Losing Traction: Westbeach #1

I’m confused and don’t know what’s going on with her lately. The lively girl I met when we first started this tour has been replaced with a sad, depressed, lonely girl.

  “I’ll be fine. I just really want you to know that.”

  I swallow past the lump that’s appeared in my throat. “Has something happened, Nettie? Please tell me. I give a good ass kicking, just sayin’.”

  She giggles for the first time in the last forty-eight hours. “I wouldn’t question that,” she whispers. “Goodnight, Phoebe.”

  “Goodnight, Nettie.”

  I’m running down the stadium hallway at full speed.

  Shit, I am so late. Goddamn, Nettie. Why didn’t she wake me up?

  I push through the door that reads, Alyx Munroe.

  Huh? She must be in a good mood today, there’s no profanity beside her name.

  Once the door is open, I step in, and Alyx looks up from her book rolling her eyes. “Where the fuck have you been, and why are you late?”

  I take that back, the dragon is still there.

  “Sorry, slept in,” I answer, making my way to the table that sits in the middle of the large room. This room, like all her others, is the same. Lights around the mirrors, large sofa sitting in the middle and her wardrobe next to the sofa.

  I glance at Nettie, who’s sitting on the floor with her large stainless steel make-up case, sorting through it. She catches my eyes in-between color co-coordinating her eyeshadows.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?” I whisper to her, checking to make sure Alyx doesn’t hear.

  “I tried! You wouldn’t wake up. I had to leave or I would’ve been late, too.”

  It’s not her fault, and knowing that she tried to wake me makes me feel a little better. I shrug my shoulders down in defeat.

  “I’m sorry,” I mouth to her and she touches her heart with one hand, running her finger down her face pouting, mocking me. I laugh and Alyx whips her head around to us.

  “I don’t pay you two to sit around laughing…work!”

  I roll my eyes and when she turns back around to the magazine she was reading, I flip her off. Elijah sees and attempts to hold down a laugh while doing her hair. Smiling at him, I make my way into the wardrobe, which now has less pink and I scream, “Halleluja!” A round of loud laughing erupting from outside, but I can almost feel Alyx’s glare from the other side of the wall.

  It only takes me three hours to sort out what she’ll be wearing on stage. I guess she likes the way I do things because she hasn’t moaned about what I’ve been putting her in.

  “Hey,” I hear Alyx purr from the other side of the wall.

  “Hey, Phoebe here?”

  “Why? So you can make out on my watch? No thanks.”

  Nettie gasps out. “What?” Then a thump, like Alyx just threw something at her. “It’s all there, all over the magazines. What the fuck is so great about her.”

  “Well, she’s not you, so that’s a great start,” Ryder retorts. I laugh silently before getting up and making my way out of the room.

  “Hey you,” I say smiling at him while leaning against the door frame.

  “Hey, baby.” He walks over to me, picking me up and pulling me down to his lips. I smile against his lips, squeezing his shoulders.

  “Ryder, put me down,” I mumble against him.

  Laughing, he places me back on my feet. “Are you staying for the show?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “I can’t. I feel like shit and look like shit. Therefore, I will not be caught dead at one of the largest concerts of all time.”

  “That’s Madison Square, baby, not here.”

  I nod. “Yes, but after our performance yesterday, I don’t want to be caught dead like this.” And I’m not kidding, I look like horse shit. In white short shorts with a tight black tank top on and my hair in a messy bun on the top of my head, oily and downright wrong from the humidity and the sweat. And let’s not get started on my make-up free face.

  “You would out-do every woman in sweats, baby.”

  Alyx scoffs and I look to her, narrowing my eyes. Ryder chuckles a little, leaning down to my ear, and biting it lightly. “My little tiger’s a little feisty today, isn’t she?”

  He needs to just stop existing. His mere presence turns me on too much.

  “I’ll come to the Madison Square concert, okay? I’ll bring extra clothes and stuff into work.”

  He looks like he wants to fight it, but nods his head anyway. “All right baby,” he replies, kissing me on the forehead. Pulling out a card, he hands it to me. “But you’re staying with me tonight.”

