“Oh, God.” She started moaning, then screaming, and Brad thought he was gonna blow. She was fucking crazy. Then she said, “God, I need you inside me.”
He stuck his tongue back in her mouth while fumbling in his back pocket for his wallet. He felt around for a condom, his hands meeting behind her back, and he found one, dropping the wallet to the floor. He got it on just in time, because she was tugging on the side of his jeans, pulling them down farther, and then when he had the condom on, she started digging her nails in his neck. He lifted her up and turned around so that her back was against the door, using the wall to hold her in place, and then he drove himself into her. She started moaning again, and he kept telling himself to hold off, hold off, don’t blow it yet.
She bit his shoulder—hard—and that was it. He couldn’t contain it anymore. He could feel it clear to his balls and it felt so fucking good. It was like his whole body was shoving itself through his cock and he was gonna die…but it was gonna be a good fucking death. He even heard himself groan. What the fuck? He’d never done that before. He figured that was what happened when he went way too long without the company of a woman.
He wasn’t going to let that happen again.
Yeah, he could take care of himself, had for years, but there was nothing like being inside a woman, especially a beautiful one who smelled like cinnamon and kept demanding him in between breaths to fuck her good.
Well, he felt like a complete asshole, but he had to ask. “You were able to finish, weren’t you?”
She giggled. “I was on my third one. I was plenty done, stud, but don’t think you are. We’re just taking a short break, and then I’m gonna ride the fuck out of you.” She grabbed his cock—holy shit, that was a shock to his system—and peeled the rubber off his dick.
He let out a chuckle. He didn’t think he had another one in him. “I think I need to rest a minute.” He tucked himself back in and zipped up. He turned around and got a good look around her apartment. It was small—smaller than his, even—and so it felt busy. The kitchen and living room were the same room, but the space was tiny. It didn’t feel cluttered or crowded, but it looked like it would take him hours to look at everything crammed in the place. It was neat too—just packed. There were floor to ceiling bookshelves all along one wall in the living room, and she had fabric draped on all the furniture, little knick knacks on all the shelves and books too. Candles, doilies, pictures—not an inch of space went unutilized. It felt like a mall at Christmas. He picked his wallet up off the floor and walked toward the chair. “Mind if I sit down?” He made a mental note that he needed to get a wallet chain. Not only were they bad ass, but it’d keep the damn wallet attached to his jeans in moments of weakness like the one he’d just experienced.
She shook her head. “Go ahead. Can I get you something to drink?”
Much as he’d love a beer right now, he didn’t dare. She didn’t want him staying the night, and a beer would ensure fatigue. It was so late anyway, but he was grateful for one thing—he felt better than he had in weeks. “I’d love a glass of water.”
He heard her giggle. “Oh, I like that. You took me seriously.”
He rested his head on the back of the chair and stretched his legs. “About what?”
“Well, you’re avoiding whiskey dick. I appreciate that.” Brad started laughing and he heard her pouring water from the tap into the glass. “You want ice?”
“Up to you.”
She walked over to the chair and handed him the water. Her jeans were still unzipped but she’d pulled them back up. God…he hadn’t even had a chance to touch her breasts. How the fuck had she managed to get him so worked up when an hour ago he’d been convinced he wanted nothing to do with her? Amazing.
She had a drink too, but hers looked a little stronger than water. She set it on the coffee table and then sat on the couch and opened a wooden box that rested on top of a square piece of red velvet. She pulled out a joint and lighter and was holding a flame to the spliff before he even realized what she was doing. God, that looked good, and she leaned over toward the chair, holding the joint toward him. “Honey, you want me to leave tonight, I don’t dare get high.”
She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She took another puff and then said, “Just tell me when you’re ready to go again.”
He chuckled again. Jesus, she was gonna eat him alive—and he liked the idea. She was crazy, good crazy, and he couldn’t believe he’d been trying to turn her down earlier. She was winding up being the best accidental thing that had happened to him in a long time.
But then, as she pinched off the end of the joint into the amber-colored ashtray next to the box and leaned her head against the back of the couch, he started wondering again what she was getting out of all this. He drew in another deep breath and hoped he could trust his instincts. This girl seemed harmless, though maybe a little lonely.
After another minute or two, she got up and turned on her stereo. She was playing some weird Middle Eastern music, something exotic, and then she walked around the apartment with her lighter. He hadn’t noticed all the candles in the busyness of the room until she lit them all up one by one—he’d seen a few, but he had no idea she’d had dozens. Then she turned off the light. She tossed the lighter onto the coffee table and stood in front of Brad’s chair, her hand extended. He took it and stood, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’m ready yet.”
She smiled. “I didn’t think so, but I want us to move to the bedroom anyway.”
He nodded and took her hand but didn’t use her to help him up. He stood and that was when he could tell she really had worn him out. Still…he wasn’t going to turn her down. As soon as he was ready, he was going to take her up on her offer for a second go.
He hadn’t even taken his jacket off yet, so he did and threw it on the chair, then followed her to her bedroom.
