by T Gephart
My eyes dipped down to the front of my shirt to check if I was wearing some kind of nametag. Nope, nothing there. Unless my name had been changed over night to The Ramones.
“Ummm, yeah,” I answered, not wanting to be rude.
“Oh. My. God. I love you. Your band is amazing.” She grabbed a hold of my arm and started to shake uncontrollably. “I love you so much.”
“Err, thanks?”
Doing something—anything—would have been the smart thing to do. But I was kind of frozen. The surprise of someone I didn’t know knowing me, had my feet glued to the floor. No one had ever stopped me before, not outside my neighborhood. And even then, it was usually someone I had already met.
The girl attached to my arm had a friend, who grabbed my other arm and between the two of them roughly played a tug of war with my body. Not hard, but enough that I was starting to feel a little freaked out. More hands touched me and I had to remember to breathe. The overwhelming urge to run burned through my body yet my feet wouldn’t respond.
I watched in slow motion as the rest of my group moved further away, everyone too consumed with conversations to notice I was stuck. The faces I recognized blurring in the distance as my pulse started to race.
“You need to keep moving.” Jason’s hand circled my waist, having appeared miraculously by my side and pulled me forward. The girls attached to my arms, still holding on. Neither of them doing much more than babbling—I heard I love you a few times too.
“Thanks, see you at the show.” Jason peeled the girls from my body in what seemed to be very little effort. “One foot in front of the other,” he whispered in my ear, his hands on my hips encouraging me to perform the simply function, which apparently was too hard for me to do on my own.
“Is that what it’s like for you?” His body slipped into step beside mine, his hands directing me forward to where everyone was filing into cars.
“Yeah, most of the time they just want to say hello. Are you okay?” He stopped, his face on me despite others waiting for him.
“I’m fine, you should go.”
The impatient security guard held the door open for the one Power Station member not currently sitting in one of their assigned idling SUV’s, his jaw tightening more by each second. Me, not necessarily being at the top of his list of concerns given a crowd was starting to gather.
“I’m riding with, Angie.” Jase waved off Mr. tight-jaw and pulled me into one of the not so flashy vans that had been designated for us. The topic of conversation not open for discussion as he pulled closed the door.
“I’m fine.” I pulled across my seat belt, my body settling into the cloth seat. My racing pulse disagreed with my assessment of me being fine.
“Yeah, I know you are.” Jase fastened his seatbelt, my other band members giving me the why-is-Jason-in-our-car look. “Your windows aren’t tinted.” He knocked on the glass. “I’ll be able to see more of the city going in.”
That excuse was bullshit if ever I heard one, but I didn’t argue because having him in the car with me actually made me feel better. And right now I wasn’t going to stop something that made me feel good.
The car ride was filled with the usual chatter—talking and laughing, and my pulse finally returning to normal. Jase reached over, his hand brushing over mine. His eyes stayed on me despite him saying he wanted to see the view, the landscape whizzing past.
The hotel was the same as they all were, big and impersonal. Jase’s hands didn’t move from my body as we traveled through the lobby and then up to his room. The discussion on where were going, not had, at least not verbally.
It was huge.
The room, the bed and the window. All of it, big and fancy, which by now shouldn’t be surprising, but it was.
Jason and the view distracted me from my mild freak out, and with his hands shoved into his pockets, he joined me at the glass.
What had been happening with us, with him—there was no denying things had changed. He was being kind, sensitive, caring … he was acting like—yeah, that word neither of us would say.
Boyfriend.
Even my subconscious whispered it.
So instead of bringing it up, I focused on the landscape in front of me. My eyes unable to be peeled away from the view.
“Wow, the city looks great from here.” I leaned my body against the floor-to-ceiling window, the sunlight hitting the tops of each of the buildings, making the skyline sparkle.
“I don’t really look anymore.” He moved beside me, mimicking me by pressing his nose to the glass. “You’re right, the view is impressive. Not sure why I don’t take the time anymore to appreciate it when we travel. I guess it’s all become second hand now, more of the same.”
