21. Electric Wounds takes New York
TWENTY-ONE
ELECTRIC WOUNDS TAKES NEW YORK
L ily
It’s a rare day off, and the guys are barely containing their excitement. Up until the moment the bus stops, they sit at the kitchen table trying to plan a day that maximizes the time we have in New York, determined to make the most of it. They decide we need disguises to blend in, avoiding the inevitable chaos of being recognized.
“You’re basically famous now too, Lily,” Enzo teases, tossing me a pair of oversized sunglasses and a floppy hat. “Better suit up.”
I laugh as I put them on. “Alright, let's do this.”
Jax pulls on a fake beard and baseball cap, looking like a hipster gone wrong. Marcus goes with thick glasses and a shaggy wig, while Dylan hides himself with a bandana covering his hair and huge aviators. Enzo, always extra, throws on a fedora, with a scarf pulled up over his nose and mouth like an old school bandit. We look ridiculous, like a group of undercover spies in a low-budget movie.
Our first stop is a quiet little coffee shop in the corner of the city, tucked away slightly from the usual tourist spots. The moment we walk in, the smell of freshly brewed coffee hits us, rich and warm. The barista gives us a quick glance, likely wondering why we are dressed like this, but no one seems to recognize us.
“I’ll have a cappuccino,” I say, smiling at the barista.
“I’ll take a double espresso,” Jax says, his voice muffled behind his fake beard.
“Latte for me,” Marcus adds, pushing his glasses up.
“Flat white,” Dylan says, grinning behind his bandana.
Enzo leans into the counter, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles behind his bandana. “Americano, please.”
The cashier takes Enzo’s card and prepares our drinks, then we find a cozy corner with a couch and a couple of armchairs. I settle into the center of the sofa with Enzo on one side and Dylan on the other. Marcus and Jax take the chairs on either side of the couch. Despite the ridiculous outfits, no one pays much attention, just a few curious glances here and there.
“This is amazing,” I say, taking a long sip of my cappuccino. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
“It’s good to take a break, get away from it all,” Marcus says, his fake mustache looking slightly worse for wear as coffee clings to it.
I stifle a laugh. Dylan says something to Jax, but I tune out the band, observing the street outside instead. New York City. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to come here. I never thought that my first time in the city would be with the members of Electric Wounds.
After finishing my cappuccino, we decide to head to Battery Park and catch the ferry to the Statue of Liberty. The wind from the harbor hits us as we sail closer, and I can’t help but stare at the iconic monument, the feeling of contentment and joy that has been building inside me over the last few days, solidifying even further. Marcus joins me, standing close to my back as I stare forward, not wanting to miss a second.
“I never thought I’d see this in person,” I admit, gazing up at the statue.
“Pretty incredible,” Marcus replies. When I turn my head to glance at him, he’s looking at me instead of the statue. My cheeks flush, but I’m saved from forming a response when the rest of the guys join us.
Dylan nudges Enzo. “How’s it feel to be a tourist in your own city, man?”
Enzo shrugs with a grin. “Refreshing. Haven’t done this in years.”
“You’re from here?” I ask, realizing I don’t know that much about the guy’s history.
“Born and raised,” Enzo replies with a smile.
I nod. Vowing to ask more questions about each of the guy’s personal lives. When we aren’t surrounded by a bunch of other tourists, that might recognize them. Together we disembark the ferry and spend almost two hours on the tiny island, taking stupid photos and laughing. Then we return to the ferry and venture to our next stop, Madison Square Park.
The city is alive around us—kids playing, dogs running around, couples walking hand in hand. Not needing a map, Enzo winds us along the paths, pointing out the spots where most tourists stop. We take a couple more pictures and keep walking until we end up in a larger open area with a large open lawn. We grab ice cream from a vendor and find a spot on the grass to relax; the sun warming our faces.
“This is perfect,” I say, leaning back on my elbows and closing my eyes.
“It’s nice to chill outside of the bus,” Jax says softly, his smile warm as he looks over at me.
“I think we should keep these disguises,” Dylan says, adjusting his bandana. “They’re starting to grow on me.”
“You definitely look better this way,” Enzo responds with a smirk. “Now that we can see less of your face.”
Marcus guffaws, and Dylan launches himself at Enzo, and they pretend to wrestle in the lawn. The movements jostle their disguises and Enzo loses his hat, his bandana pooling around his neck. Dylan doesn’t fare much better, which his bandana flying off his head and his aviators resting slightly askew on his face.
It all happens so quickly, all of us are laughing and joking, then someone yells out. “Hey! Isn’t that Electric Wounds?”
The park is not crowded in the same way the ferry was, but there are still hoards of people and at least a dozen heads turn in our direction. Enzo grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet as the crowd of people starts to realize who we are. Well, who the band is.
“Meet at Union Station,” Enzo mutters lowly to the rest of the band. Before I have time to process what his words mean, that we are splitting up, he starts dragging me away down one of the paths, away from the others. Enzo hurries along and I’m forced to run or literally be dragged behind him. He doesn’t stop until we reach a small brick building. He opens a brown metal door, slipping inside with me on his heels. Both of us are breathing hard, the adrenaline still pumping from the escape. As he locks the door, I glance around and realize it’s a public restroom.
“That was close,” Enzo says, leaning against the door with a grin.
