6. Hawk
“Oh, god. Yes! Fuck me harder, Hawk.”
Christ, I fucking hated it when they talked.
Like, I got it. They wanted to fuck me. They all wanted to fuck me. But did they have to be so goddamn loud about it? I was tryin’ to bust a nut here.
Changing position on the small bed, I leaned over the chick beneath me and wove my hand into the hair on the back of her head, grimacing at the sticky, crusty feel to it.
There was no way this bitch was a natural blonde.
She moaned louder, like she was tryin’ to make sure everyone on the bus knew whose dick was inside her, but I was about done with this shit. Pressing her face into the messy blankets, I snapped my hips forward as fast as I could manage, my hair falling in my face as I pushed myself to come as fast as possible and be done with it. Staring down at the woman, I watched as the ash from my smoke flaked off, drifting slowly down and landing on the small of her back, the light gray standing out against the odd plastic dress thing she was wearing. It didn’t look comfortable, but what the fuck did I know? I had just hiked it up when I bent her over, smirking at the fact that she wasn’t wearing any panties underneath.
Didn’t seem entirely hygienic, but fuck, I lived on a bus with three other dudes for the majority of the year. Hygienic went out the window a long time ago.
Now that her face was buried in the mattress, I was able to focus, delivering four more rapid, solid thrusts before pulling out, whipping off the rubber, and coming all over her ass.
For a second, I just stared, wondering what the fuck the point was anymore. I didn’t know this woman; I didn’t know any of them. I just showed up where Mick told me to, picked the chick with the biggest tits, and did my thing. She would pant and moan and tell me how amazing I was—even when I wasn’t—then I’d show her the door and light up a blunt.
Used to be, only two things got my heart racing: performing and fucking.
In that order.
Now, though? It felt like I was just pretending, going through the motions on stage and in the bedroom, not because I was feelin’ it or whatever, but because I was supposed to be doing it. Because it was what I’d always done.
Because I couldn’t think of anything better to do.
Blinking away the depressing thoughts, I pulled the smoke from my lips, crushing in the ashtray next to the bed, then reached over and grabbed the end of the plastic dress and pulled it back down over the chick’s ass, smirking when it smeared my come around as I did. She made a sound of protest, but didn’t actually move to stop me, so whatever.
“Alright, woman,” I said, laying a loud smack on her plastic covered ass cheek and encouraged her to stand. “Get up. Time for you to go.”
“But Hawk,” she whined, and I was regretting this decision more and more every time she opened her mouth.
“But nothin’. You came to the concert, you made it on the bus, you earned my come. That’s the holy trinity, baby. What more could you possibly ask for?”
“I thought—” she started, and I could tell she wasn’t about to let me do this the easy way.
Fine. She’d made her choice.
“Listen, bitch. I don’t care what you thought. No one asked you to think. No one asked you to talk. In fact, you were asked one thing, and one thing only. To come on the bus and bend over my bed. You’ve done that. Now it’s time for you to leave. You can do it on your own, with what remains of your dignity intact, or I can have one of those large, scary guys in the security vests come back here and drag you out over his shoulder, so everyone can see your dark roots and my come dripping down your legs.
“So, what’s it gonna be?”
She glared at me, lips pursed, but she eventually saw the sense in my suggestion.
“You’re a real asshole, you know that?”
“Yeah, I know.”
With one last huff and a flip of her crusty hair, she threw open the door to the bus’s private bedroom and stomped angrily toward the front. On her way past, she cast angry glances at the other people sitting around, daring them to say anything.
They took that shit as a challenge.
“Another Holy Trinity convert?” Alex called out, his guitar slung across his lap like we didn’t just play a two-hour set. Gavin and Lewis laughed, making the blonde curl her lip in disgust.
“You guys are all pigs,” she snarled, which only caused everyone to laugh harder.
“Tell us something we don’t know,” Lewis called after her. He was seated on the low leather sofa, a girl on either side of him, one of them topless, the other with his dick half-way down her throat.
