Letting Go (Rock Romance #6) (3 page)

“You're just playing, playing, playing,

and then an image or something will come into your mind,

and basically you're just narrating it with music,

letting it move along.”

- Edie Brickell

“Your nerves are starting to get on mine, Avery. Calm down, if anyone should be jumping out of their skin with excitement it should be me. I mean, Zepp is in the same building as we are and you don’t see me stepping on your heels, do you?”

“Sorry, you know how I get its either overly excited or ill because of nerves. I’m preventing hives here, any second I might start itching. I can’t believe I didn’t think about the possibility of this happening, you know this happens to me. Why didn’t you remind me? I would suggest you bring your boyfriend instead of me.”

“You’ll be fine, just breathe in. It’s just a concert after all. Shayne isn’t my boyfriend and you damn well know it.”

“I don’t think he’s aware of that Rad. In his head, he’s your man.”

Avery is talking about Shayne, a platonic friend since childhood. We’re more co-workers than friends anyway, he and I work with disabled children and adults. Helping them have a somewhat independent life, depending on their medical disabilities. We grew up with one another, same school, lived on the same block and both wanted to work in the same field. Ironically he and I both ended up with jobs at the same private company, a position at a company that’s highly sought after. They only hire twenty applicants out of hundreds each year, providing the best care available in our area.

I know that Shayne has a tendre for me, but I’ve never once encouraged or spoke of it and we get along just fine without broaching the subject. Whenever I do think about it, which is only when Avery brings it up, it makes me uncomfortable. Because he and I work together most days than we don’t. We usually end up working together, because retirement homes or rehabilitation homes will hire us through our company.

As a matter of fact, the only time I don’t work with him is when I spend time with Rush. She’s my client only.

“Why are we talking about Shayne again? I’m beginning to think you’ve got a thing for him, since you’re the one always mentioning his name.”

“I was just bringing to light that in his head you and he have something and you could’ve asked him out on a date to join you here tonight.”

“I would’ve gone alone if you couldn’t have joined me. Tonight is the night where I’d rather have my best friend and sister with me for courage and support than a guy who’s sporting an unreturned crush.”

“Shh…the girl over there is saying something.”

She was with Natalie earlier outside of the venue, before we went to our seats.

As directed, once the concert ended we ran to the rear exit staircase leading backstage, where we would wait to meet Steele’s Army.

The concert was…exhilarating. I tried concentrating on the music, only to find myself daydreaming of meeting Zepp. The daydream proceeded to become a fantasy where I would tear his clothes off and give him the best screw of his life, right before I kissed him hard on the lips and walked away.

“Continuity gives us roots; change gives us branches,

letting us stretch and grow and reach new heights.”

- Pauline R. Kezer

Abagail instructs us to line up against a wall, that has a backdrop of our band logo. A camera faces us, a photographer stationed
behind it. One by one each fan gets their photo taken with us, standing beside their own favorite and has us sign whatever it was they brought with them to the show. Some ask us to sign body parts, not that I’m usually against it- as long as the body part isn’t completely exposed when I’m signing it. Sometimes they’re kids at our shows, not that I approve of a child attending a concert that is certain to involve mosh pits, depending on what songs we choose to perform.

As the line goes on, each person who approaches us begins to look like the last. Appearance’s blend, until not one person stands out. That is, until her. Until she approaches us, with another female that resembles her. Her cherry red hair blazes with the flash of the camera, her emerald green eyes torture me. Seeing right through my outward shell, her eyes read me and I don’t like it. At all.

She stood next to Liam for the photo, her friend, or maybe relative stands near Ryan. They remain respectable about their limbs, not trying to force an unwanted touch. Liam asks Cherry if she’d like him to sign anything for her, she cowers, her eyes looking to the floor….she’s shy? I can’t hear what she’s saying, because she’s mumbling her reply. Her friend approaches me, catching me full on staring at her friend.

Embarrassed to be caught, I look at Cherry with disgust, curling my lip up in distaste so as to not show how much she’s ensnared me. She’s caught my undivided attention. Nothing more that I can do other than offering her a reprieve from actual life, offering her a small escape from life. Casting my eyes to the little one who’s interrupted my gawking, “Hello.” I greet her quietly.

She holds out her hand, “Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Avery. I’ve wanted to meet you guys forever, my sister over there,” she says pointing in the direction of Cherry, “has wanted to me you for far longer than I. She’s your biggest fan, but don’t tell her I told you that.”

“I wouldn’t dream of speaking a word to her about it.” I chuckle.

