Rock Me Deep (10 page)

The thrum in my heart was distracting. It threatened to climb right up my throat and out of my mouth. I thought, if I spoke, I'd just stutter.

“This tattoo,” he said abruptly, “What does it mean?”

Focusing on my own arm, I scrutinized the beautiful and intricate design he was referencing. It was a castle, a single stone tower wrapped in veins of ivy. Stark black and grey, I'd had to sit for a few hour long sessions to finish it. “Nothing.”

Drezden barely moved. His tiny smirk was a road map to his doubt. I was never a great liar. “It clearly means
something.”

Of course it did. It meant everything about my life, about that space of time where I'd let everyone hurt me. When school had been filled with cruel bullies and crueler teachers.

The depression that had made a razor my best friend.

I'd been a hollow chunk of myself. This tattoo, though... it represented my restoration. It was the walls that I'd built to keep me from feeling fragile, the ivy a symbol of the music that had brought me back and kept me together.

But I could never explain all that to Drezden.

“You don't look well,” he murmured. His words moved a strand of hair on my forehead. Then, he straight up placed his palm on my skin. He was warm, I was a broiler.

Sucking my teeth, we both heard my throttled whistle. “I'm—I'm fine!” I blurted, twisting away in a panic.
Shit, he touched me. Fuck fuck fuck I felt that between my thighs!
It had been like he'd reached right inside of me and stroked my center. Except... except more pleasant.

More raw and wild.

I was worked up, sweating and pale. I saw myself in the mirror; my skin was the color of milk. Drezden went to hold me down, saying something about not moving so fast, not to panic. How could I listen to him with my ears thumping?

I wrenched upwards, shoving at his chest and swaying off balance. One of us kicked the other in the ankle; it didn't matter who was to blame. I went from fighting him to grappling with his arms, my world flipping under me as I lost my balance.

“Look out!” he cried, grabbing out for something to stabilize us. Together we tumbled, my legs over my head almost comically. The porcelain of the nearby bathtub rattled as we landed inside, stunning me.

Drezden crashed down on me like a landslide. I coughed, coughing in pained shock, the sickening thud of a skull hitting the wall beside me demanding I focus. “Shit,” I groaned, “Drezden? You okay?”

Fluttering my eyes, I stared into the peaceful face of the singer of Four and a Half Headstones. His weight was heavy, but somehow comforting on me. The red mark on his temple showed where he'd banged his head.

I was too nervous to move or breathe. There was a chance Drezden was hurt. Yet, for me, it was the first time we'd been so close without him paralyzing me with those intense green eyes of his. He wasn't yelling or growling, he wasn't sending iron burrs into my limbs.

Pressed under his warmth, I wasn't... scared of him.

But I was scared
for
him.

One of my arms was trapped between us. The pulse of Drezden's heart trickled up my skin. Reaching out with my fingers, I hovered just in front of his jaw.
I need to see if he's okay.
“Drezden?” I whispered, voice scratchy. “Drez, wake up.”

The singer didn't budge.

My mouth tasted like batteries. The ends of my fingers quivered, desperately wanting to alight on his cheek. If I did, I'd risk breaking everything; that moment that could go on forever. A slice of time that allowed me to bask in the intensity that was Drezden Halifax, his beauty and heat, without turning into dribbling and useless chunks.

He might really be hurt,
I realized. All at once, the tranquility vanished. With just the one free hand, I dropped it, clasping his bare shoulder. It was tepid, smooth as glass. “Drezden! Drezden, wake up! Are you alright? Talk to me!”

Breathing suddenly through his nose, the man cracked his eyes and looked at me. He might as well have been Medusa for how I stopped moving. “Why the hell are you touching me?” he asked softly.

Opening my lips, I found... nothing. No words. The situation had transformed and he was once more a fucking god of rock who spun perverse thoughts to life inside of me just by being near.

Just by being alive.

He shifted, hissing as he gripped his skull. His weight ground against me, rubbing jeans on my pelvis. The sensation was wonderfully awful. My lower belly danced, my tongue knotted.

Watching me, Drezden paused. The look in his eyes went from surprised to accusatory. I preferred the first expression by far.

