Chapter 12
L iam
I’d be lying if I said I’d never had a good blow job before. Of course I had. Women had been coming backstage to our shows for five years now. There were bound to be loads (pun intended) of excellent ones. And yeah, a few stood out in my memory as mind-blowing (heh, heh).
But none of them had come from a woman like Abby.
From the moment she pulled down my zipper, I knew I was going to experience something sweeter, softer, cleaner, more elegant. Abby did not ravage me with sheer force, slurping and sucking like a porn star. She didn’t pose in self-aware ways, putting her butt up in the air, pressing her boobs together, or looking up at me from under heavily painted eyes. It wasn’t a show for my benefit, and she wasn’t on exhibit. It was simply a gift—a gift so I’d feel good, relax after the fight with Tuck, and that meant more to me than anything .
Her dark lips took me in, all the way at first, then back again, concentrating on just the head, sucking and twisting me in her mouth so slowly I thought I would explode within the first few strokes. She kept her eyes down, as if I weren’t invited to this party, as if this were a date between just her and my cock, as she examined it from all angles and tasted it from all different sides. I threw my head back and closed my eyes.
Holding me in one hand, she ran her hot tongue, flat and even, along the shaft to the head of my cock, feeling the curve of the bulge. Then she slowed and concentrated right on the underside, rubbing her tongue over and over on the crown while occasionally wrapping her mouth around the whole head to suck gently. Holy God in heaven. Most women got so wrapped up in jerking my cock, so hard it sometimes hurt, and they forgot this sweet spot entirely. Yet here was Abby, and though I had no idea how many times she’d done this before, she was enjoying this as though it were a gift for herself.
I looked up and groaned, pushing a hand into her hair, holding her in place. “Right there, Abby…so good…”
It was then that she looked up, and I nearly lost it. Her eyes watched my face, gauged my pleasure, as she tried several different moves with her tongue, all the way testing to see how I’d react with each one. “Is that okay?” she asked.
So fucking cute. “More than okay. Perfect, so perfect…” I said.
She smiled slightly and bowed her head, her sexy eyes turning downward again. “Good, ’cause I like it, too.” She shifted her body weight toward my searching hand. My fingers found her upper thighs and ass, which I massaged through her pants, but it wasn’t enough, and I sat up to undo them, while she continued sucking on me. “Don’t you want this?” she mumbled.
“I do want this, but I want you to feel good, too. I have to make you feel good.”
She shifted to her knees on the floor between my legs, giving me an even better view of her sucking me off, and I took the opportunity to slide my hand down into her panties, all the way until I found that sweet spot, so hot and wet and wanting me. My God, she really was enjoying it, too. I couldn’t help it and plunged my fingers into her, using my thumb to rub her clit at the same time.
She moaned, her eyes flying open to look at me again through a lustful gaze, as her body pushed against my hand. She sucked deeper on my cock, got sloppy, and it was beautiful, because it was coming from her desire for more, not from a need to impress me. The more I rubbed her, the less calculated her movements became, and she just sucked with wild abandon in rhythm with my fingers. As one hand stroked my cock in tandem with her mouth, the other pressed down on my hand, guided it, showed me how to please her by pressing down on her clit with two fingers while she moved in circles.
Instinctively, I moved my hips and pushed my cock farther into her mouth, wanting to feel the back of her throat, wanting her to look at me with those fucking sexy eyes right when I did it, but she was so engrossed in what she was doing, it was like she was lost in another world.
“Look at me,” I said.
She did, dark eyes finding mine.
“I think I’m falling for you, Abby.”
She blinked slowly. Her lips worked me sweetly, lovingly.
Her hand gripped mine and pushed harder, grinding my fingers against her pussy until her legs tightened, and her mouth opened. My cock pushed against her open mouth, her groaning mouth, her coming, gasping mouth, as she cried out, and her whole being hung suspended. I felt waves of pure ecstasy ripple through her. I felt her muscles contracting against my fingers, and I felt an adoration I’d never felt before, as she sucked on me as she came, and made me come, too.
Into her mouth. She took it, tasted it, and yes, swallowed it, then she collapsed her head into my lap and fell into a sleep-like trance so deep I was afraid of speaking to disrupt it. We lay like this for several minutes, and I thought about how perfect life would be if I had her with me every day to share.
But sharing my days on the road? While on tour? Making her share me with my bandmates and screaming fans? God, was it even possible?
Hearing the voices of others far away, as if in another realm, I thought about how we had to get going, how the venue people would begin cleaning up soon. I wanted so much to bring her with me on the bus ride to Vancouver. Any groupie would’ve given her right arm to come with us, but it was for that reason Abby probably wouldn’t want to. Moreover, she’d probably want to ride with her string section because she wouldn’t want to ignore her friend, was sensible and practical, and didn’t usually do the obvious, impulsive thing that I so desperately wanted her to.
“Ab? I know you might not think it’s a good idea, but…”
She took my hand and held it close to her face, inhaling the scent of my skin. “Can I stay with you tonight?” Lazily, she cracked open her eyes to peer at me with a gentle smile. “I think I’m falling for you, too, Liam.”
