Текст книги "Sentenced"

Автор книги: L. L. Collins

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Johnny

I had no idea what had gotten into me, but as I held Bex on my lap, feeling her body relax under my touch and kiss, I didn’t want to stop whatever it was. Seeing her like that, panicking and on the verge of losing it had done something to me. I knew what she was feeling. I may not know why, but I knew the feeling nonetheless.

I wouldn’t ask her because I didn’t want to talk about it, either. If she wanted to tell me something, she would. I’d told her there was more to us than just sex. I knew that was right, but it also scared me to death. What the hell did that mean? Her panic had started after I’d said she was being real with me.

Bex didn’t even have to explain why that had made her panic. I already knew. She was putting on a front. The angry, I-don’t-give-a-shit woman that she portrayed to everyone wasn’t her. Now that I knew that, she was upset about it. I saw through her, and it scared her shitless.

“Why?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Her large eyes were wide open like I could see straight through to her soul. As much as she wanted to hide from me, she couldn’t.

“Why what, Bex?” I kept my voice low as to not scare her out of talking to me. What was happening to me right now? The last time I’d sat on a bed with someone like this had been with Jill. The thought of that made my own panic rise up in my chest, but I forced it back. This was not the time. She needed me, and for some strange reason I wanted to be the one there for her.

“Why are you here? Why don’t you run out the door? This is just sex, right? So why do you care about me?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, being transparent with someone for once. “But I do.”

She shook her head as if trying to rid those words from her brain. “You shouldn’t.”

“Why is that?”

“I’m no good. I’ll just make you wish you never met me.”

It was my turn to shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know me,” she whispered. Whatever had happened to her it couldn’t be any harder to swallow than the things I’d done or seen. Not that I was going to offer that information.

“I know you’re a fantastic singer who is about to live her dream going on tour with one of the hugest bands in rock, but you’re also nervous because you’ve wanted this for so long you don’t want anything to screw it up. I also know that you’re sexy, fantastic in bed, and put on a front that you’re bitchy.”

“I am bitchy,” she said.

“I don’t think that’s true. I think you’ve acted that way for so long you don’t even remember that it’s not part of you.”

“So are you saying you aren’t really a dick?”

I laughed. “No, I am a dick.”

She smiled. God I loved when she did that. “I don’t believe you, either. I think you put on a front, too. You have this whole bad boy vibe going on, and you like that people think that about you. It keeps people too intimidated to try to get to know you.”

I tried to form the argument, but the words died on my lips. The urge to flee came just as quickly as I pushed it away. No. I wasn’t leaving.

“I’m not good for you,” I said in response.

“And I’m not good for you,” she said back. We stared at each other for a few moments, both of us lost in the pain of who we were.

“I want to see you,” I said before I could think about the words coming out of my mouth. My heart sped up, and now I really wanted to run. What was I doing?

“You’re seeing me right now. A whole lot of me.” Bex wiggled her eyebrows. I knew what she was doing. I was the master of it.

“I do that, too,” I said. “Deflect. Make a funny or sexual comment to keep people from reading too much into me.”

“What do you want with me, Johnny? I’m not the forever kind of girl.”

“I don’t want a forever girl,” I said. “You’re here just this week. Let’s hang out. Be friends.”

“I’m not a good friend,” Bex argued. “Just ask Beau and Natalie. I’m a bitch on a good day.”

“Bex,” I said. “I don’t have any friends. Any. I’m not sure I even know how to have a friend.”

“So let’s just call this what it is,” she said. “You want to fuck me for the next week until I leave, and I’m totally up for that. Let’s just be honest and not sugar coat it with wanting to be friends.”

I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to me, wrapping my lips over hers. She responded immediately, her tongue caressing mine as my body awoke again. I reached between us and caressed her. “Time to make it eleven?”

She groaned. “I’m going to die.”

“Friends with benefits,” I said against her lips. “Great benefits.”

