Rock Me Deep (21 page)

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Authors: Nora Flite

BOOK: Rock Me Deep
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Against my temple, he groaned. He had my hips in a vice grip, keeping me still as he kept sliding in. It took forever; I existed in an eternity with the man who seemed keen to rip me apart.

With a long sigh, he sank in to the root of his dick. My eyes snapped open, confused.
Where was the pain? Shouldn't that have hurt?
It wasn't a peaceful moment to wonder. Drezden was withdrawing, taking my sanity with him.

The ridge of his cock-head came to the edge of my pussy. In a deliberately slow thrust, he sank back in. The pattern started that way, calm and collected. Each pump of his hips drove Drezden further to the brink; I heard it in his breathing.

“You're so tight,” he gasped. It was amazing I heard him at all, I was sinking in a sea of warmth and cotton. Everything he did felt astounding. Why the hell had I fought him off?

Waiting was a mistake.

Two days wasted. I could have just kissed him from the onset and begun this wonderfully insane ride.
I'd chided Drezden over two days being plenty of time, but now, I was a hypocrite—I wanted more.

He swelled inside of me, his length pulsing. Slamming into me faster, Drezden held me down like I would try to escape.
Doesn't he know by now?
I wondered.
I'm stuck.
He was everything I wanted, a creature made up from the songs he sang. Songs that had healed me.

In the black, you walk with me...

Yes. I'd walked with him in my head for years. He was a voice that rang with understanding. Someone who seemed to get what it meant to suffer and fight and be alone.

But I wasn't alone... not right now.

I'll walk in the black with him, if he'll let me.

Our cries were melting together. We rocked our bodies and surged with mounting passion. I wanted him, wanted him so much, and nothing would take that away. I could have whatever I wanted... that was the dream, right?

I was a rock star.

Nothing could stop me.

There was a tide of pleasure growing in me. I let it dash me on the rocks, I didn't try to fight as a second orgasm approached. He was insistent in his pace, driving rough and fast without a hint of slowing. We were in sync, my hips meeting his with constant liquid-sounding contact.

"Come for me," he demanded in my ear. "I need to feel your pussy milking me."

That was it, I was done. "Drezden! I'm—ah!" Trembling, I shut my eyes and endured the hot flash of delight. My muscles tensed and released, toes cramping as I came.

With a throttled snarl, Drezden buried his face in my neck and climaxed, too. He was quaking in me, stirring me up while he filled the condom. A part of me felt denied, as if his seed belonged to me, not some rubber tube.

This wasn't a true silence. Our breathing had merged, raspy and wet. He laid on me fully, the flutter of his heart knocking on my ribs. For some time, we just stayed like that. I didn't know who moved first, only that we disengaged with mutual winces.

Sitting back, Drezden sat on the bed. He was quick to unroll the condom; precise.

He didn't ask me if it was my first time.
But how could he even guess?

My eyes ate him up, watching him toss the condom in the trash. He still wore his shirt. I felt a little... robbed. Why had he refused to take it off?

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern warming his emerald eyes.

Sitting up, I searched for my clothes. “I'm fine, just stunned, I guess.”

Moving close, he stopped me from getting changed. Pushing me back on the blankets, he kissed me so long I went dizzy. “Lola, you're—fuck. You were amazing.”

"Yeah?" Blushing, I snuggled closer to him. I couldn't tell him that he was my first. Maybe he didn't need to know, why would it matter?

The mattress springs squeaked when he settled next to me. Gently, he urged me up onto the pillows so we were both more comfortable. I didn't struggle, I was happy to let him pull me against his body.

Drez was a wall of scorching heat. His cock was still mostly hard, thudding against my ass cheek as we spooned. But if I expected him to go for round two, I was wrong; the strain of the long day was taking its toll. Drezden yawned, his breathing transforming into the gentle sway of sleep.

I stayed there in his arms, my joy shifting into discomfort. The light was still on, the glow impossible to ignore. If I didn't turn it off, I'd never rest.

With care, I extracted myself. On bare feet I padded to the light switch... then I stopped. Turning, I stared at Drez, counting the seconds. Had my movement woken him? The lift and fall of his shoulders said no.

