I Saw You (12 page)

Slim fingers squeezed around each breast. With force, she manipulated the flesh with the same intensity I now finger fucked her slick pussy.

“I’ve wanted to do this since we met.” Her eyes rolled back at my words. With my shoulders, I pushed her thighs further apart and settled between them. Entranced, I watched while she moved her hips in time with each thrust of my fingers. This close up, I became a prisoner of her essence. That sweet and musky smell of her pussy had me salivating.

There was no way in hell that I could wait another second to taste her. Fuck, no.

Removing my fingers caused her to whine, but I replaced them with my tongue. One long lick from the bottom of her slit to her swollen clit.

“Son of a bitch,” we cursed in unison.

A small rush of wetness coated my tongue, and I became crazed. Famished for more.

Thighs trembling beside my head, she fisted my hair in her hands and pulled. “Goddammit…so close. More.”

“Greedy little thing,” I grunted against the softness of her lips before taking another long lick up her slit.

“Don’t tempt me to finish without you.” Arianna’s threat was like dousing an already wild flame with gasoline. Dangerous. Grasping her hip with my free hand, I anchored her to the bench and dove in. “Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit,” she screamed as I worked her with my fingers and tongue—fucking pulsed with each flick.

I pushed two fingers deep inside her and held still. Her body trembled while her inner walls clamped down on my digits. Curling them up, I searched for that one spot that would make her toes curl.

Lose her mind as I’d already had over her.

“Give it to me,” I snarled against her slick flesh. Eyes wild, Arianna watched me, much the same way I never took my eyes off her. “Motherfucking come on my tongue.”

Her back arched, pussy grinding against my mouth. “Oh my God.”

I stopped all movement and held back. “Never say another’s name while I’m pleasuring you, sweetheart. Only my name. You worship my fingers, my tongue…my cock.”

With my fingers massaging her G-spot, I flicked her clit twice before taking the quivering bundle of nerves between my teeth and adding slight pleasure. Just a tiny bit, but it was enough for my Slim’s eyes to roll into the back of her head. For her juices to fill my mouth.

Arianna’s mouth opened in a silent scream while her tiny hands fisted my locks and pulled me closer. Used me—prolonged her pleasure, while I licked every last drop of nectar that flowed.

“Absolutely exquisite when you come.” It was the truth. Nothing would ever compare to watching her fall apart because of me.

I’d never forget this moment.

“What about you?” she asked through tired eyes. Body slumped against the shower wall, Slim eyed the outline of my very hard and painful cock.

“Once I get you situated, I’ll take care of it.” Standing up, I popped the button of my jeans and removed those.

“Can I watch?” Eyes wide, she stared—gawked, at my strained erection. She’d learn with time that I avoided wearing underwear as much as I could.

“Not this time…” I scooped her up in my arms and carried her out of the shower “…but, I’ll make sure to leave the evidence on the panties I tore from your body.”

“You wouldn’t.” She tried for stern, but her giggles won the battle.

“It’s a compromise.”

“How so?” The perplexed look was adorable.

“Can’t come on your lips, so I decided to defile something equally intimate.”

Eyes narrowed, she brought her hand up and flicked my upper lip. “You already defiled/tore them…wait, which set of lips?”

“Haven’t decided which set I want more.”

“That’s too bad.” She pouted, and I kissed those bee-stung perfections.

“Why’s that?” Setting her on the floor, I grabbed a towel off a nearby rack and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“Because
both
is always the right answer.”
Fuck me.

Whoever said that
falling for someone was easy needed to be slapped. How was this time special? Shit wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. She was there, and I was across the country, stuck inside a studio and missing the fuck out of her. Thirty days was just too long to go without seeing her.

A woman I barely knew, yet owned every single thought that flashed through my mind.

We didn’t live in the same city, much less state. Being home, and back at work, meant long hours and sessions. Hours merged and days bled into weeks. Most days I’d make it home with just enough time to crash for a few hours before waking up to do it all over again.

Loving my job had never been a problem until now.

Now I wanted more.

More time to spend with her while getting to know each other. More time to unwind and enjoy everything I’ve achieved. More time to just fucking be.

To those that spew all that hearts and flowers shit, I say “fuck you” and add in “bullshit” for good measure.

A crackle over the studio’s speakers brought my attention back to the present.

“That’s a done deal for track four. ” Our producer, Chaz Yeung, was one of the most sought out in the business and a good friend of my family’s. Better explained, he was my mother’s boyfriend.

They
thought no one knew about them.

They
were dead wrong.

