27—Interstate 76 （Larinda’s Bus）
Because I have the best personal assistant and security detail on the planet, Val and I make it back to my bus with very little drama. Everyone else has already departed for Hershey, but they were assured I was fine and would be following shortly once my “fashion emergency” had been resolved. (Steve also apologized for the weird lie but couldn’t think of anything better to explain why I left the venue mid-dress.) Once everyone learns the truth tomorrow, the lie won’t matter anyway.
For now, Val and I have one last night of freedom from drama and prying eyes. So what do you do with your final hours of bliss?
Rework the bridge of “Forever A Fantasy.”
“What about this?” I say, strumming through a progression on my guitar.
Val is propped against the headboard of my bed, the laptop on his thighs. He removes his hat to adjust his hair before replacing it which means…
Ugh.
“Fine. What about this?” I say.
He reaches over and covers my hand to stop me.
“The other one was okay, it’s just, that’s basically the same progression as the verse, so if we’re going to use it, we need to change up something else. Are you committed to those lyrics?”
“What’s wrong with my lyrics?”
“Nothing if you want to call this verse three instead of a bridge.”
I shoot a nasty look, and he grins as I shove his knee.
“Fine, genius. Then what are you thinking?”
I hold out the guitar, but he waves it away and pulls on the headphones instead. “One sec.”
I watch with a little intrigue and a lot of awe as his fingers dance over the trackpad. I know my way around a DAW, but how he works so quickly and effortlessly always blows me away. It’s like his brain operates in plugins and midi notes. (It’s also incredibly hot, although I’d rather eat an entire tub of carrot-flavored almonds than admit that right now.)
After a few seconds of secretly drooling over my boyfriend, I return to picking through some chords on my guitar. I’m already counting the days until we can get into my studio and play around with this stuff for real. Two more shows and we’ll have a week off to go home before jumping into the next phase of the tour.
After tomorrow, though, who knows what will happen. I’m sure video and news of our little display on the sidewalk are already spreading like wildfire. As soon as Rena, Jarvis, and the rest of the enemy wake up, they’ll have all the evidence they need to destroy us. The song Val and I are working on now isn’t even for the next album. It’s a new one we started for our indie production when Lakebend drops me and their lawyers lock our other songs in an untouchable vault.
“Okay, here,” Val says, ripping off the headphones and handing them to me. “Let me know what you think.”
His expression sinks from confidence to doubt in a split second. That’s what always happens when he hands his work over to be critiqued. It’s the strangest thing, and it bothers me to no end. While he’s wrapped up in creation, he operates with the grace and skill of the talented expert he is. As soon as he leaves that creative bubble, however, his determined stare becomes wide, anxious eyes.
He fidgets with the edge of the comforter as I take the headphones and slip them over my ears. After pivoting the laptop in my direction, I hit the spacebar to listen and…
Wow.
This is…
Incredible.
He’s layered the main keys riff of the intro over the rhythm guitar of the chorus and added a stripped-back, syncopated beat to give it a hip-hop vibe. It’s a delicious surprise no one will see coming and the type of hook people will throw on repeat. How did his brain even think to do that?!
He must have started on this idea before now. It’s already too polished and thought out to have been thrown together, which means despite everything that’s happened this past week, he’s still had faith in our music.
As he should, because this is amazing.
“Val…” I whisper.
His tense frown tips up into a relieved smile.
“You like it?” The hint of shyness in his voice is both adorable and exasperating.
I take off the headphones, close the laptop, and shove both to the other side of the bed.
He deflates as his gaze lands on the banished laptop.
“You didn’t like it,” he sighs out.
“Can I tell you something, Perceval Andrews?”
He straightens in surprise when I crawl toward him.
“What’s that?”
I straddle him and frame his face. “I am so in love with your brain.”
The worried crease in his brow softens, and lips I dream about tip up into the most beautiful smile.
“Oh,” he says. “So you do like it.”
“No, I just said I loved it.”
“No. You said you loved my brain. That could mean you?—”
“Shut. Up,” I say with a debate-ending kiss.