She laughs too, “Seriously, she’s been to many of your concerts but hasn’t ever had the chance to meet you. This is a dreams of hers, that’s about to come true.”

“That’s great.” What else can I say? There are a lot of people who’ve dreamt of meeting us, sadly we can’t meet everyone in the world. It’s impossible. I wish we could, even if it would take me out of my comfort zone. Meet and greets are hard enough, everyone always asks personal questions to which they feel entitled an answer to. It’s always awkward when I refuse to answer, sometimes they’ll accuse me of not caring about their fans, namely them and other times they’ll just switch topics.

“She’s headed your way, I’ll let her do this alone. See ya around Zepp.” She says in a familiar tone before running off to introduce herself to Jason.

“Nice shirt.” Cherry says, her voice nothing but smooth silk. Her tone glides over me, causing shivers down my spine. I could listen to her read the dictionary, all night, every night.

Control yourself, offer an escape.

“Uhh…thanks, I guess.”

“That was an amazing show you put on tonight, I’ve never seen anything like it. The emotion you’re always putting into every single note you play or sing.”

“Music is an outlet, one that’s always worked for me. I put every feeling I have inside of myself into my music. All of us do, I believe, maybe that’s why we’ve been so successful. Not a lot of artists immerse themselves in their songs and share it with the world without shame or embarrassment. Fuck, some that do share themselves always deny it after its ben made a hit. They don’t want people to know that their human too, that they feel just as you.” I shut my lips.

That was too much information. I can’t remember a time where I’ve lost control of what I was saying, the truth fell from my lips so readily without censor. This isn’t a good thing. I should walk away from this Cherry red temptress now.

“What song of yours would you say has the most of you revealed in it?” She asks studying my reaction.

I shouldn’t answer her, I should ignore it tell her it was fantastic meeting her and walk the fuck away. Fast like, slow jogging her effects on me away.

Stupid me though, I can’t resist, I need to know what she’s going to say in reply. I just have to know. “Persevere.” I say before throwing my censor in place.

She throws her hand on her chest, over her heart, my eyes chase her hand. She’s wearing a V-neck shirt that fits her curves perfectly, her hand sits atop attractive cleavage. I look back into her eyes, so she doesn’t catch me drooling over her breasts. Her green eyes gaze at me with surprise, her pink glossed lips curl into a smile. She’s fucking beaming at me.

All because I told her the song that reflects me personally?

I did this to her? I put this happily serene face on her? Who is this woman?

“Tell me, what’s your name Cherry?”

The looks stays in place, and if it’s possible her smile gets bigger.

“I’ll tell you my name, if you tell me why that song reflects you.”

Here it goes. Escape time.

“Well, there’s a long ass line behind you and it could probably take me well into the night to tell you how that song is mine, how it’s me. Why don’t you wait for me after this? We could talk some more, before we had to leave. Sound good?”

She cowers again, eyes downcast to the floor. Looking at everyone and at everywhere except for at me. “I mean, if you don’t want to you don’t have to.”

She looks up, “Radisyn. I’m Radisyn.”

As she walks away her hand brushes against mine, her touch jolts me. Her touch ignites flames that I haven’t felt, ever.

“Life certainly points it out to you -

'you can go this way or the other way.'

You have to decide and it's a very strong decision because,

would you sleep well knowing that you're living in the best place,

but you're letting the place where you should live alone?”

- Gael Garcia Bernal

Meeting Zepp shook me, to my core. I’ve dated in the past, nothing ever ended up being serious to where I was choosing my dream wedding ring or wedding dress. I never thought about what my dream house would look like or if I wanted children. No one ever made me feel that way, no one made me believe we could ever have a future.

Meeting him was more than I had expected, I thought I would’ve had to fight for his attentions. That I would’ve had to do something drastic, fake a heart attack or maybe just jump on him like a crazed lunatic. After giving both ideas deep thought I realized both of those actions would cause me to have to leave, if I faked a heart attack I would have been surrounded by on hand paramedics until an ambulance arrived and if I jumped on him security would’ve thrown me out.

There was no other option other than just being myself. If being me didn’t attract him, then he just wasn’t worth attracting anyway. That’s how I had to look at it. All night I had hopes but after standing in line waiting to finally meet him, I had an epiphany. I was worth everything, I would be a gift to someone, the right one and if he was my right one, then he would see my worth when we met.

He saw all right.

He still sees, a little too clearly.

We couldn’t have been seated as far away from each other as we were right now. All I wanted to do was make my way over to him to continue our conversation, but security wouldn’t like that and I’d be thrown out on my ass.

