by A. L. Wood
I raise my hips then drop them back down on the bed, riding his fingers and his tongue. If he doesn't give me this orgasm willingly, I’ll force it on him. It takes me off guard, how hard it hits. My orgasm still racing through my veins I’m flipped over onto my stomach.
His hands gripping my hips, his fingers sure to leave indentations. Gage rubs his cock up and down my slit, spreading my wetness. He slams into me, I meet his thrusts.
Every.
Time.
“This is going to be fast. Sorry.” He informs me, while kissing his way up my back.
“S’okay.” I say on a guttural earth shattering moan.
Sex like this, the cream-your-panties-I-dream-about-this-sex, the shit you fantasize about in bed while pleasuring yourself, it just doesn’t happen. Ever. So when you have a man in your bed that fulfills all of your wildest indulgences, it doesn’t matter how long you’ve got, you’ll make it work.
Gage reaches my neck with his lips while reaching his hand around to the front of my sex, as soon as he starts flicking my sensitive nub I burst.
A-fucking-gain.
“Fuck. Clenching. Can’t stop it.” Gage moans out as his orgasm consumes him. I ride mine out with him, like I’m a professional surfer, and it’s the biggest wave I’ve ever ridden.
When he pulls out and heads to the bathroom to remove the condom, I collapse. Right on my stomach, ass held up in mid-air.
Energy depleted.
I’m done.
Middle of the day and I need sleep. Hello Raleigh, goodbye Raleigh.
“I think we should talk.” Gage says as he sits down next to my frozen body.
I can still feel myself pulsing, my wetness seeping down between my legs.
“Can we talk when I recover and when I’m clothed?”
“Now is as good a time as any.”
What energy I do have left I use to roll over and sit up.
“Speak.”
“Obviously you know that I’m up front about shit. There hasn’t been one time I’ve led you on about anything. Correct?”
“Yes…” I reply, curious as to where this is going.
“What would you say about being friends…with no strings attached sex?”
My mouth drops open. This isn’t where I saw us going, not that I was thinking of a future for us. He’s been nothing but an asshole, and I didn’t foresee us jumping back into bed again let alone being something more than friends.
“Are you serious?” I ask. There’s no fucking way he means this.
“Why not? We have great sex, you’ll be on tour with us for two months at least. It’s convenient, and I can make a new friend.” He says dead serious.
“I’m not sure. This, you and I and sex, could already have repercussions for me with this tour. I’m not willing to risk my career, for you, for anyone, not even for great sex.” Not even for me, I say to myself.
“Listen, I’m not talking about a relationship here. Sex. No strings. You don’t owe me any explanations or disclosures, I don’t owe you any either. I won’t ask questions, you don’t ask questions. No double standards. We’ll set boundaries in place. No promising exclusivity. No expectations. Simple.”
Well, when you put it that way Gage.
“No. I’m sorry, I can’t. A simple, quick hook-up whatever, okay. It might happen, I might stop it, I might not. But I am not sitting here planning out our friends with benefits plan. Not happening.”
Anger. That’s what he has me feeling, I don’t know if I should feel insulted or belated that he considered being more than friends. Sadly, it doesn’t matter if I dissect the situation one hundred different ways under a magnifying glass, he’s never going to offer more. I could see it in his eyes, hear it in his husky voice, he doesn’t trust me. He won’t believe me, he’s been broken, and I’m not sure if he’s repairable.
I’m not sure if I want to if I can fix him.
Chapter 10
“Come on, you’re not even giving it a second thought. Think about it, you could have the best of both worlds. A new friend and a new bed partner.” Abagail, just say yes. I want to beg.
“No. I’m not changing my mind. If you want to reconsider, I wouldn’t mind being friends. But planned sexcapades isn’t my idea of a good time, let alone you fucking another woman. Thanks but no.”
She’s mad, throwing clothes out of her suitcase onto the floor. My mouth always bests me, sometimes I don’t know when to just shut it. Fix this, Gage.
