Chapter 28 - Roxie
Roxie
“I have to have you.”
Cash spoke softly, but the words might as well have blared through a loudspeaker the way it thundered through my chest.
My back hit the wall of the changing room, the thin panel shivering with the force of it, and I pressed my palms out flat to steady the vibration, feeling the hollow sound travel through the cheap wood.
Back in the store, a bell chimed as the front door opened.
Someone laughed near the racks of pre-loved jackets. It was business as usual everywhere.
Except in here.
Cash’s mouth found mine, fast and certain, like he’d been holding it back for too long. For too many arenas, too many shows, too many smiles shared across the tour bus. My fingers slid into his hair, and he made a sound that I swallowed into my mouth before it could escape.
“Shhh,” I breathed against his lips, half a warning, half a dare. “We can’t make any noise.”
His smile brushed my cheek. “You think I’m going to make noise?”
“Depends on how much willpower you have.”
“Mhmm…” He groped my ass and pulled me tight against him, the bulge in his pants a promise of what I was in for. “I think I like it when you’re bossy. You can be the new band mom.”
The floor under my feet was uneven, one of the tiles rocking slightly when I shifted my weight.
I became aware of every small thing. The gap at the bottom of the curtain where shoes might pass by.
The hum of the fluorescent light overhead.
Cash’s hands on me, all over, warm and steady, as if he could hold the whole room still by grasping me firmly enough.
He leaned in again, and I met him halfway, keeping the kiss shallow, careful.
My pulse was a steady bassline in my ears, and I wondered if he could hear it, too.
I was pretty sure even the cashier could.
The mirror caught the way my cheeks flushed hot, the way his eyes tracked it with a hunger that made me instantly wet.
Cash knew how much I wanted him, and there was no hiding it. Not anymore.
My hand slid down his arm, feeling muscle under the worn fabric of his jacket, and he inhaled sharply, the sound cutting off when I pressed my mouth to the corner of his jaw instead of where he wanted it.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” he murmured. “Teasing me.”
“You’ve been teasing me for weeks,” I replied, exploring his body with my fingertips. “Suggestive smiles. Light touches. Hugs that linger longer and longer each time.”
“Maybe.” I felt his laugh against my neck.
Whatever minuscule space was left between us vanished.
The wall at my back was cool through my shirt, a contrast to the heat of the bass player pressing in on me, sweeping me up into the grip of his relentless passion.
His forehead touched mine, and for a second, neither of us moved as we listened hard.
For footsteps, voices, anything that would tell us we’d gone too far.
That we had to reel it in and go back out there with this insatiable need still throbbing, begging to be satisfied.
But all I heard was his breathing.
His hand lifted, hesitated, then found my hip through the thin fabric of the thrifted skirt. My body reacted before my brain caught up, a small, betraying movement that made him still completely.
“Roxie,” he said, quiet enough that it felt like a secret.
I didn’t answer, just tilted my head and kissed him again, deep and hard, and he followed, his hand tightening just enough to tell me he was done pretending he had any control over this.
The mirror caught us in pieces. My skirt bunched at my hips.
His jacket slipped from his shoulders and managed to make it onto a hook on the wall, while mine hit the floor, discarded and forgotten.
The look in his eyes when he opened them again, focused and warm and entirely mine in this borrowed little square of space.
The curtain rustled when someone brushed past outside, and we both froze.
“Shit.” His eyes were wide, but still on fire.
I felt his chest expand under my palms as he held his breath.
My own lungs burned. A pair of shoes stopped just on the other side of the thin barrier, the outline of them visible through the gap at the bottom.
I could see the worn heel, the frayed shoelace.
Could hear the faint shuffle of someone shifting their weight.
My mouth was still against Cash’s neck, and I didn’t dare move it. One unbidden sound and this would all be over.
And I desperately, severely didn’t want this to end.
The shoes lingered, then turned away. The sound of the curtain rings slid down the rod in the next stall. A soft thump as someone set something down.
Cash let out a slow breath, barely a sound, and I felt it against my cheek.
His eyes met mine in the mirror, dark and bright green at the same time, and the look he gave me was half a question and half a promise.
“You okay?” he mouthed.
I nodded.
He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. “We can stop.”
