chapter Eight
* * * * *
I fall back against the leather seat, suddenly exhausted and overwhelmed. My whole body feels utterly limp, and I don’t think I could possibly move a muscle if I tried. I fall against Slade’s side, and he throws an arm around my shoulders, and pulls me against his body. I close my eyes, resting my cheek against his muscular body. For a long moment, we sit together in silence, savoring our privacy.
“So,” he says, almost sheepishly, “What did you think of your first rock concert?”
“It was...something,” I say, at a loss for words.
“That sounds like a good thing,” Slade laughs, pulling me closer. “You weren’t freaked out at all, were you?”
“I know I should have been,” I say, “The way the crowd worked, the way they reacted to you...I know it should have freaked me out, but it was just...exciting.”
“Very,” Slade agrees, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “It can be a lot to handle at first, though.”
“Please,” I say jokingly, “I’m an ER nurse, Slade. I can handle anything.”
“I should have known,” he says. “You want some champagne or what?”
“Sure,” I say. He reaches for the still-chilled bottle and fills a couple of flutes as we race through the city. He hands me one with a big grin on his face.
“Cheers,” he says, “To you, above all else.”
“To you,” I counter, “And to whatever the hell just happened back in the wings of the stage.”
“I’ll drink to that,” he says, his voice scraping along the bottom of his register.
I could tell back there that he was trying very hard to restrain himself, to make sure that we didn’t move along any faster than I wanted to. I don’t know what I was more turned on by, the way he kissed or the fact that he was trying to hold himself back for my benefit. I knew that it would be wiser to take things slow between us, but that concert had been so electric, so full of life and energy that it was hard to contain myself. I take a deep drink of champagne and settle back against the leather.
“Things get pretty intense at your shows, huh?” I ask.
“Every time,” he says, “Our fans are pretty devoted. They’re a weird mix of hardcore and emo kids, sometimes both. It makes for a pretty exciting scene. We try to challenge the norm. We don’t rely too heavily on any one genre, so that we come up with something unique.”
“I’ve definitely never heard anything like you before,” I say, “Slade, your voice...It’s incredible. There’s something so urgent, and consuming, and...just beautiful about it.”
“Beautiful,” Slade says, pondering the word, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard myself described as beautiful.”
I think back to how I thought the very same thing only a few days ago, when he called me beautiful for the first time.
“But you are,” I tell him, “I hope you take that as a compliment. I mean it as one. You’re a gorgeous person, Slade. And I don’t just mean physically. Though, let’s be real...There’s something else about you. Something radiant. It’s no wonder so many people come out to see you, and depend on you for release. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met.”
“Julia...” he says, looking at me intently, “Thank you. That means more coming from you than it would from a thousand screaming fans.”
“Thousands, by my count,” I smile.
“Still,” he says, leaning in close to me. I feel my body respond immediately. Just when I think I can’t possibly be more overwhelmed with sensation, this new closeness sets my nerve endings on fire. I drain my champagne flute and set it down, turning toward Slade on my knees.
His eyes rake all across my body, drinking in the sight of me kneeling before him in the backseat of the town car. Slowly, deliberately, I lower my hands to the leather and begin to crawl towards him. A low groan escapes his lips as I approach, and my eyes flick down to the front of his black jeans. I can already see him bulging there, waiting for me. A deep, throbbing, longing desire ripples through the very core of me, and radiates through every cell of my body.
He grabs hold of my hips and swings me up over his body so I’m straddling him on the seat. I feel the hard length of him pressed right where I want it, against the aching, wet place between my legs. I rest my hands on his hard chest and grind my hips against his, savoring the feel of his stiffness as it rubs against me. His fingers dig into my hips, his eyes are closed blissfully. I lean forward so that my breasts are pressed firmly against his chest. I run my hands down along the muscular length of him, and I kiss his neck deeply, relishing the salty sweat still glistening there. His hands glide down over my ass as I run my tongue lightly along his collarbone, bucking my hips ever so gently.
His hands caress the round rise of my ass, and travel down the smooth backs of my thighs. I gasp as his fingers glance against the tender skin there, the untouched inches of my body. He brings his hands around and slowly spreads my legs further apart. I’m already dripping wet at his touch, and I hold onto his broad shoulders, laying kiss after kiss on his smooth skin. His hands brush against my inner thighs, and my legs are already trembling. He pushes up the hem of my dress, bunching it around my hips.
