I left before him, like I had so many times before. I drove home, knowing that he’d follow me, thinking about all the stolen moment’s we’d shared over the years. The prospect of ending the arrangement sat heavily on my chest, but I pushed it away.
I stepped out of my car as Travis pulled up to the curb in his monstrous Chevy Silverado.
“Your chariot awaits you,” he called out of the open window. Shaking my head and biting my lip, I opened the door and climbed in, hoping none of my neighbours had chosen that moment to peer out of their windows. “Did you decide between the hotel and the lake?”
“Let’s go to the lake,” I answered. It had been a long time since I’d done anything reckless—almost a year, actually.
“Mine or yours?” Travis asked, referring to his place on Lake Rosseau and the Miller heritage property on Simmes Lake.
“Mine,” I replied without hesitation. With my brothers’ out of town, there’d be no chance of getting caught.
I buckled up and we took off, my hair whipping around my face.
We parked on the grass just before the sandy beach, with the cab facing the lake. Travis turned the engine off, and our eyes took a moment to adjust to the plunge in darkness. The moon was high in the sky and the night was silent save for the chirping of crickets and the occasional bullfrog. Fireflies glowed, spelling out their secret messages to one another.
“Well?” he asked, looking at me expectantly.
“Well what?”
“I believe you promised me skinny dipping,” he said, his kissable lips twitching.
“The lake is cold,” I retorted, arching a brow at him.
“I’ll keep you warm,” he challenged with a grin. He’d moved closer to me, his lips pressing against the side of my neck.
“I thought you just wanted sex and were trying to be creative about it.”
Travis pulled away to look at me. “Nope, I wanted sex and a swim—maybe at the same time,” he waggled his eyebrows playfully and nipped at my earlobe.
“You’re a fiend,” I laughed, rolling my eyes as I pushed him away. I pulled my hair back from my face, studying him through narrowed eyes. The man was actually pouting at me, putting on the puppy dog eye effect and everything. “Fine, I’ll swim.”
“Naked,” Travis clarified with a grin as he tugged at my shirt.
I opened the door, stepped outside, and shaking my head, I began to strip. I pushed my shorts down my thighs and stepped out of them, tossing them into the back seat. Travis opened his door and stepped out, his eyes never leaving me as I continued to peel off my layers.
He swallowed hard, his lips curving up in a smile that made my centre ache.
It had been almost a year of celibacy for me. It was a mixture of a self-imposed and circumstantial sentence. I didn’t need sex to survive, and I hadn’t met anybody I’d wanted to sleep with. It seemed an awful like I was waiting for him, but I wasn’t…or at least, I wasn’t pining for him. Travis understood my body and he was careful to toe the line I’d drawn. He didn’t push me for more than I was willing to give, so he was safe.
But, the way he was looking at me in that moment was anything but safe. I bit my lip, watching as he kicked off his jeans and boxers. His cock was hard, and he stroked it a few times, watching me with a smirk dancing across his lips. “I want to spread you out in the cab of my truck and lick you until you cum so hard you forget your name and beg for me to be inside of you.”
I pressed my thighs together, his words threatening to undo me. “You’ll have to catch me first,” I said decisively before sprinting toward the lake.
It was the end of June; the air was warm and sticky, and I ran as fast as I could, hoping to reach the water before Travis caught up to me. I had no such luck, and in three long strides he’d caught up. He threw me over his shoulder and ran straight into the lake.
Cold water splashed over my legs as he waded out until the water hit his collarbone. I let out a gasp before he dunked us both under the water and shot back up immediately. He held my ass as I slid down his body. I slapped his hard chest playfully, and he chuckled.
With the moonlight reflecting off the lake, it was easy to see his face—and the look of reverence in his hazel eyes.
I pushed my dripping locks out of my face, my breath catching in my lungs. Needing to break away from the heaviness in the air, I turned and dove back into the water. Kicking my legs out, I swam hard and fast toward the floating dock.
I grabbed the ladder at the same time Travis did. He grinned at me, barely out of breath, and moved closer. “Are you ready for the sex part yet?”
“More than ready,” I admitted, grinning. His arms gripped the sides of the ladder, caging me in.
He kissed me, his lips fitting against mine as if he’d done this on a daily basis, even though it’d be months since we last touched each other.
I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, kissing him back with greed that bubbled over from the cracks in my heart.
A moment later, I pulled away, drawing in a much needed breath. He let me go, moving his lips to pepper kisses along the side of my jaw.
“I’m cold,” I said, my teeth chattering less from the temperature, and more from anticipation. I needed him, I craved him. I could think of nothing else but him in that moment. Not tomorrow, not next month.
It was a poignant, all-consuming, and very confusing feeling.
Shivering and wet, we raced across the sandy beach to his truck. I threw open the passenger door and jumped in, rubbing my hands over my arms to try and warm up. He turned on the heat and then reached into the back seat to grab two towels. I took the one he offered me and dried off, using it to clean the sand off my feet last. I sat up, tucking my wet hair behind my ear, still shivering.
