3. Nash
3
NASH
“ W ho the hell was that?”
I pull my eyes away from the closed door to my office and gaze into Katie’s—or is her name Kitty—pale blue ones. They’re not as bright of a blue as Kinsley’s, I notice.
Wait… why the fuck do I care about the color of her eyes?
“No one,” I answer as I run my hands over her hips until they rest on her thin waist. Katie wiggles her ass against my hard cock, making me groan. “Don’t worry about her.”
“Didn’t plan on it,” she says as she reaches between us, her fingers dragging along the waistband of my sweatpants. Her hand slips between the fabric and wraps around my hard length. I hiss out a sharp breath at her cool touch. “Someone does love an audience, don’t they?”
To shut her up, I grab the back of her neck and slam my lips against hers. She pulls my cock out of my sweatpants and starts jerking me off. Her lips are soft, but damn is she a shit kisser. Her tongue is sloppy as it moves against mine, licking every inch of the inside of my mouth. This is why she’s better at giving head than she is at kissing.
“Jasmine is still upstairs,” Kitty moans against my lips when she pulls away. “You can take us both. I’ll even let you stick it in?—”
The sharp knock that sounds at the door makes me growl this time. Can’t a man get his fucking dick wet in peace? Jesus Christ.
“You have five seconds to fuck off or I’m going to slam your head into the wall,” I call out, hoping whoever it is will take the hint and leave. I swear if it’s that little blondie returning to chew my ass out again…
“Damn, dude. Someone woke up on the wrong side of jail this morning.”
I roll my eyes at the sound of Axel’s voice. He knows I got arrested because a guy at the bar was trying to start a fight with me. The asshole thought he was such a tough guy for saying Dark Angel’s music is garbage and the band sucks. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t know how much I love a good fight. The adrenaline of punching someone in the face and having busted knuckles is a sensation I fucking crave.
So, the dickhead got what was coming to him. And that was a broken nose, split lip, and his dignity down the drain.
Thankfully, James was kind enough to bail me out after only a couple of hours of being locked up. When he asked why I was at a bar at ten in the morning instead of in the studio, I didn’t have an answer for him other than I wanted to be there. I had a long night of no sleep and constant fucking nightmares, so sue me for just wanting to have a couple of drinks away from the house to take the edge off a little.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realize I’m very late for band practice because that little devil walked in on me fucking Jenny—or is it Jasmine? I can’t remember either of their fucking names—and then stuck around to discuss the bullshit deal our agencies are encouraging us to do.
When James first told me the label’s plan to get my public image back on track two days ago, I laughed in his face. I thought he was fucking with me at first, but the serious expression didn’t leave his face after a solid five minutes of me laughing. I was seconds away from telling him to shove the idea up his fucking ass, but he reminded me that this publicity stunt isn’t just about me—it’s about Dark Angel, too. According to him, the band is suffering because of my actions—what he means by ‘suffering’, I’m not sure. Our record sales are still up, but James told me they could be better.
I wanted to tell him he was full of shit but then realized that maybe taking this deal wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It will only be for six months and then I can do whatever the fuck I want after that.
James promised that by dating the little devil—an up-and-coming actress in Hollywood who has gained a lot of attention as of late—Dark Angel would get more recognition across the globe from media outlets, resulting in more record sales and the ability to play more shows around the world.
All because of a tiny blonde woman who carries the Devil on her shoulder.
I must admit, I’m curious to see how this turns out after the six months is up. At this point, I have nothing to lose. Why not take on the challenge and see where it lands the band? It might even be fun to fuck around with the blonde pocket rocket because it seems I already get on her nerves.
Good.
Her flushed cheeks and inability to hold eye contact with me bring a joy I never knew I needed. She seems like a stuck-up, goodie two shoes, so I might want to blow my head off by the end of the six months, but I guess that’s what I signed up for.
I hadn’t expected her to drop by at this time of the night, so that was a fun surprise. The tint of pink that marred her round, freckled cheeks made my cock twitch, but I wouldn’t dare tell her that. Not after the attitude she gave me.
With a huff, I grab Kitty by the shoulders and guide her off my lap, ignoring her protests. Shoving my now limp cock back into my sweatpants, I stand from the chair and look down at her.
“Go back to my room and wait for me,” I order, my voice hoarse. My hands slide over the curve of her hips and down to her tight ass, squeezing the flesh roughly. Kitty moans, biting her lip.
“Don’t be too long,” she purrs as she runs her hot pink nails down my chest. Her eyes lock with mine as she palms my now hard cock through the material of my sweatpants. “Jasmine and I might have to have a little fun with each other while we wait.”
I growl at the thought of them touching each other while they wait for me and it has my head spinning. My hand snaps up to wrap around Kitty’s slender throat, a squeal slipping past her plump lips. “If either of you come without me, I’m going to have to punish you, understood?”
Katie nods quickly, although I can tell she likes the idea of being punished by me just from the sight of her hard nipples through the thin material covering her chest, and the way she’s desperately clenching her thighs together, begging for some type of friction that I have no time for.
I release my grip and point at the door behind her. “Go.” As Kitty turns, I bring my hand down on her exposed ass, relishing in the moan that leaves her lips.
