Hard Lesson: A bad-boy, rock star romance

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Hard Lesson: A bad-boy, rock star romance Page 10

by Savannah Skye


  Yes.

  His heart stopped beating in the space it took for Cheri to reach him.

  "Did I do something wrong?" she whispered, the pulse in her neck beating so wildly, he could see it.

  He stared at this beautiful woman, unable to speak, his heart thundering in his chest. Dev grabbed her hand, and pulled her with him as he opened the service door ahead of them. They entered into a brightly lit hallway, and he pushed her against the wall. Leaning into her, he slanted his mouth over hers with a groan. He pressed his body against her and she whimpered.

  His patience was a thing of the past, and he slid his hands up to cover her breasts. Using his thumbs, he brushed against the sensitive tips of her nipples and she mewled low in her throat. Through her thin dress he pinched lightly, and she gasped, making his cock buck in response. He pressed his hips into hers, grinding his aching length against her soft pussy.

  Her creamy breasts were inches from his face, rising and falling with her ragged breaths. Dev slipped his hand to the back of her dress and tugged, releasing the clasp on her bra effortlessly. She sighed as he peeled the soft black fabric from her shoulders, unleashing her breasts into his waiting hands. He cupped those globes in his hands kneading them with his fingers, mad with lust.

  “Dev?” she said. Her face flushed a lusty glow.

  “Ssh, shh,” he said. Dev buried his face into her cleavage, kissing and lapping her tender flesh as he worked his way to her tight, pink nipples. She trembled in his arms as he sucked the tender flesh into his mouth. It hardened under the ministrations of his tongue and she drew in quick intake of breath when his teeth caught and nipped at her.

  She quivered in his arms. Good lord, she tasted as sweet as candy and her body vibrated at his touch. Could she any more perfect?

  His cock, hard as steel, ached with the need to have her.

  “Dev,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.”

  Stop? How could he, especially with the look of pure desire and bliss in her eyes? His body and his mind warred for supremacy, one arguing for good sense and the other for taking this gorgeous woman against the wall.

  Either way he would lose.

  But all thought ceased as his mouth crashed into hers again. She flexed her hips against his, trapping his erect cock between them, then she ground her body into his swollen shaft, sending spikes of need through him.

  Dev was close to losing control as she nipped at his his lip, and what should have been pain was pure pleasure.

  Somewhere, a million miles away or just a few yards, a door opened and closed, and the clatter of road cases on wheels invaded the space. He jerked away, and pulled off his jacket throwing it over her shoulders, shielding her with his body moments before a before a group of catering staff round the corner and walked past.

  They didn’t blink an eye as they entered another doorway.

  Dev’s head was still reeling when he pulled up the dress around her shoulders, clasped her bra, and zipped her dress. He took his jacket from her hands and slipped it back on.

  "You," he ground out, "pass sexting. And you made up the section on kissing. But we’ve got to get back. I’ll go in first and distract anyone important watching,” Rory, “And you follow in a minute.”

  He opened the service door and walked back into the crowd of people nursing the world’s worst case of blue balls in the history of man. Nothing had changed. Nothing had been settled.

  The only thing he was sure of was that, at this rate, Cheri Galveston was going to be the death of him.

  What the hell was that?

  If she didn't feel so weak in the knees, she would have grabbed Dev and kept him there, screw it if someone saw them.

  She held her fingers to her mouth and let out a groan.

  It wasn't as if she'd never been kissed. But kissing Dev was more than two sets of lips touching. He elicited feelings from her that she never imagined. Her own explorations of her body with her fingers didn't do half as much for her as Dev’s fingers skimming across her nipples. And when he ground his thick cock into her, every nerve ending caught fire. In the primal way that only her body understood, it wanted more.

  Oh, she knew the mechanics of it, but she had no clue how amazing it was to touch another human being that you were so unbearably attracted to. And it was Dev’s faces she saw thought of whenever she’d experimented. Dev she wanted, poised over her as he slid deep. Dev, brushing the hair from her face as they rocked together beneath the sheets.

