*
DEX
It had taken everything in me to keep on walking. Now, twenty minutes later and back at home, slouched on my slick black leather couch and looking at the infinity pool on the other side of the huge bay windows in the living room, my cock was still hard and my fucking hands kept on shaking as if I was going through a bad case of withdrawal.
The last time I thought I could do that shit, I hadn’t been so unsettled. But it wasn’t because I wanted Harley so badly that I could go through with it. I knew it.
My phone buzzed in my pocket and I rolled my eyes. I knew it was one of the guys, probably ready to gossip about how I had behaved with Harley in her father’s office. I sighed and leaned farther back in the couch to access my pocket. Right before it went to voicemail I answered, taking a deep breath.
“Maxen, what’s up?’’
“You have the hots for little Harley,’’ his voice boomed in my phone and I cringed. He sounded hyper and it made me feel more exhausted than I already was. That whole mess was taking its toll on me and I wasn’t only referring to Harley, but also the band and our next album.
“Are we back in high school now?’’ I scratched my cheek.
“Hey now, you’re the one unable to—‘’
“Don’t fucking go there, Maxen.’’
“We’re on the phone, man. What are you goin’ to do, huh?’’
I rolled my eyes and groaned. “You’re fucking annoying.’’
“Yeah, yeah,’’ he said and then barked out his loud laugh. “Are you home?’’
I hesitated to tell the truth, knowing full well the idiot lived right next door and would knock at my door in two minutes tops. “I’m not in the mood.’’
“What, you don’t want to listen to my latest fuck story? It’s a shame, Dex, she was a yoga instructor.’’
I tightened my grip on my phone and clenched my jaw. I didn’t want to listen to how many fucking orgasms he gave his pretzel woman. Fuck, I didn’t want to think about sex, mention it or talk about women. But it was Maxen, that was impossible.
“I’m at your door.’’ And then, the fucker rang the bell.
I disconnected the call without a word, threw the phone on the coffee table made of glass and metal and walked to the front door. “Don’t fuck with me, Maxen.’’
He laughed and shouldered past me into the house, making himself at home. I followed him back to the living room and I watched him let himself fall right next to the place I was sitting. “Nah, don’t worry. I’m not on that team.’’
“And I am. Right.’’ I walked to the couch and sat. I moved my head from left to right, trying to ease off some of the tension in my neck and shoulders. But it didn’t do anything.
“I was kidding, Dex. I know you don’t always smile, but fuck, you can smirk at least.’’ Maxen crossed his arms over his chest and his muscles bulged under his black tank. Now that I was looking, it was obvious he had been in his gym, lifting weights probably. The fucker was big enough, but still he kept on lifting weights.
“Sorry,’’ I mumbled.
I had known Maxen for a long time now. We went to high school together and became friends our junior year. Music first helped us to bond, but life finished the job. We had been fucked over way too much and could only count on each other for a while, up until we had met Otis and Beckett in college freshman year. But Maxen and I, we got each other, we knew each other. And I couldn’t hide shit from him.
“If you’re attracted to Harley, that’s good, Dex. Seriously.’’
I cringed at hearing his serious voice, the one when there wasn’t a trace of his usual smile and laugh. That meant I couldn’t escape him. “You know I can’t. Let’s not rehash it.’’
“It’s in your head.’’
“Yeah, exactly. It’s in my fucked up head.’’ I stood up and went to the bar in the left corner of the room. With shaky hands, I poured a whiskey and started sipping it. I wasn’t a heavy drinker, but I needed something to take that edge off before I exploded.
“You should try again.“
“Because that worked out well the last time.’’ I took another sip of my drink and went back to the couch. I didn’t ask him if he wanted something, I knew he would serve himself if he did.
“Last time she was a hooker, man. That’s different.’’
I laughed humorlessly, remembering all too well how humiliating that night in Chicago had been. “She was a pro at that shit and I couldn’t follow through. I didn’t even get hard when she was sucking my cock.’’
