Collision Course

by Anne-Marie Flemming

  “Maybe,” he said. I laughed and leaned against his shoulder. He promptly put an arm around me and kissed my temple. The move left me stunned. He’d never shown affection towards me when he wasn’t trying to get me in bed. This had just been… nice. Sweet. Almost innocent in a way. I smiled back at him before focusing once more on the chords, trying to please him by writing it all down the way he wanted me to.

  “D’you wanna go to bed?” he asked eventually, when I yawned. “I’m pretty tired myself.”

  I barely managed to nod, my hand still covering my mouth. I waited for Rhys to return the guitar and the notebook to their rightful places – he was pretty meticulous when it came to that, I’d noticed – and then we made our way to the bunk area together. I only had to take off my shirt to be ready for sleep, so I climbed in and waited for him to change. I turned my back to him as not to appear too eager to watch him. One he was finished, he joined me. He’d been so hot and cold with such a high frequency that I didn’t expect much, just now. He had already been nice to me, after all. As soon as he had gotten settled, however, I was surprised to feel his arm come around my waist. He pulled me close.

  “I missed you last night,” he told me after a long moment of silence.

  I turned halfway, staring at the dark ceiling while watching him from the corner of my eye.

  “I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. Then, figuring he was in a good enough mood to be able to take my bluntness, I added, “I honestly didn’t think you wanted me there.”

  He was quiet. Then, I felt his breath against my cheek as he exhaled a sigh.

  “When are you gonna learn?” he asked, and kissed my shoulder.

  “Learn what?” I couldn’t keep myself from asking. His mouth traveled upwards, finally meeting mine. I responded to the slight pressure with a little of my own, and soon his tongue was playing with mine. His arm was still around me, holding me close, even pressing my hips against his when I turned towards him completely. I could feel that he was hard, and my body soon responded in kind. Goddamn it.

  “Fuck,” he said finally, breathlessly, when we came apart. He seemed to be thinking along the same lines as I was. We couldn’t really do anything on the bus. That didn’t get him to let go of me though, and I felt him throbbing against me, felt myself doing the same, my heartbeat pulsating wildly through my cock.

  “Oh this is not good,” he said. He was smiling, but I could feel his frustration. I bit my lip. I was tempted to offer a blowjob, but thought better of it. It could get us, or more precisely me, in some pretty hot water. I did not want to suffer through the complete awkwardness and probable admonishment if we were caught.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, panting, echoing his desperation. My hand was on his waist, holding him close as tightly as he was holding me. I was having a very hard time keeping myself from grinding against him. That would have driven me completely nuts.

  “So,” he said, appearing utterly unwilling to let me go.

  “Yeah,” I said, and pressed myself closer. He inhaled sharply in response.

  “We can’t,” he reminded me rather gently, peering down at me. The corners of his mouth were still turned up in a half-smile.

  “I know,” I told him, looking regretful.

  “Fuck,” he said again, breathlessly.

  Well, I figured, at least this time I wasn’t the only one suffering from the sexual tension. Still though, as much as I liked being so close to him, we could hardly keep rubbing off on each other throughout the night. So I sighed and pushed myself away from him, biting my lip all the while.

  “Tomorrow,” I promised him in a whisper.

  “It’s gonna be a long-ass time till tomorrow,” he informed me, as though I didn’t know it.

  When I turned my back to him in order to try and actually sleep, he put his arm around me and pulled me against him once more. His intention was less sexual this time. It left me feeling content, and wanted, as I drifted off to sleep and hoped the time until we could be truly alone together would pass quickly.

  +++

  I spent a lot of time the next day trying to figure out Rhys Udelhoven. I’d reached the point of being too confused by him not to. Silently, just sitting in the bus and later in the hotel lobby, I considered what I’d found out about his behavior during the time I had spent with him.

  He was moody as all hell, running hot and cold at the drop of a hat. Early in the morning, he was almost guaranteed to be some manner of abrasive. When he was cranky, he didn’t like to talk, made me feel like he didn’t care for my company, but he had assured me a couple of times now that he didn’t actually mind it. I’d need to figure that one out soon, how to handle those moods of his.

