Hard & Lethal: A Bad Boy Romance

by Jade Allen

  “He has a point, you know,” Nick said, giving Alex a quick, sideways look. “Come on, ‘Lex. Don’t fuck up the evening. It’s been months since we’ve all been out at the same time. Just fucking enjoy it with the rest of us and give your crusade for the band’s purity a rest for the night.” Alex glared at Nick but there wasn’t really anything he could say.

  “Fine,” Alex said finally. “Let’s just get drunk and celebrate the fact that we’re halfway through recording the album, and Mark is finally getting laid regularly.” I raised my beer to that and we started talking about something else; I kept an eye out for Allie, waiting for her to get back from talking on the phone to her client. I was pretty sure that when she did come back to the table, she was going to have to deal with awkwardness from Alex, and the whole vibe going off because nobody else but him really had an issue with her.

  Instead, a few minutes later my phone buzzed, and I slipped it out of my pocket. Nobody was really paying attention to me anymore, so I could check it without anyone commenting. Hey--client said she needed to see the proofs I came up with again, and of course she deleted them yesterday. I grabbed a Lyft back to your place. The key’s still under the blue frog, right? I replied to tell her that it was and told the guys that Allie had had to run back to my place to get some stuff together for the client that had messaged her earlier. I didn’t want to think anything of it, but a look flashed across Alex’s face when I told the rest of the guys the news, and I knew that the subject of whether Allie was dating me because she liked me or for some ulterior motive reared its ugly head once again.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “What do you think of these?” Allie slid a binder into my lap, open to reveal a photo proof of one of the up-and-coming local bands, Georgie Pendleton. I’d seen them live with Allie about two weeks before, and she’d chatted them up after the show at Culture Room, suggesting that since they were getting ready to put out an EP--and since they had some financial backing in the form of a small-time label--she could give them a good rate on promo material.

  I flipped through the proofs, looking at them for a few seconds each. Georgie Pendleton was a hardcore band--not generally my cup of tea, but pretty good for what they were--and Allie had taken an unusual route with the photo shoot, with warm lighting instead of cold, and bright colors contrasting with the band’s uniform of darks. “Yeah Yeah Yeahs inspired?” I glanced at Allie. She shrugged.

  “Just wanted to play a bit with stereotypes,” she told me. I nodded.

  “I’m going to ask the guys again if they think it might be a good idea for you to come into the studio for a day or so,” I said. Allie raised an eyebrow.

  “I thought you said Alex was against the idea?” I shrugged. It had been about two weeks since Allie had met the guys, and while Alex hadn’t brought up the weird suspicions he’d had about Allie again, I’d caught him more than once scowling when I texted Allie during breaks in the studio.

  “Jules and Nick are into it,” I told her. It was true; Jules and Nick had both mentioned that they thought it was a good idea. They’d mentioned it away from Alex, but they’d mentioned it. Dan hadn’t said anything about it specifically, but he’d said more than once in the past two weeks that he was glad for me, that he wanted Sophie to get to know Allie better. “Oh--and Olivia wants to talk about maybe borrowing you for a story she’s working on,” I added.

  “She does?” Allie had met Olivia about a week before, on some bizarre kind of double date Nick had cooked up. Allie seemed pleased--more pleased than I expected, although of course it was probably always on the top of her mind to keep work in the funnel.

  “She liked the stuff you showed her from the festival and all that,” I said. “I think she’s doing some kind of special report, wants high quality photos.”

  “I’ll shoot her an email,” Allie said, smiling to herself. “That actually works out pretty well--one of my clients canceled their project, and I could use something to fill in.”

  “I don’t know when she’s going to need you,” I pointed out.

  “It’s all good,” Allie said. She reached over me to pick up her half-empty beer from the coffee table. “So, you think I should take pictures of the band?” I glanced at her. I’d tried not to let Alex’s petty, bullshit suspicions get to me, but I hadn’t quite been able to shake the sneaky little accusation he’d made: that Allie had engineered everything, our meeting and all, to try and pick up high caliber work.

