by Amity Cross
West's eyes darkened as his control snapped and he yanked off his T-shirt and dropped his jeans and boxers. With a guttural growl, he pushed me back onto the couch, pressing the underside of his cock hard into my clit. I cried out at the contact, arching my back and pressing my breasts into his chest. His mouth locked onto a hard nipple and began to bite and suck through the lace of my bra, a hand tugging the material down over the other so he could plump it in his greedy hands.
He felt this too, this uncontrollable need. I hadn't intended on coming in here and fucking him, but how could I not? I dug my fingernails into his shoulders, holding on for fucking life and death as he found my clit and began circling, pushing my knickers to the side.
"Wildcat," he moaned against my breast. "So wet. So ready."
I spread my legs open further, granting him full access and he slipped a finger deep inside me, rubbing my throbbing walls. As he worked on my pussy with his fingers, I reached behind me and unclasped my bra, tugging it off and casting it aside, needing to feel him against my skin. I raked my claws over his back and down over his ass. Then he made short work of my knickers.
West sat up on his knees and spread my legs open with an appreciative moan and I took in his hard cock with my hungry gaze. I could see how much he wanted to let go and take me and how much it took for him to hold back. But I wanted the same thing, no matter the fucking consequence.
"Fuck me, West," I said, point blank. Grabbing my knees, he tugged me toward him down the couch, my ass on his thighs and he pressed the head of his cock just inside me. "Don't hold back."
He lowered his gaze to mine and without warning, his hands were on my ass and he was thrusting deep. Crying out at the sudden invasion, I arched my back off the couch. Holy fucking hell.
Then he was pushing me back down, his body over mine, his hands spreading me wide and he began fucking me hard and fast. Our skin slapped together and the room filled with the heady scent of sex, our moans and gasps the only sound that meant anything. He pounded against my clit, his cock striking deep, deeper than he'd ever gone before and delicious pain bloomed through my skin.
"Wildcat," he kept grunting between thrusts.
I felt my orgasm building so fucking fast that it took me by surprise. I began to come apart under his onslaught, my pussy convulsing around his dick that was still pumping in and out at a relentless pace. I didn't know what I was saying to him, but as my muscles milked his cock, I felt him begin to spurt hot and hard inside me, triggering my orgasm to heights I'd never been to before. I didn't want to go back. I didn't want to come down.
But that's the thing about gravity. Just when you least expect it, you come crashing back to earth and how hard you land is up to the terrain. And our terrain was rocky and arid. Guess I was fucked then. Literally and metaphorically.
West had collapsed on top of me at some point, our chests heaving with exertion, his cock still firmly inside my pussy. What happened now?
"You can't leave me again, B," he whispered, trailing his fingertips over my tight nipples. "I'll do whatever it takes to make you trust me again. I can't go on without you. I love you so fucking much."
My throat constricted, but I got the words out anyway. "I hate that I want you. I hate…You broke me, West. I thought I was broken already, but you smashed me to bits."
Hurt flashed through his chocolate eyes, but I couldn't look away. He consumed everything and it was all I could do not to let myself drown in him. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, B."
"I know," I whispered, my eyes misting with all the tears I'd never cried over him. They'd threatened for days, but I still hadn't shed more than that single one that had slipped out when I'd watched his video.
He sensed my pain and rose a shaky hand to cup my face and soothe it away.
"It's too soon," I said, casting my gaze away.
"You need time?"
I pushed him off me and began pulling my clothes on, steeling myself for the walk of shame I was about to do through the emptying venue. I was positive everyone knew what we'd just done. I sure wasn't quiet about it and I felt my face heating with embarrassment. That was a fucking first.
"I don't know," I answered him.
"I'll be here, wildcat. Forever."
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could erase the words he'd just said. Without lifting my head, I opened the door and fled.
I'd almost reached sweet, sweet freedom when I heard Sasha calling my name. Closing my eyes in frustration, I came to a halt, the last of the concert goers filtering past me and out onto the street. I wasn't sure if I should turn around and I wondered why I'd stopped to begin with. Flight was my MO. Had I changed that much?
