Taming the Storm
Page 64
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And when I do, he lets out a sound of absolute male satisfaction.
Hand palming the back of my head, he starts fucking my mouth, uttering, “Yeah. That’s it, baby. Suck me hard. Jack me off with your mouth.”
So, I do as he asks.
After I’m finished giving Tom his blow-job apology—my mind still echoing with his ragged, heated praise of how good I am, how amazing my mouth feels sucking him, how beautiful I am—he gets down on his knees and gives me a lot more than the three wishes I earned in that camera-free elevator.
One Week Later—A Festival, Lexington
Another week has passed, and throughout the week, true to his word, Tom has carved out time to take me to stores, so I could buy new T-shirts. Shopping with him has been surprisingly fun. And I’m starting to build quite the tour T-shirt collection.
Also, a day hasn’t gone by when Tom and I haven’t had sex. And it’s not just once. Two, three…four times.
Tom just goes and goes. I’m surprised I can still walk.
Around everyone else, including on the bus with the guys, Tom and I act normal, as if nothing is different. But when no one’s around, we spend our alone time together, naked.
On the night after our elevator escapade, once the guys were sleep, Tom spent the night in my bed on the bus, teaching me how to have sex silently. Not easy when you’re as vocal as I am. But I sure had fun learning.
Every time I have sex with Tom, it feels like the first time. I’m not sure what it is about him, but he brings out a side of me that I didn’t know existed.
Daring and willing.
I will pretty much do anything he asks, no matter the time or place.
He’s fucked me in more positions than I knew possible and some I didn’t and in places I didn’t think I’d ever have sex. He really wasn’t kidding when he said he could be inventive.
We’ve had sex in a coat closet at a club, the fitting room in a store, a restroom in a restaurant, and another one in a club we played. He had me up against a tree behind the back of a rest stop. But the strangest place was…in the luggage compartment of the tour bus.
Seriously, don’t ask. I have no clue how that even happened.
That man could talk my panties off while sitting at dinner with my family.
I can’t say no to him, and I don’t want to.
I like the way he makes me feel, and it scares me exactly how much I like it. But what scares me the most is when Tom comes to my bed late at night when the bus is sleeping, and we have slow, deep…and what feels to be meaningful sex.
If I didn’t know better—at those times in the dark of the night, our bodies tangled up together—I could almost believe we’re making love.
But I can’t think that way because to do so will only get me hurt.
Tonight, we’re in Lexington, Kentucky, and we’re playing at an outdoor festival. The festival has been going since we arrived mid-afternoon, and we’re scheduled to play at seven for a thirty-minute set.
It looks to be our biggest crowd yet, and I’m excited to get up onstage.
Tom has been in a weird mood since we arrived, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. He’s not being himself, and he’s been cold and distant with me.
All afternoon, I’ve wanted to ask him what is wrong, but I haven’t been able to get a moment alone with him.
I have no clue where he is now. I haven’t seen him since we were in the dressing room, which is actually a trailer that we’re sharing with Star Point Five, a vocal band made up of five girls. Each girl is gorgeous in her own right. I think Cale, Van, and Sonny thought they’d died and gone to heaven when they saw who we would be sharing a dressing room with.
And one of the Star Point Five members is a standout. Aurora Simmons is tall and blonde with average-sized—meow—boobs. She’s a standout because she’s Tom’s type…and I know he has slept with her in the past.
No, he didn’t tell me.
I saw how she looked at him when he stepped into the trailer behind me. She looked him up and down, and her expression held a familiarity that said she knew what he looks like naked. She knows what it’s like to…be with him. What confirmed it was how she shrieked and practically knocked me out of the way to get to him. Then, she planted a kiss on his mouth right there in front of me.
It stung like a bitch, but I swallowed past it because he’s not mine to lay claim over.
We might be exclusive fuck buddies…but we’re just that—fuck buddies. I have no place to bitch-slap her and tell her to get the hell off him even though I really, really wanted to.
I knew Tom was uncomfortable with her kissing him because he not so politely extricated himself from her. He left soon after, and then a minute later, I got a text from him that said one word.
Sorry.
I didn’t reply because I didn’t know what to say. So, I put my cell away and let Shannon work her magic on making me look pretty for tonight.
Now, I’m ready, and I’m standing on the side of the stage with Cale and Van, watching Emerson, a very cool heavy rock band. Sonny is off somewhere. I’m guessing he’s with some chick.
We’re not due onstage for another hour, and I’m starting to think these five-inch heeled boots Shannon talked me into wearing might not be the best idea as my feet are starting to hurt already. Looking down at them, I see that a buckle on the front of a boot has come undone. I bend down to fasten it, and then I hear a mighty rip!
Fuck.
I instantly slap my hand over my ass, and I feel the massive tear right up the back seam of my denim shorts, which Shannon had to practically stitch me into earlier.
