Marc guffawed. “Dude . . . oh, I mean, Pooh bear, my girl’s here. Chat time is over.”
And just for that . . .
Tom intercepted Lizzie and gave her a long and lingering hug, capped off with a kiss to her cheek and a whispered message. “I will make you pay for that one of these days.”
“Pfft,” she said, her fingers skimming his cheek fondly. A beautiful smile brightened her face as her eyes landed on Marc.
Two happy best friends.
Tom liked that. Time, though, to work on himself, he thought as he watched Lizzie go to Marc and kiss him. “Look at you two,” Tom said, lifting his beer in the air. “Here’s to you happy fuckers.”
Lizzie turned in Marc’s arms and they all laughed. “Oh, Pooh bear, you’ll find someone someday.”
He knew she was just kidding but that still stung a little. “If I had a pool, you’d so be heading for a cold dunk right now.”
“All talk,” Lizzie said while stealing his beer from him.
The eyes rolled hard in his head as he watched her finish off his drink. “Want a beer, Liz?” he asked, the sarcasm heavy on his tongue.
“Yeah, thanks.”
Tom nodded at Marc then turned to leave the two lovebirds alone.
“Tom?” Lizzie called out.
Without speaking, he turned around and she strode over to him and wrapped him her embrace. “I love you.” And with that she let him know just where he still ranked in her life . . . as her best friend.
“Love you too, Lizzie.”
She could have this career and this new boyfriend who just happened to be his other best friend, but there would always be this special connection between them.
He and Lizzie . . . friends to the end.
Marc
September 2006
The last time he’d been this excited was maybe when he was nine and about to go to Great America for the first time. That was the only thing Marc could think of that could even compare with going on tour with four of his best friends. He’d even dug his old video camera out and had been documenting everything. The first time the tour bus rolled into view or when they climbed aboard the monster home on wheels. He made sure to record each member’s reaction.
All the years these four had worked their asses off to get to this point. They were all over the music charts . . . the media. It didn’t hurt when you had four hot as fuck people either. It wasn’t just Mia in the spotlight as the singer. She shared it with her bandmates, though she did get a little more because of who she was dating. The visuals the four of them made together helped sell them. This little tour was testament to that. They weren’t in arenas or stadiums yet, but Marc knew that was just around the corner.
Last Star’s first single, “Feels So Good,” was the song of the summer and their current song, “Fading Star,” was following in the first’s footsteps.
“Holy fuck! Look at this tour bus!” Mia exclaimed, opening up the curtains on all six bunks. “I call bottom bunk.”
“Good call, brat,” Marty said, tossing his bag on the top bed. Todd and Clark took bunks on the opposite side and then, Marc took the one right above Mia. Then the five of them headed back into the main area, each with a beer from the fridge, and got lost in their thoughts.
About five minutes later, a tall and sexy as fuck blonde stepped on the bus, surveying the scene before her. Marc had no idea who she was, but by her appearance knew that she meant business.
“See?” Todd said, elbowing him in the stomach.
“See what?” Marc returned.
“Allie!” Mia said excitedly and then the pieces started fitting together. Their manager.
The blonde smiled and it lit up the dark space. She seriously was stunning.
With her long index finger, she started counting off. “One, two, three, four . . . five?” she spoke, landing on him.
Clark grimaced like he forgot something. “Yeah . . . sorry about that. Allie, this is Marc, my brother—”
“And our most awesome friend,” Mia piped in, a huge grin on her face. Marc shot her one back.
“Marc, this is Allie, our manager,” Clark continued. Marc stood up and they exchanged greetings, then she turned back to the band, towering over them as they sat crowded in the dining booth.
“Any beds left?” she asked.
“Yep,” Mia answered and squeezed out to go show Allie.
After Allie took care of her luggage, the bus took off. Next stop, Hershey, Pennsylvania. Marc hoped he’d have some time to get his girl some chocolate.
