POP ROCK

by Charity Ferrell

  The floor flies open, and Easton is standing there with a bright smile and gleaming eyes. My chest warms at the love and adoration he has for his older brother. I’m glad Knox has someone like him in his life because from what I’ve heard about his family is that most of them look at him as opportunities and dollar signs.

  I grab my bag, and Knox trails behind me as we walk through the door and into the house. We land straight in the kitchen, and my stomach grumbles at the delicious scent of garlic and pizza.

  “Long time, no see,” a woman says, walking into the kitchen with a glass of wine in her hand. Her burgundy red hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail, and a pair of black-framed glasses takes up the majority of her face. She looks over at me with a genuine smile and holds out her free hand. “Hi, I’m Gretchen. I’ll admit, I was a little terrified when Easton told me Knox was bringing a girl with him tonight, but he gave you a good endorsement, which is surprising, considering he can be a judgmental asshole at times.”

  “Hey!” Easton yells. “I only want the best for my big brother.”

  Gretchen laughs. “That’s what I was trying to say.” She sets her glass down. “Come on, Libby. I’ll show you our guest room.” She goes to turn around but stops. “Are you both staying in there? Or is someone crashing on the couch?” She holds up her hand. “Not trying to make any assumptions here.”

  “I’ll take the couch,” Knox says, stopping me before I have the chance to offer.

  “No,” I rush out. “I can. I’m the one who’s barging in last minute, and it’s your brother’s house.”

  Knox’s eyes dart my way. “I’d be an asshole if I made you sleep on the couch.”

  “He does have a point,” Gretchen inputs. She leans forward to slap Knox on the back. “And who would’ve thought this guy could be a gentleman?”

  “It’s when you find the right woman,” Easton says. “I was an animal until Gretchen tamed me.”

  Gretchen rolls her eyes but cracks a smile at the same time. “He’s still an animal. Now let’s go get rid of those bags.”

  I look around as I trail behind her to the guest room. The house is nice, but not what I was expecting. Knox wasn’t lying when he said Easton didn’t accept much except help with his tuition. The house is filled with feminine touches – flowers in colorful vases, furry pillows, and candles everywhere. I have a feeling Gretchen makes all of the design decisions here.

  “Bathroom,” she says, pointing to the door as we pass it. “And here’s the guest room.” She flips on the light. It has a nice size bed, a TV, and a dresser. “There’s towels and extra blankets in the closet.”

  “Great, thanks so much for having me,” I say.

  “No problem at all. They usually outnumber me when we choose movies or which game to play, so I’m happy I won’t be stuck watching some ridiculous man flick.”

  A knock on the door catches our attention. “I’m going to jump in the shower real quick,” Knox tells us, a stack of clothes in one hand.

  “You know where everything is,” Gretchen says.

  Knox salutes her and disappears into the bathroom.

  “Gretchen made her scrumptious homemade pizza,” Easton says when we get back in the kitchen. “Is veggies and pepperoni okay with you?”

  “I thought I smelled something delicious,” I say. “And yes, that’s perfectly fine.”

  “Wine?” Gretchen asks. I nod and thank her after she hands me a glass.

  “So what’s going on with you and my brother?” Easton questions.

  I choke on my sip of wine.

  Damn, he sure cuts to the chase.

  “Seriously?” Gretchen asks. “She just walked through the damn door.”

  “I can’t ask her in front of Knox, so it was now or never.”

  “I work for your brother, and we’ve developed a friendship while on tour.” My answer sounds like I’m making a public statement.

  “I’m a smart man. I know attraction when I see it, and I can promise you this, I’ve never seen my brother look at a woman like he does you.”

  “What about Stella?”

  “At the beginning, yes, but it was puppy love between them. He was young and dumb, but they were so familiar with each other it was hard to move on. They started to grow apart and realized their love was only temporary. Knox is cautious about who he opens up to now, but I can see he’s starting to with you. That means something.”

  I fake a playful laugh. “I think you’re seeing things.”

