Chapter 35 - Roxie
Roxie
It wasn’t the same as a hotel room, but it was so delightful to have the tour bus to myself.
My own little bunk cocoon, with the curtain drawn, the lights off, and my own private Cherry Midnight show playing on the screen and singing in my ears.
Even though I’d seen plenty of their shows live and in person, it was always from the wings of the stage—with the exception of the first show when they opened for Rainknife.
The show on my screen used professional camera work, zooming in on each individual member of the band. I could see their expressions, the passion in their eyes as they played their instruments and gave the crowd what they want.
It was incredibly attractive.
With the help of the vibrator, I came quickly—and then a second time, even more intense than the first. I shook and shuddered with release as the camera zoomed in on Milo, twirling one drumstick while pounding with the other.
And then, as the orgasm faded like the last note of a song, the privacy curtain of my bunk snapped open.
Milo’s grin hit me immediately.
“Well,” he said, eyes flicking once, quick and appreciative, then looking back to my face. “You scared me for a second, but I guess I was worrying about nothing.”
“Shit!” I hissed, lunging for the curtain, but Milo was faster, slipping inside and sliding it shut again like he’d done this a hundred times.
“Sorry,” he muttered. He was already climbing into the bunk, all long limbs and easy confidence, like this was exactly where he’d meant to end up. “I heard you making noises, but I was afraid you were dying or something. I didn’t realize you were…”
I swallowed back a hasty admission before it could give me away more than the throbbing between my legs.
The space shrank instantly, the narrow mattress dipping under his weight, the curtain brushing my shoulder. Milo leaned in, close enough that I could smell his sweat from the show, feel the heat of him, see the spark in his eyes that meant he was enjoying this far too much.
“Hi,” he said, his face a breath away from mine.
“Hi.” I closed my eyes. “Did the show end early?”
“The start time was moved up.” His shoulder and knee brushed against mine in the small space we were sharing. “We were heading out to get drinks after the show. I had to come grab my wallet, and volunteered to check on you.”
“Great,” I murmured. “Is it too late to pretend like I was having a really weird dream?”
“I can pretend if you want.” His hand settled on my thigh, casual and familiar but impossibly warm, thumb tapping once like punctuation.
“Not trying to embarrass you or anything. Say the word, and I’ll leave and never mention this again.
I grew up learning how to keep secrets. And the last thing I want is to make you feel uncomfortable about—”
I grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a kiss.
He laughed into my mouth, but kissed me back like he’d been waiting for this moment all day. It was all confidence and play, his mouth coaxing instead of claiming, his hand sliding higher as he beckoned me to dive into this moment with him.
As if it weren’t inevitable.
“You know,” he murmured against my lips, “this might be a terrible idea.”
I smiled. “I’ve learned on this tour that you love terrible ideas.”
“I excel at them.” He grinned wider. “Vi says it’s my best trait.”
Milo shifted, pinning me gently underneath him. His eyes flicked to the curtain, then back to me, mischief bright and unmistakable.
That’s when I decided that I definitely, desperately wanted this.
“You’re not afraid of getting sick?” I asked.
“You seem mostly recovered,” he replied, his lips only an inch from mine and his eyes boring into me with an intensity that thrilled me.
“And if you’re not? I don’t give a single fuck.
Because there’s one thing I want, one thing I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since you agreed to go on a date with me. ”
“What’s that?” I whispered. I would have given anything to hear him say it out loud. “What have you wanted?”
“To pound you like a drum.” His lips brushed against mine, his tongue flicking out. “But if you’d rather protect your modesty and wait until after our date…”
“Fuck our date,” I replied, certainty growing. “And fuck my modesty. I gave up on it when I started sleeping with multiple members of the band.”
I laughed, biting it back before it could escape, and he kissed the sound right out of me, pleased with himself.
“Say no more.”
His hand floated lower and once he made contact, he broke the kiss, his grin turning dangerous as his fingers closed around what he’d found. The thing I’d been holding beneath the blanket…
“Well, well, well. Don’t mind if I do.”
The hum of the vibrator filled the space as he pressed the button. He leaned in, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Portable. I love a practical woman.”
