Derailed (Terminal Book 2) (9 page)

I set the dildo aside and lift her knees with my elbows and pound into her harder and faster than before. Her tits bounce feverishly on display in front of me as I thrust with everything I've got. Finally, my balls tighten and I call out as I come violently and collapse on top of her.

The sun comes up too early and I squint to look at the clock. I don't know how long she's been awake for. We lay together on the big fluffy pillow in the room. Lexi's head resting on my chest and her hand is idly tracing my tattoo. Mindlessly, I brush my fingertips over her back between her shoulder blades. I can feel her heart racing and she is sighing contentedly.

“You okay?” I ask, wanting to ensure I didn't fuck anything up for her – for us.

Shifting her weight, she brings both hands under her chin on my chest and smiles at me. I reach out to brush her just fucked hair out of her eyes. “I'm perfect,” she confirms and leans into my hand that is now cupping the side of her face.

“Pretty damn close.”

Shaking her head at me, she bites the inside of her cheek and leans in to press a kiss to my lips. I take the opportunity to flip her on her back and pin her arms near her head playfully. I kiss her back with open lips, plunging my tongue deep between her lips. Pulling back I take a breath and decide it's time to ask.

“Come on tour with me.”

She coughs on her saliva and blinks a few times. “I'm sorry, did you say to come on tour with you? Did I fucking hear that right?”

“You did.” I assure her and sit up, releasing her hands. Lexi follows my lead and sits beside me, leaning back on one arm. “I want you to come do the European tour with us.”

“For the whole three months? That's a long time, Des. I can't leave my grandmother for that long, she still needs me.” Lexi stands and walks toward the window. Hugging herself with one hand, she pulls back the curtain with the other and looks outside.

I stand and walk over to her. My hands run up and down her arms as if I was warming her up. I kiss her shoulder and pull her hair off to the side. “So you can't come for three months. Can you come at all? Do you want to?”

“I want to. I mean, I've never been anywhere but here. I could come for a couple of weeks but not tomorrow. I have arrangements to make. For work. For Grandma.”

“How about you come to Dublin? That gives you about four weeks, think you could pull that off?”

“I do! I really think I could!” She turns around and her smile is so big. “I think I can, I have vacation time and I can prepare Grandma for it. But I could only be gone for like ten days.”

My smile swallows up my entire face. “Ten days works perfect, and then in a couple of weeks or so you can come again.”

“I'd like that,” she whispers.

“Me too,” I whisper back before scooping her up in my arms and rushing to the bathroom to take a shower. Turning the tap on, I set the right temperature and help her in before stepping into the bath myself. With the warm water spraying over us, she pushes her hair back and blinks up at me with wet lashes. Dropping to her knees, the water beads down her face as she opens her lips and wraps them around my stiff cock. I hold her head with both hands as I fuck her mouth.

The water runs cold before we are finished playing with each other. Teeth chattering, we climb out and wrap ourselves in big fluffy towels before running back to the living room and laying on the big fluffy pillow with a warm blanket.

“So what time is your flight tomorrow?” she asks suddenly looking sad.

“First thing in the morning. We have to be at the airport at seven I think.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” I agree. Oh just covers it all and doesn't need anything else to accompany it.

“Am I driving you? I can if you want.”

“That would be great.”

We fall into silence. No words. No sex. Just us, and I don't want it to end.

Hours later, the car is parked in the passenger drop off zone at the airport. We're both turned to face each other with our fingers braided together. I have no clue what the fuck is going on but damn this is fucking painful. I don't want to leave her and travel across the globe. I might even miss her while I'm gone. Travelers rush past us trying to catch a cab or rush to their check in, all part of their own worry. No one aware of what we are going through in this vehicle right now.

“You've gotta go, Des,” she states quietly, unwilling to let go of my hand.

“I know.” I take a deep breath and sigh. “Yeah, okay. So I'll call you when I land.”

“Sounds good.”

I kiss her cheek and pull the handle on the car door. Turning to get out, she stops me with her hand. “Des, I don't fucking love you.” Her eyes are glassy and her chin is quivering.

I brush her cheek with my thumb and pull her mouth to mine. Kissing her like it's the last time I will ever kiss her. Giving her something to remember me by. When I pull away, I open my eyes and look into hers. “I don't fucking love you either, Lex.”

With a smile and a heavy heart, I climb out of the car and head straight to the back to grab my luggage. I raise my hand in a wave and turn back toward the airport, not looking back. I'm hoping she just drives away and goes to Siannon.