"Blair?"
Glancing over my shoulder, I saw her jogging toward me and realized she must have been chasing me ever since I left the backstage area.
"Save it," I muttered, rolling my eyes. Too much. Tonight had been an overload and if I didn't get out of here, I'd spontaneously combust.
"I don't know what just happened, it's none of my business, but I like you, Blair. I also like West. I've known him quite a few years-"
"Then you might understand why I need to get out of here," I interrupted, not feeling strong enough for whatever pep talk she'd been saving for me. "He's...full on."
Sasha covered her mouth with a dainty hand, like she was self conscious about her smile, and laughed. "I can see why you think that."
"I don't think it, I know it."
She waved at the security on the door to wait a moment and turned back to me. "Is it too much to ask for your number? Just in case?"
I folded my arms around my stomach and glanced back at the doors and the night beyond. The venue was empty apart from staff and security and it felt strange standing here having a convo about West's intensity levels. If I didn't go now, I'd have to endure the night bus, or that's what I was telling myself.
Sighing, I got it all out so I could just go the fuck home. "I know you're all like go Team West, but for once is it too much to ask for someone to be on Team fucking Blair? I just need a fucking break, you know."
Grimacing, Affliction's tiny punk rock manager cocked her head to the side, but didn't reply.
"You're all worried about what he wants and no one has stopped to ask me what I want. It's like you're all resigned to the fact that it's only a matter of time before I give in."
"It's not about giving in," Sasha exclaimed, suddenly panicked. "It's about truth."
Suddenly, I felt sick. What the fuck had he been telling her? "What did you just say to me?"
She bit her bottom lip, sensing she'd said too much. "Would you give me your number? If anything happens, you know with pressure from the press and stuff...It'd be good to be in contact."
I bit my bottom lip and thought about it. It was a burner phone. A cheap ass pre-paid that I could toss in the trash. I could always get another one if things got too heavy. "Don't make me regret this," I snapped, pulling it out, "because it'll be the last thing you ever do."
Sasha looked up at me with a genuine smile and said, "I won't."
By the time I dragged my clothes on and burst out into the hall, Blair had gone. She'd disappeared into the ether like a fucking ghost and the only reason I knew that what had just happened was real, was that I still felt her around me. The scent of her perfume and sex clung to my skin and I inhaled her with every breath I took.
"What did she say?"
I glanced up to find Joe standing beside me, a look of concern etched into his face. I crumbled back into the brick wall and winced as my thick skull bashed against it.
"Not good?"
"I don't know."
He looked me over and rose an eyebrow. "Pants are undone, mate."
"Shit," I hissed and did up my fly, the dead giveaway as to what we just did in that room now out in the open.
"You fucked her, didn't you?"
"She asked me to," I spat, pushing off the wall and facing Joe head on. How could've I turned her do
wn, even if I was in my right mind?
He held his hands out like he was trying to calm a wild animal. "Settle down, Jake. Fuck."
"I think…I think I pushed her too far. The song, the gig-" My entire body still hummed in the afterglow of the incredible sex I'd just had with Blair. Her claw marks all over my back, her scent, her taste, the heady feeling of her pussy clenching around my cock. Fuck. She wanted it, I wanted it, it felt fucking incredible, but was it the right thing to do? I couldn't exactly take it back. She's still running.
"Fuck no," my oldest buddy exclaimed and gave me a hearty slap on the shoulder. "I know her well enough to know that nothing else would've worked. Go hard or go home, Jake. With Blair, you've gotta go as hard as you can. That's the only way she's gunna stop and take notice."
As hard as I can. All or nothing. I remembered my dummy spit when I'd seen the papers yesterday and then Josh's advice. A tell-all interview. I was fucking nuts. Talk about going hard.
