33. Kelsey
Kelsey
Did that actually happen? Did the whole fucking band workshop my orgasm?
Kodiak’s fingers felt incredible rubbing my clit and stroking my seam.
Even through my panties, that was incredible.
Bronx’s tongue lapping at my chest while he pinched my nipples...
holy shit, I bet my chest is rubbed red from his beard.
Golden’s kisses were exactly how I thought they would be, filthy and hot.
But it was Riot’s direction that made the whole situation one of the sexiest things I’ve ever experienced.
“Got to go, Little Vandal,” he says quietly, almost apologetically. He puts me down on the couch and stands. “Time to perform for the masses.”
The others file out after him, leaving me in Jasper’s capable hands. Did he enjoy the show? Or did he turn around like the professional he is?
My cheeks must be glowing, they’re hot under my fingers. The bottle of water in my hand crinkles as I take another sip. My brain is mush. My senses overwhelmed. I can still feel them all around me.
I’m going to be using the memory of that to get myself off for a long time to come.
I want more. I want to go further.
“Do you want to go watch?” Jasper asks.
“Yeah.” I climb off the couch on shaky legs, head still spinning.
As I start to walk, my heel hits something.
Still in a daze I look down. It takes me a minute to realize what exactly my foot made contact with, but when I do the daze starts to fade and my mind begins to race.
Riot’s backpack that he usually takes with him everywhere, including to the stage.
My journal could be inside. Or... if not...
his lyrics book. Either I can steal my journal back now or barter for it back later. “Yeah... in a few minutes.”
I scoop up the faded black Adidas bag and place it on the couch. Unzipping one pocket, I rifle through it for both books.
Nope.
“Are you sure you should be doing that?” Jasper asks, with a touch of humor that says he isn’t going to stop me.
“Mind your own,” I retort.
I move onto the next pocket. Then the next.
How many damn pockets does one bag need?
Weed. Extra guitar pics and wire. Pedals.
Spare white T-shirt that I want to steal to sleep in because why are his T-shirts the softest, best scented things ever?
I can hate a guy and still sleep in his clothes, right? Microphone. Chewing gum.
Next pocket. Condoms. A cold piece of metal that fits in my palm on a long leather cord.
Awareness has me pausing. I shut me eyes against a tidal wave of nostalgia.
He kept it. Breath trapped; I pull the whole thing out.
The cross and the miniature skateboard necklace that he used to wear all the time.
The one that I bought him the first time we hung out together.
He never took it off while we were friends.
He doesn’t wear it now, but he carries it with him everywhere? I drop it back into the pocket like my fingers are burned. What does that even mean? Do I care? Do I want it to mean something? Maybe it doesn’t. What if it does?
As if my head wasn’t already spinning from the events that have happened over the last twenty minutes. Now this... I can’t deal.
I zip the pocket back up.
The noise in the arena ramps up. I was too busy listening to my own heartbeat in my ears to notice the lull that signals the guys being spotted near the stage.
There’s only one pocket left. It has to be in here.
Gotcha. I pull out the only thing inside. His lyric book. It’s bulky and the pages don’t sit right. When I let it fall open, the reason for its bulkiness is revealed. My journal.
“Jasper, you can—”
Shit. My heart catches at Riot’s voice. He’s meant to be on stage. I whirl around, hiding the books behind my back as he enters the room.
His focus drops to where my arms disappear behind my back and then lower to his bag on the couch. The only pocket left opened is the one where his lyric book and my journal were. His gaze settles on my face. “Going through my things?”
Crap. I should have shoved it under the couch cushion.
“You can go ahead and stand outside, Jasper,” Riot orders.
“Don’t leave,” I say.
Jasper’s gaze bounces between the two of us like we’re a tennis match.
“You don’t want him to stay.” Riot stalks toward me, his gaze dark.
I nod at Jasper. Swallow. I’m a big girl who can handle myself. Right? “It’s okay.”
