Jam grinned, fluffing her tousled curls. She looked stunning as always. “Okay, so remember how I told you and my brother we met when I interviewed them for WSEA-9? Jamie said.
“Yeah,” Kensie nodded, shoving her foot into a pair of strappy Louboutin’s.
“That wasn’t exactly the truth. We actually met at the Rabbit Hole, the bar we’re going to tonight. I was with Lo—”
“—so you were drunk,” Kensie supplied. She wasn’t jealous of Lorena. Okay, maybe just a little.
“Yes, smart ass. Anyway, I was trying to fight the attraction to him all night, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him,” Jamie explained. “His stage presence was electric, he had the entire crowd captivated, hanging on his every word, his every note. I had to have him, scratch lead singer off my fuck-him list, ya know,” she winked.
“I knew every girl in the bar was thinking the same thing and I was kind of a bitch to him when he approached me earlier in the night, so I needed to do something big. I wasn’t leaving that bar without feeling him inside me.”
Kensie bit down on her bottom lip. She didn’t realize how tightly her thighs were pressed together. She’d never admit it, but she loved hearing all about Jam’s conquests. Of course, she had Trey and their lovemaking was great, but Kensie always wondered what it would feel like to be fucked.
“So, how’d you do it?” Kensie breathed, heat rising from her core. She didn’t know if it was the skimpy dress or the details of Jam’s latest conquest that made her so flush, but she did know the only man who could extinguish the flame burning inside her was doing God knows what in Las Vegas.
“I walked up to the stage and flashed him,” Jam said proudly.
“WHAT?” Kensie shrieked. She knew her best friend was a go-getter but she had no idea she was that brazen.
“Yep. It was insane. We didn’t even make it out of the bar, we fucked in the back office.”
“You had sex in a dirty office?” Kensie blushed.
“With the bartender.”
Oh my god. Kensie, thought. What was she getting herself into?
A pang of fear poured through Kensie’s veins as the Uber driver pulled up in front of the small brick building. Had it not been for the line outside the door, she would have sworn the place was abandoned. “Are you sure this is safe?” Kensie questioned, tempted to have the car take her back to their apartment.
“Yes, Kensie. Do you really think I would bring you somewhere that wasn’t safe?”
Kensie thought about it for a moment; as wild and carefree as Jamie was, she’d always been fiercely protective of her best friend.
“Alright Manning, let’s just go before I change my mind.”
A chill ran down Kensie’s spine as they exited the Uber. She couldn’t tell if it was caused by the cool breeze that greeted them as they stepped onto the street or if it was how uncomfortable she felt in the red dress riding dangerously high up her thighs.
“They must be pretty good,” she commented, noting the growing line. “I wonder how long we’ll have to wait?”
“Hmf,” Jam snorted. “Fuck waiting, we’re VIP, babe.” Jamie walked right up to the bouncer, bypassing the line entirely. He was the largest man Kensington had ever seen, six foot six and all muscle.
His grim face lit up with amusement upon seeing Jamie. “Hey, Kitty Cat,” he smiled, waving them forward, despite the groans from the crowd. “Who’s your friend?” He eyed Kensie up and down, pausing at the strappy, black Louboutins on her feet. Apparently, he missed the don’t eye fuck the patrons, class in bouncer school.
“Kensie, this is Tee,” Jam introduced, trying and failing to stifle her laugh. “Tee, this is my best friend, Kensington. I’m popping her Rabbit Hole cherry.”
Kensie shot her best friend a look that said, please don’t encourage him. After all, she has a boyfriend.
“Hurry the fuck up,” someone yelled angrily from the line.
Heat crept up her neck. She was sure her face was now as red as the dress currently painted on her body.
Taking her by the hand, Jamie led Kensie inside. The bar was much bigger than she thought. It was dark and the wooden panels covering the walls were painted blood red and plastered with various posters for live shows and upcoming events. The Rabbit Hole’s claim to fame was a skee-ball tournament held every Tuesday night.
There was no wait at the bar. The show was in full swing, and most people were already down by the stage. “I need a drink!” Kensie yelled over the music.
“What would you like, princess?” Jam asked, snagging two empty barstools.”
Kensie thought for a moment. She hadn’t been to a place like this since college, she was wearing a tight red dress that left little to the imagination, and she missed her boyfriend desperately. There was only one thing that could salvage this night. “Tequila.”