And that’s where the problem lay. I couldn’t stay hard when I was with a woman. The woman could be hot, could be the best fuck that existed, but in the end either I couldn’t get it up or I couldn’t stay hard long enough to satisfy her or me. Of course I could get her off with my fingers and mouth, I was fucking good at that, but what did that say about me?
It all started a week before our graduation ceremony in high school and since then, I had had bad experiences, unable to come when with a woman, unable to have a real sex life. I had tried a handful of times since high school and it had always failed. I stopped two years ago when even a hooker couldn’t do a damn thing.
Harley…
Harley didn’t deserve that shit and I honestly didn’t want her to know about this. It was humiliating, it was frustrating.
I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and pointer finger and then sipped my drink, cringing at the hard bite of the alcohol.
“I know you don’t want to hear it but—‘’
“Shut up. If I don’t want to hear whatever you want to say, just shut up. I’m not in the mood.’’
“You said that already, but it has never stopped me before,’’ Maxen retorted and clasped my shoulder forcefully. The liquid in the tumbler swished from his sudden move and I glared at him. “You’re never like that with a woman. Harley gets to you.’’
I looked away from his green eyes and swallowed thickly. “So what?’’ I stared at the pool outside and the sky turning pink as the sun started going down. “Doesn’t change shit.’’
“I don’t know, Dex.’’ He sighed and in the corner of my eyes I saw him toy with his piercing. “You can’t stay like this forever.’’
“Like what? Abstinent?’’ I smirked at him and put my drink down on the coffee table next to my phone which kept on lighting up with Twitter notifications or some other shit. “Monks don’t fuck.’’
“You’re not a monk. You’re supposed to be the opposite of a monk. A rockstar who doesn’t fuck is an anomaly.’’
“What do you want me to do then? I can’t just barge into Harley’s room and tell her I can’t keep my cock hard but she shouldn’t take it personally? Yeah, right.’’
“Or you could explain why you have this issue.’’ Maxen shrugged. “You’ve been hiding long enough.’’
“I’m not hiding.’’ I frowned and looked at my hands in my lap. As usual, when I was tense or nervous my fists were clenched as if I was preparing myself for a fight. “I went to therapy.’’
He chuckled and put his feet on the coffee table and kept his arms crossed over his chest. “How many times? Once?’’
“It was twice,’’ I replied through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, twice. I don’t think that’s enough to get your problem solved.’’
“Would you go to therapy, Maxen? Because, fucker, you have as many reasons to go as I do.’’
“But I can fuck a chick. I don’t have to jerk myself off days in and days out to function. I can have any pussy do that for me.’’
My frown deepened and I drank what was left of my drink, and sighed when the alcohol hit me and warmed my stomach. “I don’t know why she attracts me,’’ I said, thinking aloud. “Harley, I mean.’’
“She’s hot.’’ Maxen pointed out now looking outside. He was keeping his arms crossed.
“Yeah, but it’s not like we don’t meet hot women often.’’
“This is different. She�
�s not hanging around for one of us to fuck her. She’s working.’’
I smirked at my best friend and at the same time clenched my fists tighter. “Believe me, she wanted me to fuck her earlier.’’ I had zero sex life, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t a man. Knowing how I got Harley hot and bothered was a serious ego boost. And a fucking turn on that only complicated things for me.
Maxen’s smile reappeared and he uncrossed his arms, arching his blonde eyebrows at me. “What happened? Did you kiss her? Fuck, I knew there was a man in there still.’’ He punched me in the shoulder and laughed loudly.
“Fuck off.’’ I shook my head. “Just because I’m not fucking doesn’t mean I’m not a man.’’
“See that?’’ He pointed at my face. “That’s why you need to get off with a woman. You’d be more relaxed and know when to take a damn joke.’’
“It’s not funny.’’
