Twenty-Seven - River
“Have a good night, boys,” I say, sauntering out of the band house at midnight with my head held high.
Three days of running them through the wringer has every muscle in my body wound tighter than a damn spring. Ready to unload.
Three days of watching their asses sway on stage.
Sexy, stupid bastards. Why do they have to look so damn good and delicious in their natural habitat?
Three days of watching the sweat drip down their bare chests as they move with grins on their faces. Three goddamn miserable days of watching girls flock to their sides, pawing at them, and helplessly watching as I kept my shit together with gritted teeth and fake smiles.
Now, I’m free from them for a few days. I don’t know why I thought this torture would be good for them. They flew through my rigorous training exercise with ease.
Bastards.
Sure, the first concert was like watching a cactus soak in the sun. They were stiff pricks, avoiding eye contact with each other, including the roaring crowd. After that, they took my critical notes and ran with them like wild animals. Everything I laid down, they took it like champs.
I had to get creative by torturing their asses somehow and enact a little revenge of my own. I can’t exactly burn the house down with them inside to get some retribution, so… I may have overextended their abilities on stage.
Just a little. Three shows in a thirty-hour period isn’t too horrible. They survived. Maybe on fumes.
Okay, maybe it was just a little too much.
So, fucking sue me.
If I had it my way, I would have shoved them on a boat, duct taped and unconscious, and driven them out to sea. Sleep with the fishes now, boys.
Fuck. Not really. I couldn’t do that. They’ve been?—
Great.
So, fucking wonderful with Ly. They’ve been here for me, too. Every step of the way. They aren’t fighting me on the demands I’m putting them through.
Asher makes her fucking breakfast every morning and brings it over. Even though looking at him simultaneously breaks my heart and hardens it. He’s still so bruised from their punches. And so damn subdued and polite.
It’s hard to hate a man who isn’t the same person he was years before when he pulled this stunt. He may wear the same face, but the demon that once sat on his shoulders disappeared the moment he confessed. Maybe my exorcisms really worked.
See? So damn conflicted.
Callum reads her bedtime stories, and sometimes Rad joins in for comedic relief.
Kieran spends as much time as possible with her on the beach with his guitar in his hand and her on his lap, teaching her the notes.
They’ve been fucking great. It both pleases the piss out of me and irritates me to no end.
Why couldn’t they be bastards so I could continue to hate them?
But no. That’s not what I want either.
Goddamn, my head aches with all the different opinions rattling through my head. I try to remember what Rocco and I talked about when he dropped soup off a few weeks ago and live by that mantra. I can’t fault these men for trying their hardest. Even when they fucked up in the worst possible way.
Take it day by day. Don’t roll over and forgive them. Make them beg. Make them get on their damn knees and earn your trust back. Let them see Lyric and prove themselves to her and to you.
And I’ve done that. I haven’t rolled over. Or forgiven them. It may be on the horizon. Sometime in the close future. But not yet. They still deserve more shit from me.
I slam through the front door of the band house and beeline it toward the beach behind my home. Nothing says refreshing like yelling at the ocean at midnight until your throat is raspy and your emotions are spent. It’s the remedy to my problems. For now, at least.
As soon as the warm night air hits my skin, everything crumbles. My facade. My walls. My fucking hormones. I’m in shambles. Reeling from the effects of being in their presence. How can four men wreck me so damn hard without even trying to?
Who said being a badass HBIC was easy? Commanding Whispered Words on what to do while performing on stage is hard as fuck. I’m feeling the after-effects of watching them for hours.
Vivid memories of their hands running down their bare chests as they whipped their shirts off and tossed them in my direction. Always at me. Never the screaming girls. Whether I was standing just off stage or in the front row, they made sure their shirts were mine. Sweat-soaked and all.
God fucking damn it. My head spins, weaving a mess of webs in my mind. Should I jump in headfirst, or should I just let them be fathers? It rattles around in my messed-up brain, pushing me further down the rabbit hole.
My broken heart is slowly stitching together piece by piece. They’re the menders of my soul. How fucking ironic, huh? The men who broke it are now fixing it with the little things. It’s always the fucking little things.
We’ve talked. Cried. Yelled. Argued. Raised our voices. Every bit of healing conversation has been present. The sorrys and stepping up are all there. They’re taking therapy extra seriously, too, which surprised the hell out of me. I never expected the guys to willingly talk to a stranger. I knew it would benefit them, especially after learning about their upbringing. Hell, Asher even goes into her office an additional time each week, and Kieran tags along.