“You’re so fucking jaded.” I laughed stepping away from the window. “If I start talking like that, I’m going to kick my own ass.”
“Is that what you want to do? Kick my ass?” He grinned; the prospect of me doing just that seeming to excite him.
“Ah, if only there was time.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, knowing that while today my schedule was wide open, the keyboard player who I was canoodling with had places to be. In bed, with me, not at the top of the list.
“Yeah, well I have a surprise for you.”
“Is it a vibrator to keep me busy while you’re gone? If not, that’s cool. I bet the shower head in this place is five-star.”
Staying with Jason hadn’t been discussed. But seeing as my bags usually found their way into his room, and I spent most nights in his bed it was a fairly safe bet this is going to be my room too. Besides, there was that view, and having him screw me up against the window was quickly added to my list of requests.
“It’s not a vibrator.” He pulled me from the window and I hit the wall of flesh that was his body. Well hello, pectoral muscles. It’s nice to see you again.
“I’ll take care of anything that needs to be taken care of when I get back.” His hand floated down to my ass which he then squeezed. Fair, seeing as my hands were doing the same to him. “But until then, you’ve got company. I figured it might be a good distraction. At least until I get back to give you a better one.”
The company, I found out about five minutes later, was in the form of Ash and Megs. Apparently he’d texted them on the car ride over assuming I’d need the comfort. Not that he said as much, selling it like it was them who wanted to spend time with me. But I guessed he was worried about leaving me alone after the airport. His busy day meant it couldn’t be him.
And as the bubbly duo bounced into the room, the sexy considerate guy who promised to wow me with plentiful orgasms left.
As much as I hate to admit it, I was really going to miss those two. They were so friendly and while our time had been limited over the past two weeks, their company on the tour had been one of the highlights. Other than playing on proper stages, and the mind-blowing sex.
Lexi and Hannah were great. Both had earned their commendations of greatness and my hero worship. Juggling jobs, husbands and kids all the while looking flawless. Unlike me, who looked like hot mess on a nine a.m. flight with no excuse except an active libido and willing partner. But they just didn’t have the same dynamic the other two did.
Ash and Megs were different. Smashing through uninvited and welcoming me into their group, my usual feelings of inadequacy not getting a second thought. And they probably should have because these girls were perfect, and imperfect in the most amazing way. They might have been the first real girlfriends I’d had. Ones I didn’t worry about stabbing me in the back, or judging me. And in a complete flip in my usual character, I trusted them. Blindly, even though I had no reason to.
It was while Megs was giving me a manicure—trust me, arguing was futile with that girl, red flag and bulls being what they were and all—that the I casually steered the conversation in the direction I wanted.
“So … did you ever meet any of Jason’s girlfriends?” My contribution to our girlie chat was thrown into
the ring.
Casually.
Like a grenade.
I was going to need more practice.
“No, not really. He doesn’t really date,” Ash volunteered, my lack of finesse either overlooked or politely ignored. I really liked these girls.
“Other than you, we mean,” Megs added, twisting the lid off the fire engine red nail polish that apparently I needed to be wearing.
“It’s okay.” I nodded, my fingers spread out, ready for the assault. “I know we’re not really dating.”
Not in the real sense of the word. At least not on his side of the equation, my side had been pretty blurry lately. Hence the sudden curiosity into Jason’s past, and the jealousy that seemed to accompany it.
“Of course you are.” Megs threw me a look of utter disbelief. “He’s crazy about you.” Her voice rose with enthusiasm.
“No, we’re both crazy but not about each other, which is great because it works out.” My mouth did that thing where it spat out words without properly processing them. It was right about one thing, both of us were certifiably crazy. Me, tipping the scales a little higher in my effort to be an overachiever.
“Well you’re wrong.” Megs held down my hands, red brush in between her fingers ready to do her worst. “Whatever you want to call it. It’s most definitely dating.”
