by L. B. Dunbar
“God, I want you,” I tell her, unable to contain my thoughts half as well as I’m trying to contain my body.
“Gage,” she hisses, sliding her hand over her belly. If her fingers join mine, I’m going to lose it in my shorts. When her fingers crest over mine, finding her clit to participate in the attention I’m giving her, I do lose my mind. My hips buck, and my dick weeps. I nearly cry, wanting inside her so badly. When she comes, resting over me, I want to be the one to scream.
Within seconds, she pushes at my wrist, removing my fingers and sits up to straddle my lower abdomen. She weighs nearly nothing despite her pregnancy, and when her soaked center hits the hairs below my belly button, I hiss. Both my hands press up her spine while her hands work at my shorts, tugging at the lace closure and then pushing them down my hips.
“We can’t,” I say halfheartedly. I want nothing more than this girl. Nothing more than to slip inside her. Nothing more than her to reverse cowboy me, but I promised myself. “Ivy,” I warn, and then she slips back. Her wet pussy coats my stomach as her ass comes closer and closer to my face, and her upper body lowers. She wraps a hand around me, and I come out of my skin.
Sounds struggle to come from my throat. She strokes me. Once. Twice. And then the tip of her tongue hits the tip of me, and I tug her hips toward my face. Her mouth draws me in, taking me deep on the first suck, and I lift my head and lick up her seam.
Holy fuck. I can’t believe the position we are in, but I want this. I want her. Her mouth moves, her cheeks hollowing to deepen the suction, and my tongue works over her slick folds.
“Sweet Lord.” She hums over my thick shaft, popping off the head and then forcing me to the back of her throat. I reward her with the flat of my tongue, splitting her open and sucking on her swollen skin. Her hips wiggle, and my fingers dig into her thighs. She continues to work my dick with serious suction until I feel the tightening in my lower back and balls.
“Ivy,” I groan, pulling back from her and slipping a finger into her depths. My dick wants in this entrance, wants to fill her, and it’s jealous of my finger until she swallows over me, and then I can’t hold back. She’s drooling over me, and it’s dripping down my balls. She cups them, and I explode. My hips thrust up, and I know I’ve pressed too hard, but my body took over. Ivy doesn’t pull back, though, continuing to swallow every drop until I can’t take her mouth anymore.
I remove my finger and return my mouth to her, my tongue on a mission.
“I’ve never…” She gasps. “It feels so good.” I squeeze her ass cheeks, spreading them wide while my mouth savors her until her hips clench, and she stills. She hisses, giving my hip a nip to hold off the scream. I lap and lick until she whimpers, “No more.” Then I return the favor and nip at her inner thigh.
She squeaks as she flips her leg over my head and rolls to her side, the length of her body pressed against my side. Her eyes follow my withering length, and then her fingers tickle up the trail of hair.
“I’ve never done anything like that,” she says, coy-ish pleasure filling her voice. Her fingers travel higher, and she circles one of my nipples. My stomach muscles flinch.
“I’ve never done anything like that,” I tell her, astonished but also thrilled. “That was hot as hell.”
“Was I okay?” she asks, and the vulnerability in her voice nearly breaks me. I slide a hand up her thigh to her hip.
“You’re heaven, gorgeous.” The smile that follows my comment is better than sunshine.
+ + +
Over the next couple of days, Ivy and I share more moments just as hot and adventurous. I assure her each step of the way how amazing she is, and I work to convince her she’s special to me, but as the end date of my stay looms closer, I don’t know how we’ll carry on once we leave Hawaii.
“Dude, there’s a concert at the Bent Palm Tree. The Nights. We have to go.” Petty hits my thigh while we sit on the rooftop patio one late afternoon. I’m lazy as Ivy and I just had another romp in her room. She’s napping, and though I wanted to stay and hold her, I’m turning into a wuss around her, so I came to hang with the guys.
“The Nights. I haven’t seen them in years.”
“Perkins is my boy,” Petty states as if he knows the drummer personally. The Nights are lightyears ahead of us and about five years older than we are. The difference might seem juvenile, but it means everything in this business.