“Come here,” he said, his gruff voice breaking the silence that filled the cab. I moved closer to him, my heart pounding ceaselessly in my chest as he lifted me almost effortlessly onto his lap. His legs were so long that his seat had to be pushed back all the way, which meant I had no trouble fitting in the spot between him and the steering wheel.
I rolled my hips, my core brushing against the length of his hardness. Travis let out a deep groan. He caught my bottom lip with his teeth and tugged gently as his hands gripped my hips, bringing me against him again. His skin was hot, despite how cold the water had been just moments before.
He kept kissing me while he reached forward and popped open the glove box, searching through it blindly. He found what he was looking for and drew back, flashing the square foil packet at me with a wicked grin. “Always come prepared,” he remarked, rolling the condom over his thick, hard length. My heart clenched in momentary crushing disappointment, and before I could mull over the reason why I felt that way, his hands went to my hips again and he held me while he slowly eased inside.
I forgot who we were. I forgot where we were. I forgot every single thing except how he felt inside of me.
He pumped into me, hard and sure. I met him thrust for thrust, eager to take every last drip of pleasure he gave me. My orgasm hit hard, and I bit a little too hard on his bottom lip. He didn’t seem to care, he continued to drive into me a few more times before he found his release.
“Jesus, Becs,” he panted afterward, his eyes fixed on mine. The grin on his face eased the panic I felt in the moments after our joining, when the gentle touches and the long gazes would spark thoughts better left unspoken. “I’ve missed being in you.”
“That sounds dangerously like something a boyfriend would say,” I warned him, climbing off his lap. I twisted around, trying to reach my clothes in the back seat. I’d said it to remind him of my rules, but it also served as a reminder to myself.
“Or it sounds dangerously like something a dude would say right after sex,” Travis shot back, slapping my ass.
I turned my head to look at him, letting out an aggravated huff as my fist closed around my pile of clothes. Each beat of my heart hurt, and I couldn’t look at him while
I dressed. Once finished, I turned to face him. He was standing outside, slipping back into his jeans. “We’re going to have to stop this, you know,” I finally said.
Travis paused for a second. He didn’t meet my gaze as he straightened and buttoned his jeans. “Stop what?” he asked. He sounded casual, but the slight tick in his jaw suggested my words had upset him.
“Sleeping together,” I clarified.
“Why do we have to do that?” he asked, grinning at me as he leaned into the cab, his chest still gloriously bare. He reached for his t-shirt, pulling it on and obscuring my view of his six-pack.
“Because Brock’s getting married next month, and when you come back we’ll have to be around each other and everyone else. I don’t want anybody suspecting anything. We had our fun, but I think it’s time this arrangement ended.” Each word burned like acid on the way out, but it was necessary. In that moment, I knew I’d gotten more invested than I ever intended on getting.
“This arrangement,” Travis repeated, still smiling…only without the amusement. He nodded his head once, pursing his lips as he absorbed what I was saying.
“Yes.” I don’t know why, but it felt an awful lot like I was hurting him, and I didn’t like how knotted my stomach was over it.
“So you’re saying that you no longer want to have incredible sex with me, because your brother’s getting married and you don’t want anybody to find out that we’re having incredible sex?” he paraphrased, his brow raising in question. I nodded. “Would it really be all that bad if they found out?”
His question threw me completely off guard. My heart stuttered in my chest and I felt a rush of adrenaline, a desire to take flight from this situation that I couldn’t seem to stay in control of anymore.
“Yes!” I finally replied after overcoming my shock. I looked at him like he’d lost his ever loving marbles. “You really don’t think Brock would be pissed if he found out what we’ve been doing behind his back for the last four years?”
It wasn’t like our sleeping together had been a one-time thing, like I’d planned for in the beginning. That could have been easily forgiven, but we had met up many times. Every summer, and whenever else he came home and sought me out.
I worried about what that betrayal would do to Brock and Travis’s friendship. I couldn’t stand the idea of causing another rift between them.
Travis hesitated. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for something to say. He looked like he wanted to argue with me, but he knew that I was probably right about Brock.
“If that’s what you want,” he finally said. He climbed in, closed the door, and started the engine. He said nothing as he backed away from the beach and pulled out onto the private road.
We didn’t talk for the entire drive back to town. He pulled into my driveway, finally lifting his chin to look at me. “See you around, Becs,” he said, his eyes focusing straight ahead again. Dismissing me.
Even though it was for the best, watching him drive away burned.
Travis
July 2017
Recently, I had come to realize that the women I hooked up with only wanted me because I was rich and famous. Every single person in my life wanted something from me. More platinum albums, more chart topping hits, extravagant gifts and attention in magazine spreads.
But there were a few exceptions to this rule: my mom and my friends, the people I grew up with, the people who knew me and loved me before I was famous.
Her. Becky Miller.
She’d always been a part of my life for as long as I could remember. I’d always thought she was gorgeous, with her dark hair and the prettiest blue eyes that I’d ever seen. But Becky was off-limits. You weren’t supposed to screw your best friend’s little sister, especially not Becky. Becky was special, she’d been through hell and back.
She didn’t deserve to be someone’s secret, and I hated that she was mine for the last several years. I was determined to do it right this time, because Becky wasn’t the kind of girl you got over.
