I stare down at it, running my hand up and down the length. I’ve never done it before. Crap, I don’t even know how, but something in how Neil is luxuriating in me stroking him makes me kind of want to do it.
A first. Something sexually I haven’t done first with Alan. Something that’s just mine and Neil’s. He twitches in my fingers and cautiously I take him in my mouth. His entire body jerks in surprise and he opens his eyes, watching as I run my lips up the length of him. I pause at the tip and his penis swells and pulses in my palm. I kiss it lightly and run my tongue around it. I watch the changing lines of his face and I can feel him tightening there.
I place my lips around him and his eyes close, his fingers coming to my hair. I suck harder. He groans. Then I tease him with my tongue and swallow him fully.
I still.
“Don’t stop,” he says through ragged breaths. I suck harder, flicking with my tongue, and his hips pulse in the rhythm of my motion.
I feel his fingers tighten in my hair, moving me up and down on him faster, then he guides my hand back to the length of him, wanting me to stroke and suck him. It’s such a turn-on, the feeling of my power over Neil in this, his uncharacteristic selfishness, the way he is just taking what I’m giving and not offering a thing to relieve the ache in my body.
I suck harder, pushing him deeper.
“Chrissie…” He moans. “If you don’t stop I’m going to come in your mouth.” But even as he says that, I feel his body flexing within my hands, his face tightening as he thrusts into my mouth.
He cries out, spilling into my mouth, his hand clutching my head there and I still. I don’t know what to do with it. Do I spit it out? Before I can figure it out, I swallow on reflex. His hand drops away from me and my mouth leaves him. I kiss my way slowly up until I’m curled against him again. I kiss the underside of his jaw. It wasn’t an act I thought I would enjoy, but I did. There is something in how Neil looks, his closed-eyed pleased expression that makes me feel really good about sharing this for the first time with him.
His eyes open and he kisses me. “I love you.”
I’m a little embarrassed over having done that and more than a little pleased with how he looks like I did it well. I sink my teeth into my lower lip. “Are you both smiling now?”
Neil rolls his eyes, but his smile deepens. “Oh, definitely.” He turns on his side into me and runs the tip of an index finger along the line of my cheek. “Why did you do that? You never want to give me a blow job.”
I stare up at him. “Was it OK?”
He groans in pleasure. “Definitely OK. You can kiss him any time you want to.”
I crinkle my nose at him. “Don’t get carried away, Neil.”
He kisses my shoulder. “I need sleep. Go to sleep.”
I’m not tired, but I lie in the wrap of his body, listening to his breathing changes. I stare at his face, the softened features, the unkempt waves of hair. There are moments when we are together that I love Neil in a way that is sweetly painful.
I touch my lips against his chest. I wish I loved him in this sweetly painful way in more than just moments. I wish it were always. I’m not there yet, but the moments are good. They make me feel less anxious about this road I’m on with Neil. I try really hard to love him the way that I want to love him, but I only get moments here and there. But today it is enough.
~~~
Ernie Levine knows how to throw a party, I’ll give him that.
I lean back against the bar on the far side of the room and stare into the club. The walls vibrate from the thundering music, loud chatter and laughter. The bodies are packed in to the point that the dance floor is suffocating.
Everyone is here. The Seattle bands who are famous and in town. The Seattle bands who are not famous. And the bands that are the buzz and in the process of breaking, like Arctic Hole. Blending with them are the famous, the not, the trendy and the weird. The strange mix of personalities that makes up the music industry everywhere, even in Seattle.
There is also quite a bit of press. More than I care for.
I take a sip of my drink. Ernie threw a nice publicity party for the guys, but it doesn’t make me like him any better. He’s just another opportunistic music industry insider, signing up bands, looting the creative talent in Seattle, hoping to strike a big payday with another Nirvana or Pearl Jam. He doesn’t know what the fuck the guys are about or how to manage them. No wonder it’s taking the band so long to break.
My gaze shifts to Terry Moore. Ernie should have pressed the label for a better record producer than Terry. I could produce Neil and the band better.
I hear knuckles rapping against the wood bar behind me. I turn to look over my shoulder.
“Do you want another drink, Miss?”
I set down my glass. “Chardonnay.”
I turn back around and my eyes fix on Neil. The band—Neil, Josh, Les Wilson, Nate Kassel, and Pat Larsen—are clustered together on sofas, the guys bizarrely looking exactly like they do killing time in the apartment. Only here they are surrounded by girls. Fawning, wooing girls, more than overtly making advances on the guys. Pat Larsen’s girlfriend is furious and hovering over him, sitting on the arm of the couch, looking like she’s going to kick in the face of the next girl who comes near him. The guys have been kissed, touched, pulled and propositioned more tonight that I’ve ever seen before. I quietly slipped out of the circle surrounding them after the first twenty minutes here.
I smile, though this probably shouldn’t make me smile. Neil just looks so grossly uncomfortable being the center of the universe, surrounded and pulled on. It’s so cute how frequently he looks at me to make sure he’s not in trouble.
My gaze softens as it meets Neil’s. I feel the smile in his eyes in my center. He looks miserable. I know he wants me over there with him. I know he’s worried that this is pissing me off, but I am not pissed. I just needed a breather from the damn thing.
Come here, Neil mouths.
I shake my head.
Not a chance, I mouth in his direction.
He gives me an exasperated look.
I toss him a pout.
Laughing, I turn back to the bar and grab my wine. I feel a light tap on my shoulder and look up to find that gross guy who has been staring at me all night, now next to me.
He leans forward. “Hi.”
I smile stiffly in a perfect rich-girl-not-interested Rene kind of way and shift my gaze back to Neil. In a moment, the guy wanders off and I’m relieved, though I do feel badly over my rudeness. I’ve never felt comfortable with guys hitting on me. It’s better to simply make them disappear quickly.
I down a hefty swallow of my wine. Crap, it’s got to be after 2 a.m. When are things going to start shutting down here? We leave early in the morning on the road. A little alone time with Neil would be a really good thing since we’re going to be trapped the majority of the time in a tour bus with the rest of the guys.
I toss down the remainder of my wine and set down the glass on the bar. Maybe I’ll just leave. I really want to get out of here…
“How does it feel to know everyone here wants to fuck him?”
Everyone here. Oh the wording, it could only belong to one person in Seattle. The surface of my skin begins to crawl. What the hell is he doing here? I turn and come face-to-face with Andy Despensa. Shit.
“I’m sure every girl here wants him. Neil is an incredible guy.” I manage to say that in a way that conveys without saying it that Andy isn’t an incredible guy.
His eyes bore into me. “He is an incredible guy. But you know that firsthand. Don’t you?”
Something about his voice makes me want to vomit. His eyes shift to Neil. Fuck, what an asshole. I can’t believe they used to be friends. Why would Neil hang around with a jerkoff like Andy Despensa? Even if they did grow up together in Santa Barbara, he would have made my list of people in my life to lose quickly.