by Lauren Rowe
Oh, God, I’m lightheaded. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed this hard or had this much fun or been this sexed up in all my life. Is this how normal people live? Without a care in the world? If so, sign me the fuck up.
Out of nowhere, Zander’s words from almost a month ago pop into my head: When you’re with the Morgan family, you won’t even be the funniest, coolest person in the room. At the time, I assumed he said those words simply to lure me to show up for the “stupid” dinner I’d drunkenly agreed to attend. It didn’t occur to me for a minute he could be speaking the truth... because, come on, I’m Aloha Carmichael. But now, I can see Zander wasn’t kidding. If I’m lucky, I’m maybe tied for the sixth coolest person in this room. Maybe. And, frankly, that’s exactly the reason I’m having so much fun tonight. It’s thrilling and also a huge relief to not be the center of attention at a party. To simply be one of the gang. To just... be.
Ball Peen Hammer gets off Maddy’s lap, leaving her a blushing, giggling pile of goo. And then, as he stands before Maddy in the chair, Keane grabs at the fabric of his T-shirt like he’s about to rip it off. Well, that’s Maddy’s hard limit, apparently. She leaps out of her chair and skitters into the crowd, laughing and shrieking adorably as she goes.
Belly laughing, Keane starts to follow his shy girlfriend off the stage, shaking his head. But Ryan isn’t having it. Nope. He grabs Keane, stuffs a twenty into the waistband of his jeans, and turns his brother right back around. It’s a hilarious turn of events that sends the entire crowd into a shrieking frenzy... and visibly ignites our darling former professional stripper.
A hilarious and sexy striptease from Keane follows—a sensual, eye-popping routine that makes it abundantly clear why this boy used to be the top male exotic dancer in Seattle. And the best part? Every time Keane seems like he might be on the cusp of stopping his striptease, one of his family members laughingly stuffs another bill into his waistband, egging him on to take off a little bit more... until finally, Ball Peen Hammer is dancing before us in his Calvin Klein briefs and socks, gyrating his way around the entire circle and getting bills stuffed into his waistband as he goes.
When Keane gets around to me, I motion that I don’t have any money. Which I don’t. I never carry money or credit cards or my ID while on tour. Crystal carries all that stuff for me. Of course. But I’ve no sooner gestured to Keane than a twenty magically appears inches from my face.
Giggling like a hyena, I take the bill from Crystal... but then, rather than stuff it into Keane’s briefs, as all watchful eyes are plainly expecting me to do, I turn to Zander next to me and slide that sucker into the waistband of his pants with a wide and wicked smile.
Well, the crowd goes ballistic at that unexpected maneuver. A chant of “Go, Zander! Go, Zander!” erupts... until Zander answers the call. Without hesitation, he pulls me into the middle of the circle, obviously intending to give me—and the crowd—a show.
But I’m a little bit drunk and a lot bit horny, so I hurl myself at him, the same way I always do, and he catches me on the fly, as usual. But this time—for the first time, ever—I wrap my legs around Zander’s waist and my arms around his strong neck, pull myself up to his lips, and kiss him deeply, right in front of everyone.
At the unexpected assault of my lips on his, Zander graces me with the kiss of a lifetime. It’s a passionate kiss. An electrifying one that’s turning me on like never before—not only because of the brazen sensuality of the kiss itself, but because we’re doing it in front of everyone. Under the circumstances, this kiss feels more like a coming out party than a simple kiss. A proclamation. We’re declaring our mutual, unapologetic desire for each other and daring the world to say a goddamned thing about it.
Zander grabs my ass as he holds me up and kisses the living hell out of me and I clutch his neck fervently and devour his lips with everything I’ve got. Oh, God, it turns me on to no end to think Zander is kissing me in front of Brett and Reed... both of whom might tell Barry what went down here tonight. Which means Zander is willing to risk his job for this kiss! I mean, in reality, I’d never let Zander get fired for kissing me tonight. At the end of the day, I have to believe it’s me who’d have the last word on Zander’s employment, not Barry, if I threw my weight around enough... I think? I’ve never actually thrown my weight around in any context, let alone in the context of keeping a bodyguard employed. But, still, I can’t imagine Barry could send Zander away against my will. But, regardless, Zander doesn’t know that. I’m sure he believes he’s taking a huge risk by kissing me... and the realization that Zander is willing to do that is sending me into near-ecstasy.