“Fine, you don’t want to fuck me, can we start over then, be friends?”
That works. I see a hint of a smile on her face right before she throws her shirt over her head covering her delicious pink nipples. Nipples that I desperately want to see, again and again.
“We can start over.”
‘How about we start over at dinner?”
“Sure, what’d you have in mind?”
“We could just go downstairs, they have like four restaurants in this place.”
“Okay.”
I wade through my bag of clothes in search of something other than a band tee-shirt and a pair of jeans. Grabbing my clothes, I run into the bathroom to change quickly. I’m not a guy to linger on my attire, taking hours to pick out items that will look good on my complexion, or any fitted clothing. I grab things when I’m out shopping that I like, comfortable things. My hair gets cut when it’s in my eyes and I can’t see, I get new shoes when the soles of the pair I wear daily start to ware and tare.
I’m not a thrifty person when spending money, but I don’t see a need to waste cash away on things that don’t matter. Money is money, it’s not who I am, it’s not what I care about, unless the person is only interested in me because of the money I possess.
Abagail has me riveted, I’ll give her that but, and it’s a definitive but, I still have no trust in her. Something I have to keep reminding myself, before I fall into that well of emotion and expectations before I come to rely on her as someone I can count on, someone I can put my faith in blindly.
Changed, I walk out of the bathroom in a pair of tan khakis pants and a white polo shirt. Something I keep on hand when I do have to put a small effort into dressing, dinner in a restaurant calls for effort.
“Well, don’t you look all spiffy?” Abagail says with a light in her eyes.
“Why ma’am are you finding humor in my attire?” I say while placing my hand on my chest and gasping, pretending to be offended.
She laughs a beautiful melody, “why sir this is the first time I’ve seen you in something other than a rugged shirt and ripped jeans.” She mocks me.
“You’ve seen me but a few times.” I point out that fact.
“Just because I’ve only seen you in person but a few times doesn’t mean I haven’t seen you on television, in magazines, all that stuff.”
“So you’ve followed the band then? Are you a fan Abagail? Please tell.” I ask my lips twisted into a grin.
She blushes a light hue of pink. “Just a little. I love music, of course, I’ve heard of Steele’s Army, you guys are all over tabloids all the time. How could someone not know of you guys?” She brushes it off nonchalantly.
Which is the same reason she gives herself away to myself. There’s nothing more apparent than when someone tries brushing a question away, deflecting. She’s nervous and embarrassed, I bet she’s been a hardcore fan for a while.
Another cause for me to be weary of getting involved in anything with her. Friendship, consensual prearranged sex, professional wise. She could want to do things that wouldn’t be about the band, but instead be about her interests, what she wants us to do. Fulfill some long loved dream, well if that’s what she has in mind I will be testing her tomorrow.
I can’t go into a friendship with her not knowing that at least, there will never be a relationship. I can’t afford it emotionally, I have people that depend on me and if I break I’ll be of no good to them.
“I’ll let you slide on that question, but make no mistake I wi
ll find you out.” I give her warning.
“There’s nothing to find out. Are we going to eat or not? I’ll go without you.” She threatens.
Dinner was nice if anything, slightly uncomfortable in the way that the two of us just had amazingly intense intercourse, something that I wanted to do again, then we shared a table while eating food after having a short conversation where she blew my idea off about friends with benefits. Just slightly awkward.
I caught myself staring at her while eating, the way her lips would enclose the spoon or the straw in her glass, made my cock rigid. Wanting it to be my cock that she was closing her lips over, running her tongue over the head of me. Swallowing what I gave her.
Instead, I end up coughing, spitting my drink down myself and spraying a little on her. She laughs, not the least bit bothered that the soda went flying in her face. After dinner, I invited her to join me on the beach, a solace to most of us in the band. She refused, saying she had work to do, which leads me to where I am now.
