by Weston, Dani
“All right, princess. But if you leave one of your shoes behind, I’ll take that as a challenge.” Kevin let a slow-as-honey smile cross his face.
Bea was close enough to catch everything Kevin said. She fanned her face exaggeratedly. “Is it hot in here or--.”
I shoved her on the shoulder before she could finish. “Let’s go. Thanks for letting me rant, Kevin.”
Bea’s eyebrows knitted as she got a half-blocked-by-my-shoulder look at Kevin, but I pulled her along. The weight of the night had hit me the moment I set my glass down. Performing took a lot of energy. So did ranting to a stranger.
Even though it was after midnight, L.A.’s early September night hadn’t yet lost its balminess. A thin layer of sweat formed on the back of my neck as we loaded our gear into Kaitlin’s car. I gathered my thick hair in my fist and lifted it off my neck. Sometimes, I really wanted to cut my hair, but my full, tight black curls were my signature and I loved them, even in L.A.’s oppressive heat.
I was just opening the front passenger door when a man called out to us. “Hey!”
My hands curled into fists. I saw Kaitlin arrange her keys between her fingers, like a weapon. Bea looked up from the trunk, her expression guarded. Such was the life of three young women being approached by a massively built middle aged man at night in L.A.
The man paused a few feet away from us and took few breaths. “I hate this club,” he said. “You have to walk around the entire block just to get to the back.”
Bea shot me a questioning look. I shrugged.
“You need something?” Kaitlin said, her hands resting on the roof of her car, showing off her keys-weapon.
“I’m Duncan Prospect,” the man said. He paused for effect, as though that name should mean something. It didn’t to me, but Bea’s expression changed completely.
“You manage World Wonder,” she said. She slammed the trunk closed and relaxed her shoulders.
I sized Duncan up. His ample girth was covered by loose jeans, a polo shirt and a shabby windbreaker. He was balding at his hairline, but his eyes were a strange mixture of shrewd and welcoming, like he wanted to become your friend just so he could sell you something. Duncan reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a business card.
“Six number one singles in the past two years,” he said. Bea took the card he held out to her. While she studied it, I fidgeted. It could be an exciting thing to be approached by a big time band manager, if his biggest client wasn’t one of the worst bands around. And, if we hadn’t just decided to move on from Ladies In Waiting. But we had. And the longer we stood around, letting Duncan regale us with tales from the pop world, the harder it would be to stay awake in classes. I had to speed this along.
“What can we do for you?” I said, impatiently. Bea shot me an exasperated look.
Duncan raised his eyebrows. “It’s less what you can do for me and more what you can do for a client of mine. You heard of Jimmy Keats?” He waited until all three of us had nodded at him. “He was at this thing last spring. A charity fashion show. He heard this band playing and got the idea into his head that he wanted to develop and produce the next big girl band. Ladies In Waiting was their name, he told me. Find them. I’ve been looking for months for you. I found out the fashion show was a sorority thing, talked to a couple girls about your band but, you know, those girls are pretty secretive about giving out personal information.”
“Survival strategies,” I said. Sororities might have the reputation for housing airheaded party animals, but my Delta Gamma sisters were some of the sharpest people I’d ever met. They knew how to take care of themselves, and each other.
Duncan waved my words off. “Right. Anyway, here you are and there’s my card. I promised Jimmy I would find you so my job’s done. Whether you decide to call me is up to you. But now, I’ve got a date with Johnny Walker and a DVR.” Duncan waved again, this time a goodbye, and headed back the way he came.
Bea, Kaitlin and I exchanged glances silently. Finally, I sighed and opened the car door, sliding into the passenger seat. The air in the car was thick for five minutes, all of us just sitting there, Kaitlin staring out the window and not starting the car. Bea finally spoke up.
“It wouldn’t hurt to call. Just to see what he says.”
“He said enough back there,” I said.
Kaitlin shrugged. “It’s just a phone call.”
