For Love or Money (16 page)

It
doesn't come close to the best blow job I’ve ever had, but there is something
different about it. Something private and sensual.

I
lift her up, kissing her wet mouth and sliding my fingers between her pussy
lips as the shower rains down on us. She moans into the kiss as I start to
circle her clit. It’s erect and ready for attention, but she isn’t in the mood
for foreplay. She wraps her arms around my neck and steps onto the small corner
seat, wrapping her legs around me, climbing me like a tree.

Our
kissing is still just as intense as I lower her close to my cock, feeling
around with the head for the right spot. She whimpers as I give a slight
thrust, ensuring I am ball deep in her before I start to move in and out.

Her
breath against the side of my face is sporadic and gasped as she reaches up,
grabbing the door to the shower. With her other hand she grabs the edge on the
other side and digs her toes into the wall behind me, making for a perfect
shower-fuck angle.

I
move us a little from the water spray so it doesn't wash away the lube we have
naturally. It dawns on me then I’m bare back, but I can’t stop. She’s circling
her hips and licking my neck. I grip her ass cheeks and pump wildly, truly
enjoying the experience of my cock being bare.

But
she freezes up, shaking her head. “There are condoms in the top drawer.” It’s
like she read my mind.

I
pull out, leaving her gripping to the shower like a spider monkey and grab a
condom from the drawer. When it’s down over my shaft and snug, I turn the water
off and lift her up, carrying her to the couch.

She
doesn't argue but pushes me onto the couch to lie and climbs on top. She swings
her legs and climbs on reverse cowgirl, slowly lowering her wet pussy lips over
my aching cock. I want to fuck her so badly.

When
she’s in my lap and gripping to me, I grab her ass and hips and start to move
her, grinding against her as I work her pussy over me.

She’s
moaning, leaning forward and gripping to my thighs.

I
can’t take it anymore, the strain of wanting to fuck her is overwhelming, but
she controls the speed. She leans forward and I slam her back down on my cock,
thrusting harder and harder. She wants to take it slow, I can feel it but my
ache for her is too intense. Her soft skin combined with the smell of her is
driving me wild. I reach up in front, cupping her breasts and rolling the
nipples in my fingers, wanting so bad to bite them.

Finally,
she lets me control the thrust, making her ass bounce off my hips and abdomen.

I
lick up her back, wishing she were facing me so I could suck her nipples but
her bouncing ass is more than I can take. My fingers lower to her hips, digging
in and gripping to her, using her pussy to work my shaft.

I’m
aching to explode but I don't want it to end. She stops and spins around,
dangling her erect nipples in my face as she lowers herself onto my cock again.

She
leans back but I need to suck her perfect pink nipples. So I grip her ass, scooping
her into me and pressing her chest into my face. The first suck of her nipple
sends a shiver up her body. She shudders and moans into my hair.

I
roll the other nipple and flick the one I’m sucking, sending her over the edge.
She rides me like she IS trying to save a horse. She latches around my shaft as
she convulses, coming all over me and bursting with wetness. I can’t take the
slippery state of her tight pussy so I let it fly, pumping and thrusting to my
heart’s content until I fill the condom, wishing it was her I was filling.

She
collapses on me as I jerk the last of my load into the condom. She shakes her
head. “I think you have a one-track mind, cowboy.”

I
nod, still twitchy from the most rocking orgasm I’ve had in a while.

“Want
to try that shower again?”

I
nod again, not ready to talk about the fact she was sad and I can’t focus on
anything but fucking her.

She’s
trying to be a good girl, and I just want to make her my bad girl, emphasis on
MY.

There
is a lingering regret that tells me I might not be as good for her as I want to
be.

STDs
and Rehearsals

Lana

I
look at the paper and sigh. It’s nerve wracking every time, but I always feel
better after it’s over.

James
kisses my cheek. “You sang that beautifully.”

I’m
shaking, not because he is kissing me in front of anyone, but because there are
seven people in the room with us who have just heard me singing. My palms are
burning and my breath is short, and no matter how hard I try, I just don’t seem
to be able to get enough air.

Leo
and his new flame, Jake—the guy from the party, who he is completely out
of the closet with, both smile at me like adoring parents watching their child
at dance class. I wave at Jake. I like him.

Nick
pulls a duet sheet and gives Leo a nod. “Me and Leo were going over this all
night when we went to visit Weaver, Googling the biggest successes for bands.
Duets make performers connect the best with a crowd.”

I
turn and look at Leo, not sure which part stuns me more. He went and saw Weaver
or he is taking such an interest in the band. He’s been the one giving us
advice all week long and he hasn’t missed a single practice. It’s weird and
cool all at once. He shrugs. “It’s true. On live shows, like this one, a
guy and girl together do the best. Loving eyes staring at each other and voices
rocking it to the heavens. The TV cameras really pick up the glossy stare you
have and the sexual chemistry.”

