Heavy Metal (A Badboy Rockstar Romance) (24 page)

Thankfully, with a lot of encouragement and patience from Brandon, I had finally agreed to give it a go.  And when I had, all my insecurities had immediately been washed away.  Right then and there, as I had looked down at the ecstasy on Brandon’s face, I had vowed to never let my own hang-ups get in the way of incredible sex ever again.

And tonight I was grateful I had made that promise to myself.  I felt like a sex goddess up there on top, bouncing up and down so hard and fast that I could barely catch my breath.  I threw my head back and groaned in delight as Brandon teased my nipples, pinching and flicking until I could hardly stand it anymore.

That was when Brandon lifted me up off of him, treating me as though I weighed nothing at all.  He easily repositioned us, this time with me lying on my back atop the desk and him on top of me.  Then he penetrated me again, filling me up and making me mewl with pleasure.

As Brandon’s hardness thrust into my tight, wanting depths repeatedly, I found myself moaning in pleasure.  His hand slid between our bodies and found that magical, oh-so-sensitive spot, causing me to gasp as his fingertip flicked over it.  I arched my hips and groaned, seeking out more stimulation.

He didn’t disappoint.

As he took me, Brandon’s finger moved around and around in slow, deliberate circles.  As my need grew, his movements became faster and he applied more pressure.  It drove me wild.  It was exactly what I wanted, exactly what I needed. 

My body seized up, my pelvic muscles clenching as my belly tightened and my toes curled. 

When my climax hit I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t cry out. 

I shuddered and trembled as I saw stars.  It was incredible, and I guess my body must have clamped down so hard that it set Brandon off.  When I realized he was climaxing, I did everything in my power to make it as good for him as I possibly could, squeezing my pelvic muscles and whispering sexy things in his ear.

With a contented groan, he collapsed on top of me, his face pressed against my neck.

As I laid there and affectionately stroked his hair while we both caught our breath, I was overcome with gratitude for the way my life had turned out.  The fact that I had even met Brandon in the first place seemed like such a happy coincidence.  He was so perfect for me in every conceivable way.  I wanted to stay in his arms forever.

Suddenly we heard the unmistakable squeak of wheels as something was pushed down the hallway toward us.  It sounded like it was a ways down the hall, but it was getting closer! 

“Shit!” Brandon exclaimed, leaping off of me.

We scrambled into our clothes, fumbling around in the darkness in a blind panic.  For someone who had complained so much about having to wear a unicorn costume, Brandon was sure eager to get back into it! 

Later on, I realized the ramifications of him, a famous rock star, being caught in a compromising position like that would be huge.  It would have given the media even more reason to stalk and harass him, and he would have been thrust into the public eye even worse than he already was.  No wonder he had been so afraid of being found out.

Thankfully, we didn’t get caught.

Instead, we walked out of the classroom nonchalantly, trying to behave as though we had done nothing wrong.  Inwardly I was on pins and needles, but outwardly we acted calm, cool and collected like we’d had every right to be in that empty classroom. 

We passed by a confused looking janitor.  He gave us a strange look as he wheeled a cart full of cleaning supplies down the hall.  At first I thought the evidence of what we had done was written all over my face.  But then I realized I was a slutty unicorn walking down a deserted hallway with a unicorn.  No wonder the janitor was giving us that look!

When we made it outside, I let out the breath I’d been holding with a whoosh.  Beside me, Brandon took off the head of his costume, brushed his unruly dark hair out of his eyes and took in a deep breath.

“Holy shit, we almost got caught!” I exclaimed, feeling giddy as adrenaline surged through me.

Brandon didn’t answer.  He was looking over my shoulder at something.  Even though the tall light standards scattered around campus only provided so much illumination, I could see that he was concerned.  I turned around to see what he was looking at.

A young woman was seated on a bench in the campus courtyard.  Her head was down so that her face was shrouded by her hair, and her shoulders were slumped in defeat.  A man was pacing back and forth in front of her, his fists clenched at his sides.  Even from a distance I could tell he was really angry, his movements abrupt and jerky.

Instantly, I was reminded of Carl.  I knew that guy’s body language – and the young woman’s too, for that matter.  I knew it all too well.  In fact, it occasionally still haunted my dreams.  A bad feeling immediately came over me.

Without so much as a moment’s hesitation, I started walking toward them.

“Hayley wait,” Brandon hissed, reaching for my hand.  “Stay here.  Let me go instead.”

“No,” I said firmly, pulling my hand from his grasp.  I had to do it.

I walked over to the couple, Brandon right beside me.  As we got closer, I could hear the guy berating the woman, telling her how stupid and incompetent she was.  It stung, mostly because it brought back flashes of ugly interactions I’d had with Carl over the years.  It also made me angry on behalf of the girl – and perhaps even on behalf of myself.

“Is there a problem here?” I demanded.  My voice sounded surprisingly strong and self-assured.

The guy spun around and looked at me angrily.  “Mind your own business,” he said sharply before turning his back on me.  He was evidently so preoccupied by his rage that he had no time for me.  That was okay.  I didn’t have time for him, either.

Ignoring the idiot, I addressed the woman.  “My name is Hayley,” I told her.  “What’s yours?”

“J – J – Jessica,” she replied, her lower lip trembling.

“Shut up!” the guy screamed, getting right in her face so he could intimidate her.  “You don’t talk to
anyone
unless I tell you to talk to them, got that bitch?  God, you’re hopeless.  I don’t even know why I’m dating you.  You’re such a stupid cow!” 

She cowered in a way that told me he’d struck her before.  She was afraid of him.  And I was afraid for her.  Without even thinking, I took a step forward and tapped the idiot on the shoulder in an effort to make him leave the girl alone. 

It worked. 