“You’ll be safe right.” Avery whispers in my ear after I tell her of my and Zepp’s conversation.

“Of course I’m going to be safe. I’m not going to be here all night, I’ll call you as soon as I get home. Drive safe, I love you.”

“Love you too.”

I watch Avery walk away. She’s an amazing sister, it’s always been her and I against the world. A team, always having each other’s backs with whatever happened.

“Ready to continue our conversation?” Zepp’s guttural tone whispers along my neck, his breath blowing hot on my skin. I urge to turn my head so I can taste him, but I don’t want him to view me as another groupie. Just another fling looking to fuck him because of who he is.

Instead, I hold still and reply. “Sure, how long until you have to leave to the next show?”

“We’ve got a few hours. Come on.” He says reaching for my hand and pulling me along. We go through a maze of halls at the fast pace he’s set. I wouldn’t be able to make my way out by myself when I leave. How long has he been here? To have mastered every single hallway and know his way around a place as big as this.

“Your choice, the bus or a hotel room.”

“The bus is fine with me. Show me your home.”

He leads me out an exit that meets a parking that’s full of busses, vans and trucks, most likely all with Steele’s Army. Still holding my hand he leads me to his bus, opens the door and pulls me in.

“Gage, Jason, join Ryan and Liam on their bus for a few would you?” He asks passively. Not really giving them a choice.

They smile at me, nod their heads and walk out.

“Want a drink?”

“Sure, what’ve you got?”

“Water or whiskey, take your pick.”

“I’ll stick to water.” He opens the refrigerator and pulls a bottle of water out before leading me to the couch and sitting right beside me. “So tell me about the song, how does it reflect you? I have to tell you that took me a bit of guard. Out of all the songs you guys have out, you had a lot of choices. You could’ve chosen any one of them, you could’ve lied and chose one of your less meaningful songs. Instead I believe you told the truth, you picked the deepest song.”

He hands me my water before answering. His eyebrows scrunch in thought, contemplating how to answer me.

“I’m not going to go into too much detail, but it’s one of the few songs I’ve written that ended up on our album. It tells of my life, my turmoil and how I feel.”

“But it’s so sad, it’s a devastating song. I can’t listen to it without ending the song wiping away tears.”

“Guess my life is sad then. Care to change that?” He asks flirtatiously.

How can he do that? Go from being serious, talking about himself to switching topics and being light hearted. Like he didn’t
matter.

“How could I make your life better than sad and dreary?” I daringly ask.

“You could help me escape from the sadness. Escape together, with each other.”

I gasp.

He’s being more direct than I thought he would be. It didn’t once cross my mind that we’d come to this road tonight. That he would ask that of me so soon, unless he thinks that’s the only reason I joined him after dinner. That I only wanted him for one thing.

Fuck.

Shit.

Fuck.

What to do?

I turn my body toward him so our knees are touching, “Escaping sounds…nice but you have to know that’s not why I came here with you. I’m not a groupie out to chase after your success or what you could do for me. I came here for you, just you.”

His mouth opens and shuts, hesitating to speak.
How do you like that for direct?

“That thought never crossed my mind, I mean normally it always does. No one wants to have sex without strings tying my wrists. With you though, I guess I forgot about it. About groupies. I didn’t think of you that way.”

“I guess that’s out of the way then. Where will we be going for our escape?”

I look away, fearful that he’ll be able to read how anxious I am, to feel him, to taste him.

His hand slides up my neck slowly, fingertips meeting my jaw and guiding my head to face him. He pulls my face to his, I pause mere millimeters away from tasting him. I close my eyes and breathe him in, this moment I will never forget. I’ll never forget his scent, a spicy wintergreen, or the way his fingers feel holding my face.

Safe.

Valued.

Worthy.

I open my eyes, to find him lost in me.

“It’s just an escape.” He says more to himself than me.

His lips slam into mine, his hand working its way to the base of my neck, pulling me to him. I meet his lips, his demand then my demand. His tongue glides along my lips, slowly tasting me. He moans.

I open my lips to meet allowing entrance, he delves his tongue in, sweeps my mouth with all of him.

In between kisses he shifts me so that I’m sitting on his lap, my knees pressing into the sides of his thighs. My clothed sex meeting his clothed sex. I purposely grind myself against him, rubbing against his hard ridge as I kiss him back with pouring every single emotion I possess into him.

He pushes me back, his eyes like flames searing my flesh as his takes in every ridge and imperfect crevice that makes up me, as he pulls my shirt over my head. He removes his shirt, my eyes are met with toned pectorals and abdominals, my fingers trace each muscle, every inch of his skin worthy of my touch. He shivers and goose bumps rise on his skin. Am I affecting him this much? As much as he is me.

