Out of Chances (3 page)

His clothes were peeled away and shrugged out of as fast as hers had been. Her skin was smooth and warm beneath his hands. He missed that. The touching. The caress with a kiss that didn't include alcohol.

He did not miss the way his ex had tried to organise his life. He had to get Lisa out of his head or he wouldn't be able to do this sober. He refused to let Lisa into his head or his pants anymore.

He grabbed Indigo's hand and drew her toward the bedroom. Condoms were in there anyway, he'd double-checked.

The bedroom wasn't huge, but the bed was plenty big enough.

She undid her bra and dropped it on the floor. Her breasts were small and perky—did she even need a bra? He palmed one and her nipple tightened against his skin. They'd looked bigger with the bra on.

Indigo claimed his lips again. He gave in and let her take control. She seemed to know exactly what she wanted.

‘You aren't worried about rushing,' he said between kisses.

‘We want the same thing. Why muck around?'

True but … stop thinking and get on with it. She wants you, dumbass.

Her hand pushed into his briefs and her fingers wrapped around his dick. He groaned as she stroked. So much better than drunk sex.

‘Best be getting the rest of these clothes off.' His words were smothered by her kisses. He liked that too. She wasn't a starfish waiting for him to act. Until six months ago, he'd thought the starfish position was normal for chicks. He hooked his thumbs into her panties and tugged them down.

She wiggled her hips until they slid the rest of the way down her very toned legs. ‘Your turn.'

He had no idea how she got them off while seemingly having her hands everywhere and her body moving against him. There was a level of familiarity, as if she knew him, that he hadn't had in a while. There shouldn't be any. He didn't give himself time to think about how much online stalking she may or may not have done.

He slid his fingers between her thighs. Short hair brushed his fingers and it was damp. When he pressed in she was slick. His dick jumped at the knowledge. He wanted her. He'd deal with the headfuck later, or not, as there was half a bottle of rum with his name on it for tonight. No. He had to make it last because he couldn't afford more.

Indigo caressed his cock as though she was enjoying the feel, and looking forward to getting more of it. Sex with Lisa had been safe and familiar and they knew what they liked. Drunk sex with a stranger was almost a race to get off while not really giving a shit about the other person—he was certain that it didn't really count as an intimate experience; there were no feelings involved.

This was something else. He wanted Indigo to have a good time. He wanted her to walk away satisfied and thinking he was awesome. One out of seven billion, he had a lot of work to do. It had been a long time since he'd really been with anyone new, he wasn't quite sure how to find out what she needed.

Just ask.

‘Got a preference? Top, bottom …' He lifted an eyebrow as his fingers teased her clit. His tongue could do a better job. As tempting as the idea was, he didn't go down the first time. ‘On your knees?'

‘Such a gentleman. I'll take top.' She was smiling.

Sweet.

He fell back onto the bed and reached up under the pillow to grab the condom packet. She didn't wait. She knelt over his thighs, her hands moving over him as though he was her new favourite toy. He could get used to that. Being wanted. She wasn't hiding the lust in her eyes or playing coy as though she didn't usually do this kind of thing. He knew in that moment he was just a conquest to her. A name …

He didn't actually care.

He tossed her the rubber.

She caught it with one hand and dressed his dick for the occasion before moving forward. Her lips met his as her hips lowered. She ground against him without letting him enter.

He gripped her hips, wanting to thrust into her and watch her ride him all the way to the end.

‘Now who's rushing?' she murmured.

‘I want you.' One hundred per cent true. That hadn't been true with anyone for close to a year. Habit wasn't desire no matter how much he'd wanted it to be. Wanting sex wasn't the same as wanting the person.

She lifted her hips and sank onto him.

At this point, as long as they both got off he didn't care what happened after.

One of her favourite rock stars was beneath her, naked. He had that whole too-good-to-be-true look about him on stage. She'd been to every concert Selling the Sun had performed at in Western Australia.

She'd never imagined getting this close; okay, she had imagined getting this close plenty of times, but she'd never expected it to actually happen.

