by Nora Flite
Pressed under his warmth, I wasn't... scared of him.
But I was scared for him.
One of my arms was trapped between us. The pulse of Drezden's heart trickled up my skin. Reaching out with my fingers, I hovered just in front of his jaw. I need to see if he's okay. “Drezden?” I whispered, voice scratchy. “Drez, wake up.”
The singer didn't budge.
My mouth tasted like batteries. The ends of my fingers quivered, desperately wanting to alight on his cheek. If I did, I'd risk breaking everything; that moment that could go on forever. A slice of time that allowed me to bask in the intensity that was Drezden Halifax, his beauty and heat, without turning into dribbling and useless chunks.
He might really be hurt, I realized. All at once, the tranquility vanished. With just the one free hand, I dropped it, clasping his bare shoulder. It was tepid, smooth as glass. “Drezden! Drezden, wake up! Are you alright? Talk to me!”
Breathing suddenly through his nose, the man cracked his eyes and looked at me. He might as well have been Medusa for how I stopped moving. “Why the hell are you touching me?” he asked softly.
Opening my lips, I found... nothing. No words. The situation had transformed and he was once more a fucking god of rock who spun perverse thoughts to life inside of me just by being near.
Just by being alive.
He shifted, hissing as he gripped his skull. His weight ground against me, rubbing jeans on my pelvis. The sensation was wonderfully awful. My lower belly danced, my tongue knotted.
Watching me, Drezden paused. The look in his eyes went from surprised to accusatory. I preferred the first expression by far.
I felt it, didn't I? I'd noticed it soon after he'd fallen on me. Distracting myself with his injury had served somewhat, but now... under the loaded gun of his hot gaze, his strong scent and moving body, I was all too aware of what was happening.
Drezden's cock was hard as a rock, and it was pushing into my hip.
My thighs tensed from holding the position I had for so long. I didn't dare move, though. The result of everything I'd been trying to deny was pinned between me and Drezden.
He adjusted again, slowly that time. The pressure of his hard-on rolling over me was torture. It was almost enough to make me want to find those guards again, just to let them beat me senseless.
To make me forget that Drezden Halifax...
Wanted me.
Tingles rose through my sternum. My nipples firmed in my bra, betraying me with their reaction. The small tents were obvious through the thin material. Sensing his attraction was doing things to me I wasn't ready for.
Oh fuck, what do I do? I thought wildly. Turning my chin, I stared at the wall where Drezden had hit his temple. I ripped my hand off of him, leaving it floating in the air uselessly. “Are—are you alright?” I choked out.
“I'm fine,” he said, knees spreading outside of my calves as he sat up. I still couldn't bring myself to look at him. His shade fell over me in the small space. “But I asked you something. Why the hell were you touching me?”
His question reminded me too pointedly of our tangled bodies. “I was worried you were really hurt. I—fuck, I'm sorry that I knocked us down."
Hard, callused fingers suddenly dug into my chin. Drezden twisted me, forcing me to look at him straight on. In his emerald depths, I saw my own lust-filled expression reflected. “You could have broken your fucking neck,” he hissed. “Let alone mine! Why do you always fight me so hard?”
A million reasons danced on the tip of my aching tongue. Because you turn my legs to mush, because you make me forget my name, because you scare the shit out of me with how you make me feel.
I could say none of them. “Because,” I croaked, “You keep treating me like I'm weak.”
Considering me, Drezden finally let me go. My jaw throbbed where he'd held me. “You'd prefer I treat you like something else?”
“Of course!” Disbelief flared in me. “I'm not your kid sister, okay? I get enough of that already in my life.”
His weight settling on me. Gasping, I writhed in spite of my situation. Was he intentionally grinding himself in between my legs? No, he couldn't be. He wouldn't. “You want me to start acting like we're the same?”
Only my still sputtering anger allowed me to speak so flatly. “Yeah, that'd be a nice start.”
Something threatening slid across his face, a hint beneath the surface at a part of Drezden I'd only glimpsed when he sang. “You couldn't handle that.”
