Revelry (Taint #1) (16 page)

“What are you doing?” I ask just as quietly.

“Distracting myself.”

“Cooper,” I protest but his hands slides across my thigh to my pussy and I take a sharp shuddering breath.

He presses his lips to the shell of my ear and whispers, “Let me do this, please. It’ll take my mind off of flying, just for a few minutes. Please?”

The man is practically begging. I mean, I couldn’t really say no.
Could I
? Apparently my rabid vagina makes the choice for me because Cooper cups his hand over my pussy and it practically swallows him whole. Mercifully, he doesn’t venture beneath my yoga pants, and I’m glad for it. The feel of his flesh on mine right now would probably undo me completely.

His fingers press against my clit and I open my legs wider for him. “Would you open your legs so readily for my cock, Ali-Cat?”

I don’t answer because I’m incapable of answering, I’m flat out trying to hold my shit together and keep my face schooled into a bored-to-neutral expression so as not to alert anyone around us to the fact that he’s getting me off on an airplane.

Cooper sweeps his fingers over my clit in a circular motion. My lips part, my heart hammers against my ribcage, and heat creeps up my neck and spreads over my cheeks. I’m so damn turned on, and it’s been so damn long since any man touched me there, that my orgasm builds within seconds. My nipples are aching to be touched, bitten, sucked, and licked. All of me is aching for more of his mouth and hands. I wet my lips, imagining his cock inside me, filling me, pushing into me over and over with beautiful, torturous pleasure. Cooper’s stroking speeds up, my breathing does too, and then I come. Hard and fast against his hand, and it’s so mind-shatteringly good that he has to muffle my quiet cry of ecstasy with a fake cough.

“No fucking way,” Levi murmurs. I open my eyes as the last of my orgasm spreads through my body, making me limp, and causing another sharp breath to squeeze from my lungs. “Jesus Christ that was hot, Red.”

“Turn around, Quinn,” Coop hisses quietly.

“Do it again,” Levi commands.

“What?” I ask, and there’s a protest on the tip of my tongue, I swear there is, but his fingers find me again and I jerk involuntarily. Trying to squeeze Cooper’s hand from between my thighs right now seems kind of pointless.

“Coop,” I pant, though I’m pretty sure at this point it’s not so much a protest as it is a cry for more. I’m still sensitive. Too sensitive. Coop leans in and snags my earlobe between his teeth and with the press of his fingers against my swollen flesh, I come again.

“Fucking incredible,” Coop whispers in my ear.

“God I wanna taste her right now.” Levi growls and my eyes snap open to glare at him.

“Never going to happen,” I whisper, when I’ve caught my breath.

“Never say never, Red,” Levi says, as he jumps up from his seat. “I gotta go knock one out.”

I bury my head in my hands. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“What? You didn’t enjoy it?” Cooper asks.

I give him a look. “Well obviously I enjoyed it. Jesus, Coop, that can’t happen again.”

“I’m pretty sure it could.” He smirks. “In fact, we should totally just go for the trifecta, the holy trinity of orgasms.”

“Stop talking.”

Deb’s voice rings out from across the cabin. “I won, so pay up motherfuckers.”

“You didn’t win,” Ash says.

“It’s on a plane and he made her come, more than once.”

“The bet was sex, Deb,” Zed says. “Do you need me to remind you of the difference between finger banging and a deep, hard cocking?”

Oh my god.
Did the entire plane hear me come?

“Will you three please shut up?” I hiss. I’m mortified that not only was it obvious to Levi, who was sitting right in front of us, but also to the rest of the passengers.

“Is there a problem here?” the stewardess asks. She’s not the one who Coop promised his guitar to—it’s the other one. The unpleasant one who told me I couldn’t board with the band.

“Nope, no problem,” Cooper says.

“I’m going to have to ask you to keep the noise to a minimum,” she says, looking at each of us in turn with her no nonsense school-teacher expression. Of course this makes us all laugh, because apparently the six of us are just big children. “You’re disturbing the other passengers.”

“It won’t happen again,” Cooper says, and he ducks his head to hide his smile. He doesn’t do it often, and when he unleashes his grin, it’s … wow. I’ve never been one of those girls who’s struck dumb by beautiful men, but staring at that grin makes me think I’ve never really seen a man worthy of rendering me an idiot, not the way Cooper Ryan is worthy. He catches me staring and then he’s smiling for an entirely different reason.

“You know, I could get used to flying with you, Ali-Cat.”

I don’t bother to tell him that I could get used to having his hands on me, or that right now, in this very moment, I want to travel on all of the airplanes with him, every flight he has to take for the remainder of his life. I want to be on those beside him, if only to feel his hands on me again.

