Lick: Stage Dive 1 (12 page)

Mal disappeared as soon as we got home. David stomped up the stairs to our bedroom. Was it really ours? I didn’t have a clue. But I followed. He turned and faced me as soon as I entered the room. His expression was fierce, dark brows down and his mouth a hard line. “You call that giving us a chance?”

Whoa. I licked my lips, giving myself a moment. “I call it going out to pick up some food. The kitchen was running late so we got a beer. We liked the music so we decided to get up to dance for a couple of songs. Nothing more.”

“He was all over you.”

“I was about to knee him in the balls.”

“You left without a fucking word!” he shouted.

“Don’t yell at me,” I said, searching for a calm I didn’t have in me just then. “I left you a note in the kitchen.”

He shoved his hands through his hair, visibly fighting for calm. “I didn’t see it. Why didn’t you come talk to me?”

“The red light was on. You were recording and I didn’t want to disturb you. We weren’t supposed to be gone for long.”

Bruised face furious, he walked a few steps away then turned and marched back. No calmer from what I could tell despite the pacing. But at least he seemed to be trying. His temper was the third person in the room and it took up all the damn space. “I was worried. You didn’t even have your phone on you, I found it on the fucking table. Pam’s phone kept ringing out.”

“I’m sorry you were worried.” I held out my hands, out of excuses for both of us. “I forgot to charge my phone. It happens sometimes. I’ll try to be more careful in future. But David, nothing was going on. I’m allowed to leave the house.”

“Fuck. I know that. I just …”

“You’re doing your thing, and that’s great.”

“This was some sort of fucking punishment?” He forced the hard words out through gritted teeth. “Is that it?”

“No. Of course not,” I sighed. Quietly.

“So you weren’t trying to get picked up?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Slapping him upside the head wasn’t out of the question. I kept my clenched fists safely at my side, resisting the urge.

“Why’d you let him touch you?”

“I didn’t. I asked him to move back and he refused. That’s when you arrived.” I rubbed at my mouth with my fingers, fast running out of patience. “We’re just going around in circles here. Maybe we should talk about this later when you’ve had a chance to calm down.”

Hands shaking, I turned toward the door.

“You’re leaving? Fucking perfect.” He threw himself back onto the bed. Laughter wholly lacking in humor came out of his mouth. “So much for us sticking together.”

“What? No. I don’t want to fight with you, David. I’m going downstairs before we start saying things we don’t mean. That’s all.”

“Go,” he said, his voice harsh. “I fucking knew you would.”

“God,” I growled, turning back to face him. The desire to scream and shout at him, to try to make some sense of this, boiled over inside of me. “Are you even listening to me? Are you hearing me at all? I’m not leaving you. Where is this coming from?”

He didn’t answer, just stared at me, eyes accusing. It made no sense.

I almost tripped getting back to him, my feet fumbling. Landing on my face would be perfect. It was exactly where this was heading. I didn’t even understand what we were fighting about anymore, if I ever had.

“Who are you comparing me to here?” I asked, every bit as angry as him now. “Because I am not her.”

He kept right on glaring at me.

“Well?”

His lips stayed shut and my frustration and fury skyrocketed. I wanted to grab him and shake him apart. Make him admit to something, anything. Make him tell me what the hell was really going on.

I crawled onto the bed, getting in his face. “David, talk to me!”

Nothing.

Fine.

I pushed back with trembling legs and tried to clamber off the mattress. He grabbed at my arms, trying to hold on. And like fuck he was. I pushed back hard. All brawling limbs, we tumbled off the bed and rolled onto the floor. His back hit the hardwood floor. Immediately, he rolled us again, putting me on the bottom. My blood pounded behind my ears. I kicked and pushed and wrestled him with all the hurt he’d inspired. Before he could get his bearings I rolled us again, regaining the uppermost position. He couldn’t stop me, the bastard. Escape was imminent.

But it didn’t happen.

David grabbed my face in both hands and mashed his lips to mine, kissing the stuffing out of me. I opened my mouth and his tongue slipped in. The kiss was rough and wet. Breathing was an issue. We both had anger management issues and neither of us entirely refrained from biting. With his bruised mouth, he definitely had the most to lose. It wasn’t long before the metallic taste of blood hit my tongue.

He pulled back with a hiss, fresh blood on his swollen top lip. “Fuck.”

He grabbed my hands. I didn’t make it easy on him, struggling for all I was worth. But he was stronger. He pinned them to the floor above my head with relative ease. The press of his hard-on between my legs felt exquisite, insane. And the more I bucked against him the better it got. Adrenaline had already been pouring through me, amping me up. The need to have him sat just below the surface, prickling my skin, making me hyperaware of everything.

