21. Chapter 21
Chapter 21
Ace
A s she explodes in my mouth, I can't help but revel in the power I have over her—just with my tongue. I stand up, and before she can even catch her breath, I lean forward and slam my lips against hers. I want her to taste herself, to savor just how fucking amazing she is. The moment I slip my tongue past her lips, she melts against me. Goddamn, this girl is quicksand, and I know I'm sinking deeper under her spell.
I pull back, desperate to feel my cock buried deep inside her, craving the sensation of her tight walls wrapping around me, hungry for the sound of her moans. I yank off my shirt, kick off my shoes and socks, and quickly shed my jeans. My hard cock stands at attention, ready for the excitement that’s about to unfold. I grab a condom from my pocket and toss my jeans aside. Lifting it to my teeth, I rip the edge of the packet open, and as I slide it on, I can’t help but notice Scarlet’s eyes glued to my cock, filled with need.
I grab her legs and yank her to the edge of the bed, her thighs spread wide, that glistening pussy on full display. I can’t help but moan at the sight of her, ready and waiting for me. Fuck, I need to be in there. Lining up the head of my cock at her entrance, I push in slowly, feeling her stretch around me, the heat and tightness almost overwhelming. "Fuck me, you feel so fucking good," I growl, savoring the sight of my cock disappearing inside her.
When I'm all the way in, I pause, relishing the heat and the way she wraps around me, holding me like a damn vice. It's a rush, knowing I could easily lose control and fuck her senseless like I usually do. But with her, it’s a whole different ball game. I know sometimes she craves that rough edge, wanting me to take her hard, but other times, she likes to slow it down, teasing the hell out of me.
My hand slides up around her throat, fingers splayed, gentle but possessive as I start to fuck her. A helpless whimper escapes her lips, and that sound drives me wild.
“Oh God,” she moans, her body responding to me like a live wire. I pinch her nipple, loving the way she reacts, the way she tells me exactly what she’s enjoying. The louder she gets, the better. None of that fake-ass shit—she’s raw and real, and I can feel every note of pleasure that slips from her lips.
A low growl escapes me as I cup her tits, my tongue swirling over her hardened nipple, loving the way she shudders from my touch. Her breathing quickens as I tease her with a playful bite. My hands slide down to grip her hips, holding her tight as I drive my cock deep inside her, relentlessly, claiming her with every thrust. She clutches the sheets, her knuckles going white as she surrenders completely, her body arching, responding to every grind, every filthy, deep stroke that leaves her trembling under me.
Her gaze locks onto mine, pure pleasure lighting up her face as she bites down on that bottom lip, trying to hold back the screams I want to pull from her. I want to hear every moan, every desperate cry as she loses herself to the way I’m fucking her, pushing her to the edge and driving her insane. I pause, letting her teeter there, so close, holding her just on the brink, her body begging for release.
She meets my eyes with that defiant stare, and I can't help the grin tugging at my lips. I lean down, letting my tongue trace over the soft skin between her tits, teasing her just enough to leave her squirming. “I want to fucking hear you,” I growl against her skin, my voice thick, dripping with need. “So be a good girl, or I’m not going to give you what you want.”
Then I fuck her, feeding off her moans—just how I like it. My hands tighten on her hips, hard enough to leave her aching, to remind her of this for days. The way I'm fucking her—it's fierce, relentless, like it’s the only thing that keeps me grounded, like she's the only thing I need to hold onto. Her sounds, her scent, her body—all of it consumes me, like a drug I can't stop chasing. A drug I’ve willingly chosen, and fuck, I don't know how to stop or even know if I want to.
"Oh god," she gasps, and I can feel it—the pressure coiling tight inside me, the edge so fucking close. The way she's moaning and writhing beneath me, I know she's right there with me, ready to crash. I pick up the pace, skin slapping together in a wild, desperate rhythm. Leaning forward, I crush my lips into hers, the kiss brutal—tongue and teeth, raw, consuming.
"Fuck," I growl, my hips hammering into hers, each movement a fierce balance of punishment and reward. She digs her nails into my ass, trying to pull me deeper with every savage thrust, her body trembling beneath me. My mouth grazes her throat, and the moan she releases vibrates against my lips, her entire body shuddering in response. I pull out, then slam back into her with everything I’ve got, driving us both to the edge of oblivion.
Then it hits—hard. A guttural groan tears from deep within me as I shatter, my release filling her. My mouth against hers is desperate and hungry. Heat pulses as I lose myself completely, still grinding into her, riding out the last wild surges of pleasure. We’re a mess, bodies slick and spent, but fuck, the need for her still simmers beneath the surface. I want to drown in her, to claim her completely until there’s nothing left but us.
Breathless and panting, our bodies still tangled as the aftershocks ripple through us. I lie there, staring at her. Something about the way she looks back at me... fuck, it’s messing with my head. There's something in her eyes I don’t quite understand. It’s not just lust or satisfaction—it’s deeper, something more, something I can’t put my finger on.
I shake the feeling off, pushing it down before it can get a grip on me. This isn’t supposed to mean anything. It can’t.
