Rocked in Pieces

by Bayard, Clara

  The quiet blond sat down in the chair directly across from me and for a second I found myself flustered as his intent gaze locked onto me. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, voice low and smooth.

  I blinked a few times before I could answer. “Nothing, really. You can talk to the guys or to yourself.”

  “As long as we’ve been together, those are much the same thing,” he said drily.

  I laughed and felt a real smile stretching my face wide as I forgot all about Steven’s camera and the bumping of the bus along the road.

  “Thanks for helping me out,” I told Matthew. “I appreciate it.”

  “This isn’t exactly difficult.” He smiled. “Besides, I wanted to tell you something.”

  My stomach did a little flip that I chose to blame on the giant burger I’d eaten for lunch. “What?”

  Matthew leaned over towards me, his hair sliding down over one eye. “Don’t let the boys get to you. We’re all a mess of nerves and it’s not about this video shit. You do your job, we do ours. Okay?”

  I nodded. “Okay. And… thank you.”

  He shrugged again. “No big deal.”

  But to me it was a big deal. And even after I’d told him he could go back to his real seat, I felt grateful. It was only the first day, but that moment of kindness made me feel so much better. Like maybe this wasn’t an impossible task. Besides, if I could get the famously shy Matthew Daniels to speak to me, anything was possible.

  Four

  Once we got to the venue, the real work began. After conferring with Becca and Steven, I had thirty minutes for a brief group interview on the bus before we all headed inside for the band’s rehearsal. After that we’d go back to the hotel on our own to upload footage while they did whatever they did.

  I had a long list of questions, but wanted to be careful not to push too hard too soon. All the television shows and movies about interrogations said it was important to develop a good rapport with your subject before going in for the kill. Seemed like good advice for dealing with suspected murderers and prickly rock stars both.

  What impressed me, once we got started, was how professional the guys managed to be once the lights were on, the mics were hot and the camera was rolling. The general iciness I’d been feeling melted away as if by magic. Joe turned on his charm to eleven and had me almost blushing in seconds.

  “Joe, how excited are you guys to get this show going?”

  He grinned broadly. “Words can’t really express it, Ellie. While we all appreciate the time off, and needed it, we live for playing shows for our fans. It’s like breathing for us, so yeah, we can’t wait.”

  Everyone else nodded in agreement.

  “What about nerves? Are you guys too experienced to get pre-show jitters?”

  This time Dex chimed in. “I’m not. We still have two days and I’m already a nervous wreck.”

  “I’m not sure I believe that,” I told the gorgeous Brit.

  “I swear. Like Joe said, this is what we live for. So it’s a big deal. We want to put on the best show we can, every single time.”

  “Well, considering there are people already lined up to see you, I think your fans feel the same way.”

  I was starting to get into the groove now and began to relax. Of course, everything was surface and easy. I didn’t ask about pressure from their label, or how much money had been lost when they’d canceled half the tour dates. I didn’t bring up the tension between the members of the band that had boiled over into public arguments and reportedly – fist fights. And, of course, I didn’t mention Ryan’s name. Or the car accident that had left Matthew himself injured and their manager with a blood clot in his brain that eventually killed him.

  Of course, I wanted to ask about all of those things. Those were the details the public was clamoring for. Those were the reactions that would make HSTV the hottest thing on the internet. The information that would make my career. And I would ask them. I would get what I needed, eventually. But it wasn’t time yet. Hopefully going easy on them now would make them loosen up, come to trust me. And make them willing to share their real feelings.

  It was manipulative and kind of sneaky. And my job.

  I managed to get through most of my softball questions and felt pretty good about the footage we shot, and how comfortable the band seemed to get.

  But as soon as the camera was turned off, they all left without saying a word to me.

  Once we were alone, Steven stopped stowing his gear and shook his head. “I don’t think you’ll be getting added to anyone’s Christmas card list this year, El.”

  “Shut up.” He was right, of course. I’d have to be crazy to think I could win them over so easily. “Maybe I should bribe them. What do rich rock stars like to get as gifts?”

  He thought for a moment before answering. “Hookers and drugs. Fancy cars.”

  “Mm-hmm. Thanks, bro. Very helpful. I’ll just go put all of those on our expense account.”

  “Sweet. Get one of each for me too, okay?”

  “Why not.”

  We shared a laugh, breaking the last bit of tension I was feeling. Tomorrow was another day and another step forward. What I really needed was a good night’s sleep and some time to review some of the video. “Let’s get out of here,” I said, picking up my bag.

  Steven finished collecting what he needed and we headed out. There was a car waiting for us outside and the driver took us back to the hotel. On the way Steven used his phone to find a list of good dive bars in the area. I refused the offer to join him, looking forward to some quiet time alone.

  But after a couple of hours in my hotel room, I was feeling restless and unsettled, and unsure why. I’d sent everything we’d shot so far back to the office and exchanged a few emails with other members of the HSTV team. From their end everything was fine.

