His strong hands pulled her cheeks apart, exposing her fully. Any awkwardness Kensie felt about being so bare in front of him disappeared as soon as she felt his wet, warm tongue stroke her opening with long, deliberate licks. He lapped at her greedily, slobber dripped down her crack; the sensation fueled her desire.
He was not soft.
He was not gentle.
But he was everything she never knew she needed. Kensie teetered on the edge of the mountain, needing one final push, shove, fucking drop kick, to send her, plummeting, spiraling, falling. She wasn’t above begging for a release. “Please.” Her voice cracked under the assault of his mouth. She ground her ass onto his face, seeking the relief her body so desperately needed. “Please.” In that moment Kensie would give him anything just as long as he kept his mouth on her. “PLEASE!” she screamed, not caring who heard her.
CT stood, and Kensie nearly wept at the loss. He flipped her onto her back and the wobbly table dipped at the unexpected weight. His mouth was on her again, sucking her clit, while his finger slid inside her. He added a second finger as he dragged his teeth across the little ball of nerves at the apex of her thighs, pumping into her, driving her closer and closer to the edge.
Kensie writhed under him uncontrollably. “PLEASE.” She dug her hands into his brown mane and pulled him into her, riding his face until an orgasm tore through her small frame.
CT bit the inside of her thigh and then he stood again, taking the heat from her body with him. Gasping, Kensie lifted up on her elbows and watched with unadulterated lust as he unzipped his skinny jeans, pulling them down enough to free his erection.
It was dark, well after 3 a.m. Kensie couldn’t see him clearly, couldn’t make out any distinguishable details, but she could tell it was big—like porn big. The way he stroked his length with long, firm tugs, she knew—she fucking knew—he was going to destroy her, and what sweet devastation it would be.
CT hit her clit with the head of his cock once, twice, three times. Her pussy spasmed. The squishing sounds his flesh made against hers as he rubbed his dick through her folds was euphoric. He smeared her wetness over his thick head before positioning his cock at her opening and diving into her, deep and without warning. Kensington’s back arched off the table. Each thrust was more brutal than the last, so deep that his balls smacked the ass he’d just eaten like it was a five-course gourmet meal, in rapid succession.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, CT tilted Kensie so each stroke of his dick brushed against her g-spot. “Does he fuck you like this?” he grunted.
“No,” she whined. The reminder of the boyfriend she loved made her body quiver. What she was doing was wrong, but the taboo situation only drove her desire for the tattooed man thrusting wildly inside her.
CT’s thumb found her clit and he rubbed small circles on the little bundle of nerves, pushing her toward another release. Her muscles clenched around him as he continued pumping into her.
The table under them shook. Kensie vaguely registered sirens in the distance, but the sounds of the world quickly washed away as another orgasm ripped through her body.
“FUCK,” he growled quickly, pulling out just as he started to come, pumping warm semen over the front of her dress. “Shit, sorry,” he said pulling off his shirt. He cleaned the mess as best he could before shooting her a sheepish look.
“Oh my God!” she giggled, covering her face in her hands. “I’m on the pill, you jackass.”
“You shouldn’t be wearing shit like this anyway,” he grinned, tugging her upright. He yanked up his pants, not bothering with the zipper, then wrapped her legs back around his waist, lifting her off the table. “I think there’s merch in the garage, t-shirts, hoodies, sweatpants and shit. Something should fit.”
Kensie nodded, biting down on her lip.
“Stop it,” he groaned.
“Sorry,” she giggled again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled into him as he carried her back into the house, her ass still fully exposed and his semen staining that fucking red dress.
“Hello?” Kensie rasped into her iPhone, her voice thick with sleep. She was so exhausted she almost hadn’t heard it ringing. She definitely didn’t bother to check the name flashing on the display. She felt like she’d been hit by a bus.
“Good afternoon, sunshine,” Trey’s familiar baritone rang in her ear.
