Catch Me

by Claire Contreras

  “I want to take you into this room and lose myself inside of you,” he whispers roughly, voicing my sentiments.

  I bite the inside of my cheek and nod. “Okay,” I whisper in response.

  I watch the bop of his Adam’s apple as he backs away and swallows, staring at me with intent eyes. “Okay?” he asks quietly, dragging his thumb over my cheek, making me lean into it, savoring his touch.

  “Yes,” I respond while I still have enough air to get it out.

  Nick looks at me for a moment longer before his lips crash against mine as he opens the suite door, grabbing my clutch purse and tossing it along with the key before lifting me up and wrapping my legs around his waist. His lips never sway from mine. We’re frantic, me tugging on his shirt, trying to take it off. Him pulling my face closer to his, making our teeth clash against each other’s as our tongues dance together wildly. I’ve never felt this exhilarated when it comes to having sex with somebody, I’ve never felt this needed, this desire to possess and be possessed.

  “Which room?” he asks, breathing heavily against me as we break our kiss.

  “Whichever is closest,” I respond, making him chuckle darkly before he takes my lips again.

  Nick throws me down on the bed, making me yelp, and crouches down. He begins to unstrap my shoes, kissing along the top of my feet as he does it. When they’re both off, he runs his lips up my calves, kissing, nipping, and sucking as he goes. My chest is heaving by the time he stops, just below the hem of my skirt, which is now bunched up to the top of my thighs.

  “You have the sexiest legs,” he murmurs as he sucks on my thighs in a way that has me throwing my head back and gasping. “The things I want to do to you,” he whispers, so quietly that I almost don’t catch it. His words ignite a fury within my core that makes me bite down on my lip and intake a breath when I feel his fingers inching the edge of my underwear.

  “Look at me, Brooklyn,” he says. I lift my head up and notice he’s still fully dressed, the fire in his eyes burning into mine. “I need to taste you,” he says, biting down on his lip when I moan and writhe at his words. “All of you.”

  He stands, pulling me up with him, and peels my dress slowly over my head. I’m not wearing a bra since my back is exposed, and I feel the urge to cover myself up. I don’t though, because I don’t want to seem inexperienced, even if I am. Even though I’ve had sex with three guys, I’ve never been fully naked in front of any of them, not even Shea. Things have always been quick—in tour buses, bathrooms, in dressing rooms, the back of limos or cars, never like this. Never on a bed. Never with somebody that devours me with his eyes alone and makes me feel beautiful, wanted. He tugs his lip between his teeth as he trails over my mostly naked body with his hooded eyes and then he’s on me again, his mouth hot on mine as I stumble with the buttons of his dress shirt, trying to claw it off as fast as I can. By the time I manage to take most of it off with his help, it’s missing a couple of buttons and ends up in a heap with his shoes, socks, jeans, and my dress.

  I let myself fall back on the bed when Nick walks me to it, and I admire him as he strides to his jeans, taking a condom out of his pocket. His body is perfection; it’s everything I’ve never touched before. The guys I’ve been with pale in comparison to Nick. While Nick belongs on Men’s Health, they belong on the cover of Teen Bop. His arms are well defined, curving in and out at every muscle, but not overly done that he looks like a juicehead. I can read the scripted tattoo of his family name, Wilde, on his inner bicep and look at the nice musical notes over the side of his ribs. His stomach is in perfect shape but not overly cut, though I can tell he definitely works hard on maintaining it. His legs are strong and thick. When my eyes move to his again, I catch him doing his own trail of my body, and I feel a little more self-conscious now that I’m lying before him. He looks like perfection, whereas I look like a regular girl with a butt and thighs that I doubt he’s used to. The women I’ve seen around him are all thin and tall and I’m just me, somebody who does Pilates four days a week and watches what I eat. I’ll never look like any of those women, but for some reason he’s not with one of them, he’s here with me.

  When Nick looks into my eyes again, all of my insecurities take the backseat, because the only thing I see in them is blazing desire. He’s setting me on fire from the inside out. My breathing instantly turns ragged when he strides to the bed, the large erection very apparent in his boxers as he nudges my legs apart with his knees. He moves forward, placing both hands on either side of me and hovers over my mouth.