  Taking away his moody phases, I supposed he had been getting progressively nicer to me. The first night the sex had been awful, the next time it had been better, then he’d actually kissed me for the first time and fucked my brains out soon after that. He had started to show actual interest at times, and now he had actually begun to show affection independently of anything sexual. So, in conclusion, apart from being cranky he had actually gotten to be pretty fond of me, or so it seemed. I welcomed the way he made me feel, warm and pleased and excited.

  Then I admitted to myself that despite all the stress he put me through, I had a massive crush on Rhys.

  It was a bit odd, facing the realization so openly. I’d never denied that I was attracted to him and also weirdly fond of him, but still… this couldn’t possibly be a good idea.

  Except he had apparently grown a little fond of me too. And now I was getting my hopes up, which was ridiculous. He was still a rock star. I was a random fan along for the ride. He might like my company, but I would have had to be delusional to think he was falling for me.

  “Are you daydreaming?” Penley asked, and waved a hand in front of my face. I looked up at him and made a face. He smiled.

  “Rooms are finally ready.”

  We’d had to wait for far longer than planned, as the hotel had apparently had trouble being ready on time. There had been a big basketball game in Oklahoma City the night before, and fans of the game had been late to check out this morning.

  “Oh good,” I said vaguely. Then I looked around and found only Rhys' abandoned duffel bag a couple of seats away. “Where’s Rhys?”

  “Out for a smoke, I think.” Penley shrugged. “You should probably take his bag along, he’ll be pissed if it’s left standing here.”

  I decided to do him the favor. I enjoyed having Rhys in a good mood, after all. I liked him a lot when we flirted, or when we actually had a comfortable conversation, and anything that might keep him happy was pretty much worth doing. Taking a key card from Big D, I turned to make my way upstairs loaded with both Rhys' bag and my own.

  I passed girls on the way. They were making pretty eyes mostly at Angus and Penley, waving, arching their backs. I wasn’t very comfortable with those sorts of fans, the ones that looked like professional strippers, all with blond hair and killer figures. It had occurred to me that, if Rhys was ever in the mood for female company, there wasn't shit I could do about it. The thought made me feel sick.

  Penley waved at the girls, looking unaffected, and Angus pulled his baseball cap into his face as he moved past. Of course, these two both had families already. I got looks that weren’t exactly kind, and actually sort of condescending. I set my chin. I was the one in Rhys' bed, I thought stubbornly, and refused to let it bother me.

  Still, a feeling of slight inadequacy lingered as I flopped onto the bed in the room – one of two beds, to be precise. I wasn’t quite sure why we hadn’t gotten just one, this time. The subject of my thoughts arrived in the room a good five minutes later, smelling of cigarettes. He took one look at me and frowned.

  “Why have we got two beds?” he asked, as though I was bound to be responsible for the mix-up.

  Moodiness. Goddamn it, I had to learn how to deal with this.

  I raised my head and gave him a look.

  �
��That a rhetorical question?” I wanted to know. “Or are you actually assuming that I somehow magically know the reasoning behind the way they booked this room?”

  Apparently, being a smartass didn’t go over well with him just now. He frowned, looked disgusted, then threw up his arms and walked into the bathroom.

  I swore and rolled myself off the bed.

  “Hey,” I said, standing up and approaching him. “I was just kidding, damn it.” I stepped into the bathroom, where he stood with the sink running, and put my hands on his pecs from behind.

  “Lighten up, hm?” I asked, and arched my eyebrows at him through the mirror.

  He just frowned at me more.

  I sighed and moved my hands, massaging his back in circular motions because, well, it seemed like the thing to do.

  “What can I do to make you feel better?” I wanted to know.

  His expression barely changed. “Huh?” he asked.

  Goddamn it I decided to risk it and be honest. I had worked out in the past, after all.