  “Could be fun,” I said, nodding. “And I mean, Nick and Jules like the idea. Dan I’m sure probably thinks it’ll be cool.”

  “But not Alex,” Allie said. I shrugged.

  “Alex doesn’t like anyone who’s not Mary,” I joked. “Hell, I’m not even convinced he likes the rest of the band that much anymore.” Allie raised an eyebrow at that. “Kidding,” I added. “Kind of, anyway.”

  “I thought you said the drama had come to an end,” Allie said, looking concerned.

  “It has, more or less,” I said quickly. “But you know how it is when you get a room full of guys: testosterone everywhere.” I tried to smile, to reassure her. “Besides, there are some aspects of the drama that was going on before you came along that never really fully got resolved.” Allie sipped her beer and thought for a moment, and I tried again to push any thought of her being some kind of fucking Machiavelli of photographers out of my mind.

  “I’ve watched a lot of bands interact,” Allie said finally. “I mean--obviously, I have. It’s sort of a big part of the job.” I nodded. “I feel like there’s something special with you and the other guys in Molly Riot, that vibe--no one really knows what to call it--that makes you good.”

  “You’ve been watching us that closely?” I smirked at her. “You haven’t spent that much time with us.”

  “Not as a full group, obviously,” Allie said, shrugging it off. “But I’ve seen you with Nick, and with Dan. And I did have that evening with the whole band, and obviously, I’ve seen you interacting in interviews and stuff.”

  “Okay,” I said, holding her gaze for a moment. “Go on.”

  “I’m just saying, from watching you guys interact, you have something,” Allie said. “Something that bands kill to have. You’re greater than the sum of your parts.”

  “And you got this from watching interviews of us and a few dates?” I looked at Allie a little skeptically. “Just how many interviews did you watch?” Allie rolled her eyes.

  “The important thing is that you and the rest of the band have something real,” she insisted. “I’m not going to say that you should dump me if Alex wants you to or anything, but maybe it would be worth talking to him one-on-one, making him understand--or at least trying.”

  “We don’t really do that so much,” I said, making a face. “I mean, I do that with Dan--or I used to, at least, a lot more. I’m starting to be better friends with Nick. But as a rule, we don’t have these like, big, heartfelt chats about our feelings.” Allie snorted.

  “You obviously talk about stuff,” she pointed out. “You guys were able to get enough in touch with your feelings to agree to send Alex to rehab, and you have to have been talking at least a little in dealing with this drama.”

  “A lot of it has been shouting,” I countered. Allie snickered.

  “What I mean is, don’t invite me into the studio to take pictures if you think Alex is going to be an asshole about it. I don’t want to be the elephant in the room.” I looked her up and down slowly.

  “You could never be an elephant,” I told her, giving her a little grin.

  “Talk to Alex,” Allie said firmly. “And if he Okays it, I’ll come in and take some shots, and we’ll see what we get from it.”

  “I will talk to Alex,” I promised. “But for right now he is the last person on the planet I want to be thinking about.” Allie grinned slowly.

  “Is that so?” She took the photo binder out of my lap and set it aside. “What would you rather be thinking about?”

  “Oh,
I’m already thinking about it,” I told her, letting my gaze linger on her tits for a moment before shifting down to her hips, her legs curled up underneath her, and what was in between. “I’m thinking I want to spend the rest of the day relaxing, maybe order in some Chinese later, and see if we can beat our personal best.”

  “That actually sounds pretty good,” Allie said, stretching just enough for the hem of her tank top to ride up and reveal the tanned skin of her belly just above the waistband of her shorts. It was enough to make my mouth water; even if I wasn’t entirely sure that Alex’s stupid comments about Allie only hooking up with me for the purposes of working with the band were false, I couldn’t deny that I was into her. I took the beer bottle away from Allie and set it aside, leaning in to kiss her on the lips.