I start laughing, the craziness of the day catching up with me. “That was insane. You’re insane.”
He steps closer, his eyes darkening with intensity. “Admit it—you love it.”
I roll my eyes but smile. “Okay, maybe a little.”
Instead of responding, he pulls me close, his lips brushing against mine. The kiss starts slow, soft, but quickly deepens, full of heat and urgency. His hands grip my hips, grinding me against his erection, and I lose myself in the sensation.
“Enzo,” I whisper, my voice shaky.
He pulls back just enough to search my eyes. “What is it?”
“I don’t know if we should…” I trail off, unsure. I find myself wavering between going with the flow and overthinking every interaction with the guys. I just resolved everything with Jax and Dylan, then Marcus and I… kissed. Enzo slept in my bed, came all over my chest, and now wants to have public sex. It’s, well, it’s a lot.
He grins, a confident, cocky look that makes me want to punch him. Then kiss him. “Why not? We both want this.” He doesn’t give me a chance to keep overthinking. Immediately, Enzo’s lips are back on mine, his hands roaming over my body, and I can’t help but give in. The tiny restroom feels even smaller as we move together, the space between us filled with heat and want.
In one smooth move, Enzo lifts me onto the sink, pulling down my pants and panties. The cool air hits my skin, but it doesn’t last long—his hands are on me, his mouth following, teasing and tasting, driving me crazy with every flick of his tongue against my clit.
“Enzo…” I gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair as he continues, unrelenting. He lifts one of his hands and kneads my breasts through my shirt, finding my hard nipple and rubbing it against his palm, creating spikes of pleasure. “Oh my god,” I whisper, biting my lip to keep from crying out. His hands grip my thighs, holding me in place while he pushes me closer and closer to climax.
“You drive me crazy, Lily,” Enzo murmurs against my skin before biting on my clit. It sends me crashing over the edge. He continues to lick me as my body shudders, leaving me breathless and sated.
When the last trembles of pleasure finally stop, he stands, his smirk even more smug than usual. “Feel better?”
I nod, still trying to catch my breath, but he’s not done. Enzo swipes his fingers over my clit once more, causing another jolt of sensation. He unzips his pants and pushes into me, his movements slow and deliberate, reigniting my desire.
“Let’s see how much you can handle,” he murmurs, his voice rough, his eyes locked on mine.
The feeling of him filling me is overwhelming, and I cling to his shoulders as he moves. His thrusts continue in a slow and deliberate pace, extending the pleasure from my earlier orgasm and building it anew.
His grip on my hips tightens, and his eyes remain on mine, watching every expression as he thrusts inside me. My eyelids start to droop, and he slows his movements. “Eyes on me, Lily.”
My eyes pop back open and he increases his pace, thrusting harder and faster until I’m gasping his name. His body pushes me higher, the pleasure inside coiling tighter with each pump of his hips. My head falls back against the mirror, but I keep my eyes on him, knowing in my gut that he’ll stop if I look away even for a second.
“I’m close,” he groans, his movements becoming more frantic.
“Me too,” I gasp, gripping one hand on the sink and the other on his shoulders as I meet him thrust for thrust.
In seconds, I’m overwhelmed, my body crashing over the edge for the second time. I feel the hot spurts of Enzo’s release pouring inside me as he gives in to his own orgasm. Our eyes are still locked, and it makes our connection more powerful, leaving us both breathless and shaking.
I release my grip on his shoulder, chest heaving as I catch my breath. My eyes roam over Enzo, his hair disheveled and shirt wrinkled. Then I glance around the dingy bathroom and reality hits. I just had sex with Enzo Rossi, bassist to Electric Wounds, while hiding from ravenous fans in the middle of New York City. I laugh, I can’t help it, this is too absurd not to, and Enzo cocks a brow.
“Care to share?” He asks.
“I just never thought my life would be like this,” I reply, gesturing to him, then to the bathroom.
“Hard to imagine something so glamorous,” He asks, his smug grin still in place, but an emotion I haven’t seen on him before, something close to doubt, flickering in his eyes.
“Exactly,” I reply. Leaning forward on impulse to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He responds immediately, making the kiss deeper and more intense, sliding his hands under my butt and lifting me off the sink. Once my feet hit the floor, he steps back slightly, using the space to pull my clothes back into place. Something about that feels more intimate than anything else that we’ve done in this bathroom, and I work to calm my racing heart. “We should get back to the others,” I say, trying to pull myself together.
Enzo chuckles, kissing me one more time, then tucking himself back into his jeans. “Yeah, let’s go.”
He cracks the door, peeking out of the opening before turning to mutter. “All clear.”
I nod, stepping forward, and he grabs my hand. He holds it the entire way through the park, the Subway, and Union Station, not releasing it as we approach the guys clustered off to the side in the main portion of the station.
Marcus raises an eyebrow, his eyes skimming over our disheveled clothes and intertwined hands. “We thought you got lost.”
“Just needed a breather,” Enzo says casually, but the grin on his face gives everything away.
“Doesn’t seem like breathing was the only thing you needed,” Dylan interjects, waggling his brows salaciously.
Jax elbows him, barely looking at us. “Let’s get back to the bus. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
Enzo keeps my hand in his as we start the journey back to the bus. I can’t help but smile. There is no other way I would have rather spent my first time in the city.