Rockstars F#*k Harder (5 page)

“Drew!” she shrieks, but it’s breathy as she laughs at the change. “What’re you
doing!
”

A few steps later and I’m in the bedroom, dumping her onto the overstuffed comforter and pouncing on top of her. Pinning her, I grin down at her. “Taking you to bed, what’s it look like I’m doing?” My head swoops down to her neck. I hadn’t had time to mark her earlier today and I’m overdue, so I suck and lick and bite, reveling in the blossoming dark marks I leave.

I work my way down to her breasts, enjoying the taste of her warm, wet skin, lapping at her nipples before sucking hard. She’s squirming beneath me and I can’t help how much I enjoy it, her hands once more tangled in my hair, her tugs to my scalp when the pleasure becomes too much.

“Guess I should show you how a good client rewards his manager.” The thought of feeling her bare makes me throb again, almost painfully. Fuck do I want to feel her hot, wet pussy with nothing between us. But as much as the idea of possessing her so completely drives me wild . . . I don't want to push this limit.

Maybe if she begs me, sure, but until then? I'd wear a condom.

I slide it on in a hurry, using a hand under each thigh to lift her legs higher as I position my cock. I want to take her fast and deep and this position will give me the leverage I need.

Gritting my teeth, I guide my shaft into her pussy. It hugs me tight, choking my cock and making my brain tingle. My stomach is a hard knot, as hard as my cock. No one has ever felt as good as Lucy.

“Do you like your reward?” I manage as I thrust hard again and yet again. She claws at the comforter desperately. It’s hard to keep my focus on her face, on her cries as I continue fucking her, but I enjoy it too much, hearing her and watching her lose herself to me, to the pleasure, watching her drown in how good it feels.

Lucy writhes beneath me deliciously and I know I won’t last much longer. “Wanna feel you come,” I gasp.

Her pussy flexes—like it wants to obey me.

She finally comes with a wordless, animal cry, convulsing around me fiercely. I'm lost to the white heat of pleasure that becomes my world for a few short, blissful seconds that never end. There are fingertip sized bruises on her hips from how tightly I held her.

With a pained grunt, I slide free. We both take note that the condom didn't break this time, and neither of us mentions the elephant in the room that is how it broke once before. Lying there on the sweaty blankets, I trace the bruises I created. "Did this hurt?" I ask.

"No, it was hot," she laughs.

Curling her against me, I enjoy the shape she makes. Our bodies fit together naturally. I didn't know people could even begin to sync so perfectly. Lucy has clicked into my life like she always belonged. Like she was part of my past and present.

And my future?
I wonder, stunned by my own line of thought. For a second, Veronica enters my mind. Not in a good way, certainly not out of regret or missing her. But my ex makes me think about how I thought I knew what love was, and how the reality is . . . I had no clue.

Until now.

T
here’s just
something about northern Washington. It’s so lush, so green, plus the little cabin I bought several years back is close enough to Seattle that I can get out when I’m going stir crazy. I feel like I channel the grunge vibe there, and that’s exactly the feel I want for what’s currently waiting to be set down. I’ll admit I’m looking forward to it more than usual. The thought of months of creative time punctuated by sex with Lucy sounds pretty much like paradise.

Unfortunately, Lucy isn’t exactly cooperating with my vision of the next few months as I finally bring it up.

“You need to network?” I say, not muting my frustration. I had a plan, dammit.

“Yes.” She nods as she hooks on her bra. We’ve just had sex, this time in the tiny office the venue provided Lucy at her request, and she’s working on putting herself back together.

I just watch. It’s always a pleasure seeing her so disheveled, sweat sheen, mussed hair.

“Keeping in contact with everyone involved in your personal empire is my job,” she continues, “Besides, my contract only requires I go on tour to act as your road manager—there’s nothing in there about being at your constant beck and call.”

“I know you don’t
have
to go.” I frown. Lucy is clearly entrenched on this one, and I know how stubborn she can be. If she’s made up her mind that she won’t go, then she
won’t
. I understand, I really do, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it. “I was just hoping you might
want
to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she sighs out. “It’s just that I have work to do. Like managing your career. You know, that thing you’re paying me for?” She’s got her skirt on and is in the process of buttoning her shirt. As usual, the reverse strip tease just makes me want to take it all off again, but I know we don’t have time.

“You can do that from anywhere,” I push.