Commiserating in the sand. Overlooking the horizon and the water crashing my chins. Attraction can be a mind fuck of a thing, it can make you want things you’ve never dared to want. Need infests itself within you, even knowing that you don’t deserve to have. I could walk out of whatever this thing is that she and I have going, she can deny it, she can deny me, but it’s all the same, it exists. That cannot be changed if it were changeable it would have happened months ago. After she left, I wouldn’t have thought of her. I wouldn’t have thought on the words I spoke to her, I wouldn’t still be attracted nor would she be to me.
I sure as fuck wouldn’t be here, allowing cold as ice water to numb my feet. I would be in that hotel room, taking her, demanding her tell me who she is, what she wants, without a care. I wouldn’t be thinking of a way to approach this, a way to find out all of those answers without causing her harm. And I sure as fuck wouldn’t be thinking about her, about Sam. I wouldn’t be pissed at her all over again, it’s her fault I have this doubt in people. She’s at fault for my not trusting, for not wanting more, for my anger. She’s at fault for me choosing to get a different room within the hotel, far away from Abagail. Because if I am to be truthful with myself, I need to stay away from her.
In the end I will only end up hurting her, I will never give her my trust, I’ll question everything she ever says to me, every action she ever makes. What possibility does a relationship have if there is no trust to be had? Even if after discovering who she is, I can only ever offer no expectations, no questions. I won’t allow room or growth for anything else.
Samantha. I loved that woman, with everything inside of me, every single moment my heart beat, every gulp full of air into my lungs, it was all for her. My happiness rose and set like the sun, for her. I believed her to be happy, I thought she felt the same way for me. I thought that I was enough for her, enough for life. I didn’t learn what a joke I was to her and her friends until the day I proposed to her.
Samantha was beautiful, in a classic Aubrey Hepburn kind of way, long dark hair, pert lipstick coated lips. Always poised to perfection, she knew what to say and when to say it. She held herself together tightly, always tiptoeing around on eggshells. That’s not what attracted her to me at first, I thought she was snooty, too perfect, too much. Steele’s Army had already hit the top, we were successful in every way. Tours were non-stop, none of us were serious about relationships. I certainly wasn’t looking for anything long term.
She ran in my circles, when our publicist representative when on retirement, she took over. Our band ultimately agreed she had what it took. She could spin any bad story into a fairytale and sell it off to the press with the way she spoke. She impressed us, she was our go to gal for a year or so before anything started between her and me. She knew all of me, she had to, every wrong fucking thing I’ve ever done, every fling and every drunken rage, all of it. She didn’t care, she spun it around either way.
One night, she showed up to my house, gone was the perfectionist, gone was the poised and self-controlled Samantha that I knew. Instead, Sam was in her place. Beautifully broken Sam. She needed a friend, I should have questioned why she came to me of all people. I wasn’t her friend, I was her employer, and she represented me to the world. She spoke for me. She claimed that she walked in on her boyfriend of years, high school sweethearts is what she said they were, he was cheating with her best friend.
She told me she had no one else to turn to, no one to talk to, and no one for comfort. Again, I should have known. Hindsight’s a bitch, only allowing you to see the mistakes that you made when you were already facing the consequences of your decisions. We didn’t sleep together that night. Instead, we got drunk and passed out on my living room floor discussing our lives.
We became friends, not that she was ever truthful to me. We built our friendship then relationship slowly. It wasn’t a surprise when our friendship became something more, I knew it was bound, I could feel it. I was already falling for her, hard. She claimed to fall hard too, she said she couldn’t resist her feelings anymore. I dove into love with her. Willingly.
If that wasn’t the worst choice, I’ve made in my entire life than I don’t know what is. She fooled me, royally. When I proposed to her I invited all of her friends and family, I rented out an entire restaurant that was located on the roof of a hotel. I wanted to profess my love for her in front of all of our friends and family under the stars. I wanted it to be a night she wouldn’t forget.
