Twenty-two
Ben
Sadie lies beside me, asleep, and the image of her under me as I took away her innocence and made her mine for good plays on a constant reel in my head. She drifted off after she let me take her a second time. Her poor body is going to be sore tomorrow, and fuck if that doesn’t excite me. What a bastard I am.
My wife. I’m never going to get tired of those words.
I wish I didn’t have to leave; more than anything, I want to drag her on tour with me. I worry what being away from her will do to my mental health. The drugs are still there, the need to do them is still there, but only when she isn’t around. My rage disorder takes over sometimes when I least expect it, and what will I do then? More therapy. More AA meetings. It may even be time for a medication change. There are so many things that I still need to work on.
“You’re thinking of something. What is it?” Sadie whispers in her post-slumber voice. I didn’t even see her stir.
“You were supposed to get more sleep before dinner.”
“I couldn’t stay asleep knowing you were right here for me to take advantage of.” Her hand roams over my flat abs, stopping right above my cock. As she trails her fingers across my stomach, my cock stirs, and I get hard again. Damn it.
“You’re not ready for more yet. You’re going to be way too sore.” I groan as she grips me tightly. “Shit.”
“I can use my mouth or my hands. Maybe even my breasts.” My brain is going foggy, and she isn’t helping. She’s still so innocent, yet curious, and it has me by the damn throat.
“You’re a bad little thing. You love my cock in you?” Her stroking slows down. Looking down, she blushes and curls her lip.
“That’s . . . when you do that, it’s . . .” Sadie struggles.
“Sexy? You can say you like dirty talk.”
“But it doesn’t seem normal,” she confesses, circling her thumb around my tip, causing my entire body to shiver.
“You expressing yourself, your desires, is normal. I will teach you how to feel more confident with your wants.”
She whimpers, climbing me then straddling my hips. My cock is wedged against her swollen core. “Can I confess something to you without you looking at me differently?”
“Of course. You can always trust me, angel.” Reaching up, I graze the tips of her tight nipples. Her curvy thighs tighten around my hips with the simple touch, and her entire body is recharged.
“It turns me on, this . . .” She begins to fuck my cock against her clit, sliding my shaft between her lips.
“So fucking sexy, fuck, baby, take what you want from me,” I say through a moan, watching her face contort with pleasure.
“I want to do this every day.” I knew that somewhere inside my good girl Sadie there was a bad girl waiting to get out. The rock star’s wife was hiding in the shadows, waiting for a sinner like me to rock her world and flip her upside down.
“We can do this every fucking day, and I will never complain,” I groan, dropping my head back and swallowing more moans.
“Vows, tell me them,” she says, still lazily gliding against my shaft. Her eyes widen, and that plump lip is caught between her teeth.
“I promise to love you through the hard times, the bad times, the fucking great times. Fuck,” I hiss when she reaches down and circles the tip of my cock with her thumb each time she slides down. “I will worship you like you deserve and never let you live a day without knowing your worth. I’ll live this life for you, with you, and beside you, Sadie. Now you, tell me your promise.” I grab her hips again and watch her intently.
“I promise to never let you go. I will be your family, and I will give you a safe place to come home to every night. I’ll be your best friend, your muse, your everything.” I trace my thumb over the soft skin of her inner stomach, between her hip and pubic bone. “I will show you real love every minute, every hour, every day.” Intimately, in the confines of this room with no one else around, we share our vows. Just like everything we have done, it’s unorthodox, but it’s exactly who we are.
* * *
The hotel bar is convenient, so we pick there to eat. Sadie gets a sweet tea, and I order myself a beer. Her crystal-blue eyes roam all over the dining area, taking in the lights, the people, and the scenery outside the window, but my focus is on her, enjoying the best view in the entire world.
Apparently, Kate added some clothes to Sadie’s small bag. The tight-fitting red dress she’s wearing hugs her hips perfectly, showing a generous amount of cleavage and the roundness of her ass. She wears red lipstick to match and has teased her hair. I’m not complaining about what she’s wearing. This isn’t how she usually dresses, but I like the innocent Sadie too; it’s the only way I’ve known her.
I watched the way she checked herself out in the mirror before we left the room. She was glowing, and her confidence was evident. She not only feels sexy, but I see the new woman in her, and, like a bastard, I want to bang my chest knowing I’m the one who made her a woman.
Reaching over the table, I grab her hand and kiss the back, bringing her focus back to me. “You look beautiful.”
“You look handsome.” I went with casual black skinny jeans, a cream shirt, and a leather jacket. Compared to her, I look like a normal guy out of his league. “I’m ready to eat. I’m starved,” she adds, running her nails over the back of my hand.
