by Joy Eileen
I wiggled my eyebrows, and she swatted my shoulder turning bright red. cheering me up. “Hey, Jess, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, and if you do, name it after me.”
Outside, the Highlander I parked behind at home was idling, confirming it was D’s ride.
“Nice car,” I commented, crawling in the back. I ignored Kill, and turned on the heated seats.
“Thanks. Someone had to be sensible and get a car that fits all of us.”
I let the heat lull me to sleep, and by the time we were at the house, I was out.
“Hey, you're snoring again,” Kill whispered in my ear.
I sat up, noticing it was just the two of us in the cooling car. After my second failed attempt to unlatch my seatbelt, Kill helped me.
The light mist in the air caused me to shiver when we stepped out of the car. Kill wrapped his arm around me. When we made it inside, I started upstairs.
“Where are you going, Slick?” Kill asked, putting his hand on my shoulder, stopping me from any further advancement.
“Bed,” I mumbled, unable to keep my eyes open any longer.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
I looked over at him, my eyes at half mast, and shook my head. “Sleep.” I replied, making him release his grip.
When I got to my room, I put on a tank top and a pair of shorts, and climbed into bed. I plugged in my phone, deleting another missed call from a private number, and I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
Chapter 9
I woke up groggy as my alarm screeched at me to get up. My body was sore from yesterday's workout and I groaned when I stretched.
Searching through my garbage bags I pulled out a pair of tight workout pants. I rummaged around for another pair, but they eluded me. I felt self-conscious as they clung to my body when I put them on.
Jason hated when I wore tight clothing, telling me I looked like whore. My hoodie being so familiar, made me feel vulnerable in the revealing clothing.
Refusing to think about it I grabbed a load of laundry, mixing my stuff in with everyone’s, and stuffed it in the washer in the garage.
I flipped Kill's car off, before walking out, pissed that in some cosmic prank, we both drove the same car. Mine old and out of fashion, while his was sleek and new, making them incomparable, just like the two of us.
Kill was dressed in workout clothes, and he looked fresh and ready to go as he waited for me in the kitchen. “Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty.”
He smirked as his eyes traveled down my body, all of my curves on display. Flipping him off, I walked over to the coffee maker.
His eyes were on me, and it caused heat to pool in my lower abdomen. I came to the realization that as long as I lived with Kill, I was going to be in a constant state of arousal.
“Are you really a morning person? Because I absolutely hate morning people." I cupped my coffee in my hands so I wouldn't throw it at him.
"Technically, it's afternoon."
"Ugh, it is too early for specifics. Planning on going with me again?”
“Well, someone has to keep you motivated.” He smiled that half-smile and the heat between my legs slowly simmered, approaching a boil.
“Eat,” he ordered me.
“After,” I said, bristling at his order.
“You didn’t eat last night after your shift, and I don’t want to haul your ass home when you pass out, so eat.”
“Then don’t come. I don’t remember inviting you.”
His eyes flashed with hurt, and then understanding. “Will you please eat something?”
He took a different approach, figuring out I would refuse any order, even if it was for my own good.
“Fine,” I relented, grabbing a bowl and spoon. Pulling out the box of Frosted Flakes. I drowned the flakes with milk and placed a dollop of peanut butter on the edge.
Sitting down across from Kill, I took a big bite and stared at him while I chewed. When I swallowed, I gave him an are you happy now look before taking another bite.
He smiled and watched me finish my cereal. A sharp pain cleaved through my stomach when the first bite hit it. I kept going until the bowl was empty and my abdomen was screaming in pain.
As I finished, I was clutching the table. Afraid to breathe in fear that my stomach would protest. Kill came up behind me, caging me in with his body. He leaned in until his face was close to my ear. “What’s wrong?”
I didn’t want to scare him so I took a shaky breath when the pain was less, and then another.
"Faith?” he asked again, panic lacing his voice.
“I’m fine,” I gasped out.
He bent down and picked me up, depositing me on the couch, looming over me with his hands crossed over his chest, his biceps bulging. “What the fuck?”
I decided to embarrass myself, hoping he would accept my response so I wouldn’t have to tell him there was something wrong with me. I'd been ignoring the sharp pains in my stomach for over a year. My daily staple of Tums was turning into a necessity.
“Cramp,” I answered.
He quirked his eyebrow at me, silently telling me my answer wasn't good enough.
“I'm about to start, and I get horrible cramps. I have since I was a kid.”
His face reddened at my explanation. “Do you need anything?” he asked, sitting next to me.
He put his arm around me and pulled me close. I leaned on him, relieved he bought my excuse.
“No, let me digest my food, and we can go running.”
His cheek was pressed against my hair, and I could feel the smile form on his face. “Are you inviting me to go running with you?”
I smiled back as he tunneled further under my skin. “Four days a week sound ok?”
“Yeah, that'll work.”
We leaned on each other in silence until the rest of the house began to stir, and only then did we separate.
My stomach twinged, but I kept my face calm, not wanting to give anything away as he scrutinized my every facial movement.
“Ready?”
When he opened his mouth to protest, I put my hand out to stop him.