  And now that she’d had a taste of the real thing? She wanted nothing more than to give him everything she had. If he had wanted to take her in the hallway, she would have let him.

  Because she loved him. It wasn’t a teenage crush or a fantasy. She was more sure of that than ever.

  Do you honestly think he wants you--to keep you, when he could have movie stars and sex goddesses?

  She argued with the better part of herself, where good sense and better judgment resided. If she could have him just once, then at least she’d have that memory to keep for the years ahead. And who better to give her virginity to than the man she’d loved for most of her life? Because every part of her body burned for Dev Lachlan's touch, for his mouth on hers, and for the promise of more in those kisses.

  She took a few deep breaths with her back against the cool wall of the service hall to compose herself. She was nearly calm when the service door flew open, startling her. Gina stalked in with a dark expression on her face, looking down the hall first and then her eyes lit on Cheri.

  "Cheri?" she said her face softening. "What are you doing here?"

  "Um, getting a breath of air," she said stupidly.

  "Are you feeling okay? You looked flushed."

  Cheri blushed even more now that Gina stumbled over her sexual near-adventure, but Gina was still talking.

  "You scared me," Gina said. "I thought one of those industry sharks seduced you."

  Cheri forced a laugh. "You thought what? Oh, Gina, that's ridiculous."

  Gina's eyes look her up and down.

  "In that dress, I don't think so. Any way, Richard called me looking for you. He needs you backstage to help with the load-in. What happened to your phone?"

  Cheri’s face flamed as she felt for it on her body and found it had slipped to her waist. She dimly remembered the phone had buzzed while she was making out hot and heavy with Dev. But there was no way, no how she was going to stop kissing Dev to answer it.

  "I must have forgot had it on silent," she said lamely.

  "Uh huh," said Gina. Her voice held suspicion, but she stopped her probing of the issue. "Well, Cinderella, time to leave the ball before your coach turns into a pumpkin."

  She turned to go but Gina stopped her.

  “Wait," she said her eyes focusing on a spot on the floor by Cheri's feet, "did you drop your camera? I hope the pictures didn't get lost."

  "No," said Cheri. It must have slid off her shoulder without her thinking about it when Dev kissed her. "I just set it down for a minute.”

  Gina fanned her face with her hand. "You aren't the only one that needs air. Go. Get. Richard is buzzing me again, and considering where I put my phone, it s having the most curious effect on me."

  "You sure you’re okay?"

  "Go," said Gina with an imperious wave of her hand. "I'll handle the sharks, you go handle Richard. Go that way," she pointed down the longer part of the hallway that stretched to the back of the building, "and you'll meet up with buses parked there."

  The memory of Dev's kisses sent electric shocks through her as she made her way out toward the lot. She felt as if she was walking in a dream until she shucked her dress inside the empty bus. She spilled out the new clothes on the bed, marveling over how perfect every piece of clothing seemed to be for her. There was a pair of black leather pants, and she smiled at the thought of Dev seeing her in them. When she put the soft, buttery leather on it hugged her like a second skin. With the thigh high boots, a red sleeveless tank and a black leather vest,
she thought she looked more like a rock star than the boys did.

  She remembered to put on her band identification, and grabbed her tablet to get to work.

  "Thank god," said Richard when he finally saw her. "Where have you been?"

  "Rubbing elbows with the rich and famous. I thought you were too?"

  "Me? Hell, no. I put an appearance, but I can't trust these bozos to tie their own shoes, let alone dress a set, so get to work." He started down the hall toward some unnamed task.

  "Aye, aye, captain," Cheri said, popping off a snappy salute.

  He turned on his heel. "That's not a nickname is it? It better not be a nickname. I hate those."

  "Says the man that calls me Bug."

  "Well, that's your name isn't it?" He pulled out his phone, swore and dashed away.

  "My name's Cheri," she called out loudly after him.