  “I’m not, and he might kill me for telling you this, but not only do I see it, he also confirmed it.”

  “What?” I stutter out.

  “He likes you. He told me himself.”

  The wine glass in my hand nearly drops from my fingers.

  33

  Knox

  If Easton thinks he’s sly by talking to Libby when I leave the room, he’s damn dumb. The walls are thin, and the bathroom isn’t far from the kitchen. I can hear their every word.

  I wrap my hand around the doorknob, debating with myself whether I should go out there or not. I hesitate and then drop it, deciding to eavesdrop instead. If I join them, it’ll stop the conversation, and I won’t get to hear Libby’s answer. I lean my shoulder against the door and place my ear against it.

  “Yes, I know your brother is attracted to me, but that’s all,” Libby says.

  “He’s attracted to you more than just physically,” Easton counters. “He doesn’t only like you for your looks. He likes everything about you. He trusts you, and that’s very rare for him. Shit, sometimes I’m not sure if he even trusts me.”

  Yes! Go little brother.

  He’s going to law school, so there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s trying to work Libby like he would a jury.

  “Babe, she’s only been here for ten minutes,” Gretchen cuts in. “Let’s not interrogate her before feeding her.” She laughs. “I apologize for my overbearing boyfriend.”

  “It’s fine,” Libby replies. “I don’t blame him for being curious.”

  “Just tell me one thing,” Easton says. “And then I’ll leave the conversation alone. Are the feelings mutual?”

  Everything goes silent for a few seconds, but it feels like minutes.

  “They are,” Libby finally says.

  I back away from the door and punch my fist in the air like an idiot. If I can’t bring her to say those words, at least my little bro can.

  This night just got a helluva lot better.

  I feel a lightness in my chest as I put my ear back to the door, not wanting to miss a word of their conversation.

  “But we can’t do anything about it,” Libby adds. “It’ll be too complicated.”

  “Relationships are always going to be complicated,” Gretchen says. “No matter who you date. You only trade one problem out for another. We won’t keep bothering you about it, but think about how you feel when you’re with Knox and how it’d feel to lose that.” She laughs, and I hear the cork of a bottle of wine popping. “Now how about a refill?”

  Shit, a point for Gretchen too. I knew I liked her.

  “That sounds perfect,” Libby says.

  Their conversation goes in a different direction with Libby talking about being on tour, and I finally undress and get in the shower.

  Tonight is going to be a good night.

  “Did you guys miss me?” I ask, strolling into the kitchen, freshly showered and in a delightful mood.

  Libby is situated in a stool at the island, and Gretchen and Easton are standing on the other side of it. Everyone is sporting a smile as they sip on their wine.

  “No, we’re only happy you took your monthly shower,” Easton answers. “You were getting pretty ripe there, brother.”

  I chuckle, flipping him off, and pull out the stool next to Libby to sit down. “They’re not interrogating you too much, are they?” I ask her.

  Her fingers curl around her wine glass and she takes a big swig before answering. A light blush creeps a
cross her cheeks. “No … not at all,” she replies into the glass. “We haven’t even brought you up.” I’ll let her get away with that response for now, but I’ll definitely be bringing up her admission when we’re alone later.

  “You’re not always the center of attention,” Gretchen says, most likely covering up for Libby. She opens up a cabinet, pulls out a glass, and pours red wine into it.

  “We’re not going for the hard stuff yet?” I ask, as she hands it to me.

  “Absolutely not. Last time you two idiots got wasted and decided to see who could eat the most slices of pizza.” She stabs her manicured finger into her chest. “I’m the one who not only had to deal with your dumbasses but also got stuck cleaning up your mess. We’re saving the good stuff for the games later.”

  “Games?” Libby asks. “As in drinking games?”

  “Yes,” I answer. “What were you thinking? We were going to spend the night playing an intense game of Chutes and Ladders?”

  I grunt when her foot rams into my ankle. “I’d actually prefer Candy Land, thank you very much.”