He was curled on his side, back facing me where I stood. The idea that arose gave me chills.

I shouldn't.

But I was already tip-toeing to his side of the bed.

Crouching low, I faced his shoulder blades. Under the cloth, his muscles flexed even in sleep. Trembling fingers inches through the air towards him. I had to stop, restarting twice before I felt calm enough to try.

Edging up his shirt, I listened to the blood slam in my skull.
Slow, slow, go slow.
Drezden had worked so hard to make sure I didn't get his shirt off. There had to be a reason, I was too curious not to take the chance and see what it was.

I didn't need to lift much of the fabric to understand.

There, glossy and old on his lower back, was a scar as long as my hand. Releasing the shirt quickly, I covered my mouth.
What is that, what's that from?
It wasn't a small wound. Whatever had happened to Drezden had been painful.

For a long while, I just crouched there. I watched him sleep, staring a hole through the shirt where the scar was. There were knots in my calves when I finally stood up to turn the light off.

Sinking down beside him, I gazed into the darkness where the ceiling was. It didn't matter if my eyes were open or shut, blackness became my world, cursing me with a paranoia that grew like weeds.
Why would he hide that?
Absently, I traced the inside of my right arm where my own old scars were.
Did he think he couldn't trust me not to pry?

Guilt coiled, sharp and jagged.
He'd have been right; I would have asked.

Something, or someone, had hurt Drezden Halifax. I didn't blame him for wanting to avoid explaining, but relating didn't soothe my worries. Curling on my side, I buried my cheek in the pillow. His sounds, his smell, it smothered the air. He was close to capturing every part of me, and yet, I still knew so little about him.

Tomorrow, will we both be different people?

What will he act like? What about me?

Sleep would not come easy for me tonight.

But that was fine.

I needed every bit of time I could salvage so I could think.

- Chapter Fifteen -

Drezden

––––––––

“W
hat do you think is the most important thing you need to be a good guitarist?”

I lifted my head. My father watched me, his fingers perched like sparrows on the strings of his guitar.
What did you need to be a good guitarist?
It was a weird question. Somehow, I knew it was the most important thing he would ask me.

My lips peeled back to speak. Around me, the world shimmered. My father looked down with a grin so sweet it caused me pain. Above him, the sun burned until sweat ruined my vision.

Then he reached out, bringing horror and the cold reality of existence.

Inhaling sharply, I sat up on the bed. The room was quick to solidify; white walls, the vague hint of the sun through the covered hotel windows. My fingers scraped across my damp forehead.

I hadn't had a dream about my father in some time.

Why now?
I wondered, the tickle of his question still rattling my skull. The bed springs squeaked, reminding me of something far more pressing than my haunting memories. Right next to me was the pale shape of another ghost.

Lola breathed peacefully, blanket discarded like she was too warm. The dip of her waist tugged me in, leading me on a journey from her neck to her thighs.
Fucking hell, she's beautiful when she's so vulnerable.
She faced away, showing me her spine, elegant fingers twitching.
I bet she's dreaming of playing her guitar.

A crude buzzing noise started up. It cut into my moment, infuriating me further when Lola mumbled and shifted. In only my wrinkled shirt, I slid from the mattress just enough to find my discarded jeans. Crushing the source of the awful noise, my phone, I recognized the missed calls from Brenda.

It wouldn't be the first time I'd hung up on her. It would, however, be the first time I'd so easily decided to ignore my responsibilities.

The first time I'm choosing something—someone—over my career.

The implications of that tightened my guts. In an attempt to not dwell, I buried the silent phone deep in my pile of denim. There would be time for introspection later.

Rolling back, I gazed into the bleary blue-eyes of one very naked Lola Cooper. Her hair was tangled over her shoulders, partially hiding the tips of her impossibly perfect breasts. “What is it?” she yawned, still half-asleep.

The second I buried my mouth on hers she woke fully.

“Nothing important,” I whispered. Speaking was a waste of air, of time. I needed every bit of existence I had to be spent on Lola. I wanted to taste her again; to claim her, remind her where she was and who
I
was.