So this was angry sex. I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him, not really. But there were other ways to assert myself in this situation. He came back to my mouth and I nipped him again in warning.

A mad smile appeared on his face. It probably matched my own. We were both panting, fighting for air. Both as stubborn as hell. Without another word he released my wrists and drew back. Quickly, he grabbed my waist and turned me over, pulling me up onto my elbows and knees. Arranging me how he wanted me. Rough hands tore at the button and zip on my jeans. He yanked down my denim and crazily overpriced thong, body poised over mine.

His hands smoothed over my ass. Teeth dragged over the sensitive skin of one cheek, just above the tattoo of his name. A hand slipped beneath to cup my sex. The press of his fingers against me had me seeing stars. When they started stroking me, working me higher, I couldn’t hold back my moan. He nipped me on the rump, a sharp sting of sensation. Then he pressed kisses up my spine. Stubble from his chin scratched my shoulder.

The lack of words, the absolute silence apart from our heavy breathing made it more. It made it different.

One finger slid inside me. Not nearly enough, damn it. He slid in a second finger, stretching me a little. Once, twice he slowly pumped it into me. I pushed back against his hand, needing more. Next came the sound of the bedside drawer sliding open as he searched for a condom. His fingers slid out of me and the loss was excruciating. I heard his zipper being lowered, the rustle of clothes and the crinkle of a condom wrapper. Then his cock pressed against me, rubbing over my opening. He pushed in slow and steady, filling me up until there was nothing left that wasn’t me and him. For a moment he stopped, letting me adjust.

But not for long.

Hands gripped my hips and he began to move. Each thrust was a little faster and harder than the last. Labored breathing and the slap of skin against skin swallowed the silence. The scent of sex hung heavy in the air. I pushed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, spurring him on. It was nothing like the sweet and slow of this morning. Neither of us was tender. My jeans shackled me at the knees, making me slip forward a little with each thrust. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in place. He stroked over something inside me and I gave a startled gasp. Again and again he concentrated on that spot, making me mindless. I felt superheated. Like fire burned through me. Sweat dripped off my skin. I hung my head, closed my eyes and held onto the floor with all my might. My voice called out without my consent, saying his name. Damn it. My body wasn’t my own. I came hard, awash with sensation. My back bowed, every muscle drawn tight.

David pounded into me, hands slipping over my slick skin. He came a moment later in silence, holding himself deep. His face rested against my back, arms wrapped around my body, which was lucky. I’d lost all traction. Slowly I slid to the floor. If he hadn’t been holding me I’d have face-planted. I doubt I’d have even cared.

In silence, he picked me up and carried me into the bathroom, sat me on the sink. Without fuss he dealt with the condom, started running a bath, holding a hand beneath the faucet to check the temperature. He undressed me like I was a child, pulling off my sneakers and socks, my jeans and panties. He tugged off my shirt and unclipped my bra. His own clothes were ripped off with far less care. I felt curiously naked with him now, the way he was treating me. Being so careful with me despite my biting and big boned unwieldiness. He treated me like I was precious. Like I was a china doll. One he could apparently have rough sex with upon occasion. Once more, he checked the water, then he picked me up again and into the bath we went.

I huddled against him, my skin cooling off fast. My teeth chattered. He held me tighter, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“I’m sorry if I was too rough,” he said finally. “I didn’t mean it, accusing you of shit like that. I just … fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Rough wasn’t a problem, but the trust issue … we’re going to need to talk about it sometime.” I rested my head against his shoulder, stared up into his troubled eyes.

His chin jerked as he gave me a tight nod.

“But right now, I’d like to talk about Vegas.”

The arms around me tensed. “What about Vegas?”

I stared back at him, still trying to think everything through. Not wanting to get this wrong, whatever this was.

Marriage, that’s what it was.

Shit.

“We’ve covered a lot of ground in the last twenty-four hours,” I said.

“Yeah, I guess we have.”

I held up my hand, my sparkly ring. The size of the diamond didn’t matter. That David had put it on me was what made it important. “We talked about lots of things. We slept together, and we made promises to each other, important ones.”

“You regretting any of it?”

My hand slid around the back of his neck. “No. Absolutely not. But if you woke up tomorrow, and you’d somehow forgotten all of this. If it was all gone for you, like it had never happened, I would be furious at you.”

His forehead wrinkled.

“I’d hate you for forgetting all this when it’s meant everything to me.”

