37. Callie
37
CALLIE
We’ve only been back at the hotel twenty minutes before I find myself knocking on Sav’s door.
If I don’t do it now, I’ll lose my nerve, and I refuse to put myself in a vulnerable position again. Not without covering all my bases. Not without being almost certain that I’m safe.
When the door opens, Sav’s still in pajamas with her hair in a messy bun, her dog wagging her body on the floor beside her. Ziggy attacks my legs with kisses, and when Sav sees it’s me, her face falls and her eyes flare as she waves me in.
“How are you doing? Fuck, what a mess, right? I told you those bastards are ruthless.”
I huff out a laugh. “Word travels fast.”
“Ham just left.”
When she goes to sit on the couch, I stop her with a quick glance around the room. Her security detail is by the wall, and I can hear music coming from Mabel’s room.
“Actually, Sav, can I talk to you in private?”
She pauses for a second before answering. “Yeah. We can talk in my room. Levi’s at the fitness center.”
I follow her into her bedroom. She takes a seat on the unmade bed, and I sit in a chair in the corner. It’s only a little awkward. I take a deep breath before speaking.
“I want to ask you a question, and I want you to be totally honest with me. And I need you to know that no matter what you say, I won’t break my contract. I’ll still stay and help however I can with the whole stalker media diversion thing. If you want me to, of course. But I just...I need to know.”
Savannah sighs and gives me a grim smile.
“Callie, there is absolutely zero truth to the shit they printed today about me and Torren. There hasn’t been truth to it for a long ass time, now. But it’s a juicy story and they print what sells.”
When I don’t speak, she keeps talking.
“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m completely obsessed with Levi,” she says with a smile that almost looks shy.
It’s the smile that makes me listen closer. It makes me open my heart more to what she’s saying.
“I’ve been in love with him since I was fifteen. It never changed. Torren and I...god, we were terrible for each other. We were terrible to each other. I did and said a lot of things I regret, and one of the biggest is dragging things out with him as long as we did. You have nothing to worry about. Trust me.”
I bite the inside of my cheek as I consider what she’s just told me. The more I think about it, the more I believe her. But...
“And you’re sure it’s the same for him?”
“Yeah. I’m completely sure.” She smiles softly. “You have feelings for him.”
She doesn’t phrase it as a question, so I don’t answer. I don’t say anything—I just bite my cheek harder—but she still sees something in my expression that makes her smile widen.
“Calla Lily Sunrise James, listen to me.” She leans forward, holding eye contact so fiercely that I feel frozen, held captive by her stormy gray eyes. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. Not about me and Torren, and not about you and Torren. I know it.”
It almost seems as if she wants to say more, like she’s actively biting her tongue on some secret she’s dying to share, but she stays quiet. It makes my respect for her grow, and more importantly, it makes me trust her.
It’s a far cry from how I felt about her a few months ago. I was so certain Sav Loveless was a villain. A corrupt, power-hungry woman with no regard for anyone but herself. I couldn’t have been more wrong .
“Thank you,” I say finally. “I appreciate you being willing to talk to me. I appreciate your honesty.”
“You’re welcome.” Her soft, kind smile morphs to something more mischievous before my eyes, one brow arching almost deviously. “Now, if we’re done with this conversation, I’d like to talk to you about something.”
My brow furrows, my lips mirroring hers without me trying. She’s contagious and all-consuming when she’s like this.
“Okay...”
“How close are you with Becket, Rocky, Pike, and Ezra? You still talk?”
I tilt my head to the side and try to sus out the reason behind her question, but her face is giving nothing away. Nothing but mischief, and it gives me the feeling she was quite a handful as a child. Wild and fearless and always breaking rules.
“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “Kind of.”
“Kind of?”
“Well, I talk to Ez more than anyone else. But yeah, we’re on speaking terms.”
“They still play?”
“I think so, yeah...”
“Together?”
“Rock, Ezra, and Beck do. They actually were in some talent management thing in Houston a few weeks back. But not Pike. Guess he’s got a girlfriend and a real job, now. Ez says he ditched them.”
Sav hums and nods, pursing her lips. After another painful pause, I can’t fight my curiosity anymore.
“Why? Why do you want to know?”
Her smile returns, and magnetically, so does mine.
“Well, Calla Lily Sunrise James, I’m starting a record label, and I want to sign Caveat Lover.”
My jaw drops, and I blink at her as she grins impishly like some crafty cartoon mastermind. She’s so fucking proud that she shocked me, and a laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it, which just entertains her more.
“Well, whatchya say, Cal? Want to call your boys and see if they can meet us in LA? ”
I give my head a little shake, then blink a few more times. It seems too fucking good to be true. It seems unbelievable. I’m trying to wrap my head around it when something Torren said creeps up from the recesses of my memory. I’m going to fix this , he’d said, and that thought serves as an ice-cold bucket of reality crashing down over my head.