It was late, and the guys were mostly drunk when I slipped Abby onto our sleeper bus. The smuggling did not go unnoticed by Helen, however, who watched from her group of last-minute smokers just outside their ready-to-depart buses. She gave me a quick but obvious glare as I led Abby in, but I couldn’t stop to think about it. Helen always seemed to have some problem or another lately, and honestly, it was getting kind of bullshit.
In the feeble light of the bus, Abby pushed her cello case under my bunk and crawled into my bed. I spooned behind her, covering her with my blanket. She settled in for the short ride to Vancouver. We’d arrive in about three hours and could move to our hotel suites for the rest of the day if we wanted to, though the band and I sometimes just kept sleeping on the bus like old times.
“This feels strange.” There was a smile in her voice.
“What does?” I breathed in her intoxicating scent, still new and mesmerizing to me.
“This. Just last week, I imagined myself working your show, spending free time with Rosemary and the others, and getting paid until the tour was over. Get in, get out.”
“And now?”
“And now…I’m in the bed of the band’s lead singer, someone I never imagined myself ever being with. I thought you’d be brash, bad for me, making poor choices, and being a general…”
“What? Say it.”
“Douchebag.”
“Ouch! That’s worse than jerk and asshole but not as bad as motherfucker. Fine, I’ll take it.” I smiled into her hair. “But to be fair, I never saw myself with you either.”
“Is that a good or bad thing? Tell me what you envisioned,” she whispered, her voice like a stained glass nightlight in the darkness.
“Well…I envisioned kicking ass then partying like I usually do, getting drunk every night to cover up the fact that, despite people surrounding me at all times when we’re on tour, I’m actually pretty goddamned lonely.”
“That’s sad, Liam. I’m sorry,” she said, stroking my arm with a light touch. “But I feel the same. I mean, aside from Samuel…”
“Samuel?”
“My ex-boyfriend. I was with him for four years until a couple weeks ago. I haven’t known any other guy except him. And you want to know the sad thing?” she asked. “I was more lonely when I was with him than when we broke up. I’d just reached a point where I had no idea why I was with him anymore, other than out of habit.”
I nodded and thought about how familiar that sounded. “I agree. My buddies are awesome, don’t get me wrong…they’ll be there for me if I need them. But there’s always that feeling…that at the end of the day, the only person you can really count on is yourself. Abby, I don’t trust most women I meet. You have to know that. For me to let one this close to my heart is pretty fucking rare.”
The strokes on my arm ceased. “Yet you let them into your bed,” she said, not accusingly, just stating a fact.
“I’m not going to lie.” I leaned my head on her shoulder. “I’ve slept with lots of women, but look…it’s like eating candy every fucking day. Yeah, candy is great and sweet, but it’s completely nutrition-less. After a while, you get sick of it. Your body craves a meal full of vitamins instead of empty calories. You feel me? Your body rejects the junk.” She made no gesture of understanding. No nods, no noises, just silence. “I’m speaking utter horseshit again, aren’t I?”
“Yes, but I’m starting to understand the language,” she said.
I scoffed, pretending to be hurt, when really, I loved when she made fun of me. She kept me real. Another reason why she’d be good for me.
“So you’re calling me a salad,” she said, running thin, strong fingers through my hair.
Chuckling, I flipped her to face me and searched her dark brown eyes. “I’m calling you a fucking filet mignon. With garlic mashed potatoes, a side of buttery corn, and a sweet cherry wheat beer to polish it all off.” I kissed her. She let me. She understood. Most women would get offended by me calling them a craft beer. “Fuck, now I’m hungry.”
She burst out laughing. I couldn’t even say how awesome it was to hear her do that so openly, without guarding herself like she had before. I loved this side of her, and I loved that I brought it out of her. I wanted to do it for a long, long time.
But my brain pushed back the fear. I wanted to think I was strong enough for her. But…there was a major difference between my parents falling in love and me falling for Abby. My folks hadn’t had this life of fame, money, and excess to thwart their efforts and knock them off the straight-and-narrow path.
I could only hope that if—no, when —the time came for me to fight off temptation, I would be strong enough to handle it. In the meantime, I’d cling to Abby for dear life. If I followed her path, she might just lead me.
When the sun filtered in through the windows and Tucker’s idiotic face peered into the bunk at us, I knew I shouldn’t have brought Abby into this mess.
“So,” Tucker began.
“Tuck, don’t be a dick.” It was Wes’s voice from his bunk across the way.
“Leave him alone, Tucker,” Corbin’s deep voice warned from somewhere else.
“I’m not, I’m not…” he assured them. “So, you and Asian Persuasion, huh?” His arms hung on to the top bunk, and his face was shrouded in darkness from sticking it so far up his ass.
I felt Abby stir awake and curl into me, giving Tucker her back. Good for her. She was learning to ignore him, to let him say his stupid shit without being affected. Once you learned how not to let him under your skin, he was actually not a bad guy.
“It’s cool. No worries,” he said, nodding. “She’s a little defense mechanism to help you before you see the ex, to ensure you stay away from her, I get it.” He chuckled in the way an evil clown might assault your memories, and I did everything in my power not to let him get to me .
