The Bad Boys of Summer Anthology(208)
“Hey,” I whisper.
“Hi,” she says. “Is this okay? I can go back to my bunk if you’d rather—”
“Shhh, stop it,” I tell her. “Of course it’s okay. Better than okay. I’m sorry I didn’t come find you. I just sort of needed a breather for a few minutes and then I fell asleep.”
“It’s fine. I wanted to wait until Tammy and Walsh went to bed anyway.”
“Yeah?” I readjust my arm under her and play with the ends of her hair. “And how are they?”
“Well, you saw more of him than I did. She’s, um—” Mel sighs deeply then lays her hand on my chest. My heart surges to meet her palm. “There’s something going on with her that’s about more than us, Joss. Walsh says she hasn’t been the same since he got out of rehab. It’s like she’s terrified of losing him or something. I think the whole deal hit her a lot harder than any of us knew.”
I rub a hand over my jaw, wishing I could scrape away the sick feeling that coats my soul like I can scrape away whiskers with a razor. Instead of replying, I roll Mel under me and kiss her, laving her lips with mine, using her soft curves and smooth skin to force the guilt and the pain out of my head. If only she could force it out of my heart.
As Mel responds to my urgent touches, I focus on eliciting those sounds from her—the little gasps and moans and pants—that turn me on so fucking much. I want to utterly consume her, be her everything. I am desperate for her, clawing at her clothes to get them off, tearing delicate fabric, ripping seams and buttons. I sit up on my knees, straddling her, to take my t-shirt off. She’s underneath me with her top and bra gone, her jeans unbuttoned, fly gaping open. Her hair is tousled, her lips puffy. It’s all I can do not to beat my chest and howl at the moon. The desire I feel is that animalistic, primitive, uncontrolled.
Finally, my pants are off, her pants are off, and I’m lying over her, my groin pressed against her heat, my chest against hers as I lean on my forearms and look down at her beautiful blue eyes.
“Are you anywhere near as desperate right now as I am?” I whisper, dipping slightly to rub my chest across her nipples and dragging a tiny moan from her.
“More,” she answers.
I smile.
“Good,” I say as I sit up on my knees and grab a condom off the built-in shelf next to the bed. “Cause I’m not going to make soft, sweet love to you, Mel. We can do that later. Right now, I’m going to fuck the hell out of you. I’m going to fuck you hard and fast. Then, when I’ve taken some of the edge off for us, I’m going to fuck you long. So long that you’re going to think you can’t come one more time and stay in one piece.
“Hope you weren’t expecting to catch up on your sleep when you came in here.” I roll the condom on, and she looks up at me, her eyes big and startled. I lean down and kiss her. “No one’s ever talked to you like this, have they?” I ask.
She shakes her head, but I can see the start of a small smile playing near the corners of her mouth. That’s my girl.
“Welcome to rock and roll, baby,” I say as I grab her wrists, pull them above her head, and plunge inside of her. She cries out at my invasion. “Did I hurt you?” I gasp out as she envelopes me with sweet, sweet heat.
She shakes her head as I pull back and then push in hard. “It’s so good,” she pants.
I use my free hand to plump her breast as I suck on the nipple. She squirms underneath me as I pull back and plunge in again, and again, and again.
Mel’s breathing hard now, pressing her pelvis up against me, one leg wrapped around my hip, the other knee bent with her foot flat on the bed. It puts me at an angle as I press into her, and I know I need to be deeper.
I release her breast and she moans. Then I shift, continuing to hold her wrists prisoner, and growl in her ear, “Both legs around me.” She lifts her other leg and wraps it around my waist too. I pump in and out a few times then nip at her shoulder. “I’m going to let go of your arms. Don’t move them.”
She nods, her eyes closed and her breathing coming in harsh pants. I place both my hands under her hips and lift her higher as I sit back on my heels. Then I put her ankles on my shoulders. Now I enter her deep and hard and she cries out. I can feel myself spiraling out of control, and I don’t care. I’m filled with nothing but pure want, pure need. I have to be inside her more, farther, harder. My world has narrowed down to Mel. Mel’s body, Mel’s light, Mel’s warmth.