His snark becomes a groan as I draw him in with a gentle bite on his lower lip. Gripping his jaw, I deepen the kiss into the one I’ve been craving. He responds with matching desperation that has me writhing for more. Hot blood pulses throughout my body, pooling between my legs which are already straining to reach the growing hardness in his jeans. The need is hungry and insatiable, which is why I swear it hurts me more than him when I abruptly let go.
“Nope,” I say, shifting out of reach. “You’re gonna have to earn it.”
His mouth hangs open as he stares at me in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Very.”
“Earn it how?” The pleading in his voice draws a smile from me. I sense that brain I love spinning wildly. The burning tension in his muscles as I run my hand down his chest toward his zipper tells me I could ask for literally anything and get it. But there’s one thing I want more than sex right now.
“Tell me something good about yourself.”
He flinches. “What?”
“You heard me. Tell me something good about yourself.”
“Larinda… What are you?—”
I cut him off with a hard look while my palm grazes the front of his jeans.
He sucks in a breath, his eyes fluttering closed before fixing on me in confusion.
I remove my hand. “Like I said, you need to earn it. So let’s hear it. Give me something.”
“This is stupid.”
“Maybe. You know what else is stupid? Passing on this”—I wave over myself with playful cockiness—“because you’re too chicken to play a sex game.”
His expression is too cute.
“Oh, this is a sex game? I’m sure people are crashing porn sites in search of smoking hot positive affirmation foreplay.”
“Okay, fine,” I say with a shrug. “I’m going to grab a drink before bed. You want anything?”
I make a dramatic move to climb off him, not even a little surprised when he grips my hips to stop me.
“Ugh! Whatever,” he mumbles.
I settle back and lift a brow. “Great. So what is it? Tell me something good about yourself.”
“I have a clean driving record.”
I search his face for a second, then snort a laugh when his grin breaks. I mean, technically he followed the rules. Guess we have to start somewhere.
With great ceremony, I reach toward my foot and slowly remove a sock.
“Wait…” he says with suspicion. “Is that how this works? It’s like some weird version of strip poker?”
“Yep.” I drop the sock over the side of the bed. “You want to try again?”
His hungry gaze scours my body, and I innocently drag a finger down my shirt between my breasts. “Unless you want to stop now and drink that bottled water?”
His glare is too adorable to count as ornery.
“You’re evil.”
“Opportunistic. Clock is ticking, lover boy. Tell me something good about yourself.”
He clenches his jaw, but I already see him caving. “I have green eyes.”
I roll mine. “Nope.”
“What? It’s true.”
“Yeah, and the game isn’t ‘tell me a random fact on your driver’s license.’ It’s ‘tell me something good.’”
“Green eyes can be good.”
“They can be. Are yours?”
He blinks those showstopping eyes at me as he thinks. Part of me is amused. The other part is aching at how hard this is for him. And that part is the reason we’re playing this “game.” I’m not above using sex to force him to acknowledge how amazing he is.
“I guess?”
“Not good enough.” I cross my arms, waiting.
“Fine. Yes. I have nice eyes.”
“Better.” I pull off another sock.
“Socks? Really?”
“As I explained, you need to earn it. Little confessions get little rewards. Big confessions get big rewards. So far you’re fishing in the sock pool, my friend.”
His lips tip up in the slightest smile, even as his fist clenches at his side. He hates this, but he loves me and has no idea what to do with that dilemma. Good. That’s why we’re here to bridge the gap.
“Next,” I say.
“I’m… um… patient.”
His gaze drops to his hand as he picks at invisible lint on his jeans, and my heart stirs in my chest.
“You are,” I say softly.
He looks up again as I tug off my oversized tee. I warm beneath his admiring scan that drifts over my bare chest before lifting to my eyes. I know it’s breaking the rules, but I can’t stop myself from leaning forward and brushing a gentle kiss on his lips.
“Keep going,” I whisper.
His Adam’s apple moves as he swallows and averts his gaze again. A shadow passes over his face. Something heavy is clearly making its way through his brain.