He puffed out some air and leaned further back in the couch, his head thrown back and eyes closed. “Then do something!’’
“Letting a hooker know about this problem is one thing, having Floyd’s daughter first-hand witness is completely different.’’
“Because you like her.’’
“We argue half the time.’’
“Pretty much how it is with us, man.’’ He opened one eye and looked at me, his head still on the back of the couch. “Don’t tell me that doesn’t turn you on when she looks at you with her angry eyes.’’
I cringed and looked away. “Go home.’’
He laughed. “Point Maxen.’’ He straightened up and toyed with his piercing, his fingers shaking slightly again. I frowned at him. “I talked with Beckett before coming here.’’
I sighed and rubbed at my temple. A headache would soon beat there, I felt it coming. “I’ll call him later tonight. If he’s still pissed at the photo shoot it’s going to be hell.’’
“He’d listen to you better if you had a few lyrics ready.’’
“I can’t control that shit!’’ I stood up suddenly and paced my living room, not seeing the vast room or the high priced furniture I hired an interior designer to buy when I got that house after our first album hit number one on the charts. “I got nothing but blank pages and some lame ideas.’’
“Maybe we should get together and brainstorm.’’
“Usually I have a few real ideas to go from. We’d only end up fighting if we try and make a fucking song.’’ I shook my head and kept on pacing. “I don’t know what to do.’’
“One name; Harley.’’
I stopped and turned back to my best friend. My back was to the pool and I was a few feet from him, but it was obvious he wasn’t the loose guy with a permanent smile on his face right now. He was the guy very few knew, the guy who took this band to heart, who would always pick the band over anything, even over sex.
“What about her? She’s not a fucking songwriter.’’
“No, but she’s on your mind. Maybe she could be your real life experience. You never know.’’
“I don’t need her for real life experience. It’s not like I’m a fucking virgin!’’
He tilted his head to one side and stood up, stretching himself. “Last time you had sex we were still in high school. You need a refreshment and I think she’s the perfect candidate. You write about sex, love, heartbreak, but it’s been a while since you’ve last felt this.’’
He walked to me, punched my shoulder gently and left the house to go to his next door. I was still standing in the middle of the living room, turning his last words in my head.
Could it be why I couldn’t write a single song? Because I used up all my life’s experiences already?
HARLEY
I tipped the cab and left the car. As soon as the air outside hit me I took a deep breath. It was ten in the morning and yet it was already sweltering. I pushed away my bangs from my forehead and looked around to locate the alley where the photo shoot was supposed to take place. I smiled ruefully when my eyes landed on the four police officers making sure to keep bystanders away from the site. I didn’t need to use Google maps to find where I needed to go.
As I started walking I opened my Twitter app and quickly typed a tweet.
One Track Blog (@HarleyOneTrack)
Who wants to know what is it like when #KinkyShine is on a photo shoot? #abouttogethot
“This area is restricted, Miss,’’ one of the policemen said, holding his hand up to stop me before I reached him. He was frowning so deeply that he looked older than he probably was.
I pointed at the badge attached to a lanyard around my neck. “I’m part of the staff.’’ He didn’t move and kept on scowling at me. Damn, I get it, it’s not the best mission out there for these men, but some politeness wouldn’t be too bad. I took off the badge and showed him, very close to his face.
He stepped back and cleared his throat. “Alright, Miss Floyd,’’ he said squinting at my name on the badge. “You can pass.’’
A few bystanders mumbled their annoyance at seeing me authorized to walk in. I knew they didn’t have a clue of what was truly going on, but considering we were in LA, they weren’t wrong in thinking there were famous people on the other side. That could almost bring a smile to my face, but I was too tired for it and in too much of a bad mood. I had spent last night turning and tossing in my bed. Hot and bothered didn’t cover it. I was confused too.