Checking my bags, I am escorted to the gate to wait for our flight. Landyn is already there waiting for me, and he's smiling. This is the first genuine smile I have seen in months on my cousin's face.

“What the fuck is up with you?” I call out before I sit on the bench beside him.

“What do you mean?”

“I MEAN why are you so fucking chipper?” I ask again, laughing this time. This is comical. He’s drinking some fucking whipped cream fru fru drink, and he's smiling. If I didn't know better, I would think he got laid last night.

“Siannon.” He licks some of the whip from the cup and places it on the table beside him, wiping his hands with a napkin from the coffee shop. “I went to see her, and she took me back! We have a ton of shit to work out, but we will.” He picks the coffee back up and takes another sip. “She's coming to meet us in London in a couple of weeks.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” This is hilarious. I laugh and scrub my chin with my hand. “Lexi is going to come and meet us in Dublin.” I slap my leg and prop my foot up on the opposite knee. “Holy fuck, Lan. We're a couple of walking vaginas, bro.”

This makes Landyn laugh and nod in agreement. “That we are, Des. That we fucking are.”

From out of nowhere comes Micha's laughter, and it's close. Both Landyn and I look up towards the gate entrance and there stands Micha, shaking his head and laughing at us. “Aren't you a couple of sorry muddafuckas?”

Landyn and I both flip him off while he joins us in the chairs. The area is beginning to fill up and people are starting to recognize us. It's too early and I really don't want to deal with that shit, so instead I shove my ear phones in my ears and listen to music. Micha and Landyn continue having a very animated conversation, but I stay in my head with Lexi.

What. The. Fuck.

Chapter 15

“FUCK!” I yell. I lost my beat again and can't keep the rhythm. This song is a pain in the ass and I'm really not into it right now. “Landyn! Fuck! Can you please pick a fucking tempo? You change it every fucking time you sing it!” I throw my sticks to the ground and stand up quickly, tipping my stool in the process. I grab my head with both of my hands and pace the floor.

“Des, calm the fuck down,” Landyn calls to me from the sound booth. “This is the last song, Des. THE LAST FUCKING SONG. Then we're done! A couple of days, then Wembley. Fucking WEMBLEY STADIUM!!!”

“We've been working on this last fucking song for three days, Landyn! THREE FUCKING DAYS!” I pick up my stool and sit back down in a huff. “Can we pick a fuckin’ tempo?!” I'm beyond frustrated. Tim is trying to convince Landyn to sing it in a fast tempo. Landyn originally approached us with a slower, sexier tempo. “Lan, this song is sexy as fuck, tantric is better,” I call out and place the ear piece back in.

Tim, one of our many on the management team, turns and presses the speaker button. “Desmond, really now. You're going to have a fucking tantrum over a song? We need to get this one done. Can we wrap it today please?”

“Hey, Tim!” I call out while readjusting my posture.

“Yes, Desmond.” Tim glares at me through the glass, and I flip him off blowing him a kiss. He's a fuckin’ douche. I see how he stares at Siannon and I don't fucking like it. He never does it when Landyn is around. I want him to get busted. Tim and I have a mutual hate/loathe relationship, and Lan would just think I am still trying to get the guy fired. I mean yes, I do every fuckin’ chance I get, but he needs to put himself in check and stop being creepy to the women on the team. Landyn leaves Siannon in the booth with Tim and walks across to do his vocals. The minute he goes, Tim is leering at her and I want to grab him by the throat and show him the door. Now I have to finish this right in a couple of takes so Lan can get back to his girl and get her the fuck out of here.

He had better not pull that shit with Lexi.

I glance at Micha, who shrugs at me, most likely wondering why steam is coming out of my ears. Shaking my head, I position myself on my stool and begin the countdown to start over. I pick up the tempo just a bit, and it seems to work much better. Now the song doesn't feel like either a quick fuck or a long winded marathon session. Instead it sounds like making love, and it's still sexy. Landyn smiles and begins to sing.

The moment we finish the song Landyn flies out of the booth and high fives Micha before coming to me and pressing his forehead to mine. “We fuckin’ did it, cuz!”

“We sure as fuck did, now take your lady out of here and go celebrate before the next show.”

Clapping my shoulder, he kisses the top of my head and rushes to the sound booth to get Siannon. Before we are even aware of it, they both rush out the door, much to the chagrin of Tim. He looks like he ate something that tasted horrible.

“What's up, Tim,” Micha calls while unplugging his gear and sliding his guitar into its case. “You look like you need to shit.”

I burst out laughing and pull out my cell phone to shoot Lexi a text.