Hand palming the back of my head, he starts fucking my mouth, uttering, “Yeah. That’s it, baby. Suck me hard. Jack me off with your mouth.”
So, I do as he asks.
After I’m finished giving Tom his blow-job apology—my mind still echoing with his ragged, heated praise of how good I am, how amazing my mouth feels sucking him, how beautiful I am—he gets down on his knees and gives me a lot more than the three wishes I earned in that camera-free elevator.
One Week Later—A Festival, Lexington
Another week has passed, and throughout the week, true to his word, Tom has carved out time to take me to stores, so I could buy new T-shirts. Shopping with him has been surprisingly fun. And I’m starting to build quite the tour T-shirt collection.
Also, a day hasn’t gone by when Tom and I haven’t had sex. And it’s not just once. Two, three…four times.
Tom just goes and goes. I’m surprised I can still walk.
Around everyone else, including on the bus with the guys, Tom and I act normal, as if nothing is different. But when no one’s around, we spend our alone time together, naked.
On the night after our elevator escapade, once the guys were sleep, Tom spent the night in my bed on the bus, teaching me how to have sex silently. Not easy when you’re as vocal as I am. But I sure had fun learning.
Every time I have sex with Tom, it feels like the first time. I’m not sure what it is about him, but he brings out a side of me that I didn’t know existed.
Daring and willing.
I will pretty much do anything he asks, no matter the time or place.
He’s fucked me in more positions than I knew possible and some I didn’t and in places I didn’t think I’d ever have sex. He really wasn’t kidding when he said he could be inventive.
We’ve had sex in a coat closet at a club, the fitting room in a store, a restroom in a restaurant, and another one in a club we played. He had me up against a tree behind the back of a rest stop. But the strangest place was…in the luggage compartment of the tour bus.
Seriously, don’t ask. I have no clue how that even happened.
That man could talk my panties off while sitting at dinner with my family.
I can’t say no to him, and I don’t want to.
I like the way he makes me feel, and it scares me exactly how much I like it. But what scares me the most is when Tom comes to my bed late at night when the bus is sleeping, and we have slow, deep…and what feels to be meaningful sex.
If I didn’t know better—at those times in the dark of the night, our bodies tangled up together—I could almost believe we’re making love.
But I can’t think that way because to do so will only get me hurt.
Tonight, we’re in Lexington, Kentucky, and we’re playing at an outdoor festival. The festival has been going since we arrived mid-afternoon, and we’re scheduled to play at seven for a thirty-minute set.
It looks to be our biggest crowd yet, and I’m excited to get up onstage.
Tom has been in a weird mood since we arrived, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. He’s not being himself, and he’s been cold and distant with me.
All afternoon, I’ve wanted to ask him what is wrong, but I haven’t been able to get a moment alone with him.
I have no clue where he is now. I haven’t seen him since we were in the dressing room, which is actually a trailer that we’re sharing with Star Point Five, a vocal band made up of five girls. Each girl is gorgeous in her own right. I think Cale, Van, and Sonny thought they’d died and gone to heaven when they saw who we would be sharing a dressing room with.
And one of the Star Point Five members is a standout. Aurora Simmons is tall and blonde with average-sized—meow—boobs. She’s a standout because she’s Tom’s type…and I know he has slept with her in the past.
No, he didn’t tell me.
I saw how she looked at him when he stepped into the trailer behind me. She looked him up and down, and her expression held a familiarity that said she knew what he looks like naked. She knows what it’s like to…be with him. What confirmed it was how she shrieked and practically knocked me out of the way to get to him. Then, she planted a kiss on his mouth right there in front of me.
It stung like a bitch, but I swallowed past it because he’s not mine to lay claim over.
We might be exclusive fuck buddies…but we’re just that—fuck buddies. I have no place to bitch-slap her and tell her to get the hell off him even though I really, really wanted to.
I knew Tom was uncomfortable with her kissing him because he not so politely extricated himself from her. He left soon after, and then a minute later, I got a text from him that said one word.
Sorry.
I didn’t reply because I didn’t know what to say. So, I put my cell away and let Shannon work her magic on making me look pretty for tonight.
Now, I’m ready, and I’m standing on the side of the stage with Cale and Van, watching Emerson, a very cool heavy rock band. Sonny is off somewhere. I’m guessing he’s with some chick.
We’re not due onstage for another hour, and I’m starting to think these five-inch heeled boots Shannon talked me into wearing might not be the best idea as my feet are starting to hurt already. Looking down at them, I see that a buckle on the front of a boot has come undone. I bend down to fasten it, and then I hear a mighty rip!
Fuck.
I instantly slap my hand over my ass, and I feel the massive tear right up the back seam of my denim shorts, which Shannon had to practically stitch me into earlier.