  Nettie’s nodding her head like a maniac. “Okay,” I say, taking the key card out of his hands. “I’ll see you there at ten.” Wrapping his hands around the back of my neck, he pulls me into his lips. I slip my hand around the back of his neck, balancing on my tippy toes while he lands three more sweet little kisses on me before winking at me and walking out the door. My senses are still buzzing, and when I look to Nettie, she’s fanning herself dramatically with her mouth hanging open. I laugh at her, shaking my head.

  Nettie.

  I’m in the shower, scrubbing off all the sweat back at the hotel. The concert will be in full swing right now, so I have a couple hours to get ready. Turning off the faucet, I step out of the shower and wrap the towel around myself. Walking out to the room, I pull out some tight black shorts, a tank top, and a throw over thick cardigan that hangs off my shoulder. It’s casual and doesn’t look like I’m trying hard to impress him. I blow dry my hair and let it sit in natural waves down my back, landing off my tailbone. I really do need a trim, but that can wait until I’m back in Westbeach. I trust no one with my hair except for Sheyne. He’s a transsexual, and there’s no one who knows more about hair than her. Brushing on some blush, fluffing up my hair a bit more, I apply a light layer of my Eos lip balm that smells and tastes like peaches. I spray on a sprinkle of Shalini Parfum and rub in some coconut oil into my legs.

  I scoff to myself. “Now, it’s starting to look like you’re trying too hard.” Glancing down at the time, I see that it’s nine forty-five in the evening, so I pick up my overnight Nike bag that has my pajamas and an extra set of clothes, that I sort of stuff in it before heading out the door and up to his suite.

  Swiping my key, I walk in, flicking on all the lights. I can inspect how beautiful this room is now without Ryder whispering sweet nothings into my ear. Dropping my bag on the floor beside the door, I find my way to the living room, near the sofa. Glance down to all the traffic below us, I circle around the entire room, looking over the city the whole time until I’m back to the front door. Bending down, I take my phone out of my bag and walk to the sofa, plopping myself down on it. I open up the Facebook app and…

  “Holy sweet motherfucking shit!”

  By the little friend request symbol, it shows 3,489 people want to be your friend. Over the message symbol, it shows 2,340 new messages, and my notification symbol shows 11,689.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I scoff to myself.

  Shutting down the app, not wanting to ever go back on Facebook, but knowing that I will need to eventually, I shake my head. This is crazy. Now I’m starting to see what Lara was talking about. Who would have thought it would be this intense, though? Shit.

  I check my messages on my phone and see ten missed calls and four messages.

  “Thank God,” I whisper to myself. Something a little more realistic.

  The missed calls are from Blake. “Fuck.”

  I dial his phone and he picks up on the third ring.

  “Phoebe, tell me something,” he says down the phone and I stay silent.

  “Why did I have to hear about you and Ryder through the fucking E! Channel?”

  “You were watching the E! Channel?” I reply in a scoff.

  “Now’s not the time, Speedy. What the fuck’s going on? Are you and Ryder together or what?”

  “We’re together. I think. Look, I don’t know, but p
lease just stay out of it. It’s complicated enough without you pushing your way in.”

  “I like Ryder, I do, but—”

  “Blake! Just…okay, just stop.” I throw my hand over my head, catching the front door opening out of the corner of my eyes. Ryder walks in shirtless with ripped jeans that hang nicely off his ripped body, his leather necklace and lip ring glistening from the sweat on his face. I clutch onto my dad’s Harley necklace emblem as Blake’s voice comes through to me again.

  “Phoebe? Are you listening to me?”

  “Huh? Yeah, I heard you. I gotta go, we leave tomorrow for Madison Square. I’ll call you then, okay? Oh, and Blake? How’s the circuit coming along?”

  “Yeah all right, and you’ll see.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Hanging up my phone, I make my way to Ryder.

  “Blake knows?” he asks, dropping his jacket onto the counter.

  I nod. “Thanks to the E! Channel.”

  “How’d he take it?”