  But contrary to Richard's opinion, the crew of Sub-Zero was extremely competent, both in their own tasks and in handling the union crew of the venue. And a beautiful one it was too. Cheri nearly lost her breath when she stepped out on the stage and saw the sweeping arc of the three stacked balconies and the expanse of the first floor seats that marched under them. Twenty-five hundred people would pack this auditorium tonight.

  Behind her, the backdrop tumbled, revealing the logo of Sub-Zero, and Cheri's heart swelled with pride for the five men that made this happen. The boys she followed, cajoled and teased had grown into this incredible force of nature called a rock band.

  An arm slipped around her shoulder, and she didn't have to look to recognize Richard's familiar cologne.

  "Yeah," he said. "It's pretty damn awesome."

  "I used to listen to them play in Dev's mother's garage," she said. "They sounded like crap."

  "Pretty much," he said, "they all do, at the beginning."

  "I wonder what's going to happen now that they are going national. You hear stories about other rock bands, how they go off the rails."

  "Yeah, that's true. I've seen it too. But those bands didn't have what Sub-Zero has. And that's you. I don't think you realize it, but you’re part of this too."

  "What? No way. I’m just a spectator, mostly."

  Richard shook his head. "No, Cheri. You’re the person that keeps things real for them, the person that reminds them where they came from. They didn't have to bring you on tour, and if you weren't important to them, all of them, they wouldn't have.” He looked down at her leather pants and boots. "I'm glad you are finding more confidence, but don't forget where you came from, or these boys might forget too."

  She watched him walk away, his words ringing like a funeral dirge behind him. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? For the guys to view her differently? Especially her brother and Dev.

  But she couldn’t deny, a part of her went ice cold at that thought that this could all backfire. Her relationship with the two most important men in her life had been complicated, but she’d always known at the end of the day that they had her back. She’d never be alone or without a friend.

  Was this crazy lesson thing with Dev going to cost her that and more? Because as good as it had felt, she couldn’t imagine a world where a guy who commanded all this…the amazing venue, the screaming crowd, the adoration of thousands, could ever wind up with a woman like her. So she was risking it all for a fleeting reward.

  She could put on a pair of leather pants, but at the end of the day, she’d always be Bug. And the odds of her brother and Dev both seeing her as anything else long-term were slim to none.

  A chill shot down her spine as the truth settled deep into her bones. Hitching her heart to the shooting star that was Dev Lachlan could be the biggest mistake of her life.

  And it scared the shit out of her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dev was never so glad to get out of party in all of his life. He thought groupies and fangirls were bold, but the women in that party operated on a whole different level. His phone was stacked with new numbers of women, and a couple men, that he'd never call. Dev entered them out of politeness, and Bill, watching him, nodded his head in approval.

  "Keep them," he said. "You'll never know when you need them."

  But there was only one woman he wanted to call, and he knew she was busy working.

  He thought back to their make-out session in the hallway and winced. His cock was still painfully hard, but he shouldn’t complain. They’d been saved by the bell. Fooling around and helping her out with this scheme was one thing. Fucking her--in semi-public against a wall, no less?--would’ve been a catastrophe.

  He had to kick his self-discipline in gear if he was hoping to survive this tour without destroying one, and possibly two, friendships.

  He sucked down half a bottle of water to ease his scratchy throat and peered out the bus window. This tour was turning out to be hard on more than just his dick. He wasn't used to singing every night, and the big note vocals were definitely causing a strain.

  Why hadn’t he thought about that when they’d made their schedule? Oh yeah, right. Bill wanted to minimize costs by knocking out the tour on successive dates. It had sounded like a good idea at the time. Now, it seemed borderline insane.

  Rory stepped up from the back of the bus and gave him a nod in greeting. "Hey, I'm going inside. The venue is providing catering for us this stop."

  "Who told you that?" asked Dev.

  "Gina, of course."

  "Of course."

  Connor poked his head out from the curtains in his upper bunk where he’d been napping. "Food? Real food? I'm in."

  "You coming?" said Rory to Dev.

  "I'll be there shortly. I need a few more minutes downtime."

