Memphis Black
Page 11
“Pedicures and bikini waxes sound like fun?” she shoots at him.
“Watching might be,” River chimes in.
“I’m driving. Let’s roll.”
We get in the Escalade, and Madison and I are in the back, Billy is sitting shotgun. Memphis is driving like a normal human being.
“Where do you wanna go?”
“Shopping, the pedicures, then—”
“Let’s get the shopping out of the way, skip the pedicures, and do some swimming?”
She grins at him. “Miami Design District, and I’ll think about it.”
“You do know I’m not loaded yet, Mads.” He smirks.
An hour later, Memphis comes around the corner, while I am looking at a Louis Vuitton bag.
“Are we having fun yet?” he asks.
“She is.” I nod to Madison. “She is looking at the same bag she spotted when we came in. She keeps walking away, but then ends up right there.” I look up at him and see he is smiling.
“What caught your eye?”
“What?”
“If you could have anything in here, what would it be?”
“Honestly, nothing,” I answer.
He grips the bottom of my T-shirt, his lips curling up on the side. “That’s right; you’re more retro.”
“Right,” I say as his knuckles run across my skin, causing my nipples to harden immediately and my face to feel hot, because retro, I am not.
He looks down. “I love the look on you, Tales. There’s only one thing that would look better.”
“What?” comes out in a whisper.
“Me.”
“Tales, come over here,” Madison calls out.
“The queen has spoken,” he mumbles, and I giggle. “You better go.”
I walk over to where she and Billy are laughing. I’m so glad she’s happy, but I wish I knew what it was that was bringing her down.
The entire time shopping, Memphis would show up at the most random moments, always when Madison was talking with Billy, and he always had something sexy and … naughty—very, very naughty—to say to me.
We didn’t get pedicures or waxed, thank the Lord. I can’t imagine having pink eyelids for the next couple days.
Back at the house, Madison holds up a beautiful white slip dress against her as she stands in front of the mirror. “We get to dress up.”
“What’s the place called?” I ask as I push Madison’s hanging clothes to the side and spot my black and white, long, floral, wrap skirt and a black tank top.
“LIV, I think. Memphis and Billy both said it was a cool, chic place.”
I look down at my attire, feeling a little uncomfortable.
“It’s perfect, Tales.” She smiles as she drops her bra and pulls the dress over her head.
After messing with my hair and realizing the Florida humidity is not my friend, I go with a loose twist.
“You done yet?” Mads asks, putting on one more swipe of mascara.
“I just need a couple minutes.”
“Need my help?”
“No,” comes out rather quickly. Madison likes makeup. I, however, do not.
She laughs.
“Go spend some time with your brother. I’m sure I can manage.”
She smacks my butt. “You have the best ass in the world. So jelly.”
I smile. “You have the best hair on the planet and a perfect body, so don’t hate.”
She turns to walk out of the bathroom. “Mascara would make those green eyes pop, just sayin’.”
I look in the mirror, seeing the girl next door. I will once again pale in comparison to Madison’s stunning beauty. I decide to swipe one coat of mascara on my lashes because she’s right; a little pop wouldn’t hurt when I am almost certain I am going to be hanging on to every naughty word Memphis Black rock star says in a club full of beautiful, well-dressed women.
When I walk out, Memphis stops mid-sentence and smirks. “Damn, Tales.”
“Leave her alone.” Madison swats his arm jokingly.
“Leave her alone? I’m going to have to watch out for you both tonight. No motherfucker within a five foot radius or he’s going down.”
His eyes are locked on me the entire time he says it. My gaze is taking in the black T-shirt that fits his muscular build like a glove. He is wearing dark denim jeans and those black boots. He looks hot. So, so hot.
“Let’s roll. The car is waiting,” Finn says, walking into sight.
His hair is long on top and cut close on the sides. Tonight, he has it pulled back and has trimmed his beard. He is wearing an unbuttoned, black button-down with a white tank, black jeans, and black boots.