Who we both were, now.

It made no fucking sense. I was sure if I tried to explain it, I'd just sound insane. My fingers dragged across her ribs, crushing her deeper into the rumpled blankets. They would have to speak for me.

The knock on the door doused me with ice. Who the hell would dare interrupt me?

“Drez.” Lola tightened, paralyzed by... what? The knocking? That did nothing to help my mood. “Go see who it is,” she urged me.

I ignored her suggestion to answer the door. I had a pretty good idea what it was about, I just didn't want to acknowledge it.

When the knock came again, followed by the recognizable—and pissed off—voice of Brenda, Lola gave me a hard shove. I sat up enough to stare at her sobering glare. “Go talk to her. It's obviously important.”

“Alright, I'm going. Fuck.” There was no disguising my disappointment. Peeling off of Lola, I jammed my legs into my briefs and jeans. My cock argued with me the whole time, not wanting to fit into the tight confines of my clothing.

Gripping the door knob, wishing I could snap it off, I yanked it open. Brenda stood there in all her frazzled glory. Her crimson strands were knotted in a messy bun. In spite of all the signs she'd rushed over to my room, she
still
had thrown on some shiny black heels.

She reached out, fingers wrapping in the front of my shirt like she was some tough thug. It would have been funny if her face wasn't twisted in disgust. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

If vipers could talk.
I closed my hand over hers pointedly. I was bigger, stronger, and didn't like anyone trying to man-handle me; managers not excepted. “Morning to you, too.”

“Don't 'morning' me, you giant dick-hole!” It took everything she had, but she managed to move me a foot forward out into the hall with a solid twist of her body. If being my manager didn't work out, she should consider wrestling. “Ignoring my calls? Are you fucking insane? What were you—” She never finished. I knew what she was seeing around me, or rather,
who
she was seeing. Lola was easy to spot in my bed.

Pushing her further into the hall, I shut the door behind me. “Yeah. She's in there.”

For uncounted seconds, Brenda just stared at me. Pulling her arm back, she wiped her palm on the front of her blouse like she'd been touching something slimy. “You aren't even ashamed about it, are you? Jesus—Drezden, what were you
thinking?

I was thinking that I wanted Lola.
Nothing close to that rolled off my tongue. Instead, I squinted down at Brenda thoughtfully. This situation, it almost made me crave a smoke. Almost. With Lola in my system, I didn't want for much.

“Brenda,” I said slowly, “Sorry about ignoring your calls. I'll get our stuff and get down to the bus in five minutes, tops.”

Her laugh was crisp and cynical. “Oh no. You don't get to just walk away from this. Drezden,
everyone
saw you two grinding together like horny teens at the club last night! It's all over the fucking internet, my phone is blowing up, it's ridiculous! Were you drunk? Was
she
drunk?”

Prickles went up my neck. “We knew what we were doing.” I wouldn't allow myself to think otherwise.

“How the hell am I going to hide this?” She was watching me with... pity? Her emotions were all over the place. The lack of lipstick she wore hinted more at her distress than anything she'd said.

My arms bundled over my chest. “You aren't going to.”

“You're saying you don't think I can?” she scoffed.

“No. I'm telling you not to bother.”

With her hands falling to her sides, my manager froze. “I
have
to hide this. We all have to!”

The vein in her forehead is going to split wide open.
There was no room for argument in my tone. “I want the whole damn world to know about Lola and me.”
Let them see she's mine.

Groaning openly, Brenda rubbed at her cheeks until they went raw. “You're joking! Drezden, if I bury this now, people will forget about it in a few days. Maybe less if we give them something else to gossip over. What would make you want to risk losing fans, gaining jealous stalkers, and—and just what are you after here?”

There were a few things that floated up in my mind.
I was the one who told Lola to take the risk. I was the one who wanted this.

My answer was both frightening and enticing.

“I'm after her.” Showing Brenda my back, I twisted the door knob. “We'll be down in five.” Without another word, I closed myself away from the world.

Closed myself off from everything but Lola Cooper.

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