  “I forgot to tell you how beautiful you looked in your dress, but you look downright gorgeous right now,” he says in a husky whisper before placing a kiss on my lips. “Any questions before I have my way with you?” he asks, the tip of his nose trailing over my face.

  “No live-in girlfriend?” I ask just to make sure.

  Nick chuckles. “No, ma’am,” he responds, sucking my earlobe into his mouth, making me moan.

  “No girlfriends or women at all?” I ask, again, just to make sure we’re on the same page. Just to make sure I don’t get burned.

  Nick backs away from me so that I can look into his eyes. “Nobody. You’re the only one I want.”

  I swallow, allowing myself to let that sink in before wrapping my arms around his neck and bringing him back into me. “Then have me,” I say against his lips.

  He growls and delves his tongue into my mouth in response, his hands skimming my body as mine do the same to his, reveling in the way his muscles clench beneath my wandering fingertips. His mouth leaves mine and traces kisses along my collarbone and to the valley of my breasts. He takes his time exploring before finally pulling a nipple into his mouth, moaning loudly as he does and making my body bow off the bed.

  “Oh God, Nick,” I pant, pulling at his hair. He does the same to the other and moves down to my stomach, nipping, sucking, kissing, as he pulls down the black lace thong I’m wearing. Raining kisses along the insides of my thighs, he spreads them, licking and sucking close enough to my lips that my hips begin to buck in anticipation. He chuckles when the hold I have on his hair tightens, and finally he begins to lick, up and down the center of my folds, turning his head sideways to suck. He does this, teasing me, making me pant out his name once, twice, three times, before giving my clit his full attention, moaning when he pulls it into his mouth.

  “I could have this all day,” he says, his tongue diving inside of me, his words taking me on a natural high I’ve never experienced. His mouth suddenly clamps over my clit and he sucks, making my insides feel like they’re on fire, hot and cold, tingling and dizzying. My insides are fireworks as my body convulses.

  He’s kissing my stomach, making his way back to my breasts as I come down from my high and gather up everything in me to flutter my eyes open again. My vision traces his moving arm and I catch the muscles of his stomach flexing as he pleasures himself, looking down at me through half-mast eyes as he bites down on his lip. He dips his head and kisses me, a slow, sensual, languid kiss as he positions himself between me, his thick tip sliding in but not enough. I arch my back and plant my heels on the bed, aiming him inside of me, but Nick backs away, breaking the kiss to look at me.

  “You’re sure,” he says, more than asks.

  “Positive,” I respond without hesitation.

  His eyes search my face again, dropping to my bare chest and to the spot where we’re united but not.

  “Please fuck me,” I whisper, arching myself against him again. His nostrils flair as his eyes dart to mine again, blazing, and he dips his face to mine, biting down on my lip. Hard. I close my eyes as reveling in the way he makes me feel.

  “Open your eyes and say that again, Brooklyn,” he says, his voice strained.

  I want to keep my eyes closed, afraid of looking at him, afraid of him seeing me in this moment, a moment I’ve never shared with anybody before him. I’ve never made eye contact during sex; it’s always been weird to me, which I know sounds weird
to most. They say the eyes are the doors to your soul and I’ve never wanted to let anybody in that deep when they’re inside me physically. Besides, I’m used to seeing the faraway look guys have when they’re high and inside me. I’m not used to seeing the awed look Nick is giving me when I look into his, as if I might disappear if he looks away.

  He waits, pushing in slightly, but not enough.

  “Take me,” I whimper, squirming for him.

  He closes his eyes as if to savor the moment and opens them back quickly, letting me know the yearning he has for me as he pushes himself slowly inside of me, letting out a guttural moan as he rocks himself deeper. My breath falls away from me, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of him, at the completeness I feel with him in there.

  “I want you to look at me,” he says quietly. “I want to remember the look on your face when I make you come again.” He rocks his hips into me. “I want you to remember the look on mine when I come inside of you for the first time.”