  I turned on the television and flipped channels for a bit, but couldn’t decide what to watch. Nothing captured my attention. I grabbed the hotel directory from the bedside table and read through the offered amenities. I noticed our concierge level room, whatever that meant, got me access to the gym twenty-four seven. While running on a treadmill to nowhere didn’t appeal to me, the indoor pool definitely did. There probably wouldn’t be anyone around and I had a swimsuit in my suitcase. Perfect. I could swim a few laps, relax and call it a day.

  I changed quickly and threw a robe over my suit, feeling better already. I’ve always loved swimming. From the overcrowded public pools I’d visit as a kid – depending on where I was staying, to the muddy lake I’d loved the one summer I got to go away to camp, I’d swim in anything.

  My keycard opened the entrance to the gym downstairs and I wandered through. It was weird to be in such an active place when it was empty. The televisions mounted above the equipment were on, but muted. The only sound I could hear was the low hum of the air conditioning, and the running motor of something I couldn’t see.

  I walked through the locker room to grab a towel and noticed a sign pointing to a sauna. Damn, I thought. This place has everything. Being surrounded by luxury was completely foreign to me, and I wanted to take advantage while I could. My next assignment for HSTV, assuming I got one, might be sitting in restaurant parking lots all day or digging through celebrity trash.

  Figuring a nice hot sauna might be just the thing for after my swim, I followed the signs to locate it. I found it, across the hall from the entrance to the pool. I was about to turn the other way when something made me want to peek inside. Whether it was instinct or random chance, I did look, and it’s not being melodramatic to say that what I saw changed everything.

  The hallway was dim, with only half the lights lit, so I had to step close to the sauna’s door to look through the small window in the center of the closed door. There was a sign with safety instructions and a clock on the wall.

  And through the window, inside the small wood-lined room – something shocking and amazing. Rather than the empty space I expected to see, there was
a man sitting alone, naked, on one of the wooden benches. And that man was Matthew.

  I was frozen in place, eyes locked on the scene in front of me. The small square of glass framed him perfectly. It would have been a fantastic shot for television. Pay-per-view cable, if that still existed.

  Matthew’s skin was flushed from head-to-toe, clearly evident since I could see every inch of him. His head was resting against the wall, his eyes closed, lips parted. Rivulets of sweat rolled over long, lean muscles, drawing my eye downward.

  Something low in my body ached as I let my gaze drift where it wanted to go. To the corded bulge of his forearm, the tight circle of his hand. And the thick, throbbing organ his fingers slid up and down on. His cock was long and beautiful, in a powerful way.

  I’d never seen a man pleasure himself in person before. Part of my brain considered it curious, how rough he was. But the rest was dedicated to a single overwhelming thought.

  I want that.

  A low sound escaped my lips, somewhere between a whimper and a moan. And then, even though it was unlikely that he’d heard me, he opened his eyes and looked straight at me for an instant, a hint of a smile on his face.

  I froze where I was, one hand flat against the door as if I could reach through and replace his hand with mine.

  Matthew’s eyelids fluttered a few times and the closed again as he sped up, squeezing and sliding over the column of firm flesh. The muscles in his stomach jumped with every motion. He shifted position a bit, angling his body to point his cock straight at the door. That couldn’t be another coincidence.

  My legs felt suddenly heavy and I leaned forward against the door to steady myself. Desire coursed through me like molten lava. Any thought of embarrassment was quickly crowded out of my mind as it filled with the sight before me.

  For the briefest moment I imagined letting my body do what it wanted. Opening the door and striding over to him without saying a word. Wrapping my own fingers around his cock, feeling the hot length of him. Sliding my hand over the tip, down the length, squeezing at the base. Gripping him, using the tiny change in expression and breath to learn what he liked. To tease him, slowly drawing out the pleasure, getting lost in the silence. Pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist and that it was just us and that hot little room. Just the jagged sound of him as he tried to hold on, to keep from exploding under my tender but firm attentions.

  But of course, I didn’t open the door. I didn’t go inside. I just watched. Saw his heavy balls draw up tight. Saw his hand slide up and jerk fast and hard just under the wide head of his cock.

  As my chest heaved and my nails dug into the door, he came. The eruption was sudden and strong and I thought I could hear his shout through the door.

  When he was done, leaning heavily against the bench, breathing hard, limbs lax, it broke the spell I was under. I blinked rapidly and stumbled away from the door, all thought of swimming forgotten. Somehow I made it back through the locker room and gym and over to the elevator. I sagged against the wall as I waited and nearly fell into the car before pushing the button for my floor.

  My heard was still thundering in my chest as I reached my room and made it inside.

  “Pervert,” I muttered to myself. “You’re a total pervert.” It was a total invasion of privacy, but so damn hot. My whole body was aching, screaming for release.

  I felt guilty for intruding, but the guilt just made me more excited. And what if he did see me. It certainly looked like he did. And he didn’t stop. If anything, he’d put on a better show.

  My heart jumped and my core clenched.

  I dropped the robe on a chair, peeled off the swimsuit and climbed into bed naked. The slide of the cool cotton against my bare skin made me moan. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this aroused, if I ever had. And all from a cloudy vision of a virtual stranger jerking off.