I walked down the alley and stumbled on a few people walking here and there busy doing their jobs while I took everything in. Farther down, huge spotlights took the majority of the space. I tripped and barely caught myself against the wall. Several cables strewn about on the ground, zigzagging everywhere.
“Hey, Harley!’’
I glanced up and saw Maxen waving at me. He was standing next to an open door leading to a building. That was probably where they set up the makeup room and where the band changed clothes. I quickly glanced around to see if Dex was somewhere, but I didn’t see him. I forced a smile and approached Maxen.
“I’d hug you, but I don’t think your dad would be happy with me.’’
I chuckled and adjusted the sunglasses on my nose. “He warned me about you countless times before I booked my flight here.’’
He smiled and when his green eyes settled on the huge spotlights he grimaced. “Bet ya it’s going to be a pain in the ass.’’
“The shoot?’’ I turned sideways to take in the scene. “You must be used to it by now.’’
“Used to these crazy photographers who are more into seeing us almost naked and getting it on than actually taking pictures of us for the band we are? Yeah.’’
“Oh.’’ I widened my eyes at hearing the loathing in Maxen’s voice. The man didn’t seem like the hateful type, yet at this moment it was obvious he hated being here.
“Max!’’ Otis’ voice echoed from inside the building. “You have my phone, dumbass.’’ He walked out wearing only an opened jean jacket with the sleeves cut off showing off his old school tats and dark jeans hanging low on his tapered waist. “Hey, Harley.’’ He nodded at me and this time around, for the first time he didn’t look like he had a hangover.
Beckett walked out and mumbled my name. He didn’t look like he was in a good mood. He must be still angry after his spat with Dex yesterday.
Maxen grabbed the phone in his pants and groaned. “Fuck, sorry for that.’’ The men exchanged phones.
“For once your booty call was more classy,’’ Otis commented.
“What booty call?’’
“The one that said to meet at eleven tonight.’’ Otis glared at the set for the shoot. “For once it wasn’t attached to a naked picture.’’
“As if it’d have shocked you,’’ Beckett piped in and put on his Ray-Ban’s and touched the top of his head where he wore a gray knit baggie beanie.
Maxen was frowning at his phone, shaking slightly between his big fingers. I kept my eyes on him, on the way he eyed his bandmates as if he was hiding something. He didn’
t even say something inappropriate like he seemed to often. There was something…maybe it’s a woman.
“Have you seen my tweet this morning?’’ Beckett asked me.
“The one about the perfect place to buy coffee in LA? Yeah, but now you can’t go there without risking running into fans.’’ I laughed.
He shrugged. “Either way, I often have to sign stuff and pose for a picture when I go out. At this point…’’
“That’s when I’m reminded how our lives are very different.’’
The men all shrugged and we fell silent. We all looked at the ballet of people finishing the set when Dex walked out of the building followed closely by my father, his nose in his phone. But Dex… Dex he wasn’t looking anywhere but at me. It was like he knew I was here before he saw me.
My chest constricted and I looked away, unable to take that tension anymore. He may not have played me yesterday, but I was left hanging without a real explanation. I felt more than he did and while that wasn’t surprising, it still didn’t sit well with me. I had never been in such a position before and it was overwhelming.
“Next thing you know the photographer will ask you to get down to your briefs,’’ Otis remarked, shaking his head.
He wasn’t that far off. Dex was wearing an old pair of jeans, used and worn so many times washed they seemed ready to tear. A few holes on his powerful thighs and knees finished the touch and I could safely say he looked edible. His chest mostly tattooed and completely bared called out to any hot-blooded woman and I wasn’t an exception. I was probably worse than most because he hadn’t shown me a lot of good things about him other than his incredible look and yet I really did want to sleep with him. At this point, I didn’t know if it had something to do with his music, him or the fact that he was a real bad boy compared to the men I had been with. After all, weren’t all women supposed to get together with a bad boy at least once? Only in my case, I wouldn’t get with him at all.
Dex (Kinky Shine #1) Page 7