I unbuckle my jeans, sliding them down until my hard cock is out on full display. Quickly, I push her body against the metal, wanting her ass up higher and easy access to that wet heat of hers.
As I put the key in the ignition I hear her breath hitch with excitement. That’s my girl, I think to myself.
I walk closer to her face, taking my cock slowly against her body until I’m right where I want to be. Her breath hits my head, glossy eyes staring up at mine for permission. I nod, tapping her cheek once for her to open and she does, sliding myself into her hot and wanting mouth.
I pump in and out, reveling in how hard she sucks.
With my right hand, I rev the engine, feeling her moan against my cock, as she feels the vibrations hit her clit. My free hand searches for her wet pussy, playing with her lips, moving her wetness around until I slide three fingers inside her, fucking her with my fingers as hard as I can. I move my hand further, fitting a forth finger, feeling her moans heighten as I stuff her fuller. She doesn’t clamp up but takes what I’ll give her.
Her wetness engulfs my hand, with my free hand I rev the engine again, fucking her face and pussy simultaneously. I can’t help it, I have to. I want to use her body in ways that she’s never imagined.
She takes my cock to the back of her throat like a good girl, as tears slide down her cheeks. She’s a vision. I never want to let her go.
I keep revving my engine, until I stop, taking my cock from her mouth. I quickly kiss her, moving behind her, my hand still pumping her pussy slowly, just enough to tease.
I slide my hand from her pussy, spreading her juices across her ass. “What belongs to me?” I ask her lowly.
“I do,” she moans as I insert my hand back inside of her pussy, rubbing my fingers along her G-spot.
“That’s right, Sugar. You do”
I line my cock up with her puckered ass, teasing the tight hole, making myself fit inside of her inch by inch. She moans as I do it, loving every second of it. My hand goes to town as I force myself into her ass, rocking my hips back and forth with my hand in rhythm.
She moans against the bike even harder when I rev the engine yet again, the vibrations hitting her clit exactly how I want them to.
I don’t show her mercy.
I fuck her with my cock and my hand the way I want to.
I show her that she belongs to me because she does, and never will I let her forget it.
Her mouth is mine. Her pussy is mine. Her ass is mine.
She belongs to me, and only me.
I refuse to let up on the engine even when she begs, pleading with me because she doesn’t want to come yet. I don’t give a fuck because this isn’t about her. This is about me, and I want to come in her ass and feel her squirt all over my hand. I’m damn well going to do it too.
I slam my cock into her time and time again, her moans growing louder and pussy tightening as I fuck her with my hand, my entire fist fitting inside of her.
She clenches, hips bucking at me. She rocks herself closer against my cock and hand, moving as wild as I am. “Fuck!”
In one moment she’s coming undone, her pussy soaks my hand. Every time I move my hand I can hear her wetness, it spills out of her onto my forearm and I’m a goner, losing my load inside of her ass.
Fuck.
This fucking woman will be the death of me.
Chapter 23
She remembered who she was, and the game changed. -Lalah Delilah
Bellamy
My week at the clubhouse showed me a lot of things, maybe even things that I didn’t want to know. Okay, it did. My time there showed me things that I wasn’t prepared for, things that I thought wouldn’t matter but ultimately, it does. I thought that I wouldn’t be affected, or maybe that I could handle things better…I just know in my heart that it can’t. I saw what that girl did, and it replays in my mind over and over again.
It wasn’t just once, she keeps appearing like a stray dog that you just can’t quite get rid of.
There is no escaping the awful reality of what will happen to Butch and I. He is from one side of the tracks, and I’m from another. I thought that there was a way I could adapt to his lifestyle, that I could be his girl, but I know there isn’t. Our lives are just so different. I’m a musician, constantly going to be on the road or working, and he’s a biker who puts his club above anything else.
How did I even believe that was ever going to work?
It can’t, and it won’t.
I hold Mia in my lap, rubbing her soft hair. Butch had Slash go get her a couple days ago, and she’s been with me ever since. She’s chewing on my freshly manicured hand, her sharp little teeth digging into my skin like the small razor blades they are.
All I can do is think about it, about how it won’t work, and each time my heart breaks more and more. I like him so much, and if things were different, maybe we could.