  We must have had sex a hundred times already in the month since we started seeing each other, but every time I swear to god was better than the last. I pinned Allie down onto the couch and covered her body with mine, kissing her deeper, starting to touch her all over. I wanted to feel her skin against mine, I wanted to get my hands on her tits, I wanted to feel her pussy wrapped around my cock. I slipped my hands up under her tank top; Allie wasn’t wearing anything underneath, so in an instant I was cupping her full, firm tits, teasing her nipples with my thumbs, rubbing them as we started to move together. At first it was just making out, like horny teenagers going at it for the first time, not in a real hurry to get to the main event but heating up every moment our bodies were pressed together.

  Little by little, the clothes started to come off; I got tired of feeling Allie up under her shirt and broke away from her lips just long enough to pull it over her head, and she hauled my tee shirt up around my shoulders, pausing for a second until we could get untangled enough for her to take it off of me. It took a little longer for us to get to each other’s bottoms--my jeans and Allie’s shorts--but not that much longer. In minutes that felt like they might have been hours, we were both almost naked, touching each other everywhere, rubbing against each other like cats in heat.

  I could feel how wet Allie already was through the lacy fabric of her panties as I rubbed along her labia, stroking her. She moaned out, pushing her hips down, trying to get better contact with my fingers even as she started to rub my throbbing, aching cock through my boxers. “Fuck, sweetie,” I murmured against her neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin there. “I can already feel how hot you are.”

  “Stop wasting time, then,” Allie suggested, her voice breathless in my ears. “You can tell I want you.”

  “I want to make it last,” I told her. “If I--fuck--if I get inside you right now I’m going to lose it in minutes.” I hooked my fingers in the waistband of her panties and tugged them down over her hips. I wanted her--that much I was sure of--but I needed to take my time. I moved down over her body slowly, kissing and nibbling and licking and sucking. I stayed at her boobs for a while, worshipping her with my mouth, giving her a taste of what I was working towards. I looked up at her face as I moved down towards her hips; she was flushed, her eyes closed, her lips red and parted--she looked so fucking hot. I pulled her panties the rest of the way down and spread her legs wide, and breathed in the smell of her: just a little sweet under that sharp, clean, ocean scent.

  I buried my face against her pussy and fought the urge to grin to myself as Allie moaned out in reaction, pushing her hips down for better contact. I sucked and licked, nuzzling against her soaking wet folds, finding her clit with the tip of my tongue and barely missing it on purpose. I tried a trick Nick had mentioned once: I began forming the letters of the alphabet with my tongue, swiping the tip against her soaking wet skin in an A, a B, a C, all the way through until I got to S. Allie cried out, her hips bucking under me, and I felt her fingers tangling in my hair, her hands tugging at me.

  I kept it up, teasing her relentlessly, even as my cock throbbed against the couch cushions. I brought Allie to the edge of climax, over and over again for as long as I could stand it, reading the cues in the way her body tensed up, the sound of her moans and little cries of pleasure. I was so turned on by the smell, the taste, the feeling, the sound of her that after a while I actually thought I might die if I didn’t feel her wrapped around my cock; I thought if I didn’t get off, my balls might explode.

  I pulled back and at first Allie protested, opening her eyes and looking at me with disappointment. I chuckled and slithered up her body, claiming her mouth with mine, moving against her, shifting down between her hips. She caught on in a heartbeat and wrapped her legs around my waist, rubbing her soaking wet folds against my aching cock. It took everything I had not to come right then and there, but I held back, reaching down to guide myself up against her. I took a deep breath and thrust into her all at once, clamping down on how turned on I was, riding through the first wave of sensation as her muscles rippled around me, squeezing me like her body itself didn’t want to let me go.

  I started moving inside of her as soon as I could, rocking my hips, pulling out an inch--or two inches--and then pushing deeper and deeper inside of her. Allie fell into my rhythm right away, moving in perfect counterpoint to my beat, her hips twisting against mine and her pussy tightening around me as she came closer and closer to orgasm. I kept thrusting, kept the beat going for as long as I could, holding out for the huge climax I knew would hit me if I let it wait long enough.

