by Rye Hart
The truck ride was silent after that. Her hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly, and her back was completely straight. If she wasn’t going to entertain me with some sort of conversation, then I was going to study her. I hooked onto the profile of her face and grazed my eyes down her body.
She was a pain in my ass, but she was nice on the eyes.
We pulled into the venue, and I saw Hank flagging us down. Delia pulled into a parking space, not speaking to me as she slid out of her side of the truck. I grabbed my guitar and started for the coordinator, who was usually a goofy-looking asshole with a clipboard.
Hank and Delia were talking to one another before they joined the conversation.
“You’ll have time at the top of the hour to set up, then your set starts at eight fifteen, Mr. Blackthorn. Your bus is here with your gear in case you need it, though it’s an acoustic set so a speaker and a hookup is plenty. Your bus is yours to use as you wish—”
“I know my bus is mine,” I said. “Just point me in that direction, and I’ll take it from here.”
Both Delia and Hank looked over at me before the coordinator pointed.
“Thanks.”
I didn’t wait around for either of them to lecture me on my tone of voice. Hank fucking acted like my mother, and Delia was quickly becoming that nagging little voice I wanted to squash like a bug. I heard the pitter patter of little feet behind me as I strode for my bus, pulling the door open and stepping inside.
I heard someone step in behind me before the door closed.
“Sure you wanna do that?” I asked.
I looked up into a mirror and saw Delia’s reflection standing at the front of the bus.
“Didn’t realize you’d need all this for a local performance,” she said.
“Gets brought to every performance,” I said. “Personal protocol. If you don’t wanna attend the performance, you can stay on the bus.”
“Sounds fine with me,” she said.
“I got a forty-five-minute set, so try not to miss me too much.”
“It’ll be hard, but I think I can manage.”
My eyes whipped to hers in the mirror before I turned around and picked up my guitar.
“Enjoy the bus,” I said, as I maneuvered past her. “When I’m done, we can get on back to the ranch.”
I stepped off the bus before she could say anything. I didn’t give a shit what she did, honestly. If she got into her truck and drove off, she’d be doing both of us a fucking favor. I walked up to Hank who was still talking to the coordinator, getting logistics and probably working out payment options for the gig.
“I’m not taking payment,” I said.
“What?” Hank asked.
“Don’t pay me for this gig. Keep your money,” I said.
“Mr. Blackthorn, Autism Speaks sets aside funds for stuff like this.”
“Keep the money and put it to better use. If artists demand to be paid for things like this, then they don’t need to be doing it. Though you could’ve made it an afternoon concert if you’re looking for suggestions.”
I marched off toward the venue, ready to warm up and tune my guitar. Delia was alone on the bus doing fuck-knew-what, Hank was probably pissed I wasn’t accepting payment, and this guitar hadn’t seen the light of fucking day in almost a year. It would take me all my damn warm-up time just to tune the fucking thing, but I didn’t care.
It would be worth it to see those kids smile.
The End
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ONE MORE TIME: A SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE
Prologue
The moment our lips connected, I felt myself come to life. His lips tasted delicious. His body was throbbing against mine as his hands meandered along my skin. Our tongues lapped lazily at one another, neither of us battling for dominance but neither of us backing down.
I felt his cock growing against me, hard and thick and ready to be inside me. His hands slid my pants down, grasping my naked ass as I smiled against his lips. I trailed kisses down his neck as his hand found my folds, dripping and wet for him as he explored my wet folds. I left love bites on his neck and raked my teeth down his chest, my hand descending beyond his boxers and wrapping around his length.
“Shit, Chanel. Fuck.”
I spread my legs further for him, wanting his fingers buried inside of me.
He slid two fingers in, filling me up as I moaned into his neck. I rocked against his hand as his lips found mine, claiming dominance over my body as he bent me over the couch. I rolled my hips against his hand as his cock jumped in my palm. I could feel his warmed leaking down his skin, warm and dripping onto my fingertips as I slowly slipped my hand up and down his shaft. He was moaning into my lips and bucking against my body as I began to pant. His fingers stretched me perfectly as his thumb found my pulsing clit, and soon, I was a whimpering, gasping mess against his couch.
I brought my head up and connected our lips again, sucking his bottom lip between my teeth. He groaned as I sat up, allowing my lips to suckle on his before our eyes connected in the middle of his apartment living room.
I released his throbbing cock as he shoved his boxers down to the floor and then quickly worked me out of my pants.
He rushed up my body and picked me up in his arms, carrying me to his bedroom. I held his gaze the entire time as my back descended to his sheets.
I watched him perch between my thighs, my legs tossed haphazardly over his shoulders. His hands crawled up my skin, electrifying me as his hands wrapped around my tits. His fingers tugged at them, forcing my head to fall back on the pillows as his tongue lapped at me.
He licked a long, thick stripe up my slit that had me moaning and writhing uncontrollably.
His tongue licked between my dripping folds and found my clit immediately. He started slowly. Languidly. Licking at it as my juices poured from between my legs. My hands ran over his head as my hips began to roll against his mouth. His hands pinned my hips to his bed, ceasing my movements as his lips puckered around my swollen nub.
