Replay: An Off Track Records Novel
Page 25
“Yes, ma’am.” His lips crash to mine. Strong. Gentle. Urgent. He’s all this and more. My body sparks alive with a yearning that’s been building all day. Doesn’t matter we just did this last night, or we don’t have the privacy of a bedroom. I want him. Now. The desire to sink onto his cock and fall apart increases with every move of his mouth. I sweep my tongue into his mouth and release a moan.
“Jayla,” Austin reaches for my waist.
On instinct I push against his chest to create space between us. My gaze finds his. The touch of his hands should’ve scattered the lust from my mind, but it doesn’t. My pulse speeds under the understanding in his stare. He doesn’t push. He also doesn’t stop looking at me as if I’m his favorite dessert.
“I’m good,” I whisper. I don’t try to hide my vulnerability. “Don’t stop.”
He nods and a slight smile draws his lips up as he kisses me again. Before we get carried away he pulls back and catches my stare. “I want to try something.” There’s an unspoken question in his words. Do you trust me?
He waits until I offer a slight nod, and then tentatively grazes my hip with his hand. He moves, and with a shuffle of feet he moves me backward. My butt hits the sink’s counter and before I can question, Austin drops to his knees.
His hands skim up the sides of legs, over my thighs, across my hips, and to the button on my slacks. His stare asks for permission, or maybe he’s gauging my reaction.
My body heats with desire under his stare, and in them he must find what he needs. He removes my pants. My socks. My underwear. His movements are reverent, focused and measured, and with a gentleness that makes me feel precious. Next, he reaches back and pulls his shirt over his head with one hand.
I greedily take in the sight of him. He kneels before me as if he’s ready to worship my body, and my pulse speeds with anticipation. I don’t do this. I like to have control. I need it. And yet, the way Austin positioned us, I don’t feel caged in or fearful.
His hand skims up the inside of my leg, and he presses open my thigh so his face is directly in front of my pussy. He licks his lips as his gaze flicks up to mine. “Is this okay?”
He’s asking permission. He’s asking for more. I don’t know whether I’ll be able to orgasm like this, or if I’ll freak out, but I trust him enough to try. “I don’t know.”
He holds my stare, his own eyes reflecting back the same mix of trepidation and lust I feel down to my core. He lifts my leg onto his shoulder and I balance myself by gripping the counter. I still feel in control. He’s on his knees and not dominating my body with his posture, but this is the most vulnerable of sexual positions I’ve ever experimented with.
“If it stops being okay—” He spreads me wide with his fingers. “Stops feeling good, tell me. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I manage to breathe out.
He inhales, a smile graces his lips, and then his mouth is on my body. Licking. Kissing. Sucking. He goes at it like a man on a mission, which is quite accurate. He only backs off enough to meet my eyes, a silent check-in to make sure I’m okay with this, and fuck if that doesn’t turn me on more.
“I love how you taste,” he says, more to my pussy than my face.
“You like it?” I bite my lip so I won’t let loose a moan, and shamelessly thread my fingers through his hair to bring him back to where I ache for more.
“No.” He shakes his head, all humor gone with the disappearance of his smile. “I fucking love it. I think I’m gonna quit the band and do this instead.” He flashes his devious grin and I swear my sex clenches in response.
“There’s a plan I could get behind,” I reply just as cheekily. But my words are stolen as his lips suck my clit.
“Oh!” I pant and clutch the counter so hard it’ll leave marks.
His tongue runs circles around the sensitive bud of nerves, and he presses my legs open wider. His fingers, first one, then two, slip between my slick folds and he fucks me with them. Oh, yes! That’s it. I’m officially in love with this man’s mouth. He never lets up; his fingers, lips, and tongue move together, bringing me closer and closer to the edge. The sounds of sloppy kisses and the wetness between my legs as his fingers thrust in and out fill the small bathroom. It’s a heady, erotic soundtrack. I feel my orgasm approaching and my pulse speeds, my breath coming fast as I let go of the last of my control.
That’s it. Fuck, yes! I’m so close. My thighs squeeze together but Austin holds them open, his mouth sucking my clit. My eyes slam shut and my orgasm hits.