River walks in, smirking. “Be right back.” Then he walks toward his room.
“Chillz.” Finn shakes his head.
“Hey, at least he remembered to put it away and didn’t bring it with him this time,” Billy says.
Billy is dressed in a white linen shirt, khaki shorts, and loafers. No black boots, I think to myself. He sticks out, but not like a sore thumb. He is beautiful yet much less the stereotypical rock star.
River walks out in a white tee, black pants, and yes, black boots.
After dinner, we stand in line to get into the club, and Memphis is behind me. I feel his breath on my bare neck when he whispers, “Neck porn. Fuck, that’s hot.”
I glance back at him, eye level to his chest. “I like that shirt.”
“Looks better on the bedroom floor.”
I can’t help laughing.
He leans against the wall. “Do you know how badly I want those long, sexy legs wrapped around my waist, Tales?”
I roll my eyes.
He laughs and pulls a coin out of his pocket. “Heads, I get whatever I want from you tonight. Tails, I make you cry out my name.”
I look around to see if anyone heard him. All three of the guys are surrounding Madison and listening to a story about Memphis when he was younger.
“Wing men.” He winks.
“OMG, I think that’s Zach Efron,” I hear a whisper behind us.
“Here we go,” he huffs.
“Is he here?” I whisper.
“Could be, but I am pretty sure they’re talking about—”
One of them taps him on the shoulder. “Are you—?”
“Yes,” he answers before she even asks a question.
“We loved you in High School Musical. Aren’t you dating Vanessa H—?” Again, he cuts her off.
“Broke up with her because she wouldn’t swallow.”
They all gasp while I laugh.
“It’s important,” he says, defending himself or, rather, defending the real Zac Efron.
“Some girls just don’t like to do that,” the dark-haired one says.
“Understandable. I just won’t waste my time with them. I need my girl to swallow. I mean, honestly, I can’t imagine going through life—”
“You ready?” I interrupt him, nodding toward the door.
“She must swallow, then.”
I whip my head around and look at the girl who just said that.
“She does, and she likes anal. Begs for it even.”
“You are a pig.” I try to be angry, but my nerves get the best of me, and I laugh.
“Can we get a picture?” one calls out from behind us.
Memphis doesn’t respond, only looks up at the bouncer. “They’re asking for pictures.”
“Thank you, sir.” He nods.
We walk in, and I look behind us, expecting them to follow, but they don’t. They are denied access.
We walk up to the bar where Memphis orders a round of slippery nipples.
“Are they good?” I ask.
“I’ll tell you later. Have I mentioned how hot you look tonight?”
“Come on, Tales; let’s dance,” Madison shouts over the noise.
It is then that I look around and see just how beautiful the club is. Not only is the club architecturally appealing and extravagantly designed, bu
t it’s a mix between an exclusive lounge and an ultra-modern nightclub, and the people are just as beautiful.
I look back as Madison drags me to the dance floor and expect to see Memphis looking at everyone, watching all the women dressed beautifully in couture, practically see-through clothing and expensive jewelry, but he’s not. He’s staring at me.
“This is DJ Drunken Monkey in the house! Let me hear you say ‘Whoa-oh.’ ” He waits for the crowd to respond and they do. “Say ‘Whoa-oh,’ ” he says again, and it continues until “Pretty Girls” by Iggy and Britney starts to play.
Mads and I start to dance and sing along. Mads sings Iggy’s part, and I get Britney’s.
The floor is packed as we dance, bodies rubbing up from behind us as the music takes control. It’s the only time I feel free, no inhibitions, so I go with it.
“One Hot Mess” by Malea starts, and now it’s not just bodies pressed tightly, there are hands on my hips and a little grinding. Mads has a guy behind her, too.
I look back, expecting to see Memphis, but I don’t. It’s a Ricky Martin look alike with amazing moves. I look at Mads and put my palms up and shrug,
With my hands in the air and Ricky’s on my waist, I tip my head up and see the very angry eyes of Memphis Black from the second level, getting a bird’s eye view of the dance floor.