I see her start to lift her arms. Then she puts them back down as if she’s remembered. “Joss,” she pleads.
“What do you want, sweet Mel?”
“Please,” she breathes out. “I need to come.”
I chuckle. “I think I can make that happen.” I continue pushing into her deeply, but I put my thumb on her clit and press each time I enter her. In a few thrusts, she’s coming apart, and I’m following right behind her, grinding out, “Holy Fuck, Mel,” as we speed along the highway in the dead of night.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mel
I wake up and have to orient myself for a moment. Hotel room. Joss’s to be exact. And we’re in—I stop and look around—Detroit, I think. I stretch, letting my poor, overworked muscles loosen up before I turn to observe my delicious bedmate. Joss and I have been sleeping together every night for two weeks now. Through Kansas City, Oklahoma City, St Louis, Minneapolis, and now Detroit. The concert last night went as smoothly as could be, and after an hour or so at the after-party, where we were blessed with the accidental sight of Mike getting a blowjob in the dressing room he shared with Joss, we came back to the hotel and had our own private party.
And oh how I love to party alone with Joss. If I thought he was sexy when he was a two-dimensional figure from a CD cover, there’s no comparison to the real multi-dimensional man I’m now getting to know.
I watch as he breathes quietly, his hard, cut chest moving up and down rhythmically. His hair is tumbled around his face and one arm is flung above his head, making him seem almost vulnerable. But even in sleep, his other hand rests on my inner thigh, as if he couldn’t quite let me go even for the few hours of unconsciousness.
This symbol, the way he doesn’t let me go, is both tender and strong. He is tender in his need for me, the way he says that I light up his life and help him feel less alone. But he is strong in his need to be in charge—of me and everything else he touches. He won’t accept anything less than perfection from those around him, and I worry about what will happen when I’m no longer a shiny new penny and he realizes I’m far from perfect.
In particular, I worry he’ll find out I had an affair with my professor and judge me for it. It was an incredibly foolish thing to do, both professionally and personally. Joss doesn’t suffer fools lightly.
My mind wanders to the email I received from my school yesterday. My case will be heard in a few days, and if it doesn’t go the way I want, I won’t be reconsidered for the Eddie Adams award, but worse than that, my whole grade in Professor Marin’s course might be disqualified. Then it’ll be up to the college whether they let me retake the course or permanently bar me from the program.
The idea of having spent six years of my life pursuing something that might be torn from me in one afternoon meeting is almost more than I can bear. The degree is proof of my dedication, the stamp of approval that I’ve sought ever since I first picked up a camera and fell in love with how it let me look at the world. When I think of all that being in vain, my heart dies a little inside of me.
But when I think of losing both the degree and Joss, everything inside me dies a lot. Of course Joss is hardly mine to lose, I remind myself. We haven’t talked at all about what we’re doing, where we’re going, or anything beyond this tour. Given what everyone’s told me about his history with women, I should probably assume we’ll be done when the tour is, and then it won’t matter what he thinks about my affair with Marin.
“Do I need to work harder at keeping you happy, sweet Mel?” Joss’s deep voice interrupts my disturbing train of thought. I roll onto my side to face him, and he does the same, putting one hand on my hip under the sheets and beginning to explore the skin there.
“Why do you ask that?” I respond.
He rubs a finger between my eyebrows. “Because there’s a little line right here that you get when you’re unhappy about something, and I see it this morning. I can’t have you going out of this room wearing that. Everyone will think I’ve lost my touch.”
I can’t help but smile. “Oh yeah? What touch is that?”
“My magic touch with women. Here at Rock Star Central, no woman ever goes away dissatisfied. We’ll keep at it until we get it right.”
I laugh. “Riiight. So is that what Mike’s doing all the time? Just keeping at it until he gets it right?”
“Well, problem is, he missed the memo that said you keep at it until one woman is satisfied.” He smiles at me and cups my breast as he runs his thumb across the nipple. I can’t help but moan at the sensation. Until Joss, I didn’t know it was possible to feel this good. It’s like he has some secret code to my anatomy. He punches in the combination and I open up like a spring-loaded lock.