“I’m more interested in getting a gig at the Bent Palm Tree. Could you imagine?”
“Good to know you still have dreams,” Tommy mutters behind me, and I spin on the loveseat to face him.
“My dreams are stronger than ever, old man.” I shouldn’t be insulting him. I’m his guest as are the other guys, but Tommy and I have kept our distance the past few days. I’m not giving up his niece or my dreams, and I’m a little sour about giving up his friendship. Not only could we use him, but also, I like him. He takes my shit but gives back just as much.
“Huh.” He snorts as he crosses his arms. He’s wearing a black T-shirt with dark jeans, and I’ve decided this must be his uniform. He looks like a bouncer or a biker. Either way, he can be scary looking without meaning to be.
“Can you pull any strings for that concert?” Jared asks, strumming his guitar. We’ve been spending some quality time working on the original songs Ivy sparked in me. Jared’s more poetic then I am, so he’s polishing them up, and I’m excited to get back to a studio. The thought pinches my gut as I remember Ivy will be heading to Seattle while we live in a cramped flat outside LA.
“Good thing I like you fuckers.” Tommy slips his hand into his back pocket and holds out a set of tickets. Petty jumps over the back of the loveseat and wraps his arms around Tommy, hugging him while jumping up and down like a schoolgirl who just won a Bieber ticket. Tommy pushes at Petty, and Petty laughs as he snags a ticket from the hand. “Don’t ever do that again,” Tommy warns, but I see the hint of a smile. He’s pleased he surprised us, and even happy with Petty’s reaction. He likes to do things for others, I note, and I almost feel bad about the things I do to his niece. Almost.
+ + +
The concert setup is amazing. A medium-sized venue with a large, standing room-only space. A section near the back is roped off with two tall tables for our crew. I don’t know who Tommy knew to get us in, but that is the point. Tommy could open doors for us we couldn’t open on our own. I want us to rise on merit, but I also recognize it is who you know that moves you along the road. I still want Tommy’s help, but I wanted his niece more, and she wasn’t a bargaining chip.
“Can you imagine playing this venue someday?” Jared shouts over the pre-concert music. He’d love for us to only play these types of places, keeping the crowd intimate, but he knows if we grow, if we want to be bigger, we’ll eventually have to play larger places.
“The chicks.” Petty sighs, and I laugh. He has a one-track mind, but as my fingers twitch to pull Ivy close to me, I find my thoughts have one path as well. Ivy and I have agreed to keep it cool in front of her uncle although he knows we’re spending a ton of time together. He’s gone up to the stage door to talk to whomever gave him the tickets, and his absence buys me a stolen kiss.
When the performance begins without an opening act, the crowd roars, and the energy of the Bent Palm Tree takes on a new life. I pull Ivy against my front, wrapping an arm around her waist, and sing a private concert in her ear. I don’t perform cover songs, but it doesn’t mean I won’t sing along with a favorite. Ivy sways against me, rubbing her fine ass against the front of my jeans. Damn, my body responds so quickly to her.
She spins in my arms. “Take me somewhere before my uncle comes back.” While I’d like nothing more than to whisk her away, I don’t want to miss out on a chance introduction to someone affiliated with the Nights or maybe even the band themselves.
“Not yet,” I tease, kissing under her ear and turning her back around. She spins just as quickly to face me.
“You’re always put
ting me off,” she says, wide eyes staring at me. They’re glassy and intense, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was drinking. She sipped some wine before we left for the concert but didn’t even finish half a glass. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you don’t really want to be with me.”
What the hell? I stare back at her. “Are you crazy?” I snap. Her fingers fist into balls at her sides, and her eyes narrow.
“Never call a pregnant woman crazy, Gage.” Her comment drips with anger, and I’m growing irritated myself.
“Then don’t act like a crazy person,” I shout, the music taking a dip and the words coming out extra loud. Petty singsongs, “Uh-oh,” like a middle schooler, and Jared chokes on a sip of his beer. Ivy huffs, and I swear smoke is going to come out her ears at any moment. “Of course, I want you.”