They
weren’t as sneaky as they thought.

Not that I had a problem with it. My father passed when I was young, and I was happy to see her move on. Tell me, don’t hide it.

Beside me Tex rolled his eyes with a smirk on his face. “Personally, I thought we sounded like shit.”

“I disagree.” Our sound was cut off for a second, causing me to look up. Just in time too, since the fucker was putting away his phone with a smile on his face. Just nasty.

“Well, we don’t agree.” Never said I’d make it easy on him.

“Guys, let’s call it a night.” That came out somewhere between a whine and a sigh. On the other side of the glass, I watched as he raked a hand through his hair in frustration. Idiot. “We’ve been here since ten in the morning, and it’s past six now. If you still feel that way tomorrow, we’ll revisit the song,” he said all this in a rush, followed by a nervous laugh.

“Are you in a rush to leave, Chaz?” Beside me, the boys all snickered while shaking their heads.

“No?”

“Why are you posting it as a question?” Rick, who’d been quiet up to this point, decided to speak up. The boys had already begun to pack up; our instruments were staying in place. No one else used this studio but us; I didn’t rent space.

“I’m not,” he defended a little too quickly. “Just tired, guys. Give this old man a break.”

Enough of this shit.

“Chaz…” walking up to the wall of glass that divided the studio, I stopped in front of it and tapped the glass twice “…just say you’re late to pick up Mom and get the fuck out.”

“W-What?” he stuttered while the guys behind me exploded in laughter. It took everything within me not to crack the fuck up.

“Old and deaf…how do you expect me to approve of you taking care of her? I won’t have her playing the role of nurse.”

“You know?” His face had drained of all color.

Schooling my features, I gave him an annoyed look. “We all do, asshole.”

Shaking his head from side to side, he tried to explain. From here I could see the sweat form. “It’s not what you think, Chester—”

“That’s Mr. Greene to you,” I interrupted, and his eyes widened.

Standing up from his seat, he walked into our part of the studio and stood in front of me. “Please let me explain, kid.”

“Nothing to explain, old man. You fucked up when—”

“I love her.” And that was all I needed to hear.

“Then get the fuck out and go pick her up.” Two pats on his shoulders before I squeezed it hard. “Hurt her, and I’ll fuck you up.”

“That goes for me too,” Cris added.

“Me too,” Rick interjected with a smirk while cracking his knuckles

“What they said.” Tex shook out his arms while jumping up and down as if he were a hyped-up lunatic.

“Fuck you all.” With that, he turned around and left, not stopping to shut the equipment or the lights off. Dick. I’m sure my mother will be calling tonight—I expected her to. Too bad for her, she shouldn’t have hidden this from me. He earned the hard time with that stupidity.

“What about you, Cheetos? Heading home, or do you want to tag along and grab a bite to eat?” Cris asked while walking past me and toward the door that led to the producer’s area. He knew as much about the equipment as Chaz did.

“Nah…” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Have a Skype date with Slim tonight. It’s her day off, and we want to catch up.”

“Not tired of her yet?” Rick joked while following a laughing Cris out the room. It was the same thing every other day from one of them. I’d been back now from Miami a month and they’d been riding my ass for just as long. Even Rick—especially him. He enjoyed my misery and downright “male pms’ing.”

Yes, we had one of those. All men had days where we became the appendage we carried with pride. A man that denied that was a bitch.

“Fuck you.” After bestowing a double bird salute upon them, I began to help Tex pick up the trash. This week we’d been lazy. Food wrappers, empty pizza boxes, and beer bottles littered a huge section of the floor.

“We just like giving you shit. Seeing you smitten,” he said the word with a pained face, “makes us both feel happy and disgusted. It’s unnatural yet fitting.”

“Shut up and hurry.” I threw an empty water bottle at his head, nailing him square in the forehead. “Have a Slim to seduce before she knocks out for the night…” looking down at my clock, I realized it was close to nine her time. “Hate this time difference shit. “

“We’ll finish and then head out. It’s not much anyways, and the other two,” he said while pointing toward. Cris and Rick that were busy playing with the track we’d laid down this afternoon, “are otherwise entertained. Get out.”

“You sure?” My smile couldn’t be contained.

“Yes, you pussy.” And then a punch to the arm that knocked the few things in my hands out. “Tell that girl of yours
‘hi’
from me.”

“Thank you.” Not bothering to reply, I bolted for the door, startling the other two on my way out. The door slammed behind me, and I think I heard plaster fall. “Oh well.” Money meant shit if you couldn’t spend it on something useful. Seeing her lovely face tonight—even through a small screen—was worth more than the couple hundred it would cost to fix the damn wall.