I get up and pull off the condom, tossing it into the trash without a second thought. But as I return to the bed, a weight settles in my chest. It clings to me like a shadow, something I can’t quite name—something I don’t want to feel. Attachment. No matter how hard I try to brush it off, it lingers, gnawing at the edges of my mind.
Sliding under the sheets, I pull her towards me, my arm draped over her waist. It’s a habit now. The need to touch her, to feel her close, and it’s starting to feel like something I don’t know how to fight. My mind is at war with my body, telling me I should get the fuck out, keep my distance, but instead, I stay right where I am.
Fuck, the whole band’s been giving me the silent treatment. Even Xander—he tore into me the second he found out. Said this shit would drive a wedge between us all, and, of course, he was right. I haven’t said a word to anyone since. Just kept my distance. We’ve had bad blowouts before, some brutal ones, but we’ve always come back from it. This time, though? It feels different. Feels like something’s broken beyond repair.
Theo? That bastard hasn’t let up. He doesn’t even need to say anything, just sits there with that fucking glare like he’s waiting for me to screw up again. Like he’s counting down to the moment he can rip into me. I don’t know if we can come back from this.
What hit me the hardest was the silent treatment from Scarlet, as she ignored my texts and calls. I can’t wrap my head around why that hurt so much. Why the hell is she the only thing occupying my thoughts lately? Last night, not a single groupie caught my eye—I didn’t want any of them. All I craved was her. And when she killed it on that stage, damn, I was bursting with pride. She owned that moment, as if she had been born to do that.
We should all be reveling in our success under the new label, riding the high together. But instead, this mess I created is wedged between us, like a wall I can’t tear down.
And then, throw my mother into the mix, and it’s an even bigger fuck-up. Kit told me yesterday that the media's been hounding her, relentlessly trying to get my side of the story. But there’s no way in hell I’m doing that. No way I can relive all that shit. There’s no way in hell the world needs to hear all the shit I went through. Meanwhile, she's out there selling her story like it's the damn gospel. And now it’s everywhere—every feed I scroll through on my phone, like a constant reminder.
Scarlet shifts beside me, resting her chin on my chest, staring up at me with that smile on her face. And fuck, seeing her like this does something to me. Makes me feel good, like I’m the reason she's smiling like that. I lift my hand and tuck her hair behind her ear, wanting to memorize every detail of this moment.
"You’re beautiful, you know," I say, and I can’t believe those words came out of my mouth. It’s not something I’ve ever said to anyone before, but with Scarlet, I’m doing shit I never thought I’d do. She has this way of getting in, pulling my dark shit to the surface, and somehow making it okay. It’s like with her, I don’t need to hide who I am. And that shit fucking terrifies me.
Now that the guys know about Scarlet and me, I couldn’t give a shit if they find out what we just did. They don’t understand—this feels different from the chicks I’ve fucked before. With Scarlet, I can actually talk about shit, and she won’t judge me for it. She makes me feel safe enough to let my guard down. I want to hold on to this feeling, but part of me is screaming to pull back before I end up revealing too much.
And the sex? Well… Fuck, that's off the charts too, in a way that's hard to put into words. It makes me want to keep coming back for more, which is another thing messing with my head. Normally, I'm the type to bail right after I’ve fucked a chick—no strings attached. It’s always been that way, even back when I was just a horny teenager looking for the next thrill. But lying here beside her, I don’t feel that usual itch to get up and disappear. So, I just stare at her, feeling something that’s both foreign and fucking weird, but there’s this warm, comforting vibe rolling through me.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks.
I can’t help but smile at her question. “Just thinking about what happened the last time we were like this,” I say.
“Well, didn’t that turn into a shitshow,” she says, her voice dripping with amusement. “I’m just waiting for Theo to come pounding on the door.” She laughs, and that sound hits me in a way I don’t expect. I smile.
That’s another odd thing I’m doing these days—smiling. My fingers trace the twisting vines on her arm that lead into the lion’s head.
“What does this mean?” I ask, as I study the ink on her arm.
She lifts her arm, her gaze lingering on the intricate ink. “The vines symbolize growth and resilience, while the lion's head represents courage—the kind that pushes you to face your fears head-on.”
“What fears do you have?” I ask, genuinely curious.
Her eyes flicker with a hint of vulnerability. “I fear never fitting in, never finding the right place where I truly belong. Sometimes it feels like I'm lost, searching for a spot in this world, and I haven’t found it yet.”
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks, and a heavy feeling settles in my chest. It strikes a chord within me, more than I care to admit. I want to let her know that she’s not alone, but I can’t find the words. Instead, I just nod, wishing I could take away that fear for her, wishing I could show her she’s not as lost as she thinks.
“Do you want to do something today?” I ask, trying to keep it casual, but a part of me is wishing for more than just another round in bed.
“What do you mean?” she replies, her brows knitting together in confusion.
“You know, something other than this,” I say, a grin on my face, as I gesture between us. I don’t want her to think it’s a date or anything serious—because it’s definitely not—it’s just two people hanging out and having a good time. “Like, go see the sights. It’s our only day left here before we get back on the bus. With all the shit that’s gone on, I thought we could use a break and maybe go check out a few things.”