“Yes!” I shout, and my body spasms with the aftershocks. Shamelessly, I ride his face and I almost feel bad except Austin doesn’t look up once. His mouth greedily licks between my legs as he lets loose a groan of his own.
“Damn, boy,” I heave out between breaths.
He lowers my leg to the floor and sinks back on his heels. His mouth pulls into a satisfied smile, his lips wet from my arousal. His erection presses against his jeans in an illicit manner. It’s obscene, really. Probably painful.
I should put him out of his misery. My sex clenches with a ‘yes please’ before I come up with the best way to fuck in this space. The floor is out for so many reasons. But with his help for balance, this counter ledge will work just fine. Even though he just made me come, I want him inside me, and my body shivers with anticipation.
I crook my finger and bite my lip to contain my smile. “Come fuck me.”
Austin’s eyes heat with desire and he’s on his feet in seconds, shucking his pants. He strokes himself and steps between my legs, lining himself up at my entrance as I hike my leg around his hip. He finds my gaze before he thrusts inside, and it’s full of so much adoration, for a moment my breath catches. The world stills. It’s just the two of us against it all.
Then he moves his hips and we become all about lust, pleasure, and chasing another high. His mouth moves against my throat, nestles into my neck, and deposits open kisses along my skin. His hips rock, and so do mine. We start again, building this crazy friction and reaching for gratification. Together our bodies keep rhythm, his kisses set the melody, and my moans become the chorus. What we had last night wasn’t a one-hit wonder. No, this is the lovemaking of legends.
“Don’t stop.” I push my hips forward to meet his thrusts. My hands grip the counter. My clit throbs, aching for more friction.
“What do you need?” Austin pants, his jaw tight as if he’s holding back. “I want you to come.”
“More,” I say, reaching for another release. “Give me more.”
“Fuck,” Austin swears on a strangled moan, and his palm snakes between us until his thumb finds my clit. The groan of pleasure is all the encouragement he needs to rub tiny circles against my flesh, and that’s exactly what my body needs to come apart.
My sex clenches and I release a cry before I bite down on my lip to rein it in. He gives a few more pumps of his hips and then he’s right there with me, his body tremoring with his strength as he fills me with his release. His head falls forward and rests on my shoulder, his breaths heavy and rushed.
Not wanting him to pull away yet, I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him to me.
A bang against the wall surprises us both. “Oh, my God!” There’s laughter in Trent’s voice. “Turn on the shower! Or play music! Some of us are trying to sleep!”
“Or use a gag!” Sean yells. More laughter.
Austin meets my stare and then bursts into a laugh of his own. “I guess we’re telling people.”
“Oh, my God!” I press my hands to my face. What was I thinking, fucking Austin in the bus bathroom? I wasn’t. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. I like that you’re so vocal when you come undone.” He leans in for a kiss.
“But we just agreed not to tell anyone.” I groan.
“Hey, it’s fine.” Austin shrugs. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Trent figured it out this morning.”
Trent already knew Austin and I slept together. “Ugh!” I push at his shoulder
. “And you didn’t tell me!”
“In my defense you seemed set on not telling anyone, and who was I to argue when I was about to get laid.” His gaze drops to where our bodies are still connected, and I do the same. We watch as his cock slides out of my wet center.
“Fuck, that’s so hot.” He groans.
As much as I’d like to agree, I’m mortified to leave this bathroom and face everyone. Because they just heard us having sex. Because it’s too much to hope they’ll be okay with us being together. “This is bad.”
“It’s fine, Jay.” Austin pulls out two clean hand towels from under the sink and wets them with warm water. He hands one to me, and cleans himself with the other. “They won’t care, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“How can you be so sure?” I know how this looks. They don’t know me. They don’t realize our history. This band operates more like family than friends, and if they’re protective of Austin I’d completely understand.
“Because you make me happy,” he states as if it’s as simple as that. And maybe it is. Hope blooms in the pit of my belly, along with another rush of longing. This time for something more than sex. I don’t know exactly when it happened, but I’m thoroughly addicted to this man. I can’t imagine my life without him in it.