  “Eh, I don’t think there’s a way to incorporate whiskey with Candy Land. It just doesn’t seem right,” Easton says, and then shuffles across the kitchen to open the oven. “And since there is four of us, I think Would You Rather? is the perfect choice.”

  Libby groans. “Nope, too personal.”

  I dip my hand down and run it along her thigh. “There’s nothing more I’d rather do tonight than get personal with you.”

  She timidly moves my hand away while keeping her eyes forward, like she’s afraid they’ll catch onto what I’m doing.

  Easton pulls out the pizza. “Time to eat!”

  I slide off the stool and hold my hand out to Libby. She reluctantly grabs it and allows me to pull her up as Easton starts cutting the pizza.

  “I’ve got the plates,” Gretchen tells us. “You guys go ahead to the dining room.”

  “Why are you acting so jumpy?” I ask Libby before anyone joins us.

  “I’m not jumpy,” she rushes out before lowering her voice. “Did you tell your brother we had sex?”

  “No. I don’t fuck and tell.”

  “He seems to think we did.”

  “Incorrect. He thinks I have a thing for you, which I do. He has no idea you’ve also let me taste you.”

  “We aren’t talking about this right now,” she hisses at the same time the others make it into the room.

  We scarf down our food while Easton and Gretchen catch me up on everything happening in Houston. Easton tells me our mom hasn’t called him in over a month, which doesn’t surprise me, since last I heard she rented some yacht for her and her piece of crap boyfriend to spend the summer on. My mom likes to be a cougar and spoil her men … on my dime.

  Libby helps Gretchen clear the table and load the dishwasher while Easton and I start dragging out the bottles of alcohol.

  “Rule number one,” Gretchen says. “No one is getting wasted. When it looks like you’ve had enough, you’re cut off.”

  “Fine with me,” I say, turning the cap off a bottle of tequila. “Grams will kill me if I show up hung over tomorrow.”

  “She will kill any of us that show up hung over tomorrow,” Gretchen inputs. She hands everyone a shot glass, a pad of paper, and a pen. “Does everyone know the rules?”

  Easton and I nod. Libby shakes her head.

  “You’ve never played this game before?” I ask her.

  “Sure, I’ve played with my friends, but we’ve never done it as a drinking game. What are the rules?”

  “Someone asks a would you rather question, we write down our answers, and whoever is in the minority has to drink.”

  She shrugs. “Sounds simple enough.”

  “Great,” Easton says. “We’ll let the guest of honor go first.” He looks over at me with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Libby, what’ll it be?”

  “Asshole,” I mutter.

  Libby taps her nails against the table, scrunching up her nose. “Would you rather have no fingers or no eyes?”

  We all write down our answers.

  Everyone chooses no fingers.

  “No one drinks,” I declare. We need to make this more intimate and creative. I want to break Libby out of her shell. “I’ll go next. Top or bottom during sex?”

  We write down our answers and hold them up.

  Libby chooses bottom.

  Myself, along with the others, choose top.

  We all look at her as she picks up her shot glass. “What?” she asks, with a shrug. “I think it’s hot to have a guy on top of me, feeling the weight of his body, and showing me how much I turn him on.” She downs her glass, and I fucking love her answer.

  We keep going, and I focus all of my attention on Libby’s answers.

  She’d prefer sex on the beach instead of grass. I don’t agree with that one. I’m not trying to eat pussy and choke on sand at the same time. That shit gets everywhere.

  She’d rather pay for sex than get paid for sex. I agree.

  We both prefer long-term relationships.

  Hours fly by as we run through question after question, taking shots periodically, but surprisingly, we choose the same answers most of the time. Maybe this will show her we are more compatible than she thinks.

  “It’s our bedtime,” Easton declares with a yawn, sluggishly getting up from his chair.

  Gretchen does the same and looks over at us. “Goodnight. You guys make yourselves at home. Knox, you know where everything is.”