“I’ll let it slide ’cause you’re knocked up.” And because very few people lost an argument when it came to Megs. “But I don’t want you to be disappointed by the lack of save the date cards we’ll be mailing. Jase made it pretty clear he doesn’t do commitment.”
For the first time I heard the disappointment in my own voice. Well look at that. I think I may have developed feelings.
Well. Fuck.
“Plleeeeeaaassseeee,” Megs almost screamed. “That man is head over heels for you. I don’t know why he’s saying that bullshit, but I can tell you that he’s never looked at a girl the way he’s looked at you. And there have been plenty around.”
“Did you guys ever meet Em?”
There I went, another grenade. Because the first one hadn’t exploded in my face, I needed to tempt fate and throw another. My need to know obviously worth the risk of a possible messy fall out.
Of course neither of them had. The bitch-face troll—my new name for her—was well before their time with the guys.
“I think she was a big bitch anyway.” Megs continued with my nails, the shiny red beacons shimmering like a stop sign, or the light out front of a whorehouse. “Broke his heart. Why anyone would want to do that to Jase? I just don’t understand. He’s a sweetheart.”
“He totally is,” Ash agreed. “Such a nice guy.”
“And he’s really good looking.” Megs nodded, the shopping list of how wonderful Jason Irwin was growing.
“Super good looking.” Ash nodded, her smile not even close to being discreet.
“And have you seen him with his shirt off?” Megs took to fanning herself dramatically. “Wow. Muscles for days.”
“You can stop now.”
The virtues coming thick and fast weren’t actually needed. I was already falling in love with him. Yeah. There was that word. Not one I would be repeating, even to myself.
“Why, we’re just talking about Jase.” Ash shrugged naïvely.
“Yes, telling me how awesome he is.”
“Megs, I don’t think either of us used the word awesome, did we?” Ash looked to Megs, blowing across her freshly painted nails.
“No, Ash.” Megs smiled with satisfaction. “I don’t recall saying awesome at all.”
“You are both so transparent. We are not a couple.” I waved my hands in the air to prove my point.
“But you like him right, you called him awesome.” Ash didn’t give me a chance to retract.
“Yes, I like him. He is awesome, but—” I tried in vain to stop all talk of Jason and I all kissing-up-a-tree.
“No, you can’t put a but on there. You like him. He’s awesome. That’s all.” Megs gave me no chance to take back my Freudian slip.
“Just don’t get your hopes up. I’m not expecting anything.” And by anything I meant reciprocation. Because what I was definitely expecting was disappointment; that was a bona fide certainty.
So in one afternoon I had discovered that I was capable of two things I didn’t think were possible. Number one, develop two beautiful friendships with these amazing women. And number two, fall in love with the same guy twice.
Both had been surprising, with only the second scaring the ever living hell out of me.
That night I sang “Supermassive Black Hole” by Muse. No explanation was needed.
“Good to see you diversifying your insults, Angie. I especially liked tonight’s efforts.” I held her hands above her head, with my lips at her throat, driving her crazy. And crazy was what she was making me so it was only fair to share.
“That’s me, so versatile.” She laughed as she tried to kiss me back. I didn’t let her, she could do what she wanted on stage but in bed, she was mine.
Tonight’s effort had been “So What” by P!nk with her enthusiasm higher than usual while singing the word tool in the lyrics. She sang that line directly at me with a smirk on her face.
“Call me whatever you want on stage, sweetheart, but you have no problem remembering my name when I make you come.” My mouth moved lower, this time her nipples getting my attention. Her body bowed off the bed in appreciation. And didn’t that make me just want to do it more.
“Fame has made you so conceited, Jason. I think my next song should be You’re so Vain.” She closed her eyes as I continued the assault on her body with my mouth. The words she was trying to say barely coming out of her mouth convincingly.