30
Austin
I never thought I’d be the kind of man to fall in love. It’s not who I am. I’m the guy who makes everyone laugh. Inappropriate jokes and shameless self-deprecation are my go-tos. The women who want me only do because of my money, fame, or rock star status. I never thought I’d find a woman who’d want to be with me when all of that other crap is stripped away. If I’m honest, the belief probably goes all the way back to my childhood. Being told you’re not worthy, and being raised by a mother who didn’t think she deserved a healthy, honest relationship does a number on a young man’s head.
But Jayla is different. She always was. She understands my past because she was right there as a witness. She doesn’t give a shit about my money or celebrity clout. She challenges me. For some reason I don’t fully understand, she wants me, and I’m the lucky son of a bitch who gets to love her back.
The next week passes in a whirlwind. I’ve become one of those people I can’t stand. I smile all the damn time. I catch myself singing in the fucking shower. Happiness and positivity radiate from everything I say and do—because every day is a good day when Jayla’s in it. We spend our days working hard, and at night our bodies come together to work even harder. Though we have to be creative. The bathroom on the bus is my new favorite location to hook up, simply because it has a locking door. But sometimes if we’re extra sneaky and everyone else is sleeping soundly, Jayla rides me on one of the lounge chairs. Sleep bunks are off the table. I don’t even try, because being alone in one is uncomfortable enough. Given her triggers, I won’t risk a setback.
But earlier today we rolled into NYC for two nights at Madison Square, which means hotel overnight stay. Halleluiah!
I’m about to make this stop one she’ll never forget. And no, that’s not some reference about my cock, though it could be. I pulled out all the favors to arrange a little surprise for my woman. She works so damn hard. I see how this tour wears on her with the long hours, responsibility, and work ethic she brings to keeping everyone safe on the road and at our packed shows. She’s appreciated for her efforts, but I want to spoil her. Jayla takes care of everyone around her, but who takes care of Jay?
At the end of sound checks, I step off the stage and hand my precious Lola to Ben. “Take care of her.”
He laughs. “You say that every time. When do I not treat your guitars like they’re newborn babes?”
“And that’s why you’re my favorite roadie.” I chuckle and pat Ben on his shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
Trent taps his wrist and lifts his brows. “Almost go time.”
Sean notices the movement and comes closer. “You still think she has no clue?”
“God, I hope not.” I blow out nerves and the tiny sliver of doubt that she won’t like me going behind her back. I had to recruit Brian’s assistance to sneak Jayla away for a few hours. He thinks it’s because Jayla’s family is flying out to surprise her for her birthday, because that’s the lie I told him. It’s risky. But aren’t all important things worth the risk?
On cue, Jayla and Brian appear from one end of the stage.
“You guys ready to head out? The interview starts in an hour,” Jayla asks.
“Yep!” I say with more enthusiasm than necessary.
Jayla eyes me warily, but doesn’t say anything as we head out to the waiting car.
Trent chuckles. “Don’t blow your load, young grasshopper.”
“We’re the same age,” I grumble. His warning hits too close to home. Fuck. If the guys ever learn the details to my first fumbling sexual encounter with Jayla, I’ll never hear the end of it.
We all pile into the SUV and I bury my nose in my phone. If I look at Jayla, I swear she’ll see right through me. Thankfully, the ride only takes fifteen minutes, most of which she chats with Brian, going over last minute changes for tonight’s show. Our driver pulls up to the hotel where our fake interview is scheduled.
“This is our stop,” Brian hustles out of the vehicle. He holds the door for Jayla, and then waits for me to get out.
Leighton pats my shoulder and gives in to a grin. “Go get ’em, tiger.”
“Be back in three hours,” Brian slides back into his seat.
“Wait, what?” Jayla pins him with a confused stare.
“Enjoy your birthday,” he says and then slams the door. Honks of annoyance trill through the busy New York backdrop as the SUV pulls back into traffic.
Jayla spins on her heel. “Why did Brian just wish me a happy birthday?”
A smile takes over my face. “Because I told him it was—”
“And why would you—?”
“Let’s go inside.”
