I planned on making good use of her rehearsal space later after everyone was gone.
But first, sleep.
I lifted the small compartment on the bike to slide my phone inside it when I saw a folded piece of paper inside. Frowning, I unfolded it. Block handwriting was written across the middle of the page.
I SEE YOU . . . AND HER
I looked around, knowing I wasn’t going to see someone hanging out waving and saying ‘Hey, I wrote the letter.’ Then again, it could’ve been there from the bar last night, since Bex had driven home, and I hadn’t opened the compartment. What the hell kind of message was that? ‘I see you . . . and her?’
I crumpled it up and shoved it back inside, pulling down the road. It was probably some jealous asshole that saw me with her or Stephanie before that. Who the hell knew. What kind of idiot left a note anyway? What was I supposed to do, shake in my boots? If they saw us, they got quite a show. I’m no exhibitionist but hell . . . if you want to watch, that’s your deal.
Stephanie. I’d left the bar without a second glance at her, and she’d probably been looking for me afterwards. Now I felt like a tool. I’d been an asshole because I was just going to use her for the night to get my mind off of Bex. Whatever, she knew nothing was going to go beyond sex anyway.
A small smile played on my lips as I thought of the firecracker I’d spent the night pleasing. Bex acted tough, ‘bitchy’ as she said. And yes, there were times when she was almost unbearable. But when I saw her tonight on the verge of panic and shaking in my arms, I knew there was so much more to her. All of that had come from me saying I liked who she was when she wasn’t trying to be tough. She’d started opening up to me. I may not know what it was, and I may never know, but what I did know was this: she and I were cut from the same cloth.
Sometime since last night (well, this morning) and now, Bex had changed her purple streaks in her hair to red. It was hot. Super hot. I tapped my foot on the floor as I listened to their new song, Not Me. Bex’s guitar was hanging from her. Ryver was the only one playing. She was gripping the microphone, her eyes closed and her lips pursed as the soft lyrics flowed from her lips.
This song was amazing. I loved their range between head-nodding rock and soulfully slow. I’d been sitting here for two hours, not moving, and I could sit here the rest of the night and listen to them. I wondered who wrote all of their songs and made a mental note to ask her later. This one would instantly become a hit. Bex’s gravelly voice singing so low it was almost whispering, the muted sounds of the band behind her, and the words to the song would really resonate with people.
“It’s not me,” Bex sang. “It can’t be. I’m not who you want, who you need . . .” Her eyes opened, and she looked right at me, taking the breath right from my lungs. Was she singing it to me? I felt naked and exposed as she continued to whisper the lyrics in my direction, her eyes never leaving mine.
I didn’t need her. I wanted her for what she fulfilled in me so I could function. Sex with her kept my brain quiet and my body sated.
“I’m broken, I can’t be fixed . . . It’s not me . . .” The chords of the song ended and Bex stared at me for one more long second before turning back to the band. “That was great, guys. Let’s wrap it up for tonight.”
“You fucking rocked that song,” Ryver said, coming up behind Bex and slinging his arm over her shoulder. I tensed, immediately shocked at my reaction. What the hell is your issue, man? Jealousy doesn’t suit you. I forced myself to relax.
She smiled. “Thank you. I think it’ll be a great song for the road.”
Tanner fist bumped her, followed by Beau. It was nice to see her like this; lightened up and happy. She was only this way while playing. I understood that.
Natalie stood up, walking up to them. She’d been sitting beside me the entire time, but we hadn’t spoken. “Fabulous, guys. Let’s take tomorrow off and then practice hard the rest of the week before we leave. I have to go check on the bus and all the scheduling stuff. See you later.”
Bex walked up to me, her guitar still hanging from her. I wasn’t sure which thing I wanted to touch more, her or the guitar. Maybe I could touch her while touching her guitar. “What did you think?”
She cared what I thought? “You guys are going to kick ass out there,” I said.
Bex nodded. “Yeah, we are. Thanks for coming to watch us.”
“It was my pleasure,” I answered. Wow, didn’t we sound like two normal individuals. Too bad that was so far from the case. “So, want to grab a bite to eat with me?”
Bex turned, waving to the guys as they walked out the door. All three of them were eying me. I didn’t blame them. When she turned back to me, the look in her eyes made me instantly hard.
“You want to have dinner and drinks? Really?” Bex walked to the door the band and Natalie had just gone out of and locked it behind them and then walked back to me.
As soon as she got close enough, I pulled her to me, her guitar hitting me in the stomach. “Let’s take this off.” My hands shook as I used the strap to lift it off of her and set it gently on the chair I’d been sitting in. I knew exactly how much these cost, and I wasn’t going to put one single scratch on her baby. “Now that you looked at me like that, Bex, I want to strip those jeans off of you and fuck you right here.”
“That’s kinda what I was hoping for,” she admitted, running her hand down my abs and resting on the button of my jeans.
“You didn’t get enough of me last night?”
She quirked an eyebrow up at me. “Enough? Did you get enough?”
I rubbed against her. “No.”
“Exactly.” Bex laughed. Her small hand undid my button and zipper and yanked my jeans down to my knees in one movement. “Sit down.”
She was bossing me around? I lifted my eyebrow in question. “Do it, Johnny.”
Bex took one step back and lifted up her shirt, tossing it behind her. My eyes zeroed in on her breasts spilling out of the low cut bra she wore. She reached back and unclasped it, letting it drop between us. I still hadn’t moved, but she could ask me to run to the moon and back and I’d do it.
She lifted her hands and cupped her breasts, her eyes boring into mine. She then ran her hands down her body to her jeans, pushing them down her legs and to the floor. She stood in front of me in just a hot pink thong. My dick was threatening to burst out of my underwear if I didn’t let him free soon.
“Fuck,” I hissed.
Bex stepped closer to me, brushing her nipples against my chest. My dick throbbed, begging for her touch. She took her hands and pushed my boxers down, springing me free. “Sit,” she demanded again. I wanted to grab her and put her over the back of that chair and tell her who was boss. But I couldn’t, so I sat instead.
“That’s a good boy,” she said. I watched as she approached. The small guitar dangling from her belly button piercing glinted in the overhead lights. The tattoo that I wanted to ask about wasn’t fully covered by her underwear. I wanted to tear those things off of her so I could taste her. There was nothing like tasting her goodness.
Bex dropped to her knees in front of the chair, lifting her eyes to look at my reaction. Oh yeah, she had my attention. “You always like to be in control, don’t you,” she said, her breath so close it was tickling the tip of my dick. Fuck yes. I want to grab your head and fill your mouth with me.
“In all things,” I forced myself to say.
She nodded in understanding. “Not this time. You’re in my territory.” I wanted to say that we’d been in her territory last night when I’d had her on all fours holding onto the bed, when I’d made her close her eyes the whole time I licked her from head to toe . . . but my brain cells weren’t firing correctly.