Her list of songs had been extensive. As were her list of insults. And to the outside spectator were nothing more than a random collection of eclectic tunes. Different bands, different genres—all of them given her personal brand of flair as she showcased them on stage.
“Vanity isn’t my problem.” My mouth kissed the base of her stomach, my hands parting her thighs.
“What’s your problem?” She all but begged as my mouth moved further south. Her hand that pulled at my hair to direct where she wanted me, not needed.
“My addiction to making you come apart.” My tongue lapped at her thigh, getting close with every pass. “Watching you come, knowing it’s because of me.”
“That’s … that’s … ” she stuttered, unable to finish her sentence as my lips gently closed around her clit, sucking it.
“That’s exactly what you are going to get, Angie. When you’re with me. I’m going to make you come each and every time.” I slid in a finger to go along with the tongue attention I was giving her.
“Jason,” she moaned as her fingers gripped at my hair. Her need to hold me in place unnecessary because there wasn’t anything that would have stopped me.
“Yes.” My mouth vibrated against her hot, wet pussy. My lips and tongue taking turns in making her feel good. Jury was still out as to which one was giving her the most pleasure.
“Don’t stop.” Her eyes flew open as she nailed me with a look, hovering somewhere between euphoria and desperation.
“Wasn’t planning on it.” I added an extra finger, pumping in and out of her as my mouth went back to being busy.
“Yes, Yes.” Her body writhed underneath me as I felt her explode on my mouth, my fingers getting a treat as her pussy pulsed around them.
Unfortunately my dick wasn’t so pleased, thinking my hand didn’t deserve the praise Angie was giving it and demanding a chance to even the score.
“I’m going to need you to do that again.” I shifted from my position between her thighs and moved higher up the bed.
The rip of the condom packet prompted her to open her eyes, her change in view coming just in time to see me smooth the latex down my shaft.
“Every time I see it, it gets no less impressive.” She licked her lips, her eyes fixated on wha
t I had in my hand.
“My cock impresses you? Or what I do with it?” I asked, regaining my lost position, her legs widening to accommodate me.
“Both.” She sighed as I rubbed the head of dick at her opening, the bastard desperate to get inside.
“I told you.” I pushed inside of her quickly, the sharp breath she drew hinting she hadn’t been expecting it. “I’m not here to impress you, sweetheart. I’m here to make you come.”
“Jase.” She moved her lips to mine, her mouth begging for everything I had to give her. “I need you.”
“And I need you.” The words were automatic, my brain obviously suffering a loss of oxygen on account my dick was taking it all. Bad idea, and yet in that moment, I wasn’t about to take it back.
I did need her. In every sense of the word, and the thought of losing her wreaked havoc on my nervous system. The fear of not being with her every day was only superseded by the fear of hurting her.
“Please,” she begged, thankfully not hearing what I’d said. Or showing me how smart she was by ignoring it. “Please, don’t stop.” Her fingers dug so deep into my shoulders I could feel the skin bruise underneath. Did I care I’d be rocking bruises for the next few days? Not a fucking chance.
The kick of pain only served to juice me up higher as I slid in and out of her. The slow and controlled pace I’d been keeping not anywhere close to what I was desperate to give her.
“Fuck, Angie.” I grabbed her legs as she pushed up against me, her hips thrusting against mine in a rebellious attempt to control the tempo. She should have known better. She could have her turn later, but right now, it was me who was doing the fucking.
“I want—”
I slapped her ass, not giving her a chance to finish as every inch I had filled her; her pussy fisting me as she came on my hard-on. Her thighs pressed against me as her body shook.
“That’s it.” I kept moving, teasing every last shudder of pleasure from her. Mine. Every single tremble, every whimper, every ounce of pleasure had been all mine.
“That’s it,” I repeated, trying to slow down as a battle of wills between my mind and my balls went all out warfare in my body. “I know what you need, Angie. And I’ll always give it you.” Each drag of my hips made it harder and harder to maintain control.