Hooked

by Nicole Howard

  “Maggie, nothing that happens between us leaves this house.” Trent’s eyes burned into mine, showing me his desperation. “Promise me?”

  “I won’t say anything.”

  Trent pushed open the door to the master bedroom, tugging me behind him. “Good, because I really want to see you naked right now.” I complied, pulling the dress over my head. Trent removed his shirt before unbuttoning his shorts, his erection tenting his boxer briefs.

  “Ca…Can I…Can I touch you?” Stupid stutters, always resurfacing with my nerves. I wanted to be confident and brave. Without waiting for an answer, I dropped to my knees in front of him, my shaking hands finding his waistband and releasing him. I wrapped my lips around his erection, ignoring the mounting doubts.

  “Just like that.” Trent’s hands tangled in my hair, his pelvis thrusting into my mouth, controlling the pace. “Look at me gorgeous.” I lifted my eyes to meet his, overwhelmed by how many firsts were happening in quick succession. “Can I fuck you?” I nodded.

  Trent pulled out of my mouth and lifted me from the floor. “On the bed, Maggie.” It was happening. I did it. Climbing onto the bed, I laid on my back, opening my legs for Trent to climb between. He reached across my body, retrieving a condom from the drawer of the nightstand. I watched him with interest, as he tore open the package and slid the latex into place.

  It might have made sense to warn Trent that I was a virgin, but I didn’t want anything to ruin the moment. I couldn’t risk him stopping and my plan imploding, so I let him press against my entrance. I stayed quiet through the burning and stretching, biting my lip to deal with the pain. If Trent noticed, he didn’t let on. He rocked in and out, his pace slow until my body began reacting.

  “You’re tight, princess.” He groaned, dropping one hand down to circle my clit. “Feels so good.” Between the borderline pleasurable thrusts, his fingers, and his mouth, my body was climbing toward a second orgasm.

  “Harder!” I screamed, begging for him to get me there. “So…close.”

  “There we go, baby.” Trent picked up the pace, slamming into me until I reached the peak. He followed, arching my body off the bed to pound deeper.

  Maybe I should have left after that, I mean the deed was done. I had proved my mother wrong. But I didn’t. No, instead of leaving, I ignored the discomfort and slept with Trent again, before falling asleep in his arms. Sex was incredible. I don’t know what I had been waiting for, and I was going to enjoy Trent’s body until the very last second.

  I had information Trent didn’t. My mother was coming home early. The Spa was closing for the week, scheduled annual maintenance, so their weekend was cut short. I remembered my mother complaining about it the last time I was home, but Trent seemed to be oblivious. The fact that he couldn’t seem to get enough of my eighteen-year-old body, made things way too easy.

  Trent had finished barbecuing chicken for lunch, wearing only a pair of shorts while I wore his T-shirt. I nibbled on the chicken and salad, waiting the right moment. If I acted too early, my grand finale would be a bust. Trent reached under the table with one hand, while using the other to fork food into his mouth. His fingers traced along my thigh, seeking the warmth between my legs. I parted them enough to give him access.

  “Again?” Though my question was innocent, I was banking on it.

  “Get over here.” Not needing to be asked twice, I stood and straddled his lap. Trent slipped his hands under the cotton shirt, palming my breasts.

  “I’m going to get your shorts wet.” Trent dropped his hands to his shorts, unfastening them and releasing himself.

  “Sit, babe.” I ground against him, avoiding penetration, waiting for the tell-tale sound of the tires hitting gravel. Trent was impatient, grabbing my hips and thrusting into me. “Ride me, princess.” Keeping my movements slow and shallow, I controlled the pace. He wasn’t wearing a condom, but it didn’t matter. Trent wouldn’t be getting off if things worked out as planned. I kissed his lips, doing my best to distract him. With the first crunch of gravel from car tires, I picked up the pace, causing him to moan against my mouth. “That’s it. Just like that.”

  “Fuck me, Trent.” I whispered in his ear, as I watched the top of my mother’s head bob just above the kitchen window. “Tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had.”