“I don’t want a pity contract, Sav. I don’t want people to say I slept my way into a record deal. It’s bad enough that my manufactured relationship with Torren is what put a spotlight on my band. I won’t be some nepotism baby, too.”
Sav snorts. “You’d have to be my kid to be a nepo baby.”
“You know what I mean.” I roll my eyes. “Thank you, but you don’t have to do this. It’s not necessary. I don’t care what Torren said.”
“Ugh,” Sav groans. “That man does not get to take credit for this. Sure, he suggested it after we found out what our label had done, but it was my idea first. You’ve been on my spreadsheet since that show in Chicago. Torren’s late to the fucking game.”
I shake my head. “Your spreadsheet?”
“Yeah.” She takes her phone off the nightstand and types in her passcode, pulling up the spreadsheet then handing it to me. “Look. It’s my spreadsheet of bands I have my eye on.”
I recognize a few of these bands as I scroll through the list, stopping when I see Caveat Lover. The column contains all our information, but it’s highlighted in red.
“Why are we in red?”
“Because you were already signed when I found you. Which, by the way, was extremely disappointing, but I kept you on there just in case.”
I look up from the phone and cock my head to the side. “You said you saw us in Chicago a few years ago?”
“Yeah. This is something Ham’s been helping me out with for a while now. Once we’re out of our contract—which will be happening sooner than we expected, thank god—I’m launching Rock Loveless Records. Not the cleverest title but Ham says my name is a successful established brand, and I’d be an idiot not to use it. Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s usually right.”
I choke out another unintentional laugh, my head once again spinning around the possibility that’s been laid at my feet.
A record deal .
A record deal with a label that Sav is starting.
The fact that it will be a brand-new venture for her doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Sav doesn’t seem to accept failure, and the way I’ve watched her mother hen this band over the last few months is proof. I’ve gone back and read the old tabloid articles. I’ve paid attention to the side comments and dark-humored jokes. The Hometown Heartless was on the brink of self-destruction, and Sav clawed everyone—herself included—from the foot of the grave by sheer determination.
I know in my gut Sav’s label will be a success. I feel it almost as solidly as the chair on which I sit. That’s what coaxes my excitement out of hiding. My faith in her—which she earned in spite of my raging grudge—and my desire to be part of this with her. My fingers itch to call Ezra. To grab my keyboard and play Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy.” I want to jump up and tell Torren right this second. I want to hug Sav Loveless and fall into a fit of hiccupping, sobbing laughter.
Instead, I give her a calm, not at all creepy smile, and keep my voice as normal as possible as I agree.
“I’ll call the guys now and ask them to meet us in LA.”
Sav claps her hands together once and bounces on the bed. “You won’t regret this, Callie. This is going to be something special. I just know it.”
My eyes start to sting as they threaten to fill with tears, and I suck in a shuddering breath.
“Me too.”
The last show at MSG is brilliant.
The Hometown Heartless are always great live, but this time there’s something else. An excitement glittering in Sav’s eyes, resonating in her voice, amping up the energy in the stadium until every person in the venue is irreparably changed by her performance.
But while Sav is mesmerizing, I can’t keep my eyes off Torren. He’s so fucking beautiful up there, stage lights shimmering off his glistening skin and talented fingers plucking the strings of his bass. I know exactly how those fingers feel on my body, how his rough callouses can illicit the most erotic sensations with just a feather-like touch. I haven’t gone a single night without those hands on me. In me. Driving me wild. Just thinking about it makes heat surge through my bloodstream, and his unwavering attention tonight only makes it worse.
Torren’s eyes have barely left me all evening. He didn’t want me in the crowd tonight due to the newest gossip, but Ham insisted, and I agreed. We have to stay the course. We have to go on as if nothing is wrong. One misstep and we’ll only fuel the rumors. Reluctantly, Torren conceded, but the result is his eyes on me constantly.
While he sings and smirks and winks, sweaty and sexy, Torren’s focus never leaves me. At one point, while Sav works the crowd, he blows me a fucking kiss and mouths hi baby in my direction. I can barely register the crowd’s shrieking reaction over the sound of my own heart beating frantically in my ears. Sometimes this man leaves me so off-balance that it’s all I can do not to faceplant on the cement, and it’s becoming a more common occurrence with every passing day. He’s a cyclone, and he turns me into a raging fucking wildfire of hormones. It’s all I can do to breathe through it and pretend like every ounce of blood in my body isn’t rushing to all my erogenous zones.
Fucking Torren King. I’m wet in a crowd of thousands of people, and he hasn’t even touched me. By the time the band finishes the last encore song, my restraint has been worn to nothing. I’m needy and aching for him, and when he spots me backstage, I know he can tell.