Tension crawled up my spine. He was too serious, and it made my goosebumps stiff. With both my arms free, I grabbed at the wall and edge of the tub. The forewarning in Drez's tone, his words, advised me to escape
Easily, he pressed down on me. The back of my head bounced off the porcelain. It didn't hurt, but it left me stunned. His tank-top crushed against my bra, along the tops of my breasts. “What the fuck are you doing?” I gasped.
"You wanted me to stop coddling you like you might break,” he growled. "I'll do just that. And if you're as tough as you keep claiming, you'll be just fine. Because Lola, when I go all out?" His hands squeezed my shoulders like a vice, his breath brushing over my puckered lips. "Only the strong ones survive me."
My world was swimming. Even if I hadn't banged my head, I'd have been dazed. What is he saying? This is too much, too intimate. Being trapped under the firm, smoldering body of Drezden Halifax wasn't something I'd ever expected to encounter. I wish my heart would stop pounding! Licking my lips nervously, I said, “Drez, hey. I don't—you shouldn't be doing this.”
His eyebrow crawled upwards. “I haven't done anything yet.”
Yet, I thought, fighting down a wave of desire. Every second I spent with this man brought me closer to giving in. I was more excited than I'd been with anyone else in my life, but his threat stayed with me.
He was a sexual monster who was warning me what he could do.
And I was a virgin.
“Lola,” he whispered, and the sheer hunger in his voice made me clench my jaw and close my eyes. “What the hell is this, what are you doing to me?”
Doing to HIM? All I could do was shake my head. I moved so slow, trapped in a world of thick syrup. It was Drezden who was making this happen. There was no way I was causing it.
His expert fingers glided down my arms, as much as they could in our cramped confines. Lying across me, he rocked his hips; a single movement that made my pussy twitch.
I couldn't think, couldn't talk. Everything around me was made of Drezden. My ears sought him out, my nostrils drowned in his scent. I might have vanished entirely in that tub if he hadn't stiffened, then sat up.
Confused, I opened my eyes to see him looking at the door, straining as he listened. I understood why when a voice called out. “Drez? You in here?”
Porter, I realized.
In a whirlwind of limbs, the singer flew off of me. He didn't even look back, just darted out the door and shut it softly behind him. Our private world of wicked heat vanished. I was alone, it could have all been a drunken dream.
Blinking, I shifted my gaze up to the white ceiling. It was a perfect canvas for my mind; blank, featureless.
What just happened?
With my ear to the tub, I heard the metallic echoes of people speaking in the distance. The familiar rumble of Drezden, the baritone of Porter. I listened for some time, unsure what I should do next.
He was going to... to what? Recalling his fit body straddling me, I touched my fingers to my chest. The places he'd pressed against felt the same; that frustrated me, because I knew I'd changed somehow. Deep in my gut, a part of me had spread open, seeking what Drezden could bring.
And what's that? I asked myself cynically. A gigantic erection? I wanted to laugh, but remembering how obvious his arousal had been made my insides go electric.
Trailing my hand down my stomach, I scratched the junction of my thighs where his cock had been rubbing through his jeans on me. The reality was too much for me; gingerly, I sat up and
climbed from the tub.
I found my shirt, tugging it over my head. The mirror showed my pink face, my messy hair. Touching my lips, I wondered if he'd been thinking about kissing me. He'd forced me down, talked about testing if I could handle him and twisting my demand to be treated as an equal.
My whole neck burned as an idea occurred to me. How many women has he been with? He's twenty-one, it could be a lot. Thinking of the famous singer rolling around with tons of faceless women didn't help my mood.
Cracking the door open, I peered into the hall. The voices were still speaking, a friendly murmur towards the front of the bus. On unsteady legs, I darted out of the bathroom and dove through the curtain into the room I'd chosen. As alone as I could be on the bus, I dropped heavily onto my bed. My hands coiled in my hair, chin falling to my collar bone.
In a tight ball, I wedged myself into the corner where the frame met the wall. I wanted to shrink down, and at the same time, I wanted to go find Drez and press him to continue. I was itching to know what he would have done if we'd been left alone.