“Afternoon?” she mumbled, taking in her surroundings. Her dress lay crumpled in a heap. One Louboutin sat on the nightstand, the other thrown in the corner of the unfamiliar room. Shit. Everything came back to her in pieces, and the grogginess dissipated as the realization of her current situation washed over her. The dress. The bar. The van. The party. The strong tattooed arm draped around her body. One bad decision after another culminating in the biggest mistake of all—fucking CT on the folding table. How could she have been so stupid?
“It’s one o’clock in the afternoon, Kensington.”
“One?” Her life was turning into one big fucking cliché.
Trey chuckled. “I take it you and Jamie had a late night?”
“Ugh,” she groaned. If he only knew. “Yes. She dragged me to some bar downtown and we guzzled shots of tequila like we didn’t have any morals.” She opted for a redacted version of the truth, no need to lie any more than necessary.
“I bet. Did you have fun?” he asked
“I guess. It wasn’t really my scene, though.”
“Oh really?” the man behind her grumbled as pain shot through her bottom. CT was awake and listening, and the fucker actually pinched her. She tried to stand, but his grip on her tightened.
“What time’s your flight?” she asked, hoping Trey didn’t pick up on the hesitation in her voice.
She could feel CT moving behind her, grinding his hips into her backside. His afternoon wood poking her ass made it difficult to focus on Trey.
“In about an hour. We just got to the airport.”
“Good, I miss you.” The truth, even if another man had been inside her mere hours ago. Even if she had to fight the urge to wiggle against his cock.
“I miss you, too. I could just come straight there?”
“No!” she yelped as the troublemaker slid his hand up her new “Lady Lithium” t-shirt. He twisted and pulled at her nipple, planting tiny wet kisses down the side of her neck. She bit back a moan, then silently counted to five before speaking. “Mmm…it’s Sunday. I’ll be at my parents’. You should go home and get some rest. Come to my place later tonight.”
CT’s hand slipped down the front of her body, his fingers gliding over her soft skin, igniting the need forming at her center. His nails grazed her clit and before she could stop him, two of his fingers found their way inside her still swollen vagina. “Stop it,” she hissed, trying and failing to move his hand.
“Oh, that’s right,” Trey continued, thankfully oblivious to what was happening on the other end. “Maybe I’ll swing by your folks’ place. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen your dad.”
“Mmm…sounds great, baby.” She hoped he’d confuse the need in her voice for sleep.
Please, God, let this be over soon.
Please.
“Baby?” CT growled, finally releasing her from his grasp. She scooted up into a seated position, shooting daggers in his direction, silently praying for actual daggers to fly out of her sockets.
What the fuck was his problem?
Her blood boiled. She was so angry she almost missed what Trey said next. “Okay, sleepyhead, we’re heading through security. I’ll text you when we land. I love you.”
“I love you too,” she replied, fighting the urge to stick her tongue out at the drummer. He sat back on his haunches at the end of the bed looking like a lion waiting to pounce. She triple-checked to be sure the call ended before gritting out, “What. The. Fuck. Was. That?”
“Me?” he asked incredulously. Like he wasn’t just fondling her for her boyfriend to hear. “You’re in my house, in my bed, naked
from the waist down, and you have the balls to be talking to that cornball!”
“That cornball is my boyfriend. The one I never lied about. You knew what this was and you pursued it anyway. Like some sick and twisted game.”
“Not a hard one either.” Anger ricocheted from his body—still crouching—he looked like he wanted to swallow her whole.
He was a pig. She knew it last night, but lust and alcohol had temporarily convinced her otherwise. She didn’t need this shit. This was supposed to be fun. She needed to get her stuff and get the fuck out of there, fast.
She moved to stand. “I fucking hate you,” she growled, ignoring the moisture pooling between her legs.
“But you love fucking me,” he spat, lunging towards her dragging her back onto the bed. He flipped her onto her stomach, smacking her hard on the ass. Kensie never thought she could feel this level of disdain for someone. She’d also never been so turned on. Ever.