“Me, too, we worked up quite an appetite because someone couldn’t behave and keep her hands to herself.” I wiggle my brows, and she laughs.
“Whatever, you’re as bad as me. Anyway, can you believe we’re married?”
“Yes and no. It’s a bit surreal.” I take a swig of my beer. “You doing okay? You want to talk about your parents? You haven’t told me much, Sadie.” Her face drops; long gone is the newlywed glow. We’re supposed to be stuck in marital bliss, but I won’t leave for this tour without making sure she is okay.
“There isn’t much to say. They were worried. My father more than anyone. He is scared, and I don’t blame him. I am too.” She rubs her lips together, takes a sip of her drink, and continues. I don’t interrupt. “I’ve never done something that my parents disapproved of. I lived for their approval. My father just doesn’t want me to get hurt.”
She looks at the table next to us. The couple there are laughing loud enough to gain her attention. Her father knows what a risk I am; what if Sadie thinks that too? I silence the doubt instantly. She still believes the good is greater than the risk.
“He told me to leave, so after you leave tomorrow, I’m going to stay with Kate. She went to my place tonight to pack a couple bags,” she adds. My brows draw in.
“You aren’t staying with Kate, angel, you’re staying at our home.” I take her hand and bring it to my lips.
“I don’t want to barge in and take up your space.” She laughs. I chuckle back.
“Sadie. We got married. Did you think nothing was going to change? That we would live in different places?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I have no idea what comes next.” There is so much worry and hurt to unpack here, and right now Sadie is looking for a beacon in the night.
“What comes next is we take it day by day. You continue school. I go on these next tour dates and then come home. Until then, you will barge in and take up all our fucking space. Because it’s ours. I will provide for you, Sadie. And I am sorry.” I pause, running my thumb against the back of her hand. “Sorry that your parents didn’t want this. Sorry you had to marry me without them. And sorry that this is a bumpy start. But I promise you that your parents will come around. I won’t let you live life without them. Okay?” Sadie is now teary-eyed, and she nods rapidly.
“Mm-hmm,” she hums behind closed lips and trembling jaw. She doesn’t want to cry in public, and I don’t want that either. But she needs to have some hope so we can start this marriage off right. “I still can’t believe it happened so fast.” She laughs, wiping away the tears and taking another sip of her tea in an attempt to keep them away.
“We make our own rules.”
“True.” Sadie and I have done everything from day one backward. Even the guys in the band told me we were insane, but the only person I care about is Sadie. I don’t care if everyone thinks we are making a mistake; I only care if Sadie thinks we are.
“Ben?” She hesitates, keeping her eyes on my hand in hers.
“Hmm, baby?”
“What was your mom like?” Her question comes out of left field.
“Um . . .” I pause, thinking of how the hell I want to answer this. I don’t ever talk about my mother with anyone but my therapist, and even he gets only a highlight reel. I have never opened up fully about the life I had before she died.
“You don’t have to talk about it if it’s too hard. We can talk about something else.” She tries to brush it off, but I decide it’s only right. She bared her wounds, and I will bear mine.
“No, it’s all right. There is so much about her, I don’t know where to start. She was incredible.”
Sadie smiles.
“She loved music. It was a huge part of her life. She was always singing—in the kitchen, driving, while doing laundry, in the shower.”
“I bet. You have an incredible voice, it had to come from somewhere.”
“Thanks, baby. She would have loved you.” I think of all the things I’ve accomplished with music, and hands down, my marriage to Sadie outshines them all. My mother would be beaming if she could see me now.
“I would have loved her too.”
“Her favorite thing to do other than singing was baking. She could cook and bake anything from scratch, swear it.”
“Oh really? Good thing you married yourself a Southern girl. Mama taught me how to cook.”
“Did she?” I smirk, leaning in to kiss her gently.
“I could be a world-renowned chef at this point”—she pulls away—“and maybe if you’re real good, I will have a home-cooked meal on the table every night that you are home from touring.” I appreciate that she let me give her those little bits of information without pushing me. Slowly, I will be able to tell her more and more.
“I’ll be a real good boy, baby. I swear.” I kiss her again, and she lingers a little bit longer.
“Thank you for telling me a little about her. When you’re ready, I would love to know more.” She kisses me again, not pushing me past that.
Her cherry lip gloss stains my mouth, and I taste it on my tongue as I lick my lips. Damn, she’s good. Pulling back with a shake of her head, she watches me hum her praise.
“I need to use the restroom. I’ll be back.” I watch those hips sway, because she has a body that is worth admiring. And I have the right as her husband to look.
Our food comes to the table while she’s gone, and I wait to dig in, not wanting to start without her. As I take a swig of my beer, I see her over the rim of the glass, but she’s not alone. At the bar, a man who looks like a frat boy fresh out of a catalog has his hand on her waist and her attention on him.
