Lick: Stage Dive 1

by Scott, Kylie

  “I need …” I turned my face to him, searching for his mouth. He fit his lips to mine, making everything right. Kissing David healed every ill. The knot of tension inside me turned into something sweet at the taste of him, the feel of his body against mine. One arm was trapped underneath me but the other I made full use of, touching all of him within reach. Kneading his shoulder and feeling the hard, smooth planes of his back.

  When I sucked on his tongue he moaned in the back of his throat and my confidence soared. His hand slipped between my legs. Just the pressure of his palm had me seeing stars. I broke off the kiss, unable to breathe. He touched me gently at first, letting me get used to him. The things his fingers could do.

  “Elvis couldn’t be with us today,” he said.

  “What?” I asked, mystified.

  He stopped and put two fingers into his mouth, wetting them or tasting me I didn’t know. Didn’t matter. What was important was him putting his hand back on me, fast.

  “I didn’t want to share this with anyone.” The tip of his finger pushed into me, easing inside just a little. Pulling back before pressing in again. It didn’t have the same thrill attached to it that came with him stroking me but it didn’t hurt. Not yet.

  “So, no Elvis. I’ll have to ask the questions,” he said.

  I frowned at him, finding it hard to focus on what he was saying. It couldn’t be as important as him touching me. The pursuit of pleasure ruled my mind. Maybe he babbled during foreplay. I didn’t know. If he wanted, I was more than willing to listen to him later.

  His gaze lingered on my breasts until finally he dipped his head, taking one into his mouth. My back bowed, pushing his finger further inside. The way his mouth drew on me erased any discomfort. He stroked me between my legs and the pleasure grew. I tingled in the best way possible. When I did this, it was nice. When David did it, it reached the heights of spectacular, stellar. I knew he was crazy good at guitar, but this had to be where his true talent lay. Honestly.

  “God, David.” I arched against him when he moved to my other breast. Two fingers worked inside me, a little uncomfortable but nothing I couldn’t handle. Not so long as he kept his mouth on me, lavishing my breasts with attention. His thumb rubbed around a sweet spot and my eyes rolled back into my head. So close. The strength of what was building was staggering. Mind blowing. My body was going to be blown to dust, atoms, when this hit.

  If he stopped I’d cry. Cry, and beg. And maybe kill.

  Happily, he didn’t stop.

  I came groaning, every muscle drawn taut. It was almost too much. Almost. I floated, my body limp, satiated for all time. Or at least until the next time.

  When I opened my eyes again, he was there waiting. He ripped open the condom with his teeth and then put it on. I’d barely caught my breath when he rose over me, moved between my legs.

  “Good?” he asked, with a smile of satisfaction.

  A nod was the best I could do.

  He took the bulk of his weight onto his elbows, his body pressing me into the bed. I’d noticed he enjoyed using his size to the advantage of both of us. It worked. Certainly, there was nothing boring or claustrophobic about the position. I don’t know why I’d thought there would be. In the back of Tommy Byrnes parents’ car I’d been cramped and uncomfortable, but this was nothing like that. Lying underneath him, feeling the heat of his skin against mine, was perfect. And there could be no doubting how much he wanted this. I lay there, waiting for him to push into me.

  Still waiting.

  He brushed his lips against mine. “Do you, Evelyn Jennifer Thomas, agree to stay married to me, David Vincent Ferris?”

  Oh, that was the Elvis he’d been talking about. The one who’d married us. Huh. I held back his hair, needing to see his eyes. I should have asked him to tie it back. It made it hard to try and gauge his seriousness.

  “You really want to do this now?” I asked, a little thrown. I’d been so busy worrying about the sex I hadn’t seen this coming.

  “Absolutely. We’re doing our vows again right now.”

  “Yes?” I said.

  He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes at me. The look on his face was distinctly pained. “Yes? You’re not sure?”

  “No. I mean, yes,” I repeated, more definitely. “Yes. I’m sure. I am.”

  “Thank fuck for that.” His hand rifled under the pillow next to me, returning with the ring of stupendousness sparkling between his fingers. “Hand.”