She doesn’t say anything as she walks across the room, swings open the door, and saunters past the three pairs of eyes that stare at her perky ass as she walks down the hallway.
My three band members' eyes meet mine simultaneously, but Hudson is the first to speak. “Damn, she has a tight ass. Are you open to sharing her when you’re done?”
I roll my eyes and sit down. Hudson, Axel, and Luca walk into the room. They crowd around my desk, looking down at me as I light another cigarette.
“I’m not one to share, you know that,” I comment dryly, bringing the lit cherry to my lips to take a long drag. Smoke fills my lungs as I close my eyes.
A moment later, I exhale slowly, the smoke twirling around me. The little devil didn’t seem to like that I smoked in front of her. I could tell by the way her small nose scrunched in disgust when the smoke floated around her head of blonde hair. Of course she doesn’t like smoking. Why am I not fucking surprised?
“Look, a man can try.” Hudson shrugs and folds his arm across his chest. Shaggy blonde hair falls over his pale gray eyes as he looks between me, Luca, and Axel. I simply shake my head and lean back further in the chair.
“I should’ve known this is why you were late,” Luca comments as he runs his fingers through his pin-straight charcoal hair. The streaks of red are brighter than usual, making me wonder when he got the color touched up. “You have so many women on rotation that it’s hard to keep up.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re one to talk. I saw four women leave your bedroom just two days ago when I stopped by. All four of them appeared thoroughly fucked.”
“He’s got you there,” Axel says, biting back a shit-eating grin. “We’re no better than Nash.”
“But he’s more obvious about it,” Hudson interjects, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, are we going to continue standing around talking about how many women we fuck, or are we going to go make some fucking music?”
I inhale a breath of smoke from the cigarette and swirl it around my mouth before releasing it. “Let’s get this out of the way.”
I stand and follow my bandmates out of my office and to the other side of the house where our studio is located. When I bought this house a few years back, I built a recording studio to save us from having to rent one somewhere downtown. We hate working with other producers who try to tell us what we should write and what melodies to use. Dark Angel works as a band because all four of us know what music we want to play for our fans, and what stories we want to tell. The last thing we want is some fucking idiot who knows nothing about us trying to dictate what records we should release based on what they think is good.
Not fucking happening.
I open the door to the studio and flick the light switch up, casting light across the soundboard and musical instruments by the two large leather couches. The overhead lights in the recording room are off, but that’s fine since we’re not recording anything tonight.
Hudson heads straight for his red guitar on the rack next to Luca’s and plops down on one of the black leather couches, strumming the strings. A soft melody floats in one ear and out the other. “Okay, let’s continue working on the song we started two days ago. I think we’re onto something with that one.”
“I agree,” Axel says as he sits down on the couch beside Hudson, twirling two drumsticks around his fingers. Fucking show-off. “I think it has the potential to be our next hit.”
“I feel like it’s missing something though,” I comment as I sit beside Luca and take another drag of the cherry perched between my forefinger and middle finger. He’s strumming his black bass guitar thoughtfully as he takes in my words. “It just doesn’t have that same… sound that we’re chasing. You know?”
“I know what you mean,” Luca says from beside me. “But I'm sure if we keep messing around with it, whatever is missing will reveal itself to us.”
We spend the next two hours spit-balling melody and lyric ideas to enhance the quality of the song. Each suggestion brings us closer to finding the right sound that I’ve been searching for, and once it clicks into place, we all smile like idiots.
Dark Angel is due for a new record after the success of our last one. Most of the songs are finalized, but our label requested we add a couple more songs to the list, so we agreed to get back into the studio and get to work. And while the song we just worked on is going to be a big hit—I can feel it in my bones—we still need to write one more song. But oddly enough, I have zero inspiration for it. Nothing. And as the main lyricist in the band, it’s driving me fucking insane.
“Let’s call it a night,” I breathe as I lean against the smooth leather. Bringing an unlit cigarette to my lips, I light the end of it with my black lighter and inhale the crisp smoke.
“Yeah, I’m fucking beat,” Hudson says as he returns his guitar to its stand. “I think we made some progress on the song.”
“But we still need another one,” Axel reminds us, using both of his hands to slick his half-blonde and half-brown shoulder-length hair behind his ears.
When he first dyed his hair like that, I thought he was an idiot because who split dyes their hair with those plain colors? But surprisingly, the fans went fucking wild over it, so now it’s his signature look. But I’m sure the upkeep is a fucking nightmare for our stylist.
“I’m working on it,” I mumble around the cherry perched between my lips. “I just need some inspiration.”
Luca hums as he walks over to the mini fridge in the corner of the room and pulls out four bottles of Brooklyn Lager. He hands them out to us before taking the empty spot beside me again.
The glass is cold in my hand as I twist off the cap, pull the stick from my lips, and chug half the bottle. I close my eyes as the cool liquid settles in my stomach.
“Why don’t you use the little blondie we saw leaving your office earlier?” Hudson comments, wiggling his brows at me suggestively.