  “Jesus Christ, Maggie. That was the best sex I’ve ever had.” Trent’s hands were guiding me up and down, slamming me against his thighs, driving himself deeper. “Best. Fuck. Ever.”

  As Trent chanted, I watched my mother stand in the doorway, her mouth gaping open.

  “Oh, hello mother.” I greeted, causing Trent to stop mid-thrust. With her husband still inside me, I deadpanned, “You know, I think you may have been wrong about me. Your husband can’t seem to get enough.”

  Funny thing. I haven’t seen my mother or her husband since I climbed off Trent, grabbed my bag off the counters, and thanked him for a great weekend.

  ***

  I know I shouldn’t be amused, given the severity of the situation we’ve all been thrown into. After all, I could shoulder virtually all the blame, considering I not only left Ally alone but had pushed her into Luke’s arms for months. How was I supposed to know he was a douche? Or that he was capable of landing her in the hospital? Aside from interacting with their penises, guys aren’t really my thing and after seeing Ally lie in a hospital bed, stitched from head to toe, I’m handing in my matchmaking card too.

  Anyway, back to the humor that is my current entertainment, I am most definitely amused. I’d challenge you to stand here in my shoes and not be. Two larger than life rockstars and one unhappy Kenzie equal an event of epic proportions. Lost, are the two men lacking experience with toddler temper tantrums. Found, are a pair of men darting from room to room, crisscrossing Ally’s tiny apartment, in search of the “magic potion”. They’re so absorbed, they’ve failed to realize that I’ve let myself in or that I’m doubled over with laughter in the doorway.

  “Need any help, boys?” With my foot, I kicked the door shut and made my way to the ringleader of the circus. “What’s with the drama, Kenz?” Her arms reached for me, ready to distance herself from the clueless duo. “When was the last time she had a nap?”

  “Um…” Ian scratched the back of his neck, his cheeks reddening.

  “Nap? Oh hell, we forgot about naps.” Justin dropped to the couch, spreading his legs and slumping against the cushions. “Well, Ian forgot about naps. He’s the one in charge of the details. I’m just here to be the fun one. You know, the cool uncle.”

  “Uncle, huh?” I swayed from side to side with Kenzie in my arms, giving enough time for the sobs to subside before attempting to put her down for a nap. “You want to try naptime then, Uncle Justin?”

  “No. No.” Kenzie protested, rubbing her eyes.

  “What part of ‘cool uncle’ did you miss, princess?” Justin winked. Ian rolled his eyes.

  “Don’t call me princess.” I huffed, frustrated that I needed to tell him twice. “Let’s go read a story, Kenz. We have better things to do than waste our time with these boys.” Kenzie cuddled into me as I carried her into her bedroom. There was little protest as I laid her in the crib and picked out a storybook. Leaning over the railing of the crib, I read the words slowly, keeping my tone soft and quiet, hoping I could lull her to sleep. I was hesitant to look at her while reading, worried her gorgeous blue eyes would be trained on me instead of drifting off into Lalaland. When I closed the book, I held my breath expecting to find wide blueberry eyes but found an adorable, sleeping toddler.

  “Is she sleeping?” Ian asked as he tidied the living room, collecting the toys strewn around the floor. I nodded. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. Napping. So obvious.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You guys are doing fine. Consider this as a crash course in parenting, or a marketing ploy for birth control.” I laughed harder than acceptable at my own joke. Ian smiled and shook his head, while Justin’s eyes were closed
as he rested on the couch. “I’m going to run out and pick up some food for you two while she’s sleeping. What would you like?” My question was directed at Ian, the only conscious person in the room.

  “You don’t have to do that. I can just order something.”

  “Pizza, you mean? Because that’s about the only place that will deliver around here, and it’s not as if you can just run out and grab something without being noticed.” I snuck another glance at Justin, who was still out of it. “So, what do you want? There’s a Thai place about fifteen minutes away. Or fried chicken.”

  “Thai sounds good to me.” Ian relented, tossing the final armload of toys into a basket. “Any sort of curry works for me.”

  “Fried chicken. I hate Thai.” Justin’s eyes popped open. “I’ll come with you.”

