Chapter 5
Chapter five
The boys do exactly what they were told.
Flirt with her friend, maintain control over the situation, and eventually leave me alone with the woman I just canceled a VIP experience for.
My eyes roam her body freely, taking in every detail as my obsession grows.
Sure, I’ve hooked up with fans before. I’m Cas fucking Wilder.
I do what I want, when I want, how I want.
But there’s something about her that just feels different—like this one time won’t be enough.
I already crave more of her after ten minutes alone.
Her presence makes me reckless. Weak. Impulsive.
I refunded tickets and cancelled an experience on the opening night of the tour.
There’s absolutely no doubt in my mind.. .I’m thinking with my dick.
My drummer, Braxton, catches my eye, stands to leave, and tugs Roxy along with him. “How about we go back to the hotel?” he suggests. “We can bring Shawn with us. He can keep you warm on the drive over.”
Her friend giggles, and the two exchange a flurry of whispers before she flashes Vivienne a wink and walks away with Braxton and Shawn. We sit in silence for a few minutes, until I’m sure everyone else has gone.
Looking over at her, I lean back into the couch. “That’s better. Now I have you all to myself.”
She looks at me, stunned.
“What’s wrong, Vivienne? You look surprised?”
“I don’t understand.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“What is there to understand? I wanted to see you again, so I made it happen. Do you want to leave?” I ask, giving her an out.
“No,” she answers, but I can hear the faint tremble in her voice.
This girl needs to relax. She’s much more uncomfortable now that she’s figured out who I really am.
I dig around in my jean pocket for a lighter so I can light the joint I have tucked behind my ear.
When I can’t find it, I shrug. All the more reason to invite her back to the bus.
Unlike the rest of the crew, I have my own personal tour bus.
“Well, I just realized I don’t have a lighter. Do you want to see my home away from home?” I ask.
“Does that line usually work on the girls you kidnap backstage?” she answers, surprising me.
“Hard to say. When I kidnap them, I don’t usually give options.” I cross my arms over my chest. If she wants to get kinky, I have no problem with it.
“Valid.” She shrugs.
“So,” I cock my head to one side and give her my best rockstar smolder, “are you coming or not?” I hope she’ll be coming on my dick in a few hours. Shit. I’d even settle for her coming on my fingers.
“Fuck it,” she shrugs, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Yeah, fuck it,” I repeat enthusiastically.
“It’s my motto for the night, and honestly, I like where it’s gotten me so far.”
I lead her into the private lot where my tour bus is parked, whipping out my phone to send Brian a voice note. “Hey Brian, thanks for canceling everything. I’m heading back to the hotel in the bus. Let the driver know.”
“You didn’t say anything about going to a hotel.” Vivienne stops walking, suddenly unsure.
“Would you rather do something else? I just figured we could smoke this joint and enjoy a drive through downtown. We need the bus at the hotel so the crew can load up tomorrow and hit the road again.”
“Wow! You leave already?” she gasps, disappointment in her tone.
“Yeah, it’s kinda crazy how fast we move, but it’s a tight schedule, which allows us to squeeze in more stops,” I answer truthfully, allowing my mask of control to slip for a moment.
She hesitates before taking a step forward and following me to the bus. I text the driver and ask him to drive around downtown for thirty minutes, then head over to the hotel.
“So, do you always cancel your meet-and-greets to give random girls a ride on your bus?”
My lips tug up in a grin. I want to tell her I only do that for girls who ride my dick, but I bite my tongue. I like her. She’s spicy. Running a hand through my hair, I rasp, “No. Only the really pretty ones.”
Vivienne laughs nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You think I’m pretty?”
I confidently reply, “I think you’re fucking gorgeous.”
“Or you’re just saying that because you want to get fucked. You know, rockstar vibes and all.” Vivienne waves her hand in my direction.
I smirk. “Is that what you think? Because I’m pretty sure I could walk back inside and ask who wants to crawl in bed with me, and there’d be a damn line—probably down the sidewalk—of girls waiting.”
“So you are an asshole,” she quips dryly.
“I’m not an asshole. I’m a proprietor of opportunity. Enjoying the perks of my career choice does not make me an asshole.” I key the code into the door and open it for her.