“Come on Killer, let’s go. I bet you don’t get to slap my ass at all today.” I threw out the challenge, certain it would get him off the couch more than any reassurance.
He came out while I bent over to stretch. Coming over, he cracked my ass hard with his hand. I yelped, catching myself before I tumbled over.
“Challenge accepted.”
My body was still sore from our last run, and now my ass was stinging. We started off jogging, until my muscles let go, moving more fluidly.
Kill reached over and smacked my ass. Thank goodness it was the other cheek. He increased his speed, and I had no choice but to follow him.
I was thankful when I saw we had circled back home. Seeing the house caused my legs to give up, and I slowed my pace. Kill took my cue, slowing until we were walking.
“You did good, Slick.” He smiled, and I was proud I pushed myself further.
“What are your plans today?” he asked.
“I don’t know.” Spotting Jessie and Amy’s cars I had my answer. “I guess I'm hanging out with my girls,” I told him, skipping up to the house.
“Umm, I don’t think they're here for you,” Kill said, rubbing the back of his neck, looking at the ground.
“Well, shit,” I responded, dumbfounded. I finally got rid of Jason, and had time for them, and they up and found guys.
“You should watch us practice?”
He was still staring at the ground, and if I wasn’t sure his ego had its own zip code, I would have thought he was nervous.
“Sure, let me go take a shower. What time?”
The smile that lit up his face made me wonder if I would ever be able to tell him no again. “In a couple of hours, and then I'll help you make dinner.”
In my room I pulled out a light summer dress from my many garbage bags. It was dark blue and cinched at the waist with tiny pink flowers at the botto
m. I dug out my blue flip flops since it was almost warm outside-those days are few and far between in Portland-and put them by the door.
After a quick shower, I blew my hair dry, putting it up in the wonder that was the messy bun.
I assumed the girls were with their respective boys when I didn't see any sign of them. Leaving my door open in case one of them decided to visit, I took out everything stashed in the closet.
I ran downstairs to switch the clothes, noticing Kill’s Mustang was gone.
Singing along with my iPod, I unpacked my stuff. Inspecting my heels to make sure none of them sustained any damage in my rushed exit. Satisfied they were fine, I fired up my laptop.
The Wi-Fi was locked, so I ended up shutting it down. I surveyed the room, feeling relieved I'd decided to stay here.
Chomping down on a handful of Tums I went to switch out another load of laundry. Not knowing what belonged to whom, I put the stack of unknowns on the bottom step, and took my stuff to my room.
Kill was on the couch flipping through channels when I came back down.
“Hey, Slick. Come sit down.” His panty-dropping smile made me nervous when I sat down next to him.
“Stay here, I'll be right back.”
He jogged upstairs and came back with a satisfied smile.
“What was that about?”
He shrugged his reply and sat down on the far end of the couch. I tried not to let it bother me he'd moved so far away. I mean, why would we be sitting right next to each other?
“Give me a foot,” he said patting his lap.
When I didn't move, he leaned over and grabbed my ankle, hauling my foot on his thigh. I tried to take it away, but when he sunk his thumb in my arch, all thoughts vanished.
I leaned on the back of the couch, and watched his fingers do their magic. When he pressed his thumb into the pad of my foot, I moaned, loud. It took me a moment to notice he went still.
His eyes were shut tight, and there was a pained look on his face. I nudged him with my foot to get his attention. His face relaxed and the half-smile I love appeared.
“Only one foot, Killer?”
He smiled even wider, and I put my other foot on his lap. He dug into my arch, and I moaned again as my eyes rolled back.
“Alright. You need to stop making those noises if you want me to finish.”
My cheeks flushed red from embarrassment. “Sorry,” I said, staring at my foot still encircled in his strong hands.
He chuckled, and continued his ministrations. I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from moaning like a sex starved nympho.
“That isn’t any better, Slick.”
“Huh?” I asked, still dazed from his magic fingers.
“You biting your fucking lip. It’s making me jealous your teeth get to taste your mouth and I can’t.”
The fire burning in his eyes heated up my lower belly and spread between my legs causing my already damp panties to become soaked.
“Sorry,” I replied breathlessly.
He put one of foot down on the floor; the other was shoved to the back of the couch. Leaning over me, he covered my body with his. When he moved over my breasts, my nipples puckered to the point of pain. They throbbed for any attention he was willing to give them.
Our breaths were coming out in short pants. When he placed his leg right in the apex of my desire, I inhaled sharply finally receiving friction I craved. I unabashedly writhed under him trying to get more pressure to alleviate the fire he had started, certain if I sought it out I would obtain it.
My tongue darted out, almost brushing his lips as his eyes went molten. Kill groaned, pushing harder with his leg, grinding it deliciously into me, bringing me closer to the edge.
My inner voice warned me, if I went over, I would never be the same, shattering me in more ways than one. He let me brazenly rub my drenched heat on his leg.
I'd lost all sanity, only wanting to ease the fire roaring through me. His erection dug into my stomach as it strained against his jeans. His lips were mere millimeters from mine, and his pupils were dilated; a minute green ring surrounded them.
When he lowered his lips mine parted to grant immediate access. A door upstairs slammed shut, causing Kill to jump off of me, swearing under his breath.