  I held my hand between us and he slid the ring on. My cheeks hurt, I was smiling so hard. “Did you say ‘yes’ too?”

  “Yes.” He took my mouth in a hard kiss. His hand slid down my side, over my stomach to cup me between my legs. Everything there was still sensitive and no doubt wet. The hunger in his kisses and the way he touched me assured me he certainly didn’t mind.

  He fit himself to me and pushed in. This was it. And suddenly, shit, I couldn’t relax. The memory of pain from the last time I’d attempted this messed with my mind. Wet didn’t matter when my muscles wouldn’t give. I gasped, my thighs squeezing his hips. David was hard and thick and it hurt.

  “Look at me,” he said. The blue of his eyes had darkened and his jaw was set. His damp skin gleamed in the low lighting. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” My voice sounded shaky even to my own ears.

  “Kiss me.” He lowered his face and I did so, pressing my tongue into his mouth, needing him. Carefully, he rocked against me, moving deeper inside me. The pad of his thumb played around my clit, counteracting the hurt. The pain eased, coming closer to being plain old discomfort with an edge of pleasure. No problem. This I could handle.

  Fingers wrapped around my leg before sliding down to cup a butt cheek. He pulled me in against him and moved deeper inside me. Rocking against me until I’d taken him all. Which was a problem, because there wasn’t enough damn room in me for him.

  “It’s okay,” he groaned.

  Easy for him to say.

  Shit.

  Bodies flush against each another we lay there, unmoving. My arms were around his head so tight, clinging to him, that I’m not certain how he breathed. Somehow he managed to turn his face enough to kiss my neck, lick the sweat from my skin. Up, over my jaw to my mouth. The death grip I had on him eased when he kissed me.

  “That’s it,” he said. “Try and relax for me.”

  I nodded jerkily, willing my body to unwind.

  “You are so damn beautiful and, God, you feel fucking amazing.” His big hand petted my breast, calloused fingers stroking down my side, easing me. My muscles began to relax incrementally, adjusting to his presence. The hurt faded more every time he touched me, whispering words of praise.

  “This is good,” I said at last, my hands resting on his biceps. “I’m okay.”

  “No, you’re better than okay. You’re amazing.”

  I gave him a giddy smile. He said the best things.

  “You mean I can move?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He started rocking against me again, moving a little more each time. Gradually gaining momentum as our bodies moved slickly together. We fit, mostly. And we were actually doing it, the deed. Talk about feeling close to someone. You couldn’t get physically closer. I was so profoundly glad it was him. It meant everything.

  Tommy had lasted two seconds. Long enough to break my hymen and hurt me. David touched me and kissed me and took his time. Slowly, the sweet heat, that sensation of pressure building, came again. He tended to it with care, feeding me long, wet kisses. Stroking himself into me in a way that brought only pleasure. He was incredible, watching me so closely, gauging my reactions to everything he did.

  Eventually, I clung onto him and came hard. It felt like the New Year’s fireworks display inside me, hot and bright and perfect. So much more with inside and over me, his skin plastered to mine. I stuttered out his name and he pressed hard against me. When he groaned his whole body shuddered. He buried his face in my neck, his breath heating my skin
.

  We’d done it.

  Huh.

  Wow.

  Things did ache a little. People were right about that. But nothing like last time.

  Carefully, he moved off me, collapsing on the bed at my side.

  “We did it,” I whispered.

  His eyes opened. His chest was still heaving, working to get more air into him. After a moment, he rolled onto his side to face me. There’d never been a better man. Of this I was certain.

  “Yeah. You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I shuffled closer, seeking out the heat of his body. He slid an arm over my waist, drawing me in. Letting me know I was wanted. Our faces were a bare hand’s width apart. “It was so much better than last time. I think I like sex after all.”

  “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.”

  “Were you nervous?”

  He chuckled shuffling closer. “Not as nervous as you were. I’m glad you liked it.”

  “I loved it. You’re a man of many talents.”