I hold my breath as he lets two fingers slip inside my thin panties. He moans as he feels how wet the little strip of fabric has become. I arch my back as he rests his fingers against my throbbing slit. Slowly, deliciously, he runs them along the full length of me, taking his time. He strokes me lightly at first, gently. I hold his face in my hands and lower my mouth to his. His tongue presses into my mouth as he runs his fingers deeper within my silky folds. A shudder runs through by body at the overwhelming sensations. I gasp, my mouth open against his, as he slides his fingers inside of me.
He flexes his strong digits, and I let my head fall back. His long strokes are sending me into a dizzy haze. I close my eyes, and all the world is Slade. A low, guttural moan escapes my lips as he slides his fingertips from within me to that tender, aching nub. He rolls the little button between his fingers, kneading and rubbing me fast and hard. A deep, sweet pressure starts to build inside as he flicks and twirls me toward orgasm. I bury my fingers in his dark curls and buck against his powerful fingers, breathing hard. I’m on the edge, lingering just beyond the threshold of incredible bliss. I let my eyes rest on his intense features. His lips part slightly, his eyes are closed, and the sight of him in pleasure from pleasing me sends me over the edge…
I cry out as he runs his fingers firmly around my hard, throbbing nub. I come hard, my mouth open in a silent howl. He strokes me as the waves of pleasure pass through my body, and my legs tremble so violently that they can barely hold me up. The wall of bliss crashes over me, harder than it ever has. I fall against his body, and the sensation peaks grandly. As I pant furiously, resting against him, he lets his arms fall around me, drawing me into a strong embrace. He holds me to him, and I’m happy to stay.
“Thank you for being there tonight,” he says into my hair.
“Don’t mention it,” I breathe, struggling to string words together. If I wasn’t spent before, I’m surely done for now. I stay, cradled in his arms, as the town car carries us ever forward. I’ve never been so content in my entire life, so happily worn out. I nearly fall asleep as the motion of the car soothes me. I feel so safe in his strong embrace.
“Here we are,” he says, after what feels like an hour.
I blink sleepily through the window and see that we’re back in front of my house. I look at him, a bit taken aback. “Aren’t we going to go to some crazy after party?” I ask.
“Julia,” he laughs, “Don’t you have to be at the hospital in, like, eight hours?”
I had completely forgotten that I had one last shift before my two week vacation was to start. I’ve been so wrapped up in Slade’s sudden appearance in my life, in our surprise road trip, in the concert, that work had totally escaped my mind.
“That is a very good point,” I tell him, climbing down off his lap. “Thanks for the lift.”
“My pleasure,” he says, opening the door and hopping onto the sidewalk. He offers his hands and lifts me out of the car. He slams the door shut behind me and motions for Anders to get going. As the town car drives away, my confusion deepens.
“That’s your ride,” I say hollowly.
“I thought I’d take you up on your offer to come in,” Slade says, all but carrying me toward my front door.
“Oh...” I say, “Very well.”
We climb up the front steps to my door, and I fumble with the keys. It’s a miracle I didn’t lose all of my earthly possessions in the chaos of the evening. I push open the front door and stagger over the threshold. As Slade closes the door behind us, I flip on the lights. My home is the same as it’s always been, but with Slade standing there in the foyer, everything seems suddenly new. Vibrant.
“Nice place you’ve got here,” he smiles, scanning my modest abode with interested eyes.
“Be it ever so humble,” I say, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Why am I so antsy about him being here? It’s not like I have anything to hide from him. “Do you want some...I don’t know...I have peanut butter and jelly, and not much else.”
“Some water would be great,” Slade says, smiling.
I turn toward the kitchen, leading him through my darkened home. There’s a rock star in my starter house...I don’t quite know how to feel about it. I flip on the kitchen light and come face to face with Gustav. He does not look happy about the fact that I’ve left him alone all evening. I rush to give him an affectionate scratch behind the ears.
“This is the man in my life,” I tell Slade. “Say hello to Gustav.”
“Hello, Gustav,” the rock star says formally. Gustav looks at Slade critically, aloof as ever.
“He’s picky,” I tell Slade.
“Just like his owner?” he asks.
“Exactly,” I say with a smile. I fetch two glasses and fill them to the brim. The ice cold water feels amazing as it runs down my throat. I didn’t realize it, but I must have been screaming along with the rest of the crowd that whole time. I settle down at the kitchen table, and Slade sits across from me. I can’t get over how surreal it is to have him in my home.
“Did everyone take care of you backstage?” he asks.
“Eddie was very welcoming,” I say.
“That’s good,” Slade smiles.
“Some of your other friends, however...” I start, not exactly relishing the notion of talking about the band of harpies I met backstage.
“What other friends?” Slade asks.