“Mads!” I yell over the noise and point up. “Your brother is angry.”
She looks up. “Where?”
I laugh. “He was right up there.”
“Fuck him, Tales. It’s me and you, dancing.” She hands me a blue drink she took off the cocktail waitress’ tray. “Bottoms up.”
We slam down the drinks. They don’t taste like alcohol; they taste like Kool-Aid.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Memphis standing behind me.
He looks at the Ricky Martin look alike. “That’s mine.” He slams back his drink and shoves the glass into the guy’s hand. “Take that up for me.”
Whoa, what was that? I think to myself.
“You looking for a fight? ’Cause you’ve got one,” Ricky snaps.
Finn steps between them. “Walk, man, while you can.”
Memphis looks at me. “If we’re gonna be playing around for the next couple of days, it’s one on one, you feel me?”
“I was just dancing.” I blush and look to see if Mads is watching this. She’s not; she’s dancing with River and Billy.
“That wasn’t dancing, Tallia. That was fucking foreplay,” he says, stepping into my space as “Teacher” by Nick Jonas starts. He then takes my hands and puts them on his hips. “Your little hands go here, not on his, feel me?”
I nod as he places his hands over mine and drags them up under his shirt as his hips start swaying to the music.
As Nick’s voice booms “Oh my, oh my, oh my God” over the speakers, Memphis’s hips circle while he moves down slowly until he is hip level with my hands on his shoulders. I close my eyes and start swaying as his hands run up the back of my thighs and stop right below my butt. Then he lifts the hem of my tank top with his nose and runs it across my stomach before I feel his tongue against my skin.
My knees weaken, and I clutch his incredibly strong shoulders while he continues to lick, kiss, and graze his teeth across my now exposed flesh. He senses it and places a kiss on my hip as he slowly kisses up my side and then turns me so my back is against his body. He takes my hands in his and runs them up my body as he sings, “So let me teach ya,” in my ear, sending chills all over my body.
My hands now rub up my front and over my chest, and he groans in my ear.
“So let me teach ya,” he sings again, my hands now behind his neck.
“Hold tight; don’t let go,” he commands against my neck. “Rock with me.”
He sways, and I follow his lead as his hands grip my hips and pull me toward his hard body. And his body is hard everywhere.
“Feel what you do to me?” I say in her ear. I am in a club with hundreds of people around and hard as steel. “Fuck, Tales, you can move.”
While her body presses more tightly to mine, I see her chest rising quickly up and down.
“So sexy, Tallia. Fucking heartbreaker.” I know she is. I feel it deep.
“Me?” She looks up at me like I’m nuts, flashing me those eyes. They look like that place with the witch, the dog, the lion, and the scarecrow. Aw, fuck, what’s it called? The John Lennon song’s one. “Good-bye, Yellow Brick Road”?
Move back to those fucking eyes. Fuck!
“You make me insane. Those emerald eyes, that tight body, those lips, and don’t even get me started on POW!” I say, turning her back to me.
“Pow?”
“Your ass, Tales, it’s like POW!”
She blushes, giggles, and shakes her head. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy in lust over you,” I tell her, and I’m not kidding. “Tonight’s the night, Tales. I’m going to show you what it’s like to be rocked.”
Once she swallows hard and gives a slight nod, I look up and see the boys surrounding Madison. She is laughing, and so are they. When Finn looks at me, I mouth, “Cover me,” and he nods, stepping in front of Madison’s view.
I run my hand up Tally’s back and she squirms. I love it. I grip the back of her neck gently enough but also letting her know who is in control. Then I use my other hand to lift her chin, and her eyes roll slightly and close.
I lick my lips at the same time she licks hers before pressing my lips and swiping my tongue against hers. She opens to me, and I slowly stroke my tongue along hers, unable to hold back the urgent growl rising in my throat.