  The mention of chow had sparked the interest of Mac and Quinn as well, and the four of them thundered out of the bus in the hunt for nourishment. Dev was alone when he took out his phone.

  What's the remedy for a scratchy throat?

  It sure as shit wasn’t her problem, but he couldn’t deny that contacting her had been his first thought. When had that started happening?

  Is this your idea of sexting?

  He grinned in spite of his aching throat.

  No. I'm serious.

  Where are you?

  The bus.

  One sec.

  He waited, tapping his fingers on his thigh.

  Steam inhalation and ginger and honey.

  He let out a snort. Yeah, sure. None of that here.

  Give me a minute.

  It was more than a minute, but eventually Cheri climbed the stairs of the bus holding two Styrofoam cups.

  "Okay," she said. "One is just hot water. Breathe in the steam and reheat in the microwave when you need more. The second is some ginger tea with honey. Good thing this is such a high-class place. The server at catering didn't blink an eye when I asked for it." She set the two cups down on the tabletop he sat at and then turned to leave.

  "Where are you going?" he found himself asking.

  "Back to work,” she said, her voice going husky. “There are a ton of things to do."

  No doubt that was true. But now that she was here, he didn’t want her to go, and he had to swallow the urge to tell her he had something for her to do right here.

  He clenched his hands to keep from pulling her down to sit in his lap and finishing what they’d started. Instead, he just stared at the skintight leather pants he’d bought for her that accentuated the curves of her hips and ass. The scent of the leather and Cheri's light, sexy perfume collided to muddle his brain, and he found himself tongue-tied again.

  "Go ahead, drink your tea," she said. "And I read you should rest your voice, so don't speak unless you have to."

  Dev nodded but talking was the last thing on his mind. He wanted action. And if this was the going to be the new status quo every time he saw her? It was going to be a rough tour.

  "Do you want me to send you some food from catering so you can rest?"

  He opened his mouth to answer but snapped it
shut as she glared at him. He shook his head.

  "Okay, well Richard is blowing up my phone again, so I've got to go."

  He didn’t know how it happened. One second, he was rational. Had it all together and knew what a bad idea it was. The next, he was on his feet, instinct taking over yet again.

  He pulled her into his arms, crushing her chest against his. The leather pants felt warm to his touch, and he imagined himself sliding in between her sweet legs.

  "What lesson is this?" she asked, breathlessly.

  "What happens when you wear leather," he whispered.

  "So we’re jumping forward on the lesson plan?"

  "You could say that." He squeezed the two globes of her bottom and Cheri breathed in sharply.

  "I want to, Dev. But I really have to work. Can we take this up later?"

  He didn't want later.

  He wanted now.

  "Work can wait," he whispered as he closed his teeth over her earlobe. She made a little noise, a kind of strangled whimper.

  "No," she said pushing away from him. "It really can't."

  He stepped back and nodded. At least one of them had their head on straight.

  "Okay, later then. But don't think you can cut class."

  She smiled, but it was bittersweet, and had him looking at her harder. "Don't worry, Teach, I wouldn't dream of it."

  “You okay?” he asked gently.

  She gave him a bright smile and nodded, waving cheerily. “Fine, just super busy. Talk to you a little later.” She turned and made her way down the aisle of the bus, give him a head on view of that spectacular ass.

  Dev watched every step of the way and listened as she walked down the stairs of the bus, then he thunked his forehead on the table.

  God damn, that girl was driving him crazy. His cock was once again at full-mast and he briefly contemplated jerking off but the idea wasn't as nearly appealing as holding Cheri in his arms.

  He was a big boy. He could handle a little frustration.

  He breathed in the steam from one cup, and drank the tea from the other, babying his throat, trying to untangle the problem of Cheri Galveston.

  Half an hour later, his throat was feeling a little better and went to find his band mates in a room set aside for the talent. Rory was drumming on a table, while Mac was strumming a tune that Dev didn't remember hearing before. Connor worked on a bass line.

 

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