17. Carmen
17
Carmen
I should be elated. The concert was a huge hit andtons of excited fans got to meet the band. Yet, when I watched the last of them file out, Donny's words from earlier replayed in my mind, dimming the glow of our success.
I've always known I work too much. It's been my shield, my way of proving to Walker and everyone else that a woman can handle a rock band. But now, as I celebrate another milestone, I can't shake the fear that my devotion to work might cost me the one person I can't bear to lose.
Donny's seen it all - the late nights, the stress, the victories. Maybe that's why his words cut so deep. He knows exactly what this job means to me.
As I make my way down the long hallway to my apartment, the dim lighting casts soft shadows that match my subdued mood.
My thoughts wander, replaying the evening's events. I wish I had found the courage to speak my mind instead of avoiding confrontation. But isn't that what I always do? Run from anything that threatens the carefully constructed walls around my heart?
Lost in thought, I barely notice my surroundings until a shadow moves near my door. My heart leaps into my throat, hand instinctively reaching for the mace in my purse. But as my eyes adjust, relief and irritation flood through me in equal measure.
"Donny, are you insane?"
He pushes away from the wall with a shrug, an amused grin playing on his lips. "Some people might say so."
"This isn't funny," I grind out, shaking my head as I nudge him away from my door. "You scared the shit out of me."
His smile drops, and he sighs. “You’re right. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, then push my door open.
He’s hot on my tail, which only irritates me further, and I whirl around. “I don’t remember saying you could come inside.”
Without hesitation, his steps falter and he comes to a stop a couple of feet away from the door. We stare at each other for a moment and he runs a hand through his curls, attention turning to the door with a frown. “Just give me five minutes, please?”
“Why should I?” I ask, crossing my arms in front of me with an eyebrow arched. “According to you, I’m always working, so you may as well make that two minutes.”
Donny scrubs a hand down his face and blows out a rough breath. “I shouldn’t have said anything, I know that.”
"Look, Donny," I begin, turning to face him. "I know what you're going to say, and you're right. I work all the time. I'm not good at... this." I gesture vaguely between us. "Maybe we should just admit this whole charade has gone on too long."
He blinks in surprise. “What… what do you mean?”
There’s a vulnerability in his gaze that makes me want to retract every thought in my head right now, but this is for the best. It never should’ve gone this far.
“It means that we should think about coming clean, admitting this was a charade for publicity or something, because you deserve someone who gives you more.”
“No,” he growls, his eyes darkening as he closes the distance between us. The intensity of his gaze pins me in place. “I didn’t agree with that, and I’m not about to let you walk away from this. From us.”
“It’s not only your decision,” I growl out, my spine stiffening when he stops a foot in front of me. “Even your mother thinks I’m a I'm terrible for you. And she's not wrong. I don't know how to be what you need."
Donny leans forward, his hand brushing against my hand. “You think I give a shit about what my mom thinks of you?”
The mention of his mother sends a pang of guilt through me. It's not just about Donny – it's about disappointing his family.
I suck in a sharp breath and turn my face away, forcing his hand to drop from my skin. “You should, because she’s right. I don’t give you what you deserve.”
“That’s bullshit,” he grinds out. “Look at me, Carmen.”
Donny's hand comes up to cup my cheek, and I can't help but lean into his touch. "You don't get it, do you? You're exactly what I need. Just as you are."
My heart clenches.
I reluctantly look at him, staring into his eyes. The heat from his body is enough to have my head spinning, but I manage to keep myself composed in front of him.
His forehead presses against mine, his breath warm on my lips. “You’re everything I never knew I needed. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone, even you, convince me to walk away from this,” he whispers.
“It’s not real,” I mutter, halfheartedly pushing against his chest. But he doesn’t budge, and I’m not sure I want him to. “Everything is fake, Donny.”
His eyes search mine, seeing more than I want him to. "Is it, Carmen? Is that what you really believe?"
I don’t answer.
He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. "I have something for you."
He pulls out a small sprig of mistletoe, holding it above our heads with a playful grin.
My eyes fall back to his, something that seems to happen more and more lately. Then he smirks. “Rules are rules, Sunshine.”