How could my life transform so much in one day? I asked myself. When I'd joined Four and a Half Headstones, I was sure it would be the biggest change in my life.
Now, with the musky flavor of Drezden Halifax in my nose, and the imprint of how his hands had felt on my naked skin...
I realized I couldn't have guessed how big a change it would be.
- Chapter Seven -
Drezden
I'm such a fucking idiot.
Though I smiled and nodded, leaning on the bus seat so casually while I listened to Porter ramble, my mind was elsewhere. It rested in a porcelain bathtub, trapped by the amazingly stupid decisions I'd made.
I really am a giant fucking idiot, I thought, watching Porter grin and pretending to chuckle at what he'd said. How could I have let it go so far? Lola had been challenging me in the bathroom. Then we'd ended up tangled together, her warm body searing against mine.
Tenderly, I touched the spot on my temple. I hoped it didn't bruise.
“Hey, hello?” Porter leaned in, waving his hand at me. “You alright Drez? You look out of it.”
You have no idea. But I just gave him an apologetic frown. “Sorry, been a long day.” I felt like I'd lived a whole year in Lola's presence. One long, torturous year. How could I wake up and do it all again?
“You're right, it's been stretching.” Standing with a yawn, he cracked his back with several loud pops. “I might just go hit the sack, myself. You seen Lola at all? She left, and I didn't see her when I was outside with Colt.”
Thinking of Lola's nearly exposed breasts, I balled my fists in my lap. “She came back a while ago. I think she's sleeping already.”
Porter's forehead ran with wrinkles. “Huh. Alright then. She's probably more exhausted than all of us. It's been a crazy day for her.”
My chin barely moved as I nodded. Porter was more right than he even knew. It turned a knife in me, guilt flooding my senses. Lola had experienced a day full of things she never imagined, and for some of those, I was to blame.
Glancing out the window, I squinted through the tinted glass. The guards were still there, the party only beginning to die down. I spotted the glow of garbage-can fires and wondered if the police would swing by to force the crowd to disburse.
The walk to my small room was short. I'd picked the one furthest down the hall, closest to the practice room. Passing by Lola's bed, unable to see inside, I struggled with my raging desire to shove through and finish what I'd begun.
Shoving aside my heavy, charcoal curtain, I let myself drop onto my mattress instead.
It was dark, I'd covered the small window in the wall with a slice of thick foam. My insomnia was bad enough as is, I hated the idea of the sun seeping through the glass before I was ready to wake up.
Sliding my shirt over my head, I dropped it carelessly. My belt would have come next, but when I touched the cold metal, I was assaulted by the memory of her heat.
In spite of myself, I sucked air through my teeth. Lola had squirmed under me, so warm and tender and soft all at once. Mostly soft, I mused. The hard-on I'd sported could have cut through my jeans.
At the time, when I'd found myself strewn across her, I'd stopped thinking about all the reasons I'd crafted to stay away. Her chest had thrummed against mine, heart stampeding. Feeling her, seeing her reactions and knowing I had to be the cause, I'd just... I'd started to give in.
Lola had made it too easy. Grinding under me, her blue eyes so wide and unsure, I'd sensed her hunger as clearly as she'd felt my massive erection.
I'd wanted to crush my mouth on hers until she either begged me to keep going or pleaded with me to stop. Which one did I want from her? I gave my head a shake. That porcelain tub had been so perfect.
It had doomed me.
I told myself to stay away from her. The danger of sleeping with Lola is obvious! Scowling, I ripped my jeans down to my ankles. The engorged bulge in my boxers was a constant reminder that my rational thought didn't exactly agree with the rest of me.
Lying back on my bed, I stared at the ceiling. There would be no key there to crack this puzzle. Still, I stared, unblinking. If I wondered about her wanting me, now I know the truth. My cock gave a sympathetic throb.
The way she clung to me when I saved her from the guards... and the way she touched me when she thought I was hurt... It shouldn't have been insignificant. Instead, it all cemented my desire to get closer to Lola Cooper.