I
could choke them both. Singing backup for James is one thing, “Islands In The
Stream” is totally another. Just being on a stage makes me gag. I shake my
head. “I don’t want to do some cheesy shit duet. I have to live with this for
the rest of my life. Singing ‘I Got You Babe’ on a stage in front of millions
of people is not my idea of a memorable evening. Whatever we do is loading
instantly on iTunes and YouTube. I have enough drama in the media to deal with,
I don’t need to add shitty duet to the list that will include me freezing up on
stage and maybe even getting sick.”

“You
both are amazing singers. So let’s cut the crap, Lana.” Leo laughs. “Is this
really going to be a big deal or are you just going to give it a chance? You
want to win, right? You want to conquer your fear, right?”

I
bite my lip, thinking about the weeks of rehearsals we have under our belt. I
do want to win, and I do want to be done being afraid of something so
irrational, not to mention, I haven’t felt this good ever. We sound like a
seasoned, badass band. I don’t want to kill the vibe we have going and I’m
sleeping better and eating better. Este has made me go jogging twice, which has
so far sucked ass, but she says it will make performing easier. I still get
winded when I sing. If I give up now I could end up back where I was. Or I can
see this as the fork in the road it is and pursue the stupid dream. Just let
myself care about something again.

Glancing
around the room, I realize it’s all in my head. I can perform in front of ten
people. I did it yesterday. I managed to perform in front of seven plus the
band today. I don’t even count Leo or Mr. Sherman as part of the crowd anymore.

“Lana!”

My
eyes drift to James. He’s talking but my mind is wrapped up in its argument. I
can’t let my stage fright kill it all for everyone else.

I
don’t want to.

I
want this to be the greatest moment ever. I want to look back and say this was
the summer I turned it all around.

“Earth
to Lana,” Leo says but James looks worried. I take a huge breath and the
booklet from Leo, seeing the songs. As I turn each page, the selection gets scarier.
When I see the song from Dirty Dancing I cringe, but James turns the page. “I
was thinking this one.”

Jordin
Sparks and Chris Brown. I contemplate it and shake my head. “That’s a pretty
big diva song. I don’t know if my vocals can carry ‘No Air.’ She’s badass.”

Leo
stands, tucking a pencil behind his ear and bringing me an iPad. “We saw it
more like this. Let him be the diva and you be soft, like a Julia Stone or the
chick from Civil Wars. That’s more your sound. Like an acoustic version,
instead of divalicious.” He plays a video of Nick playing the keyboard and
singing softly, very indie sounding. Weaver is in the video. It makes me smile,
wondering if Weaver thinks it’s crazy waking up to the world looking like this
suddenly.

I
pick up James’ guitar, making them all grin. James cocks an eyebrow. “Guitar
too?”

“Yeah,
and I can play piano. Violin was just always my favorite.”

He
looks stunned, but I don’t want to talk about it.

“I
took lessons.” I roll my eyes and start to pluck the cords from the page,
letting my fingers adjust to the mellower tune of the song with the guitar.
James and Simon start singing, bringing a smile to everyone’s lips. Simon does
Jordin Sparks’ part perfectly, bringing his voice up like hers.

If
he were a little smugger, winking at the ladies in the crowd, he’d be set.

I
need to get him laid. The virtuous vibe coming off of him is intense. He’s
still friggin’ star struck by James. It’s almost enough to make a girl sick.

James
is swoon worthy, just not enough for someone to worship. Not with his
fifty-eight notches.

He
gives me a sideways look as he lets his voice own the Chris Brown part of the
song. It gives me chills.

Fuck
it! He is someone you could worship.

How
the hell can one person be so perfect?

It’s
intimidating and overwhelming, and deep down my brain shakes its head and
spouts off doubts. Rachel’s words of wisdom swirl through my head as my fingers
tickle the strings, making the guitar come to life. The other week when I
talked to her on the phone about the whole thing, she told me she dated a guy
like James once. They burned so hot they burned each other out. He emotionally
exhausted her and drained her of everything she had worked so hard to build up.
Her confidence depended on his approval. Her body craved his touch. Her heart
beat because his did.

She
stopped being an individual.

She
asked me if that was the case and I couldn’t answer. I did have an answer but
it wasn’t a good one. I fear her past is my truth too, but I also fear him not
being there to make me feel everything I do when he’s with me.

I’m
on this proverbial stage because he is here with me, like a blanky I need to
fight off the demons.

We
finish the song to the outburst of cheering from the guests Mr. Sherman has
invited to observe and make my stage fright go away one day at a time.

This
is our last time playing at Harvard. The show is being announced tomorrow and
we are leaving for LA in the morning.

I’m
excited to be back home in a small way, but at the same time, I’m scared of who
I will be there. I’m scared that I’m not ready to lead this group of people. I
haven’t done it here. Leo has.

I
cock an eyebrow and give him a look. He makes a weird face, trying to make me
laugh but I don’t. I have an idea and it’s going to consume me until I speak it
aloud.

I
pass the guitar to James and walk to where Leo is sitting. “Want to take a walk
with me?”

He
gets up, winking at Jake. “Be right back.”

