Chapter 6 #2
Ireland jumps a foot in the air at the sound of his voice, her face somehow turning white as a sheet and bright red at the same time.
"I've looked all over this bloody arena for… Oh." Mason pauses a few steps away, glancing between Ireland and me. "Shit. Sorry. I didn't know she was here."
"She was living out her rockstar fantasies," I say, reluctantly releasing her.
His lips twitch with amusement as she scurries several steps away. "Is she any good? Is she coming for your job?"
"She has it in the bag." I place myself between the two of them, annoyed because he's smiling at her. Why the fuck is everyone smiling at her today? "Stop smiling at her."
His smile grows.
Ireland elbows me. "Don't be rude, Crue. And stop lying to him. I'll sink the band inside of a week."
"Promise?" Mason asks, earning a smile from Ireland.
"Great. Now you're smiling at him," I growl, narrowing my eyes on her.
"Yep. It's my mouth; I can smile if I want."
I'm not winning this war.
"You need something, brother?" I ask, giving up before she kicks my ass.
"Yeah. Do you have a minute? I've got something new I want you to hear."
I don't ask if Ireland can come. Mason doesn't let anyone hear what he's working on until it's finished. He's a perfectionist.
Instead, I glance at her, reluctant to let her out of my sight with so many fucking men around here.
"Go," she says. "I'll be fine."
"I'll call Shelby."
"Crue, I'll be fine! I'll just hang out until you're done," she says, looking far too innocent. Which means by the time I get back, she'll have a whole fucking army of men around her. Fuck that.
"I'm calling Shelby."
She rolls her eyes as I pull my phone out of my pocket, but she doesn't argue with me.
* * *
The rest of the day is a study in frustration. By the time Mason is finished with me, our manager shows up to go over some numbers. Apparently, our new album is performing insanely well on streaming platforms. Shelby and Ireland pop in with lunch for us halfway through our meeting with him.
I barely have time to even say hello to my perfect wife before she and Shelby vanish out the door again.
I don't hide the fact that we're married.
We hired our manager this time, not the record label.
He works for us. He's shocked by the news but takes it in stride.
What else is he going to do? It's not like he has a say in what the fuck I do.
We run straight to sound check after our meeting.
"There's an entire army of fans outside the hotel," Shelby informs us as we're taking the stage to ensure everything is good to go. "It's a madhouse."
"Fuck my life," I groan. "How'd they find us?"
"Same as usual, I guess."
I kind of hoped we could ride through Chicago with minimal fuss. Apparently, that isn't in the cards for us.
"Their top floor is secure. You have to have a keycard for one of those rooms to access it. We're booking it out for the rest of the weekend for you guys. Xander will have security posted at the elevators."
"Ireland stays with me," I growl.
"Figured you'd say that. Dani is moving her stuff to your new room." She hands me a keycard and then grins. "Good luck keeping up with her mess. You're going to need it."
"I can handle it." I smile, slipping the keycard into my pocket before jogging onto the stage.
Ireland waves from her seat in the front row.
I shoot her a wink before we huddle up and figure out a game plan for sound check. We decide to run through one of the new songs and take our places. I keep my eyes on Ireland the entire time, crooning the lyrics to her as we sing and dance our way across the stage.
She claps and whistles, dancing along in her seat. When the song ends, she jumps to her feet, cheering loudly.
For the first time in a long time, I realize that I'm proud to be a member of this band.
It may not have been the dream I had when I left Nashville at sixteen for Julliard.
I don't think it was Mason's dream when I met him there, either.
It wasn't Asher or Jax or Jameson's dream when they answered the audition call either.
None of us imagined we'd be thrown together in a boy band.
But what we did mattered then. To us and to the fans. And it matters now, too.
I'm fucking proud of that.
I jump down from the stage, pulling her into my arms.
"Hi, rockstar," she whispers, grinning up at me.
I claim her lips, devouring her like the little treat she is.
The guys whistle and cat-call, but I lift my middle finger in the air, ignoring them. The only thing that matters right now is the woman in my arms and the way she clings to me, kissing me back as if she never wants to stop.
* * *
"Thank you," I murmur when I finally let her up for air.
"If you're thanking me for kissing you, you're very welcome. And also, please do it again soon." She shoots me another impish grin, making me chuckle.
"That's not what I was thanking you for, smart ass." I tuck strands of her wild hair behind her ears, smiling. I swear, I've smiled more since I met her than I've smiled in the last ten years. "Thank you for reminding me that what we do is important. I'd forgotten that."
"Oh. Um, you're welcome. But I don't know how I did that."
"Just by being you, baby. Watching you out there having the time of your life reminded me that what we do matters. It's always been about the music, the fans, and bringing people together. I'm fucking proud of what we've accomplished."