  “No, thanks. I’m fine on my own.” No way was he coming with me. Being alone in the car would encourage talking and the chances of Justin not bringing up the encounter in the hospital were non-existent. Reminiscing was not my style. I’m a live and let die kind of girl. “So, chicken or Thai? You’ve got about thirty seconds to make up your mind because I’m calling in the order.” To prove my threat was anything but empty, I pulled out my phone and opened the browser.

  “Chicken’s fine.” Ian conceded. “Just chicken and fries are fine.”

  “Okay. Justin?” Avoiding eye contact, I focused on my phone, searching for the phone number of the restaurant.

  “What do they have?”

  “Chicken!” I snapped.

  “He’ll have chicken and fries too.” Ian stated. “God, Justin, the girl is willing to pick up food. Be easy for once.”

  “Two orders of chicken and fries. Got it. I’ll be back in about thirty minutes. Kenzie should sleep for an hour or two, so you’ll be good while I’m gone.” I pressed the link on their website to dial the number and place the order while I walked to the parking lot. I was halfway to my car before I realized I had company.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I need to get out of that shoebox for a bit.”

  “Then go for a walk. Tag-alongs aren’t my thing.” Justin ignored me, climbing into the passenger’s seat of my car.

  “Then consider me your excuse to drive in the carpool lane.”

  “Ha! You do realize where we are, right? Carpool lanes don’t exist around here.”

  “Okay, then consider me your entertainment.”

  “Whatever.” I relented with a huff. Obviously, he wasn’t listening to me anyway.

  “Is it your typical M.O. to screw random guys in closets?” Justin leaned across the console to adjust the radio station.

  “What if it is?” I challenged. Who was he to talk? I’d seen the gossip rags. His reputation trumped mine tenfold.

  “Hmmm…” Through my peripheral, I caught him running a hand through his long hair. “Do the backseats of cars work too?”

  “Ah, but you see, you’re no longer random.” The key to one and dones was to walk away and move on.

  “Trust me, Princess, I’ll always be random.”

  Chapter 2

  Bait

  Justin

  “You!” I pointed to the blonde dancing among the masses in the middle of the dance floor. Dozens of heads snapped in my direction. Her blue eyes widened with the realization that I was talking to her. “Come on.” I crooked my finger once before turning to leave. She’d follow. They always followed.

  “Hi.” She stammered, her stilettos clicking against the concrete floor of the club. “I’m…”

  “Doesn’t matter.” I might be an asshole, but I’m an honest asshole. Her name would fall on deaf ears. If I’m confessing my sins, in a week or two, I wouldn’t even remember her face. That’s how I lived my life. Uncomplicated. Simple. Single.

  “Right.” Her cheeks reddened, but that didn’t stop her from following me to the blacked-out SUV parked just outside the building. “Where are we going?”

  “Hotel.” Sometimes I wondered how many of these girls ignored their safety for one chance encounter with a celebrity.

  “Awesome.” Blondie’s bleached white smile widened. “Interested in a warm-up?” She licked her blood-red lips while focusing on my hardening dick. I nodded, shifting my legs wider and unfastening my jeans. Closing my eyes, I rested my head against the headrest. No doubt the driver was leering through the rear-view mirror, watching the back of the blonde’s head bobbing in my lap.

  By the time the SUV pulled in front of the hotel the blonde was wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, leaving me relaxed and satisfied for the evening. No need to drag her up to the room only to kick her out an hour or two later. I’d skip that drama any day.

  “Hey, Mick.” I shimmied my jeans back into place and fastened the button. “Can you take her wherever she needs to go?”

  The blonde’s mouth gaped open, before settling into a pout. “But I thought…”

  “I said we were going to the hotel. We’re here.” I opened my door and stepped out into the night, taking advantage of her shock to make my escape. “Thanks, Princess. Best night of my life.” The well-rehearsed line fell from my lips as I leaned in and blew her a kiss. “Night Mick.”

