Chapter Seven SMUT
Chapter Seven:
SMUT
Alaina
Normally, I hate waiting for a pit to clear out.
Being up front is an unbelievable experience during the show, but after, you’re the last one out.
Unless you bodyslam your way to an exit, anyway, but that’s not my style.
Not usually. And today, I’m particularly inclined to stay where I’m at until my heartbeat returns to normal.
During the second to last song, Sebastian Kincaid walked his smoking hot ass down into the pit, made his way directly to me, grabbed my hand, kissed it, and then fucking winked at me before making his way back up.
He’s complicating the hell out of my plan, and I can feel the walls I’ve built starting to crack. I need to be careful about this, about how I handle it and when I tell him the truth, and I can’t let myself get swept away in the process.
I can’t.
Yet as his handler squeezes his way toward me and Brooke, my stomach drops. I know what he’s going to say before he says it, and yet it still makes my fingers shake. “I trust you two know who Bash Kincaid is, yes?”
“Yes!” Brooke practically screams. “Of course we do!”
The handler smiles. “Good. He’s asked me to extend an invitation to both of you tonight. We’re headed to an afterparty not far from here.”
“Both of us?” Brooke snorts, looking a little too pleased with herself for a second, but the handler shakes his head.
“Both of you are invited to the party,” he clarifies. “Bash thought you’d be more comfortable if your friend was allowed to join, Miss...?”
Oh, that’s me. He’s looking at me.
“Alaina,” I rush out. “Alaina Barclay.”
“Miss Barclay.” He smiles warmly, and I’m struck for a moment by how young he is.
Usually rock star handlers are a little more long in the tooth, but he doesn’t look a day older than me.
“My name is Sidney, you can ask for me if you have any questions or get lost on the way. Here’s my card with my cell number on it and the address for the party is on the back.
” He slips it to me, then adds, “You should know he’s not inviting you simply for drinks and photographs. He’s... interested in you.”
So he wants to fuck. Why not just say that? This is a rockstar who keeps a pocket pussy in his nightstand in case he can’t get his dick wet enough other ways, of course he wants to fuck.
Why am I kind of annoyed by it?
He doesn’t know who I am, I remind myself. To him, I’m just a pretty face in a pretty crowd, not damaged goods that he once helped. It’s not his fault.
“We’ll be there,” Brooke assures him, grabbing my arm to tug me away before I can let any of that come out of my mouth. Once we’re clear, she stops to gently punch my shoulder. “I fucking told you he was into you!”
“Yeah,” I agree. “You did.”
I just wish I understood why it feels so off.
––––––––
Turns out the house party belongs to one of the producers from Hollow Apparition’s record label, and it’s massive.
My house is pretty big, but this one makes it look like a doll house.
The music is so loud when we walk up that I know we’re in the right place, but we have to walk through four separate rooms and down an egregiously long hallway before we find a single human being.
For an afterparty, it’s pretty sparse — there are maybe ten people in this room and I can hear conversation trickling in from another, but I expected more.
I think Brooke did, too. She looks disappointed until Jonah spots her and waves her over.
“Do you mind?” she asks, then immediately backtracks. “Never mind, of course you don’t. You were going to leave me for Bash anyway.”
She wanders over and crawls right into his lap, and I’m so busy staring at them for a moment that I don’t notice the giant lumbering shadow hanging over my shoulder until it touches me.
Jumping, I whirl around to find Bash standing there with a lazy grin. “Hey, stranger. You look like you’re looking for someone.”
Oh, fuck.
He’s entirely in his element and I’m so far out of mine, I should be holding a caution sign. “I was looking for the man who invited me. Sidney says that’s you, is it true?”
“Mmhm.” He looks me up and down and nods toward a couch on the other side of the room from everyone else, and when his finger hooks with mine to guide me there, I’m suddenly a ten year old little girl again just looking for some warmth.
Some things haven’t changed.
With a lump in my throat, I curl up next to him and desperately try to come up with something to say that isn’t lame. “Sidney seems nice.”
Yeah, that works. Jesus Christ, Alaina.
He huffs. “Don’t tell him that, he’ll never let us hear the end of it. So, Alaina, how long have you been a fan of screamo?”
Well, at least he asked Sidney my name. “Honestly a long time,” I admit. “Ever since I was a little girl and a boy I once knew lent me an earbud.”
Come on, Bash. Remember me.
He stares at me so long I convince myself he’s about to ask, but instead he drops his gaze. “I have this theory that music finds us when we need it most. Do you want a drink?”