“Yeah, but what can we do? You’re famous. It's not like we can just go for a stroll through the city,” she says.
I laugh, thinking back to that time on our New Zealand tour when we used disguises to blend in and see the sights without anyone spotting us. Theo’s ridiculous get-up comes to mind, with his seventies porn-stache, and I can’t help but grin. It stings a bit, realizing that those days might be over now—of hanging out with the guys.
She raises an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”
“Whenever we would go out somewhere like today, we all would wear disguises,” I explain, trying to lighten the mood. “Xander started the whole thing back when he used to sneak off by himself. But you should see Theo’s get-up—he rocks these massive sideburns and a mustache that looks straight out of an old porno film.”
She bursts out laughing, her eyes sparkling with that infectious energy. “Yeah, that sounds just like him.”
But then I notice her smile falter, a hint of sadness creeping in. It stings to realize she’s thinking about Theo, and it fucking sucks that I’ve come between them.
“So, when do you want to head out?” she asks.
“We can head out now if you’re up for it,” I say. “But first, you might need to hit Kit up for some kind of disguise.”
She gets up off the bed and stretches, and damn, it’s a sight to behold. “I need to hit the shower first,” she says, grabbing her phone.
As she stands there texting Kit, I can’t help but let my eyes wander over her tight body, and my cock reacts. It’s impossible to ignore how she gets me so worked up. She’s fucking beautiful—hot as hell—and those tattoos covering most of her body just make her even hotter.
She drops her phone onto the bed and turns toward the bathroom. I get up and follow her, driven by the thought of getting in on some steamy shower sex. There’s no way I’m fucking missing out on that.
As I wait in the lobby for Scarlet to arrive, looking like some damn blonde surfer dude, all I can think about is what went down in the shower. The moans I pulled from her are etched into my mind, and I know I’ll be reliving those moments again, with my hand wrapped around my cock, just like I’ve been doing these past few days. Every time I think about the filthy things we’ve done, it’s like my body’s wired to remember every detail—her skin glistening, her breath hitching, the way she wrapped her legs around me. It’s impossible to ignore how much I fucking crave her.
I pull out my phone and check the time. I’d left Scarlet in her room while she waited for Kit to deliver her stuff. We agreed to meet at eleven-thirty, and I’ve got a few minutes to kill. I sink into one of the seats, fully aware of the stares coming my way. My disguise seems to be drawing more attention than it should. Much like Xander’s, but it’s the only way I can move around without people recognizing me. Better to be under the radar than out in the open, exposed and vulnerable. I’d rather deal with the awkward glances than have some overzealous fan or a tabloid reporter shove a microphone in my face, trying to catch me off guard.
As Scarlet moves towards me, I catch a few guys checking her out as they pass by. She flashes me that smile, the one that drives me wild, and I know she’s totally smirking at my disguise right now. I get up onto my feet.
“What do you think?” she asks, her voice teasing as she twirls a lock of that black wig between her fingers.
I step closer, lowering my mouth to her ear. “You’re gonna leave it on while I’m fucking you tonight.” The words spill out, low and rough. This whole situation is so wrong yet so right, and the way she looks right now only makes it harder to think straight. Just the thought of her in that wig, has me revved up and ready to forget about everything else.
She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “But we’re on the tour bus tonight,” she reminds me.
I let out a low groan. “Well, I guess we'll have to get creative.” I take a deep breath, feeling a rush of excitement as I stare at her for a second longer than I should. And then, I do something I’ve never done before. I reach out and grab her hand. It’s not my usual move—holding hands is too damn intimate, too close, like I’m letting someone get under my skin.
She looks up at me, and I catch a spark of surprise in her eyes. She glances down at our joined hands with a smile playing on her lips.
“We’ve got a cab waiting,” I say. “Kit set it up. I thought we could hit the lake, get away from all the bullshit for a while.”
We walk out of the hotel, side by side, heading toward the cab. The driver’s already waiting, and I help her in—yeah, it feels a bit intimate, but I brush it off. Just something different, I guess. No big deal.
I slide in beside her, and lean back in the seat, trying to chill, but my mind’s all over the place. The city noise fades as the door shuts, and I can’t help sneaking glances at her instead of looking out the window.
Just as I’m lost in thought, her phone buzzes, breaking the silence. She pulls it out of her handbag, and I catch a glimpse of the screen. It’s a message from Theo.
Theo: I’m sorry, Scar.
I watch the screen as she quickly types out a reply, her thumbs moving fast over the screen.
Scarlet: I know. I’m sorry too.
Theo: Be careful, Scar. That’s all I ask.
Scarlet: I’m not a little girl anymore, Theo.
Theo: I know. I love you.
Scarlet: I love you too.
Not wanting her to catch me spying on her messages, I quickly avert my gaze as she slips the phone back into her handbag.
I can't fucking wrap my head around how easily people toss around “I love you.” I’ve heard Xander say it to Poppy and Alex countless times, and Theo and Nate have their brotherly bond, tossing it back and forth without a second thought. It’s like they’re speaking a foreign language—one I’ve never learned. Hell, I can’t even imagine what it would feel like to say those words.