He licked his lips and turned off the tap with a foot. Without the water gushing out the room quieted instantly.

“Yeah,” he said. “I was angry.”

“I’m not going to let you down like that again.”

Beneath me his chest rose and fell heavily. “Okay.”

“I know it takes time to learn to trust someone. But in the meantime, I need you to at least give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“I know.” Wary blue eyes watched me.

I sat up and reached for the washcloth on the edge of the bath. “Let me clean you up a little.”

A dark lump sat on his jaw. Blood lingered beneath his nose and near his mouth. He was a mess. A big red mark was on his ribs.

“You should see a doctor,” I said.

“Nothing’s broken.”

Carefully, I wiped the blood from the side of his mouth and beneath his nose. Seeing him in pain was horrible. Knowing I was the cause made my stomach twist and turn. “Tell me if I press too hard.”

“You’re fine.”

“I’m sorry you got hurt. In the bar tonight, and in Vegas. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

His eyes softened and his hands slid over me. “I want you to come back to LA with me. I want you with me. I know school will start back eventually and we’re gonna have to work something out. But whatever happens, I don’t want us apart.”

“We’re not going to be.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Morning light woke me. I rolled over and stretched, working out the kinks. David lay on his back beside me, fast asleep. He had an arm flung over his face, covering his eyes. With him there, everything was right with my world. But also, everything was on show. He’d kicked off the sheet sometime during the night. So the morning wood thing was true. There you go. Lauren had been right on that count.

Waking up beside him with my wedding ring back on my finger had me grinning like a loon. Of course waking up beside a bare-naked David would have made just about anybody smile. Between my legs felt a little sore from last night’s efforts, but nothing too bad. Nothing sufficient to distract me from the view that was my husband.

I shuffled down the bed a bit, checking him out at my leisure for once. He didn’t have much of a belly button. It was basically a small indent followed by a fine trail of dark hair leading down across his flat stomach directly to
it
. And
it
was hard, thick, and long.

It
being his penis, of course.

Gah. No, that didn’t sound right.

His cock. Yeah, much better.

We’d sat in the warm bath for a while last night at his insistence, soaking. We’d just talked. It had been lovely. There’d been no mention of the woman who’d obviously cheated on him and/or left him at some time in his past. But I’d felt her presence lurking. Time would kick her out the back door, I was sure of it.

He smelled faintly of soap, a little musky, perhaps. Warm wasn’t something I’d ever registered as having a smell before, but that’s what David smelled of. Warmth, like he was liquid sunshine or something. Heat and comfort and home.

I quickly checked his face. His eyes were still closed beneath the length of his arm, thank goodness. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. I really didn’t need him catching me sniffing at his crotch, no matter how poetic my thoughts. That would be embarrassment on a scale I’d prefer not to experience.

The skin looked super smooth despite the veins and the head stood out distinctly. He was uncut. Curiosity got the better of me, or maybe it already had. With all of his front half at my disposal, look where I’d wound up. I gently laid the palm of my hand atop him. The skin was soft and warm. Carefully, I wrapped my fingers around him. His cock twitched and I jerked back, startled.

David burst out laughing, loud and long.

Bastard.

Embarrassment was a dam that had burst wide open inside of me. Heat flashed up my neck.

“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching for me with his hand. “But you should have seen your face.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Baby, you wouldn’t believe how fucking funny it was.” He wrapped his fingers around my wrist, dragging me up and onto him. “Come here. Aw, the tips of your ears are all pink.”

“No they’re not,” I mumbled, lying across his chest.

He stroked my back, still sniggering. “Don’t let this scar you for life though, hey? I like you touching me.”

I huffed noncommittally.

“You know, if you play with my dick things will always happen. I guarantee it.”

“I know that.” The crook of his neck was handy for burying my hot face in, so I took full advantage. “I just got a surprise.”

“You sure did.” He squeezed me tight then slid a hand down to cup my bottom. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“A little sore,” I admitted. “A lot happy. Though that was before you callously mocked me.”

“Poor baby. Let me see,” he said, rolling me over onto the mattress until he was on top.

“What?”

He sat up between my legs with a hand holding my knees open. With a practiced eye he checked me over. “You don’t look too swollen. Probably just a bit sore inside, yeah?”

“Probably.” I tried to pull my legs up, to close them. Because I heartily doubted having him look at me there in that way helped the color of my ear tips.

“I have to be more careful with you.”

“I’m fine. Not that breakable, honestly.”

“Mm.”

“Takes more than a round of rough sex on the hardwood floor to worry me.”