Not much happened in the first hours of the ride besides the guys inventorying the contents of the pantry and the fridge. Mia had received a call from Ethan and the guys teased her about it. She took it like a champ . . . her face flushing in a happy blush. Marc liked that look on her, a far cry from how she was with Luke.
When they settled back down, Allie prepared them and discussed how things would go down at the show, the routines that needed to happen. The four soaked it up, their eyes all trained on their manager’s face. After that meeting, everyone headed to the bunks to get some rest.
But when his head hit the pillow, his thoughts turned to Lizzie. Marc hadn’t liked the idea of being away from her for so long, but it afforded him the opportunity to come out on tour with his brother and friends. Still, he missed her and reached into his bag for his phone. He shot off a quick text and she replied right back. They exchanged a few texts talking about their day and her work, then she surprised him with a picture of her standing in front of the hotel bathroom’s mirror—completely naked. His cock liked that picture a whole lot. Glancing down and seeing the tent it made, instinct had him releasing it.
Can you show me your response to my pic?
Oh, hell yeah he could and he did. While he waited for her response, Marc stroked himself, picturing her small hand beneath his, her mouth teasing the base.
I miss you . . . and that huge cock of yours.
He released his grip and replied.
I miss you too . . . and my cock misses that pussy of yours. I can’t wait to fuck it again.
Imagining it right now.
Was she . . . ?
Me too, Elizabeth.
After he sent his response, he went back to stroking his cock because he just knew her fingers were busy too, thinking about him fucking her. It didn’t take him long to get his cock spurting its release, especially with the visual of Lizzie touching herself. After snapping a picture of the aftermath, he hopped out of his bunk and hurried to the small bathroom to clean up, noticing the lit up television.
When he exited the bathroom, he spied, with the help of the illuminating TV light, Mia chilling on the sofa, the blanket pulled up to her chin.
“I thought you’d gone to bed,” he remarked.
“It’s really dark in there,” she answered, lifting her eyes from the screen to him and he couldn’t miss her bright, watery eyes. She had never said it outright to him but Marc knew Mia battled her own demons . . . just like he did. He recognized that in her. Maybe that’s why they got along so well. Kindred spirits.
“Want some company?” he asked to which she nodded her head. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
He quickly went back to his bunk to throw on his shirt and grab his phone, then he returned to his friend, who had sat up to give him room to get comfortable. She snuggled in front of him and they watched—
“Titanic? Seriously?”
“Oh hush. It’s a good movie.”
“He dies.”
“I know. I’ve seen it like twenty times.”
“I used to think you were cool . . . but now, I don’t know . . .”
“Sorry, no artsy-fartsy movies allowed on this bus,” she informed him after playfully elbowing him in the stomach.
“I watch more than that,” he shot back though his brain started rolling through the last movies he’d seen. Clearing his throat, he added. “I’m sure Clark brought some movies . . .”
“Yeah. Batman and X-Men m
ore than likely. This is the best option. Now, shh! Good part.”
While Mia watched the boat hit the iceberg, Marc checked his phone and smiled at another message from Lizzie.
I wish you were in this bed beside me.
He sent the picture he’d taken of him coming along with another text.
I wish you would’ve done this to me.
Oh, I’ll definitely be doing that the next time we see each other, but instead of your stomach, it’ll be in my mouth.
His head fell back against the cushion, a tortured groan passing over his lips.
“What?” Mia asked, turning to look at him.
“Just a text from Lizzie.”
“A hot text?”
“Yeah,” he answered.
“Those are torture,” she reflected, her eyes going back to the movie.
“Oh . . . you sext with Ethan?” he teased.
She laughed. “I guess. All it does is frustrate me even more. I can’t think past me wanting him.”
“You got that right,” he said, staring at the picture of Lizzie on his phone, and wanting nothing more than his girl.