When he whirled around and focused his attention on me, I wondered if I had gotten myself in deeper than I had intended.  Was he going to hit me?  Uncertainly, I took a step back.

“What the hell is your problem?” the guy growled, advancing on me.

That was when Brandon stepped in.

He pushed his way in between the two of us, positioning his body in front of mine.

The guy took one look at his unicorn costume and sneered.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Touch either one of them and you’re dead,” Brandon told him, his voice muffled by his costume.  He may have looked completely absurd due to the way he was dressed, but there was no mistaking his tone.  He was dead serious.  He meant business.

The jackass who had been yelling at his girlfriend reminded me so much of Carl.  Just like my good for nothing ex, I could tell there was a coward beneath all that bravado.  The guy took a menacing step toward Brandon, but then appeared to reconsider when Brandon stood his ground, unflinching. 

“Come on,” the jerk said gruffly, grabbing his girlfriend’s arm.  “Let’s get out of here!”

“You’re hurting me!” she protested as he yanked her to her feet.

“Get your hands off her,” Brandon yelled, clearly infuriated by what he was witnessing.

He grabbed the guy by the back of the neck and violently yanked him backwards, lifting him right up off of his feet.  Sure, the jerk was intimidating and made a lot of noise, but Brandon was stronger and obviously in full control of the situation. 

For a brief instant, I saw fear flash in the coward’s eyes.

Clearly humiliated, the idiot turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving his tearful girlfriend alone on the park bench with me and Brandon – two complete strangers.  Yep, he was a real winner, abandoning his woman the moment he felt threatened.  It seemed like he and Carl had been cut from the same cloth.

“Are you okay?” I asked gently, sitting down next to young woman.

“I...I can’t believe he just left,” she stuttered, shell shocked.  “He just...left.”

I looked up at Brandon.  He was standing in front of us shifting from foot to foot, his head turned away as though he was unsure of where to look.  Even though I couldn’t see his face I could tell he was deeply uncomfortable.  He was great at swooping in and intimidating losers with his muscles, but the talking stuff that came afterward clearly wasn’t his forte. 

That was okay.  It was something I, unfortunately, knew exactly how to deal with.

“Can you give us a minute?” I asked Brandon. 

He nodded and walked a short distance away.  He was out of earshot but still right in my line of vision.  I suspected that was deliberate.  His protective streak had taken over and he didn’t want to let me out of his sight.  I appreciated that.  It was sweet, and it made me feel better to know he was nearby.

But he wasn’t my concern right now.  I had a sniffling, heartbroken young woman to deal with.

“Jessica,” I said kindly, choosing my words with care, “I’m so sorry about what happened to you tonight.  You should also know that I’ve been pretty much exactly where you are right now...on a few occasions, actually.  I know how much it hurts.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“It was my own fault,” she muttered, her head still down.  “I screwed up.”

“So that gives your boyfriend the right to call you names and make you feel terrible about yourself?” I asked patiently, hoping she would see the light.  “Does it make it okay for him to put his hands on you?”

“No, but he has a lot going on in his life between exams and work,” she confided.  “I should know better than to aggravate him.  If I had just done what he said he wouldn’t have lost it like that.  I brought it on myself,” she insisted, clearly trying to make excuses for something inexcusable. 

I understood why she was doing it.  I knew exactly what would motivate someone to explain a significant other’s bad behavior away.  I had tried to justify Carl’s behavior to other people and to myself on countless occasions.  And suddenly I also understood how frustrated my friend Angie must have been when I insisted on staying with my abusive ex despite her warnings.

“We all have a lot going on in our lives,” I pointed out.  “That doesn’t make it okay for someone to treat you the way your boyfriend did.  You deserve better than that.  You deserve someone who makes you feel special and important,” I said, casting a look in Brandon’s direction. 

“He’s the only boyfriend I’ve ever had,” she said tearfully as she wrung her hands together. 

“Why do you stay with him?”

“We’ve been together since we were both fourteen.  I can’t imagine my life without him.”

I smiled compassionately and squeezed her hand.  “That’s not really a reason,” I pointed out.  “At least it’s not a
good
reason.”

“What’s a good reason?”

“Does he make you smile?  Does he make you laugh?  Does he support you and encourage you and make you feel good about yourself?  Does he give you a shoulder to cry on when you need one?  Is he respectful?  Do you trust him?  Do you feel safe with him?  If a guy doesn’t treat you like freaking
royalty
then he’s not right for you.”

She snorted through her tears.  “No offense, but I think maybe you watch too many romance movies.  That kind of guy doesn’t exist in real life.”

“He does,” I insisted with so much conviction in my voice that she couldn’t help but reconsider.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” I said, sneaking another glance at Brandon.  “And I’m sure of something else too.  Until you find the guy who’s all of those things and more, the guy you can’t possibly imagine living without?  Until he comes along you’re better off alone.  Don’t waste your time on losers.  You’ll regret it if you do.”

“My boyfriend and I live together,” she confided tearfully.  “I can’t just leave him.”

“You can do whatever you want,” I told her confidently.  “Whatever obstacles you think are standing in your way can be overcome, I promise.  There’s always a way out.  You can do it.  You can leave him.”

She was already shaking her head.  “No.  I’m scared,” she whispered.  “He hit me once when he was really, really angry.  I had a black eye and everything.  And if I leave him he’ll be furious.  I’m afraid he might hit me again.”

“I think you need to get campus security involved,” I told her.  “It wouldn’t hurt to file a report with the police, too.  Also, tell people what’s going on.  Are you close to your family?  Talk to them.  Tell them what’s been happening.  Don’t be ashamed –
he’s
the one who should be ashamed, not you.”

“My family is all out of state,” Jessica told me.  “There’s not a lot they can do to help me.”