My legs were shaking, and my toes were curling. With every stroke he took, he stroked a fire in my gut. That burning sensation started to encompass the whole of my body, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. His pace became faster, and his tongue pressed deeper. I was breathless as I moaned his name, chanting it like a ritualistic prayer. I was allowed small undulations, the slightest bit of control as I rolled against his tongue. His hands massaged my hips and worked their way down my thighs. He freed my movements, allowing me to buck against his lips as my heels dug into his back.
“Please, baby. Please. I’m so close. Don’t stop. Please.”
Chapter 1
Chanel
Is it too late to change my mind?
“I still can’t believe we’re going on this idiotic cruise.”
“Oh, come on. You’re a journalist. Don’t you take photos and shit?” Ana asked.
“I’m not a photojournalist, woman.”
“Well, don’t pictures have to go with your blog posts or whatever?” she asked.
“Is that really all you think I do? Write blog posts and sit around in my underwear?”
“Well, you’re always so freakin’ happy. I figured it had to be something like that. Fuck knows you’re not getting laid properly.”
“And here we go again,” I said with a sigh.
“Come on. You and I both know you fake your orgasms. All the time.”
“How the hell would you know this? You aren’t in the room when I’m having sex.”
“Oh, come on. With how tightly wound you are? And the fact that you haven’t seriously dated anyone since Rhett isn’t a coincidence.”
“I do not want to hear that name,” I said.
“And I also saw your little bag of fun you packed over there. That’s a new vibrator, isn’t it?”
“Ana!”
“Look. I get i
t. You’re stuck on your high school sweetheart, but seriously you gotta get off that train and find yourself a new man. Stop sleeping with those non-committal guys you meet during last call at these bars you drag me to. You deserve so much better.”
“I don’t drag you anywhere. The last time we went out, you literally rolled me out of my bed.”
“That’s what you get for giving me a key.”
“I’m gonna take it from you. Or change the locks,” I said.
“And yet, you haven’t. Face it. I’m the only source of excitement in your life, which is pathetic. The money you spent on those vibrators and butt plugs should be spent on lingerie for your man with a thick dick.”
“Get me one of those, and I’ll show you someone willing to buy lingerie. And I don’t have butt plugs.”
“Then I don’t know what the hell that other thing was in there, you nasty freak.”
The time had come for the moment which is the pinnacle of being reminded that you’re getting old. Ana’s and my ten-year high school reunion had come to pass and, like always, our class president outdid herself. Connie Thomas, the preppiest bitch to ever walk the hallways of that damn place, had asked the entire class to RSVP for a Caribbean cruise. A cruise! Who the hell takes a cruise for a ten-year class reunion?
It was just about as ridiculous as it could get.
In all fairness, high school hadn’t been completely terrible, not until the last few weeks. That was when I had my heart broken and my dreams shattered before I headed off to college.
Rhett Smith, the most beautiful high school boy to ever exist, had stolen my heart. I was a nerd of the highest proportions. Took accelerated classes like Chemistry and Calculus while he was doing things like ramming into opponents on the lacrosse field. He trained in the high school gym with his buddies and ran cross-country with his best friend, Tommy Rider. I was head over heels for him and he was the perfect boyfriend.
Things were perfect, until Rhett shattered everything.
“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Ana asked.
“Thinking about who?”
“Do I look like I was born yesterday? Rhett, duh. You’ve got that dreamy look in your eyes.”
“I don’t know about dreamy. Rhett’s the last man I should be spending any time thinking about, other than the thought of keeping my distance from him.” I said.
“Damn right! That man broke your fucking heart. He took your virginity and then fucked someone else on prom night.”
“Thank you for the rundown of the culmination of my high school career. Bitch.”
“Hey, don’t get pissy with me. We’re about to go on a nice Caribbean cruise. And we aren’t going to be the only people on this ship. I’m sure there will be lots of muscular, chiseled hunks of man meat with giant anaconda dicks to give you that big ‘O’ you’re looking for.”
“You’re relentless,” I said.
“And you’ve yet to move on romantically since high school. Rhett isn’t the only guy that can make you come, you know.”
“I’m not saying he is!”
I felt Ana’s eyes on me as I continued to pack. I wasn’t really sure what she was so concerned about. I knew Rhett was trouble just as much as her. But, she was right, I hadn’t dated since Rhett. At first, I had been too scared. And then, I’d been too busy. Then, I was too focused on my career, and before I knew it I was sleeping with random guys at the bar just to feel something.
And none of them could made me orgasm.
None of them.
“Chanel, look at me.”
I lifted my eyes to look at my best friend as she zipped up her suitcase.
“We’re going to find you someone on this ship or on these islands who can rock your world. I know once you find out another man besides that asshole can make you feel good, you’ll forget all about him.”
“I still hate him so much,” I said. “Yet, I have these damn butterflies in my stomach when I…”
“You’re fantasizing about high school, a time in our lives where we wore blue mascara, put way too much hair spray in our hair, and had horrible back acne. It wasn’t that glamorous,” Ana said.
“You had back acne?” I asked.
