Chapter 26
Eric
Sunlight spills through the windows when I open my eyes.
My face is shoved against Dmitri’s neck, his arm is draped heavy over my waist, and my leg wedges between his thighs.
Our bodies barely fit together in this cramped bunk, but I couldn’t bear to let him drown in his thoughts last night.
We kissed and ran our fingers over each other’s skin until he calmed, then we both passed out.
Now I’m fully awake, lying on my side with the front of his body flush against mine.
Heat bleeds between us, and his pulse knocks steadily against mine.
His breath tickles my ear as I squirm and bite my lip, trying not to laugh.
The motion grinds my morning wood against him, and he stirs with a quiet grunt.
At first, I think he’s still asleep, but his chest inflates in a deep, deliberate inhale, and his hand slowly glides down to cradle my ass, fingers digging in with sleepy possession.
My lips connect with his throat, gently sucking on his Adam’s apple. He guides me forward, rocking my cock against his, and the friction drags a soft grunt from my throat as I release his skin with a distinct pop.
Stern amusement dances on his face as he opens his eyes and lifts a finger to his lips.
Good luck with that.
He already knows how loud I get, and how the noises fall out of me when he worships my body.
It’s out of my control.
A scientific fact.
But I’m desperate for him, so I nod and clamp my lips shut, eyes pleading as I grind against him again.
He reaches between us and tucks his shorts under his balls then does the same thing to me. There are no barriers as we move skin to skin. I hook his leg with mine and grind into him as the underside of my shaft slides against his, feeling the friction of every bump and vein.
I’m so turned on my skin is crawling, my cock leaking and my balls tight.
He pulls his hand away and spits into his palm a few times, then slides his slick hand over both of us.
The makeshift lube makes us glide against each other, and as his hand returns to my ass to encourage me to move, another loud moan slips loose.
“Shhh,” he hisses in my ear before swatting my ass.
I try to keep quiet as I grind against him, but the tension in my groin spreads too fast through my body and climbs my spine like wildfire.
Dmitri rolls us so I'm on top of him, and my knees fall to bracket his hips.
We're face to face in the tight space, but the position allows me free range to move.
Dmitri's lips find my ear as he whispers, “Ride me, baby.”
Heat builds between us as I thrust harder, and the corded tendons of his neck tell me he's just as close to losing control as I am. His fingertips dig into my ass as he thrusts off the mattress, then his head snaps back as his mouth falls open.
There is a profound beauty in the way he comes undone.
Warmth spreads between us as I feel his cock jerk against mine, and his cum makes it even slicker between us.
His teeth sink into my shoulder, muffling his pleasure-filled noises as I follow him over the edge.
A moan slips out too loud as my orgasm crashes through my body, locking my muscles as I come across his stomach.
My eyes roll back into their sockets as I work through the final pulses, and when I slump against him, there’s a pool of cum between our naked bodies.
“Good morning,” he whispers, nudging my nose with his until he finds my lips.
“Mmm…” I groan as I jerk my mouth away. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”
“Don’t care,” he grunts, rolling us until I’m trapped with my back against the wall. He kisses me sweetly, hands gliding over my face as I smile against his lips. Finally, he releases a long sigh and collapses onto his back, cradling me against his neck once more.
The door to the sleeping cabin slides open. “Breakfast is ready!” Theo calls out, then grows quiet. “Anyone seen Eric this morning? His bed’s empty.”
Dmitri elbows me with a wicked grin.
“Er, yeah,” I respond as I elbow him back. “I’m, uh, I’m here, Theo.”
“Right,” Theo drawls after a pause. “Okay. Yep, right on then, breakfast is ready.” He flounces away, and Dmitri's shoulders shake with laughter.
“Come on, Red,” he says, still chuckling as he rights our clothes. “Let’s clean up and get some food.”
“Red?” I ask.
He flashes another giant smile my way. “You’re blushing.”
I scoff as I shove him away. “You gotta stop giving me color nicknames.”
“I’ll do my best,” he teases, then stops me with a hand on my arm and shoots a pointed glance at my cum-drenched stomach. I glance around, finally finding a sock at the foot of the mattress.
Looks like laundry just moved to the top of my to-do list.
Dmitri lets me have the bathroom first, and I scrub away the remnants of our fun before brushing my teeth and washing my face. He drops another quick kiss on my lips as we swap.