I strapped the helmet on my head, looking back at Bex’s window. After another round, she’d agreed to see me again. The problem was, I had no idea what that even meant. Obviously sex with her was out of this world, but that wasn’t what I seemed to be asking.

Sighing, I straddled the bike and revved the engine. The sun was just coming up over the horizon. Once again, I hadn’t slept. I was going to Julia’s to sleep like the dead until later. I’d asked Bex if I could watch their rehearsal and she’d agreed. She might’ve only mumbled ‘mmm hmm’ after I’d given her O #9, but she did tell me where they practiced.

I planned on making good use of her rehearsal space later after everyone was gone.

But first, sleep.

I lifted the small compartment on the bike to slide my phone inside it when I saw a folded piece of paper inside. Frowning, I unfolded it. Block handwriting was written across the middle of the page.

I SEE YOU . . . AND HER

I looked around, knowing I wasn’t going to see someone hanging out waving and saying ‘Hey, I wrote the letter.’ Then again, it could’ve been there from the bar last night, since Bex had driven home, and I hadn’t opened the compartment. What the hell kind of message was that? ‘I see you . . . and her?’

I crumpled it up and shoved it back inside, pulling down the road. It was probably some jealous asshole that saw me with her or Stephanie before that. Who the hell knew. What kind of idiot left a note anyway? What was I supposed to do, shake in my boots? If they saw us, they got quite a show. I’m no exhibitionist but hell . . . if you want to watch, that’s your deal.

Stephanie. I’d left the bar without a second glance at her, and she’d probably been looking for me afterwards. Now I felt like a tool. I’d been an asshole because I was just going to use her for the night to get my mind off of Bex. Whatever, she knew nothing was going to go beyond sex anyway.

A small smile played on my lips as I thought of the firecracker I’d spent the night pleasing. Bex acted tough, ‘bitchy’ as she said. And yes, there were times when she was almost unbearable. But when I saw her tonight on the verge of panic and shaking in my arms, I knew there was so much more to her. All of that had come from me saying I liked who she was when she wasn’t trying to be tough. She’d started opening up to me. I may not know what it was, and I may never know, but what I did know was this: she and I were cut from the same cloth.

Sometime since last night (well, this morning) and now, Bex had changed her purple streaks in her hair to red. It was hot. Super hot. I tapped my foot on the floor as I listened to their new song, Not Me. Bex’s guitar was hanging from her. Ryver was the only one playing. She was gripping the microphone, her eyes closed and her lips pursed as the soft lyrics flowed from her lips.

This song was amazing. I loved their range between head-nodding rock and soulfully slow. I’d been sitting here for two hours, not moving, and I could sit here the rest of the night and listen to them. I wondered who wrote all of their songs and made a mental note to ask her later. This one would instantly become a hit. Bex’s gravelly voice singing so low it was almost whispering, the muted sounds of the band behind her, and the words to the song would really resonate with people.

“It’s not me,” Bex sang. “It can’t be. I’m not who you want, who you need . . .” Her eyes opened, and she looked right at me, taking the breath right from my lungs. Was she singing it to me? I felt naked and exposed as she continued to whisper the lyrics in my direction, her eyes never leaving mine.

I didn’t need her. I wanted her for what she fulfilled in me so I could function. Sex with her kept my brain quiet and my body sated.

“I’m broken, I can’t be fixed . . . It’s not me . . .” The chords of the song ended and Bex stared at me for one more long second before turning back to the band. “That was great, guys. Let’s wrap it up for tonight.”

“You fucking rocked that song,” Ryver said, coming up behind Bex and slinging his arm over her shoulder. I tensed, immediately shocked at my reaction. What the hell is your issue, man? Jealousy doesn’t suit you. I forced myself to relax.

She smiled. “Thank you. I think it’ll be a great song for the road.”

Tanner fist bumped her, followed by Beau. It was nice to see her like this; lightened up and happy. She was only this way while playing. I understood that.

Natalie stood up, walking up to them. She’d been sitting beside me the entire time, but we hadn’t spoken. “Fabulous, guys. Let’s take tomorrow off and then practice hard the rest of the week before we leave. I have to go check on the bus and all the scheduling stuff. See you later.”