I gaped at her. It was no surprise that Bea would be all in on this idea, but Kaitlin seemed as ready to end our Ladies In Waiting days as I was. And yet, a tiny spark was warming my belly. Was I ready to end our band, really?
“It’s Jimmy Keats,” I said, sourly.
“Dreamy Jimmy Keats,” Bea said.
Kaitlin made a “hm” sound. “Yeah, that’s too bad…” Her trailing off left the door open, though, and I had to close it.
“We’re not a girl band.”
“We’re girls,” Bea argued. “And we’re a band.”
I pointed my chin at her over my shoulder. “We’re not a girl band. You know exactly what that means. And even if we were, we don’t have a proper lead singer anymore.”
“Your voice is good,” Kaitlin said.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Not good enough.” Then, under my breath so only she could hear, I said, “traitor.”
Kaitlin laughed and adjusted her rearview mirror so she could look at Bea. “Hey, it’s a big compliment to get a visit from Duncan Prospect, but come on, Bea. Our classes are brutal this year. And Courtney’s right, we’re not what he’s looking for. Let’s just be flattered and move on.”
Bea huffed and slumped. “Fine. Let’s just toss aside this opportunity because you’re right, we shouldn’t have any dreams or hopes that we could make it big and make millions and hang out with gorgeous international pop stars and instead just finish school and get a stupid nine to five job and buy a house in the suburbs and have kids and get old and die.”
Bea stopped to catch her breath. Laughter bubbled up in my chest. I tried to hold it back until I noticed Kaitlin struggling with the same thing, so I let it out. The three of us dissolved into giggles.
Bea held up the business card and dramatically tore it in half. “Oh, well. Real life calls.” Then she rolled down her window and let the pieces flutter away in the wind.
I dug into my bag to check my phone. Riffled around. My hand never hit that hard rectangle. “Shit. I think I left my phone inside. Hang on.”
I pushed out of the car and dashed into the club. The band after us was pretty good. I swayed my hips in time to their music as I picked my way from the back room to the bar, checking the round pub table first. It was clear. I leaned against the dark wood of the bar countertop and caught the bartender’s eye.
“Did anyone turn in a phone?” I called to her as she topped off a drink with soda.
Her gaze transferred to a spot across from me and she nodded once. I looked in the same direction. Kevin lounged against the far wall with a lowball, watching me with a definite glint in his eye.
I took my time walking to him, letting my gaze linger up and down his body, from his long legs to his narrow waist to those arms with the hard muscles he wasn’t even flexing just then. I let my eyes work their way over his defined jawline, his full lips, his meltingly brown eyes. And I smiled.
“A little birdie told me you have something for me,” I purred as I came within earshot.
“A good man would hand it right over to you, wouldn’t he?” He held my phone out like a peace offering, flat on his palm. I raised my eyebrows. Flutters began in my belly, like dozen of drunken dragonflies were bumping into walls.
“The best might even offer it on bended knee.”
“There’s promise in the idea of getting on my knees.”
I bit my lip. “Sounds to me like you’re not good all over. Are you, maybe, a little bad?”
That smile again. So slow. Delicious.
“Want to test me?”
“I like taking tests,�
� I said. “I especially like acing them.”
“Do you study hard for them?”
“Yes. I always want to score well. I have big plans.”
“A woman with a plan is a powerful thing.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. He licked his lips. “A woman who scores…even more so.”
“That’s the idea.” I took another step toward him, until I could see the cinnamon details in his eyes, even in the low club lights. My skin began to sing at our nearness.
“And a woman who knows what she wants is…”
“Intimidating?” I finished for him. Because that was the typical feedback I got from guys: You work too hard, Courtney, lighten up. No man likes a woman who makes more than he does, you know. You’re too intense…I can’t handle it.
His soft breath landed on my ear before his words did. It sent chills up my back. I pulled one leg up, slightly, reveling in the feeling. My emotions were still racing from the show, and they’d hit a new peak when Duncan Prospect came calling. I needed to unleash and I needed to do it now.