“Trying to steal from me? Again.” Riot stops in front of me as Jasper leaves the room. He stretches out a hand, palm up. “Give it to me.”
I hand over his lyric book.
He tosses it on the couch and curls his fingers twice. “And the other one.”
“No.” I stand my ground. “It’s mine.”
“Last chance,” he says.
I raise my chin. “Screw you.”
He smirks. “Fine.”
He’s actually going to let me keep my journal? Finally.
He whips an arm around my waist and tosses me onto his shoulder.
I drop my journal with a yelp.
His footsteps are sure and determined despite my fists pounding on his back and my wriggling attempts to wrestle free. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You didn’t think I’d let you steal from me and not punish you, did you?” Rounding the couch, he puts me on my feet facing the back of the piece of furniture.
“You stole from me first,” I seethe.
“Filthy little liar.” He takes my hands and puts them on the cushioned top of the couch. His palm smooths up my spine, bending me over. “Brace.”
“No.” But I want to. I just don’t want him aware of how much I want to.
“No?” His hands skim from my hips to the hem of my dress. He hikes it up, exposing my ass to the cold air. “You’re determined to be a bad girl?”
My core clenches. Did I orgasm earlier? What orgasm?! “You stole my journal.”
“Now I’m going to steal your panties.” He hooks his fingers into the sides and drags them down until they fall to my ankles. Crouching, he grasps my ankle and lifts my foot to free the silk. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re the thief here. And you will admit it.”
“No. I won’t.” Since I have no idea what he’s talking about and never took anything from him.
Other than his baby. And I had planned to tell him. Even after we broke up. Until whether he knew or not no longer mattered.
He straightens. His palm smooths over the curve of one ass cheek. “Do you know what I was thinking while Kodiak was getting you off?”
“No.” I flinch when his palm lifts, but I’m not scared. Only anticipating.
A second later, it stings my skin and goes back to rubbing circles on my heated flesh. He hums a little note of satisfaction. “That I needed to fuck you in front of them. Make sure they understand that they’re only getting to enjoy you because I want it.”
My brain stutters.
It’s like my fantasies are coming true. If only I didn’t hate the lead. Want to hate him. Oh, hell. Does it matter what my emotions are? All this anger and fighting makes everything hotter anyway.
His palm lands again, sending another spike of pain through me that turns my clit into a pulsing mess. Spearing his other hand between my legs, he finds my juices coating my thighs and pussy. He slides a finger inside me. “You’re fucking soaked for me, Little Vandal.”
He groans.
The crowd is getting louder. Chanting for him since he hasn’t made it to the stage with the others. They want him. They want to adore him. “You need to get out there.”
“Don’t care,” he says. The sound of his zipper being lowered has my clit throbbing. Stepping in closer, he lines the head up with my entrance and flexes his hips. His cock presses into me. “They can wait. I need inside you too bad to be patient.”
“Wait, get a condom," I whimper, even while I wrap an arm around the back of his thigh to get closer.
“Fuck.” He grabs his bag and dives a hand into the pocket where the condoms were. He retrieves a foiled square and rips it open before rolling the rubber down his cock.
This time when he gets behind me, he slams home.
The couch shunts forward an inch as my hips crash against it. His balls thump my clit.
“As long as you’re on this tour, this is mine.” He pulls out and slams back in again. “I tell you who gets to touch it. Who kisses it. Who sticks their cock in you. Who makes you come. Understand?”
“Why would I want that?” I moan as he fucks me hard against the back of the couch. Oh my God, yes... yes... yes!
“Because of the way you respond to it.”
Good fucking lord. My eyes roll back in my head. “You don’t own me.”
“No. But you owe me for what you stole. Until you come clean, I’m going to take it out on your body.”
Please fucking do. “Oh God.”
He flattens his chest to my back, binding one arm around my tits and using the other to reach under the front of my dress to torture my clit.