It too felt busy. The woman owned a lot of shit, but it felt exotic somehow, and everything, big or little, had a place. Maybe that was what was making Brad feel weird about it. There was no room for anything else, and each item in her house had to have a specific place, because there was no room for deviation. She just plain had a lot of stuff, but it was cool looking stuff. Her bed was the only place in the bedroom—aside from the floor—where it felt like there was room to move. “Why don’t you sit down?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Okay.”
“Better yet, lay down.”
He smiled. He liked the sound of that, so he leaned over and untied his boots. Then he lay back on the bed, several pillows propping him up. Most of them appeared to be for decoration, just like most of her house. They were comfortable, though. Jo said, “I wanted to see you looking at me like you mean it.”
“Mean what?”
“Well,” she said, starting to do a swaying pelvic thrust in rhythm to the music coming from the other room, “back at the club, you acted like you wanted to be anywhere but where you were. I’m not used to men looking at me that way. I prefer them looking at me like no other women exist, even if it’s only for a few minutes.”
He wanted to ask her if she was going to expect payment from him later, but she’d promised she wasn’t working. “I’m going to tell you something…Brad.” He tried not to smile. She’d almost forgotten his name. “I love my boyfriend, but he’s a domineering jerk sometimes. He’s not always tender and gentle when I need him to be. Problem is he’s my boss too. And I sometimes think maybe I’m not his only girlfriend, if you catch my drift.” He nodded. Maybe the two of them had a lot more in common than he’d suspected. “So I don’t want anything messy, but you are super cute and pretty damn hot, and I just need to forget my problems tonight. Got it?”
He nodded, now entranced. That had been the first time in a long time a girl had told him he was hot, so not only had she made him feel incredible, she was stroking his wounded ego too. She pulled the tank top over her head and swirled it a couple of times, then threw it to the floor in a flourish. She turned around,
facing her closet, and stuck her ass out at him, running her hands up and down over it, and he started feeling twinges in his cock again. Oh, fuck, yeah. She wanted to see his eyes filled with lust, she was gonna get it.
She turned around and peeled her jeans down one side and then the other, down to where the boots hit her thighs. Goddamn, he wished she could leave those on, but to take her jeans off, she was going to have to take the boots off too. She unzipped them, one at a time, and the way she did it was sensual. The look on her face, the way she moved her mouth and tongue and the little noises she made were making it seem like one of the most erotic things Brad had ever seen. It was like foreplay.
And then she slid the jeans off too. They’d been snug but she somehow made them fall off her like silk. She did some sexy dance moves around the tiny area in her bedroom and then stuck her ass toward him again. She was wearing a thong, so her gorgeous ass was in full view. She had a decorative tramp stamp just over the string on her lower back that said Bitch with swirls underneath it. She ran her thumbs under the strings and pulled them down, teasing, then back up to her hips. Then she turned around, moving up to her tiny bra, and as she started pulling the straps down, that’s when his cock came to full attention. The blood was pumping down there hard, engorging his cock and making him ready to fuck her again.
He knew she wasn’t disappointed in his response this time.
She pulled the bra off and he thought he was going to lose his mind. He had no idea if they were fake, but they were big and beautiful, and he thought his jaw was going to hit the floor as she touched herself. But she moved back down to the barely there panties and teased them off too.
She then danced her way closer to the bed. Her eyes were dark. She knew the power she had over him, and he could tell she was most definitely pleased at his response this time. She pranced over to him, grabbed his chin, and gave him a look. He wasn’t sure what she was thinking. “You like the boots, don’t you?”
He couldn’t contain his enthusiasm. “Hell, yeah.”
She turned back around, making sure he could appreciate her ass, and then she sat on the end of the bed, sliding the boots back on. She then turned and got on the bed on all fours. Jesus Christ, he thought he might come just looking at her. “You and me—we’re gonna get together again, stud, and I’m gonna be bossy, but tonight I just wanna make you forget about the bitch who broke your heart.”
She straddled him and he started to protest. “She’s not a bi—” But she covered his mouth with hers and he couldn’t talk. Instead, he thought he was going to be buried alive under her kiss, and he didn’t know how much more he could take. This woman was beautiful and she was his, even if for just a short time. And it dawned on him, as she began pulling at his jeans, that she had just made him a promise that they were going to have another night together. He wanted to make sure he’d survive this one first.
She pulled his cock out of his underwear and stroked him, eliciting another moan out of his mouth. Holy fuck, this woman. She giggled and then reached over to her nightstand, pulling out a condom. She had it unwrapped and on him in seconds, and he was glad, because that muted the feeling just enough that he thought he’d be able to enjoy the full gamut of sensations before he came this time.
She poised herself above his cock, those black boots stopping midway up her naked thighs. He could feel the rhythmic throbbing of his dick in time to his beating heart. Then she slid herself over him, and her pussy sucked him in. It was like she was continuing to dance, only this time with him inside her, and she threw her head back in ecstasy. When she looked back down on him, he placed his hands on her hips. He almost didn’t feel like he could touch her, because it felt almost like he wasn’t present, like he was watching it happen to someone else.