My hand leaves her face, grabbing her ass and pulling her body to mine. She takes in a quick breath as I roll my hips against hers, showing her exactly what I was talking about, showing her what she does to me. When I lick inside of her mouth again, I am that little blonde chick, and this porridge is just fucking right: clean, sweet, fucking mine.
I open my eyes to find she has hers open. Emerald City, that’s what they are.
“Fuck, Tales. You taste like fucking more. I want more.” My lips crash against hers, and she meets me with just as much urgency, her tongue coming out to play. How she strokes my tongue is hot and sweet.
I bring my hands to the side of her face, tilting her head so I can get in farther. My tongue needs control—I need control—so I take it.
Breathless, I eventually pull back while she leans into me, wanting more.
“Damn, Tallia.”
She opens up Emerald City, her chest rising and falling, nipples hard as hell. She is trying hard to control her breathing, looking confused.
“Talk to me, Tales,” I say, knowing she can’t.
“I-I—”
I take her hand and pull her behind me, walking by Madison and the boys.
“Tales needs a break. We’ll be upstairs.”
“You okay?” Madison yells to her over the crowd.
“Stubbed my toe,” Tales responds.
I have to bite my cheek so I don’t laugh.
We get upstairs to a private box overlooking the dance floor, and I shut and lock the door behind me.
“Breaking all the rules, are you?” I smile a little as I turn to look at her.
“I lied. I know it’s wrong, but—”
“And you suck at it,” I say, taking her hand and leading her to the U-shaped couch.
“Do you think she knows?” she asks as she sits down and clasps her hands together on her lap.
“No,” I answer, grabbing two bottles of water. I open one and hand it to her. “You drunk?”
“No,” she says, looking at me like I’m crazy.
“I don’t want any excuses, Tales. When we do this, it’s us—you and me, sober.”
“Do this?” Her voice squeaks.
I look at her and try to push away the annoyance the question gives me.
“This happens tonight, you feel me?”
“This?”
 
; “You and me, naked and sweaty. I have three more nights after tonight, and I am telling you right now, I need to get this out of my system. I want you so fucking badly, and I know damn well you want me, too.”
“Everyone wants you, Memphis,” she whispers, looking down at her tangled hands.
I sit down next to her. “I’m sure anyone who got close enough to smell that … that fucking smell you emit feels the same.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She scowls slightly.
“Pheromones? Your perfume? You? Fuck, whatever it is, it’s insanely sexy.” I want out of this conversation and into her. It’s confusing, that smell.
She opens her mouth to respond, but I don’t give her a chance.
I grab the back of her head and pull her toward me. My lips smash against hers, and she whimpers. My tongue pushes into her mouth as I pull her on top of me.
“Memphis,” she moans as I kiss down that pornographic neck, licking, sucking, tasting, and trying my best not to eat it or mark its perfection. As my lips come to the base, I have no desire to stop there, so I don’t.
I pull the back of her tank top up and unclip her bra with one hand. Her back arches, and she whimpers again.
Her shirt is off, and her bra is fucking next. I would tear it, but I need to slow down, or it’s going to be over before it begins.
“Tales, no one has ever made me feel so fucking insane before. I am losing my mind,” I say between kissing and nipping down her shoulder, pushing her bra strap down as I go.
Her body trembles as I pull her leg up so she is straddling me while taking the strap in my teeth and lifting her arm as I pull it free.
“Memphis,” she gasps as I kiss the soft silhouette of her perfect, little globes, heading toward her peaked, little ruby reds. “Stop.”
Fuck, I scream in my head and look up.
She looks stunned, covering her mouth.
I pull it away. “Talk to me, Tales. Tell me what you need me to say, to do in order to get deeper inside of you.”
“This is wrong,” she says quietly, looking down and covering her breasts.
“What feels wrong about it?”
“You, me. It’s not like—”
“Like what?” I ask as my hands rest on her thighs.
“We’ll see each other again.”