  “How Blake would take it. He’ll take some time.”

  Ryder nods in understanding, walking to the kitchen and pulling out a bottled water. I follow him in and walk to one of the stools. “How was the concert?”

  He shrugs, taking a drink of water. “Like all the others.” He smiles, placing his water back onto the counter and making his way toward me.

  Hooking his arm around me, he brushes my hair back behind my ear. “Fuck you’re beautiful.”

  “So are you,” I answer honestly.

  He laughs, shaking his head. “What?” I say to him, causing his chuckle to deepen.

  “A man does not want to be called beautiful, baby.”

  “Don’t care. It’s true.”

  Standing, I turn around to slide my stool back under the counter when I feel his body flush up against my back. He kisses me from my shoulder up to my neck, to behind my ear. I tilt my head, giving him more access. He places one of his legs in between mine, spreading my leg open with his before repeating with his other leg. Biting down on my lip, I squirm silently. He sweeps my hair to one side of my shoulders, running his hands up my front under my top, and pinching my nipple in between his fingers. “This…” he runs his hand down, under my shorts and panties and through my now soaking wet folds, “…is mine. Understood?”

  I don’t answer because I’m too busy trying not to thrust against his finger. A slap stings my ass and I screech out in shock. “Ouch! Ryder!” I semi-laugh.

  “Answer me,” he growls.

  “Understood,” I answer with an eye roll.

  “Good.”

  He loosens his belt buckle, pulling my top off and leaving me in my bra. Pulling down my shorts and panties, he eventually leaves me standing there naked. Turning my head slightly, I glance at him over my shoulder. The sight almost knocks me on my ass. He’s standing there with a glorious smirk on his face, hair messy, with his glistening sweat still shining all over his beautiful body. Swallowing down the buildup of saliva my body has created, I continue my observation. His jeans are hanging there with the only thing still holding them up is the huge bulge in his pants. Running my tongue over my lips in need, his eyes follow my movement before they darken. There’s something raw about the look he’s giving me and that thought alone both excites and scares me.

  He removes his belt, pulling my arms behind my back and binding them together with his belt. My insides jump up in excitement. Running his rough hands down my spine lightly, he spins me around to face him, picking me up from under my armpits and placing me on the kitchen counter. With my wrists still bound together, he lays me flat on my back against the kitchen counter, before hitching my leg over his shoulder. I arch my back into him, my breath panting, my pussy humming, begging him to cover it with his mouth. Light little blows glide over my center, my insides start itching wanting to combust with need. My head begins turning in frustration.

  He chuckles, the motion vibrating on my inner thigh, before his tongue slowly slides over my clit, feeding my need in an instant, carrying on his trip right down to my entrance. Moaning out, he opens both of my legs, doing the same thing again. I begin moving, needing more than what he’s giving me.

  “Ryder,” I breathe out a little frustrated. He brings his mouth back down to my clit, sucking it lightly, covering the most sensitive part of me with his slippery, wet, slickness. I moan again, this time it comes out a loud, needy and demanding. His tongue circles around my clit, hitting my four-o-clock spot and slowly but surely, he runs his tongue around in circles with the right added pressure. My body begins building higher and higher, only for everything to crash when it all stops. He pulls away, smirking up at me. The sight of his face between my thighs is enough to send me off, I want to take a picture and save it as my screen saver.

  Bringing his mouth back to me he runs his tongue down slipping inside me, and I contract around him like a suction of need. He groans out a growl of approval, sliding his thumb up to my clit, where he begins circling it as his tongue gently but roughly caresses my G-spot.

  “Holy fuck! Oh my God, Ryder,” I pant trying to tug my arms free so I can grip anything, preferably his hair, but I need to grasp something. Staying at the same pace, he adds more pressure and I lose it. My hips begin grinding up against his face, and I know my body is already at the right place to explode from under me, but he keeps going. Then, when I think this is it, this is where I will let go he speeds up to a faster pace, destroying my G-spot with his tongue and my clit with his thumb. I scream out my release as I pulse out all of the evidence of my orgasm. Spasms wrack my body as it convulses while Ryder stays down there and licks up every little bit that came dripping out of me. My eyes slowly open and Ryder comes over to me, helping me off the counter. Bringing mouth to mine, he kisses me long and hard. I drop to my knees in front of him and he swipes my hair out of my face, smirking while lifting my face up to him from under my chin.