Shutting my eyes, I recalled again how she had trouble meeting my gaze. How she'd turned so red, writhing beneath me, my erection grinding on her belly.
Fuck, I'd wanted to kiss her so bad. Reaching up, I dragged my fingertips over my lips. If Porter hadn't shown up, making me worry about getting caught, I don't think I would have stopped. I would've given in, dropped the walls and taken a bite out of Lola Cooper.
My fingers crushed against my mouth violently. I'm awful, a fucking monster. I'd risk ruining my future—the band's future—by taking what I want from her.
If I let myself give in and had my way with Lola, she'd probably hate me after. Every woman I slept with eventually did. I couldn't balance sex and my career before, why would now be different?
She'd probably quit the band.
My muscles turned to lead at the idea. Inhaling deeply, I thought I could still smell her in my nose—and I wanted that. I longed for more of her, every single inch she had to give me.
I was selfish.
And I knew it.
Tracing my stomach, the crevices of abdominals, I cupped the shape of my raging hard-on. Fine, I'm selfish. I'm greedy and terrible and all I want is to taste Lola's sweet pussy. To hear her gasp and fucking scream because my cock is stretching her to the brink.
Squeezing the head of my cock through my boxers, I moaned. It was true. All of it was true.
But if I gave in to my desire for this blue-eyed woman, everything would crumble. Not just the band, though that was a real issue. Not just my relationship with Lola; but my ability to hold back.
Once I went after Lola, there was no stopping. I didn't do things in half-measures. When I wanted something, I took it. It became mine.
If I'd just kept things professional, it would have been fine. I could have controlled myself. Then she'd yanked me down into the tub, and everything had changed.
A thick growl rose in my throat. Dipping my hand under my boxers, I traced the hot skin of my prick. It was painfully erect, as tense and strained as my mind was.
Lola was all I could see in my head. Her stunned face, her exquisite fingers. My ears flooded with the memory of the music she played. I was desperate to make her create a new song for me. A song made from the notes of her breathing, punctuated by her sobs and passionate moans.
I wanted to make Lola Cooper into a part of me. And I could have fucking resisted that, if I hadn't landed on her in that bathroom tub. If she hadn't caressed my head in worry.
If she hadn
't cared.
Panting softly, I pumped my fist over my cock. The strokes weren't slow, they lacked the control I felt represented me. Lola was seeping into everything I was. Even now, in private, my composure was wrecked due to her.
My teeth barely bit off a grunt. If I'd just stayed away, not saved her, not helped or touched or seen or smelled or... or... or... A quiver of electric delight danced in my lower belly. It mixed with the last bit of my resolve.
If I had just never met Lola Cooper...
I wouldn't need to have her so badly.
Shuddering, the pressure built in my balls. My tight fist coerced me, demanding I crash over the edge of release. My muscles twitched, a spasm so strong it left me dazzled. As I sprawled there, sweat coating my flesh and sin tainting my thoughts, I had one final burst of clarity before toppling over into the tingling realm of orgasm.
I'm such a fucking idiot.
Crying out, muffling the sound with my pillow, I came all over my pumping fingers. The explosion was so violent I had to use my other palm to keep my sheets clean. Hot flashes thumped in my temples. The release was glorious, but it was missing something important.
Her.
In the backs of my eyelids, colors danced. Among the dots, I saw Lola's perfect face. She might not know what was in store for her, but I didn't care. Not anymore. All I wanted was her.
And I knew she wanted me.
I would do everything I could to make her mine. As long as she was in my band, there was security in knowing I had plenty of time to make it all happen.
Opening my eyes, I looked at the ceiling again. I imagined Lola, and I wondered if she was doing the same. Was I haunting her tonight, too?
When I fell asleep, I dreamed of sapphire eyes, bandaged elbows, and the first notes of No More Stars when played by someone who understood what the song really meant.
It was a song that began with a warning. If I'd done anything to Lola, any favor at all... I'd tried to warn her away from me. In every glare, in every brisk word, I'd shown her what was under my surface. What I was.
But it hadn't been enough. She'd gotten close to me whether she'd planned it or not.