  All at once, the tension deep down in my hips shattered, and wave after wave of pleasure washed through me, lighting up my nervous system. I felt the little twitches of Allie’s muscles spasm around my cock as she came too, moaning out; her fingernails digging into my back as I tried to keep it up as long as I possibly could.

  We both collapsed against the couch, panting and gasping, drenched in sweat when we finished, and I was already mentally ready for more by the time Allie’s breathing began to slow down. “Remember to talk to Alex,” she told me. I laughed and shook my head.

  “If you tell me that was on your mind while I was fucking you, I’m going to dump you right now,” I told her, kissing her on her lips so she wouldn’t--couldn’t--answer. It was a joke, but it was also the truth; I didn’t want to admit to myself how much truth was in it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A day or so later, I was in the studio again. According to Jules, Alex had stayed late the last time, listening to the tracks with Jack, going over everything. It was actually starting to look like we might have a real album to put out--and it was coming together before the label could think to ditch us, to pay us off and let us go.

  “Yo,” Nick said, coming into the live room where I was checking on my kit.

  “Think we’ll actually get anything done today?” I tightened one of the wingnuts on a cymbal. “Or do you think Alex is going to fuck around with vocals on that pet song of his?”

  “Ron’s come down on him pretty hard,” Nick pointed out. “More than the rest of us--more than you, and you’re the big reason we initially had such a fucking delay.” He grinned to show me he didn’t actually mean it--or at least, that if he meant it, he wasn’t taking the delay as a serious issue anymore. “So I think he’s doing all that fuckery after hours now.”

  “Good for him,” I said. I sat back and surveyed my kit. It hadn’t felt quite exactly right ever since I’d played the festival gig with Bent Bridges; it was familiar, and everything was the way I’d set it up, the way I’d always set it up, but I had the feeling like I was missing something. “Mary can’t be too pleased with that.”

  “I hear they’re fighting,” Nick said. He pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows. “By which I mean, Mary’s been bitching to Liv about it, and Liv’s been pointing out that Mary owes Alex some space after last month’s debacle at the treatment center.” For a while, Mary had had a job as Alex’s life coach, keeping him sober--or at least off of hard drugs, even if he still occasionally drank--on the label’s payroll. But she’d gotten tired of only having one client, and had managed to use her connections to get a new
job at a mental health facility once again.

  “Yeah, but that wasn’t her fault,” I pointed out to Nick. “She didn’t ask to be trapped in a week-long lockdown.”

  “Still,” Nick said with a shrug. “Whatever it is. Alex’s boxers are fucking bunching in his crack.” I rolled my eyes. That would make Allie’s suggestion that I talk to our lead singer one-on-one a little harder to follow through on.

  “Allie wants me to talk to Alex,” I told Nick. “She’s still spooked at Alex’s insistence that she only hooked up with me to get access to the band and pad her career.” Nick snorted and rolled his eyes.

  “You know, for a guy who doesn’t smoke weed anymore, he sure is fucking paranoid,” Nick said. He lit a cigarette and walked over to his gear, looking at it with almost the same amount of affection as I’d seen on his face when he looked at his girlfriend. “Liv is setting up to work with your girl, by the way--she’s keen to get started on the project. Maybe you can dodge both bullets and Allie will be too busy to even think about doing studio pics.”

  “Maybe,” I said, hoping against hope that that would be the case. It would sure as hell make my life that little bit easier.

  “You know, maybe you should talk to Lex,” Nick said after a moment of making sure that his guitars had come to no harm while he’d been away.

  “What do you mean?” I started checking to make sure I had enough fresh drumsticks to last through the session.

  “I mean, he’s being an asshole, but it’s kind of understandable,” Nick said. “You said it yourself months ago: everything is changing to fucking fast, none of us is really in control anymore. That bugs the shit out of Alex more than anything else in the world could.”

  “So, what is me talking to him supposed to accomplish?” I lit a cigarette of my own. Nick flicked ash off the tip of his into an ashtray and shrugged.