He winks when I scrunch my eyebrows together, confused by his words, and his gaze darts above us in amusement. I follow his line of sight, only to see him holding a mistletoe and a cocky grin on his face.
“We never got to have a kiss under the mistletoe at the cabins, so I thought I’d bring the moment to you myself,” he says proudly. “Smart, right?”
“I-I can’t,” I choke out.
“Everyone knows that you have to kiss whoever is under the mistletoe with you. Do you want to be the first person to break that tradition, Sunshine?”
I want to turn away from him, to tell him to get the hell out of my apartment and blast everything on the internet about what our real relationship is like, but everything inside of me is screaming not to do that.
This man is standing in front of me, a mistletoe hanging above our heads, simply because we never got this moment on our trip. How could I possibly turn that down and, more importantly, do I even want to?
Slowly, I rise on my tiptoes, my lips meeting his in a kiss that starts soft but quickly deepens. His arms encircle me, pulling me flush against him, and I melt into his embrace.
My body reacts to the moment — pussy clenching, heart soaring, knees buckling — and I let myself relax into his chest. His tongue slips between my parted lips, then he’s gliding both his hands over my ass and squeezing until a gasp falls from my lips. At the sound of it, he lifts me up and sits me onto the edge of the counter without his lips ever leaving mine.
He runs his hands over my thighs, pushing them apart enough that he’s able to step between them, and my pussy aches for him when I feel his hard length rub against me from behind his jeans. I break away from the kiss breathlessly. Then he tugs on the back of my neck and tilts my face up so that my neck is exposed to him.
"This," he murmurs against my skin, "is exactly what I want." His lips find my pulse point, sending shivers down my spine. "There's no one else I'd rather have as my fake fiancé." He kisses me gently, teasingly, making me squirm. Then, his voice drops lower, husky with emotion. "But I've got to be honest... 'fake' is quickly losing its appeal."
My eyes snap open, colliding with his heated stare, and I blink in surprise. “Wh-what do you mean?”
He slides his other hand over my stomach, along my chest, and rests his fingers around my neck with a smirk — he’s not squeezing, and that only makes the action that much hotter.
“I mean,” he says huskily, his tongue darting out to form a trail along my skin, “this isn’t fake for me anymore.”
His words leave me breathless, my heart skipping a beat. As he leans in, gently grazing my ear with his teeth, my thoughts blur. I should push him away, tell him he's not thinking clearly. But I can't. Because deep down, I've been wondering the same thing: What if this wasn't just pretend?
“Tell me, Sunshine. Do you feel it too?”
My heart races.
Instead of answering him, I pull him closer, my arms encircling his neck. Our lips meet in a tender kiss that deepens with unspoken emotion. He pushes the hand that was around my neck, down the front of my shirt, palming my breasts, and rolls my nipple between his fingers enough to elicit a soft moan from my throat.
“You can’t deny it, can you?” He reaches for the hem of my shirt with his other hand and pushes it up, then pulls away from the kiss to tug it over my head and throw it onto my kitchen floor.
I arch my back into him, desperate for more, but he backs away from me slightly with a grin. “Tell me what you want, Sunshine, and you can have it all. Admit that my feelings aren’t one sided.”
“Everything,” I whisper. “I want everything with you.”
It’s the most truthful I’ve been about my feelings this entire time, and it feels like a weight lifted off my chest. Donny’s eyes go from heated to a blazing inferno and before I know it, he’s lifting me from the counter just enough to peel my pants down my legs. The counter is cold beneath my bare skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat coursing through me as Donny takes a step back, stripping off his own clothes.
I tighten my fingers around the edge of the counter as I try my hardest not to reach out and run them along his chiseled chest, but I can’t help it when my teeth sink into my bottom lip. Donny’s gaze zeroes in on the action and he stalks forward, every glorious naked inch of him, before tugging my lips from their hold.
“These lips are too pretty for all that,” he murmurs, then brings me into a searing kiss drawing me in deeper, making it harder to deny the pull I feel toward him. Donny’s broken through every wall I’ve built. What if I let myself fall, only to discover this isn’t truly real?