The paparazzi had been camped out at the hotel ever since the story broke and no doubt they'd be camped out back of the Roundhouse. My little onstage display would be on the news and the internet by now. Jake West's epic downfall is all over the news and he's still trying to win back his girlfriend. An interview was the only way they'd leave me alone and the only way Blair would hear the truth amongst the lies. She wanted time, but I didn't have any left.
"Joe-" I began, but wasn't sure how he'd take it. If I bombed out, then Affliction's future would be in the shit. It was their lives as well as mine on the line.
"Spit it out, mate. With the shit we've been through, you don't have to hold back."
"I told Sasha to organize an interview."
Joe's eyebrows rose. "Go on."
"A journo, a camera and me. Nothing off limits."
"Shit. Are you sure?"
His concern was awesome and all, but I'd never been more serious in my life. "Positive."
He looked me over for a moment, like he was trying to decide if I was fucking crazy or not. Joe knew the truth - not the half-baked story that I'd told Blair, but the whole fucking shameful thing. When he'd made up his mind about my mental state, he nodded. "If you really believe it's the right thing to do."
"West!" We both looked up at the sound of Sasha's voice as she jogged down the hall toward us, her phone in hand. She came to a stop in front of us and crumbled against the opposite wall like she'd just ran a marathon. "I saw Blair leaving and I chased her."
"Why?" I asked thinly. My wildcat had run out of here like a bat outta hell and I wasn't sure anyone could catch her.
"I caught her before she left the venue."
"And?"
"I got her number," Sasha said, waving her phone at me. "Do you want me to text it to you?"
"Fuck, yes."
"I don't know what went down with you two, but she was shaken. She cares about you, I know she does. Don't give up."
"Your concern is warming my bad boy deadbeat heart, Sasha, but I don't intend on giving up."
"Then what's our next move?" She looked up at me expectantly and I wondered if this whole thing had really gone too far. Sasha was obviously invested in getting a happy ending and probably Affliction's fans, but was it too much for Blair? The night she'd let me fuck her bare in the shower our second night in London, she'd told me that she was afraid my life was too big for her. Was all of this swallowing her up? I couldn't help wondering if that was the reason she'd run tonight.
Shaking my head, I asked, "Where are we with the interview?"
Sasha grimaced, but pulled up something on her phone. "I've already got two interested networks and the BBC have just put their offer in."
"Good. Take whatever one will do it the fastest."
"Fuck, West," she said, letting out a nervous laugh. "They'd all do it right now if you want them to. They're fighting over you like whoa. It's epic. Never seen anything like it."
"Let me…Let me talk to Mick and Rob first. If they're down with it, then let's take the slot on the BBC."
"BBC? Are you sure, the others are offering a much better deal."
"I don't give a shit about a deal. BBC have a bigger reach. More eyeballs will get on this thing."
"I don't think we have to worry about eyeballs," Joe said, wryly.
"I'll text you once I've cleared it with the guys, then do it." I began to walk away down the hall, Joe on my heels, and called over my shoulder, "And text me Blair's number."
If I was doing this thing, then she had to be watching when it aired. Blair wanted trust, so I was giving it to her and the entire fucking world. The shit storm of my own creation would never go away unless I did something about it. I'd dug myself into this hole and it was about time I tunneled my way out.
I was either about to lose everything and everyone I ever cared about or I was about to get everything I ever wanted. Only time would tell if the gamble paid off.
My phone vibrated across the kitchen counter, the screen lighting up with a text message.
I was totally meant to be working in that shithole of a shop today, but had called in sick the moment I'd rolled out of bed. I felt nauseated. I felt repulsed that I'd lost control and threw myself at West. Repulsed at the fact that I let a man who'd hurt me so irreparably touch me like he had. I let his cock inside me, bare, without a thought about the fallout.
The Wildcat posters, the crap in the papers, the TV, it was all full of West, his epic apology and his love and I just couldn't face it. I was like a pressure cooker that was at max capacity and who knew when I was going to blow. It was like those disaster movies with their meteors and polar icecap reversals and alien invasions. It would probably result in an extinction level event that obliterated my heart and my ability to ever trust or love again.