ME: It's a wrap!

LEX: Congrats baby!

ME: When you get here, stay the fuck away from Tim okay?

LEX: Who the fuck is Tim?

ME: A douche.

LEX: Sounds like a cool guy.

ME: Cool as ice.

LEX: It's 7:30 am, do not make me start singing.

ME: LOL

ME: What are you wearing right now?

LEX: A strap-on.

ME: REALLY???

LEX: No.

ME: Well shit. I wanted pics. :(

LEX: Did you just pouty face me? Desmond Charter, you're a girl.

ME: Shut it.

LEX: LOL

ME: I don't love you, Lex.

LEX: Ditto. See you in a few weeks. Dublin! Can't wait!

ME: Pack light, you'll be naked the whole time anyways.

LEX: You got it! Talk to you later Des.

ME: Later.

Fuck I miss that chick. Tucking the phone into my pocket, I scoop up my coat and step between Micha and Tim, who are in the midst of a serious conversation. “Ready?” I nod at Micha and roll my eyes as Tim drops his hands to his side, making then clap.

“Yeah, let's get out of here. Too much fucking drama in this room.” He picks up his coat and we walk toward the door. Turning back, he calls out, “Hey Tim, while you're here why don't you go jump in the fucking Thames or something,” and flips Tim the finger to really drive the point home. Turning back, I throw my arm round Micha's shoulder and shake my head.

“You like him too, huh?”

“Can't fucking stand that prick.”  He agrees with me and we step out into rainy London. Hailing a taxi, we head back to the hotel for a day of rest. As we climb into the back seat, the rain starts sheeting down and the windows begin to fog. Micha tells the driver where we are going as I stare out the window thinking about Lexi.

“Micha?”

“What's up, Des,” he responds quietly.

“I think I've fallen for that chick Lexi.” I continue looking out the window at the people with their umbrellas, walking casually not worried about getting wet.

“You fell for her weeks ago. You just didn't want to admit it yet.”

I close my eyes and drop my head against the window. “Well... fuck.”

Micha chuckles beside me and we ride the rest of the way in silence.

* * *

Tonight we played Wembley Stadium without much of a hitch. It was amazing. I remember when we were kids, Landyn and I used to hang out in the basement. Lip syncing with tennis rackets and broomsticks to Billy Idol pretending to play Wembley Stadium. Back then I was the singer and Landyn rocked a mean air guitar. I even had the fucking lip curl down to a science. Every day was a nice day for a white wedding. Look at us now. Our own songs, our own music, our own fans that don't include the neighborhood girls we attempted to impress with our sexy ways.

Chuckling, I walk onto the empty stage as the roadies are taking down the lights and moving the rows of seats on the floor before us. It's hard to believe that just two hours ago there were thousands of people here screaming for Terminal. I rub my chin and look around soaking it all in, storing it in my memory bank. I played fuckin’ Wembley Stadium. Amazing.

The instruments are being removed as I step on tons of paper confetti all over the black stage. The wires have all been removed and rolled up ready to go. Landyn, Siannon and Micha left a while ago, but I needed to stay to soak it in. Sitting on the edge of the stage, my feet hang and sway as I look from one side to the other in awe.

Lost with my thoughts, I don't hear the stage hands calling for me to move until this older man approaches and taps me on the shoulder. “So are you gonna move anytime soon, or can we take our dinner break?”

I blink a couple of times and shake my head. “Oh yeah, sorry. Just kinda –” I push myself off the stage and walk down the aisle toward the doors pulling my jacket around me and stuffing my hands in my pocket. Tonight I decide to walk back to the hotel, it's clear and the streets are empty. I just want to stay with my thoughts and not lose this feeling before I have to.

An hour later I arrive at the hotel doorstep, I was stopped a few times on the way to pose for pictures and sign a couple of autographs from people who were kind enough to let me have my space. Not everyone is satisfied with just an autograph back home, this is a welcome change.

I stop across the street and gape at the scene outside the hotel. The police are there in full force holding back the crowd with barricades. I can't go there, I'll be bombarded with fans and be very lucky to get past the security. Pulling out my phone I call Tim, I really don't want to call him but I have no option at this point.

“Hello, Desmond. What the fuck do you want?”

“I see you missed me too. Look, I'm walking away from the hotel there's some major fan shit going on out there.”

“Why did you leave in the first place?” Tim asks, obviously unaware of my decision to stay behind at the venue.

“Tim, I just need help getting back in. Can you send a car for me?” I keep my shoulders up and my head down in hopes of not being recognized. I walk back about a block from the hotel and sit on a bench watching the scene. Makes me extremely thankful for the kind fans I met en route tonight.