“Tequila it is.” Jamie smirked.
An hour and four shots later, Kensie was relaxed and curious to learn more about the men on stage. “The band is decent. What’s their name?”
“Lithium Springs,” Jamie said, wistfully. Kensie could practically see hearts in her eyes. Jamie was normally the love ‘em and leave type of girl, but this was new. Nice. Strange, but if anyone deserved love, it was Jamie. Seeing her so in love with this Ryder was strange-- nice-- but strange.
“Wanna dance?” she asked, pointing toward the stage.
“Hell yes.” Jam jumped off her stool and dragged Kensie through the crowd until they reached the front. There was no room to move, forget dancing, Kensie was just trying to stay on her feet.
The music was intense. Kensie understood what Jam had been trying to explain earlier. The way they commanded the stage, she couldn’t keep her eyes off them. It didn’t hurt that they were all gorgeous.
The lead singer, Jam’s Ryder, was tall and slim and covered in tattoos. He was shirtless, revealing the two shiny metal bars that pierced each of his nipples, and his black skinny jeans hung dangerously low on his hips.
The bassist was equally as handsome and equally as tatted. His light brown skin glistened with sweat as his fingers deftly plucked at the strings on his bass guitar.
Behind them, partially hidden behind a drum kit, was the most beautiful man Kensington had ever laid eyes on. If the other two men were kings, this man was a god. His face was perfection. The light brown hair covering his jaw matched the curly, brown tendrils peeking out from under his black baseball cap. His strong arms were covered with brightly colored tattoos, intricately interwoven together to tell a story, his story.
But as good as all that was, the best part of him, the part that had Kensie weak-kneed and breathless, was his eyes. Those mysterious blue orbs bore straight into her soul and left her feeling more exposed than the red fuck’em dress ever could.
She stood there, statue stiff, as the sounds of the final guitar riff crescendoed. The crowd swayed, a sea of sweaty bodies propelled her forward until she was pinned against the stage.
She couldn’t move.
She couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t help the moisture pooling between her legs.
The skimpy thong she wore under her dress was drenched. The tiny swath of fabric was no match for her wetness.
“Kensie. Kensington! Let’s go,” Jam screamed, shaking her out of her daze. The music stopped and Ryder thanked the crowd for coming out, reminding everyone to download their latest EP. She took a moment to regain her composure before turning to look at her friend.
Go?
Just as Kensie was preparing to protest, Trey’s face flashed in her mind. Yes, she needed to get the fuck out of there. She needed air. She needed to put some distance between her and her blue-eyed tormentor. She needed new panties.
Kensie followed Jam to the back of the bar. Her head was spinning. She was so preoccupied with trying to figure out what the fuck that was back there, she didn’t notice Jam following the large bouncer from before. She didn’t question him leading them out the side door, and
she didn’t question climbing into the waiting van. She didn’t know when Jam called the Uber but she was glad to see it.
“That was intense,” Kensie breathed.
“I know, right?” Jam agreed distractedly. Her eyes locked on the door.
“Why aren’t we moving?” Kensie questioned, realizing for the first time that no one was in the driver’s seat. Her heart was pounding. She looked to her friend, the friend who came here with every intention of introducing her to the lead singer of the band they just watched perform. “Jam?”
Even in the dark alley, Kensie saw Jamie’s eyes light up. Her breath caught in her throat as the side door swung open once again. She felt his presence long before she ever saw his face. Ryde exited the club first, then the bassist, and then him, the drummer with the eyes that caused her soul to shake.
“Jam?” she repeated. The van door opened and Ryder pulled Jamie up from her place next to Kensie and redirected her to the back row, winking at her as he gave her friend a firm smack on the ass.
The bassist was at the door next, looking at her like she was something to eat. “I’m Javi,” he extended his hand, his voice dripped with sex.
Before she could reply, she heard him, his deep voice just as intoxicating as the rest of him. “Back off, homie,” he growled, grabbing Javi by the shoulders. “She’s mine.”
Kensie knew she should protest. They were fighting over who gets dibs, like she wasn’t even there, like she wasn’t a person, just a snack to be devoured.
Javi looked at Kensie longingly and sighed, “you’re lucky it’s your birthday, mother fucker.”
His birthday.
She committed the date to memory and instantly hated herself for it. She hated the way her traitorous body reacted when he’d called her his, hated the rush she felt as he climbed in the van and sat next to her, completely invading her personal space. Their legs touched and he draped his arm lazily around her small frame and pulled her into his side.