Before I can come to a conclusion, Donny’s mouth pulls away from mine and he wraps around a nipple before sucking gently. I jerk against him, my ass nearly coming off the counter, but he quickly reaches out to stop me from falling.
“I deserve a treat after the show I put on tonight, don’t you think?”
I don’t even know if I respond—my mind too clouded with everything happening. But it’s enough for Donny to drop to his knees and pull me forward, his tongue immediately sliding through my slick folds. He groans against me, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure as he flicks his tongue over my clit, and I can feel the tension coiling tighter with each stroke.
No one’s ever had this kind of effect on me before—never brought me to the brink so fast. My body trembles uncontrollably, every nerve ignited as my fingers tangle in his golden curls, pulling him closer.
He doesn’t slow down. His tongue dips inside me, then returns to my clit with precision, repeating the motion until it’s all too much. My walls tighten, my body teetering on the edge, and then my release crashes through me, hard and fast. Donny pulls me closer, riding out every wave of my orgasm until I’m left breathless, slumped against him as the last tingles slowly fade.
I sag against the cabinets, breathless, as he rises from the floor. Without a word, he lifts me off the counter like I weigh nothing. His cock grinds against my clit with every step through the kitchen, sending sparks of pleasure racing through me. By the time we reach the living room, I’m clinging to him, half-drunk on the heat between us.
He deposits me onto the couch, his breath ragged, and spins his finger in the air. “Turn around. On your knees.”
I don’t hesitate. I twist around, sinking to my knees, heart pounding. The heat of him hovers behind me, the brush of his cock against my back teasing me, making me ache.
“Lean forward, Sunshine.”
The low rasp of his voice sends a shiver through me. I brace myself on the couch, chest pressed to the backrest, as his fingers slide through my slick folds. My hips jerk involuntarily, already desperate for him, even though I just came.
“Are you on birth control?”
I nod, throat too dry to speak.
His mouth drops to my ear, voice low and wrecked. “I’m clean. Haven’t touched anyone else in a long time. I don’t want anything between us tonight. Just you.”
My breath catches, and my pulse pounds.
“I need your words,” he murmurs, his voice full of restraint—like holding back is killing him. “Tell me I can take you bare, Sunshine. Tell me you want it.”
“Yes,” I whisper, barely able to get the word out. “I want you inside me, Donny.”
“Fuck,” he groans, and before I can take another breath, he’s pushing inside me—deep, filling me inch by inch, stretching me in ways that leave me gasping.
“God, Sunshine,” he rasps, voice thick with awe. “You feel fucking unreal.”
A strangled moan slips from my lips as he thrusts into me, each stroke hitting deeper than the last, breaking me apart and making me whole all at once. “Donny...” I gasp, barely clinging to the edge of sanity.
His pace quickens, desperate, almost wild. He wraps my hair around his wrist, not to pull, but to hold—like he needs to anchor himself to me. His other hand digs into my hip, steadying me as he drives deeper, like nothing will ever be close enough.
That thought sends me spiraling. My walls clench around him, and my orgasm crashes over me in a tidal wave, leaving me gasping, my nails biting into the couch cushions.
“Donny, yes,” I cry out, body quaking beneath him.
His thrusts falter, becoming erratic as he chases his own release. With a guttural groan, he shudders and spills inside me, sending another pulse of heat through my body.
He pulls out slowly, leaving me trembling in the afterglow, but instead of leaving, he gathers me in his arms. I collapse against his chest, our bodies sticky with sweat and satisfaction.
With my head resting against his bare chest, he presses a kiss to the top of it and mumbles, “Let’s go to bed, Sunshine.”
As I drift off in Donny’s arms, my heart feels fuller than it ever has. But a nagging fear lingers. What if this all disappears in the light of day? What if I wake up to find it was just a beautiful dream? I want to tell him I’ve fallen for him, that this is real for me, too.
I know I’ve used my career as a shield, hiding from deep relationships.
He’s shown me what I’ve been missing. His balance of musical passion and zest for life has opened my eyes to a world of possibilities.
It’s like all of my emotions rise to the surface.
Tomorrow, I’ll tell him... and risk everything.