I asked one of her friends to hold off bringing her until it was the right time, I told her I would send her a text when it was time. If only her friend hadn’t been drunk when I sent that text that I was ready. Everyone except Samantha and her friend was there, I let everyone know that she was on her way and then I ran downstairs to send a text off and await her arrival. I remember sending her friend a message that I was ready. Her reply took a minute, she mistook me for Sam’s man that was waiting in the wings for the announcement that she ensnared me.
Sam’s friend’s message had read something along the lines of ‘He’s going to propose tonight. She’s saying yes, don’t forget that she loves you and she’s only doing this for you and her. If she marries him you and she will be set for life. You just have to wait a little longer. Samantha said she loved you.”
I didn’t stay around waiting for her to arrive. Instead, I went to upstairs grabbed the guys and took off. We flew out on a red light flight to the Caribbean. I ran. I didn’t want to see her, I didn’t want to confront her. I was done. She had lied to me. She fed me lies on a spoon and I devoured it without question, no doubts. I was a fucking fool.
She repeatedly called the entire time I was there, I let her stew with what she made. What she did to me, to us. When I came home, I confronted her. She couldn’t hold the lies in forever, she claimed she still loved me and wanted to be with me, she was convinced that if she finally told me the truth she would be able to keep me. Fucking joke. I let her go on and on about her story, about how we came to be. Then I went through my apartment gathering any belonging she had left there and kicked her out of my life for good. She called on and off, thinking that we could work us out. Eventually, she gave up, our band switched to a different representative and I’ve never looked back.
I don’t allow myself to think of her often, she hasn’t been on my mind in a long time. It’s the reason I can’t be in a relationship, the reason I have no trust and the reason that I have to leave Abagail alone.
Chapter 11
It’s well after midnight and I’ve been pounding on Gages door for over fifteen minutes. Needing an explanation on why he chose to switch rooms. After dinner I went on a walk of my own, when I came back his suitcase was gone and he was nowhere to be found. I ended up in the lobby questioning the desk clerk and after arguing with her that I was with the same party, she revealed that he had gotten his room not long ago. It took some bribing, but she eventually told me his room number, so here I am.
Sinking down to the fl
oor in front of his room door, I realize he might not have switched rooms had I accepted his offer. An offer that shocked me, we had one night of sex, earth shattering, and heart melting sex then all of a sudden he hates me.
Months later he’s still holding that grudge then decides he’s not, we have sex again then dislikes me all over again because I denied him. He’s hot and cold, something I’m not fine with. Something that I came here to tell him, he needs to make up his mind, he either likes me or he doesn’t. Whatever choice he makes I will be okay with, I have to accept it. We can try to build some semblance of friendship if he wants or we can remain a professional at all times. I also plan on explaining why I declined his offer.
“Whatcha doing?” A voice that I recognize as Jason questions.
“Waiting for Gage to open the damn door.” I sigh.
“He’s not in there, hasn’t been for hours, and won’t be for a while either. Why don’t you come grab a drink with me?” He asks kindly.
I consider saying no that I’ll just stick it out and wait for Gage to arrive, but if anyone knows him, it would be one of his fellow band members.
“Sure.” I reply, Jason reaches his hand out to help me out. “Not a bar though, I don’t want to get drunk.”
“There’s a place across the street, low key, we can grab a drink there.”
“You like him don’t you?” Jason asks.
Well, he gets right to the point. I think about lying, about denying the fact that I do like Gage, more than like. What would the purpose of lying though?
“I do, but it’s not that simple. He doesn’t want what I want, I don’t think he’ll ever want the same as me, and sometimes I’m not even sure if want I want is what I need. As much as I want to like him, he might not be right for me. Hell, I don’t even know who Gage is, who he really is. He hasn’t shared anything with me, we’re not close. He doesn’t trust me, he won’t even try.” Way to reveal everything Abagail.