He reaches his hand behind me and unlatches my bra, a skimpy blue number, not the best choice if I knew I would’ve been in this position earlier. I had set out with the intention that he want me, not that we would actually get this far.

Self-doubt rears its ugly head as he removes my bar, my hand automatically goes to cover my breasts. Most women feel that it’s when they remove their panties their true selves are revealed, that it’s the moment they expose who they are. For me, it’s my breasts. A metaphor like the eye being the window to the soul, my breasts are mine.

Insecure in their size, more than a handful or two for the only other man I’ve been with. Zepp attempts to move my hand but I don’t budge. My breathing is rushed, overworked with emotion, I hesitate.

“You’re beautiful, you don’t have anything to be ashamed and I’d love to continue but if you don’t want to I would be okay with that too.”

I draw my arm back slowly showing him myself. His eyes never leave mine. I can’t help but to meet his lips, again and again. My breasts smashing against his chest, my sex grinding against his roughly. We need a bedroom.

Suddenly he reaches his hands around my ass and holds me to him while standing up, he carries me through the bus to a wall of beds. I land on the bottom bed, he sneaks his hands upward to undo the button of my jeans. He looks to me, asking permission, I nod my head while biting my lip.

I need this.

I need him.

He slides my shoes off, then pulls my jeans and panties down with on tug, his hands spread my knees apart.

“Fuck, you’re soaked. Can I taste you? Please say yes.” He begs.

“Y….yes.”

His tongue slides from my entrance to my nub then back down again. He inserts his tongue inside of me, in and out in place of his cock. One hand comes up to massage my breast while the other rubs at my clit. Each thrust of his tongue, flick of my nipple and rub at my clit build at the plateau for an orgasm. Soon I come crashing down around him, and he licks it all up.

“I need to feel you.” I moan out.

He strips himself of his pants, his cock spring free and at attention, all for me. Out of nowhere he has a condom in hand and rips it open, he guides it down his thick shaft.

“Slide in.”

I scoot myself in, so that I’m laying horizontally on the bed instead of vertically. He climbs over me, placing his knees in between mine. His arms curl up underneath my shoulders, his hands grip my shoulders as he slides into me.

His eyes hold mine, the intensity of his look and the feel of his cock reaching depths that have never been felt by me are overwhelming. My limbs begin to tingle as my body begins to shake. One of his hands grasps my neck as he guides me to kiss his lips, raw from the abuse of mine.

“You’re my undoing, Radisyn.” He whispers along my neck, leaving wet kisses as his cock thrusts in and out of me.

Do not over think that Rad.
Collect yourself.

I lift my hips to meet his thrusts, slamming our bodies against one another. My hands once gripping the sheets, now grip his ass. My plateau beginning again, each time he plunges into my depths I rise another notch.

“You’re so fucking tight, it feels too good. Too fucking good.” Zepp groans out, pushing each word out between breaths.

His words are my undoing. It wrecks me, in a fantastic way.

My body convulses, my orgasm hitting every nerve ending in my body sending endorphins throughout. My clenching only forces an orgasm out of him, he smashes his lips against mine while groaning.

He possess me.

Usually coming down from a high is the absolute worst, your body suffers withdrawals, you shake, and you feel numb to everything except for the need to get your fix again and again.

With Zepp the high is similar, except for one thing.

While coming down you always know that the fix will be there, it’s not leaving you, it can’t because it’s as addicted to you as you are to
it.

Zepp isn’t
addicted.

Zepp isn’t
high
off me.

Zepp isn’t suffering
withdrawal.

Once we return from escape he pulls the condom off and disappears, throwing the condom away I assume. While I lay in shock on his bunk for a bed. My juices leaking out of me onto his blankets, my heart pounding after such a life changing experience. When he comes out I recognize the look in his eyes, boredom.

He’s already moved on from what we did, the escape was just that, a means to an end. He was dealing with something and wanted an out, I was his temporary out.

What I had disclosed before about not being a groupie wasn’t needed, it was uncalled for. He had already made up his mind with what he wanted, nothing I did would have swayed his attraction to me.

I was just an out.

And a damn easy one I was.

I had a few options. I could pretend naiveté, show him how much what just happened between us meant to me. That would only embarrass myself in the end, he’d have to tell me to leave. Or I could call him out on it, make him explain himself which in the end will only chase him away. He’d close the door he’d just opened for good.