We
walk out into the hall and it slips from my lips without warning. “I think we
should enter the contest with you as the applicant.”

He
stops walking. “What?”

I
nod. “You are better at it than I am. I love music. Love it. I always have. But
that makes me a musician, not a music exec.”

His
jaw drops. “You serious?”

“Yeah.
I don’t think I can do it. I’m going to fly home tonight—right now
actually, and talk to my dad. I know he’s going to hate me and be pissed, but
I’m backing out. I’m putting your name in there. I’m going to conquer this
thing that has controlled me forever and be a musician because I love it.”

He
looks shocked, maybe not in a good way. He swallows and shakes his head. “This
is your dream. Music mogul of the year.”

My
eyes are stuck open, staring at his. “My dream was to make my dad not hate me. If
I can explain to him that I can’t be that girl he wants me to be, because I
genuinely am not that girl, he might love me for the girl I am.”

“I’m
honored you would think to ask me, but I can’t. My dad is going to get over his
hissy fit and forgive me.”

I
shake my head, cupping his face and making him see my sincerity. “No, he isn’t.
Your dad is an idiot and your mom is weak. But I say screw them. Because this
is you. You are ten steps ahead of the game as a music producer and executive.
You are savvier than anyone I know. This is your chance to make something
amazing of yourself without your parents’ interference.”

“I’ll
try it out but I’m not making promises.” He leans in, kissing my forehead. His
lips tremble against my face. “Go. I’ll tell the guys you have to take off.”

I
glance back at the door, contemplating talking to James before I go. I would be
pissed if he just left, even if we aren’t actually dating. I hate that we don’t
know what we are. “Can you just ask James to come out here?”

He
hugs me and walks back inside, and like they’re playing musical doors, James
comes strolling out into the hall. He smiles until he sees my face. “You okay?”

I
shake my head. “I need to go home.”

“We’re
going tomorrow.”

“I
need to go ahead and see my dad, privately.”

He
nods. “I can see if one of the flight attendants wants to take your place
tomorrow in my plans for the mile-high club, no biggie.”

“Whatever.”
I roll my eyes.

He
pulls me into him, kissing my cheek. “I’ll see you in LA then, at the party?”

“Yeah.”

His
brow furrows. “What’s going on?”

I
close my eyes. “I just want to go into this like a band and not a couple. I
don’t want to just fall into this and not be able to get back out when the
summer is over and the band moves on. You want to get your MBA and I want to
figure myself out before I waste anymore time pretending to not care.”

“You
breaking up with me before we even start dating?” His accent gets thick.

The
way he says it makes me frown. “I guess I am. I just want this to be about the
show and the music and all of us as a group. I don’t want my dad to think we’re
having sex and again somehow I used my libido to get me something or somewhere.
I want him to see that I’m serious about—everything.”

He
nods, kissing my cheek. “Okay. When you’re ready for this to be more, then it
will be. Until then, I’m just your partner in crime. I can be your friend,
Lana. I have been trying to be that too.”

God,
he really is perfect.

A
terrible feeling like I might be blowing it rolls through me.

He
presses his lips into my cheek again as Simon comes out. “See you in LA, Lana.”
He waves.

I
wave back, whispering to James. “Get him and Brandon laid, hard. Go tonight and
get them drunk and sexed up. They won’t last a day in LA like this.”

He
chuckles into my cheek. “Roger that. Have a safe trip and text me.” He steps
back and I turn away, feeling the strangest sensation, like I want to run. I
want to get home.

“Hey,
Lana!”

I
turn to see James still standing there, smiling at me with that goofy smile he
gets sometimes. “Yeah?”

“You
ever hear that saying that sometimes things that start big end big?”

I
scowl and nod, still walking backward but slower.

His
grin gets wider. “This didn’t start like that so I don’t think it’ll end like
that. It just started with a kiss. Everything else came after, but the start
was just one simple kiss. So I reckon that means it’s building big and strong
and able to survive anything.”

He
makes me smile. I shake my head teasingly. “Did you just say reckon?”

A
chuckle slips from his lips again. “I reckon I might have.”

“Well,
I reckon you better keep that cowboy charm to yourself until I see you in LA or
I reckon you might get into some trouble.”

He
nods, almost bowing slightly. “Yes, Mistress Lana.”

I
laugh aloud and turn, shaking my head and wishing I could choose the things he
makes seem little instead of it always being everything

Este
drops me off at the airport, hugging me tightly on the sidewalk outside the
drop-off zone. “See you soon!”

I
nod. “I’ll send those tickets to the finale. Even if we don’t make it, we’ll be
at the show. So if I’m not playing, I’ll be hanging in the audience.”

She
waves a hand dismissively. “You guys have this in the bag.” She watched us
yesterday. She was stunned. That gives me hope. She thinks I’m the perviest of
the pervs. If she can change her mind on me, everyone in America can.

The
flight feels like it takes forever. My stopover in Denver is like pulling
teeth. I am dying to see him when I get to the house.