  My fingers found their way to my stomach and I caressed the swell of the belly I hated. Then they traveled down, over the soft thatch of hair and between my thighs. Parting my folds with one hand, I caressed the tender flesh inside with the other.

  With a soft groan I shut my eyes and called up the image of Matthew’s strong hands on his body. The way his muscles flexed with every pump on his thick cock.

  My index finger gathered the moisture pooling in me and spread it around. The sensation of my slick, hot skin, swollen with hunger, so sensitive, almost sent me over the edge. I teased my entrance, barely slipping inside before retreating. Gentle and so slow, I let myself luxuriate in the moment. I wasn’t thinking about how I looked or what sounds I was making. All that mattered was the pleasure I was coaxing from my flesh, spurred on by that same erotic scene, forever locked in my memory.

  I thought of that tiny sly smile Matthew had flashed. He saw me. He knew I was there. He wanted me to watch.

  I pressed hard on my clit and shoved a finger as deep inside me as possible, filling my brain with the possibility, the implication of what I’d seen. And with that, I exploded. Climaxing hard and deep, I bit my lip to keep from screaming. As the waves of intensity crashed over me again and again until I floated away, only one word lingered. Matthew.

  Five

  The next morning I woke, mortified. What the hell had gotten into me? Watching him even though I knew he saw me. Then getting myself off like some kind of oversexed freak. The whole time I showered and got dressed I cursed myself.

  Thankfully, we were spending most of the away from the band. I knew I wouldn’t be able to look at Matthew without dying from embarrassment. In the few minutes we were together, it was fairly easy to stay out of his way. The band had a photo shoot for the collectable tour book, and we were shooting it, but with strict instructions to stay out of the way. So I got to watch from afar, which served me just fine. And, as if I hadn’t learned my lesson before, I watched him intently. While the others were primping or restless or grumbling, he seemed calm and at ease. Through waiting for makeup and lights to standing in the middle of the ridiculous set while the photographer snapped pictures of the group in different combinations and positions, he followed directions and never complained or even looked annoyed. Until one moment when he was supposed to jump off a low rung of a ladder for whatever “artistic” reason. After the second shot he grimaced and went over to whisper to the photographer. After that they abandoned the jumping and everyone got to keep their feet on the floor.

  When the shoot was over, Steve and I went back to the hotel. We called into the main office to see what was going on and got a pleasant surprise. The new site was running promos with the footage we’d shot already, and the public was going wild. Traffic was strong already and we got an email that even more fans were camping out at the stadium in advance of the concert tomorrow night.

  “We need to get over there,” I said, knowing it would be good video and keep my thoughts occupied. I wasn’t here for voyeurism and sexually fantasizing about a man who’d only spoken a few words to me.

  It didn’t matter how much I wanted to see him. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t get the picture of his face out of my head. It didn’t matter that I seemed to have unlocked something I’d thought hidden away inside me.

  It’s not like I’d been a nun before. I’d had a few boyfriends and one or two regrettable other experiences. But nothing like this. Hell, we hadn’t even been in the same room and it was one of the most erotic things I’d ever done.

  I made a point to focus on what needed to be done, but all day, in the back of my mind, I was still standing in that hallway. Still wishing the door would open and the wind would blow me inside. Still yearning.

  “Kid, what the fuck is going on with you?”

  “Huh?” I looked up and saw Steven staring at me. He shook the camera, reminding me we were supposed to be working. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted.”

  “No shit. Get your head in the game. You need to get all those guys to sign the releases, remember, before we talk to them.”

  “Right, of
course.” I pulled the folder out of my bag and headed over to the first group in the quickly filling-up parking lot. They were all wearing designer casual clothes, and I noticed a few purses and pairs of shoes that cost more than the camera Steven was holding.

  Don’t be a bunch of assholes, I pleaded silently.

  “Hey, guys,” I said, smiling. “I’m with Hot Sheet TV.”

  At first, they all just stared at me. I could feel the appraising looks at my face, hair and body. Then a few smiled and others maintained their poker faces. I hadn’t been rejected right away, but they weren’t dying to be my best friends, either.

  One of the girls, a leggy blonde, stepped forward. “Never heard of that.”

  “We’re new.”

  “And?”

  One of her friends, this one a tiny redhead, poked her in the side. “Jade, don’t be a dumbass. You know The Hot Sheet. This is their new site. The one following Dream Defiled. We watched those videos this morning.”

  The blonde frowned and then nodded. “Right. Whatever. What do you want?”

  “We’re interviewing fans for the site and if you guys want to be included, I just need you to sign some releases.”

  The redhead reached out a hand. “Hell yeah.”

  I laughed. “Anyone else?”

  Everyone but the blonde took a release. She just eyed me coolly.

  “Don’t you want to be in the video with your friends?”

  “I haven’t decided yet,” she replied.

  “Fair enough. Is there a question I can answer to help you decide?”

  “Maybe. How old are you?”

  “Me? What does that have to do with anything?”

  She cocked her hip. “Why won’t you just tell me?”