“I know my bus is mine,” I said. “Just point me in that direction, and I’ll take it from here.”
Both Delia and Hank looked over at me before the coordinator pointed.
“Thanks.”
I didn’t wait around for either of them to lecture me on my tone of voice. Hank fucking acted like my mother, and Delia was quickly becoming that nagging little voice I wanted to squash like a bug. I heard the pitter patter of little feet behind me as I strode for my bus, pulling the door open and stepping inside.
I heard someone step in behind me before the door closed.
“Sure you wanna do that?” I asked.
I looked up into a mirror and saw Delia’s reflection standing at the front of the bus.
“Didn’t realize you’d need all this for a local performance,” she said.
“Gets brought to every performance,” I said. “Personal protocol. If you don’t wanna attend the performance, you can stay on the bus.”
“Sounds fine with me,” she said.
“I got a forty-five-minute set, so try not to miss me too much.”
“It’ll be hard, but I think I can manage.”
My eyes whipped to hers in the mirror before I turned around and picked up my guitar.
“Enjoy the bus,” I said, as I maneuvered past her. “When I’m done, we can get on back to the ranch.”
I stepped off the bus before she could say anything. I didn’t give a shit what she did, honestly. If she got into her truck and drove off, she’d be doing both of us a fucking favor. I walked up to Hank who was still talking to the coordinator, getting logistics and probably working out payment options for the gig.
“I’m not taking payment,” I said.
“What?” Hank asked.
“Don’t pay me for this gig. Keep your money,” I said.
“Mr. Blackthorn, Autism Speaks sets aside funds for stuff like this.”
“Keep the money and put it to better use. If artists demand to be paid for things like this, then they don’t need to be doing it. Though you could’ve made it an afternoon concert if you’re looking for suggestions.”
I marched off toward the venue, ready to warm up and tune my guitar. Delia was alone on the bus doing fuck-knew-what, Hank was probably pissed I wasn’t accepting payment, and this guitar hadn’t seen the light of fucking day in almost a year. It would take me all my damn warm-up time just to tune the fucking thing, but I didn’t care.
It would be worth it to see those kids smile.
The End
End of Sneak Peek. Would you like to know how this continues?
Click Here: Beautiful Disaster
ONE MORE TIME: A SECOND CHANCE ROMANCE
Prologue
The moment our lips connected, I felt myself come to life. His lips tasted delicious. His body was throbbing against mine as his hands meandered along my skin. Our tongues lapped lazily at one another, neither of us battling for dominance but neither of us backing down.
I felt his cock growing against me, hard and thick and ready to be inside me. His hands slid my pants down, grasping my naked ass as I smiled against his lips. I trailed kisses down his neck as his hand found my folds, dripping and wet for him as he explored my wet folds. I left love bites on his neck and raked my teeth down his chest, my hand descending beyond his boxers and wrapping around his length.
“Shit, Chanel. Fuck.”
I spread my legs further for him, wanting his fingers buried inside of me.
He slid two fingers in, filling me up as I moaned into his neck. I rocked against his hand as his lips found mine, claiming dominance over my body as he bent me over the couch. I rolled my hips against his hand as his cock jumped in my palm. I could feel his warmed leaking down his skin, warm and dripping onto my fingertips as I slowly slipped my hand up and down his shaft. He was moaning into my lips and bucking against my body as I began to pant. His fingers stretched me perfectly as his thumb found my pulsing clit, and soon, I was a whimpering, gasping mess against his couch.
I brought my head up and connected our lips again, sucking his bottom lip between my teeth. He groaned as I sat up, allowing my lips to suckle on his before our eyes connected in the middle of his apartment living room.
I released his throbbing cock as he shoved his boxers down to the floor and then quickly worked me out of my pants.
He rushed up my body and picked me up in his arms, carrying me to his bedroom. I held his gaze the entire time as my back descended to his sheets.
I watched him perch between my thighs, my legs tossed haphazardly over his shoulders. His hands crawled up my skin, electrifying me as his hands wrapped around my tits. His fingers tugged at them, forcing my head to fall back on the pillows as his tongue lapped at me.
He licked a long, thick stripe up my slit that had me moaning and writhing uncontrollably.
His tongue licked between my dripping folds and found my clit immediately. He started slowly. Languidly. Licking at it as my juices poured from between my legs. My hands ran over his head as my hips began to roll against his mouth. His hands pinned my hips to his bed, ceasing my movements as his lips puckered around my swollen nub.
My legs were shaking, and my toes were curling. With every stroke he took, he stroked a fire in my gut. That burning sensation started to encompass the whole of my body, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head. His pace became faster, and his tongue pressed deeper. I was breathless as I moaned his name, chanting it like a ritualistic prayer. I was allowed small undulations, the slightest bit of control as I rolled against his tongue. His hands massaged my hips and worked their way down my thighs. He freed my movements, allowing me to buck against his lips as my heels dug into his back.
“Please, baby. Please. I’m so close. Don’t stop. Please.”
Chapter 1 Chanel
Is it too late to change my mind?
“I still can’t believe we’re going on this idiotic cruise.”
“Oh, come on. You’re a journalist. Don’t you take photos and shit?” Ana asked.
“I’m not a photojournalist, woman.”
“Well, don’t pictures have to go with your blog posts or whatever?” she asked.
“Is that really all you think I do? Write blog posts and sit around in my underwear?”
“Well, you’re always so freakin’ happy. I figured it had to be something like that. Fuck knows you’re not getting laid properly.”
“And here we go again,” I said with a sigh.
“Come on. You and I both know you fake your orgasms. All the time.”
“How the hell would you know this? You aren’t in the room when I’m having sex.”
“Oh, come on. With how tightly wound you are? And the fact that you haven’t seriously dated anyone since Rhett isn’t a coincidence.”
“I do not want to hear that name,” I said.
“And I also saw your little bag of fun you packed over there. That’s a new vibrator, isn’t it?”
“Ana!”
“Look. I get it. You’re stuck on your high school sweetheart, but seriously you gotta get off that train and find yourself a new man. Stop sleeping with those non-committal guys you meet during last call at these bars you drag me to. You deserve so much better.”
“I don’t drag you anywhere. The last time we went out, you literally rolled me out of my bed.”
“That’s what you get for giving me a key.”
“I’m gonna take it from you. Or change the locks,” I said.
“And yet, you haven’t. Face it. I’m the only source of excitement in your life, which is pathetic. The money you spent on those vibrators and butt plugs should be spent on lingerie for your man with a thick dick.”
“Get me one of those, and I’ll show you someone willing to buy lingerie. And I don’t have butt plugs.”