“You know,” I said carefully, “your face is just within reach of my fist, ol’ buddy.”
In the background, Wes laughed. “Tell him, bro.”
Tucker winked at me. “Just kidding, Lee, baby. No need to bring out the claws. I actually like you two. You look real cute. Reminds me of high school again. Hey, Abby, you know your boy here is just a glorified drama goon, right? Ask him to show you pics sometime of his Afro and glasses.”
“Sounds like a hottie,” Abby said, lifting her chin to kiss me long and slow. And deep. Full make-out. In front of Tucker. I loved this girl’s dark side.
“SSssszzzzz…” Tucker made a show of shielding his eyes from the sizzling sight, then he walked away, shaking his head. “Man, you guys do not want to go in there and see that shit. I don’t even know who that dude is. It’s like an alien ate Liam and pooped out his ugly remnants. Fucking scary.”
Abby giggled against my kiss. “I made him go away.”
“Supremely awesome. You make me proud, girl.”
In the middle of the parking lot, right by our sleeper bus, Abby stretched her hand out toward mine to keep from letting go. “I had a great night with you, Liam.”
I pressed her hand against my lips. “Me too, Abby.”
“Maybe I’ll see you in a few hours?” The way she said it was tinged with doubt, like she knew there might be a chance I’d be busy, like she’d heard about the Vancouver danger through the grapevine.
After spending the night with Abby, I felt confident there was no danger. That I wouldn’t hurt her. That I had it in me to be the man she needed, the same man I’d always wanted to become.
“Definitely. Have a great rehearsal, Ab, and don’t forget to practice Serenade , too. Can’t have you not getting into that uppity orchestra all because of that hot guy who’s always distracting you.” I winked at her. She smiled even though I’d called her philharmonic uppity, and I watched her walk away, hips straight, shoulders square, lugging her case with beauty in her purposeful steps. She glanced back once.
I waved, other hand in my pocket, no shirt, feeling the early morning chill, keeping an eye on her. I was just about to turn into the bus and face the buttload of questions I knew I’d be getting from the guys when Helen beat them to it. Severe lines were etched on her face, and her eyes were glassy and hard. She leaned against the bus, smoking what was probably her tenth cigarette of the morning.
“I guess you’re serious about her, huh?” she asked.
“I like her, yeah. Is that a problem?”
“You know, Liam…” She shook her head and kicked at the asphalt with the toe of her sneaker. “I’ve been with you every step of the way. I knew you when you drove a beat-up Honda with one door missing.”
“That’s what friends are for. I’ve always been there for you, too. It’s why we let you come along with us.”
“Oh, you let me come along with you?” Her eyebrows flew up in rage.
“What? Did I say something wrong? It’s true, isn’t it? You come with us because you’re one of us. We want you here.”
She scoffed. “Don’t do me any favors, Liam.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, bro?” I asked, though I was starting suspect.
“Bro,” she mocked. “God, you’re so clueless, it’s not even funny.” She turned to leave, but I grabbed her arm and spun her around.
“What am I so clueless about, Helen? Tell me.” If she was going to accuse me of being stupid, I wanted her to at least spell out what it was I was supposed to know.
She shoved my hand away. “The fact that you have to ask proves that you are. The fact that you can’t, for one second, look at me as anything other than one of your bros is what I’m talking about!” Her tears betrayed her. They spilled, then she did the unthinkable. I saw it coming, though I couldn’t move or prevent it. It was almost as if I deserved it, so I just stood there, allowing her hand to clock back then come forward and slap me hard.
Thwack! One tight crack.
“Are you kidding me right now?” I asked, holding on to my stinging cheek.
“I show you, I give to you, I stand by you.” She was really bawling now, hurt forcing out all her tears. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to give me a chance.” She was rambling, wiping her eyes, fumbling over words. And drunk, not because she liked to be, but because she was trying not to think of me.
Tucker burst out of the bus just then, landing on the asphalt like a pack of firecrackers. “Dude, I told her she didn’t want to come here and see things her eyes couldn’t take back, but she didn’t listen. Helen, just fucking tell him already.”
“Tell me what?” My eyes flitted back and forth between two of my best friends.
“That if she can’t marry you and have ten thousand of your babies”—Tucker laughed, ringing his arm around Helen—“then she doesn’t want anyone else. Ever.”
“Is that true?” I crossed my arms, facing her. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
“Because a girl shouldn’t have to say it.”
“Well, I don’t fucking read minds!” I yelled.
“I think it’s time I leave,” she said, turning to Tucker, who threw his hands in the air and disappeared into the bus.
“Why?” I said. “You don’t have to go, babe.”
“There’s no reason for me to stay, babe .” She sniffed, pressing her hands into her face. “The only reason I came along on this year’s tour was to tell you that, to see if anything would develop between us. Last thing I expected was that you’d fall for that”—she gestured in the direction Abby had walked off—“thing.”
“Her name is Abby.”
“Whatever her fucking name is!” She stormed off toward her bus, head hanging, and me feeling like I’d bypassed douchebag and gone straight to Motherfucker of the Year.