“A few young...well, not ladies...” I say reluctantly.
Slade groans, running a hand through his hair. “Oh,” he says, “You met the girls.”
“I suppose I did,” I say, turning my water glass around in my hands. “They were...special.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Slade says.
“So they’re...what...roadies?” I say sardonically.
“Not exactly,” Slade says, the ends of his mouth turning into a scowl. “I’m sorry you ran into them.”
“I mean, you knew they’d be there, right?” I ask.
“They always are,” Slade says. “They sort of...tour with us.”
“I see,” I say, trying to keep my temper level. I have no right to be angry with Slade over this, do I? We’ve only known each other for a couple of days, after all. I have no claim to him. But still, I can’t shake the angry feeling that’s come over me. “How long have you been keeping women on call like that?”
“On call?” Slade says, his eyes widening. “What do you mean?”
“Well, they’re only on tour with you guys for one reason, right?” I say, meeting his gaze. “I just think it’s sort of a shitty arrangement, is all.”
“What’s shitty about it?” Slade asks, leaning forward on his elbows. “We’re all consenting adults. There’s nothing wrong with it.”
“Are you serious?” I ask, my frustration boiling over, “They’re basically concubines, Slade! You don’t see how that’s degrading to women everywhere?”
“We’re not talking about women everywhere,” Slade says, his tone hardening, “We’re talking about three specific women who choose to hang around the band and offer certain...affections.”
“Affections?” I say, incredulously, “By which you mean blow jobs, yes?”
“Why are you getting so upset about this?” Slade asks, dumbfounded.
“I just can’t believe that you think that’s an acceptable way to treat women,” I say, shaking my head, “How can you possibly think it’s OK to keep someone around for nothing but a good f*ck whenever you want it?”
“You’re overreacting to all of this,” Slade tells me. I can see the muscles in his jaw tensing.
“Don’t tell me I’m overreacting,” I say.
There’s no stopping my temper now that it’s gotten out of its cage. I brace myself against my own anger. “The three of them practically cornered me backstage to tell me what was what. It’s like they’re brainwashed or something. Sex drones. And you take advantage of that! Helena—that’s the one that ‘belongs’ to you, right?—she thinks you’re a freaking god. You’re totally using that girl, Slade. It’s totally uncool of you!”
“I’m not using anyone!” Slade cries, “Most of all not Helena! You think I’ve laid a finger on her since I met you?”
“Have you?” I demand.
“Of course not!” Slade says, his teeth gritted. “I can’t believe you’d think that.”
“How am I supposed to—”
“Let me be clear, Julia,” Slade says, “There are a lot of things about my life that you’re going to hate. There are a lot of things I’ve done that you’re going to think are vile and reprehensible and disgusting. I’ve drunk myself into a stupor more times than I can count. I’ve trashed hotel rooms and crashed cars and never batted an eye. I’ve slept with more women than I can name...Hell, I probably never even learned a lot of their names to begin with! Since I was eighteen, I’ve been living this life. It’s been nothing but money, and women, and booze, and music this whole time. My band’s kept me sane, and I like to think I haven’t done any lasting damage, but you and I have led entire lives before we met each other. And if you’re going to begrudge me that, then I think we should stop this whole thing before we even begin.”
“What whole thing?” I ask quietly.
“This,” he says, gesturing between the two of us. “I have no idea what this is, but I know that it’s something, and I know I’d rather not abandon it for no good reason. I’m sorry if the girls made you feel uncomfortable, but don’t blame me! That’s not fair. I won’t judge you for what you’ve done if you won’t judge me.”
“But I’ve never done anything!” I say.
“Well...” Slade says, “Then you’re just perfect and everyone else is a shit head.”
We stare at each other across the table, at an impasse. I can feel that this is the moment I either turn away and run, or else never return unchanged. Am I willing to let this troubled, chaotic soul into my life? This offensive, riotous, destructive presence who could very well tear my heart out with his teeth and leave me bleeding in his wake? I look at him long and hard, trying to read his mind. But his face is stony—he’s hiding behind that much-practiced facade again. The distance between us tugs at my heart. I hate it. I know that I couldn’t stand to force him away. No matter how scared I am, it becomes clear that I really don’t have a choice in the matter. For better or worse, I care about Slade Hale. God help me.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “I shouldn’t have snapped.”
“I’m sorry too,” I say. “It was just...weird, is all. Backstage I mean. I felt so protective of you. And I know that’s kind of crazy, and that I really don’t have any right to, but...that’s how I felt.”
“I promise Julia,” Slade says, “Nothing’s gone on between us since the hospital.”
