“I was about to give birth to him when they realized he was in distress. They rushed me in for an emergency C-section, but it was too late. They tried resuscitating him for almost thirty minutes, but he was gone.” She pushed the sheet down so I could see her flat stomach. “My tattoo? It’s covering my scar.”
I crawled over to her and traced my fingers along the minute scar, then the baby’s breath flowers that I now understood. Goosebumps broke out on her skin as I touched her. “What was his name?” My voice was low, whispered.
“Gibson,” she whispered back. I smiled. Of course his name had been Gibson.
“So every time you play, you play for him,” I said.
Bex’s eyes met mine. One lone tear escaped her eye and traced a path down her cheek. I wanted to reach out and wipe it away, but it deserved to stay there. It was a hard earned fucking tear. “Yes,” she said finally.
I laid behind her and pulled her to my body. My heart beat in rhythm with hers as I ran my fingers through her hair, down her arm, and around her waist. We didn’t say another word, our gentle touches telling each other everything we had a hard time expressing.
Bex reached over the table, holding out a strawberry. I wrapped my lips around it, taking a bite while my eyes stayed linked to hers. She smiled, scooting her chair closer to me and leaning over for a kiss.
When I opened my mouth and transferred the piece of strawberry back to her, my dick jumped to attention when she groaned. We were staying in Atlanta for a few more hours before getting on the road to head to Chicago and then to Colorado. We were in the hotel room, both of us having woken up discombobulated over our sharing fest last night.
I hated to admit how much I liked it, being here with her and talking to her about shit. I’d slept for three hours uninterrupted by nightmares. I think that was a record.
Before I could think any further of being buried in her sweet pussy, Bex stood and straddled me, guiding my always-hard dick into her wet heat. “Johnny,” she moaned, throwing her head back. That put her ample chest in front of my face, and shit, I was a guy. Wrapping one arm around her back, I pulled her closer and took a nipple into my mouth. She lifted up and down, sinking completely on me and rocking back and forth.
“Fuck, Bex. You’re so fucking tight.” She leaned down, and I thrust my tongue into her mouth in the same rhythm my dick was inside of her. She gripped my shoulders as she rode me harder and kissed me fiercely.
“Harder,” she said into my mouth. I gripped her hips, pushing harder and faster. Within seconds she was tightening around me and I shot into her, watching her breasts bounce from the force of our lovemaking.
Lovemaking?
What the fuck did I just think?
She stood up and my dick missed her immediately. “You’ve ruined me for anyone ever again,” she said, her hot gaze scanning me up and down.
“You got that fucking right,” I said, reaching my hand out to touch her wetness. “I’m the only one that gets this pussy.”
Her face became serious, and I wondered what I said. “Johnny?”
“Yes, Bex.”
“What are we doing?”
I smirked. “Right now? I’m getting hard again, so we could be doing it on this table if you want.”
She shook her head. I didn’t like the serious look on her face. “No.”
“No? You don’t want my rock star?” I stroked myself and her gaze immediately snapped to my growing member.
“I want more,” she whispered, then immediately covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide.
Bex
He was frozen, his eyes locked onto mine. If I looked closely, I bet his dick was shriveling up and crawling inside his body at my statement. Fucking shit, what did I just do? You’re a goddamn moron, Bex. You can’t have ‘more’ with anyone! Johnny doesn’t want more, remember? But he came here, right? He came to Atlanta and we told each other some of our past. That means something, right?
I was losing my mind. Someone commit me now. First I told the guy I’d been fucking that I wanted more after being adamant with him that neither of us could want more, and now I was arguing with myself. Certifiable.
I had to fix this. Now. I was okay with just having sex with him. That could be enough for me. It was all I’d ever known, so why try to break the mold now?
“Johnny,” I said. “For—”
I couldn’t even finish my thought before Johnny was on his feet and his hands were on my face. I fought to not close my eyes at the sensation I loved. “Holy fuck,” he said softly. My heart was going to jump out of my chest and land at his feet. I was screwing this up. I’d never see him again after today.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, a lump in my throat keeping me from projecting my voice. “I didn’t mean it.”
“You didn’t?” His thumbs were now stroking my cheeks. I could feel his breath against my lips, and my body ached for him. “Well, that’s a fucking shame, Bex.”
What was a fucking shame? That I wanted more or that I didn’t? “W-what is?”
He pressed his lips against mine in the softest kiss I’d ever received. “I want more, too,” he echoed my statement. “I don’t have a fucking clue how to do that, but I do, Bex. I thought fucking you was going to be enough for me, but it isn’t. We’re a powerhouse in bed together, but I want all of you. Every part of you that made you who you are today and who you will be in the future.”
I was dreaming, right? This man that I’d tried to be a total bitch to and push out of my life was standing here saying exactly what I thought I’d never want. But I did. I wanted it. I wanted him.
I lifted my face and we kissed again, moving our lips gently against each other’s. I felt him stirring against my belly, and I reached down and stroked him softly. He lifted me, his tip teasing my wet entrance as he carried me to the bed.
“I’m not fucking you,” he said against my lips.
“What? Why?” I writhed, wanting him, needing him.
“There’s plenty of time for that,” he said, reaching down and guiding himself gently into me. It had never been like that with us. “We’re ‘more’ now, right? So this is ‘more’ than just fucking.”
He twined his fingers with mine and moved inside of me, his eyes never leaving mine. This time, it was my heart that exploded.
“Dude, I can’t fucking believe it,” Tanner said, smacking Johnny on the back. We were on the tour bus, all of us sitting around the small living area on our way to Chicago. “You must have a magical dick.” Ryver snorted, holding his nose as the soda he was drinking came out of it.
We all roared with laughter. I felt my face flush. “Fuck all of you.” I tried to stop smiling but it didn’t work. Johnny laced his fingers with mine, squeezing gently. We’d come so far in the twelve hours since we admitted we wanted ‘more’. We still weren’t sure exactly what that meant, but we were going with it making us feel good.
I looked over at Natalie, who hadn’t stopped grinning since she found out. “We’re so happy for you,” she said. Beau nodded, though he hadn’t been as vocal about his support. I got it. He’d seen me at my absolute lowest, and I knew that opening myself up to someone could be catastrophic for everyone around me, but mostly for myself.
“On that note,” I said, standing up and pulling Johnny with me. “I’m going to bed.”
“Oh no,” Tanner groaned. “Anyone have earplugs? I can’t listen to these two rock the bus for the next six hours.”
“I meant to sleep,” I said, smacking Tanner on the back of the head.
“Suuuure,” Ryver said, still wiping soda from his nose. “You forget how many hotel rooms we’ve heard you in.”
“Fuck all of you again,” I said, but they knew I didn’t mean it. There was laughter in my voice. Johnny and I echoed goodnights to the rest of the band and shut the door behind us.