Yet, I remember the way I felt when they walked away. They fucking eviscerated me. My heart literally shattered in my chest, turning into tiny fragments of what I once was and numbing me for so long. I tried every day to forget their existence. Whispered Words, who? But it never worked. Every time I felt Lyric kick inside me, I was reminded of who helped put her there. And the moment I finally saw her eyes, I fucking broke in half.
Three of them had no clue what trap they were falling into. Only one knew the truth this whole time. He’s the man suffering the most with the remnants of his bruises and the alienation.
He’s also trying, too.
How can I be so damn conflicted on something so simple? Do I trust them again, or do I take my chances? Do I drown them in the sea, or keep them afloat?
“Fuckkkkkkkkk!” I shout into the night sky as I stand at the edge of the sea. “Give me a damn sign. Give me something!” I roar at the sparkling stars. They give nothing back. “I just don’t know what to do or how to feel—” I trail off, sinking my teeth into my lip. “I just want to know what to do with the future.”
Stepping forward, I sigh when the cool water soaks through my shoes. Shivers burst up my spine the moment the water retreats and then splashes me again.
My head falls back, and I groan, counting the dots in the sky.
It’s times like these that I’m thankful for my family. They may have come later in life, but I feel more loved and adored than I did throughout my entire childhood.
Kaycee let Lyric come over for a three-day sleepover so I could take care of business with the boys. Not only did it give me free time to reflect on all this bullshit, but I didn’t have to worry about Ly. She’s safe with her cousins, aunt, and uncles.
And I’m here. Horny and miserable. How could my life get any worse?
Looking out into the soft waves of the dark ocean, I take a deep breath. I’ve got this. Tits up and all that good badass girl shit. I’ll navigate through these muddy waters as best I can. After I change my now wet shoes and pants, that is. As therapeutic as screaming at the sky was, it doesn’t solve a damn thing.
I huff, walking up the beach toward my house, getting sand in and on my damn shoes. With a grunt, I toss them on the back porch with a mental note to clean them later.
After securing my home and taking a hot shower, I grab a tall glass of white wine, open my window, and stand in the middle of my bed naked.
The beautiful sound of the waves crashing against the sand filters through my room, relaxing every inch of my body.
The soft, warm breeze brushes against my bare skin as I close the curtains and secure the wedge so no one can push the window open further. You know, like my stalker who looms in the back of my mind. Always there. Every step I take, I swear he’s behind me, watching my every move and taking pictures. I shudder at the thought but try not to let him rule my life. I’m vigilant with everything I do. House alarm. Locking my doors. Having a guard at the end of the drive. I know he’s been in here before, invading my damn privacy. But I won’t allow some pussy coward, who hangs in the shadows, to steal my peace from me. This is my home. My haven.
I nibble my lip. At some point, I’m going to have to clue the guys in on what’s been happening to me. I have a stalker. He takes pictures of me. Follows me around like a lost puppy dog but never shows his damn face. Fuck. How can I tell them? Do I sit them down for a meeting and casually throw it out there? No. I can’t. It’ll change everything once they find out. They’ll look at me differently and… I’m not ready for that.
I groan at the pent-up tension coiling in the pit of my stomach, begging me to unleash the feeling. My thighs tighten, and my breaths pick up as I imagine laying back in bed and relieving myself to the images of the boys across the street.
I chug the last of my wine, setting the glass down on my end table. Plopping on my bed, I reach over and open the drawer beside me with a grin. Oh yes, this will do.
“There you are,” I murmur, pulling my rose-shaped vibrator out. Energy hums through me, prepping my body for the orgasm I’m about to bless it with. “I’ve missed you,” I murmur, aching to kiss it in relief.
Lying back on the bed, I settle myself on my pillows with a loud sigh. The cool sheets encase me in their grasp as my eyes flutter shut.
My imagination ignites into naughty fantasies as the little rose rapidly thumps against my aching clit, begging for sweet relief. Bring on the orgasm that’s been building for the past three days.
Fire roars through my veins as images pour through my mind at a rapid pace. A moan slips from my lips as I reach down and plunge my fingers into my pussy, pumping them in and out.
The vibrations around my clit send liquid lust straight through me. My back bows when my head falls back into the pillow. Moan after moan fills the room, and I’m panting, mentally begging for the real thing. Loud, thumping footfalls stop me in my tracks just outside my window. My heart plummets into my ass. My worst fears are coming true. Visions of my stalker standing outside my window, listening to me getting myself off have me recoiling. Until I hear my stalker’s voice just outside my window…
“Shh, fuckers. Did you hear that?”