His rich, spicy cologne and his musky scent surround me.
The friction of his cock along my inner walls with every scrape back and thrust forward has me staring down the barrel of my orgasm.
“Tomorrow we’ll talk to Doc. He can show you my latest clean bill of health and make sure your birth control is covered. Because I am going to be marking this pretty pussy up. Every time you fuck with one of my bandmates, you better be prepared for me to remind you who this pussy belongs to.”
The beginnings of my orgasm flicker to life. I’m so close.
His fingers disappear from my clit. My orgasm starts to recede. His mouth is at my ear. “Since you were a bad girl who went through my things... I’m not giving you an orgasm this time.”
No! He can’t be serious. “Please, Riot. You can’t—"
“Shut up and take this cock like the good girl I know you can be.”
Fuck him. I frantically move my hips, trying to rebuild the friction I desperately need.
He clamps his hands around my hips and holds me still. “If you come... I’m going to make your punishment last a hell of a lot longer.”
Motherfucker. I grip the couch harder.
He fucks me rough and fast.
“I’m going to nut.” He grunts as he slams home again. His cock twitches inside me as he comes.
Every muscle in my body is taut and frustrated.
“That’s a good girl. Knew you could be.” His lips press to my bare spine above the neckline of my dress. He pulls out of me.
I’m bereft. So empty I want to get on my knees and grovel. No, I want to scream. There’s no way in hell I would ever beg him.
He tosses the condom and fixes his pants. “I’m going to go perform now. And you’re going to stay here and wait for me and the orgasms I’m going to give you while you spend all night in my bed.”
He grabs his bag and slings the strap over his shoulder. Picking up the books where they fell on the couch, he holds my journal up. “And I’ll be keeping this until I’m good and ready to give it back.”
“Asshole. Those are my private thoughts.” I flip my dress back down and smooth it out.
“Yeah, well, perhaps if you told the truth...” He shrugs, before turning his back on me, picking up his leather jacket from the end of the couch and stalking out of the room.
“Prick.” As if I’m going to end up in his bed. No matter how hot the sex is. Or how his filthy promises made me come harder than I ever have. I search around for my underwear before I realize he’s pocketed them.
I kick the couch. Punch it. “Damn it.”
Jasper comes back into the room. His expression stays neutral, though he had to have heard all of that.
If Riot needs to dissect my life since him so badly, then perhaps I should let him. He’s not prepared for what he’ll find. But why should I care?
Skulking around the couch, I flop down on it. I need a distraction. I pull up the notifications I have set up for Riot, and the tour, and my name in case it gets mentioned on social media.
It’s become routine to check—several times a day since I’ve been back with the band—how much info Marco may have on my whereabouts. Keeping my eyes open to what’s going on outside of the bubble that the tour has us in is a must.
And it will give me a chance to block out Riot’s directions. I will not spend the next few hours anticipating what the rest of the night will bring. No siree, not this girl. I don’t care that he’s made a fantasy of mine come true. He’s a bastard.
And I have some fucking dignity.
Or at least I can fake it.
Okay, mentions... let’s see... I’ve only been mentioned once. Oh shit, it’s viral. I press on the notification, and a heap of thumbnail sized videos show up.
“What the hell?” I click on the first one and it fills the screen. Riot is holding Sonatina and she has her tongue down his throat. They’re surrounded by people and they look into each other.
I go to the comments first. Where I’m mentioned they’re beastly. They love the two of them together. They’re a power couple. Sonatina is much better than that bitch he was dating before her. It’s awesome they’re getting back together.
They multiply and multiply in front of my eyes. All new comments. All in the last few hours.
I go back to the video itself.
That’s when I notice Kodiak in the background. Wearing the same outfit he went to that industry party in. And Riot, those are the same clothes he slept in next to me all night while I kept watch over him.
He came from her arms and her lips to my bed.
Oh, hell no.
He can forget about me ending up in his bed ever again.