I felt it, didn't I?
I'd noticed it soon after he'd fallen on me. Distracting myself with his injury had served somewhat, but now... under the loaded gun of his hot gaze, his strong scent and moving body, I was all too aware of what was happening.

Drezden's cock was hard as a rock, and it was pushing into my hip.

My thighs tensed from holding the position I had for so long. I didn't dare move, though. The result of everything I'd been trying to deny was pinned between me and Drezden.

He adjusted again, slowly that time. The pressure of his hard-on rolling over me was torture. It was almost enough to make me want to find those guards again, just to let them beat me senseless.

To make me forget that Drezden Halifax...

Wanted
me.

Tingles rose through my sternum. My nipples firmed in my bra, betraying me with their reaction. The small tents were obvious through the thin material. Sensing his attraction was doing things to me I wasn't ready for.

Oh fuck, what do I do?
I thought wildly. Turning my chin, I stared at the wall where Drezden had hit his temple. I ripped my hand off of him, leaving it floating in the air uselessly. “Are—are you alright?” I choked out.

“I'm fine,” he said, knees spreading outside of my calves as he sat up. I still couldn't bring myself to look at him. His shade fell over me in the small space. “But I asked you something. Why the hell were you touching me?”

His question reminded me too pointedly of our tangled bodies. “I was worried you were really hurt. I—fuck, I'm sorry that I knocked us down."

Hard, callused fingers suddenly dug into my chin. Drezden twisted me, forcing me to look at him straight on. In his emerald depths, I saw my own lust-filled expression reflected. “You could have broken your fucking neck,” he hissed. “Let alone mine! Why do you always fight me so hard?”

A million reasons danced on the tip of my aching tongue.
Because you turn my legs to mush, because you make me forget my name, because you scare the shit out of me with how you make me feel.

I could say none of them. “Because,” I croaked, “You keep treating me like I'm weak.”

Considering me, Drezden finally let me go. My jaw throbbed where he'd held me. “You'd prefer I treat you like something else?”

“Of course!” Disbelief flared in me. “I'm not your kid sister, okay? I get enough of that already in my life.”

His weight settling on me. Gasping, I writhed in spite of my situation. Was he intentionally grinding himself in between my legs? No, he couldn't be. He wouldn't. “You want me to start acting like we're the same?”

Only my still sputtering anger allowed me to speak so flatly. “Yeah, that'd be a nice start.”

Something threatening slid across his face, a hint beneath the surface at a part of Drezden I'd only glimpsed when he sang. “You couldn't handle that.”

Tension crawled up my spine. He was too serious, and it made my goosebumps stiff. With both my arms free, I grabbed at the wall and edge of the tub. The forewarning in Drez's tone, his words, advised me to escape

Easily, he pressed down on me. The back of my head bounced off the porcelain. It didn't hurt, but it left me stunned. His tank-top crushed against my bra, along the tops of my breasts. “What the fuck are
you
doing?” I gasped.

"You wanted me to stop coddling you like you might break,” he growled. "I'll do just that. And if you're as tough as you keep claiming, you'll be just fine. Because Lola, when I go all out?" His hands squeezed my shoulders like a vice, his breath brushing over my puckered lips. "Only the strong ones survive me."

My world was swimming. Even if I hadn't banged my head, I'd have been dazed.
What is he saying? This is too much, too intimate.
Being trapped under the firm, smoldering body of Drezden Halifax wasn't something I'd ever expected to encounter.
I wish my heart would stop pounding!
Licking my lips nervously, I said, “Drez, hey. I don't—you shouldn't be doing this.”

His eyebrow crawled upwards. “I haven't done anything yet.”

Yet,
I thought, fighting down a wave of desire. Every second I spent with this man brought me closer to giving in. I was more excited than I'd been with anyone else in my life, but his threat stayed with me.

He was a sexual monster who was warning me what he could do.

And I was a virgin.

“Lola,” he whispered, and the sheer hunger in his voice made me clench my jaw and close my eyes. “What the hell is this, what are you doing to me?”

Doing to HIM?
All I could do was shake my head. I moved so slow, trapped in a world of thick syrup. It was Drezden who was making this happen. There was no way I was causing it.