In fact, I want her so much, I’m losing my resolve. Every time her mouth hits mine or another body part, I want to give in to her, but I won’t. Not yet.
“Then I don’t understand why you won’t take me.”
I can’t believe she wants to have this conversation here, now, during this concert of all places, but I’m getting pissed off.
“Because I’m not having sex with you until you marry me.” The music selects that moment to drop again, and the silence surrounding our table is louder than the crowd.
“What?” Jared asks.
“Dude,” Petty hisses.
Ivy just stares at me, wide-eyed with shock. “You can’t be serious.”
“Dead,” I say, realizing too late it’s a poor word choice. Ivy blinks once, blinks again, and then spins on her heels, pushing her way through the crowd. I don’t follow. I need a moment. The look on her face at my admission was pure horror and fright. As if marrying me would be the last thing she’d ever consider.
“Dude, you haven’t tapped that?” Petty asks in surprise.
“Shut the fuck up,” I bark, reaching for his beer and downing it. I don’t have time to order another drink as I already finished mine.
“Gage, you should go after her. She shouldn’t be jostled in this crowd.” Fuck. Jared’s right. Why does he always have to be the responsible one? I press off the table and shove my way through the people. With all eyes on the stage, the fans aren’t too happy with someone they think is stage-rushing, and since Ivy’s short, it’s as if she disappeared.
When I find a backstage entrance near stage left, Tommy stands just inside the hall talking to a man in his early thirties with pretty boy blond hair and a mischievous smile.
“Kaye, this is Gage,” Tommy introduces, and I reach out to shake the hand of a man who says, “Hey. Manager of the Nights. Lawson here was just telling me all about you guys.” I pump his hand once, surprised at Tommy’s kind gesture.
“Tommy,” Tommy corrects.
“Right. Forgot.” Kaye looks sheepish as he swipes his fingers through his hair. He looks more like a boy band member than a rock band manager. “So you wanna hop up on stage?”
Is he kidding me? Play with the Nights? Is this a dream? Then I remember Ivy. “I’d love it, but hey, have you seen Ivy?” I address Tommy. “I think she came back this way.”
“Yeah, bathroom backstage.” Tommy motions with his head but doesn’t move, and I’m not fast enough to come up with an excuse to get back to her.
“So the guys break in twenty. Let me see what Arturo thinks. I bet he’d love to have you join him for one run.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Sing with Arturo King? “I’m such a fan,” I say, sounding like the fan girls when they approach us.
“Okay,” Kaye says, his smile growing as he claps me on the shoulder. “Hang right here.” Kaye walks away, and I glance over at Tommy.
“Holy shit. Did that really happen?”
“It did, kid. Now you want to explain why my niece came backing here, looking hell-bent on setting something on fire?”
I twist my lips, uncertain how to explain myself. Should I just blurt out I want to marry her like I did to her? Thankfully, Tommy doesn’t make me answer as he nods down the hall. “Last door before the curve.”
I pat his shoulder as I pass him, closing the short distance at a slight jog. I’m amped from fighting with her and then the offer from Kaye. I bang on the thin door.
“Occupied,” she calls out.
“Open up,” I demand. I wait a second. And then another second. I’m weighing my options of kicking in the door, hurting her, and losing my chances at singing with Arturo when the door opens. Her face looks ashen, but she hasn’t been crying. I press the door forward, ushering her backward. There isn’t much space in the one toilet, one sink room. I close the door at my back and lock it. Ivy and I stand on opposite sides of the small room. Her eyes lower.
“First things first,” I say. I take one step forward, closing all space between us, and cover her slim shoulders with my hands. “I want you. All of you,” I emphasize, roaming my sight down her body to settle on her belly. It’s still hidden under another dress, but the bump is there. I spin her to face the sink, and she steadies herself by gripping the porcelain. I cup her throat, forcing her head up to look at me through the reflection in the mirror.
“All of you,” I repeat. Not just sex. Not just stolen moments, but every minute of every day and night. Ivy consumes my thoughts, and I don’t want to let her go.