“Not really, especially when I’m just starting to establish relationships on your behalf. Being on tour has made it difficult enough. I need this break to get things in real order, Drew, and you need me to do that.”

“Fine. Then you have to visit at least once."

She’s twisting her hair up into one of those intentionally messy buns, strands hanging loose to help mask the mess I’ve made of her neck. Turning to me, lips pursed in thought, she walks to where I’m still lounging naked against the desk, stopping just in front of me. Lucy places her hands on my shoulders and leans in for a quick peck to the lips before dancing back teasingly. I manage to get in a swat on her ass before she escapes. "I’ll consider it, if you’re
nice
.”

“I’m always nice.”

She starts to roll her eyes. I lunge at her, catching her in my arms and kissing her until we're both on the verge of blacking out. "Just promise me," I say.

She's panting heavily, cheeks glowing. "Okay. I'll come."

My smirk is sharp. "I know, I meant about the visit."

Laughing again and shaking her head, she slips away from me. "Now you're being too much." She hesitates, her lips folding at the corners. Something makes her eyes a little wet; is she sad? "I'll see you soon." Then she's out the door, acting like her usual tough self. "Stay out of trouble!"

I'd certainly try.

* * *

B
efore I traipse
off to Washington, I decide to take a detour to see my sister, Sadie. She's got a few kids and there's nothing funner than playing the cool uncle. I have the time, and with so much new stuff going on in my life, I think it might help clear my head.

Sadie has stayed in Vegas all this time, she still lives in the house where we grew up. The place is tiny, a crackerjack box of a mid-century tract home lined up with dozens of such houses in rows. It’s no longer painted the garish salmon it had been when we were kids, but it still instantly brings back memories.

The cement walk has seen better days, but she keeps the garden impeccable. My sister has always found a certain solace in nurturing living things, where as I found my refuge in music.

Part of me loves that she’s raising her kids here where we grew up, that I can always come home, but I’d still love to see her settled somewhere nicer. Sadie deserves better than to live in this run-down neighborhood, in the house she bought from Mom and Dad on the cheap. I’ve offered to buy her something bigger a hundred times, but she won't have it. Sure, she lets me buy things for the kids and has even let me set up a college fund for them, but she refuses to take my money otherwise.

She’s our parent’s kid, really, proud and self-sufficient even though she struggles to raise two boys on a teacher’s salary, her douchebag ex long since fled the scene.

It’s been months again since I last visited, just before the tour started, so I immediately feel like a shitbag when she opens the door with a surprised smile and bone crushing hug, kids clinging at my legs and squealing their excitement for “Uncle Drew, Uncle Drew.”

She pulls back then, looking up at me as she holds my shoulders, blue eyes searching. “I thought you were taking a creative break? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s great. Just wanted to see you guys.” It’s the truth. The past month has been fantastic, it really has. It’s got me thinking a lot, losing Colin, finding Lucy, got me considering what’s important, and family is one of those things. I’m here on a mission. “Anyway, since I’m in town, I thought we’d all take a trip to that indoor amusement park they put in on the strip. You game?”

Looking to the kids, who are both squealing, “Please please please,” her sigh marks her defeat. “Yeah, sure, let me just—get the boys ready.” There are questions lingering in her voice and in her face, but I ignore it, and thirty minutes later, we’re on the strip and in the park.

I enjoy time with Sadie, we’ve always been close, and Gabe and Jack are good kids. But they’re nothing like I was at that age even if the little one looks just like me. I was a pain in the ass, into everything and defiant, while my nephews live and breathe for their mom, and somehow, the asshole gene hasn’t been handed down from their sperm donor and they’re actually good-natured and smart as hell. Even if they tend to ask too many questions.

It’s been a good visit, a great visit, though I have to admit I miss Lucy. I’ve just gotten so used to having her around, and I can’t help but think she and Sadie would get along.

My last night here, Sadie decides to drag me out. She’s gotten a sitter for the kids and insists we have a night on the town, just the two of us, just like the old days when we used to sneak to the local dive bar with a few bucks and a fake ID.

The bar is still a dive, a squat little brick shithole off the strip, neon sign only half lit. Walking in is like walking into my past. Same juke box, same red pleather booths and cheap stools, same dusty shelves and worn bartop. As we take a booth, the same one we used to frequent, I spot my initials where I’d carved them over a decade ago.

It doesn’t take long for me to get hammered as we drink and reminisce.