  Opening my eyes, I shudder at his words and can’t bring myself to look away again. This time, as I lay below him, with him thrusting into me at a leisurely pace, I let myself drown in those eyes of his.

  “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. His eyes bore into mine, letting me know he speaks the truth, daring me to question his statement, and I find that I can’t, because when Nick looks at me that’s exactly how I feel.

  My head is in the clouds as I lay in Nick’s arms as he traces over the bee tattoo on my hip. I don’t know what to do with my hands, I’ve never lain in somebody’s arms after sex, so I awkwardly place my arm over the side of his body, letting my hand hang over his back.

  “What are the notes for?” I ask quietly, bringing my fingers to trace over them.

  Nick shifts beneath me so that I can get a better look. “It’s a song I composed a while back,” he explains, tucking my hair behind my ear and touching my face lightly.

  The way he looks at me makes me feel whole, which scares and confuses me. I’ve never been one of those women that walks around looking for her other half, but the way he looks at me makes me wonder if that other half talk is real.

  “Sing it for me,” I say, smiling and scooting closer to him.

  When he chuckles, I scoot closer, closing my eyes so that I can remember that sound and replay it when I’m having a gloomy day. “I only composed it, babe, I don’t have words for it.”

  Opening my eyes, I give him a confused look. “What will you do with it?”

  He smiles. “I don’t know. Maybe sell it. We’ll see.”

  “Will you play it for me?” I ask, hopefully, not knowing if sex will make things weird for us now.

  He leans in and places a kiss on my forehead. “Of course I will, beautiful.”

  “What instruments do you play?” I ask.

  “Guitar, piano, violin, bass, drums,” he says, laughing when I gape at him.

  “That’s … wow …” I comment, at a loss for words. I knew he played some, from my experience, most producers do, but I didn’t consider that Nick would be a band geek. I laugh at the thought.

  “What?” he asks, looking amused at my amusement.

  “I was just thinking that I didn’t peg you for a band geek,” I joke.

  His blue eyes twinkle. “Band geek, huh?” he asks, faking offense. “I’ll show you band geek,” he says, running his fingertips down the side of my body, making me shiver, and stopping at my clit, which is sensitive and swollen, yet throbs in anticipation welcoming his hand. He dips his face and kisses me passionately as he continues to tease me. “Band geeks are probably good with their fingers,” he muses, dipping one inside of me, making me gasp. “And the ones that play wind instruments are probably good with their mouths,” he says as his tongue swirls around my pebbled nipple. Nick continues to show me everything band geeks are probably good at, and when he’s finished, he tells me he was never part of his school band, but wishes he would’ve been.

  At some point during the night, we get up to shower before getting back into bed and snuggling close together as we watch a rerun of Curb Your Enthusiasm and laugh our asses off at Larry David’s antics. I wake up to the sun kissing my face and groan, covering my head with the comforter. When I feel the bed shift beside me, I peel my eyes open, noticing Nick is awake and sitting on the bed watching me. I rub my eyes and tuck my hands under my pillow.

  “What time is it?” I ask groggily.

  “Ten,” he replies, lying beside me and tucking his face into the crook of my neck. I breathe him in, as he does me, and sigh at the clean smell that radiates off of him.

  “Ten in the morning on a weekend and you’re already showered?” I ask, my hands tracing the curves of his muscled arms and over his chest, down his torso. I smile when he sucks his stomach in.

  “Yes,” he says, gripping my fingers in his hand and bringing it to his mouth. “Get up, so I can feed you and take you somewhere.” He doesn’t give me a chance to argue, just drops my hand and places a hard kiss on my mouth before getting up and walking out of the room.

  Once I’m dressed and ready to go, I make my way over to the living room and find Nick fully dressed. He’s wearing earphones and bobbing his head as he takes sips from the mug in his hand. I walk up behind him and wrap my arms around his middle, placing my face on his hard back and closing my eyes, allowing myself to feel content.

  “Ready to go?” he asks, taking the earphones off and closing his laptop.

  “Yeah,” I sigh against him.

