Losing You (Stars On Fire Book 4) (11 page)

“Want some company?” he asked to which she nodded her head. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

He quickly went back to his bunk to throw on his shirt and grab his phone, then he returned to his friend, who had sat up to give him room to get comfortable. She snuggled in front of him and they watched—

“
Titanic
? Seriously?”

“Oh hush. It’s a good movie.”

“He dies.”

“I know. I’ve seen it like twenty times.”

“I used to think you were cool . . . but now, I don’t know . . .”

“Sorry, no artsy-fartsy movies allowed on this bus,” she informed him after playfully elbowing him in the stomach.

“I watch more than that,” he shot back though his brain started rolling through the last movies he’d seen. Clearing his throat, he added. “I’m sure Clark brought some movies . . .”

“Yeah.
Batman
and
X-Men
more than likely. This is the best option. Now, shh! Good part.”

While Mia watched the boat hit the iceberg, Marc checked his phone and smiled at another message from Lizzie.

I wish you were in this bed beside me.

He sent the picture he’d taken of him coming along with another text.

I wish you would’ve done this to me.

Oh, I’ll definitely be doing that the next time we see each other, but instead of your stomach, it’ll be in my mouth.

His head fell back against the cushion, a tortured groan passing over his lips.

“What?” Mia asked, turning to look at him.

“Just a text from Lizzie.”

“A hot text?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Those are torture,” she reflected, her eyes going back to the movie.

“Oh . . . you sext with Ethan?” he teased.

She laughed. “I guess. All it does is frustrate me even more. I can’t think past me wanting him.”

“You got that right,” he said, staring at the picture of Lizzie on his phone, and wanting nothing more than his girl.

When Marc returned home from the road (how cool was that to say?), he was beyond exhausted and missed Lizzie something fierce. Their text messages had definitely heated up his bunk the past two weeks. His cock had been in a constant semi-hard to hard state from them and the images they evoked in his brain.

And that was pretty much him fucking her up against whatever surface he could.

Soon, he hoped.

Her flight was due to come in late that evening, so Marc had half the day to himself and decided to take care of all the souvenirs he’d brought back from tour, including the many boxes of chocolate for Lizzie. He had loads of video of the band and would have to catalog it . . . eventually. The shows had been freaking insane. So much better than pre-record deal. Their new album polished up those old songs . . . and in turn, the band. The wonders of great producers.

His friends were coming into their own on stage. Each show . . . better and better. Marc was so proud of them. Mia . . . holy hell! He had never noticed how fucking hot she was. His baby girl . . . the girl he saw as his little sister . . . was sex personified onstage. And from the way Marty, Clark, and Todd had circled around to protect Mia from the overzealous fans, they knew it too.

Marc already missed the wonderful insanity of it all. Being with his friends. The late nights and parties, even though they weren’t as crazy as he’d expected. Mia, his normal drug buddy, hadn’t wanted to partake. That wasn’t a bad thing, he was just surprised by her choice. She’d always been right by his side, his partner in crime, when it came to taking the drugs. But he didn’t make a big deal about it. He sat by her side. Though the temptation to smoke a joint about buckled him. It was just routine to him. The five of them got together, they got drunk and high. So, each after party, it was harder and harder not to join Todd, Marty, and Clark, and light one up.

But he had been proud of himself for not doing so and as he stood in his home, he was thankful to be there and away from temptation. He didn’t know how much longer he could’ve held out.

Another thing he didn’t miss from life on the road was the small ass shower made for people half a foot shorter than him. Intent on taking a shower in his house where he didn’t have to bend and contort his body to wash his hair, Marc started shedding his clothes as he made his way up to his room. Turning on the water, he tested the temperature, adjusting it a little before stepping in.

He fucking groaned when the hot beads of water hit his skin. Tilting his head back, the water drenched his hair. He’d never thought that would feel so good. Almost as good as sex.

Almost.

That was next on his list of things to do today. Except he needed Lizzie . . . and that sassy mouth wrapped around his cock instead of his hand stroking it. Though, this felt ten times better than what he’d been doing the past couple of weeks.

Resting his forearm against the cool, tiled wall, he continued to run his closed fist up and down the length of his dick, crowning the top, imagining Lizzie’s lips in the same place.

“That is
the
hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Marc whipped his head up at her voice. Lizzie stood in his bathroom, her ass resting against the counter in her sexy fucking yellow work dress. The glow of her smile enveloped him from across the room.

“Shit, Lizzie,” he exclaimed, dropping his hand from his cock.

“No. Don’t stop,” she ordered. “Keep going.”

He hesitated but then continued, turning so he faced her, his eyes locked on hers. His gaze fell when she pushed off the counter and her hands went to the side of her dress, pulling the zipper down. Stepping out of it, she stood before him in her matching bra and panties. Yellow was fast becoming his new favorite color.

Her underwear didn’t stay on long at all. The moment the dainty yellow fabric hit the ground, she followed, kneeling before him. When her hands made contact with his thighs, a shiver shook his body hard. Running her fingers upward, she gave his hand a break. Fresh off the bench, she worked his cock into submission and when that mouth touched the tip, sucking it further in, he was gone for.

