by T Gephart
I didn’t bother trying to talk her out of it. Partly because as I said, I wasn’t honorable, and partly because talking about my backstory made me edgy. And sex is one hell of an equalizer.
We settled on a compromise. Taking the fucking back up to my hotel room, where I pushed her up against a wall and fucked her so hard she had small bruises on her ass where my hands had been.
That night’s song was “Bad Romance.” By Lady GaGa. Never had a song been more fucking appropriate.
****
Philadelphia, PA
The traveling schedule was brutal. Usually it was only a couple of days in one place and then packing up and rolling into the next town. Nights on stage, mornings sleeping late. And as for free time, there wasn’t a lot, but what we had I usually spent with Angie.
We weren’t always naked either, spending a large chunk of the daylight hours actually just hanging out. We were even able to talk without her hurling insults at me. Wonders would never cease. There was definitely more to her that met the eye and damn if I didn’t want to know more about her.
“So, why not go to college? It can’t be that you didn’t have the grades?” I dipped a fry in ketchup before shoving it in my mouth.
“Money.” She picked at her salad, looking at my plate with envy. She’d convinced herself her ass was getting bigger which was utter shit. And I should know considering I stared at every inch of it, every single night.
“When my mom died, things got tight at home. Small business. Medical bills. Funeral expenses.” She shook her head as I inched my plate closer, offering her a reprieve from her miserable dinner. “Besides, my dad needed me.”
“He’s lucky to have you.” I took a bite of my burger, the size of my ass not being a concern, and enjoyed the mouthful. Then chased it down with another bite.
She caved, snagging a fry off my plate and popping it into her mouth, the smile that spread across her lips validation enough it was better than the rabbit food she’d been chowing down on.
“Can I ask you a question?” She stole another fry before taking a sip of her soda, and I had to stop from staring at her mouth so I could concentrate on what she was saying.
“What is that?” I pushed my plate toward her, more than happy to give her the other half of my dinner. Hers was just too sad to even be called a meal.
She didn’t take much convincing, picking up half the burger that was on the plate and taking a small bite. “So you’ve fed me the line about the no girlfriends, but I know it hasn’t always been like that, right?”
“Angie.”
“C’mon Jase, we’re just talking, right? Just talk to me.”
“No, it wasn’t always like that.”
“There was one girl in particular. In your past, who messed you up.”
If she had meant to ask a question, she didn’t. Instead she nailed exactly why I was happy to keep doing my solo routine.
“You want to have sex?” I pushed away from the table, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “Let’s go do that.”
Pulling at her hand I yanked her out of her chair, my mission to get her naked sooner than later. She squeaked as her body hit mine, fries still in her hand as I went to scoop her up. To bed. That’s where I wanted her and the conversation.
“No. I want to talk.” She wiggled out of my hold, escaping just as I was about to throw her over my shoulder.
“Yes, fine. There was one girl in particular in my past.” My hand raked through my hair in frustration.
“She cheated on you, right? That’s why you are so against it. Because she hurt you and you don’t want to do that to someone else.”
“Fuck. Yes, she cheated on me. I thought I was in love with her and she slept with my best friend. It’s over. I’m not going to be part of that again, in any capacity.” My voice bounced off the walls and I was fucking thankful we were in my hotel room and not having this conversation somewhere else.
“Don’t yell.” She stood her ground. “Look at me.” She pulled my face into her hands. “I’m sorry she was a bitch and did that, but don’t yell at me.”
Now it was my turn to give the goldfish impression.
The apology I was working on got stuck between I’m-sorry-I’m-an-asshole and I’m-sorry-where-would-you-like-my-balls?
“What was her name?” She ignored me and took another bite of our shared burger.
“Why, you going to look her up? Swap recipes?” I laughed, but at myself not at the questions themselves. Because I’d been delusional in thinking I had any control over anything when it came to Angie. Including the topic of conversation.
“No. I just need to rename my voodoo doll.” She gave me a smile that just about knocked me on my ass. “The old name isn’t working for me anymore seeing as it’s the same name I’m screaming most nights. Besides, I think I’ve punished you enough.”
She pulled me from rage to amazement with a flash of a grin. It was more than just seduction that those dark-brown eyes were packing.
“Em.”
It burnt my lips saying it, but I volunteered it anyway. The additional information about how she stole my car, my money and most of all, my fucking sanity was conveniently left out.
“Em.” Angie’s lips moved as they pushed out the sound. The chill jacked-up my spine hearing her say that name, knowing I’d do whatever I had to so she wouldn’t ever say it again.
“Don’t say her name, Angie.” It was halfway between a plea and a warning. “I don’t want something so ugly ever coming out of your mouth.”
“You’ve heard the way I talk and you think the ugliest thing I could say is her name?” Angie’s eyes widened in disbelief as the blast of leave-it-alone I was throwing hopefully hit its mark.
“Trust me on this, even when you are swearing like a sailor it’s still more beautiful than those two fucking letters.” And I meant every word.
“Even when I call you an asshole?” her voice moving from serious to playful. That was the place I wanted her to be, and where I wanted to keep her.
“Especially when you call me an asshole.”