  He laughs softly and I squeeze him tighter, unwilling to let go.

  “Let’s feed you and then we’ll go,” Nick says, turning his body so that I’m standing between his legs, my arms still around his body. He kisses the top of my head and rests his chin on it. “Mine,” he whispers, making me smile.

  Nick sits with me, working, as I eat my breakfast and catch up on emails. I sent Allie a design a couple of days ago and still haven’t heard her thoughts on it. Once he’s done on his computer again, I show him my design and he asks me how I come up with them, which I explain to him. He tells me that he wants the first custom headphones Fab makes so that he can wear them proudly.

  “If you’re lucky, I’ll actually use them,” he says.

  I laugh. “What would you want them for if not to use?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Baby, if I wear those things around my neck people will be all, ‘damn, look at that guy with those awesome headphones, where did he get those?’ I’m taking one for the team here, modeling them for free,” he jokes, winking at me.

  I roll my eyes but laugh. “My own personal model, how fun,” I deadpan.

  He slaps my butt as we walk out the door and leans in to nip my ear. “Yours,” he whispers, causing a shiver to run through me.

  “Maybe I should tell Shea I’m leaving so he won’t freak out if he tries to find me later,” I say.

  He usually sleeps until way past noon, but I know he’s awake because he has a list of places to go for his promotional tour.

  Nick makes a face but doesn’t argue as he trails behind me. I notice that he has his duffel bag in his hand, which makes my stomach sink a little.

  “Yo, BK!” Shea shouts behind me. When I turn around, I see him standing shirtless in the threshold of his door with Darius standing beside it. Shaking my head, I walk over and step into his room, Nick following behind me.

  “Where you guys going?” Shea asks, his eyes flickering between the duffel in Nick’s hand and my face.

  I shrug. “Probably to eat and stuff.”

  “I have to go home and then I’m going to show Brooklyn some stuff,” Nick says flippantly.

  “Huh,” Shea comments, his eyes narrowing a bit. “You’ll be back for my show, right?” he asks, looking at me.

  “Of course! I wouldn’t miss a show at The Fillmore,” I say, smiling.

  Shea shakes his head and chuckles. “No, of course not. Your favorite place in the world,”
he jokes, wrapping me into a hug. He smells like one of those Axe things he uses, so I know he just showered.

  “What do you have to do now?” I ask, stepping away from him.

  He shrugs. “A lot of shit. Danielle is coming over here now with a huge list of things to go over. I gotta go to some stations then pass by the venue to sound check. I’ll probably come back here after that and check out the tour bus they’re bringing. Change, chill and shit and then head over for the show.”

  I exhale, knowing that’s the short version of his list.

  “Don’t forget to eat,” I say.

  Shea has had problems in the past because he skips meals when he gets caught up in things. He’s the only guy I’ve ever met that can go hours without eating. Hendrix is always scarfing something down and Ryan was the same. Shea, on the other hand, needs to practically be handfed, it seems.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Shea says, smiling at me. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll see you later.” He looks back at Nick, who’s standing behind me. “You gonna have those tracks ready for me tonight?”

  “They’ve been ready. I think we have to re-do one, though, your voice sounds off.”

  “Fuck. Which one?” Shea asks, exhaling and crumpling his messy hair.

  “Toxic Love,” Nick says.

  “Where are Fern and Leo?” I ask, suddenly remembering that I haven’t seen them anywhere. Shea doesn’t need a band for what he does, but Fern and Leo have always performed with him, and even though he doesn’t sing rock, it works. They even play while he raps. It gives his performances and his music a different feel to it, which I love.

  “They’re around. They’re all wifed up so I don’t wanna bug them too much,” Shea explains. I nod, imagining how uncomfortable it must feel to be the odd one out when it comes to relationships. When he and I were doing whatever we were doing, we acted like a couple when we were together. I think it was mainly because his friends were already in serious relationships. As soon as I left town and went back home was a different story—that’s when Shea would have his flings with anybody that walked and had a vagina. I can’t blame him, though. I know what it’s like to be young and rich. If you add famous to the mix you have a recipe for relationship disaster.