Yeah, we were pigs. So the fuck what? It wasn’t like anyone ever asked anything different of us. Why should they, when we were making them all money hand over fist just the way we were.
Lighting a smoke, I settled into the booth in the kitchen, leaning back against the window as I watched Alex fuck around on his guitar while Gavin tapped out a beat on the arm of the couch with his drumsticks.
Lewis was now alternating between kissing the girls and palming the back of their heads as they went down on him one after the other. The dude liked to have more than one chick at a time for some goddamn reason. Lord knew one bitch was hard enough to keep quiet, but I guessed it was different if you kept their mouths full.
I had almost finished my smoke, when the door to the bus opened and Victoria Castor strutted her fine ass up the stairs, one long, lean leg at a time.
The bitch was hot, there was no doubt, but she knew it, and she used it to her advantage every single time. She prowled into the room wearing a skintight black mini-dress and a pair of sky-high heels I’d pay just about anything to feel digging into my back. Her red hair was long and straight, parted down the middle and looking like she had just stepped out of a salon. Her makeup was sharp, dark eyes and a lip the same deep ember color of her hair, like blood, but darker.
She was a viper, a fucking succubus in a five-thousand-dollar dress who would suck your soul out through your cock if you ever got close enough for her to touch it.
And fuck, how I wanted her to touch it.
Unfortunately for me, her daddy owned the label, so Mick had made me swear to stay completely hands off when it came to her.
I could fuckin’ look, though.
Victoria scanned the bus, taking in the small collection of roadies and groupies in various stages of drunk, high, and naked before she clocked me, her gaze narrowing in contemplation before she headed my way, her hips swaying seductively as she did.
There was a gagging noise from the couch, and I turned my head, seeing that Lewis had his eyes glued to Victoria, his jaw clenched as the girl who currently had her head in his lap choked and sputtered around his dick. He held her down, his hand fisted in her hair as he stared at Victoria, the girl’s hands pressing hard against his thighs, trying to free herself from the rod in her throat, but Lewis was too busy watching Victoria’s ass to notice.
“Hey!” I barked, causing Lewis to whip his head to me. “You gonna let that bitch up, or you planning on burying a body tonight? Because we need to be in Tucson by noon tomorrow, so figure your shit out.”
Realizing what he was doing, Lewis released the girl, pushing her away so roughly she tumbled off the couch and landed on the floor, coughing and wiping at the mascara-streaked tears that were rolling down her cheeks. Her friend stood, tits still out, and looked indecisively between Lewis’s unattended dick and the girl on the floor like she couldn’t decide which was more important to her. While she was still deciding, the girl on the floor finally caught her breath and promptly burst into tears, loudly proclaiming that she wanted to go home.
That finally decided the topless chick, who quickly scooped up her shirt and hauled her friend from the floor by her arm, muttering about how she always ruined everything.
Victoria watched them go, one eyebrow raised in amusement.
“Quitting before you come, Lewis?” she purred, and I smirked as Lewis quickly shoved his dick back into his pants, his face a mottled red as he obviously avoided making eye contact with Victoria. “That’s a first. You feeling alright?”
“I’m good, Tori,” he said, accepting the beer one of the roadies handed him. “Just realizing my tastes are a little more discerning these days.” He leaned back on the couch, trying to look cool, but I saw through his act.
Lewis wanted to fuck her. He had always wanted to fuck her, but unfortunately for Lewis...Victoria wanted to fuck me.
“Well,” Victoria said, laughing lightly. “Here’s hoping you find something more to your liking in Arizona tomorrow night, hey?” With that, she dismissed him, seating herself at the table across from me and leaning forward, allowing me to see directly down the low-cut top of her too-tight dress.
“Hey, Hawk,” she cooed, licking her blood-red lips. “You gonna offer me a drink, or what?”
Oh, yeah. Victoria Castor wanted to fuck me, alright.
I just had to decide if fucking her was worth risking our record deal.