  His smile took on a certain glow.

  “You’re not going to get all cocky on me now, are you? All puns intended.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. I trust you to keep me grounded, Mrs Ferris.”

  “Mrs Ferris,” I said, with no small amount of wonder. “How about that?”

  “Hmm.” His fingers stroked my face.

  I caught his bare hand, inspecting it. “You don’t have a ring.”

  “No, I don’t. We’ll have to fix that.”

  “Yes, we will.”

  He smiled. “Hey, Mrs Ferris.”

  “Hey, Mr Ferris.”

  There wasn’t enough room in me for all the feelings he inspired.

  Not even close.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  We spent the afternoon back down in the recording studio with Tyler and Mal. When David wasn’t playing he pulled me onto his lap. When he was busy on guitar, I listened in awe of his talent. He didn’t sing, so I remained in the dark about the lyrics. But the music was beautiful in a raw, rock ’n’ roll sort of way. Mal seemed pleased with the new material, bopping his head along in time.

  Tyler beamed behind the splendid board of buttons and dials. “Play that lick again, Dave.” My husband nodded and his fingers moved over the fretboard, making magic.

  Pam had been busy while we’d been upstairs, starting on unpacking the collection of boxes. When she made a move to return to the job in the early evening I went with her. Unasked or not, it wasn’t fair that she got lumped with the task on her own. Plus, it pleased my inner need to organize. I snuck back downstairs now and then as the hours passed, stealing kisses, before heading back up to help Pam again. David and co remained immersed in the music. They’d come up seeking food or drink but returned immediately to the studio.

  “This is what it’s like when they’re recording. They lose track of time, get caught up in the music. The number of dinners Tyler has missed because he simply forgot!” said Pam, hands busy unpacking the latest box.

  “It’s their job, but it’s also their first love,” she continued, dusting off an Asian-style bowl. “You know that one old girlfriend that’s always hanging around the fringes, drunk dialing them at all hours and asking them to come over?”

  I laughed. “How do you deal with never getting to come first?”

  “You have to strike a balance. Music’s a part of them that you have to accept, hon. Fighting it won’t work. Have you ever been really passionate about something?”

  “No,” I answered in all honesty, eyeing up another stringed instrument I’d never seen the likes of. It had intricate carving encircling the sound hole. “I enjoy college. I love being a barista, it’s a great job. I really like the people. But I can’t sling coffee for the rest of my life.” I stopped, grimaced. “God, those are my father’s words. Forget I ever said that.”

  “You can totally sling coffee for the rest of your life, if you so choose,” she said. “But sometimes it takes time to find your thing. There’s no rush. I was a born and bred photographer.”

  “That’s great.”

  Pam smiled, her gaze going distant. “That’s how Tyler and I met. I went on tour for a couple of days with the band he was in at the time. I ended up going right around Europe with them. We got married in Venice at the end of the tour and we’ve been together ever since.”

  “That’s a wonderful story.”

  “Yeah,” Pam sighed. “It was a wonderful time.”

  “Did you study photography?”

  “No, my father taught me. He worked for National Geographic. He put a camera in my hand at age six and I refused to give it back. The next day he brought me an old second-hand one. I carried it everywhere I went. Everything I saw was through its lens. Well, you know what I mean … the world made sense when I looked at it that way. Better than that, it made everything beautiful, special.” She pulled a couple of books out of a box, adding them to the shelves built into one wall. We’d already managed to half fill them with various books and mementoes.

  “You know, David’s dated a lot of women over the years. But he’s different with you. I don’t know … the way he watches you, I think it’s adorable. It’s the first time he’s brought anyone here in six years.”

  “Why was the place empty so long?”

  Pam’s smile faded and she avoided my eyes. “He wanted it to be his place to come home to, but then things changed. The band was just hitting it big. I guess things got complicated. He could explain it to you best.”

  “Right,” I said, intrigued.

  Pam sat back on her haunches, looking around the room. “Listen to me rabbiting on. We’ve been at this all day. I think we deserve a break.”