As if on cue, the head of CT’s afternoon wood pushed its way inside of her, balls deep and without warning.
“FUCK,” she screamed, forcing her hips back to meet his thrusts. She concentrated hard on clenching and unclenching the walls of her vagina, not to please him, but to torment him the way he tormented her.
This wasn’t the sweet lovemaking she shared with Trey, or the primal lust from last night. This was something different, something darker. She was hate fucking the drummer from Lithium Springs and she hadn’t even bothered to catch his real name. The rage she felt for him in that moment grew like a cancer inside of her, fueling her lust. Each stroke drove her closer and closer to the edge. CT fisted a hand in her hair, her neck jerked back, and Kensie yelled out at the discomfort. Her body contorted as he pounded into her. It was pleasure and pain and lust and contempt all wrapped into one taboo and tattooed package.
Her body trembled—she was losing control. The orgasm that ripped through her body was hands down the most intense, most satisfying climax she had ever experienced.
CT shuddered behind her. His hips swiveled into her one, two, three more times before he collapsed on top of her. They lay there, limbs intertwined, and gasping for air.
Guilt washed over Kensie as she came down from her high. She’d known what it felt like to be betrayed and she swore she would never cause someone she loved that kind of pain. Yet, there she was in bed with a man she could barely stand.
Kensie wasn’t risking a future with Trey for the great love of her life, she was risking it all for a drummer with a big dick.
“Do you like waffles?” CT asked, still trying to catch his breath.
“This was fun, but I think it’s time for me to get back to my real life.” He could stick those waffles up his ass for all she cared. Trey should be boarding his plane any time now, heading back to Seattle, back to her. She needed to get the fuck out of there.
“What about bacon?”
It was at that moment her stomach growled. The loud, angry roar reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since before she and Jamie arrived at the Rabbit Hole.
“Bacon?” she asked. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had bacon, real bacon, the kind from a pig and not that turkey stuff everyone tries to pass off as the real thing.
“Bacon.” His voice was smug. So smug she almost told him to go fuck off but the gurgling in her stomach convinced her to let it go. She would eat his bacon and never speak to his smug ass again.
Kensie should have known the promised waffles would be frozen and in a yellow box. She also should have known the useless drummer she let fuck her twice without protection couldn’t manage to make bacon without giving himself a third-degree burn. After treating the big baby’s wound, she took control of breakfast. At least she got a new Lithium hoodie and yoga pants out of the deal.
“Is that coffee?”
Kensie turned her attention away from the eggs she’d been whisking to find the owner of the sleepy voice, just in time to catch Javi stumbling into the kitchen, the last of their motley crew to awake. He looked like shit—well, as bad as a six-foot-three rock god could, but the red-rimmed eyes, floppy hair, and dried slobber around his lips, distracted from his otherwise flawless features.
“Yup,” Ryder answered, lifting his mug. “Where’s Macy?”
“Who?” Javi replied grabbing a mug of his own from the cabinet. He gave Kensie and Jam a, “what’s this guy talking about?” eye roll, as if the girl he’d taken to bed last night was a figment of their collective imaginations.
She was trapped in Neverland, a place where the party never stopped and the boys never grew up.
“The girl who spent the night slobbin’ on your knob,” CT clarified.
“Oh. She had to go. She was a stage-five clinger.”
These men were raised by wolves.
“Dude, turn that shit off,” CT grumbled. That shit, Kensie noticed, was Javi’s phone buzzing wildly on the breakfast nook. A series of beeps and notifications illuminated the display. Whoever it was really wanted to get in touch with him.
“Is that the clinger?” Kensie asked, half-amused and half-curious. She made a mental note to ask what classified a girl as stage five.