That same waist where my hands were an hour ago, owning her. The smile she wears as he flirts with her is mine. A stranger is grabbing my wife in a bar and doesn’t bother to keep his hands off her body, and she’s fucking smiling like she enjoys the attention?
I start to feel the mania set in, that heat up my spine trickling through all my nerve endings. I clench my fist and stand, attempting to rein myself in before I reach her, and by hell, I almost do until his lips touch her cheek.
“Hey!” I’m on him in a few strides, pushing his chest and coming between him and Sadie. “Want to keep your fucking hands off my wife?” I push his chest again, this time causing him to lean up against the bar. The other restaurant guests start staring.
“Ben! Hey, stop!” Sadie grabs my arm, and I use all my weight to stand tall, not backing down.
“Your wife? Sadie, what’s this guy talking about?” He tries to brush me off and looks at Sadie over my shoulder.
I get in his face. “Don’t fucking look at her, you look at me. I’m her husband, and as far as I’m concerned, your hands don’t need to be touching her.”
“Ben!” Sadie grabs my arm and tugs again.
“No, he was touching you, and you let him.” I turn to her and glare.
“I know him. He’s a family friend, he’s Mike’s brother!”
Mike. Fucking Mike, the perfect ex whom I have yet to see. If he looks like his brother, then I hate the dick more. This guy is at least six foot four and two hundred pounds of football muscle. Add in his frat boy haircut and khakis and he’s the perfect poster child for every parent’s wet dream.
“I don’t care,” I snap.
“Well, I do!” Sadie comes and stands between us, and for a split second, I watch his eyes wander over her backside, and I snap.
“You don’t know when to stop, do you?” Moving around Sadie, I grab his shirt. All the rage seeps in, and I throw him down on the bar.
“Ben! Stop it!” Sadie is pulling at me along with the fucker’s buddies. Before I can set the asshole straight with my fist, my arms are yanked, and I lose my grip on him.
“Dean, I’m so sorry,” Sadie apologizes, and when I turn to give her an incredulous look, I’m met with her retreating figure. I see security coming in my direction, so I pull back. Looking over at the guy she called Dean, I shrug his buddies off me.
“You and your brother make sure you find yourselves anywhere but near her, got it?” He nods, doing the right thing by shutting his preppy little mouth. “Good.”
Security comes up and asks me to leave the bar or I will be asked to leave the hotel. I do so willingly, still angry but more concerned about getting to Sadie. Because tonight, she saw it. Saw a glimpse of the anger that lives in me. The beast that lurks in the shadows came out of hiding and nearly scared her out of her skin. The way her eyes looked before she walked away? That look may stick with me forever.
I fucked up, but more importantly, I can’t control it. Fuck me, I wish I could, but I can’t. I go to therapy and take my medication, but there is something that still won’t work. What it is? I don’t know. It eats me alive. Catching an elevator before it closes, I hurry up to the room. Bursting in the door, I yell for Sadie.
“Baby, where are you?” I step further in and see Sadie sitting by the window, looking out over Seattle’s skyline.
“Can I have a minute, please?” Her voice is distant.
“Hey, listen. All I need is my medicine and I’ll calm down, okay?”
“Sure, go ahead. I think I need a minute to myself too.” She looks over her shoulder; her eyes are red, and mascara lines make their way down her defined cheekbones.
I all but growl as my fists tighten at my sides and my jaw clenches so tightly I could break through wood.
“We aren’t done here.” Grabbing my bag, I go into the bathroom. I rummage through my bag and look for my medication, but when I sift through everything, I realize I left it at home. Great, fucking great. I take a few deep breaths as my body twitches, the sweat still rushing out of my pores. That’s my fucking body trying to calm down, all because I worry that if Sadie sees me in a full-fledged rage, a damn annulment may be in my near future. Thank God I still have the pre-rolled joint. Pulling it out, I get my lighter from my bag.
You don’t forget your lighter, but you forget your meds? Nice, Ben. Real nice . I take a long drag the second it’s lit.
“Ben?” Her soft voice sounds from the other side of the closed door.
“Yeah?” I take another drag, the smoke filling my lungs.
“Can I come in?”
“Give me a minute.” That came out more agitated than I intended, but I’m angry and manic, and she’s confused and hurt. I don’t want to add anything else. Day one of marriage, and I’m undoubtedly fucking it up.
“Don’t push me out like you did last time. We talked about this, Ben.” There’s a touch of irritation in her voice.
“I’m trying to calm down, and you’re the one who told me to give you space.”