“So," she says, "saw you in the paper last month. Girl standing next to you after the Denver show was pretty, who is she?”

I take a swig of my vodka because I’m really not ready to talk about Lucy. “My manager. Why, you interested?”

“Fuck off, Drew,” she says, punching me in the arm. She isn’t gentle; she never is.

“Hey, you asked. Figured you were looking for some action.”

“Maybe I just thought you’d grown up and found an actual girlfriend. It’d be nice to have some nieces and nephews someday.”

“You have the kids, I’ll stick to being the one with nephews. Tried the girlfriend thing if you remember. Didn’t work out.”

It’s her turn to take a swig of vodka. My ex, Veronica, had been her best friend, after all.

“You tried it once.
Once
. When you were sixteen. Wouldn't kill you to give it another shot.”

“I actually ran into Veronica the other day,” I say. “Actually, she showed up outside my trailer and hit on me.”

“Seriously?” Sadie sounds surprised. “Maaaaaan. I mean, I heard she kind of went off the deep end when her husband left her for some eighteen-year-old he hooked up with, but that’s pretty damn pathetic, to throw herself at you like that.”

“Didn’t even realize she was married,” I respond. I really don’t care, either, but at least it explains a few things.

“Oh, yeah, she met him spring break her last year of college. Heir to some sort of used car empire in upstate New York. Heard the wedding was completely over the top. Ice sculptures and live doves and whatever. Big fat lot of good it did her.”

“Yeah, well, as long as she leaves me out of it, she can have all the damn ice sculptures and used car salesmen her heart desires.”

There’s a pause. “I’m honestly surprised she bothered. I mean, you told her you wanted nothing to do with her years ago.”

“You know how people get about the fame shit. Whatever. She’s gone now, and I think I made it clear she’s not fucking welcome. Anyway, who gives a shit about her?”

“I’m not the one who brought her up,” she says with a smug little smile. “
Someone
was deflecting. So. Your love life?”

“Mom and Dad bugging you about finding someone again?”

Her shrug says it all, but she adds, “About
you
finding someone, too. They want more grandkids. And it wouldn’t hurt you to visit them once in a while, Drew. You know Mom drives Dad nuts when she has no one else to nag.”

“Look,” I say between swigs of my drink, “if they want more grandkids and you’re so damned concerned, you’re welcome to provide.”

Rolling her eyes, she shuts up and orders another drink.

After that, we just talk about the old days, which is much better, and then we make the old bet about who can drink the most without losing their shit. As she always had back then, my little sis drinks me under the table, and I wake up on her couch with a wicked hangover having dreamt of Lucy and I together, Lucy and I having the family my sister had nagged me about.

It’s by no means an unpleasant dream.

* * *

A
few weeks later
, I’m holed up in my Washington cabin, trying to work out lyrics for a song that’s been haunting me for the last few months. It’s about Lucy—not sex with her, but about who she is. It’s good, but not quite right, and I find myself wishing she were here so I can soak up inspiration from her, so I can make it everything she deserves.

I make do with a phone call.

“Oh, hi Drew. I was just getting ready for a working lunch." Her voice has an uptick, like she's excited to hear from me. "What do you need?”

“You,” I say, keeping my voice low and husky, just the way I know makes her hot.

Her tone drops; I'm getting to her. “Well, you know I have a lot of work to do.”

“I know exactly the kind of work I need you to do,” I chuckle. My cock is already raging, I grab it and sink into the couch. "You sure you can’t make it down this weekend? I’d make it worth your while.”

“I wish. I really do."

"Guess what I'm doing right now?" I growl, rubbing myself harder. The short inhale she makes on the line tells me she's figured me out. "Can you picture it? Me jerking myself off, thinking of you?"

She whimpers; I hear her settling in her chair, fidgeting. “Another time, Drew, I promise, I just have a lot to do. I’m having some problems with a couple of the venues for the next leg. They don’t want to let us in as early as we need, and negotiating that has been a headache.”

I'm frustrated with how professional she keeps things, steering our conversations away from what we both know we want—each other.

“So if not this weekend, when are you coming to visit? You’re my manager. I need to be managed.”

“I’m not sure, Drew.” The soft way she breathes my name is addicting. “We just got settled in our new offices here and I have so much to do, I really wish I didn't. I think hanging out with you would be better, honestly.”

That comforts me, but it doesn't make my dick any less rock hard. "Next time I see you, I'm sticking those excuse making lips on my cock. Got it?"