“Does she know that?” I ask dryly.
“She will now, if she didn’t already,” he says.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“It’s not just anyone that’s allowed backstage,” Slade says, “I’ve never invited anyone back, besides you. And I’ve certainly never blown off an after party to go play with someone’s cat.”
“Watch those double entendres,” I tell him.
He laughs. “I was referring to Gustav. It’s not my fault your mind is in the gutter.”
“Fair enough,” I say, “Though you can’t blame me for being a little one track minded right now.”
“Not a bit,” he says. “Jesus, it’s probably three by now. Don’t you need to be getting to bed?”
“Yeah,” I say, “I certainly do.”
“OK,” he says, “Do you want me to call Anders and get out of your hair?”
“No,” I say, “Could you...I mean, I do actually have to sleep, but you can stay. If you want.”
“I could use some rest myself,” he says.
I push myself up from the table and beckon him to follow me. I climb the stairs, well aware of Slade’s eyes fixed squarely upon my ass. “I don’t think I’ve had a sleepover since I was thirteen,” I say, “I might be out of practice.”
“I promise to keep my hands to myself,” he says, “Well, mostly.”
With a smile, I push open my bedroom door and step inside. Despite the release Slade granted me in the back of the town car, my body is still sparkling with desire for him. I can only imagine how he feels. But still, exhaustion is finally starting to trump lust. I sink onto the bed and fall back against the pillows. I can’t even bring myself to get undressed, I’m just too tired. I haven’t slept in far too long, though I wouldn’t have missed that concert for the world. I can’t believe I have to head back in to the hospital tomorrow. Penny is going to lose her shit all over the place.
Slade sinks down onto the mattress beside me, looking around my bedroom. “So, this is the place,” he says.
“This is it,” I mumble sleepily.
“The sun’s coming up,” he remarks, looking out the window, “How are you going to fall asleep?”
“Easy,” I say, rolling onto my side, “Just be quiet and spoon me, would you?”
He obliges me, and lies down and pulls me against him. We’re on top of the comforter, snuggled up like newlyweds. The whole thing is totally bizarre, but somehow totally right at the same time.
“I don’t think I’ve cuddled with anyone for about a decade,” he says, his lips against my ear.
“How are you liking it?” I ask.
“It’s strange...” he says, shifting his body against mine. “Usually, your clothes would have been off before we got through the door.”
“I’m not your usual kind of girl, I guess,” I tell him, cuddling closer.
“You’re certainly not,” he says. “You’re unlike any girl I’ve ever met.”
“In what way?” I ask.
“You don’t care that I’m a rock star,” he laughs.
“It’s not that I don’t care,” I tell him, “It’s just not why I care about you.”
I gasp as I realize the words I’ve allowed to escape my mouth. I hold my breath, hoping he somehow managed to not hear me. Oh please, let him have not heard that. How could I have slipped up and said those four words out loud? For god’s sake, we haven’t even slept together! We haven’t even known each other for a week! What the hell is the matter with me? A long moment of silence passes, and Slade’s body is perfectly still. Finally, he parts his lips and whispers into the lightening air.
“I care about you too, Julia.”
Relief and elation erupt inside of me, warring for attention. I’m completely overwhelmed, and ecstatic, and terrified. I turn toward him on the bed and look into those dark, endless eyes of his. For a moment, all I can do is stare silently at this gorgeous man who’s crashed headfirst into my life.
“You do?” I ask, “You really do?”
“I really do,” he says. “You really do, too?”
“I really do, too,” I say.
We laugh, sounding for the world like a couple of kids on prom night. Not exactly the kind of pillow talk I’d expect from a rock star. It’s hard to believe that this is the same person who pinned me against the backstage wall and sent me soaring into an unbelievable orgasm in the backseat of his town car. But Slade is nothing if not multifaceted. That much I’ve been able to figure out.
“I have no idea how this ends,” I tell him.
“Does it have to?” he asks.
“You’re going on tour,” I say.
“I am,” he says.
“For a long time,” I say.
“Yeah,” he admits.
“Well,” I say, yawning widely, “I guess we don’t have to figure it out tonight.”
“You could come with me,” he suggests hopefully.
“No I can’t,” I tell him, “and you know it, Slade.”
“It was worth a shot,” he says sleepily.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night...day...” mumble, and finally drift off to sleep. Slade’s arms tighten around me as the sun continues to rise beyond my window. I greet the new day wrapped up in the embrace of an unknowable rock star who happens to want me. And after a rock concert and the best orgasm of my life…I’ve certainly had worse mornings in my time, that much is for certain.