Before I got a taste of her, it used to be easy to forget about loneliness and isolation with the chaos of a tour and the high of performing on stage for thousands of people. It was easy to lose myself in the company of attractive, willing women, but then she sort of fell in my arms and messed me up.
Now, I felt disquieted.
I started feeling this way more and more over the last few years, and that feeling got worse when I was back in the Muskoka’s, back around the people I’d known forever…back around Becky. Nothing beat coming home, even if it was a painful reminder that my life was lacking substance: that it was lacking her.
I found myself heading to Parry Sound whenever I got the chance; even if it was just for a few days between shows. If I got to meet up with her at least once, it was worth the extra time spent traveling.
During our off time, I’d done my best to throw myself back into the casual fling pool. Truthfully? It hadn’t really worked out for me.
In fact, it was damn near pathetic. I hadn’t hooked up with anybody but her in three years. I kept that from her, because I’d worried if she found out she would flip. It was supposed to be just sex between us, and I was supposed to live my life the way I had before.
But one-night stands had lost their allure, and no other woman had since captured my attention the way that Becky had. Early on into our arrangement, I’d had a few one-night stands. After each of those hookups, I’d felt terrible, like I’d betrayed someone. Like I had betrayed her.
She wasn’t the kind of girl you played games with; she was the kind of girl you committed too. But she’d been hurt before…badly.
The irony was not lost on me that she was a lot like my mom. My mother had relationships—plenty of them, I’m sure. She was a gorgeous woman and she was only forty-four years old. But, like Becky, Mom had never let anybody get close enough. She’d never moved in with anyone, had never gotten engaged, and hadn’t even had a serious relationship.
Becky had opened my eyes to what was real and what was an illusion. The women who easily fell into my bed did so because I was famous and had money. None of them saw past that to the man I was beneath it all, and none of them cared to know him.
I played her game and followed her rules because I’d wanted to fill up on her wordless love, but there was no doubt about it; I was committed to her. She’d inspired every piece of music I’d written in the last four years, and I wanted to tell the world who my muse was. But Becky was cautious and I had to tread carefully, or I risked losing her completely.
I stopped the one-night stands, and every time we were together, what I felt for her grew. I thought it was the same for her, and I was working up the courage to tell her. But a few weeks ago, she told me she wanted the arrangement to end.
I met Tasha and Sandra on the plane, and they were “big fans of mine”. They were best friends that looked almost identical, and they certainly played off their similarities.
They had a one-night layover in Toronto, and kept talking about how awesome it would be to see the town I grew up in. So I thought, why the hell not?
If I could get a rise out of Becky, if I could make her jealous, then maybe I could make her see that we could have so much more than our arrangement. And if she didn’t care, at least I had two very willing women as a fallback.
But the unsettled, anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach hadn’t let up since the moment I walked in with Tasha, Sandra, and my bodyguards and saw the devastated look on her face.
I wanted to make Becky jealous, not hurt her, and I didn’t feel any better knowing that she cared, not with the wounded look in her eyes. In fact, I had a sneaking suspicion I’d fucked things up even more.
The jealousy trick might work on most women, but not her. I should have known better.
Still, I couldn’t take back what I’d done. I did my best to disentangle myself from them, sending them off to the bar for drinks the first chance I got. They seemed content enough being
the focal point of every male in the bar.
Every male but me. I was busy, surveying the bar, looking for the dark hair and blue eyes that tormented me in my dreams, the ones where I’d be moving toward her and she would just get further and further away with each step I took.
I didn’t see her at the table she’d been sitting at when I walked in, nor was she around the pool tables or bar. My shoulders relaxed. I hadn’t seen her leave, so she was probably hiding out in the bathroom.
Becky retreated when things got complicated. It was something she’d always done. Eventually, she’d have to come out, and I’d be waiting.
“And who are the Playboy bunnies?” the soon-to-be wife of my best friend asked, calling my attention back to her as she arched her pale eyebrow and frowned at me with disappointment. “If I recall, the invitations said plus guest, as in singular, not plus double penetration twins.”
I threw back my head and howled with laughter until tears formed in my eyes. Tossing my heavy arm around Tessa’s slender shoulders, I pulled her close to me. “This is why I love Tessa, because she’s hilarious and witty,” I said, grinning at Brock.
I really did love his fiancé; Tessa was a sweet girl with a whole lot of brains. She was heading to vet school in the fall. But probably the best part about Tessa was the fact that she made my best friend extremely happy, and kept him coming home on the regular.
“Unlike the two high-class call girls you brought home?” Tessa’s best friend, Elle, rolled her eyes. “What Travis, you can’t find girls with IQs in Hollywood? As if you had to bring more trash into this town.”
They weren’t wrong, the girls I’d walked in with where every bit as shallow and sultry as they looked. I hadn’t chosen their company for their great conversational skills, I’d brought them back to Parry Sound with me on a whim.
And I was already deeply, deeply regretting that whim.
“Easy, Elle,” Tessa said, interrupting before I could think of a single thing to say in response. “Play nice. We don’t know what their IQs are.”
Rebel Song: (Rebel Series Book 3) ((Rebel Series)) Page 9