  “I second that.”

  Nearly half the boxes were open. The contents we couldn’t think of an immediate home for were lined up along one wall. A big plush black couch had been delivered. It fit the house and its owner perfectly. With various rugs, pictures and instruments strewn about, the place had almost begun to look like a home. I wondered if David would approve. Easily, I could picture us spending time here when I wasn’t in classes. Or maybe holidays would be spent touring. Our future was a beautiful, dazzling thing, filled with promise.

  In the here and now, however, I still hadn’t caught up with Lauren. A fact that caused me great guilt. Explaining this situation didn’t appeal and nor did confessing my fast-growing feelings for David.

  “Come on, let’s go grab some food from down the road. The bar does the best ribs you’ve ever tasted. Tyler goes crazy for them,” said Pam.

  “That’s a brilliant idea. I’ll just let him know we’re going. Do I need to change?” I had on the black jeans and tank top, a pair of Converse. The only shoes I’d been able to find among Martha’s buys that didn’t feature four-inch-plus heels. For once, I looked almost rock ’n’ roll-associated. Pam wore jeans and a white shirt, a heavy turquoise necklace around her throat. It was casual in theory, but Pam was a striking woman.

  “You’re dressed fine,” she said. “Don’t worry. It’s very relaxed.”

  “Alright.”

  The sound of music still drifted up from downstairs. When I went down there the door was shut and the red light shining. I could see Tyler with headphones on, busy at the console. I’d forgotten to charge my phone with all the recent excitement. But I didn’t have David’s phone number so I couldn’t have texted him anyway. I didn’t want to interrupt. In the end, I left a note on the kitchen bench. We wouldn’t be gone long. David probably wouldn’t even notice.

  The bar was a traditional wooden wonderland with a big jukebox and three pool tables. Staff called out “hello”s to Pam as we walked in. No one even blinked at me, which was a relief. The place was packed. It felt good to be back out among people, just part of the crowd. Pam had phoned ahead but the order wasn’t ready yet. Apparently the kitchen was every bit as busy as the bar. We grabbed a couple of drinks and settled in to wait. It was a nice place, very relaxed. There
was lots of laughter and country music blared from the jukebox. My fingers tapped along in time.

  “Let’s dance,” said Pam, grabbing my hand and tugging me out of my chair. She bopped and swayed as I followed her onto the crowded dance floor.

  It felt good to let loose. Sugarland turned into Miranda Lambert and I raised my arms, moving to the music. A guy came up behind me and grabbed my hips but he backed up a step when I shook my head with a smile. He grinned back at me and kept dancing, not moving away. A man spun Pam and she whooped, letting him draw her into a loose hold. They seemed to know each other.

  When the guy beside me moved a little closer I didn’t object. He kept his hands to himself and it was all friendly enough. I didn’t know the next song but it had a good beat and we kept right on moving. My skin grew damp with sweat, my hair clinging to my face. Then Dierks Bentley came on. I’d had a terrible crush on him since age twelve, but it was all about his pretty blond hair and nothing to do with his music. My love for him was a shameful thing.

  Dude One moved away and another took his place, slipping an arm around my waist and trying to pull me in against him. I planted my hands on his chest and pushed back, giving him the same smile and headshake that had worked on the last. He might have been only about my height, despite the huge hat, but he was built solid. He had a big barrel of a chest and he stank of cigarette smoke.

  “No,” I said, still trying to push him off me. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry, darlin’,” he yelled in my ear, knocking me in the forehead with the brim of his hat. “Dance with me.”

  “Let go.”

  He grinned and his hands slapped down hard on both my butt cheeks. The jerkoff started grinding himself against me.

  “Hey!” I pushed against him, getting nowhere. “Get off me.”

  “Darlin’.” The letch leaned in to kiss me, smacking me in the nose with the brim of his hat again. It hurt. Also, I hated him. If I could just wiggle my leg between his and knee the asswipe in the groin, I’d be able to even the playing field. Or leave him writhing on the floor crying for his mommy. An outcome I was fine with.