  “Well, this has to be my second favorite sight to see.”

  “Oh? And what’s your first?”

  “The look on your face when you’re coming all over my tongue.”

  I smile and he pulls his jeans down, unleashing his massive dick. Licking my lips, I examine it hungrily, moving my face to him and licking around the tip of his head slowly before sliding my hot mouth over him. He throws his head back, gripping my hair tightly. I pick up my pace, running my teeth along him lightly, circling my tongue around him, before pulling it out and popping one of his balls into my mouth gently. His grip tightens. Bringing my mouth back to his dick, I suck him in deep, pushing him down my throat. I can’t say I’m a fan of deep throat, and any woman who says she loves it is either:

  A) A liar

  or

  B) A whore.

  There’s no in between. However, for the look on his face, I’d gladly do this every day for him. He stops, pulling himself out of my mouth and gripping my arm, standing me to my feet before leading me into the living room.

  “When are these babies coming off?” I ask him, gesturing to his belt.

  “Not right now,” he answers with a smirk.

  I wake the next morning sore. “Oh my God,” I groan from the bed. Arms wrap around my waist and Ryder pulls me into him. Smiling a genuine smile, I laugh. “Seriously, Ryder. I can’t feel my legs, thighs, hands, mouth, or pussy!” I laugh and he rolls his body on top of me, smirking against my skin, he groans into my neck and rotates his hips into me.

  “Say pussy again?” he growls into my neck.

  I laugh, shoving him playfully. He kisses my neck, running little nibbles down my collarbone, stirring my body back to life. Tilting my head sideways, I welcome him anyway, running my hands down his back and scratching light claw marks across his muscle laced shoulders. He pushes his groin into me, his obliques and abdominals flexing in the movement.

  I begin to slowly rub myself against him, a moan lightly sliding off my tongue. He pushes into me in one tight movement, the ache
of my muscles disappearing and pleasure taking over me. Lacing my hands around his neck, I pull his face down to mine, each time he pushes in, he circles his hips rubbing himself against my clit. His tongue slides down to my breast, sucking it into his mouth and circling my nipple with his tongue. Grasping onto his hair, I grind against him harder.

  “Shit,” I moan out, picking up my speed a notch. He takes hold of my thigh, hitching it against my hip, before descending into me over and over again until I feel myself on the edge. Bringing his mouth back down to my nipple, he sucks it back into his mouth roughly while picking up speed so he’s pounding into me, hitting a particular spot deep, deep inside. Clawing his back, I scream out my release as I ride out the waves of euphoria. On time, he releases himself on cue with me. His body dropping on top of mine as we both attempt to control our breathing.

  “Shit,” I whisper. The ache from my muscles slowly creeping back.

  “You okay?” he asked from the crook of my neck.

  Shaking my head, I laugh. “Nope, not even slightly. But I don’t regret it.” Tapping on his waist, I signal him to get off. He rolls off me, so I get up and make my way to the shower with my overnight bag in my hand.

  “Want anything in particular for breakfast?” he asks, pulling on his jeans.

  I shake my head. “Anything goes.”

  He rounds the bed, cupping my ass in his hands and pushing my naked body up against him. Bringing his lips down to mine, he sucks my lip into his mouth, and I’m pretty sure I’m ready for another round—despite the ache between my thighs.

  “I need a shower, stop being distracting,” I say to him. He slaps my ass and I yelp, it’s still sore from the attention it got last night. His smile drops and he turns me around. “It’s fine, Ryder.”

  “Are you sure? I can massage it on the ride home.” He smirks at me and I laugh.

  “I don’t think so buddy, not in front of an audience. You may be down to ride like that, but I’m not.”

  Shaking his head, he smiles. “For the record, I’ll never be down to ride like that with you.”