Bex walked up to me, her guitar still hanging from her. I wasn’t sure which thing I wanted to touch more, her or the guitar. Maybe I could touch her while touching her guitar. “What did you think?”

She cared what I thought? “You guys are going to kick ass out there,” I said.

Bex nodded. “Yeah, we are. Thanks for coming to watch us.”

“It was my pleasure,” I answered. Wow, didn’t we sound like two normal individuals. Too bad that was so far from the case. “So, want to grab a bite to eat with me?”

Bex turned, waving to the guys as they walked out the door. All three of them were eying me. I didn’t blame them. When she turned back to me, the look in her eyes made me instantly hard.

“You want to have dinner and drinks? Really?” Bex walked to the door the band and Natalie had just gone out of and locked it behind them and then walked back to me.

As soon as she got close enough, I pulled her to me, her guitar hitting me in the stomach. “Let’s take this off.” My hands shook as I used the strap to lift it off of her and set it gently on the chair I’d been sitting in. I knew exactly how much these cost, and I wasn’t going to put one single scratch on her baby. “Now that you looked at me like that, Bex, I want to strip those jeans off of you and fuck you right here.”

“That’s kinda what I was hoping for,” she admitted, running her hand down my abs and resting on the button of my jeans.

“You didn’t get enough of me last night?”

She quirked an eyebrow up at me. “Enough? Did you get enough?”

I rubbed against her. “No.”

“Exactly.” Bex laughed. Her small hand undid my button and zipper and yanked my jeans down to my knees in one movement. “Sit down.”

She was bossing me around? I lifted my eyebrow in question. “Do it, Johnny.”

Bex took one step back and lifted up her shirt, tossing it behind her. My eyes zeroed in on her breasts spilling out of the low cut bra she wore. She reached back and unclasped it, letting it drop between us. I still hadn’t moved, but she could ask me to run to the moon and back and I’d do it.

She lifted her hands and cupped her breasts, her eyes boring into mine. She then ran her hands down her body to her jeans, pushing them down her legs and to the floor. She stood in front of me in just a hot pink thong. My dick was threatening to burst out of my underwear if I didn’t let him free soon.

“Fuck,” I hissed.

Bex stepped closer to me, brushing her nipples against my chest. My dick throbbed, begging for her touch. She took her hands and pushed my boxers down, springing me free. “Sit,” she demanded again. I wanted to grab her and put her over the back of that chair and tell her who was boss. But I couldn’t, so I sat instead.

“That’s a good boy,” she said. I watched as she approached. The small guitar dangling from her belly button piercing glinted in the overhead lights. The tattoo that I wanted to ask about wasn’t fully covered by her underwear. I wanted to tear those things off of her so I could taste her. There was nothing like tasting her goodness.

Bex dropped to her knees in front of the chair, lifting her eyes to look at my reaction. Oh yeah, she had my attention. “You always like to be in control, don’t you,” she said, her breath so close it was tickling the tip of my dick. Fuck yes. I want to grab your head and fill your mouth with me.

“In all things,” I forced myself to say.

She nodded in understanding. “Not this time. You’re in my territory.” I wanted to say that we’d been in her territory last night when I’d had her on all fours holding onto the bed, when I’d made her close her eyes the whole time I licked her from head to toe . . . but my brain cells weren’t firing correctly.

My leg muscles quivered at the anticipation of her. Never had I let—or even wanted—a woman to be like this with me. To suck me? Absolutely. On my terms and in my own way. Bex was unraveling what I wanted and needed. I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

She lifted up and traced the outlines of the tattoos on my chest and arms, moving her fingers down my abs until she reached the words below my waist. “So fucking sexy,” she murmured, purposely not touching my rock hard shaft. “I want to know what all of these mean.”