His expert fingers glided down my arms, as much as they could in our cramped confines. Lying across me, he rocked his hips; a single movement that made my pussy twitch.

I couldn't think, couldn't talk. Everything around me was made of Drezden. My ears sought him out, my nostrils drowned in his scent. I might have vanished entirely in that tub if he hadn't stiffened, then sat up.

Confused, I opened my eyes to see him looking at the door, straining as he listened. I understood why when a voice called out. “Drez? You in here?”

Porter,
I realized.

In a whirlwind of limbs, the singer flew off of me. He didn't even look back, just darted out the door and shut it softly behind him. Our private world of wicked heat vanished. I was alone, it could have all been a drunken dream.

Blinking, I shifted my gaze up to the white ceiling. It was a perfect canvas for my mind; blank, featureless.

What just happened?

With my ear to the tub, I heard the metallic echoes of people speaking in the distance. The familiar rumble of Drezden, the baritone of Porter. I listened for some time, unsure what I should do next.

He was going to... to what?
Recalling his fit body straddling me, I touched my fingers to my chest. The places he'd pressed against
felt
the same; that frustrated me, because I knew I'd changed somehow. Deep in my gut, a part of me had spread open, seeking what Drezden could bring.

And what's that?
I asked myself cynically.
A gigantic erection?
I wanted to laugh, but remembering how obvious his arousal had been made my insides go electric.

Trailing my hand down my stomach, I scratched the junction of my thighs where his cock had been rubbing through his jeans on me. The reality was too much for me; gingerly, I sat up and climbed from the tub.

I found my shirt, tugging it over my head. The mirror showed my pink face, my messy hair. Touching my lips, I wondered if he'd been thinking about kissing me. He'd forced me down, talked about testing if I could handle him and twisting my demand to be treated as an equal.

My whole neck burned as an idea occurred to me.
How many women has he been with? He's twenty-one, it could be a lot.
Thinking of the famous singer rolling around with tons of faceless women didn't help my mood.

Cracking the door open, I peered into the hall. The voices were still speaking, a friendly murmur towards the front of the bus. On unsteady legs, I darted out of the bathroom and dove through the curtain into the room I'd chosen. As alone as I could be on the bus, I dropped heavily onto my bed. My hands coiled in my hair, chin falling to my collar bone.

In a tight ball, I wedged myself into the corner where the frame met the wall. I wanted to shrink down, and at the same time, I wanted to go find Drez and press him to continue. I was itching to know what he would have done if we'd been left alone.

How could my life transform so much in one day?
I asked myself. When I'd joined Four and a Half Headstones, I was sure it would be the biggest change in my life.

Now, with the musky flavor of Drezden Halifax in my nose, and the imprint of how his hands had felt on my naked skin...

I realized I couldn't have guessed how big a change it would be.

Drezden

––––––––

I
'm such a fucking idiot.

Though I smiled and nodded, leaning on the bus seat so casually while I listened to Porter ramble, my mind was elsewhere. It rested in a porcelain bathtub, trapped by the amazingly stupid decisions I'd made.

I really am a giant fucking idiot,
I thought, watching Porter grin and pretending to chuckle at what he'd said.
How could I have let it go so far?
Lola had been challenging me in the bathroom. Then we'd ended up tangled together, her warm body searing against mine.

Tenderly, I touched the spot on my temple. I hoped it didn't bruise.

“Hey, hello?” Porter leaned in, waving his hand at me. “You alright Drez? You look out of it.”

You have no idea.
But I just gave him an apologetic frown. “Sorry, been a long day.” I felt like I'd lived a whole year in Lola's presence. One long, torturous year. How could I wake up and do it all again?

“You're right, it's been stretching.” Standing with a yawn, he cracked his back with several loud pops. “I might just go hit the sack, myself. You seen Lola at all? She left, and I didn't see her when I was outside with Colt.”

Thinking of Lola's nearly exposed breasts, I balled my fists in my lap. “She came back a while ago. I think she's sleeping already.”

Porter's forehead ran with wrinkles. “Huh. Alright then. She's probably more exhausted than all of us. It's been a crazy day for her.”