Oh, but no fuckin’ way, because he felt so goddamned incredible. She reached down and, with each of her hands, grabbed his off her hips and placed them on her breasts. As he touched her at her bidding, she let out a long sigh. “God, you’re so hot. I love your tattoos. They make you look so bad, so dangerous, and that’s why I want to fuck the shit out of you.” She slid her fingers down her stomach, another erotic move, and then touched herself until she moaned and started yelling like she was on fire. She was clenching against him, and that was when he couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes clamped closed as an explosion of pleasure washed over him. She continued grinding against him, prolonging it just a little longer, as her orgasm wound down too. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve this sex goddess, but he felt like tonight had become his lucky night.
Chapter Thirty-five
AS SUMMER DRIFTED into fall, Brad and his friends fell into a routine. His job was fairly regular, whereas Val’s schedule was all over the place, but her boss worked around the dates they played. They always had at least two shows a week, but sometimes as many as four, depending on what Brad had been able to book, and the merch table was starting to pay for itself as more and more people became fans.
Jo had sent him a couple of risqué texts since he’d seen her, but nothing else had happened between them. She was a great memory, and if he ever felt desperate again, he was going to go to her club. She’d helped him through a low spot, and, for that, he’d be forever grateful.
He was finally able to allow some distance between himself and Val, and he was able to think of her as just a good friend again. Jo was a huge part of that. He wasn’t happy about her relationship with Ethan, but that was only because Ethan was continuing to be a selfish asshole. If the guy would make Val a priority and treat her like an angel, Brad would bless the relationship.
He started worrying about her, though. He was afraid she was going to fall prey to Ethan’s bad habits.
He was waiting for the perfect opportunity to talk to her—alone. He wasn’t going to say anything when anyone else was around. She seemed to be fine, but she was thinner, and he knew, if she was doing something like meth, that it could do that. He could see her indulging, considering she had a lot on her plate. She was working a lot and she walked to and from her job. She could have taken the bus but said it wasn’t far enough to bother. When it got cold or snowy, she might, but for now she was walking. And she was working hard on the music, often singing for hours to get a song exactly the way she wanted it. She was spending a lot of her leftover free time with Ethan. She also did extra work around the house, in spite of Brad’s best efforts to prevent it, but he was glad he’d set up all the schedules and lists he had when they’d first moved in, or she’d be doing nothing but cleaning.
Finally, one morning, all three guys were sleeping and Brad and Val were in the kitchen drinking coffee before both of them had to go to work. She was—she was lots thinner. She actually looked hotter than ever before, but he was worried that there was more to it. He had to be sure. He had to know everything was okay.
“Do you have a minute to talk before work?”
She seemed hesitant but nodded. “Sure.”
“Please, Val…please tell me you’re not indulging in any of the shit Ethan does regularly.”
She got a confused look on her face. “What? Why would you even ask that?”
“You’ve lost a lot of weight.”
She shook her head. “That’s not why.”
“Something I should worry about?”
She paused, then said, “Oh, no. No. Hell, no. I’m just…not eating as much and I’m exercising a lot. I’m not starving, and I’m definitely not doing drugs.”
“Okay. Good. Just…you really are our muse, Val. I…” He couldn’t find the words, so he struggled, looking in the cup in front of him for answers.
“What?”
It didn’t matter—he had to say it. “I feel the need to protect you.”
She smiled. “From what?”
“Lots of things. I…just want you safe.” That realization was when he knew he was completely over lusting for her and now loved her like a sister or another bandmate. And he felt that it was a good love, a necessary
love—and much safer than the alternative.
“I am safe, right?” When he didn’t answer immediately, she said, “Right?”
“Yeah, sure. You are. Just…” He wanted her to know that he was there for her, no matter what happened with her and Ethan. “Just remember you have a friend here, okay?”
She rested her hand on top of his, trying to reassure him. “I know that.” And perfect timing. Ethan walked in the kitchen from the bedroom and sat at the table. He said nothing, but it was pretty obvious what he was thinking. As though Brad’s temperature had raised two hundred degrees in a matter of seconds, Valerie pulled her hand off his and wrapped it back around her coffee mug. She looked at Ethan. “Hey, how’d you sleep?”
“For shit.” Brad was glad to see Ethan was his usual self, a beaming ray of sunshine.
He said, “There’s plenty of coffee if you want it.”
“Nah. I know what I want.”
He glanced over at Val. Jesus, what the hell was wrong with the guy? He understood—if Val was his girlfriend, especially the way she was looking lately, he’d want to fuck her all the time too. Unlike his friend, though, he wouldn’t go around pissing on everything. Brad already knew Ethan had won the girl; he didn’t have to continue to flaunt it or, worse, continue to challenge Brad. Brad had already stepped back. And until Ethan could see that, their relationship was going to be strained, and Brad was beginning to wonder if their friendship could even survive.
But, if Brad could believe his senses, that wasn’t all that was going on. Ethan was challenging him, yes, but Brad was pretty sure he was on something. What the guy had in mind, he didn’t know. “Think it through, man.”
“Fuck off, Bradley.”
He maintained his eyes locked on Ethan’s. He was pretty sick of the guy’s shit. Val asked, “Can we please stop?”
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