Please, baby. Please see what I do.
“I’m… uh…” He studies the hem of his shirt. “Resilient.”
Tears prick my eyes when he blinks back the pain behind that confession.
I pull off my sleep shorts.
“Keep going.”
He shakes his head.
“Val. Keep. Going.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
His tortured gaze flickers back to me.
“I’m… not a failure like everyone thinks.”
I choke back emotion as I pull him against me and bury my face in his neck. “Not even close, baby. Gosh, not even close.”
He wraps his arms around me, clinging hard.
“I belong here.”
Unable to speak, I just nod, hoping he can absorb every affirming cell of my agreement. He’s so incredibly special. Nothing seems as important as making him believe that in this moment.
He drags his fingertips along my lower back, sending chills over my skin. It feels so good, and I grip his shirt to help him tug it over his head. Once his warm skin is pressed against mine, I feel home.
“I love you so much,” I say. “I didn’t even think people like you existed. I’m so glad I found you and I can’t believe you’re mine.”
His hold tightens, and I press my lips against his throat. Up his neck. Over his jaw until they’re back where they belong, joined with his.
He threads his fingers into my hair as he guides me back on the bed. His hips press deep and low, tempting me with a hard promise I want so badly.
“Did you ever get your condoms back from Jarvis?” I ask, shoving my palms over his backside to force the friction where I need it. Except it’s not where I need it. Not even close.
“Yeah, because he was so excited about the prospect of me having sex with you,” he says dryly.
“I thought you bought them for Sage and Coriander.”
He lifts up to give me a look, and I bite back a grin. “Fine. Then I guess we’re living dangerously.”
His eyes go wide. “What?”
“I’m having sex with you tonight, so it’s up to you how. Do you want me to see if Rory will stop?”
“Rory?”
“The man driving the bus.”
I make a move to crawl out from under him. “Rory! We need to stop and make a condom?—”
Val clamps his hand over my mouth, and I burst into giggles. The look on his face is now up there among my favorites.
“Larinda, come on. You’re not serious.”
“I am. Was your last test negative?”
He glances at the closed door like there might be condom police waiting to intervene. In his defense, he’s been harassed enough on this tour to warrant concern.
“I mean, I haven’t been tested in a while, but I also never really had unprotected sex. I haven’t had any sex in over a year. Not since…”
He quiets with a cringe.
My heart beats a little faster. “Not since what?”
“Since I fell in love with you.”
I’m speechless as his confession sinks in. “You’ve been in love with me for over a year?”
The corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk. “Keeping a secret.”
“Huh?”
“Another thing I’m good at.”
With a quick laugh, I pull him in for a kiss. “Well, I too have not had sex in over a year.”
His brows pinch in surprise. “Really? Not even with Jarvis?”
I scrunch my nose. “Um… So about that… Can you keep a secret?”
“I just told you I can.”
“Right, yeah.” I bite my lip and peek up through a squint. “Jarvis and I never had sex.”
Whew. That felt good to say.
Also, why is Val staring at me like I just told him I was quitting music to be a lumberjack? Does he not believe me? Is he upset I never mentioned it before?
Please don’t be mad.
Several long seconds pass before his forehead collapses to my shoulder.
“Thank god!” he says on an exhale.
I can’t help but grin at his obvious relief. (Mine too.)
“Good news, I take it?”
He lifts his head to meet my eyes. “The best news. Fuck, Larinda. I could never figure it out.”
“Figure what out?”
“All of it! How does he even have sex? Wouldn’t it mess up his hair? Do those ridiculous cutouts participate? Does he take Meyer lemon water breaks? And the belts! Does he have a special ‘fucking’ belt? Are there multiple depending on the position?”
I burst into laughter. He does too, and soon we’re laughing so hard we can’t breathe. My sides hurt as I pull him against me, holding him close as I fall in love over and over again. Gosh, he’s amazing.
“No idea, but thankfully, I’ll never have to find out.”
“So wait. Even when you were together …?”