Jesus Christ. Snap the fuck out of it, you stupid whore
. He gives you two orgasms and suddenly you’re gonna give him every flight for the rest of your life? Wake the fuck up, Ali. He’s a rock star, and you … you’re just … someone who hasn’t felt the adoration in a man’s touch for far too long. This is not a big deal. It is not a thing. Nor will it ever be a thing.

“I think we should make a bet of our own,” Coop says, leaning in to whisper in my ear. He gently squeezes my thigh, and it’s only then that I realise his hand has been there the entire time.
How did I not feel it burning my flesh?

“I don’t think we should even be talking right now, let alone making wagers.” I take his hand from my leg and let it fall into his lap, but he slides it between my legs once more and presses in hard against my clit.

“One week and I’ll have you naked beneath me, your legs wrapped around my hips as I drive into you and you sink your nails into my back.” He nips at my ear as he says this, his hand working me over in slow circles again. “One week, Ali-Cat, and I’ll be seated balls deep inside you, and you’ll be screaming my name as you come.”

“And if I’m not?” I pant and lick my lips as he strokes me faster. “If you’re not inside me? If I’m not sinking my nails in your back and screaming your name? What then?”

“Then I walk away. I leave you the hell alone.” He stops his stroking, forcing an involuntary gasp from my lungs.

“I hate you so much, Cooper Ryan.”

He chuckles. “No, you really don’t.”

God damn him, he was right. I have a lot of feelings swirling around in my head right now, but none of them are even remotely close to hate, and that frightens me more than the prospect of losing this bet.

“Fine,” I agree. “I win and you leave me alone. You win and you get … what exactly?”

“You, Ali-Cat,” he whispers, leaning in so that his breath washes over my sensitive flesh where my shoulder meets my neck. “I get you.”

I
could have kissed the ground when we touched down at LAX. Vanessa had arranged for minders, because apparently our fans had camped at the airport. Like all celebrities flying into LA, we hadn’t been able to bypass any of that fucking huge headache. Paparazzi were everywhere. Screaming fangirls were everywhere, and everyone else stopped to wonder what the hell was going on.

We were used to fangirls, but nothing we’d seen so far had come close to this kind of hysteria. Barely dressed women hung over the barriers separating us from the fans, their tits practically falling out of their tiny T-shirts. Mothers and their teenage daughters were throwing panties at us, and while that was nothing new on stage, it was a whole other level of creep factor during daylight hours at a fucking airport.

The other guys took it in their stride. Levi, of course, played up to the cameras. Ash was the first of us to head straight for the car, and Zed had escaped the minders, allowing himself to be pawed at as he took photos with several young fans. We autographed photos and body parts while the roadies collected our gear and then we were whisked into two waiting SUVs. I wanted a shower, a real bed, and yeah, a recalcitrant redhead. Surprise, sur-fucking-prise. I wasn’t getting any of that though—once we’d all filed into the two separate cars, our drivers had taken us to a hangar more than halfway across the airport where three tour busses awaited us.

“From one moving death trap to another,” I mutter, as we pull up beside the giant black busses.

“Al-fucking-right! That’s what I’m talking about!” Zed says, jumping out of the car before the driver can even open the door.

He throws his arms wide and hugs the fucking bus, our new giant white Taint logo plastered on the side of the bus while Zed’s orange flames lick out from around it.

“Coop, come here and look at this shit,” Zed says, and I step up beside him. He throws an arm over my shoulder and shakes his head. “We fucking did it, bro.”

I nod. “Yeah, we did.” I feel this overwhelming sense of pride because despite all of the setbacks, and the countless hours we spent dreaming of this moment, dreaming that our little band could one day be as big as this, it takes a minute to process. Fame isn’t new to us, but fame on this scale? That’s an entire world away from where we’ve been.

“It’s a thing of beauty, man,” Zed says, and his voice is tight, constricted, as if he’s suppressing tears. “I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you. You know that, right?”

“Sure you would,” I say automatically, but he looks at me and his expression is so genuine, so full of life and so fucking vulnerable all at once, I know that saying anything to counter his words won’t be the truth.

The truth is, Zed was given a gift at the same time that he was handed every fucking obstacle life could throw his way. He was a sick, weedy little kid with a junkie mum and an absentee father. He singlehandedly took care of his family, and stole whatever food he could without getting caught in order to eat.

I think my mum took pity on him and Leif. She didn’t mind the extra mouths to feed, and she miraculously always had clean clothing in their size lying around the house. Sometimes they even had the tags still on them. The Ryans had never wanted for anything, but the Atwoods? Their childhood had been tough. Zed had always been a musical genius, but he lacked discipline. If he didn’t have someone to follow, he’d likely be wasting his life under a bridge somewhere in a coked-up high.