“Yeah where are you?”

“Thanks, about a block down on High Street, by the Curragh. There's a little park there.”

Tim sighs into the phone. I can tell I have put him out but this is what he signed up for. Evan won't travel so it's on him. “Ten minutes.” He hangs up on me and I wait for the car. With every moment that passes the crowd grows and spills closer to me. The noise level is getting crazy, and I am extremely lucky no one has stopped me on their way past.

Twenty minutes later a car slows on High Street just across the street. Rolling down the window, the driver calls out in a thick English accent. “Pardon me, sir, are you Mr. D. Bag?”

D-bag. Are you fucking serious? Standing I nod my head in disbelief and release an exacerbated sigh. “Yes. I am Mr. D. Bag,” and mutter how much of a bastard Tim is under my breath.

“Come on then. Let's get you home, right?” He reaches out the window and opens the passenger door for me. Gratefully I climb into the backseat and close the door behind me. “Let me guess, you thought it would be quiet here, aye?”

“Yeah.” I sigh and drop my head on the seat behind me.

“Sir, may I suggest when you get to play Wembley and you fill it that you don't assume the fans don't know where you are staying. You should check out twitter once in a while. I know that you are with that band, what was it again, Terminal? Your manager told me that you were being a right twat tonight and chose to find your own way.”

He continues on his lecture as I close my eyes and try to ignore him. I feel like a moron, but he's right. I should've left with the other guys. Moments later we are pulling up to the police barricade and they look inside asking for identification. The screaming fans should be ID enough. They are satisfied with who I am and wave the car through to the door. The concierge is waiting to escort me into the building. Rushing out of the car, I am swept into the lobby and directly to the elevator that takes me to my floor.

Reaching my hotel room, I open the door and take off my boots. Dropping onto the bed, I cover my eyes and swear that I will never do something so stupid again during this tour. Especially when Lexi gets here, I can't risk anything happening to her.

Pulling out my cell again, I dial her number back home. She's probably still at work but I know she will take my call no matter what.

“Hi, Des!” Her voice is refreshing. I can hear her thanking a co-worker away from the phone. I can only assume she is leaving the floor and getting someone to cover for her. “Did you do it?”

“Hi, baby. Yeah, we played Wembley. I still can't believe it, babe.” My arm covers my closed eyes as my mind goes back to the thousands of fans singing along with us. “Broken”, “Lust and Craving”, and “Sinner”. “It was fucking amazing. I just wish you could've been here for it.” I admit. Fuck I miss her something fierce.

“Not much longer, babe. Three weeks-ish.” I can hear a door click and I know she has closed a door for privacy. “I'm seeing Grandma tomorrow and telling her my plans. I’m introducing her to the girl who is going to help her on Fridays with all the things I help her with, and next week the girl will come with me so everyone can figure our shit out.”

“Sounds like you've got it all figured out,” I say to her, sitting up and scraping my face with my free hand. I turn to look at the mirror on the bureau and I can see that even though I'm tired as hell, I look happy. Satisfied. I walk closer to the mirror and take a look at my eyes, pulling the lid down, sticking out my tongue and looking in my mouth, my teeth.

“So I fucked up tonight, Lex. It could have been bad.”

“What happened, babe?”

“I walked from Wembley. Took my time coming back to the hotel, soaking it in y'know.” Walking to the window I can still see the hordes of people out there. “This is what I came back to.” Opening the window all you can hear is them singing “Sinner.” I smile and hold my phone out so Lexi can hear them.

Bringing the phone back to my ear she's laughing. “Oh, my GOD, DES! That is fuckin amazing! You're like Michael Jackson!” She laughs even harder.

“Michael Jackson. Really, Lexi? Jesus.” I laugh. “Couldn't say like, Bono or Bon Jovi? You had to say Michael Jackson. Hang on I'm gonna say hi to them.”

I lean way out the window and start waving. The singing slows as the crowd looks up at my window. I pull my phone away from my ear and hold it out. They start screaming and calling my name, finally realizing who I am. I know it's pointless to try to talk to them as they won't hear a goddamn word I say anyways. Climbing back in the window I chuckle and Lexi just keeps repeating, “Holy shit, Des. Wow!”

“It's pretty fucking amazing, babe. I wish you were here experiencing this with me. I fucking miss you.” I sit at the uncomfortable chair in the corner and turn on the reading lamp on the table beside it. I drop my elbows to my knees and let my head fall with my confession.