I shook my head, my smile arriving before I caught it in the mirror. His answering grin flickered and faded, replaced by something steadier as he shifted his stance, careful of the wall, the floor, the thin curtain that barely kept the world out.
I turned slowly so my back was to him, our reflections lined up in the glass, and held his eyes as I lifted my skirt, inch by inch, daring him not to look. This wasn’t like me. The old Roxie would never have the courage to do something like this in a public place.
But I was loving the new me. The girl who toured with rock bands and inspired songs. And I was loving the way Cash gazed at me with pure, intense desire.
He didn’t say a word, but his breathing distinctly changed.
His hand slid around my waist, fingers finding the edge of my panties, then slipping beneath it. My breath caught when he touched me, the kind of sound I had to swallow before it could turn into his name.
With someone right next door, we had to be more careful than ever. But that only turned me on more, emphasizing the taboo aspect of what we were doing. And based on the way he was grinding against my ass while steadily rubbing my clit, it turned Cash on, too.
Behind me, I reached for the zipper on his jeans and drew it down a fraction at a time, every soft rasp too loud in the small space. A cough came from the neighboring stall, and I froze.
We both did.
Our laughter stayed silent behind tightly pursed lips, heads pressed together, his fingers still moving in slow, patient circles like he wasn’t about to let me off that easily.
“This is insane,” I mouthed.
“Yeah,” he murmured an inch from my ear. “But I don’t care.”
I tipped my head back just enough for him to find my neck, and the way he paused there, breath hovering instead of touching, made my knees go weak. He didn’t rush it. He made me wait for every inch, every second, until the waiting became its own kind of thrill.
Was I really doing this? Here, now, with Cash—after already being involved with his bandmate?
As his fingers pressed harder against my clit, I knew the answer was an emphatic: hell yes.
His lips finally made contact, setting every nerve in my body on fire.
My hips matched the timing of his fingers stroking my clit.
My sex ached for him, throbbing to feel the sweet release as he teased me closer.
I tried to urge him faster as my need grew, but he kept the slow, deliciously torturous pace.
His other hand traced up my arm and nudged the strap of my top loose.
My breath caught as he found my exposed nipple, eager for his attention.
He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, pinching just hard enough for me to feel it down in my core.
I caught his eyes in the mirror, heavy-lidded and intent.
“I do like this top,” he whispered. “I like it a lot.”
He teased my entrance and slipped one finger inside me, then two.
I bit back a moan as I slipped my hand down his pants until I found his hard length.
His breathing grew heavy in my ear, the rhythm of his fingers becoming more urgent.
With a few more minutes, he could have gotten me off just like that.
But I needed more.
I turned to face him. “I want you inside of me.”
His green eyes flared with lust.
In one swift movement, he hiked my skirt all the way up and lifted me so my legs wrapped around him. It took everything I had to hold back the squeal of surprise that wanted to escape me.
The thin lace between us did nothing to hide how badly he wanted this, and how badly I did, too.
My thumb brushed the skin at his collarbone where his shirt dipped, and the look that crossed his face softened something deep in my chest. He shifted closer, and I felt the change in him before I saw it, the way his shoulders loosened like he’d decided to stop holding himself back.
My hand slid up his chest, following the steady beat under my palm, and he closed his eyes for half a second like he needed the dark to keep himself together.
Cash rested his hand over mine, stilling it. “Tell me again.”
“Hmm?”
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded in a soft, but insistent voice. “I like to hear you say it.”
I bit my lip and whispered, “I want you. Inside of me.”
He groaned, not pulling away, just anchoring me there with him. “I don’t think you can stay quiet.”
I studied his face, the familiar calm there, the kind that made him feel like the steady one in the band. The quiet one who watched instead of charged ahead. I should have known this animal was burning inside of him all this time.
“I can try.”
“You sure, Rox?” He pressed his hard cock into the dampness growing between my legs. “Because if you can’t, you need to tell me now.”
I bit my lips together and nodded quickly, which made his mouth curve into a wry grin.
We stayed like that for a beat longer, bodies close, breath shared, the thrill of being almost found out threading through everything we did.
The person in the next stall seemed to have finished, because we heard the curtain rings slide open and footsteps fade as they made their way to the counter.
In the mirror, I saw the way Cash looked at me. Like this moment, this ridiculous, risky, perfect moment, was something he meant to make the most of.
And then he did.