She throws her arms around my neck, hugging me like I just gave her a fucking present.
"I'm proud of you too, Crue. Your music has brought so many people together.
It probably sounds silly to a lot of people for a group of grown women to follow a boy band around the country, but it isn't just about you guys, you know?
We found each other through you, but our friendships have grown beyond that.
This trip is a celebration of our friendship and how it all began as much as it's a crazy adventure about a hot boy band. "
"A hot boy band, huh?"
"Well, I mean, maybe ten years ago," she mumbles. "Before the gray hair set in."
I dig my fingers into her side, making her squeal. "I'm just kidding! You're the hottest old man band ever!"
"That's it." I haul her up over my shoulder, smacking her ass before I plant my hand on it to keep her skirt from rising and exposing her panties to the world.
She screams with laughter, pounding my back to get me to put her down.
I ignore her, stomping toward the steps that lead up the stage while the guys shake their heads, laughing.
"Put me down right now, Crue Blake!"
"Not a chance, Ireland Blake," I say, carrying her backstage. She bounces gently against my shoulder with each step. And then I feel a sharp sting against my ass cheek.
I growl, flipping her upright. "Did you just bite me?"
"Yes," she huffs, shoving her wild hair out of her face. "And I'd do it again, too!"
I back her deep into the corner behind a stack of crates, dragging her legs up around my waist as my dick turns to steel. "Take my cock out, éire. Now."
She gapes at me for a moment and then jumps into action, scrambling to undo my button and zipper. I slip her panties to the side while she works, parting her slit with one finger. She's already burning hot and soaked. I bet she has been all day.
Fucking hell. This is a bad idea. But I don't even care. Let someone catch us. Let them plaster the news all over the goddamn universe. This wild, carefree little goddess is mine.
Her mouth parts on a moan as she delves her hand into my pants, wrapping around my cock. I grunt, pressing my thumb to her clit as she pulls my dick out.
"Grind that hot little pussy all over me," I order her. "Don't stop until you're soaking me just like you did this morning."
"Crue," she whispers.
"Don't pretend you don't want it, Ireland." I press my lips to her ear. "We both know you chose to sing DTF earlier because you were thinking about this very thing."
"I was," she gasps, stroking her fingers up and down my length in a way that has me ready to come all over her perfect hand.
"So take what you want. It's yours." I drag my teeth down the tendon in the side of her neck before attacking her collarbone with my lips and tongue.
She moans softly, lifting slightly to position herself. My cock glides against her wet cunt, pulling a groan from my lips.
Jesus Christ. How does that feel so fucking good? I haven't even been inside her yet, and I'm already addicted to her heat and juicy cunt.
She grips my shoulders, holding tight as she begins to rock against me. My dick glides back and forth between her lower lips, bumping her clit with every pass.
"Fuck." I sink my teeth into the sensitive skin where her shoulder meets her neck, growling. "You feel so fucking good, éire. I can't wait until I'm inside you tonight, and you're screaming my name."
"Crue," she whispers. "We have to stop. Oh my gosh. We have to stop."
"Don't you dare."
"I can't be quiet!" She keeps rocking her hips, unable to stop even as she pleads with me. She's desperate to come. She probably has been since we were on stage earlier. Poor little goddess. She wants this. I see it written all over her face. But she doesn't want to get caught.
So I'll make damn sure we don't. If she has fantasies to fulfill, I'll help her live out every damn one. And I'll do whatever it takes to ensure she gets to do so in a way that feels safe for her.
I need her trust if I'm going to win her heart. And I am going to win her heart. There is no other option.
I slip my hand over her mouth to stifle her cries. "Now, no one will hear you when you're creaming all over my cock, Ireland."
Her pupils flare, relief, desire, and gratitude all mixed up together. Her grip on my shoulders tightens. She rocks faster, in a race to get herself there now that she feels safe.
Soft sounds escape her lips, stifled by my hand. Watching her let go is sexy as hell. She grows bolder, allowing herself to get a little louder. Her green eyes are twin pools, reflecting forever back at me.
I hold her gaze, lifting my free hand to pinch her nipple. She shatters with a cry, her honey dripping all over my cock.
I bury my face in her throat, fighting like hell not to come, too. I intend to wear her when I'm on stage tonight. But next time I come, it'll be deep inside her where I belong. And, if I'm really lucky, it'll be when I'm planting my kid in her.
"Crue," she sighs when I pull my hand away from her mouth, drooping in my arms. "Are you really a virgin?"
I lift my gaze to hers, letting her see the truth for herself.
Her eyes widen as she reads it on my face.
"I was saving myself for my one, too," I murmur, brushing the back of my hand down her cheek. "I found her yesterday, éire."