I want to know what yours mean, too. The words wouldn’t form. She was close, so very close. I gripped the cheap vinyl of the chair as she lowered her mouth over my hot skin. I tried hard not to pump into her mouth, but some urges just can’t be stopped, so I did it anyway. She took it, allowing me to reach all the way to the back of her throat. I twined my fingers into her long hair, tilting my head so I could watch her mouth go up and down on my shaft.

“Bex.” That one syllable sounded like three as I drew it out, feeling the familiar tightening coming quickly. I wanted control back. I lifted her head gently, her eyes questioning as I took her by the shoulders and stood her up. She was as light as a feather.

I reached my hand between her legs, moving the scrap of lace she still wore to the side. “You like my cock in your mouth, don’t you?” Bex nodded, her eyes rolling back in her head as I got to work inside her with two fingers. “Oh yeah, you like that, too. So dripping wet for me. The whole time I was watching you practice I pictured this, right here. This sweet pussy dripping for me, bending you over and taking you so hard you’d see stars.”

“Yes,” Bex moaned. “Do it. Now.”

I didn’t even need to move the scrap of lace. I was going to take her with them still on. “Go lean over the back of the couch and close your eyes.”

She took my hand from inside her and lifted it to her lips, sucking my fingers one by one. It might be the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen. “You like tasting yourself, naughty girl? Oh, the things I want to do to your dirty self.”

She smirked, strutting across the room to the futon that was one of the very few pieces of furniture in this space. She did as I asked, leaning over so her perfect ass was sticking out and her head was facing the other way.

“Your eyes closed?” I stroked my rock hard shaft as I made my way towards her. I couldn’t wait to be buried to the hilt inside of her.

“Mmm hmmm,” she said. “When are you going to come put your big dick inside me, Johnny boy?”

“Oh don’t you worry, you’ll know the second I get there,” I said, stopping to take a good look at her rounded ass. God, it was perfect. I traced my finger along the tattoo of angel wings she had on her back. There was a date and letters along the bottom, but hell if I was going to ask right now.

Goosebumps broke out over her skin as my fingertips ran down her body. “Tell me what you want.”

She wriggled. “I want you to fuck me, Johnny.”

“How hard?”

“Please. Hard. Really hard.”

I moved the scrap of lace away from her and rubbed my tip against her ass and then to her slick entrance. “Ohh yeah, baby.” She tensed. Shit. I had to stop saying that. It was a trigger for her. “Bex, that’s gonna feel so good isn’t it?” I felt her relax instantly at my change of words.

“Yes,” Bex breathed. “Do it. Now.”

As much fun as it was to hear her beg, I couldn’t wait one more second. Sliding into her, we both groaned in relief. I held onto her hips as I pounded into her, the bumping sounds of the futon moving slightly across the floor the only sound other than our rapid breathing.

“So fucking beautiful,” I murmured, my hand roaming her ass before I leaned over and cupped one of her breasts. Her hand moved down her flat stomach, and I felt it wrap around my pulsing cock as I went in and out of her heat. I could feel her rubbing herself back and forth while her fingers felt me moving in and out.

“You like feeling me in you? Does that turn you on?”

“Yes,” she groaned. “Give it to me, Johnny. I want more.”

I withdrew, turning her and laying her down on the futon. Hovering over her, I took in everything about her all at once: her cheeks were flushed, her lips pursed and her breath was coming out in puffs. She was reaching for me, her need primal.

I slid back in, lifting her hips so she was tilted more. Leaning over her, I caged my arms around her as she wrapped her legs around my torso. Her eyes were looking directly into mine. I lowered my mouth to hers, fusing them together. Bex was arching her back and gripping me with her nails as we continued kissing, her moans muffled.

I tilted my face, kissing her deeper. She was now scratching her nails down the skin on my back, pulling me closer to her. She started tightening around me and I knew we were both ready. I pushed into her hard a few more times. Bex arched her back and broke my kiss, crying out as I emptied into her, and she pulsed around me.

“FUCK, Johnny! Yes! Harder!”

This girl was a freak in the sack, and I loved it.