“Nah, it’s IG notifications. It’s always like this after a show,” Javi explained. “Mostly people tagging us in pictures and posts about the show and a few DMs from enthusiastic fans.” His suggestive wink told Kensie everything she needed to know about those fans. “I’m in charge of the band’s social stuff. We’re verified on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook,” he finished proudly.
“Whatever that means.” She shrugged, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t do social media, not since she went psycho stalker on her lying, cheating ex-boyfriend freshman year of college.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re too cool for social media, too,” CT chimed. A look flashed in his eyes that she couldn’t quite interpret, mostly due to the fact that they’d just met the night before.
“Too?” Kensie shot Jam, who was sitting on the counter sporting matching Lithium gear, a sideways glance.
“Ry thinks social media is going to be the downfall of our generation.”
Kensie couldn’t argue with that. She had firsthand experience on the subject. “No, not too cool.” She returned her focus to breakfast, pouring the thoroughly whisked eggs into the waiting pan.
“Care to elaborate?” CT asked.
Not really.
Opting not to embarrass herself any further, Kensie went with her stock answer. The one she used whenever anyone asked her why she wasn’t online. “I knew social media wasn’t for me the moment my grandmother sent me a friend request.”
The room erupted with laughter and Jamie grabbed her hand, giving it a light squeeze. Jam knew the real reason Kensie avoided social media like the plague and it had nothing to do with her nana, but everything to do with how she catfished her ex. Kensie figured sharing that would land her a permanent spot in the clinger hall of fame, not that she cared. She wasn’t looking for love in that small house. She was looking for herself; she just wasn’t sure she liked who she found.
“So, let’s hear some of those DMs,” Jam said, steering the subject into safer waters.
Javi’s eyes lit up with amusement as he reached for the phone.
“Bro,” CT and Ryder groaned in unison.
Ignoring his bandmates’ protests, he opened his phone. “Okay, here’s one: ‘Hey, Ryder, I don’t know if you will ever see this, but if you do, just know that I’ll let you put it in whatever hole you want. Please Call ME,’ I assume you don’t want me to write this down?” He grinned looking from Jam to Ry.
“Dude, that’s enough,” Ryder growled.
“Here’s one for you, C: ‘CT, I want to taste your cum. CUM. XOXO.’”
“Okay, we’re done.” CT grabbed the phone from Javi and slipped it into his back pocket. He made his way to Kensie and snaked his arms around her waist. “Sorry about that,” he whispered.
“It’s fine.” She finished the e
ggs and removed the pan from the heat. She was lying, but she didn’t have the right to be upset. “I’ve got a boyfriend, remember?”
She could feel his body go rigid at the mention of Trey. Good. She wasn’t the only jealous one. “So you keep saying.” His voice was low, seductive.
Kensie knew where this was going and she needed to put a stop to it.
She needed to get back to the real world.
She needed to grow up.
She needed to leave Neverland.
Steam engulfed the bathroom. Kensie’s head fell under the steady shower stream. The near unbearably hot water soothed her aching muscles. She never realized sex could be such an intense workout. Then again, she’d never had sex like that before.
Bath products of varying size and scents lined the shower ledge. Normally, she opted for the simple lavender wash she got from Whole Foods. The scent reminded her of the community garden near her college apartment in Los Angeles. When the lavender plants were in bloom, she could smell them from her bedroom window.
This time though, Kensie chose the Chanel shower gel she knew was Trey’s favorite, and scrubbed her skin pink, determined to rid any trace of CT from her body. Soap ran down her slender frame. She watched the suds swirl down the drain, and foolishly wished the hot water could cleanse him from her mind as it did her body.
The weight of her recklessness consumed her. She was a liar, but what had her once again reaching for the Coco Mademoiselle shower gel was the realization that she didn’t regret the night she’d spent in Neverland. What had Kensie lathering Trey’s favorite scent onto her skin for the second time was the image of the bad boy rocker with the piercing blue eyes, driving wildly into her from behind.
She still felt him inside her.
Lithium Tides: A Lithium Springs Novel Page 3