“Lizzie,” he moaned, grasping her beautiful red hair in his fists. “You’re gonna yank this orgasm right outta me.”

“Let me,” she answered, her lips resting on his stomach, not stopping her hand while she spoke.

That did it. A guttural moan tore through him as he came all over her chest.

Her satisfied grin had him tipping her face up. “What’s up with your mouth there?” he asked, tracing her lips.

She kissed the inside of his wrist. “I’ve been thinking about that since you sent me that picture.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help you out with that,” he said, pulling her to a standing position. Reaching over for the soap, he squirted some in his hands and set about cleaning his dirty girl, and when he was done, she returned the favor, paying extra attention to his dick. By then, it jutted out against her stomach, demanding even more attention.

“Aww, fuck, woman, I missed you so damn much,” he said before claiming her mouth in a quick kiss.

She regarded him with a smile that captivated him . . . hypnotized him. “Why don’t you come to bed and show me just how much you missed me?” she suggested as she grabbed a towel and walked out of the bathroom, wrapping herself in it along the way.

Turning off the shower, he set off to do just that.

Marc

March 2, 2008

He could have watched this show from the stage, but it was a whole different experience—and not one he wanted. Marc wanted front row and thanks to his brother, in about ten minutes that’d be what he got.

Last Star back in Chicago.

This hometown crowd was already insane. All three shows sold out. Marc hadn’t been able to make it to them because of work, nor had he’d seen any of the band except for his brother.

Clark hadn’t even gone home when the band arrived in Chicago; he’d gone straight to Marc’s. The two of them ate a meal and then Marc just listened to his younger brother talk about the tour. Some of it he’d heard in texts and emails but it sounded so much cooler coming straight from Clark.

Marc hadn’t made it out on tour this time around. His time off had been used for the many vacations he and Lizzie had taken together.

He frowned because he’d hoped Lizzie would’ve been able to make this show with him, but she’d left yesterday for a short work trip. Marc had wanted her to see his friends perform for the hometown crowds and actually meet them all. The only one she’d met so far was his brother. This past Christmas, they’d met up with Clark before he traveled to South America and they went to Turks and Caicos, ringing in the New Year on the soft, white sands.

His relationship with Lizzie was so far beyond his expectations he didn’t know what to think anymore. Marc just knew he had it really good.

They were Marc and Lizzie. A couple. When friends mentioned one, they mentioned the other. He and Lizzie were a unit and everyone knew it.

Marc loved that. He never thought he’d love being in a relationship so much. But love it he did. Just like he loved Lizzie. The only thing he wasn’t so keen on was her work schedule because he missed her . . . among other things. When she was gone, it was hard to keep the bad shit from clouding his mind. Those visions of his father’s dead body that he’d spent much of his life pushing away with drugs, somehow found their way to him while his girl was gone. And his battle to not call up his old dealer grew harder and harder.

When the lights switched off, the crowed muted for a moment and as they realized what was happening, the excited murmurs began. When Mia popped up from the floor of the stage, the fans went fucking wild—jumping up and down, screaming as loud as they could.

It was so easy to get caught up in it. And he did.

He knew their performances so well having seen so many of their shows. Around a quarter of the way through, Marc noticed that Mia was acting a little off. What was happening in her personal life was really starting to affect her performances. That same personal life had been all over the news lately. Marc first heard about it while he stood in line at the grocery store one day. Tabloid stories of troubles in Mia and Ethan’s relationship—that they’d each been spotted with different people—filled the grocery mag racks. Marc asked his brother about it and all Clark had said was that Mia and Ethan were on a break. That’s all Clark knew because Mia hadn’t really shared anything with them and had pretty much kept to herself.

The band was concerned about her, though her last few shows had been better . . . but as Marc watched her, he saw the difference. A cloud hung over Mia. Her shoulders were slumped, her movements slower, hesitant, her smiles strained.

His friend looked like she was doing whatever she could not to cry, not to breakdown on stage. Marc was surprised she hadn’t. It was bound to happen soon.

Weeks she’d been holding this in, self-medicating herself, if what his brother said was true. Clark hadn’t actually seen her use any drugs but he’d noticed the differences in her behavior. Sad to happy back to sad. Unfortunately, Clark knew that emotional drug cycle from Marc.

Playing with the passes around his neck, Marc continued to watch his friend, his concern for her only escalating. He needed this show over so he could talk to her, assess how she was really doing.

At the beginning of the encore, Marc headed backstage. He wanted to be right there when the band got off stage.

First off was Marty who high-fived him. “Marc!” he exclaimed and continued on. He pretty much got the same greeting from Todd. Clark gave him a look and gestured back to Mia who followed behind him.

“Hi, baby girl,” he said to get her attention off the floor in front of her. Her eyes shot up and a smile tugged her lips.

“Marc!” she exclaimed, racing over to hug him. Her hold on him was impressive for a tiny thing and he did his best to return it, knowing she needed it. “Come with me,” she said right before releasing him from her embrace. Mia grabbed his hand and led him through the arena to her dressing room.

After they were shut in the room, Mia began shedding some of her ensemble. As she did, she talked to him. “So, I thought I’d be able to meet your Lizzie . . .” Mia began, walking into the little bathroom.