As Zander and I continue kissing like animals, I sense movement around us. People filling in the circle. General dancing resuming. I break away from Zander’s heated kiss, gasping for air, and press my lips into his ear. “Bathroom.”
Chapter 35
Aloha
Zander locks the bathroom door behind us, slides me down to my feet and pushes my back against the door, all while kissing me frantically. I reach down and unbutton his pants furiously, reach into his briefs, and grip his hard, silky dick. He moans as I stroke him and I shudder and gasp, on the verge of coming right here and now from sheer anticipation. I’m so aroused, I can barely stand. He hikes up my skirt. Rakes his fingertips up my thigh, pulls the crotch of my underwear aside, and slides a finger inside my wetness, making me gyrate and coo with pleasure. I’m ready for him. Throbbing. Yearning. Desperate.
He plunges another finger inside me. Then another. I hump his fingers and claw at his broad shoulders and gulp at the air, on the very cusp of coming undone.
I watch Zander rip into a foil packet and get himself covered like his life depends on it. A moment later, he grabs my ass, slams me against the door, and plunges himself inside me.
I gasp. I’ve never been filled like this before. He’s bigger than I’m used to. Much bigger. But it feels incredible.
Zander thrusts. Once. Twice. Three times. And I come. Hard. For the first time ever with a man’s cock inside me. It’s a delicious sensation.
As my walls constrict and ripple around him, the look on Zander’s face is pure rapture. But he continues thrusting into me mercilessly, giving me yet another sensation I’ve never experienced before—being fucked through an orgasm. It’s sublime. Almost too good to bear.
I tilt my hips back and forth to take as much of him as humanly possible. Clutch at Zander’s collarbone and tug on him. Until, finally, he picks me up by my ass, crushes his mouth to mine, and impales me against the bathroom door.
The moment comes to me in fits and spurts of sensation. The wooden door against my back. Zander’s huge cock inside me. His hands gripping my ass. My heart beating like a jackhammer. The loud music on the other side of the door. The booze in my system. I feel drugged. Here, but not. Like a piece of me—my soul, maybe?—is soaring around the room through it all.
Zander growls and shudders sharply, clearly on the cusp of losing it, and a sound of pure ecstasy erupts from me.
I come.
And so does he, with my name lurching from his beautiful lips.
After he’s gathered himself, he slides me down to my feet and leans me against the door with his large frame hulking over me, his forearms and forehead pressed against the wood above my head.
I clutch his torso and press my forehead against his chest, breathing hard.
“Holy fuck,” he says.
“In love with me now?” I tease. And instantly regret it. Bad Aloha! Bad, Drunk Aloha!
But just when I’m about to say something to fill the silence, to deflect from my ill-advised joke, Zander shocks me by whispering, “Yes.”
I inhale sharply. Oh, Jesus.
I’m not shocked by the sentiment itself. I already knew Zander loves me. I wouldn’t have given him my poem to read if I hadn’t been sure of that fact. I’m just shocked as hell he actually said it to me. Out loud. Jesus! Doesn’t the man know the first rule of a tour-fling?
“Shit,” Zander mutters after my long silence. “Peenie told me to keep my big mouth shut and my big cock hard for the next two months. He told me. But I just...” He sighs. “You felt so good, Aloha. You’re better than any drug. It was so good, I felt like I’d been injected with truth serum.”
“Zander, look at me.”
He sighs, lifts his forehead from the door, and gazes down at me.
“You saying the words out loud didn’t let some cat out of a bag. The cat’s been poking his head and two front legs out of the bag for quite a while now, like ‘meow, meow, me-ow-looove-youuu!’”
