25. Kelsey
Kelsey
It’s quiet in the suite without the guys. At first, it was a little weird. I’ve barely had a moment alone since the tour started; thanks to Riot not trusting me and the constant presence of security. But then I realize that without anyone here, I can essentially do whatever I want.
And what I want is to have a bath with bubbles and pretty scents while I do some online shopping with the card Bronx gave me for incidentals on the road. I’m at least going to need hair dye if I’m going to change my look.
The water is hot and smells like flowers. It’s not a scent I would normally wear, but I can’t really complain. It’s been a long while since I’ve been able to afford even the smallest luxuries.
I gather my hair up into a bun on the top of my head and slide beneath the bubbles. What color should I choose? Pink like Riot’s sister-in-law? Blue? Green? Hmmm. I search the internet for options, but nothing feels right. Because I like my natural color. I always have.
That’s not the point though. I’m dying my hair, so I look like someone other than myself. What’s the furthest thing from me that I can do? A smile curves my lips. I fill my cart and put the order in.
Putting my phone down, I relax in the tub. My mind wanders back to the conversation I overheard in the car.
Riot’s sick of my bullshit, is he? What about his? I swear he’s the most arrogant, self-absorbed man I have ever met. How did I ever fall for him?
He wasn’t always such a huge jerk, was he? Before the band got noticed, he had been sweet. He was kind. He was my safe place. I needed that.
Heck, I need it now, but things aren’t the same anymore. I have no idea how he’s going to react to my foster brother hunting me. Will he be on my side? Or blame me for bringing my problems to his door? More than likely the latter.
This whole situation is a mess. I don’t necessarily regret letting Bronx bring me along on this tour.
I need the money. The security. There really is no other choice.
I only wish me being here wasn’t making life so hard for the other members of L.A.
Riot. Fuck Riot. But maybe I need to pull back on my bullshit a touch for the other guys’ sake.
Mind made up, I climb out of the tub and wrap the fluffy, white towel around me before going into the bedroom to get my pajamas.
I open the drawer in the dresser to retrieve my pajamas. There’s a pale pink box stacked on top of them. It has Nancy printed on the top. There is nothing about the mysterious package that hints at what is inside. Or who it is from, but I can hazard a guess.
Curiosity gets the better of me.
Picking it up, I sit on the bed. I untuck the flaps and lift the lid to reveal the bright yellow and hot pink insides.
On top is a slip of note paper. It’s been roughly torn from a notebook and has music scribbles on the back.
Underneath it is a lemon with a button on top and a small round divot at one end.
I press the button and the lemon vibrates and goes silent.
I press it again and the divot starts to suck. Holy shit. It’s a suction toy.
Compared to my vibrator it’s whisper quiet. Curiosity piqued, I press the button to turn it off.
Laying the device on the bed, I unfold the note.
You’re equal parts sweet, sour, and a pain in my ass. Seemed fitting. Just remember—the lemon does the sucking, not you. ??
RM
Even if he hadn’t initialed the note, Riot’s handwriting is obvious with its joined letters, mix of capitals in the wrong places, and extravagant loops.
We weren’t friends for eight years without me learning his writing style.
Watching him obsess over the writing of one of his songs, he always seemed like there was no time to take it slowly. There’s this burning passion in him and the only way it comes out is full force.
And right now, that full force is directed at hating me. Which is fine because I hate him more. He can no longer hurt me. There’s nothing he can do now that can ever compare to what I’ve already been through.
I bite my lip as a wicked idea comes to me.
The hotel suite is empty except for Rook who is occupying himself.
I am all alone with time to kill. Tomorrow, I’ll work out a plan to ensure this bullshit between Riot and me doesn’t continue to affect Bronx and the boys.
This opportunity for a little payback is too good to pass up. “It’s my turn.”
Grabbing the box and my phone, I make my way into Riot’s bedroom.
I shut the door and move to the side of the bed before dropping my towel on the floor.
It takes me a couple of minutes to set up my phone in a way that I’m satisfied with.
I want to record a video, so he knows exactly where I am while I try out my new toy.
But I don’t want to give him the pleasure of being able to see me in the video.
Or any other ammunition to use against me.
Afterall, he still has those photos from the other night on his phone that he refuses to delete.
This recording will be audio only. No one other than him will know it’s me.
And he’ll know exactly how much I’m enjoying myself by the noises I’ll make.
The camera set up on the mattress with a pillow to keep it vertical, I make sure the screen is pointed at the chair in front of the desk. His custom guitar resting on the chair is a dead giveaway in an otherwise nondescript hotel room.
Crawling onto the bed, careful not to upset the phone, I get into position and press record. Riot wants to humiliate me... threaten me... isolate me... he better be ready for me to get some revenge of my own.
I slide my hand down my belly and over my mound, curling two fingers into the space I make with my thighs to touch myself. My clit tingles with my soft, slow rubbing. I’m already starting to get wet.
I wish I could see his face when he listens to the message I send. Riot is going to lose his mind. He’s going to come after me. He’ll want to punish me for what I’m about to do. It’s so worth it.
Popping my pointer finger in my mouth, I coat it with saliva and swipe it over my clit to prepare for the lemon. It vibrates to life when I push the button. Heat builds in my muscles at the gentle sensation.
It feels like... good lord... it feels like a hungry mouth on my clit as it sucks on the bundle of nerves.
My breathing grows shallow as the toy works its magic and my mind tries to conjure up how Riot will try to get back at me.
Only it’s his hands on my body that spring to mind.
His fingers thrusting into my pussy, curling to hit that spot.
A whimper escapes me. Damn it. I need to focus.
I push the button a couple more times until the strength of the sucking is almost too much. My orgasm is right there. Literally over the edge my body is hurtling toward. More moans escape between choppy breaths. The fingers on my free hand claw the sheet.
I grit my teeth on the urge to cry his name. It’s not because I want him. Only because he is my target, and that’s stealing my focus.
“Kodiak.” I cry out for his bandmate. Even though he’s not the one whose hands I am imagining on my body. Although... his hands on me while Riot watches and grows jealous is the image that pushes my body into an orgasm that rocks me to my core.
My toes curl. My muscles quake. And my real cries mingle with my planned call outs of the bassist’s name.
Slowly, I remove the device from between my shaky legs and turn it off. Good Lord, that was phenomenal.
I place the toy on the mattress next to me so I can listen to the audio. It sounds exactly the way I wanted it to. Like I’m pleading for Kodiak to fuck me. Fantasizing about him instead of Riot while I get myself off in Riot’s bed.
Perfection.
I upload it into a message. I could send it to him.
Or... I could send it as a group chat to the band. Him knowing that Bronx, Golden, and Kodiak get to hear me too will infuriate him.
Could my revenge get any sweeter?
Yes. Oh yes, it could. Because they’ll torment him over it.
I add them all as recipients and press send.