My thumb strokes up her throat, curving under her chin until she tips it higher and then lays her head back on my shoulder. Her eyes remain on mine, no longer horrified but still frightened. She doesn’t believe what I said—I’ll marry her—and I tell myself I have time. I’ll prove myself to her. Right now, I know the only way to get us back to us is this...family always says they’re sorry.
“I’m sorry I called you crazy.” I nip her neck hard, and she whimpers. Her knees buckle, and she grips the sink with more effort. I pull back and meet her eyes in the mirror.
“I was acting crazy. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She closes her eyes, and I skim my nose down her neck. She whispers, “I’m sorry.”
My hand travels from her upper arm, which I’d been holding, to her belly, and then I curl it around her hip. I scrunch up her dress until I can get under the skirt. She purrs as if she knows where I’m headed.
“I want you,” I murmur under her ear and lick the side of her neck. I find her thong wet and slip a finger under the damp fabric. Pressing upward, I’m met with a deep exhale when I invade her. Her ass presses back, and she finds I’m already hard.
“Feel what you do to me, Ivy.” I bite her neck again. “You make me crazy.” I look up to see a twinkle in her eye as she chews the corner of her lip. She likes that she makes me unstable, and the responding grin she gives me in the mirror is a game changer. I pull my fingers back from her entrance and hastily unbuckle my belt. The loud click of metal and the sharp zipper descending fills the small space. I lift her dress over her back, exposing two smooth fine globes. With fingers returning to her wet core, I hold myself against her curvy backside. I slip myself though the seam and then drag down to her drenched entrance.
She instantly coats my tip, and a frantic ripple rushes through my body. I’m so close to slipping inside her. A little shift, a bend of the knees, and I’d bury myself in her. Then I find her eyes in the mirror. Distant. Shut down. This isn’t what she wants. It shouldn’t be here in a backstage bathroom. This isn’t how I want to first take her.
I pull back, dragging myself away from her promised land. My dick nearly weeps, cursing me, but I pull forth every bit of strength I can muster. And when her eyes shift, turning questioning, I explain.
“Not until we’re married.” It’s almost a threat, as if I’m warning myself. I won’t take advantage of her without a ring on her finger and a promise of forever.
“I can’t marry you,” she replies quickly. I’m not at hurt as her first rejection, and I chuckle.
“You can.”
“This is not your kid,” she stresses, some
thing painful in her voice.
“She will be,” I state. “All of you,” I remind her, placing my palm flat on her belly. My pants still dangle open, but her dress has slipped down her backside, covering her.
“What about my uncle?” She knows the deal I tried to make with the devil.
“I’ll find another way. Another manager.”
“I don’t want you giving up your dreams.” She turns to face me, hands coming to my chest.
“I’m not giving up a dream, just adding to it.”
Ivy slowly licks her lower lip, still focusing on my T-shirt, plucking at the cotton. “I can’t ask this of you.”
“You didn’t ask.” I pause a moment. “I haven’t even asked,” I say a little surprised at myself. I need to plan this better. I need a ring. My heart races. Am I really doing this?
A rapid thump comes to the weak bathroom door.
“Gage?” Tommy’s sharp voice rings through the thin wood. I reach for my zipper and hastily buckle my belt.
“Coming,” I snap and then chuckle when my eyes meet Ivy. Well, not exactly, but I wish. I wish I had slipped inside her, and my seed was what produced the baby growing in her. But I mean what I say. It won’t make a bit of difference to me. Her baby will be mine just as much as she will be.
18
IVY
Gage enters the stage to stand near Arturo King, and the crowd goes insane. Arturo leans over to say something to Gage, and then Gage searches the crowd until he finds me.
“You’re gorgeous,” he states. He focuses on me despite the bright lights in his eyes. I smile although he can’t see me. Perkins Vale taps his sticks, and they break into song. It’s the Nights’ tune “Last Look,” and then I realize Gage is mashing in his own song “Believe in Me.” The already amped audience goes wild as the two powerhouse voices merge their sounds together. When the song ends, Gage steps forward, and Arturo plays acoustic while Gage breaks into Howie Day’s “Collide,” and I can’t breathe. It’s one of my favorites about a guy and girl who are opposites but still make it work. They collide.