  “Sure do,” I answer. “Thanks for letting us crash here.”

  I sprawl out in my chair when I hear their bedroom door shut. “You do know the game isn’t over,” I say, fixing my eyes on Libby.

  She tilts her head to the side. “Oh really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “Then it’s your turn.”

  “Would you rather kiss your boss or have him kiss you?”

  Her chest moves in as she inhales a long breath. “I’d rather him kiss me.” There’s no doubt, no confliction, in her voice, only hunger and anticipation.

  I’m craving to feel her again, to be back inside of her, and to taste her sweet pussy on my tongue.

  I rise up from my chair, offering my hand out, and she allows me to pull her up. She stares up at me, her baby blues fringed with long lashes, and I take her chin in my hand, smoothing my fingers along her soft cheeks.

  “I love that answer,” I mutter.

  She immediately opens her mouth when I slide my lips along hers. Chills run through me as she brushes her tongue against mine, and I savor the delicious combination of her mixed with strong tequila. I lock my arms around her waist to push her against the wall.

  “Would you rather share your room with me tonight or force a desperate man to sleep on the couch?” I rasp out.

  She grins wildly. “Sharing is caring, right?”

  I grunt when she slides her hands down my back to my ass and drags me into her. I’m close to exploding when she starts to grind her jean-covered pussy against my erection.

  Fuck. I need her again. My cock is begging for it.

  I haven’t even got her naked yet and I’m hard as a rock.

  “Would you rather me fuck you against this wall or the bed?” is my next question.

  “Bed,” she pants out. “The last thing I need is someone walking out and finding us fucking against their dining room wall.”

  “It’d be a beautiful sight.”

  She yelps when I throw her over my shoulder and walk us through the dimly lit hallway to the guest room. I gently set her down on the bed and shut the door. We immediately start stripping off each other’s clothes.

  I drink up the sight of her waiting for me on the bed. We’re both butt-ass naked. She’s staring at my cock, hungrily licking her lips, and the only idea running through my mind is how I’m going to taste her … and then take her.

  “What if they hear us?” she asks.

  �
�They won’t.”

  “They’re in the very next room,” she hisses, jutting her finger towards the wall with each word.

  “I’ll cover your mouth when you get off or you can bite into my shoulder. You can use me anyway you want.”

  “You promise?”

  I nod. “Now for your next question. Would you rather me climb between your legs to eat your pussy or you sit on my face?”

  “Sit on your face,” she whispers. “I’ve never done that before.”

  “I’d be honored to be your first.”

  She brings herself up, I’m pushed down on my back, and her pussy is right above me, begging to be pleasured. I oblige, pulling her closer to my mouth, and plunge my tongue into her hot pussy.

  I’m picking up on every moan from her as she squirms above me and flip her over when her legs start to wobble. I add my fingers, pushing them in and out of her heat with the same intensity as my tongue to finish her off. As promised, I reach up and cover her mouth when her back arches and she reaches her peak.

  I draw back to look at her. She’s panting underneath me with hooded eyes. “You want me on top?” I ask, remembering her answer from earlier. “You want to feel dominated and see how much you turn me on?”

  “Yes,” she begs. “Show me. Prove it to me.”

  My heart nearly stops when I grab my cock, stroke it a few times, and hold it against her tight entrance before carefully pushing myself through her entrance.

  I can’t pull my gaze away from the gorgeous sight. There is nothing more captivating than her mouth opening into a gasp when I fill her up.

  Nothing.

  What she’s giving me is more satisfying than winning any award, making any amount of money, or having a million groupies on my dick.

  I plant myself deep inside of her, slowly pull out, and then slam back in. I move in and out – adding more force with each thrust – and she tilts her hips up to meet me. I’m relishing in the sensation of our connection, and I never want to come down from this high.

  I know she’s close when her arms dart out, and she digs her heels and nails into the sheets. I bend down, giving her my mouth to deflate her screams, but she shoves her face into my shoulder, biting into the skin, and shudders out her release.