His touch was firm but delicate. I closed my eyes to savor the sensation of his breath and the promise of what was to come.
Milo pulled the vibrator out from under the sheets, examined it a moment, then used it to trace the curve of my neck.
I arched into his touch, my skin tingling with anticipation.
He teased me, drawing out the moment as much as his own desire would allow.
His fingers brushed against my collarbone and my heartbeat kicked up a gear.
“Did you get to come already?” he breathed. “It sounded like it, but I don’t know you that well. Yet.”
“Mmm hmm,” I said, pushing my hips up into him. I was already warmed up and craving the real thing.
“And watching our concert instead of porn? Damn, Rox.”
I bit my lip. “You’re better than porn.”
“Me, or Cherry Midnight as a whole?” He arched an eyebrow.
I finally stopped holding back and decided to surrender to the moment we were sharing, to cast aside whatever reservations had remained within me. “Both. I love how sexy you are when you’re playing the drums, shirtless and sweaty.”
“You’re even sexier like this,” he said, and I felt a flush of warmth spread across my cheeks. “I could play with you all night. Bring you to the brink, take it back, lead you there again.”
His words were like a drug, and I found myself leaning into his touch, wanting more. Milo, with a confident smile, trailed the vibrator all the way down, over the sensitive skin of my stomach until it reached the meeting of my thighs. Resuming what had been interrupted.
His touch was light at first, a gentle caress that danced along my skin, but soon he found that sweet spot, and he dragged it against my clit in slow, deliberate circles.
The sensation was electric. I could feel a raw, intense need building within me.
I moaned softly, my eyes fluttering shut.
Each stroke brought me closer to the edge.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” his voice rumbled straight into my core. “Or if it’s not enough.”
I responded with a moan and reached down, my hand finding his cock through the denim of his jeans.
He was hard and ready, and I could feel the heat and thickness of it through the fabric.
I squeezed gently, and he let out a low moan.
I unzipped his jeans, freeing his hard-on and wrapping my hand around his shaft.
My grip was firm, but I made sure to match his steady, deliberate rhythm.
A duet of pleasure pinging between us like we’d done this a thousand times before.
Milo’s eyes held a mix of pleasure and surprise, and he leaned back, giving me better access to him.
I took my time, the way he did. I savored the feel of his cock in my hand, the smooth skin and the subtle pulse beneath my fingers.
He watched me, his hips pushing forward with subconscious need.
His breath came in shallow gasps and the unbridled desire burning in his eyes caught me off guard.
I could feel the heat building within me, a fiery core that threatened to expand until it consumed me.
But I held back. I wanted to prolong the exquisite torture, to build it into something more powerful than the two solo orgasms I’d already savored.
Milo sensed my restraint and adjusted his touch, teasing me with an even slower, more deliberate rhythm.
“This is officially my favorite view on this entire bus,” he breathed.
I smiled and tilted my head up, our lips brushing softly. The taste of him, the feel of his tongue against mine, was a heady mix. I pulled him closer, our bodies pressing together in a slow, silent dance.
The tension built gradually, like we had all the time in the world. It was a taut wire ready to snap. But we held it there, enjoying every second. The anticipation and the raw, unfiltered pull that bound us together.
“I have a very bad idea that I think you’re going to like,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “If you want to indulge my appetite for bad ideas.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“These bunks were practically designed for sixty-nining.”
Milo’s suggestion took me by surprise, and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. I slid down the bunk, my knees framing his eager face, and our eyes met for a moment, a silent understanding passing between us.
I shifted, finding my balance above him as the bunk creaked under the change. His hands came to my hips automatically, supporting but also guiding my pussy right where it needed to be.
As I lowered my mouth to his cock, I felt a shiver of anticipation with his hot breath playing over my clit.
His erection was hard and ready. I took my time, licking slowly, exploring every inch of him with my tongue.
I relished in the salty sweetness of his skin, and the way he groaned encouraged me to continue.
My mouth moved with a deliberate rhythm, taking him deeper.
I could feel his hands on my hips, guiding me, urging me on.