I roll my eyes. “No way in hell. I barely know the woman, much less want to use her as inspiration.” It’s bad enough James is forcing the publicity stunt contract on me, leaving me little room for any say in the situation. “I would rather not write a song about the woman I’ll be fake dating.”
“So, it is true then.”
Luca’s words make me snap my head toward him. “How do you already know about the deal?”
“James told us a few days ago,” Axel answers nonchalantly before sipping on his beer. “He wanted us to be on the same page about the whole thing before he talked to you about it.”
That motherfucker . I grip the base of the bottle, my knuckles turning white. “He had no right to tell you all before me.”
“I know, Nash,” Hudson comments, a sympathetic expression marring his features. “But it’s better that we know, right? That way we can all be on the same page about it since it does affect the band.”
While Hudson is right, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still pissed at James for telling them before me. I’m the one who has to be in the fucking fake relationship, after all.
“Are you going to do it?” Luca asks, his chocolate eyes focused on me. “I mean… she’s pretty hot from what I saw.”
“Keep it in your pants, Lu,” I respond gruffly, and chug the remainder of the beer. “After the six months is up, you can go for gold.”
I’m reminded of the conversation I had with the little devil only a couple of hours ago. As much as I would find pleasure in telling her agency and James to shove their deal up their fucking asses, I can’t deny the extra publicity for Dark Angel will do us some good as we get ready to go on tour and release the new album in the coming months.
The little devil is going to be a handful, that much I fucking know. From the short conversation we had, she seemed strong-headed and knew what she wanted and how to get it. She has an attitude the size of the fucking Grand Canyon, and I just know it’s going to drive me up the wall.
But I can handle her. So the question is: can she handle me?
“Don’t fuck this up, Nash,” Axel comments, his piercing blue eyes pinning me to the couch. “We need this to work if we want the next record and upcoming tour to be a success. I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but the label is riding on this publicity stunt to go smoothly.”
I roll my eyes and take another drag of the cigarette perched between my fingers. “Yeah, no fucking pressure at all, Ax.”
He holds his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying.”
All this talk of contracts and upcoming records and tours has my head spinning and my pulse racing. It’s too much to handle all at once. It’s not hard for me to get overwhelmed with the details of my life, which is why I often find myself getting lost in alcohol, pussy, and the occasional drug taking. Okay… a lot of drug taking.
And right now, I’m desperate for a hit of all three.
“Okay, you can all get the fuck out of my house now.” I get to my feet and toss the beer bottle into the trash can beside the door.
After putting away their instruments, the three of them make their way toward the door of the studio, beers in hand. When they step out into the hallway, I flick the lights off and shut the door behind me. We walk in silence to the front door where they turn to face me.
“Don’t forget that we have a meeting with James tomorrow at midday, okay?” Hudson reminds me. He’s the most responsible one in the group, always checking our schedule and reminding us of upcoming events or meetings.
“Got it,” I say with a nod, and hold the door open for them.
When they step off the front porch and head down the driveway to their waiting cars, I close the door and spin on my heels. Johnny is standing right behind me with a goofy grin on his face.
The sudden presence makes me jump, and annoyance quickly consumes me. “Jesus fucking Christ, Johnny. You can’t be scaring me like that. Shit.”
“Sorry,” he says, but the stupid look on his face doesn’t shift. “I was wondering if you needed anything.”
I don’t know why I let Johnny hang out at my house. It could be because he enjoys handling shit I don’t want to deal with—like answering the front door and phone calls—or it’s because he knows how to get the good drugs discreetly. I met him at a club one night and he latched onto me like a leech. Once he started coming around for parties, he never left, but I don’t mind. Oddly enough, I enjoy the company. But I won’t ever tell him that.
“Yeah, I need a bag of blow, a bottle of Jack, and for you to leave me the fuck alone for the rest of the night.”
“All done. When you were in your office talking to the pretty blonde lady, I left a bag and a bottle on your nightstand,” he tells me with a smile.
My lip quirks up in a half grin. Johnny may be a fucking idiot, but he never fails to keep me content. I clap a hand on his shoulder as I walk past him to the staircase without another word. When I reach my closed bedroom door, I hear soft moans through the wood.
Gritting my teeth, I swing the door open to find Kitty and Jasmine rubbing their pussies against each other, their heads thrown back in ecstasy. A light sheen of sweat covers their smooth, pale skin. Their hands are a frenzy of pinching and squeezing each other as they continue to fuck.
When Kitty notices my presence, she meets my gaze and simply squeezes one of Jasmine’s perky tits, earning a low moan from her, and shoots me an innocent look. Their pace doesn’t let up.
“Sorry, Nashie, but you took too long and we got bored.”
I roll my neck from side to side and try to ignore how hard my cock is throbbing at the sight of them scissoring on my bed. It’s every teenage boy’s wet dream, but for me, it happens almost every second night. “I warned you there would be a punishment if either of you came without me.”
Jasmine leans forward and runs her tongue up the base of Katie’s neck before looking at me, batting her eyelashes innocently. “Whoops.”
Now this is how I want to end my night—buried between two pussies ready for me. But even as Kitty bounces on my cock and Jasmine rides my tongue, coming all over my face, I find it hard to get the little devil’s soft doe eyes out of my head.