I looked down at my bare arms and took in my extra pink skin. I'd scrubbed and scrubbed, but I still couldn't seem to get rid of him. I'd scrubbed so hard I thought I'd take my tattoos right off. I still felt his mouth over mine, his tongue licking at my nipples, his fingers circling my clit…his cock inside me, fucking me into oblivion. It was the most earth shattering orgasm I'd ever had in my entire life. I wished he'd literally fucked my brains out, because I'd rather not be thinking about anything at all.
I couldn't trust that he wouldn't do it again. That's what the problem was, wasn't it? The papers had hinted at suicide. Suicide? My Dark and Dangerous? He hadn't trusted me enough to tell me and that's the part that stung the most. Maybe he didn't want to hurt me after learning about my parents or maybe he was afraid I'd leave him because of what happened to them. That it was too much for me to handle being with someone who had wanted to take the same out as my father had. But maybe the press had made it all up.
He said he loved me, but love wasn't enough because he still hadn't come clean. If I hadn't of run out last night, would I have asked him? Would he have told me? I had no fucking clue. All I knew was that I was one huge mess. Confused, angry, disgusted…I was in agony and I didn't know what to do.
All I knew was that Jake West had fallen back into my life with a bang and turned everything on it's head just when I thought I was going to be able to get over it and go on living.
Picking up my phone, I looked at the message and sucked in a sharp breath.
Unknown Number - I'll never give up.
I figured it was West, so I put his number in the contacts and labeled him, CockStain. I didn't trust myself to answer when I was still so amped up from our desperate quickie. When it came to West's cock, all coherent thought flew out the fucking window.
The two idiots I shared this ass crack of a flat with were out at work or whatever they did on a Saturday, so I flicked on the tiny fossil of a television. Kicking my feet up on the counter, I cupped the mug of tea I'd made in my hands and blew on it. If I came at this mess with a clear mind, then maybe I could find a way to deal with it. The train to Paris was sounding more and more like a valid option.
There was a rerun of some old British sitcom on BBC,
so I let it play, sipping idly at my cuppa. From Paris, I could go to the south of France. Or the Eurostar trains went to Brussels in Belgium. From there I could go to Amsterdam and beyond. Germany. Eastern Europe. Prague. Europe had brilliant rail connections.
I was so caught up in my travel plans, I didn't realize what was playing on the ad break, not until I heard the words, Affliction, Jake West and tell-all interview. I sat up, my heart thrumming like I had heart failure and almost dropped my cup of tea.
I watched the ad unfold and couldn't believe my ears or my stupid as fuck eyes. A special, no holes barred, interview on television. No escapes, no excuses. He would be on the screen for everyone to see…his answers, his reactions. He wasn't just giving me the truth, he was giving it to the entire fucking world. Maybe he had changed or maybe he was just desperate. Desperation tended to bring out the crazy in people. What was his game?
My phone buzzed over the counter as another text message flashed on the screen.
CockStain - Sunday night. 8pm. BBC1.
Fuck.
I sat in my hotel room, watching as the film crew from the BBC set up their gear. Some woman reporter sat opposite, dressed in a slate grey pants suit, fiddling with her tablet. I'm sure she introduced herself to me at some point, but I was currently too amped up to give a shit.
I shielded my eyes as a huge overhead light was switched on, the heat of the thing beginning to burn away at my skin. As if I wasn't nervous enough without this thing looking like a police interrogation. All good cop, bad cop.
"Are you ready, Jake?"
I looked up at the interviewer and drew in a long breath before letting it out between my teeth in a low hiss. She cocked an eyebrow at me, probably wondering if I was about to chuck one of my famous bad boy temper tantrums. Sitting up straight in my chair, I nodded.
I knew the rest of the band, Josh and Sasha were waiting out in the hallway for me. Before I walked in, Joe had held me back and asked me one more time if I was sure this was what I wanted. I guess he was worried about me, they all were, but I'd made up my mind days ago. Time to be a fucking man and own up to my mistakes.