“Ew. I couldn’t even stand being in the room with him for more than twenty minutes. Do you really think I could have slept with him? It was all for show. We both had others on the side.”
His brows knit as he studies me. Uh-oh. Is he upset at that last confession?
But he doesn’t seem angry or judgmental.
“Do you think he does now?” he asks.
“What do you mean?”
“If you both had others on the side, would he have some now, even while you’re supposedly engaged?”
“Probably,” I say with a shrug. “Honestly, I hadn’t thought about it. I didn’t care until he decided to play this whole ‘blame me for being a cheater’ game. Kind of ironic, no?”
Val doesn’t look amused as something works itself through his head.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.” I don’t believe his tight smile for a second, but I also don’t want to be talking about Jarvis’ sex life right now. I’m way more interested in my own.
“So are you gonna ravage me or not?” I ask, tugging his face—and attention—back to me.
“Ravage?” he says with a smirk.
“I don’t say the F-word and ‘make love’ isn’t enough for what I want.”
His eyes go hot at my confession. “Really… so you’re saying you want me to F-word you?”
“So hard.”
I pull his head down for another deep, hungry kiss. It’s been too long and takes nothing for my body to catch fire again. Val always has that effect on me, but right now it feels like life or death.
I shove my hand in his hair, gripping hard as I provoke his kisses into the aggressive fury I’m craving. His hardness presses between my thighs, and my other hand slides between us to skim over his zipper. He groans into our kiss as I rub him over and over, first through his jeans, then tugging open the button and shoving them down for more access.
“You’re sure about this,” he gasps out as we work our bodies into a frenzy.
“So sure. Please F-word me.”
His smile is both sweet and wicked as he drags his lips along the sensitive skin of my neck, over my collarbone, and down to my exposed breasts. When he circles a nipple with his tongue, I let out a small whimper. It feels so good, and I’ve waited so long. My hands are still in his hair, guiding him, while my body is screaming frantic demands. He draws the hard peak into his mouth, sucking until I’m squirming and arching into the wet heat. Just when I can’t take it anymore, he moves to the other side and resumes the torture.
My skin is on fire. My blood pumps scorching pulses to the apex of my thighs where his hard length drags against my enflamed core over and over again. What part of “F-word me” is he not getting?!
“Val…” I whine.
“What?”
“I want you inside me.”
“Yeah? Good, because I want that too.”
“No, I mean now!”
He lifts his head from my stomach to expose a devilish grin that absolutely kills me.
“Really…” he says in a smug tone.
On any other man, I’d want to smack them. On this one…
“Now, rockstar!”
He chuckles and adjusts to align our bodies. “Okay, okay. Geez.”
I don’t even bother with pleasantries as I yank his head down for another dirty kiss while he works his way inside me. We should have a condom, I guess. Lube, a few more discussions and assurances, but honestly? I’m not scared. Every version of the future I want includes him. In sickness and in health. With babies or without. On a luxury tour bus or a tiny apartment in Manhattan. Anything and everything is on the table. The point is, I’ve never considered unprotected sex with another person, and now that’s all I want with Val. No one was ever worth the risk, until this one who doesn’t even understand he’s wortheverything.
“Blessed,” he whispers as he pushes deep inside me.
“Blessed?”
I moan at the intoxicating sensation when he starts to move. Streaks of fire tear through me and ignite what feels like every cell in my body. I’m so full, so warm and complete. This is what it’s supposed to be. This is the reward for finally making the right choices—my choices.
“Another thing I am,” he says. “So incredibly blessed.”
I tilt my head back to smile up at him. “Ding, ding. And there’s the winning answer! Congrats, you won the game!”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I buck my hips for another electrifying surge. And another. He pushes harder, matching my rhythm until I’m completely lost in a euphoric haze. I’m climbing and floating and reaching, reaching…
“This okay? You’re sure?” he says, his sexy voice hoarse from his own arousal.
So hot.
I twist my fingers in his hair and drag his mouth to mine.
“So sure. Now shut up and F-word me.”