Tai gives me a smirk from across the room as I grab a plate of eggs and toast. “Sleep well?”
I flash him a sarcastic smile. “Sure did.” Like most mornings after a show, my voice is weak, so I pour myself a hot cup of coffee and groan at the heat against my strained vocal cords. Dmitri comes out of the bathroom and grabs his breakfast, then drops into the seat beside me.
Dante cheers from the couch. “Fuck yeah! Mobile and Jackson shows sold out!”
“For real?” I ask as Dmitri squeezes my thigh. “That’s awesome!”
Theo grins over his phone. “Listen to this, guys! This is a blogger for Rolling fucking Stone. ‘Falling Absent is turning heads as they kick off their multi-state southern tour. When a band has that much energy on the stage, you can’t help but sing—and in this case, headbang and scream—along with them. Tickets are flying off the shelves as the five-man crew takes social media by storm. Expect more from these guys, because something tells me they’re just getting started. ’”
“Jesus, no pressure,” I say with a nervous laugh.
Everyone is wearing wide, manic grins as we scour through social media. It's become a tradition to search for posts about our previous night’s show. After a few minutes, Dmitri elbows me and flashes his phone at me. On his screen is a selfie of a dark-haired girl with me on stage behind her.
“Paid for the front row just for a chance to drink Eric’s sweat,” I read aloud with a choked laugh.
Tai whoops victoriously and flashes a fuzzy, zoomed-in picture of Dante. “Caption: Y'all can have the others, give me bald daddy Dante.”
“I am not bald,” Dante says with a scoff. “I shave my head. There’s a difference.”
Dmitri continues to shovel eggs into his mouth. “That's a very important difference. You should probably make an official public statement.”
Dante doesn’t even look up as he flips him off from across the room. For the next half hour, we share the most outrageous posts we find, but as they slow down, I jump up to wash the dishes.
“Here’s one…” Tai calls out, but then stops abruptly.
When I glance up, his face has paled. “Dude, what is it? Bad review?” He shakes his head without looking up, and I roll my eyes at his dramatics. “Listen, man, internet trolls are awful, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone has told us we sound like garbage. We’re big boys. What’d they say?”
Tai clears his throat. “It’s not that…”
“Stop being cryptic,” I complain, snatching the phone from his hand. My eyes dart back and forth over the caption, rereading it three times as my stomach plummets to my feet. Panic clamps around my throat, squeezing until my breathing turns shallow and fast as my pulse roars in my ears.
“Eric.” Dmitri’s voice is suddenly much closer, and it grounds me for a split second. When I lower the phone, we’re face to face, and his eyes are filled with concern.
I open my mouth, but the words won’t come, so I just close it again.
“Baby,” he whispers, so soft it cuts through the hysteria long enough for me to drag in a single, shaky breath. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
Silently, I hand him the phone. He stares at me for a long second trying to analyze my expression, then finally reads the post. A low curse slips from his lips before his eyes meet mine again.
“Eric, it’s not a big deal. It’s one person’s opinion.”
“One person whose post has been shared over five hundred times,” I respond faintly.
“Will someone share what's going on?” Dante demands, his patience razor-thin. Dmitri glances at me again before tossing Dante the phone.
Someone in the audience captured an extraordinarily clear picture during 'Love of Mine.' Dmitri and I are staring at each other, the intensity between us burning as hot as the sun. It's impossible to miss, frozen forever in pixels for the world to dissect.
Dante reads the caption out loud. “Did anyone else notice the heart eyes between these two at Tallahassee? Could cut through that sexual tension with a knife.”
Theo’s jaw drops dramatically, but Dante shakes his head. “I’m with Dmitri on this. People love to do shit like this. They create relationships out of thin air.”
“But it’s not out of thin air,” I argue. “This isn’t some fandom bullshit. It's real.”
Dante waves a hand in the air dismissively. “Trust me, dude. By the next show, no one will remember that this chick even posted anything. It’ll be buried and you won’t have to worry.”
Spoiler alert: It wasn’t buried, and I had to worry.
Over the course of the next two days, I'm consumed by social media. If I'm not fixated on every new comment speculating on the connection between Dmitri and me, then I'm refreshing the page to track the post’s skyrocketing shares.
Four thousand three hundred and twelve.
I swipe down on my phone screen and refresh again.
Scratch that. Four thousand three hundred and thirty-six.