  My life hadn’t always been this way. Quite the opposite. Actually, I spent most of my youth repelling every single member of the opposite sex. A social life, a sex life, hell, even a moderately interesting life – I didn’t have any of those. No, Justin Thompson was the only child of two parents that were more familiar with calculators than vibrators. Do you remember that kid with the thick-lensed glasses, blunt bowl cut, wearing the plaid bow tie for third-grade pictures? Yeah, well I was that kid in the ninth grade.

  “You’re alone tonight!” One of the security guards stated as I walked through the front doors and into the lobby. Unlike most of our stays, this hotel was managing security well, keeping the common areas free from uninvited fans.

  “Yep. Are Ian and Tim upstairs?” My question was rhetorical. Ever since Ally resurfaced with a baby in tow, Tim was either on stage or in his hotel room, pathetically waiting for the next flight back home, to his family.

  “I think they’re both in the suite.” I nodded and hit the call button for the elevator.

  “What are you guys up to?” Tim and Ian swung their heads in my direction as I walked through the door.

  “You’re early tonight. Did you strike out?” Ian asked, surprised by my presence.

  “I never strikeout.” I puffed my chest, my ego too big for the room. Not something I was ashamed of. “She finished me off on the drive here.”

  “Classy J.” Tim shook his head in disgust.

  “Don’t give me that look. You can’t pretend you were always an angel just because you’re a family man now.” It wasn’t the first time Tim and I had thrown barbs at each other over my social life. Lately, it had been happening so often that Ian had become a natural buffer, dousing arguments before they could catch fire.

  “Okay geniuses, angelic and Rockstar will never go hand in hand, so just shut up and sit down.” Ian pulled out the chair next to him, gesturing for me take a seat. I stayed standing. “Tim and I have been trying to organize a schedule for rehearsals. For in-between tour dates and stuff.” Ian explained, motioning to the calendar sitting on the table.

  “Is Tim going to have time for rehearsals now?” My tone was gruffer than I intended, but seriously, Tim’s focus on the band has been wavering over the past couple of months, and now that he and his girlfriend were playing house, chances are, it wouldn’t improve.

  “What the fuck ever, Justin.” Tim stood up, pushing his chair backward. “Why are you giving me such a hard time?”

  “Enough.” Ian raised his hands, putting some space between us. “If you would be quiet long enough to hear us out, then you would know the answer to that.” I stepped back and raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to fill me in. “Tim’s putting a recording studio in the basement of their house.”

  “And bedrooms.�
�� Tim interjected.

  “Right, and bedrooms so that we have a place to stay while we are writing or rehearsing. That way we can work, and Tim can be home. It’s a win-win. I can’t think of a reason why it would be a problem since neither you nor I have anything rooting us to one place.”

  “Speak for yourself.” I countered, without anything to back up my objection.

  “Do you have somewhere else you need to be?” Ian asked, pointedly.

  “What about my social life? It’s not like I’ll be able to bring anyone home to your basement. Not without Ally tearing me a new one.”

  “Then get a hotel room when you want to screw someone.” Tim shouted. “Stop being an ass just to be an ass.”

  “Jesus… Fine. We’ll rehearse at Tim’s.”

  “Okay.” Ian smiled. “Now that that’s settled, let’s work on a schedule.”

  ***

  Everyone has at least one person in their life that they never want to lay eyes on again. When your hatred runs so deep, you avoid them at all costs, because the risk of you bashing their head in is real. I might be exaggerating. Despite my image, I don’t have a violent bone in my body. But I can’t deny those thoughts haven’t crossed my mind. I’m human. With our lifestyle, constantly in the public eye, we don’t have control over the people who cross our path and on those special days, when the stars align and the tour closes in on my hometown, familiar faces pop up often.

  I accepted early on that the annoying blasts from the past came with the territory. It blew my mind how those who never gave me the time of day growing up, expected to be welcomed backstage with open arms. The only V.I.P. experience they received was the ‘Justin Thompson go fuck yourself while security escorts you off the premises’ special. It was enough to satisfy my need for retribution.

  My best ‘fuck you’ moment to date was by far the time my high school bully was the one looking for the handout. Claire Matthews, a leggy brunette, stood in line, outside of the arena, holding a sign reading ‘I want to get Hazed’. Just seeing her standing there brought back painful memories.