  “Look, last night you wanted to fuck me so bad we could barely get to sleep, and now you look at me as though I just murdered your firstborn.”

  Finally, I saw a hint of change in his features.

  “What?” he asked. I thought he was slightly amused, and trying not to show it, but I wasn’t completely sure. I stepped forward, still standing behind him but closer now, and leaned my head against his shoulder while still looking at him in the mirror.

  “You heard me.”

  He sighed, shook his head at me for a moment, and turned to put an arm around me.

  Oh. That was promising. Still, I looked at him questioningly.

  “What?” it was my turn to ask.

  He continued to shake his head at me for a second longer. Then he turned, kissed my forehead, and looked directly at me. My legs turned to jelly.

  “I dunno,” he said. “You make me smile.”

  I blinked up at him. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted after a moment. “You just got a weird way of going about it.”

  “I am a little weird,” I pointed out reluctantly. My hands were still touching him, and I brushed my thumbs across the fabric of his t-shirt.

  ‘Yeah,” he said again. Then he kissed me, properly that time. My head spun. God, I did love his kisses.

  “I don’t like seeing you all moody,” I told him when we came apart. My hand was buried in his hair and I brushed through it with my fingers. “I feel like it’s my job to cheer you up, but I don’t always know how.”

  “Well, don’t feel like it’s your job,” he weakened my statement. “I mean, I appreciate it, but…”

  I kissed him again. My tongue brushed across his lips, and he responded in kind for a moment before pulling away.

  “Okay, whatever,” he dismissed the conversation. “Let’s fuck.”

  I was not about to complain. His hand cupped my ass, causing me to press myself closer to him. His other hand was already fumbling with my belt.

  ‘So, get naked,” he commanded. I stuck my tongue out at him in reply.

  “You’re so romantic,” I told him, but dutifully pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor. He helped me discard the rest of my clothes at lightning speed, staying dressed all the while, and eventually spun me to face the mirror before slipping a finger inside me. The unexpected sensation sent a jolt of excitement through me.

  This was… different. Strangely hot though, I thought, glancing at him in the mirror. He caught my glance and leaned forward, brushing his free hand across my skin. His cock pressed against the side of my ass, but he took his time, kissing my neck, combing his fingers through my hair.

  “You’re so fucking hot, Blue,” he muttered into my ear, which caused goosebumps to form on my skin. Yes, it was something he probably said all the time to people he fucked, but still, it felt good to hear it. I watched his face as he entered me, the expression of pleasure, of complete bliss that I felt surging through me as well, and I arched my back as though my life depended on it. I should have found it weird, but oddly enough, the fact that he was completely dressed and I wasn’t actually turned me on. I wasn’t sure why that was, and I was a little too preoccupied to reflect on it much. His cock felt amazing inside me.

  “You feel so good,” I told him, gasping the words rather than speaking them. His eyes met mine in the mirror.

  “Yeah,” he said, and then his eyes fluttered close and he thrust so hard a jolt of pleasure rushed through me. I moaned, loudly. For once, he didn’t seem to mind at all.

  We continued to watch each other through the bathroom mirror. There was an erotic tension between us I very much enjoyed, and Rhys seemed to feel the same way. He took his time for once, varying speed and rhythm, his eyes either closed or watching my face. Eventually, one of his hands reached forward and wound itself into my hair.

  Oh god. I hoped he would pull it. Please, please, I thought, let him figure out how much I love having my hair pulled.

  His grip tightened just a little, and I moaned.

  “Good?” he asked promptly, his voice breathless.

  “Yes,” I gasped, feeling like a complete slut. It was good.

  He pulled, harder this time. I nearly lost it right there.

  “Holy shit,” he said when I’d calmed the out-of-control noises my throat was making without my consent. “You’re really into that.”

  “Yeah,” I admitted, and he yanked my head backwards almost brutally. That time, I came.

  The world blinked back into existence and I realized that my upper body was lying fully on the bathroom counter, Rhys collapsed on top of me, still gasping hard. My entire body was tingling. He was still inside me, twitching, going soft bit by bit. The zipper of his jeans scraped against my backside, and I couldn’t have cared less.