Running down the few flights of stairs, I tore through the connecting exit and into our private parking garage. My car had been the closest to the door, a mere fifteen feet from me.

Quick click of the key fob in my hand and the doors were unlocked and the engine started. Within seconds I peeled out, and the cloud of smoke and rubber left behind were the only trace of my having been there.

The calming tones of a piano blared through my sound system as I made my way home. Our—her song played, and I smiled. It was nowhere near ready, needed a few tweaks from me—a line I wanted to add, but what was there, had to be my best.

Fuck that, it was.

Soft riffs from Tex on his acoustic followed, and Cris came in next. Rick did something he rarely did on this track; he sang my back up. Just on the chorus, but he had the kind of deep baritone that took the simple melody to a whole other level.

After punching in the code to open my gates, I pulled into my home and straight into the garage. Parking, grabbing my shit, and walking through the connecting door to my kitchen took minutes. Yes, I was timing myself. If all I had was an hour, I wanted to make every second count.

Slim was a dirty girl, and I needed to see her come once more.

It’d been too long.

I’m home. ~Cheesy

How she managed to convince me that it was cute—acceptable to call me that—I still had no clue. Nevertheless, motherfucker, she did. And it stuck. Not that I’d ever allow anyone else to call me that.

Rummaging through the mail I picked up on the way in, I paused against the island counter. A plain white envelope sat atop the rest. No return address and it was addressed to me. Not the band, just me.

Curiosity was a bitch, and I opened it. Inside, there was a simple note on an elegant stationary that said:

Are you ready for me?

Not signed.

Not paying it much attention, I set it aside and continued to go through the stack of letters. When we hit it big, I set out to be independent. Not a pampered asshole that needed his hands held at every turn.

I paid my bills.

I took care of the household maintenance.

I ordered my groceries to be delivered, because let’s be real; I couldn’t walk into a store and shop without being mobbed. It was part of the job, and I fucking loved my fans, but I was human and sometimes not the most sociable.

Setting the stack in my hands a side, I grasped the phone out of my pocket and checked to see if she’d texted back. Nothing. Arianna couldn’t have gone to bed; it was only half past nine.

We’d both been frustrated as of late with our lack of interaction. When I was getting in, she was asleep and vice versa. Our work hours were screwy at best.

You awake, Slim? ~Cheesy

I tried another message to see and if not, then I guess it was an early night. And then I waited…

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

“Fuck this shit,” I muttered angrily, stomping out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. Something had to give.

Upstairs, I removed my clothes—a trail from the top of the stairs all the way to my private bath. I’d pick that shit up tomorrow.

Turning the water on, I set it to almost boiling and walked over to my sink. On my face sat more than three days’ worth of stubble, and I needed to shave. Beside the sink, my electric shaver sat placed inside its charger.

BEEP…

A car horn in the distance, as if someone held their weight over it and pressed down for longer than appropriate. Annoying.

BEEP…

“The fuck?” Then, just as fast as it came, it went. Silence.

Not bothering in the least to check, I turned the shaver on and brought it up to my face. Cut a single hair when my door was being pounded on.

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

In rapid succession, the person on the other end made their presence known. They didn’t let up. No. Instead, each contact with the wooden door was louder. Harder.

“Son of a bitch,” I yelled out while coming down the stairs, towel haphazardly wrapped around my waist. “Coming!” At the sound of my voice the banging stopped, and what followed sounded a lot like the light clack of fingernails tapping against its solid surface.

What. The. Fuck.

Doubted it was a fan. To get inside my property, you needed the code at the gate. A set of numbers that very few knew: those being my mom, sister, and the assholes in my band. Not even Ashley had this password.

Not because I didn’t trust her, but because she had a knack for showing up unannounced. Interrupted me enough in the past when I was in the middle of entertaining.

Now, I knew better.

I liked wetting my dick in something tight as much as the next man did. Discreet, the few I’ve had over the past few years were acquaintances—in the same business—and knew the deal.

Get in. Fuck. Leave quietly.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

Monotonous and after a while, boring.

Beside the front door, I had an iron structure filled to the brim with canes. From wooden to stone, these were pieces I’d collected over the years from all over the world.

The one in particular I’d grasped before pulling the door open had a knife within. Large and sharp.

“Who the fuck…” was all I managed to say as the words died on my tongue. Not at all what I was expecting.

“Surprise.”