Her gaze heats with something other than annoyance. Passion. She’s totally turned on right now, and for half a second I consider bailing on my plan and spend the afternoon fucking instead. But no. There’s time for that. Today’s about showing Jayla how much I care.
Inside the hotel, the concierge steps away from his desk and meets us in the center of the lobby. “Mr. Jones, so nice to meet you. I’m Cal. We spoke on the phone.”
“Yes, thanks for your help.” I reach out to shake his hand.
“It was my pleasure,” he says. “Are you and your guest ready?”
“Let’s do this.” I grin, knowing it’s probably killing Jayla not to know what it is we’re doing. As we follow Cal, my hand itches to cradle the small of her back, but I refrain from the gesture. I won’t put our new relationship at risk, and while the risk of paparazzi or an excited fan snapping a covert photo isn’t likely, it’s still a possibility.
We take a private elevator to the top floor, and Cal weaves us through a series of hallways before opening a secured door. “You two enjoy. I’ll be back in an hour.”
Jayla steps through first and once she realizes what I have in store, she whips around, her eyes wide, her smile growing. “Nails! I’m getting my nails done.” The joy from her words is worth all the sneaking around to arrange this.
“We’re getting our nails done,” I say through my own grin.
“How did you—?” Her mouth falls open as she takes in the room. The spa is closed, but with money it’s easy to convince a few techs to stay after hours.
“You said it’s one of the things you missed most with being on tour.” I shrug. “Well, that and your friends.”
Her eyes go wide and she glances around. “You didn’t—” Shit. She thinks I flew Kalise and Aliyah here. Damn it. I should have.
“No.” I shake my head. “Fuck, that would have been a better surprise.” I run a hand over my face and scrunch my nose. “Next time.”
“Austin.” She pins me with a glare. “Don’t even. This is . . . so unexp
ected. It’s too much.”
“It’s not close to enough, but I’m glad you like it.”
One of the techs approaches. “I’m Amy, and that’s Rhonda.” She waves toward her co-worker. “Pick a color for your nails, then come have a seat when you’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
I follow Jayla to the wall display of bottled polish.
She browses several minutes and picks out a few colors. She holds one out to me. “Here’s your color. It’s called Rockstar Pink.” Her lips twist with her grin.
“Don’t tease.” I lean in close to whisper in her ear. “We both know your pussy is my favorite shade.” Her body shivers and when I step back her eyes hold desire in their depths. My cock aches uncomfortably in my pants, but I remind him that’s for later. “I think I’ll keep my nails natural.” I wink and nod toward the chairs. “You ready for our first couples’ mani pedi?”
“Yes,” she says as if she’s surprised by her answer. “Yes, I really am.”
For the next hour our nails are buffed—and hers polished—while we’re treated to cucumber infused water and hand massages that pull actual moans from our mouths. It’s not sexual in the least, and I swear by the time we put our shoes back on, I’m the most relaxed I’ve been all month. By the satisfied, blissed out expression on Jayla’s face, she feels the same. I tip Amy and Rhonda generously for that alone.
“Thanks, ladies!” I say when it’s time to head to the next stop of my spoil-Jayla-so-she-never-thinks-to-leave-me surprise.
“Come back and see us next time you’re in New York!” Amy calls after us.
“Yes, and have a great show tonight!” Rhonda adds.
Out in the hall, Cal is waiting for us. He glances at me and then smiles at Jayla. “Did you enjoy the spa?”
“Very much,” she says.
“Glad to hear it,” Cal gestures for us to follow.
I fight the urge to hold Jayla’s hand. This whole keeping our relationship on the down low is more challenging than I thought it’d be. It’s a predicament because I find myself longing for this tour to be over. Once we get back to LA it’ll be easier to date, and I’ll be able to have my hands on her without hesitation. But once we’re back home there’ll be new challenges. Namely, how to spend as much time as possible together with two very different careers. From what Jayla’s shared about her private security work, she often works weekends and late nights. When the guys and I are recording, we’re done most nights by dinnertime. I’m sure there’s no way I could convince her to be my stay-at-home girlfriend, but part of me wants to try.