“That so? Stay still for me,” he said, shuffling back to lie down at the end of the mattress.

This situated him distinctly between my legs, face to face with my girl bits, guaranteeing I wouldn’t be going anywhere. I’d heard good things about this, things that made my embarrassment levels redundant. Plus, I was curious.

He brushed his lips against my sex, the warmth of his breath making me shiver. My stomach muscles spasmed in anticipation.

His gaze met mine over the top of my torso. “Okay?”

I gave him a jerky nod, impatient.

“Put the other pillow behind your head too,” he instructed. “I want you to be able to watch.”

My husband had the best ideas. I did as asked, settling in to watch though my legs were aquiver. He kissed the inside of my thighs, first one, then the other. Everything in me focused on the sensations emanating from there. My world was a small perfect place. Nothing existed outside our bed.

His eyes closed but mine stayed open. He kissed his way over the lips of my sex and then traced the divide with the tip of his tongue. That worked. Warmth suffused me inside. Hands wrapped around the underneath of my thighs, fingers rubbing small circles into my skin. His lips never left my sex. It was exactly as if he was kissing me there. Mouth open wide and tongue stroking, making me writhe. The grip on my thighs tightened, holding me to him. Even the brush of his hair and the prickle of his stubble against me were thrilling things. I don’t know when I stopped watching. My eyes shut of their own accord as the pleasure took over. It was amazing. I didn’t want it to end. But the pressure inside me built until I couldn’t contain it any longer. I came with a shout, my body drawn tight from top to toe. Every part of me tingled. He didn’t pull back until I lay perfectly still, concentrating on just breathing.

“Am I forgiven for laughing at you?” he asked, crawling up the bed to plant a kiss on my shoulder.

“Sure.”

“How about the rough sex on the hardwood floor? Am I forgiven for that too?”

“Mmhmm.”

The mattress shifted beneath me as he hovered above. His wet mouth lingered over the curve of my breast, the line of my collarbone.

“I really liked that,” I said, my voice low and lazy. Gradually I opened my eyes.

“Fuck-drunk suits you, Evelyn.” A hand smoothed over my hip and he smiled down at me. “I’ll eat you out whenever you like. You only have to ask.”

I smiled back at him. And the smile
may
have twitched a little at the edges. Talking about this kind of thing was still new to me.

“Tell me you liked me licking your gorgeous pussy.”

“I said I liked it.”

“You’re embarrassed.” David’s brows drew together. There was mischief in his eyes. “You can talk rough sex on hardwood floors but not cunnilingus, hey? Say ‘pussy’.”

I rolled my eyes. “Pussy.”

“Again. Not as in ‘cat’.”

“I’m not saying it as in ‘cat’. Pussy. Pussy, pussy, pussy. Pussy not as in ‘cat’. Happy?” I laughed, moving a hand to slide down his chest, heading for his groin. “Can I do something for you now?”

He stopped my hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed it. “I’m going to wait till tonight when we can make love again, if you’re feeling okay.”

“We’re making love tonight, Mr Smooth?”

“Sure.” He smirked, climbing off the bed. “We’ll make love again and then we’ll fuck again. I think we should put some serious time into exploring the differences. It’ll be fun.”

“Okay,” I quickly agreed. I wasn’t stupid.

“That’s my girl.” He held a hand out for me, eyes intent. “You are so damn pretty. You know, I’m never going to be able to wait until tonight.”

“No?”

“Nope. Look at you lying all naked on my bed. I’ve never seen anything I’ve liked more.” He shook his head, mouth rueful as his eyes travelled over my body. My husband was incredibly good for my ego. But he made me feel humble at the same time, grateful. “I was a fucking idiot to suggest waiting,” he said, taking a step back and crooking his finger at me. “And you know how I hate being away from you. Come help me in the shower? It’ll give you some good hands-on experience.”

I crawled off the bed after him. “That so?”

“Oh, yeah. And you know how seriously I take you and your education.”

*

“You suck,” said Lauren, her voice echoing down the line. Pam had warned me some parts of the coast could be iffy with cell coverage.

“I’m not saying I don’t still love you,” she said. “But, you know …”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I said, settling into the corner of the lounge. The menfolk were busy downstairs making music. Pam had gone running errands in town. I had calls to make. Boxes to unpack. Dreams of blissful wedlock to work up to insane, impossible proportions inside my head.

“Never mind. Update me,” she demanded.

“Well, we’re still married. In a good way this time.”

Lauren screamed in my ear. It took her a good couple of minutes to calm down. “Oh my God, I was hoping something would work out. He’s so fucking hot.”