My smile was back, as was my absolute awe of the woman in front of me. The memories of the evil got shoved back where they belonged as I focused on the only thing that mattered right now—her.
“Thanks.” She moved closer, her head rested on my shoulder, my hands finding their mark on her body. “For telling me. About her.”
The song that night had to be a coincidence because there is no way she could have predicted the conversation. “You know I’m no good.” By Amy Winehouse.
And later, when we had our own private encore, she had screamed my name so loud I wasn’t sure we were going to have the cops knocking at my hotel door.
****
I started waking up early, my internal clock jerking me awake without the need for an alarm. My prize for my early bird ritual was watching her sleep beside me. It was addictive; me living for those quiet moments where I could just look at her, and be awed by her perfection. It never got old.
The other thing I hadn’t been able to shake was my inability to sleep until I knew she was safely inside dream world. The need for my own Z’s taking a back seat until I’d felt her breathing even out and her body relax beside mine.
“Ugh.”
The moan coming from Angie’s lips wasn’t the good kind, not like the ones she’d been giving me earlier. Her head was tilted away from me, the room still pitch black thanks to the early hour of the morning.
“Angie?” I lifted my head off the pillow as my hand reached for the bedside lamp.
“No,” she all but screamed, the light flicking on for only a second before I killed it again. “Don’t turn on the light.” Her body scrunched into a ball, rolling to the far side of the bed.
“What the fuck?” I moved closer to her, my hands finding her in the dark. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Head. Bad,” she stuttered. “Headache. It hurts.” Her body rocked in the dark as I massaged
her back. More moans following after.
“Do I need to call someone?” I fumbled in the dark for my phone while trying to keep my hands on her. Calling 9-1-1 for a headache was overkill, right? Still, this didn’t seem like the run of the mill kind that was going to be killed by a couple of Tylenols.
“No, it’s okay. I get them from time to time. Stress. Fatigue. My dad gets them too. It’s nothing major; trust me, I even had my head scanned a couple of years back … you know … just to make sure,” she mumbled while she kept her back to me, her body still tightly coiled as the pain griped her.
There was no need to elaborate on what the scan might have been for, and I was surprised by how relieved I felt that there wasn’t more to it. Just the thought of something serious being wrong making me swallow, hard.
Uh-hum. Yeah.
So maybe instead of sitting there like an emotional dumbass with no clue, I should actually do something to help her.
“Okay, give me a second.” I moved off the bed and went to the bathroom, doing my walk in the dark so not to make the shit any worse for her than it already was. My hands managed to locate the ibuprofen while I rummaged through my toiletry bag before I made my way to the mini bar, grabbing a couple cans of Coke.
“Here.” I crouched down beside her side of the bed, the hiss of the can making her wince as I opened it. “Take some pills and drink the Coke.”
“What? That’s crazy. It will make it worse,” she argued, her hands holding her head like it was going to explode.
“Trust me. It works. I can Google the science behind it later, but trust me, it works.” My hand moved to her back and gently lifted her. “Take them.” My fingers brought the pills to her mouth, her lips reluctantly opening for me.
“That’s it, good girl.” I snagged the opened Coke from the nightstand and lifted it to her mouth, easing the can slightly so she could take a drink. “Drink.” I repeated the action, giving her a little.
When she had a few more sips that I was satisfied with, I lowered her back on the bed. Leaving the open can sitting on the nightstand beside her.
“I’ll be right back.” I gave her a kiss on the forehead and grabbed the other can of Coke and went back into the bathroom. This time I shut the door so I could hit the lights, my vision needed for the next part of playing doctor Jase.
My eyes blinked as they tried to adjust to the bright overhead light, the attack brutal, making me glad I’d shut the door. I placed the can on the sink before sinking to my knees in front of the tub, reaching out and turning on the faucet. I adjusted the water so it was running a little on the hot side; the water level in the tub rose as the bathroom started to steam.
While I waited I grabbed a couple of towels and stuck them on the edge, wanting to make it as comfortable as possible.
Didn’t need a full tub, so was able to cut the water pretty soon after, hitting the light before opening the door. My eyes once again had a minute or two of black and white dots before being operational. The door back to the bedroom was pulled open as my vision started to return.
“Ugh,” Angie moaned again, her body rocking slowly in the bed.
“Angie.” My arms moved under her, lifting her body off the mattress. “Come with me, sweetheart.”
She didn’t fight me. There was no backchat or asking what-are-we-doing, with her willingly flinging her arms around my neck as I carried her into the bathroom. I kept it dark even though it meant making the journey harder. If anyone was stubbing their toe, it was only going to be me so my care factor was low.
Her breath heaved against my neck, her whimpering not as loud as I moved her feet into the tub. Her ass gently lowered onto the towel-covered tub edge as I eased her further down.
“Ah, it’s hot.” She pulled her feet out of the water, the splashes hitting both of us.
“It feels hotter than it is. Just give it a minute.” I felt her body ease as she lowered her feet back in. The telltale splash told me her toes had hit the water. “That’s it. Doing awesome.” My hand rubbed small circles on her back as I sunk down to my knees beside her.
