his larger one, he tugged me out into the night air. We stepped to the front passenger window.

  Dawson leaned his head in. “Thanks for the ride, man. Hopefully the other guys won’t keep you out too late. See ya later,” he said in a rush.

  “Go, go. See ya,” Joe said, waving us off.

  As Joe pulled away, the gate rumbled closed behind the vehicle.