“Yes, indeed he is. But he’s more than that. He’s wonderful.”

“Keep going.”

“I mean, really wonderful.”

She huffed out a laugh. “You already used ‘wonderful’. Try a new word, Cinderella. Give my inner fangirl something to work with here.”

“Don’t crush on my husband. That’s not cool.”

“You’re six years too late with that warning. I was crushing on David Ferris long before you put a ring on him in Vegas.”

“Actually, he doesn’t have a ring.”

“No? You should fix that.”

“Hmm.” I stared out the window at the ocean. Out in the distance a bird drifted in lazy circles high up in the sky. “We’re at his place in Monterey. It’s beautiful here.”

“You left LA?”

“LA was not so great. What with the groupies and lawyers and business managers and everything, it was pretty shitty.”

“Details, babe. Gimme.”

I drew my knees up to my chest and fidgeted with the seam of my jeans, feeling conflicted. Discussing our personal details behind David’s back didn’t sit well with me. Not even with Lauren. Things had changed. Most noticeably, our marriage had changed. But there were still some things I could share. “The people there were like something from another planet. I did not fit in. Though you would have liked seeing the parties they threw. All the glamorous people packed into this mansion. It was impressive.”

“You’re making me insanely jealous. Who was there?”

I gave her a couple of names as she oohed and aahed.

“But I don’t miss LA. Things are so good now, out here, Lauren. We’ve put the annulment on hold. We’re going to see how things go.”

“That’s so romantic. Tell me you’ve jumped that fine-looking man’s bones, please. Don’t make me cry.”

“Lauren,” I sighed.

“Yes or no?”

I hesitated and she got screamy at me, rather predictably.

“YES OR NO?”

“Yes. Alright? Yes.”

This time, her shriek definitely did my eardrums permanent damage. All I could hear was ringing. When it ended, someone was mumbling in the background. Someone male.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“No one. Just a friend.”

“A friend-friend or a friend?”

“Just a friend. Hang on, changing rooms. And we were talking about you, partner of David Ferris, world famous lead guitarist for Stage Dive.”

“A friend that I know?” I asked, curiosity now fully aroused.

“You are aware of the picture of your ass making the rounds, aren’t you?”

Cue the squirming. “Uh, yeah. I am.”

“Bummer. Haha! But seriously, you look good. Mine wouldn’t have looked half as nice. Bet you’re glad you walked to campus last semester instead of driving all the time like lazy ol’ me. That sure was some night you had in Vegas, missy.”

“Let’s talk about your friend instead of my butt. Or Vegas.”

“Or we could talk about your sex life. Because we’ve been talking about mine for a couple of years now but we haven’t much been able to talk about yours, girlfriend,” she said in a glee-filled singsong voice.

“Evvie! Want a soda?” Mal shouted as he sailed past on his way to the kitchen, having emerged from below.

“Yes, please.”

“Who is that?” asked Lauren.

“The drummer. They’re doing some work in the studio downstairs.”

Lauren gasped. “The whole band is there?”

“No, just Mal and another friend of David’s.”

“Malcolm is there? He’s really hot, but a total man slut,” she supplied helpfully. “You should see the number of women he gets photographed with.”

“Here you go, child bride.” Mal passed me an icy-cold bottle, the top already removed.

“Thanks, Mal,” I said.

He winked and wandered off again.

“None of my business,” I told Lauren.

She clucked her tongue. “You haven’t been on the internet to find anything out about them, have you? You’re flying totally blind in this situation.”

“It feels wrong checking up on them behind their backs.”

“Naivety is only sexy up to a point, chica.”

“It’s not naivety,
chica
. It’s respecting their personal lives.”

“Which you’re now a part of.”

“Privacy matters. Why should they trust me if I’m stalking them on-line?”

“You and your excuses,” Lauren sighed. “So you don’t know that the band started touring when David was only sixteen? They got a gig supporting a band through Asia and have pretty much stayed on the road or in the recording studio from then onward. Hell of a life, huh?”

“Yeah. He said he’s ready to slow down.”

“I’m not surprised. Rumors about the band breaking up are everywhere. Do try and stop that from happening if you can, please. And get your husbo to get his shit into gear and hurry up and write a new album. I’m counting on you.”

“No problem,” I said, not sharing that David was writing me songs. That was private. For now at least. The list of things I didn’t feel I could share with Lauren was growing exponentially.

“I wanted you to crush that boy’s heart so we could have another album like
San Pedro
. But I can tell you’re going to be difficult about that.”