When Marc returned home from the road (how cool was that to say?), he was beyond exhausted and missed Lizzie something fierce. Their text messages had definitely heated up his bunk the past two weeks. His cock had been in a constant semi-hard to hard state from them and the images they evoked in his brain.
And that was pretty much him fucking her up against whatever surface he could.
Soon, he hoped.
Her flight was due to come in late that evening, so Marc had half the day to himself and decided to take care of all the souvenirs he’d brought back from tour, including the many boxes of chocolate for Lizzie. He had loads of video of the band and would have to catalog it . . . eventually. The shows had been freaking insane. So much better than pre-record deal. Their new album polished up those old songs . . . and in turn, the band. The wonders of great producers.
His friends were coming into their own on stage. Each show . . . better and better. Marc was so proud of them. Mia . . . holy hell! He had never noticed how fucking hot she was. His baby girl . . . the girl he saw as his little sister . . . was sex personified onstage. And from the way Marty, Clark, and Todd had circled around to protect Mia from the overzealous fans, they knew it too.
Marc already missed the wonderful insanity of it all. Being with his friends. The late nights and parties, even though they weren’t as crazy as he’d expected. Mia, his normal drug buddy, hadn’t wanted to partake. That wasn’t a bad thing, he was just surprised by her choice. She’d always been right by his side, his partner in crime, when it came to taking the drugs. But he didn’t make a big deal about it. He sat by her side. Though the temptation to smoke a joint about buckled him. It was just routine to him. The five of them got together, they got drunk and high. So, each after party, it was harder and harder not to join Todd, Marty, and Clark, and light one up.
But he had been proud of himself for not doing so and as he stood in his home, he was thankful to be there and away from temptation. He didn’t know how much longer he could’ve held out.
Another thing he didn’t miss from life on the road was the small ass shower made for people half a foot shorter than him. Intent on taking a shower in his house where he didn’t have to bend and contort his body to wash his hair, Marc started shedding his clothes as he made his way up to his room. Turning on the water, he tested the temperature, adjusting it a little before stepping in.
He fucking groaned when the hot beads of water hit his skin. Tilting his head back, the water drenched his hair. He’d never thought that would feel so good. Almost as good as sex.
Almost.
That was next on his list of things to do today. Except he needed Lizzie . . . and that sassy mouth wrapped around his cock instead of his hand stroking it. Though, this felt ten times better than what he’d been doing the past couple of weeks.
Resting his forearm against the cool, tiled wall, he continued to run his closed fist up and down the length of his dick, crowning the top, imagining Lizzie’s lips in the same place.
“That is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Marc whipped his head up at her voice. Lizzie stood in his bathroom, her ass resting against the counter in her sexy fucking yellow work dress. The glow of her smile enveloped him from across the room.
“Shit, Lizzie,” he exclaimed, dropping his hand from his cock.
“No. Don’t stop,” she ordered. “Keep going.”
He hesitated but then continued, turning so he faced her, his eyes locked on hers. His gaze fell when she pushed off the counter and her hands went to the side of her dress, pulling the zipper down. Stepping out of it, she stood before him in her matching bra and panties. Yellow was fast becoming his new favorite color.
Her underwear didn’t stay on long at all. The moment the dainty yellow fabric hit the ground, she followed, kneeling before him. When her hands made contact with his thighs, a shiver shook his body hard. Running her fingers upward, she gave his hand a break. Fresh off the bench, she worked his cock into submission and when that mouth touched the tip, sucking it further in, he was gone for.
“Lizzie,” he moaned, grasping her beautiful red hair in his fists. “You’re gonna yank this orgasm right outta me.”
“Let me,” she answered, her lips resting on his stomach, not stopping her hand while she spoke.
That did it. A guttural moan tore through him as he came all over her chest.
Her satisfied grin had him tipping her face up. “What’s up with your mouth there?” he asked, tracing her lips.
She kissed the inside of his wrist. “I’ve been thinking about that since you sent me that picture.”