“Several,” I say quickly. “I’m not picky.”
“I’ll be right back.”
He touches my leg before he stands up and walks away, and before I can even exhale a breath, Levi plops down next to me with hazed eyes. He’s fucked up.
“What’s up? I’m Levi, what’s your name?”
He holds his hand out to shake mine, so I take it gingerly as I turn to face him better. I also back up a little in the process. “I know who you are,” I laugh. “I’m Alaina, I’m here with Bash.”
“Are you, now?” He glances over to where Bash disappeared to and then back at me.
“That’s cute. Between you and me, he’s been a fucking prude this tour.
I was hoping you were here for him. On another note, do you think your blonde friend wants to take a quick trip to Paris tonight or should I leave them be? ”
God, some girls have all the luck. “I think she’d take Yasmin too. Yeah, you have to. You have to offer that.”
“Yas is a hard sell because she hates everyone 90% of the day, but she might make an exception for her. What’s her name?”
“Brooke. But if you walk over calling her princess, she’ll let you get first dibs on which hole you want.” Is that rude of me to say? Fuck it, this will be the best night of her life and I’m just helping her get there. “Have fun!”
“Thanks for the tip. I’ll give you one back.” He stands like he’s about to leave, and then bends to whisper into my ear. “Don’t moan Sebastian.”
As he stands up straighter, Bash bumps him out of the way without a hint of remorse, and hands me a drink. “Is he bothering you? I can call Sidney and get him put in time out if he is.”
“See what I mean? Prude.”
Levi walks away laughing as Bash meets my gaze questioningly, so I take a deep drink before I have to tell him the truth.
“Apparently they want to take Brooke to Paris. I was just giving him a tip.”
He was also telling me something I already know. Bash hates his full name, even though I love it. “Thanks for the drink.”
“You’re welcome.” He looks over at his bandmates and chuckles. “Paris, huh? That something you’re interested in, or can I keep you to myself tonight?”
Under any other circumstances, I’d be down. But this band? This man? No way. “I was hoping it would just be us. Somewhere quieter, maybe?”
His orange eyes drop to my lips as he licks his. “Yeah, I have a room here tonight. Come on.”
He gets to his feet and interlocks his fingers with mine, and it surprises me.
Horny rockstars don’t seem like the romantic types, especially ones who send their handlers to pick women up for them.
But Bash seems like he’s exactly who I knew he’d be, a soft-hearted man in a rough exterior, just like he’s always been.
“Have you been here before? This house is beautiful.”
“Yeah, it’s nice. Michelle has live-in cleaners and shit, so it’s always spotless, too.
Until we’re here, anyway.” We make our way up a windy staircase filled with photos of his producer and other celebrities, Bash taking his time pointing out fellow metalcore artists before he makes it to his picture near the top.
He looks like he isn’t even twenty in the photo, his dark hair long enough to cover his eyes completely, and his nails are painted black. “I was an emo little bastard.”
“Weren’t we all? You were cute, though. Always have been.” This is it, Alaina. Just tell him.
“I’m sure you were, too.” He tugs me down a hallway to his room, and then takes a huge drink from his cup. “Are you nervous?”
Setting the cup aside, he closes the distance between us and drops his hand to my hips, making me even more nervous than I already was.
It’s probably wrong to sleep with him when he doesn’t know who I really am, right? That seems shady. I should tell him.
But as he steps a little closer and grips a little tighter, I realize he doesn’t want to know who I am. Not right now, anyway. He’s not asking, not even trying to make small talk now that we’re alone.
The wall only cracks a little.
“Why would I be nervous?” I ask, rocking up on my toes as I grip his chin. “You’re not so scary.”
“No? Prove it.”
He grips under my thighs to lift me up, and everything else fades. I can tell him after, or tomorrow at the meet and greet dinner. For right now, I want to enjoy this. For now, I want to pretend.
Kissing him fiercely, I tangle my hand in his hair and tug. His grunt travels straight down to my clit as he turns to carry me to the bed, and when we collapse onto it, his mouth becomes feverish.
His hands are rough as they squeeze my skin, broad and strong. Fuck, he tastes like sin. Sucking his tongue, I slip my hands down to undo his belt, fumbling a little more than usual.
He may not know, but I do. This might be the only man on earth who actually deserves what he’s about to get.
Thanks to Brooke’s warning, I’m not surprised by the piercing when I pull him out — but I am intimidated. Fuck, everything about this man is incredible.