Her body hummed with lust and excitement that wound tighter with each move. His fingertips were rough on her skin, and his eyes were firmly on her. Being on top meant that she made the most of what breasts she had. When she'd saved up a bit more money, she'd be doing something about that.

She slid her hand between her legs, determined to get there first. It didn't take much and he wasn't far behind, gripping her tighter as he came.

For a moment they didn't do anything but catch their breath. She'd needed that. Needed to see the heat in someone's eyes. Sometimes she made a mistake and they only wanted sex, not her.

Not this time. Even though he'd been cautious in the bar, he'd proven that wasn't really the case once she'd got him alone. He'd wanted her, she'd seen it. Felt it.

She smiled and sighed. ‘Well, that was a good way to finish a Friday afternoon.'

‘Any afternoon.'

She had to agree with him about that. She also knew not to outstay her welcome, nor did she want after sex weirdness. Ew. Screw and run. She should be moving …

Indigo looked at him for a little longer, trying to burn the memory into her mind forever. With his hair all messed up, naked on the bed, he wasn't as far out of reach as he seemed when on stage. She ran her fingertips down his chest. ‘I'm looking forward to your next album.'

His smile faltered for a moment. ‘Yeah. It should be good. A little darker.'

‘Got any special gigs coming up for the launch?' That sounded a bit too much like she'd fucked him for freebies—which she would've if he'd been offering. ‘I want to make sure I don't miss out.'

‘Big fan, are you?' He didn't seem to believe her. Where there had been heat there was now scepticism.

‘I'm always on your side of the stage and I know you do a lot of the writing.' It would probably be weird if she mentioned she also knew that he was single. ‘You know where I work so …' She eased off him. ‘If you ever want to hook up …' She took a few steps back then pointed at the door behind her on the other side of the corridor. ‘Bathroom, toilet?'

‘Toilet to the left.' He had his hand on his dick, holding on to the rubber.

He needed a moment alone.

She went into the toilet and closed the door. The rest of the flat might have been tidy-ish. This was not. There were also only about three squares of paper left and no sign of a new roll.

She shook her head and did the hover, as she didn't want to risk sitting on the seat. Her heart was still pounding. There was something exhilarating about a good pick-up. Her body glowed from the attention. She was desirable.

If Dan walked into the bar again, where she supplemented her personal trainer income, then she might give him another go. Who was she kidding, of course she would. He was Dan Clarke. The apparently not so squeaky clean bass player.

She carefully used up what was left of the toilet paper and flushed. There was no hand towel at the sink. Men! Was she supposed to wipe her hands on her clothes? If she'd been wearing any she would've. She settled for the flick and shake.

When she emerged he was wearing only jeans.

Hmmm. He could do with a few hard work-outs. Too much time on the road eating junk? But then, he was a guy and people didn't expect him to be perfect. When she looked at him he seemed comfortable in his skin. As much as she tried to make her skin comfortable, it wasn't.

For a few moments it hadn't mattered; he'd only been thinking of her. Or at least it had seemed that way. His gaze skimmed over her naked body and he didn't bother to hide the lust in his eyes. God, they were blue.
Let me drown in them deep blues.

‘What do you do, when not at the bar?' he said.

Indigo tried to keep her stroll past him calm as she scooped up her underwear and started dressing. ‘Personal trainer. Why?'

She knew why he was asking. Most women didn't have the muscle definition that she did. Many of the guys she'd been with found it unnerving. Which side would Dan fall on?

Don't be a jerk and ruin this. I don't want to have to wipe you from my playlist.

‘Ah. So you have two jobs.'

Nice save.

‘Got to make ends meet.'

His smile faded. ‘Yeah. Thanks for coming around. It was … um …' he ruffled his dark hair and glanced away.

She placed her hands on his chest and kissed him. ‘It was good. When you are so famous Freo is no longer home, I'll be able to say I picked you up and screwed you silly.'

He laughed. ‘Fingers crossed we all get what we want.'