“Well, I’m glad I could help you out with that,” he said, pulling her to a standing position. Reaching over for the soap, he squirted some in his hands and set about cleaning his dirty girl, and when he was done, she returned the favor, paying extra attention to his dick. By then, it jutted out against her stomach, demanding even more attention.
“Aww, fuck, woman, I missed you so damn much,” he said before claiming her mouth in a quick kiss.
She regarded him with a smile that captivated him . . . hypnotized him. “Why don’t you come to bed and show me just how much you missed me?” she suggested as she grabbed a towel and walked out of the bathroom, wrapping herself in it along the way.
Turning off the shower, he set off to do just that.
Marc
March 2, 2008
He could have watched this show from the stage, but it was a whole different experience—and not one he wanted. Marc wanted front row and thanks to his brother, in about ten minutes that’d be what he got.
Last Star back in Chicago.
This hometown crowd was already insane. All three shows sold out. Marc hadn’t been able to make it to them because of work, nor had he’d seen any of the band except for his brother.
Clark hadn’t even gone home when the band arrived in Chicago; he’d gone straight to Marc’s. The two of them ate a meal and then Marc just listened to his younger brother talk about the tour. Some of it he’d heard in texts and emails but it sounded so much cooler coming straight from Clark.
Marc hadn’t made it out on tour this time around. His time off had been used for the many vacations he and Lizzie had taken together.
He frowned because he’d hoped Lizzie would’ve been able to make this show with him, but she’d left yesterday for a short work trip. Marc had wanted her to see his friends perform for the hometown crowds and actually meet them all. The only one she’d met so far was his brother. This past Christmas, they’d met up with Clark before he traveled to South America and they went to Turks and Caicos, ringing in the New Year on the soft, white sands.
His relationship with Lizzie was so far beyond his expectations he didn’t know what to think anymore. Marc just knew he had it really good.
They were Marc and Lizzi
e. A couple. When friends mentioned one, they mentioned the other. He and Lizzie were a unit and everyone knew it.
Marc loved that. He never thought he’d love being in a relationship so much. But love it he did. Just like he loved Lizzie. The only thing he wasn’t so keen on was her work schedule because he missed her . . . among other things. When she was gone, it was hard to keep the bad shit from clouding his mind. Those visions of his father’s dead body that he’d spent much of his life pushing away with drugs, somehow found their way to him while his girl was gone. And his battle to not call up his old dealer grew harder and harder.
When the lights switched off, the crowed muted for a moment and as they realized what was happening, the excited murmurs began. When Mia popped up from the floor of the stage, the fans went fucking wild—jumping up and down, screaming as loud as they could.
It was so easy to get caught up in it. And he did.
He knew their performances so well having seen so many of their shows. Around a quarter of the way through, Marc noticed that Mia was acting a little off. What was happening in her personal life was really starting to affect her performances. That same personal life had been all over the news lately. Marc first heard about it while he stood in line at the grocery store one day. Tabloid stories of troubles in Mia and Ethan’s relationship—that they’d each been spotted with different people—filled the grocery mag racks. Marc asked his brother about it and all Clark had said was that Mia and Ethan were on a break. That’s all Clark knew because Mia hadn’t really shared anything with them and had pretty much kept to herself.
The band was concerned about her, though her last few shows had been better . . . but as Marc watched her, he saw the difference. A cloud hung over Mia. Her shoulders were slumped, her movements slower, hesitant, her smiles strained.
His friend looked like she was doing whatever she could not to cry, not to breakdown on stage. Marc was surprised she hadn’t. It was bound to happen soon.
Weeks she’d been holding this in, self-medicating herself, if what his brother said was true. Clark hadn’t actually seen her use any drugs but he’d noticed the differences in her behavior. Sad to happy back to sad. Unfortunately, Clark knew that emotional drug cycle from Marc.
Losing You (Stars On Fire #4) Page 7