“You didn’t? The point is this cruise can be a fresh start for us both.”
“You just want to see if Tommy’s going to be there,” I said.
“Sorry. Your ex’s best friend was hot back then, so I’m sure he’s hot as hell now. But Rhett probably looks a wreck. I bet he’s bald and fat now. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“So, Tommy’s a stud and Rhett assumed to be a nasty piece of trash.” I asked.
“Yep. That’s karma when you break my best friend’s heart. He’ll always be that in my eyes,” she said. “Now, please tell me you have a bikini to show off that body of yours. We’re going to be sunbathing, baby!”
“I have three,” I said.
“Oh, yes. You can have a drinking bikini, a lounging around bikini, and a swimming bikini.”
“Can’t I just use all three for all those activities?” I asked.
“Ew. No. Girl, you still have a lot to learn about being a female. But luckily, you have me as your best friend.”
“I’m twenty-seven years old. If I don’t know how to be a girl now, then it’s not going to happen,” I said.
“You’ve got curves in all the right places, sweetheart. You’ve got that long brown hair and those light blue eyes. I see men staring at you no matter where we go. I know what’s underneath those clothes. We hit the gym every damn day. But you don’t know how to dress yourself. It’s all jeans and T-shirts and the occasional pencil skirt that looks awful on you.”
“Awful? Pencil skirts look awesome on girls with curves,” I said.
“Yes, when you’re in your thirties. But when you’re still living it up in your twenties, it’s an entirely different sense of fashion. Plus, if you’re going to win big at the auction, you’re gonna need to spice your shit up.”
I stopped what I was doing and stared at Ana. “Uh, what ‘auction’ are you referring to Ana?”
Ana smiled deviously and batted her eyelashes at me. “Oh, didn’t I tell you? I signed you up for the charity date auction. You know, you get on stage and hot guys fight over who gets to spend an evening with you?”
My heart stopped in my chest and my mouth went dry. “Ana! Why the fuck would you do that?”
Ana rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Because, you need some sort of fun in your life. Plus, it’s for a good cause. All the money raised is going toward Jeff Banks’ medical bills.”
“Wait, Jeff Banks? The guy from the class below us that had cancer?” I asked.
“Yep. You don’t want to be a dick and not help your fellow man, do you?” Ana asked, knowing damn well that I couldn’t say no now.
I sighed and shook my head. “Fine,” I said.
Ana giggled and clapped her hands like a little girl. “Good. Trust me, you’re gonna thank me for this later.”
“I doubt it. Still, auction or not, I’ll stick to my jeans and T-shirts,” I said.
“For the love of fuck, please don’t tell me that’s all you packed.”
“It’s not all I packed,” I said, grinning. “I’m just playing with you.”
“So if I pull open your drawers, I’m going to see all your jeans in there?” she asked.
“I packed a couple, but it’s not the bulk of my suitcase.”
“Unzip it,” she said.
“What?”
“Open up your suitcase. I’m checking your shit.”
“It’s a good thing we don’t live together. I’d have killed you by now,” I said.
I stepped off to the side and let Ana rummage through my things. She was tossing everything I had folded and packed for myself as I rolled my eyes. I loved her to death, but we were completely different people. She was obsessed with makeup and fashion and Louis Vuitton heels, and I couldn't have cared less what I wore on a reg
ular basis. I dressed up for work and to go out, but the rest of the time was spent in very comfortable jeans and shirts I could breathe in.
Not shirts that hiked my tits up to my chin.
Ana started rifling through my closet as I sat down. She was going to single-handedly repack me for this cruise, so I let her have at it. I had a separate backpack already in the trunk of my car, packed with jeans and my most comfortable off-the-shoulder shirts. I grinned as she packed skirts and dresses, heels I didn’t even remember purchasing, and panty sets that made me roll my eyes.
“We’re gonna get you laid on this trip. Mark my words,” Ana said.
“Have you seen the RSVP list?” I asked.
Ana sighed as she zipped up my suitcase.
“I have, yes.”
“Do you know if Rhett’s name is on it?” I asked.
“Why do you think I’m packing you all these revenge outfits?”
“So he is coming,” I said.
I felt Ana’s eyes on me as I sat back against the wall.
“Have you two spoken at all since he broke up with you?” Ana asked.
“Nope. Not one peep out of him in ten years, which was for the best, I guess. I’m just not thrilled about being trapped on a boat with him for a week. I was hoping maybe he wasn’t going to be there.”
“Even though I know you’re ready to hop on that dick?” she asked.
“I’m not ready to hop on anything,” I said. “Fuck, Ana. Is this whole thing good idea? Should we back out?”
“Hey. I upgraded our tickets on this cruise. We get all the top-shelf drinks we want. You aren’t backing out on me now. I need a drinking buddy.”
“Wait, you did what? How much did that cost? How much do I owe you?” I asked.
“Chanel, I did this for two reasons. One, we’re going to be in the Caribbean with some serious hunks. And, if Rhett is there and I have to beat his ass, then we can drink the nights away and have a bitch-a-thon. We can curse him out, you can slap his face, and then we can go have celebratory drinks and walk away with him out of your system.”