His lips brushed hers again, but it was only a gentle kiss. That was goodbye. It was a nice goodbye though.

‘Maybe I'll see you around.' She didn't look back. In the living room she pulled on her jeans and shirt, shoved her feet into her shoes, then walked out of the flat.

The sun was setting and the breeze was in. It was a beautiful evening. She inhaled, and then released the breath before trotting toward her car with a smile on her face.

That had been more fun than she'd expected. She hadn't really been sure what to expect from him. He usually seemed so prim compared to the others, but maybe that was just his onstage persona.

Her grin widened as she unlocked her car.

She'd just slept with a rock star.

The guy she'd had a crush on since she'd first seen Selling the Sun play in the pub where she now worked. Unbelievable. She wanted to tell someone, but no one would be impressed with her conquest. Her sister would freak out.

Her friends thought that she was a little too promiscuous because she didn't have a boyfriend but enjoyed sex. It wasn't like she had a different man every weekend. Or even every month, but when she saw something she liked she thought it was worth taking the chance. Get what she wanted and walk away.

She hoped Dan would walk back into the bar, because she was very tempted to turn around and walk back to his door for round two. She glanced up the street. Nope, she had more pride than that. And she didn't want him to have the power to turn her away.

Chapter 3

Dan was half hoping that the knock on the door was Indigo returning to sit on his lap. ‘It's open.'

It wouldn't be. She'd got what she wanted and walked out without leaving her number or even wanting him to call. He had never enjoyed being used before. It was unsettling and now all he could think about was getting more.

Mike walked in with a bag of what smelled like Chinese takeaway. No more sex, but at least Mike had brought food. The fridge was looking rather grim. ‘Dinner is served.'

‘I'll get forks. Rum and cola?'

‘Nah. That shit rots your gut.'

‘You're right. I'll have it straight.' No ice, he'd finished that last night and hadn't topped up the tray. He held up the bottle to see if Mike was going to change his mind.

Mike shook his head. ‘I'll just have the cola.'

Dan bit his tongue instead of making a jibe about the way Mike's new girlfriend was straightening him out. He only knew about the girlfriend because Gemma had told him. This was the first time he and Mike had spoken since his mother's funeral. Dan looked at the rum in his glass. It had been the liquor in the hip flask that had got him into trouble that day. He'd had to take the edge off. Some days it all hurt. That morning he'd stopped around to his parents, only to see Lisa's car in the driveway. Unable to face her, he'd kept driving.

It was bad enough seeing her in passing.

Looking at her sad smile and listening to her asking when he was coming home. When he turned away he felt like scum. She acted as though she'd done no wrong, and no matter what he did around her he always came out smelling like a freshly laid turd.

If he was stinking anyway, he should just get it over with, then he could start the clean-up. Yeah, either move back in and be miserable or end it for good. Either way it was done. He needed it to be done so he could stop picking at the scab.

Dan brought the drinks back to the table. Mike already had the lids off the food. The deep fried sweet and sour pork was for him.

‘You remembered my favourite.' Dan blew Mike a kiss.

‘It's the only thing you ever order, it's not that hard.' Mike couldn't crack a smile or a joke tonight.

Dan sighed. ‘Look, man, I'm sorry about the funeral. I …' he should be saying that he was out of line but the words wouldn't form.

Mike shook his head. ‘I shouldn't have hit you. That's on me.'

‘You were in a bad place.'

A single nod was all he got for an answer. Mike wasn't exactly the most chatty member of the band, but he was fun to go out with and he always managed to pick up even though he had a beard and a man bun—Dan had no idea how he did it.

Mike ate some of his meat then dumped in some rice and kept eating. The conversation over.

Okay then. That was settled. Guess he was forgiven and they didn't ever need to mention the punch again. Dan was about a third of the way through his deep fried pork balls when Mike put his tub down, took a large drink of cola and then looked at him.

Oh.
The conversation wasn't over. If Mike wanted to talk, it had to be serious.