Relief slams through me as I hold my breath at the sound of Rad’s voice. It’s so close. Like he’s whispering dirty words straight into my ear. Shit! My pussy flutters around my fingers. A moan bubbles up my throat. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, suppressing the noise when my fingers curl inside myself.
“It sounded like screaming,” Kieran remarks.
“I’m sure it was an animal,” Callum murmurs.
“Now, shut the fuck up. We’re going for a swim, and that’s it,” Kieran urges them on with his commanding voice.
“Fucking finally. You think my Pretty Girl is still awake?” No! I’m not awake. Don’t you fucking dare, Ashton.
“All the lights are off. What are you doing?” Callum grumbles as footsteps approach near the window above my head.
If he peeks in, he’s going to get a full view of my fingers in my cunt and my vibe against my clit.
“Don’t you fucking look in the window, you creep. She’d remove your balls and feed them to you.”
Well, he’s not wrong.
Time to have a little fun with those assholes who drive me insane. Time for another goddamn punishment.
A thrill shoots through me, tingling through my limbs as my orgasm builds. Something about them being outside my window, able to hear what’s going on, heightens my desire.
“Fuck,” I moan as loud as I can, gasping for breath.
“Don’t cum yet, Pretty Girl,” he wheezes outside the window. “Don’t do it. Wait for me!”
“But I’m so close,” I grit out. “And this is my damn show. I do what I want. You don’t get to cum.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Tell me she’s not…” A rustling happens, and I grin when I feel his gaze wandering over my naked body sprawled out on the bed. “Yup. She is.”
“What?” Callum asks with desperation.
More rustling happens until they’re all standing in my window, watching me as I’m about to unravel.
I huff when Kieran groans beside Rad in the window. But I refuse to look at them.
“Shut up and watch. No coming,” I demand, working my fingers harder inside myself. “Fuck,” I moan in a raspy voice, throwing my head back. My heart thumps wildly in my chest.
“This is torture,” Rad groans.
Yeah, that’s the point. It’s what I want. They deserve to suffer after teasing me for so many days.
“You’re going to cum, River Blue. Cum right now!” Kieran demands, growling through the screen with such force I fucking combust.
His voice carries me through the most explosive orgasm I’ve felt in years. It’s like I needed them to bear witness to my final crumble.
Blowing out a breath, I throw my rose back into her drawer. I’ll just clean her later. “Okay, boys. Go home,” I say, making a shooing motion with my hand.
“Go?” Rad all but shouts in hysterics. “My dick is currently saluting and applauding your performance. I can’t leave. He needs to show you how much he loved it!”
I snort, staring up at the window with no shame. Thank God for liquid courage. I may regret this in the morning. Or not. I got a damn orgasm and showed these assfaces that I don’t need no man to get me off. It’d be nice, don’t get me wrong. But that’s not the point I’m trying to prove. I could have walked into Rad’s room, demanded he strips, and then went to pound town. But I didn’t. I did it all on my own.
“Go stroke your dick to the memory of me, assfaces. Because this is all you’re getting,” I say, throwing a long T-shirt on, covering my naked body.
“Little Star,” Callum mumbles through the screen with desperation in his eyes.
“Sorry, boys. I’m all relaxed and sleepy now. Have a good night!” I say, jumping up onto the middle of my bed, bringing me face to face with my peeping toms.
“Fine,” Kieran grumbles, glaring at me with lust filling his eyes.
“See you later, Pretty Girl! I’ll think of you as I’m stroking my cock in the shower and cum with your name on my lips.”
I shudder at the imagery, eliciting a grin from Rad.
As soon as they’re walking away, I shut my window and curtains with a sense of pride puffing out my chest.
They can look all they want. But I won’t let them touch me until they’ve proven themselves more.
I grin more when my phone buzzes. Swiping it off my end table, I swipe it open and fucking freeze.
Unknown number
I heard what you did.
You’re more beautiful than I remember. Next time you’ll cum with my name on your lips—Not theirs.
You’re MINE, goddamn it!!
It’s about time you realized it.
My breaths heave when I forward the messages to Olivia and Carter, who get back to me right away.
Olivia
I’m on it, babe. Don’t worry.
Carter
Get the fuck over here…