45. Othelia
Chapter forty-five
Othelia
“Fuck, Rockstar. You take my cock so well, baby.”
I moan at his words, grinding my hips back into his as he wrings the last of my orgasm out of me, the feeling of him filling me, sending another shudder through my body.
We hadn’t even reached the bedroom in our suite. Stopping to admire the view of the LA skyline, my home base for the last ten years. It didn’t take long for my thoughts to spiral into my previous life here. How could I be surrounded by this many people and still feel entirely unseen?
Warm hands encircled me from behind, lifting the hem of my high waisted mini and it took less than a minute for Rook to push inside me, pressing me against the glass and rid me of any thought that didn’t include him.
“Thank God for tinted glass,” he murmurs against my bare shoulder, giving me a kiss as he slips out of me. “I could feel your mind whirling from the doorway.”
“I don’t think LA is my home anymore,” I admit, readjust my cardigan back over my shoulders and wrap it tighter around me. He says nothing, just wraps his arms around me again, resting his chin on my head as we stare out into the rush hour chaos surrounding our hotel.
“I used to love it here. It felt so full of possibilities. With the added bonus of being two thousand miles away from my mother.” I smile at the memory of stepping off the plane at seventeen and walking out of LAX like I had the whole world before me. My chance, right around the corner.
I wasn’t wrong. Within six months, we had signed Rick to be our manager and our debut album with Sony exploded up the charts faster than anyone could’ve predicted. We did a bunch of international shows at first, opening for big bands. It was hard at first to get into clubs and bars in the states when I was only eighteen. One year and an album later, no one cared about my age. Everyone was dying to have Hopeless Mercy play.
If it wasn’t for Lennon, I could have fallen down some disastrous and destructive paths. Drugs, alcohol, and sex were always on offer. It was a constant struggle to assert my boundaries, as men continually assumed they could touch me wherever we went. The guys used to get in so many fights, protecting me from creeps that got too handsy.
“Now, it just feels tainted.”
He hums his agreement. “So where do you wanna live?”
“I don’t know.” I squeeze his arms tighter around me. “Chicago feels like it’s growing on me.” I can feel his smile against my hair as he kisses the back of my head.
“Yeah, Chicago has surprised me too.” He lets me go, playfully slapping my ass before going to get our bags from where he left them by the entrance. “Let’s go. We gotta hustle if you wanna make it to dinner with the guys before the game.”
He drops them in the closet, then unhooks the straps to his suitcase and flicks it open. He pulls out his suit and lays it on the bed while I lean against the doorway, checking him out.
He smirks, removing his shirt one handed as he raises his eyebrows at me. “Enjoying the show, Rockstar?”
My tongue runs along the inside of his cheeks as I watch his muscles flex with the movement. “I’d probably like it more if I could get a better view of that ass.”
His shoulders shake with his silent laugh, and puts on his pants dramatically, flexing his ass. I walk towards the bathroom, giving him a tap on the ass as I go, but he grabs my hand and pulls me into him, my hands gliding over his bare chest.
He goes to speak, but the sound of his ringtone stops him. My brother’s name is flashing on the screen. He answers with a gruff hello and I dance out of his grip as his eyes run up and down my body, as I back away and into the bathroom.
When I return to the bedroom, sadly, he is fully clothed, but I still find my core throbbing at the sight of him in a fully tailored suit. I bet he would look even better from my knees.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” I ask coyly
“Like you’re three seconds away from trying to deepthroat me.” He raises one eyebrow and I flush crimson. He groans and adjusts himself.
“Now I have to get on a bus with my team with thoughts of you on your knees in front of me.” He reaches me, cupping my face and giving me a lingering kiss. “That was your brother letting me know the bus has arrived and they are all making their way down. He’ll be up in a second with Layla.” He almost sounds disappointed.
“I need to get to the restaurant.” I lift his sleeve to glance at his watch. “Oh shit, the boys will be there soon.” I bounce up, pecking him on the lips. He grabs my arms and doesn’t let me go, just to steal a longer kiss.
“I’ll see you at the game?”