She stares me down for a minute, as if deciding whether or not she actually is about to go through with this.
“Look, I’ll let you leave the minute you want to.
I just need a place to smoke this.” I wave the joint in the air between us, then step inside, waiting for her to follow me.
There are a few lights left on, which make the space feel cozy.
I point to a sitting area with a couch and a small table. “Grab a spot.”
She sits on the edge of the gray suede couch, crossing her legs. Very proper. Very demure. But she’s not fooling me. Vivienne’s already told me loud and clear she’s down to fuck, whether she realizes it yet or not.
I snag a lighter and a burnt-out, empty candle jar to ash in from the kitchen countertop, then return to sit next to her. Lighting the joint, I take a few quick puffs to get it burning evenly, then suck in a long drag.
Coughing, I pass it to her, but she waves me off. “My ex smoked. I don’t smoke.”
Fuck. She’s bringing ex talk to this smash-up. I’ve gotta turn this around and fast. “But we’ve already established I’m better looking than that guy. Maybe it’s not the weed that’s the problem. Have you ever considered that he was?”
She laughs. “I know he was part of the problem. It’s just—“ her voice trails off into silence.
“Is it because you’ve never smoked before? It’s not a big deal. But if you want to try it, I’d be more than willing to hold your hand.” I scoot closer to her.
She looks up, pinning me with those big brown eyes of hers, and fuck me, if she’s not the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.
“No,” she breathes, interrupting my thoughts.
“I’ve smoked one other time. When Roxy and I were packing his shit up, we found my ex’s weed stash and sold all of it except for one joint.
When he came to get his stuff and demanded his stash, Roxy held it up, lit it, and told him it’s all that was left.
She threatened to call the cops if he came back to my place again, and he left pissed.
Then we sat on the front porch and smoked it together.
” She shrugs casually, as if her story is no big deal.
I laugh hard. “Man, that’s fucking epic. I guess the moral of the story is not to mess with you, or your friend will definitely hand my ass to me on a platter.”
“Oh, don’t think I can’t take care of myself, sir. Right before I broke up with him, I hid a tracker on him, showed up to crash his date, and threw a mojito on him—loaded with extra mint,” she says smugly, as if it should terrify me.
“But why the extra mint?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Because, according to people on the internet—like a lot of people—it sticks to your face and is really hard to get off.”
“Well did it? Stick to his face, I mean?” Amusement dances in my eyes as I wait for her answer.
She’s got spunk. It’s fresh. I like this whole don’t-fuck-with-me vibe she has going on. I take another long drag, already feeling more relaxed.
“Of course,” Vivienne snickers. “That was the best part.”
“Well then, since you’ve smoked before, what makes you not want to do it again?” I press, knowing it will help her relax.
“I don’t know. There’s really not a reason. I guess I don’t actually remember what happened that night, and if I’m spending the night with you, then I’d kinda like to remember it.” Her confession lands hard.
My dick picks up on it instantly, hardening in my pants. I’m not a good guy. I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. She’s not stupid. She knows exactly the kind of flame she’s playing with.
Cool, calm, and collected, I grip her under the chin. “I think the problem is it was a bit too much for your first time. If you want, I can blow it in your mouth, and then you can decide how you feel.”
Her eyes flick anywhere but mine. I can tell she’s struggling to decide. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine too,” I shrug. “I think it might help you relax. You seem more uncomfortable than earlier in the hallway.”
She swallows hard. I can feel her throat work against my fingers as she does. Vivienne nods her head. “Okay. You can blow it in my mouth.”
Victorious, I take a long drag, inhaling deep, then raise my eyebrows at her playfully.
She opens her mouth awkwardly as I lean in close, then slowly, with a measured release, I exhale into her mouth.
Before I pull back, I let my lips touch hers.
Just a brush laced with a teasing temptation of more to come.
She shivers, and like a champ, she doesn’t cough.
I ash the joint and bring it back to my lips, pulling it between them, savoring the way I can taste her.
Instantly, I crave more. I stare at her in a calm and collected shock as the bus simultaneously gives a lurch, pulling slowly out of the parking lot.