“Please calm down with me. Help me understand.” Her voice lowers again, and I hear the damage my fucked-up problems have the power to cause. I take another drag, a long one, and hold the smoke in for an extra few seconds before I release it. Wetting the tips of my thumb and pointer finger, I put out the cherry and pinch the edge.
With a deep breath, I open the door, and she’s standing there, still teary and afraid. “Talk to me. What was that?”
I walk past her, keeping my hands to myself, fearing I’ll grab her and fuck the anger out of my system.
“Ben?” Following me, she comes to stand in front of me at the edge of the bed. I sit, shaking my head, hanging it low with regret. The weed is doing its job, but it still needs to fully settle in my system.
“Yes. I was angry seeing another man’s hands on you, okay?” I snap.
“But is that normal for you to become that upset? You could have talked to me, told me how you felt.”
I shake my head repeatedly. “It’s not that simple, Sadie. I can’t control myself sometimes. I can go from zero to sixty and act completely manic.” Her hands go to my shoulders, and she rubs through the thick knots of tension. I’m not sure why she is even talking to me. She wanted space just minutes ago, and now she’s closing the distance between us.
“You can’t react like that over me. You have to understand that you can control your anger when it comes to me. I don’t cheat.”
Scoffing, I stand, separating myself from her touch. “I can’t control it, Sadie. Really? If I could control my anger, then I wouldn’t have a fucking problem! For you to think it’s as simple as deep breaths just shows you have no idea how bad this can get.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. But we talked about trust. Surely you know that you have no reason to not trust me.”
“Yes, I can trust you . It’s other people.”
“I can’t control that, Ben. But what you and I can both control is our commitment. We just got married. That means something, doesn’t it?”
“But his hands, Sadie, his fucking hands touched you!”
“Then let them. Did mine touch his? Did I look like I wanted it in that way?” she replies. I move back to the bed and sit down.
“No, but what if he took it too far? I have to keep you safe, and I don’t want men touching you. You’re my wife.”
“I am your wife, baby,” she says, softening and straddling me. “I love you for wanting to protect me. And yes, if it went too far and I needed you, I would tell you.” She kisses my forehead a few times.
“Goddamn it.” I grip her hips and bury my face in her chest, right above her heart.
“Ben?”
“Angel,” I say against her skin. Her comforting me instead of pushing me away feels welcome but wrong. I don’t deserve that.
“You’re in therapy, but you don’t talk about it much. What is your therapist’s name?”
“Dr. Davinah,” I tell her, finally looking up at her. She moves a piece of my hair that covers my eye.
“What would Dr. Davinah tell you to do in moments like this?”
“There are a lot of things. Take my medication, but that shit knocks me on my ass, so I avoid it. He tells me to talk about it . . .” I hate fucking talking about these things with people.
“How often do you see him?” Sadie keeps rubbing my shoulders. It feels good, and now the high is starting to kick in. Her softness, the high, her touch, it is all merging together to bring me back down to earth.
“Once a week.”
“Please tell me if it’s too much to talk about. But maybe you can see him more than once a week. Is that something you would be willing to do?” I think about this. Is it? I already hate the weekly sessions and the occasional emergency meetings. Therapy hasn’t clicked for me like everyone says it’s supposed to.
“Maybe I am broken, angel. Therapy isn’t working. Everything he says feels easier said than done.” I search her face. It’s still so soft. How is she so damn calm? I wish I could channel that.
“I can come. Maybe having someone there with you to support you would help? Has Nick or one of the guys ever gone?”
I shake my head rapidly. “No, I would rather saw my arm off than let them see me in therapy.”
“You don’t have to shut off your feelings with me,” she whispers.
“But I want to. Look what happened.” I grip her hips and knead them in my hands.
“And I am still here.”
“For what reason I will never know,” I admit, showing all my cards.
“Because I love you. You deserve someone to work through it without judgment.”
Fuck me. How did the universe decide that a saint like her should pick me?
“Can you just be my therapist? Look how much you fucking calm me down.” I point out what we both clearly see. She is a necessity to me now.
“No, I’m your wife. But I want to be your partner, and I want to help you. Let someone be your support, Ben. Land with your feet on the ground. Stop trying to take flight when it gets hard. Land. I am here.”
“I’m not ready to share that part yet, but I think one day I will be.” I have to try something on my own. Sadie can tell me to land, but I have to set boundaries too. If I land, I will crush her.
“That’s okay.”
“Can I hover? Is that okay for now?” I ask.
“Yes, you can hover, but don’t let me be the enemy. I’m not. Trust?”
“Trust.” We both wave the white flag.
“What can I do to make you happy, angel?” I want to make this right, to flip this night back around. I leave tomorrow, and the last thing I want to do is leave with us fighting.