“I was going to say sexy.”
I paused, my body startled by his words. Thought about my highly scheduled life. About the charts and boxes that had made me an academic success, so far. None of those things seemed particularly sexy, even to me. But I liked that he thought differently. It took a strong man to approach a strong woman.
It was as though Kevin understood. His voice lowered. He reached a finger out, slowly, asking permission. When I didn’t move away, he touched my wrist. Moved up to my elbow, watching the trajectory of his finger the whole time. My muscles tightened, each one telling me they, too, wanted the touch of that finger. “Do you need to study tonight?”
The quarter had just started and, at only a week in, I didn’t have a ton of homework, yet. I knew that would change soon, so why not enjoy the tiny bit of wiggle room I had now? “I do have classes in the morning…and it’s already late…”
“If you came with me, I would leave right now. And promise to get you home before sunrise turns you back into a--.”
“Troll?”
“High powered studying machine.”
My hips were on fire from that bold pronouncement that, yes, he wanted me. A headier prospect than any morning business class could possibly offer me. It’s not like I was going to fall behind already. I’d still get to my class, even if I was too tired to take anything in.
I took his drink out of his hand and slowly set it on the counter, focusing on the play of glass against wood. Kevin’s other hand covered my, and together we sucked the last vestiges of coolness from the tumbler with our heat. The front of his body brushed against my back, and I craved more—more pressure, more energy, more power. I spun and pulled him backwards toward the door. He came willingly, slipping one arm around my waist. I liked it there. I liked the way our thighs brushed as we walked, front to back. I like the way he had to match his rhythm to mine. I liked how he brought his face in close to my cheek, but didn’t kiss it. Not yet. But oh yes, that would come soon enough.
I took my phone and texted Bea that I would catch up with her tomorrow.
2.
Outside, the moon was full in the sky, bathing us in the sexy, soft glow of night. I didn’t ask Kevin which way to walk because I didn’t want to give up the lead, and he sensed that, so he only pointed to the retro Mustang parked on the street. I raised my eyebrows appreciatively, even though he couldn’t see. The classic car was restored to mint condition.
“How hands-on are you?” I asked as he unlocked the passenger door. His keys rattled a little and I pursed my lips, hiding a triumphant smile at being able to knock his confidence off-balance. “With the car,” I amended. “Did you restore it yourself?”
He opened the door for me. “Me and my dad.” He shut the door and crouched down so his face was at the same level as mine. I heard, for the first time, a bit of an accent in his voice. It was southern. Similar to mine. “It was exactly as you’re picturing it. Little boy and his hero, fixing up the rusted old car in the garage.”
There was so much about what he said—and how he said it—that made my heartbeat race. A southern gentleman, valuing his daddy-son time.
“Adorable.”
Kevin slid into the driver’s seat and fired up the Mustang. It rumbled beneath me and I let myself sink into the delicious feeling, the power under my legs and ass, delighted that foreplay was slow and long: our flirtatious conversation, the vibrations of his car, the knowing look he was shooting me now.
“How far is your place?” I asked.
“Twenty minutes from here.”
Too long. I wanted him now. I wanted that fast, flying feeling that only came from whirlwind nights like this. That only belonged to two people who sparked instantly and had no strings attached.
“I have a better idea.” I opened the door again and got out. Kevin killed the engine, then followed me across the street. His hand closed over mine and I tugged on it, breaking into a trot.
“Hurry up, slowpoke,” I called over my shoulder. Filth bordered UCLA, so it was only moments until my heels threatened to sink into the grass as we crossed UCLA’s campus, then clacked as we hit the bricks in front of Knudsen Hall. I threw open the door to the building and pulled Kevin into the elevator. I slammed my palm against the “R” button.
When the doors were almost closed, we faced each other, on the same wavelength, with the same idea. The air sizzled, our breathing rushed from our run. My arms went around his neck, his went around my waist. We waited. Held that position. Soaked in the desire and threw it back out in waves. His fingertips played along my spine. Mine walked the border of his hair across the back of his neck.