She fit perfectly, like she was made for him.
Jam giggled behind her. Javi jumped in the front passenger seat and the bouncer, Tee, got in the driver’s side.
She knew she needed to break the contact. She knew she needed to get the hell out of there before she did something she would regret, but instead, she looked up at the man absently rubbing circles on her knee and whispered, “I’m Kensie.”
“CT,” he grinned.
Her poor thong never stood a chance.
Kensie should have liberated herself from CT’s arms, but his touch paralyzed her. His strong body made her feel safe, his bright tattoos were mesmerizing. He was like a Calla Lily, gorgeous, but toxic, and 100% likely to cause a rash. She’d always been the careless one, and she couldn’t deny the affect he had on her.
God, she was an awful person. Trey was loving, and kind, and he trusted her. Yet, there she was having illicit thoughts about a complete stranger.
“Everything ok?” CT asked, noticing the shift.
“I have a boyfriend.” Kensie admitted, biting down on her lip. She hated herself for saying it, then hated herself for wishing she hadn’t. She loved Trey.
She was in love Trey.
“I’m not trying to be your boyfriend,” he smirked, bringing his thumb to her mouth, gently wiggling her bottom lip free. His words stung, although she wasn’t sure why. She was in love with Trey.
“Good.” Kensie shifted, trying to put as much distance between them as the cramped space would allow.
“Not so fast.” CT hauled her back under his arm. His hand ghosted up the hem of her dress, higher and higher. “This is short,” he said, more to himself than to her. His face burrowed into the side of her neck, while his beard tickled the soft skin there.
“I have a boyfriend,” she gasped as his teeth grazed her ear. The move sent her heart into convulsions.
“Tonight, I’ll be the one fucking you.”
Kensie pressed her lips into a thin line. She couldn’t let the small moan forming in her throat escape; she couldn’t encourage him. “Listen,” she whispered once she’d forced the moan back to where it came from. “I know you’re probably used to girls throwing themselves at you but you’re barking up the wrong tree. I have a boyfriend and he’s the only one who gets to fuck me.”
A smile danced on CT’s lips, amusement twinkled in his eyes. He was trying not to laugh and he was failing miserably. The cocky bastard had the audacity to laugh in her face and it pissed Kensington off.
Anger was good. The anger coursing through her veins helped suppress the lust that nearly consumed her seconds ago. Kensie wiggled out from under his long arm and gave him a hard shove. CT fell onto the seat, laughing hysterically on his way down.
“Care to tell us what’s so funny?” Javi inquired from the front seat.
“Nothing,” he croaked, regaining composure. He righted himself and returned his arm to its home around Kensie’s neck. “You’re funny,” he whispered, his mouth on her ear. His warm breath sent a chill down her spine.
“And you’re a pig,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. She was going for incensed, but feared she came off as insolent.
“So, where is this boyfriend of yours tonight, and why was he stupid enough to let you out of the house in this?” he asked, slipping his hand back up her thigh.
Kensie should have moved it, but they were trapped in a moving vehicle, so it was pointless. He just kept coming back, that’s what she told herself anyway.
“His brother is getting married; they’re in Vegas for his bachelor party.”
“I should send his brother a thank you gift then.” CT gently massaged her leg.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
His hand crept up, centimeter by centimeter, until it reached the edge of her thong. The arm around Kensie’s shoulder pulled her closer until their foreheads met. “These are drenched.”
There it was again, the moan threatening to break free. She bit down on her bottom lip, hoping to keep it at bay. This man was more intoxicating than the tequila she guzzled earlier.
She didn’t mean to part her legs; it was her body reacting to the sensual torment. CT’s fingers tugged at the useless material covering her, twisting and turning before releasing it with a soft thud. She was his instrument and he played her masterfully.
“I have a boyfriend.” It was a plea and thankfully her prayers were answered. The car lurch to a stop and Kensie released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The overhead lights sprang to life, illuminating the cabin of the van. Slowly, so deliriously slow, CT withdrew his hand from between her legs. “Do you get this wet for him?” he asked, his voice low, garbled.
Don’t encourage him Kensington.
Don’t encourage him.
Don’t.
“No,” she breathed.
Coming Spring 2018
Lithium Waves: A Lithium Springs Novel Page 29