Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
GEMMA
The gym was a welcome distraction from what I truly wanted to do. Lifting has always helped with that—a dopamine boost to help release some of the anger pulsing inside me. It calms my mind enough that I can think rationally, except where I am right now wasn’t exactly a rational decision.
Still, I had to see her.
I had to put eyes on her, just to make sure she was okay.
I’ve only been to their music studio a few times. Once with James during our assessment, once with Kade to double-check security locks and the cameras Mads already had around the place, and once… once in complete darkness.
Not unlike this exact moment.
Last time, however, Bonnie was here alone while the others were out of town. I’d had Kade hack into their security system to erase me back then, too.
Just like tonight.
The difference between that night and this one is that Zeb is snoozing in one of the recliners in the theater room while Bonnie is sleeping on the oversized sectional in the main room, her own television blacked out, yet playing rock music softly through the speakers.
This isn’t my brightest idea. There are a thousand ways I could get caught, beaten, even hospitalized, or worse if Mads or Zeb found me.
However, watching her… watching her is always worth the risk.
The full moon’s light shines through the large windows, basking over the surfaces and illuminating Bonnie’s blonde hair and pale skin. She has her arms bent, one hand under her cheek, and a fuzzy blanket lying over her barely clothed body.
Every time she breathes, I feel as if she’s inhaling a fraction of my soul, slowly taking away my ability to live without her—something I never intend to do.
I don’t know how I’m going to keep her forever… one day, maybe the stalker can disappear, and we can just be us. I don’t know how she’ll react if she ever finds out I’m the person behind everything… the fact that I was the person who was there that night, the person who helped her come down from the horror she had to go through…
I shake away the thought.
I cross my arms over my chest and quietly walk to the theater room to check in on Zeb. He’s still lightly snoring in the oversized recliner, two vapes and an empty bag of THC brownie bites sitting on the table beside him.
It’s risky getting this close to him, even while wearing my fully covered bodysuit—sans sequins and studs this time. That suit was mostly for performance. This one… this is the one I use to disappear when I need to.
And right now, I need to know if he’s completely out, or if he’ll be waking up before I’m ready to leave.
I pick up the bag of edibles and read the label. 100mg, ten each.
Shit, I wonder how many he ate.
I lay the bag back down and step around the side of the chair, peering over and trying to judge just how rotted he is in the chair. He looks pretty out. Still, I want to be sure.
I take my hand from my pocket, set my feet, then poke his shoulder with two fingers, ready to dash if he stirs.
However, he remains passed out.
Thank fuck for that.
A box of squeaky dog toys sits by the wall. I grab a few of the toys as I head out of the room, intent on setting a trap by the door just in case he wakes up and I don’t hear him. I leave one on the ground, one under the door, and one just outside the door. I’m betting that he’ll be so out of it that he won’t notice them, thus stepping on the squeakers as he makes his way out of the room.
Or, at least, that’s what I hope happens.
Bonnie is moving when I emerge. I pause in the shadow, waiting to see if she’s actually moving and awake or if it’s just another of her nightmares.
One glance at the clock on the wall tells me it’s more than likely the latter.
It’s half-past three A.M., and if she has one, it’s always after three A.M.
Always.
I chance getting closer, and as I do, my heart begins to ache. Her brows are furrowed, and her body jerks slightly. If she was in her bed, I’d slide in behind her, the heavy covers between us, and I’d hold her close enough that the weight calmed her frantically beating heart. I wouldn’t think twice about that decision, though here, it’s a calculated risk.
Something about that risk makes her even more irresistible.
She curls tighter, head shaking like she’s trying to push away the nightmare, and it’s killing me not to help her through it.
I can’t stand here and watch her struggle like this.
Fuck getting caught.
I’ll take that fight if it means she isn’t suffering.
Carefully, I slip the cushions off the couch to give myself room to get in behind her. A whimper leaves her that makes me move a little faster, and when I crawl over the couch to quietly lower myself behind her, I realize how bad of an idea this is.
God, she’s intoxicating.
I’m immediately drunk on the smell of her hair, the perfect curl of her body against mine. I shift the blanket so it’s over me, too, and wrap my arms around her, left arm threading between the couch cushions beneath her while the right lays over her waist. It’s barely more than a few seconds before her breathing slows, her body relaxes into me, and I have to catch myself when a groan tries to escape my lips.
This is bliss .
The thin tank and tiny cheeky panties she’s wearing might be the reason I die tonight.
This… Her in my arms like this—nearly naked, settled and safe… this is the serenity I’ve been chasing, the home I’ve always thought I belonged to. I don’t think I realized holding her without any kind of blanket between us might be so overwhelming, so spiritual that emotion threatens my eyes with tears. My chest aches as if it’s about to spill out of my chest.
I press my forehead to her shoulder and squeeze her tighter, relishing every second. In my arms is the only place she’ll ever be entirely safe. My mind drifts to the rundown I had with Kade about the guy trying to chat with her who might have ulterior motives, and it makes me hold onto her a little more.