The elevator filled with our hot, anticipating breath, and as the floors beeped by, we moved closer. Our lips met in the middle. The rumble from his car was still in my body, trembling up and down my legs. His kiss was confident, but not forceful. He gave and I took, but I gave back, pressing my lips hard against his, then pulling back to let him take over. His mouth opened. It was exactly what I wanted. I met his energy, flicking my tongue over his, nibbling once on his bottom lip before covering his mouth completely, again.
Our hips pressed together and I felt the growing hardness of him. I met it with my own desire, growing wet and hungry for his touch. My hands tangled in his hair and he slammed me against the wall as the elevator rose. I moaned. Lifted my chin so he could rake his teeth down my neck.
The elevator shuddered to a stop and the doors slid open. Kevin and I separated slightly, catching our breath, catching our gazes, for a moment before the doors began closing again. I put one arm out to stop the doors and walked out onto the roof. We were alone up here, with nothing but the sound of the wind and traffic through the trees.
In the distance, downtown L.A. sparkled. I couldn’t see the ocean beyond, but I could imagine it. The end of the world.
“Great view,” Kevin said.
I nodded my agreement, but when I faced him again I realized he wasn’t looking at the city. He was looking at me. And he kept looking, his gaze moving slowly up and down my body, pausing on my breasts, my lips. I wrapped my fingers around his wrists and directed them to the hem of my shirt. A breeze ruffled my hair. His eyes were so dark in the night. His palms opened over my midriff, searching, testing, considering. The first touch of skin.
“This isn’t what I had in mind, but I like it,” he said.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I’ll show you some other time.”
“Is that a promise, or a hope?”
His voice lowered to barely a growl. “Both.”
His hands closed on my hips, squeezing and pulling me against him as his lips descended on mine. I liked his height: just tall enough that I had to tip my chin a bit to reach his kiss, but not too much. Our hips were in line, and as his hands cupped my ass, we rubbed them together, creating heat from friction outside and flames of desire inside. His trousers bulged and my knees weakened, kno
wing how much he wanted me. I filled with power, with confidence. I rolled my pelvis around teasingly and felt his mouth curve into a smile under mine. His fingers drifted up and down over my lower back, toying with the hem of my shirt, but I knew he was just playing. We both knew I’d already given him permission.
I softened my back and shoulders into his hands and twirled so that I was backed against the short roof wall.
“You won’t let me fall, right?” I said, running the tip of my finger down his shirt buttons. He grasped my wrists and moved my arms over my head, slipping my shirt off and dropping it to the ground next to us. His eyes roved my naked skin. He didn’t look away as he unhooked my bra and dropped that, too. I undid his buttons and our hot skin pressed together. He bent me over the wall, slightly. The breeze danced in my hair as his lips dragged down my throat to take each breast in his mouth, in turn. His tongue circled each nipple, then flicked. My body thrummed like a vibrating bass line. I freed his trouser button and lowered the zipper, slipping my hand inside layers of pants and boxers to grip his cock.
Kevin slid a small object into my other hand. I had one of my own, but I like that he was prepared and insistent on using the condom. No asshole pressure to go bareback. I ripped the plastic and rolled the condom over him slowly, using one hand to hold and slowly pump his girth at the base. His passion accelerated. His lips captured mine hungrily, his tongue forcing into my mouth, battling like there was something more than each other’s bodies to win.
Kevin hiked my skirt around my waist and lifted me so I could wrap my legs around him. My wetness welcome him inside me. He fucked me hard, my spine slamming against the wall. It was perfect, just the speed and passion I needed. The best way to release all my churning emotions. One of his arms held me in place while the other tucked in between us, his fingers searching for, and finding, my ripe, flushed clit. Kevin massaged it until I thought I would burst, slow and hard and first, then quicker and quicker until his fingers sprinted me across the finish line. We called out to the stars.