Jet yelled downstairs. “Faith, I need sustenance. Your friend's insatiable, and I don’t think I can go any more without food, and now I have to practice for Kill the tyrant, even though you can’t fix perfection.”
Kill stood up and adjusted his erection, shocking me when I saw the outline through his jeans, knowing there was no way that….thing would fit in me.
My vagina, being the team player she is, started doing yoga exercises in an effort to accommodate him.
I sat up on the couch and got my ragged breathing settled. Jet emerged with Amy on his back; both of them had candy in their mouths.
“There’s the diabetic couple,” Kill said sharply, his eyes crackling with annoyance.
“Dude, chill the fuck out. You need to get laid. You've been an asshole the past couple of days.”
“Shut the fuck up and go get Van and D. Tell them we're starting practice in five. I’m going to move my car.” Kill stormed in to the garage, slamming the door.
Jet flipped him off after he walked out, shrugging Amy off his back. He swallowed his candy and kissed her on the cheek. “Sorry, baby, I guess we'll have to rain check the next round. The dictator has spoken.”
Amy bounced over and sat next to me, tucking one leg under her. “So, what have you been up to?”
“Nothing, just watching T.V.” I pretended to watch the T.V. intently and hoped I was not as transparent as I felt.
“Are you going to watch the boys practice?” she asked.
I was relieved she seemed oblivious to what had almost transpired between me and Kill.
Jet, determined walking upstairs would require too much energy, yelled instead. “Douche bags, get your fucking asses down here. The tyrant wants to punish us for having pussy while he's going through a dry spell.”
Jet went through the folded clothes on the bottom of the steps. He pulled out what was his and put it on another step for later.
I contemplated what Jet had mentioned twice now and of course my mouth, having a mind of its own blurted out, “Does Kill have dry spells often?”
Jet let out a shocked laugh. “Fuck no! That boy has a different girl on his cock every night. Hell, sometimes more than one. He's just been such an asshole the past couple of days, nobody wants to be around him. I hope he finds whatever crawled up his ass and pulls it the fuck out. I can't handle another brutal practice.” He shook his head and yelled back upstairs. “If you don’t get down here now, I'm coming up there and ripping your dicks out of whatever it's in.”
Two doors slammed shut, and moments later Van emerged, punching Jet in the stomach. D walked down with a handful of notebooks, tapping on his phone and not paying attention to his surroundings.
When they opened the garage door, Kill yelled at them for taking their sweet ass time. The rest of his rant was cut off when Van awkwardly closed the door behind him.
Amy bounced up and down on the couch watching the door, to see if anymore drama would unfold.
Jessie appeared at the bottom of the stairs. Her hair was messy, and her lips were swollen. “Well, what have you been up to, young lady?”
She flipped me off, and I stared at her in shock. “You’re being corrupted by a gorgeous rock star. I’m so proud of you,” I said, getting up and hugging her.
“Well, I would have been doing a lot more if Jet hadn’t interrupted us,” Jessie pouted, sticking her already puffy bottom lip out more.
“Don’t blame Jet. We were just coming up for food. It was Kill who called the early practice,” Amy explained, bounding over to us and putting her arm around Jessie.
Jet walked through the door and saw us hugging each other and smiled widely. “Please tell me you three are about to kiss.” He put his hands together l
ike he was praying.
Amy let go of us and slapped him on the shoulder. “Please, you can’t handle any more than me.”
He rubbed his arm and kissed her hard on the mouth. “Who said I want to be a part of it? I just want to watch.”
“Jet, get your ass in here now,” Kill yelled through the open door.
“Alright,” Jet yelled back, walking into the dining room to get his guitar. “Fucker needs to get laid. I wonder if he would get the hint if I put my big bottle of lotion on his pillow.”
He bit Amy’s shoulder causing her to squeal. “Please come out and watch us practice. Maybe he won’t be such a dick if we have an audience of beautiful women,” Jet begged, putting on his sad puppy dog face, making it impossible to say no. He opened the door wider, bending down low with his arm outstretched.
“Ladies,” he said in a dry tone, kissing Amy on the neck as she walked through the door.
We situated ourselves on the chairs D put out for us. My mind drifted to Jet's comments, while the boys got ready. I wondered if I was the cause of Kill’s dry spell.
The fire always simmering when I was near Kill flared at the sight of him. His voice in the microphone was like being doused in gasoline. He exuded confidence, and whether in front of his band practicing or in a stadium full of people, it was where he belonged.
When they were discovered, and I was confident they would be, they were going to be huge. All four of them were gorgeous, with generous hearts, giving them the bad boy appeal without the bad attitude.
Kill, being the heart of the band, would be the most sought after of them all. I was entranced as they went through their set. The four of them were the epitome of professionalism-well, as professional as a rock band could be, pouring their hearts into the music they were creating.
A desperate energy surged through me, wanting them to succeed, knowing in my heart they deserved it. They took me in without question, bringing me into their little family and making me feel more at home here in forty-eight hours than I had in the years I lived with Jason.
My heart filled up from the love I felt for this band of gorgeous misfits, and I vowed I would do whatever I could to help them reach their dreams.