I’m thinking he’s gonna laugh at my silliness, but he doesn’t. He looks anxious. He says, “When the keyboardist told you he loved you, you cut him off. Buh-bye.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, for the love of fuck, I wish I’d never told you about that goober. He’s a flea on the ass of an elephant and you’re a... what’s that huge prehistoric elephant?”
“A mammoth.”
“Yeah, he’s a flea on the ass of a mammoth and you’re the mammoth. He’s a moron and you’re Einstein. He was as interesting as paint drying and you’re the most interesting, entertaining, sweetest, cutest, most thrilling person I’ve ever met.”
A huge smile spreads across his gorgeous face. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“So... you’re not pissed at me?”
“Pissed at you? What kind of monster do you think I am?”
He lets out an audible shrug. “I dunno, Aloha. There are still two days left of month one—and you’re a two-monther.” He winks.
I scowl and pound on his hard chest. “Motherfucker! You couldn’t hold on just two more freaking days, Zander Shaw? Jesus fucking Christ, you bastard!”
We both laugh.
“I couldn’t help it,” he says. “Your magic pussy just squeezed the truth out of me.”
I giggle. “If you love me, then prove it. Don’t tell the Morgans you’ve succumbed to my charms, so I still have a shot at winning the money.”
“You could live with yourself if you won by cheating?”
“Hell yes. I want that money!”
We both laugh again.
Zander sighs. “Yeah, well, it’s too late for that. Sorry, but I already told the Morgans how I feel about you earlier tonight.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not. I told them in the skybox when my mother went to the restroom. I wanted to be sure none of them would talk about the bet in front of you or my mother or Barry at dinner tomorrow night. Like, I literally got up front and turned around and made an official announcement to make sure nobody breathed a word about my big secret to you.” He grins. “Because my big plan was to play it cool with you for the next two months.”
“Well, so much for that.”
Zander laughs, this time right from his belly, and I can’t resist giggling with him. Oh, God, butterflies—no, bald eagles—are flapping around inside my stomach. It’s a sensation I’ve never felt in my life—this electricity surging through my body, especially after having sex with someone. When the chase is over. When I’ve got the pickle collected and firmly stowed in my jar. Oh, wow, this crazy feeling in my heart—this bursting feeling—is like nothing I’ve felt before. What the hell is it?
Still giggling with Zander, I tug on his shirt. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Shaggy Swaggy. You admitting it out loud doesn’t change a thing between us. We’ll just pretend you never said it and carry on as usual, okay?”
Zander’s wide smile softens. Suddenly, everything about his facial expression screams, It changes everything, you dumbshit! But he says nothing. Not with his mouth, anyway. With his eyes, he’s quite plainly telling me I’ve just dragged a razor across his heart.
“I just meant that everything will still be great between us, that’s all,” I say. “That I’m not panicking. That’s a good thing, right?”
His shoulders relax. He sighs. “Yes. Thank God for small mercies.”
“So it’s agreed, then? We’ll still have fun and hang out and nothing will change—except, of course, we’ll now be fucking each other every night?”
I smile, but he doesn’t smile back. He doesn’t look as upset as a moment ago, but he’s certainly not jumping for joy at my proposal. But, come on. What does he expect me to say? I love you, too, Zander? That’s asking the impossible of me. “Look, there’s no need to give these feelings we’re having any kind of name,” I say. “It’s not like either of us is going anywhere any time soon. We’re gonna be stuck like glue for the next two months, no matter what. So why give it a name when we can just be together for two months, day in and day out, and enjoy ourselves?”
His jaw pulses. “I agree with that.”
“Good. Great. Plus, a lot can happen in two months’ time. By the time we get to New York, you could be sick of me. You could be the one wanting to end things, not me.”
“We both know that’s not gonna happen, Aloha. I’m in it to win it.”
“You never know. You could sprint away from me in New York like, ‘Get me the fuck away from this psycho bitch nightmare, please!’”