“Who writes your songs?” Bex and I were sitting cross-legged, facing each other on the futon we’d had mind-blowing sex on just a few minutes ago. I’d slipped my jeans back on and so had she, but she was wearing just a bra on the top. She could’ve done without that, in my opinion.

Her eyes widened just enough for me to notice and she looked away, her gaze fixed on an imaginary spot on the wall.

“Are we not talking?”

She looked back at me. “I do.”

“You write all of them?” My heart pounded in my chest. I’d had a suspicion that she at least had something to do with their songs.

Bex nodded so slightly I almost missed it. She seemed embarrassed.

“Why don’t you want to tell me that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t like talking about myself.”

I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t dare. I knew that would be a deal breaker. I thought this girl was me in the female form. “I don’t like talking about myself either, but if we’re going to be friends, friends share, right?”

Bex smirked. “I don’t think friends do what we did on this futon.” A slight blush crept into her cheeks as she thought about it.

I lost myself in thoughts of how she tasted and felt for just a moment. “Friends with benefits, right?”

“Right,” she laughed.

“I don’t need you to tell me all your secrets, Bex. I’m just trying to get to know you a little.” I was shocked to realize how much I did want to know about her and what made her tick.

She blew out a breath. “I’ve written most of our songs. Beau has helped on some, and Ryver has had some input on some, too. Most of the ideas come from me.”

“I write songs,” I heard myself saying. Panic made my chest tighten the second the words were out. Why the hell did I just tell her that?

She scooted closer to me. “You do?”

Shit. This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. “I—uh, it’s a long story. Yes.”

“Do you play?”

I stood, crossing my arms in front of my chest and turning away from her. It was a simple question but not a simple answer.

I felt her come up behind me and wrap her arms around my bare torso. She rested her head against my back. “Johnny? Friends, right?” I nodded. “Do you play?”

It was better not to look at her when I answered. “I did.”

“But you don’t anymore?”

I shook my head. “I can’t.”

Bex was quiet, her arms still around my waist and her face pressed into my back. “Want to try?”

“No.” My answer was immediate.

“Okay. How long have you written songs?”

“Since I knew that writing songs existed.” It was better to talk to her while I was facing away from her. I couldn’t try to read her face at what I said.

“Wow,” she whispered. “Do you have them all?”

I cringed, immediately going back to the large bonfire of notebooks full of songs that had been my ‘punishment’ once for not wanting to do what they said. “No.”

Her hands began caressing my abs, but not in a sexual way. It felt . . . comforting. I tensed at first but then forced myself to relax when I realized I liked it. It was oddly . . . satisfying. “Will you turn back and look at me?”

“It’s easier this way,” I admitted.

I felt her nod her head. “I get that.”

“When did you start playing?”

Bex tensed. Seemed I hit a nerve, too. I put my hands over hers, her face still pressed to my back. “My dad taught me when I was very young.” The words she spoke didn’t sound painful, but there was something there.

“He was obviously very talented.”

She nodded again. “He was. He’d been in a band since he was a kid and had made it somewhat popular in our area.” I noticed she talked about him in the past tense, but I wasn’t going to ask.

“He played rock?”

“Yes.”

I turned so I could face her again. “We can do this.”

She tilted her face to look at me. “Do what?”

“Get to know each other. Look at it each other while we do it.”

Bex looked away and then settled her eyes back on me. “I’ve never told anyone about my dad,” she whispered.

Shock coursed through my body. “I haven’t told anyone anything in a long time.”

It was awkward, standing here in the middle of the bare studio, but I didn’t dare ask to change venues. If I did, she might realize she was talking to me (well hell, I was talking to her, too), and call it a night. Though I knew both of us were probably exhausted, I was shocked to realize that I did want to talk to her and have her talk to me.

I led her back to the futon and laid down, tucking her next to me. She rested her head on my chest. Her hair tickled my arm and neck, but it was heaven. She fit perfectly next to me, like she belonged there.

Like she belonged there.

What the hell was happening to me? I didn’t do this.

You’re just friends. You just want to get to know her.

Even as I thought it, I knew I was full of shit.