I have you, rockstar.
Nothing is ever going to happen to you.
Her body rises and falls in long, steady motions. I absentmindedly rake my gloved fingers up and down her stomach. I want to take these gloves off and feel her bare skin. I remember how it tastes… the way it felt beneath my tongue.
Just the thought has my thighs squeezing together, heat rushing to my center.
Screw this.
I bring my hand to my mouth and pull the glove off with my teeth, taking an unnecessary risk. However, the second I slide my hand beneath her tank and press my palm to her stomach, I stifle another groan.
Shit .
So fucking worth it.
I want to feel her entire body naked against mine.
I lose track of time as I lazily stroke her stomach, my fingers occasionally grazing the curved underside of her breasts, the tautness of her pierced nipples. Eventually, I pull the second glove off and toss both onto the back of the couch so I don’t forget them. And when both of my hands touch her skin, I curse into the crook of her neck.
Every motion has me holding my breath, every second making me more and more braver, reckless. I can’t help myself. She’s in my grasp. Bonnie Miller is in my arms.
So perfect in my arms…
Every sane bone in my body turns to dust, my mind now nothing more than a puddle as I move my hands to her breasts. Just one touch. One grip…
I flick the pad of my thumb over her hardened peak, then cup my fingers beneath her softness, and when she doesn’t shift, I sink my head to hers again and squeeze slightly.
She’s so fucking soft.
Memorizing her like this has only ever been a fantasy. I’ve never taken it this far during the middle of the night before; however, tonight… Tonight I can hardly hold myself back.
There’s a slit in this mask that lets me part it to uncover my mouth. I pull the fabric down enough that I can kiss her shoulder, simultaneously gripping her tits, caution thrown completely into the wind. I don’t know what’s come over me, why right now I feel like I’ll die if I don’t get to have her, but dammit, I think I might.
Maybe I’m paranoid of something happening to her, maybe I just want to remind her who is never going to let her go. Whatever it is, I can’t stop.
One hand remains on her breasts, the other drifting lower on her stomach, pausing at the hem of her underwear. I want to bury my fingers in her tight cunt and lick her cum off them one-by-one. After finally tasting her at the party, I’m dying with every second that I’m forced to go without her pussy’s nourishment.
My gaze clocks the theater room door. I close my eyes to try and listen for Zeb’s faint snores. It takes me a few seconds, but eventually, I hear his exhales. And with the failsafe’s in place and Kade blocking the cameras…
She shifts slightly in my arms, and a little noise leaves her that weakens my resolve.
My hand slips beneath her underwear and finds her heated center. Her legs are already parted around the pillow between her knees, and I take advantage of the space. Two fingers drag along her labia, easily veeing around her clit. She moves her hips, and I can’t tell if she’s waking up or not.
I’m not sure I care as I feel how fucking wet she is.
I wonder who already has her soaking in her dream, and if this reality will invade that space.
God, I hope so.
My middle finger drifts up her center, eventually putting pressure on her clit. She blows out a breath, and I catch myself smiling as I begin to toy with her.
Shit, she’s so wet that my own pussy is throbbing. I kiss her shoulder, teeth grazing at the knot there, and as I toy with one of her nipples, my lips part to gently suck her skin into my mouth.
I could do this for hours. She’s so perfectly wet for me, her figure curled in such a vulnerable, ideal way. I’m obsessed with the way her hips shift toward me in her sleep, the whispered little moans escaping her open mouth when I slip a finger into her soaked entrance.
Fuck .
I’m desperate for friction between my thighs.
She clenches her fingers around the blanket tucked between her arms, ass wiggling so adorably. I press my thigh between hers and go back to playing with her clit—increasing and decreasing the pressure, swirling and flicking the hardened bundle of nerves with the tip of my finger. And as she begins to ride my thigh, I smile against her shoulder.
That’s it, rockstar.
Ride my thigh. Come for me.
I squeeze her breast and increase my motions, my mouth still sucking on her shoulder. I hope she looks in the mirror in the morning and knows exactly who put this mark there. I hope she remembers who fucked her pretty little pussy until the orgasm woke her up.
Her thighs tighten around mine, her moan a little louder. I shift my hand from her tits to her abdomen and hold her flush as I begin to move with her, never letting up on my motions on her clit. My pussy throbs at the feeling of her, and I make a vow that the next time this happens, it’ll be in her bed, and it’ll be my cunt she’s rocking against like this.
I have you, baby.
Fuck, let me feel you come.
She jerks slightly as my teeth drag over her shoulder. Her gyrations quicken, her wet pussy moving so greedily to find that end. I hold her tighter, helping her work through it until she tenses entirely, her breath holding, and as her orgasm topples over, she gasps. Her hand shoots to my wrist. She clamps her fingers down—
Shit .
I slap my other hand over her mouth and hold her trembling body steady.
Don’t scream.
Don’t fucking scream, rockstar.