“Look for the person wearing the fuzzy hat.” He shakes his head, smiling.
Rook answers the door when Rian knocks a minute later, talking with him and Dominic in the lounge area, giving me a minute to throw some clothes on before my hands are busy with a grumpy Layla.
The poor kid has been so unsettled over the last week. Rian was so worried he took her to the pediatrician only to be told she was teething and it was totally normal at her age. Give her some things to chew on, some soothing ointment and just ride it out. Which is a lot easier said than done.
Dominic and his security team have been with me around the clock since Rook’s father sent me his warning. I’m hoping this is all an overkill but the look of horror on Rook’s face when he saw the flowers in our kitchen makes me glad I’m lucky enough to have the option of additional security.
“Hey there, baby girl,” I coo as I walk over to the guys. Layla, still in Rian’s arms, starts bouncing up and down, using her chubby legs to push herself away from Rian, a squeal erupting from her tiny body.
“Dom,” I greet the surly guard, and he gives me a small smile. “What’s the plan?”
“I’ll be with you tonight. Wyatt is back from his leave and will take over tomorrow morning. I’ll be back to relieve him at ten pm.”
“Do you trust this guy?” Rook stiffens, looking between Dom and me.
“Wyatt has worked with me for years.” When Rook looks unconvinced, he continues. “Wyatt has extensive undercover training, military and private security. He has had some of the highest security clearances in the world,” Dom says, crossing his arms across his chest.
“He has already been in my detail before. He handled me through Europe last year. Seems like a nice guy,” I say, placing a hand on Rook’s tense forearm.
“I don’t care if he’s nice, Rockstar. Will he keep her safe?” His eyes move back to Dom, who seems unfazed by Rook’s questioning.
“Yes. Plus, during that time she will be at your game, in a private area with minimum risk, and all of you nearby. If I didn’t think she would be safe, I wouldn’t agree.”
The air feels tense but Rian breaks the silence. “And on that note, we gotta go.” He blows raspberries on Layla’s tummy before handing her to me. “I got all that baby medicine shit in the bag, if she needs it.”
“We’re good. Layla is gonna come chill with me at dinner and get doted on by her uncles. I’ll be surprised if Lennon hasn’t bought her a Ferrari by the end of dinner.” Layla kicks her feet up and down, grabbing my finger in her tiny hand, beginning to gnaw on my knuckle.
“He is gonna be so fucked when his kid comes, hey?” Rian laughs as he and Dominic leave the room. Rook comes over and kisses my temple, then strokes Layla’s cheek.
“I’ll see you soon,” he says, looking at me one last time as I bounce with Layla. I nod and he closes it with a click.
“Alright, baby girl. Let’s go see what trouble these boys are getting into.”
The team moves with such fluidity around the ice, each taking shots on Maverick as they warm up.
The announcer comes over the speaker, introducing each of the players, and the crowd goes wild. Lennon, Jericho and Trace sit on either side of me, Layla happily sitting on Trace’s lap, pulling on his dreads.
When team introductions are done, the Jumbo-tron camera pans across the arena, landing on us at ice level.
“Looks like we have some special guests in the arena tonight. Can we give a big Los Angeles welcome to the members of Hopeless Mercy.” The crowd around us goes crazy, screams and cheers ring out around the arena as we wave.
Rook slides up to the glass, placing his closed fist against it. I stand, placing my fist on the same spot as his gaze travels up to my beanie. A red and black knit beanie with a big fluffy Pom Pom, the number fifty-nine stitched in white on the cuff.
Nice hat, he mouths, our fists remaining pressed against opposite sides of the glass.
I shrug. “I heard he’s the best d-man out there.” He almost looks bashful, his cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink despite the chill coming off the ice. Running his tongue along his teeth, he looks back at his team, beginning to file into the bench.
He mouths I love you before he pushes backwards, skating off to join his team.
“Damn,” Jericho whistles. “That guy is absolutely gone for you.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me and I blush, taking my seat.
“I hope so.” I stare back out at the ice as the starting lineup moves into position. “I’m pretty gone for him too.”