He smirks, eyes dragging up and down my body as he grabs an offered towel from a roadie. Instead of rushing to me, he stops and runs the towel over his face and chest. His naked, sculpted chest. The same chest I had my palms on as I rode him last night. The memory taunts me, the ghost of his touch making my clit throb. When he finally reaches me, he wraps his arms around my waist and bites his lip before giving my ass a squeeze.
“Firebird, you need to work on your poker face because I can read every naughty thing going on in your head.”
I don’t bother denying it, and the heated flush that colors my chest, neck and face has nothing to do with embarrassment.
“Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”
God, even my voice sounds horny. Breathy and needy and horny as hell. When he presses himself against me, dick already hard against my stomach, I have to choke back a shameless moan .
“I think I have a guess.”
I press my pelvis forward and he grunts. I smile. “Then what are you waiting for?”
His expression goes hooded, lustful, then he lifts me up and throws me over his shoulder. I yelp and then laugh as he rushes to the dressing room. Roadies and stage workers watch us curiously, but I don’t have time to say anything. They’re all a blur as Torren pushes past them, and within seconds he’s barging into the dressing room and pointing at Jonah.
“Get out.”
“The fuck?”
“Out. Now.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Jonah grumbles, but he doesn’t argue, and he doesn’t even look my way as he stalks out, slamming the door behind him.
Torren sets me on my feet, spins me around, and presses my back against the door. He reaches behind my back to turn the lock, then drops to his knees. Within seconds, my shorts are at my ankles and his face is sunk between my thighs. He inhales deeply, humming.
“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you. The way you smell. The way you taste.”
His mouth covers my pussy, and his tongue laves against the silk fabric of my underwear. I grab his hair and tug, staring down my heaving chest at him. He pulls back, just far enough to crook his finger into the crotch of my panties and pull it aside. I’m hot, wet, and aching for him. When he puts his mouth on me again, that wicked tongue of his wastes no time.
“Jesus, Tor.”
My back bows. I press myself against him, grinding on his tongue without inhibition. We’re past that now. I have no issue with riding his face in the dressing room after a sold-out show. I don’t even care if someone hears me at this point. I’m that gone for him.
Torren slides two fingers into me, thrusting roughly as he sucks my clit, and I come with a strangled cry in a matter of seconds. I barely catch my breath before he’s kissing me, driving me crazy with the way he tastes of me. Blood pulses through my lips, my clit, my nipples. I want to rub myself on him to get some relief. I want to feel him .
My hands go straight to his pants, undoing the button and shoving my hand into his underwear so I can wrap my fingers around his hard cock. We both moan as I squeeze, using my other hand to shove his pants down his narrow hips.
He keeps his arms braced on the door, caging my head between sculpted, tattooed forearms. His lips stay parted, breathing heavily and watching with rapt attention as I touch him frantically. As soon as his pants are below his ass, his cock jutting out proudly between us, I notch my leg on his hip and guide him to my pussy. He shoves into me in one stroke, our pelvises kissing as I gasp.
“I dream about this, Firebird. I wake up hard as fuck just needing to be inside you.”
He hits me deep with small pumps of his hips, pinning me to the door with his whole body, and I meet his thrusts with matching ones of my own. I can’t get enough of the way he looks when I fuck him back, when I move on him like this. His green eyes are thin halos around his enlarged pupils, his full lips flushed and swollen as he pants. When I clench around him, his lashes flutter, his eyes roll back, and he lets out a groan that vibrates in his chest.
“God damn it, you were made for me.” He speeds up his movements. “You were fucking made for me, baby.”
He snakes his hand between our bodies and rubs my clit, the sensation setting my whole body ablaze. I tingle from my head to my toes. When he thrusts harder, faster, my moans resemble chants, crying out every time he hits that place deep inside me.
“I’m going to come,” I manage to force out just before my orgasm crashes over me.
I sound like I’m drowning, unable to make a full sound due to the way the air has been sucked from my lungs. The way my soul is fucking rattled. It takes me several moments before I can feel my limbs again, and my pussy pulsates around his dick. When I finally open my eyes, I can tell from his face that he’s holding on for me.
“You want to come?” I ask breathlessly.
“Fuck, I do.”
I move my hands to his chest and push, backing him up and breaking our connection, then I drop to my knees .
“Christ.” It’s barely a whisper, then he stares, lips parted, as I take his cock down my throat. “Fuck, baby. Fuck.”
I only have to pump him twice, swallow around him once, before he’s filling my mouth with his release with a long, drawn-out groan. I suck him until he pulls out of my mouth and tugs me back to my feet.
“Firebird, you’re trying to kill me,” he rasps, kissing my lips while he tries to catch his breath. “You’re going to fucking kill me.”
I smirk. “I didn’t think there was anything I could do to surprise you, King.”
I mean it. I’m sure there’s not a damn thing he hasn’t done or had done to him. It doesn’t bother me. It’s just a fact. Letting him fuck me against the door is likely tame compared to his past antics.
Torren chuckles. “Baby, everything you do surprises me. Everything.”