My fingers fumbled around in the dark and snared the other can of Coke. I cradled it against the base of her neck, the cold metal hitting her skin making her jump.
“Easy,” I laughed. “Just relax. I’ve got you.” My hand kept contact with her skin while I balanced the can against her neck. The contrast in temperature between her feet and the base of her head supposed to help.
We didn’t talk, just sat there in the dark. My knees were not doing so hot on the tile but I didn’t dare move. My comfort not a priority right now as I made sure she had what she needed.
It took a while but finally her body eased a little, her shoulders relaxing with her breathing a little less rapid. Either the ibuprofen with the Coke chaser had kicked in or the temperature remedy was responsible, but I was glad she was no longer sounding like she was wounded.
“Better?” I lifted the Coke can that wasn’t so cold anymore away from her neck and put back on the sink.
“Yes, it’s still there but not as bad. How did you know all that?” Her head stayed tilted forward as my fingers moved to massaging her neck.
“Just stuff I’ve picked up here and there, you’d be surprised what other skills I have.” My hands worked the base of her skull.
“Oh yeah, was the massage the next step? Like after the other two?”
“Nope, step three my fingers do a different kind of rubbing. Orgasm, if the blood is rushing to other parts of your body, it can’t be giving you headache.”
She laughed, her body gently shaking as the noise escaped her lips.
“Whatever. Who wants sex when they have a headache? I’m calling bullshit.”
“You know, I’m going to prove you wrong.” I pushed up off my knees, my body coming to full height. “Let’s go.” I didn’t give her much of a chance to protest as I lifted her off the edge of the tub, her feet wet and dripping on the floor as we made our back to the bed.
Lucky for me—and her as the case may be—she was already naked. It’s not that I hadn’t noticed earlier, it had just been other shit that had my attention i.e. doing whatever I had to do to make her feel better. But now, as I laid her down on the mattress, her legs spread out in front of me, it was hard not to notice.
“Jason—”
“Relax, we’re not having sex.”
My hands travelled up her thighs, my fingers going to where they needed to be as I lowered myself down on the bed in between her legs. And what a beautiful sight it was. So much so, that I gave up on letting my hands have all the fun. My mouth lowered onto her pussy, my tongue giving her clit all the attention while my finger gently slid inside of her. Which she seemed to enjoy. My tongue and my hands working together like a team as her breathing, which had been all settled a few minutes ago, kicking back up in tempo. This time for the right reasons.
“Jason.”
Unlike the first time she had said my name, there wasn’t any hesitation. Her hands finding themselves in my hair as I stayed where I needed to be—in between her legs, my mouth alternating between licking and sucking. Of course now my face was getting most of the action, so I upped the ante with my hand, adding another finger to the one I already had buried inside of her. Both of them got busy finding a good rhythm.
It didn’t take long. A lot less time than I would have liked to be honest. My hands and tongue happy to continue on this prescribed course of therapy a little longer, but it seems Angie’s body had other plans.
“Yes.” Her body bowed off the bed, moving closer to my mouth as I picked up the pace and made sure every single inch of her pussy was getting that lovin’ feeling.
“Yes.” She grabbed my hair, her legs moving restlessly while I worked to bring her undone. One last flick of my tongue was all it took.
Watching her come never got old. Her eyes were tightly shut as her body stilled, even though everything I was doing didn’t stop. The crest coming like a wave before she
finally exploded on my mouth and hand. Both happy to have been of service as they teased every last inch of pleasure out of her.
“I liked your third solution the best.” Her breath rushed out between her lips.
“Yeah, I bet you did.” I lifted my mouth away from her but not before one last pass with my tongue, her body shaking in appreciation.
“Now, go to sleep.” I pulled up the covers over her beautiful skin.
“But what about you?”
“Don’t worry about me. This was about you.”
I didn’t bother to mention the hard-on that had developed the minute I’d lowered her onto the bed and spread her legs. Best that piece of information stayed on the backburner, my dick cursing me out for the hell I’d condemned it to.
“No, I can …” Her hands reached for me on the mattress.
“You can do whatever you want to me in the morning if you still feel inclined. How’s that for a deal?”
“Okay. Her voice and her hands settled, my body not sharing the same sentiment. So juiced up, just the brush of the covers probably enough to set me off.
“Awesome.” I watched her body relax on the bed, her eyes closing. “We’ll play in the morning.”
It was going to be a hell of a long night.
Fatigue. Road weary was an actual thing, my eyes drooping slowly as the plane came into land. It was midmorning, though unlike the cheery airline staff, I hadn’t the five liters of coffee that would get me to their shared state of happy. It wasn’t just lack of sleep, it had been physical fatigue too with my body more sore from the after show performances than my bouncing on stage.
“Hey, guys, over here.”
Security pushed and pulled us in different directions, moving us through the arrivals section at Chicago’s O’Hare. My feet trudged slow down the walkway as I hit a wall of bodies, a few die-hard Power Station fans slowing up the process by trying to get the band’s attention. They went first—Power Station. Their band with their significant others more alert than us in what I can only assume was an acquired tolerance.
“Hey are you, Angie Morelli?” A short, dark-haired girl who was wearing more eye makeup than clothes stopped in front of us.