  “Oh god,” I muttered weakly.

  He chuckled, very softly, but otherwise didn’t move.

  “You figured out my weak spot,” I murmured, not sure if I actually wanted him to hear me. He shifted against me.

  “Having your hair pulled?” he asked, as though that hadn’t been obvious, and gave it another gentle, playful tug. I shuddered.

  “Among others,” I hinted, and moved my arms. He took the hint and took his weight off me, finally slipping out of me.

  “You are so much fun,” he said, and went to get cleaned up.

  I remained where I was, contemplating a shower. I was sweating and sticky. It felt nice though, having just been fucked so thoroughly by Rhys. I’d always liked it rough. I felt satisfied and actually kind of naughty to just keep standing there, still throbbing from his harsh entry. I hadn’t moved by the time he returned to the bathroom.

  “Get dressed before I fuck you again,” he threatened playfully, and snapped the t-shirt in his hands at me.

  “I’ll take a shower, actually, I think.” Finally I moved, giving him a smile.”If you don’t mind.”

  He shrugged.

  “I’ll be downstairs,” he said vaguely, and turned to leave while I started the shower.

  +++

  We slept together again that night. I was so used to Rhys ignoring me and playing coy after every time we had sex that his continued interest surprised me. The night was fun, once more a little rough, with him experimenting more thoroughly on my body and apparently enjoying the new found thrill of making me scream my head off with a well-placed hand in my hair, another pinching my nipples and tugging the chain connecting them, and his cock pounding away inside me. He took my breath away and made my head spin, and I noticed him losing himself much more thoroughly than he had the first few times we’d fucked. I was more than happy with the turn our sex life had taken.

  Rhys seemed to be, as well. At first I thought I was imagining it, but then it turned out that everyone else noticed it as well – he was relaxed, cheerful, even social. I was sitting by the stage later in the day, during sound check, rather pleased as I watched him joking wi
th Big D.

  “So, am I going to have to invest in some earplugs?” Oz, usually so nice and soft-spoken, was the one to ask. I caught his meaning at once, and blushed so hard I thought my cheeks might be on fire.

  “Fuck you,” I said for lack of a better response, and fled before he could make it worse.

  Good sex could really help a lot in getting someone’s mood up. I hoped it would last. Rhys was much easier to be around when he was friendly and relaxed. Everyone else appeared to be thinking the same, but it was Angus who came up to me and patted my shoulder affectionately. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said to general amusement.

  Despite the fact that he had, in essence, complimented me on my ability to please Rhys sexually, I felt rather touched and sort of proud that he’d said that. I suppose my priorities might have been skewed a little, but I also didn’t want to start pretending to myself that I was there for any other reason but to be company to Rhys. I might as well embrace my status.

  I checked in on Zach that evening, just before the concert. It had been eight days since I’d left, eight days during which he’d been feeding my cats and taking care of my affairs for me. I wondered, wincing inwardly, how soon he’d be getting sick of driving up to my apartment every day. My semi-crap cellphone kept losing reception in the Oklahoma City venue, the name of which I had forgotten right after our arrival, and so I had to ask to borrow Rhys’ iPhone to actually make the call. He handed it over a little reluctantly. Zach was as confused as he’d been the first time I had called him on Rhys’ phone.

  “When are you coming home, then?” he asked after a minute’s or so worth of small talk.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. Things were going well. Rhys certainly hadn’t given any indication that he wanted me to leave.

  I heard him sigh. “Damn, those must be some great blowjobs you’re giving him.”

  “The best,” I replied easily, though I was a little irritated. Yes, Rhys kept me around for sex, but Zach was sounding like an asshole.

  “Look, just remember that you’ve got a life to come back to,” he reminded me before saying goodbye. In was a not-so-subtle reminder of everything waiting for me back home, the fact that the tour bus life was a short-lived escape from it all. It made me feel sad, and I tried to ignore the heavy feeling it caused inside me.