Chapter 20 #2
Seriously, why not? It’s my song. I pored over those lyrics, writing draft after draft, mentally working on a bass line until it clicked. Dylan filled in the drums and added his own flair to it. I know the music inside and out. I want people to know what I did.
I hop up on stage and take the mic. Seeing the band’s name and my face makes something click among some people in the crowd. I still can’t believe so many random people know my face. Someone pulls out a phone. Maybe they’re taking a photo, or maybe they’re taking a selfie. I don’t know.
“Hey, I’m Ash Stryker. I’m—or I was—in the band Cinematicas,” I say as the music starts. A few people nod and say things to each other. “I actually wrote this song with our drummer, Dylan. All of these lyrics are straight from climbing out of the shittiest six months of my life. Uphill.”
I slide into the song and perform it the way I’ve always wanted to, with the emphasis on the phrases that were hardest to write or I liked the most. The quality of the background track isn’t the greatest, but it doesn’t matter. I sing it like it’s for a sold-out crowd.
The bar has filled in over the past half hour, and they explode in cheers once I’m done. I blow out a breath, relief washing over me. Maybe I shouldn’t have said what I said, but I’ll deal with the fallout later.
“You sounded amazing,” Jada says once I come off the stage. I pull her into a hug, and she hangs on for a few extra beats.
A few people say hello and ask for pictures, but I decline. Thankfully, they’re fine with it. Most people leave us alone after that, besides a few looks.
The night starts flying by, and I forget how shitty and draining the first half of it was. Eventually Jada starts yawning, so I take the lead and pay our tab. We head outside, hand in hand, even though we don’t have to pretend anymore.
Even though I’m tired, too, I’m buzzing with energy underneath that.
I haven’t felt like this in so fucking long.
Free from the pressure of wondering if I’m talking to the right person, or if that person is just trying to get closer to the more popular members of the band.
I was just able to perform and get shit off my chest, too.
And I was able to do it all because of Jada. I don’t think I’d feel this way if I were with someone else.
I lace my fingers in between hers and she squeezes my hand tighter. The shy little smile she gives me cracks right through my defenses.
I’m going to do something stupid, aren’t I? Just pure, raw stupidity without being tipsy being to blame.
She’s unusually quiet, and I’m not sure if it’s because she’s tired or if she’s thinking. When we get back to the hotel, the warm look she gives me tells me everything. She feels like something’s shifted, too.
Ah, fuck it.
I press her against the wall of the elevator and take her lips. She melts into me just like I imagined she would, completely unafraid.
We should be afraid. I shouldn’t be doing this when I really, really like hanging out with her, and I’ve wanted her for longer than I want to admit.
But it’s a ride and I’m already on it. I’m not getting off now, even if it’s making everything complicated.
I loop my arm behind her back and she clings to me as our kiss deepens.
It’s frantic and hurried, like we’re trying to get it all in as fast as we can.
We only briefly pause when the elevator doors open, and we rush several doors down to our room.
I open the door in seconds and she shoves me inside.
Once the door shuts, she pulls me to her, then pauses.
“What?” I ask, resting my hands on her hips and letting my lips hover over the side of her neck.
“I’m thinking. Maybe too much,” she says, shifting so her neck meets my lips.
“Can we agree not to think too hard about this?” I ask between kisses.
She pauses, and even though it’s probably only seconds long, it feels like a century.
“Okay,” she finally says.
I guide her to the bed and gently tip her backward, climbing over her. She’s not petite—there’s a solidness to her that I really like—but she feels small underneath me. Her skin under her shirt is soft, and the more my hands explore, the more I need.
She hooks a leg over my hips and grinds against my cock, making me suck in a harsh breath. I feel her smiling against my neck as she does it again, peeling off my shirt, then hers. I unhook her bra and pull it off, cupping each of her tits. They fill my hands, and then some.
“Finally, huh?” she says with a grin.
“That obvious?”
“You just sighed like you had your first sip of water after a day in the heat.” She snorts, but it turns into a gasp when I nip the side of her breast.
I run my tongue from that spot to her nipple and lightly suck on it until she squirms under me. I use my other hand to play with her free nipple until she’s panting.
“Y’know what’s been driving me nuts?” She’s breathy, her tits gently moving under my hands. “Your fucking robes.”
“The robes?”
“Because I can’t see everything. All your muscles and tattoos.” She rolls us over, straddling me. “I just see a little peek here and there. A tease.”
I grin. “I love to tease.”
I unbutton her jeans and slide my hand underneath them. Just the slightest brush of my fingers and I can feel how wet she is. She helps me tug her jeans down, and I’m able to get my whole hand down her panties. I circle her clit a few times, then get lower.
“Remember at the drive-in? What you let slip without even using your words?” I ask. I delve one finger inside her and she arches against me. “You prefer fingers. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”
She shivers from head to toe as I pump my fingers in and out, stroking her most sensitive spots. She starts falling apart almost right away, her body clenching around mine. But she still manages to work her hand between us to stroke me.
I’m not going to last, even with her hand over my pants. But she’s not going to last, either. I finger-fuck her, watching her continue to fall apart. And I start to fall apart, too.
All that high-school boy curiosity, that time I kissed her, seeing her off and on throughout the years and wanting to know more has led me to this point.
Our eyes lock right after I fly over edge with her. She’s soaking around my fingers, and I come harder than I have in years, crying out and nearly bucking her off of me. She flops on top of me, both of us breathing hard.
“More, please,” she says.
I can’t help but laugh, even though I’m tired. “Give me a minute. I’m not going to stop until you tell me.”
She grins, sitting up again. “I’m holding you to it. Be back in a second.”
She hops off me and heads over to the bathroom. I watch her ass sway with every step, already feeling my cock starting to stir again. But other feelings are starting to stir, too.
I can’t help but wonder what this means for us going forward. I’ve only wondered about what a future could look like once. And I don’t like where that ended.