We’re locked in that position. Her nails dig into my hand. There’s a wet spot on my thigh, and I’m so fucking proud of it that there’s little she can do right now that would dampen my spirit.
Apart from screaming.
I kiss her shoulder in an attempt to let her know it’s me, hoping she recognizes it’s the same lips she came on the other night.
Breath finally leaves her. Her shoulders slacken, and I slowly release her mouth.
“Tell me it’s you,” she whispers.
Shit yes.
It’s me, baby.
It’s always going to be me.
No one else will ever touch you like this again.
I slowly press my finger against her lips and squeeze her side with the other. She nods slowly, and I exhale a breath, head hitting the crook of her neck.
This is what I get for letting my desires get the best of me.
I kiss her neck and drag my fingers over her eyes, hoping she gets the message to go back to sleep. An elongated sigh leaves her, but she somehow buries herself deeper in my arms… As if it’s safe.
And I forget everything when she pulls one of my hands to her bare tit.
I almost laugh.
I guess one isn’t enough for her either.
A shallow breath leaves me, and my eyes close with relief. It’s instinct to squeeze, to toy with the ring through her nipple with my thumb. Bonnie braces her hand over mine, instructing me in the way she wants to be handled, permitting me to touch her this time.
Fuck … My mouth opens on her shoulder, dragging my teeth across her skin. It’s one of the only ways I know to let loose my frustration. She sucks in a sharp breath, and I press my other hand across her mouth again to keep her quiet as I palm her tit.
Her ass presses into my hips once more. The quietest little moan sounds from her. It’s soft, barely distinguishable as a groan of pleasure. I pinch her nipple as if rewarding her for the flawless noise.
Her jaw drops behind my hand as I sink two fingers into her swollen pussy. She’s already so tight that I know she’ll come again with only a few strokes along her g-spot.
I have to be dreaming.
A noise in the other room makes me stiffen.
It’s a cough—Zeb’s cough. Bonnie freezes, and while I should do the same, I’m too high on her tightening cunt to let her go.
I start planning my escape, calculating how long it will take me to get to the door before Zeb opens his, and I pick up my pace. She quakes in my grasp. I wrap my hand around her mouth again, ensuring no rogue screams escape, and lay into her. Her pussy squelches for me—the beautiful melody of her response knowing it’s me making it impossible to stop.
She opens her mouth and bites the palm of my hand like it’s the only thing that will stop her from screaming when she comes. And when she does… god, when she comes… it soaks my whole hand and the pillow beneath her.
Zeb coughs again, and the smell of pineapple drifts into the room from his vape.
I have to go.
Now.
I drag my wet finger across her stomach, writing out a single word— MINE —then find her mouth. And in the last second before I leave her, she sucks her own release off of my fingers. I kiss her shoulder just as I hear Zeb’s recliner fold, hating that I’m forced to leave this gorgeous creature without cuddling and aftercare, but I’ll have to take extra care of her as Gemma tomorrow.
With a final grab of her ass, I roll over the back of the couch, grabbing my gloves as I do. A squeak sounds from the theater room—my fail safe, which means he’s already at the threshold.
“ What the fu— ” Zeb’s sleepy mumble makes my stomach drop.
Shit.
I back into the couch’s shadow as he kicks the toy out from beneath the door and emerges into the living room.
My eyes close. I hold my breath. Bonnie could get up and scream that I’m here, completely exposing me… My heart thuds as I reach for the glove on the ground and push it over my hand, then the other—
Fuck, where is my other glove?!
I lean around the couch and peer over the armrest as I hear Zeb flop onto the opposite end of the sectional.
Bonnie is staring at me with wide eyes.
Her face is flush, hair messily strewn over it.
I swallow and press my finger to my lips, on the verge of trembling. She holds my entire life in her hands right now. My anonymity. Her safety.
However, she blinks and lays her head back on the pillow a second later, then curls the blanket up over her shoulder as if nothing ever happened.
Relief sweeps over me. I glance toward Zeb one more time as he begins snoring.
Time to go.
The darkness swallows me as I dart from the couches, through the kitchen, and then to the foyer. I quietly sliding through the door and into the awaiting area between the studio and the elevator.
Liam quirks a brow at me as I emerge, then switches the leg he had crossed over his knee. I yank my mask off and quickly shove on my tight jeans and hoodie that I left in Liam’s care earlier. We don’t dare speak, and as Liam hands me my motorcycle helmet, he makes a gesture with his hand. I frown and tilt my head in confusion, prompting him to point to my bare hand.
Motherfucker.
I still only have one glove.
I glance at the camera in the left corner, flip Kade off because I know he’s watching, and press the down elevator button.
Liam scoffs and goes back to reading his romance novel, and I get onto the elevator in normal clothes in case Mads or Reed are out walking their dogs—not to mention to also lessen suspicions with the building’s security out front.
A heavy breath leaves me when I let my head hit the cold wall.
“Tell me it’s you.”
I smile despite myself, delirium taking over, and I think I even laugh out loud.
Yeah. It’s me, rockstar.