His dark eyes are boring holes into my face. “That’s not gonna happen. I’m all-in. If you want me, you got me. The ball’s in your court. I’m putting it all on the line. I love you.”
My chest tightens. The bald eagles in my belly from a moment ago morph into bats. Gargoyles. Velociraptors. The walls in the small bathroom are closing in on me. “I... I can’t make any promises to you, Zander,” I choke out. “It’s just not possible. Please, let’s just keep doing this awesome thing, whatever it is, and keep feeling what we feel, and having a blast and plenty of sexy times, but let’s not worry about what might happen in the future. It’ll be what it’ll be when we get to New York. We’ll know what to do when the time comes. And if we don’t, then we’ll talk about it then. Just not today.”
Zander moves his mouth like he’s going to say something but then thinks the better of it. He takes a deep breath and speaks on his exhale. “All right.” He nods decisively. “A tour-fling for the next two months, it is, hula girl. I’ll keep my big mouth shut and my big cock hard and play it cool with you all the livelong day. But, just so you know, if the new pickle you’re aiming to collect is getting me to declare my undying love to you every time I fuck you, then you’re gonna be sorely disappointed. I won’t say it again unless you say it first and that’s a fact, Jack.”
“Thank you, Baby Jesus. I’ve got no desire to collect that particular pickle. Believe me.”
“Good, ’cause it ain’t gonna happen.”
“Good.”
“Good.” He pauses. “But just so I don’t have any lingering urges to bare my soul to you going forward... there are some things I’d like to get off my chest now, just so I don’t unwittingly blurt them at any point over the next two months. Fair enough?”
“Sure. Knock yourself out.”
Zander takes a deep breath, grabs my hands, and looks deeply into my eyes. “I love you, Aloha Leilani Carmichael. Not only when I’m fucking you against a bathroom door or eating your sweet pussy ’til I make it rain. I love you when we’re simply sitting together on an airplane, watching a movie. Or working out together at a hotel gym. I love you when you’re onstage and even more when you’re off it. I love you when you’re all made up to look like a painted fantasy, but even more when you’re scrubbed clean and your hair is piled on top of your head. I love you when you’re strutting across a stage like you own the place and when you’re curled up in a ball, feeling like the weight of the world is crushing you. I lov
e you when you’re on top of my back laughing and when you’re cradled in my arms sleeping or drunk or crying.” He brushes his thumb against my cheek. “I love all the parts of you, Aloha. Not because you were on TV. Not because you’ve sold millions of records. Not because everybody knows your name. But because you’re you.” He grins. “Aloha, what I’m trying to tell you is that I love you no matter what. And nothing’s gonna change that. Not the passage of two months. Not the passage of twenty years. Not a change of cities. And certainly not the bullshit lie of calling this a fling. I love you and I’m gonna do everything in my power to make you love me back. And when you do—because, mark my words, you will, one day—I’m gonna take care of you and keep you safe, physically and emotionally, in every way. Not because someone’s paying me to do it, but because you’re my heart beating outside my body. Because you’re my reason to breathe.”
I stare into Zander’s dark eyes, feeling like I’m going to pass out.
“But since you’re obviously not ready to accept any of that as The Truth yet,” he continues, “then, okay, let’s have some bullshit fun together for the next two months. Same as always but with lots of sex added to the menu. I’m giving you my heart with no expectation or guarantees that you’ll give me anything in return. It’s yours. Do with it what you will.”
I wobble slightly, but he holds me up.
“The only thing I ask of you in return, the one thing I require, is the assurance that while we’re purportedly flinging from the rafters over the next two months, you won’t have any kind of sexual contact with anyone else. Not unless you’ve first told me you’re positive you don’t want me. That’s all I ask.”
I jut my chin at him. “How could you think I’d want anyone but you?”
“I have no idea what you want. Because, clearly, you have no idea.”
I touch his collarbone and whisper, “I know exactly what I want. You and only you. For the rest of the tour.”