The door to the tour bus opens, and here he comes walking over to me. He leans down and gives me a kiss that could make any girl swoon, myself included. Every single time Butch kisses me, it’s as if the world around us turned to ash, incinerated within nanoseconds, there is nothing but him and I. This is something I’ve never felt before, and the worst part is that I knew it had to end, even if I didn’t want it to. There was no avoiding it. It should be done sooner rather than later. After all, I have an interview for prepare for, and I can’t be focusing on Butch the entire time. I need to have my game face on, especially considering my interview is with Summer Poole.
“What’s up, something’s going on with you,” he says, wrapping an arm around me as he sits next to me on the couch.
I can’t say anything, the words are coming to my throat, but I can’t bear to say them out loud. No part of me wants to do this, I just know that I have to, and those are two completely different things.
“Wow. I know exactly what’s happening here,” he mutters, removing his arm from around me.
“No, you d-don’t,” I stutter, my voice cracking through the words. I told Butch that the event from the other night didn’t bother me, but it did. It was the event that started tumble weeding into the scenario that is about to unfold. I think deep down, that girl showed me that this is what our life would be. That I would constantly be worrying about him at the clubhouse with them, not because I don’t trust him, but because I can’t trust them.
“I guess it’s finally hit you, hasn’t it? You finally got the idea that you’re better than I am, that we’re so different and will never work. Newsflash baby, you’ve always been better than me. Never did I argue with you about that shit.”
He stares at me strongly, I want to argue with him, to tell him what is actually on my mind, but I can’t help but wonder if maybe this way makes it easier. Maybe…just maybe if I let him think what he wants it’ll be easier on him. He’ll already have a pre-conceived idea of what I’m “thinking”. It may be selfish of me, and it is – but he’ll hate me, and that will be easier for him.
If he just hates me, he won’t care about me. He can move on. He can be happy.
That’s the only thing I want for him.
So, I’ll sit here, and I won’t argue at all.
I’ll let him hate me because it will be easier for both of us if he does.
“Wow. You’re not even going to try to argue that you haven’t felt that way.” He looks at me, glances down to Mia and simply shakes his head. Butch walks across the way, leaving through the doors and the moment he does I can’t help but think of how badly I’ve just messed up.
Fuck.
What did I just do?
I’m frozen in my seat, unable to move. The only thing I can manage to do is sob with my puppy in my lap. She licks at my salty tears, and we both sit there in the silence until I can manage to pull myself together.
***
I know how I was just an idiot, I should have spoken up. I should have said anything, and instead, I stayed quiet and said nothing. I have to get through this interview, a
nd then I’ll be calling Butch and telling him that’s not what I thought at all. How I was doubting our relationship because of our differences? The man makes me go insane. I have never been as terrified in a relationship as I have with him because he’s unlike any other man that I’ve ever been with.
We haven’t had the full “we’re in a relationship” discussion, but you’d be blind to see that we aren’t. When either of us has free time we’re with one another. I spent as much time as I could with Elena while we were in Tennessee just because our relationship is so new, the two of us are trying very hard to do this whole sister thing right. Neither of us has much practice so we’re bound to have a few bumps in the road.
I’m in Camden, New Jersey, prepping for the interview I have with Summer Poole. In the last few days, I’ve seen Evie around but haven’t had any desire to speak to her. I doubt I will. I mean, how could I? She brought a monster out onto the stage with me. She’s supposed to be my friend before my manager, and she failed at that miserably. If that’s how a friend treats me, then I don’t know if I want to be friends with her.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Rocky asks. He’s standing a few feet away from me as Summer’s people are getting me prepped and ready for this dreadful interview. I could choose a million people who I’d rather have interview me than her, but this is the hand I’m dealt.
“There’s no way in Hell she’s ready for this shit,” Slash grumbles, crossing his arms and looking seriously uncomfortable. He didn’t even want to come here with me today, mentioning how he was going to try to stay out of New York and the surrounding areas. Honestly, he seems a bit nervous, and I can’t tell why. After this morning Butch just left, so Slash didn’t really have a choice. I felt very guilty that he had to come along with me even though it was out of his comfort zone, but Reed and Elena sent both Butch and Slash here with me for a reason – it was necessary, this wasn’t some luxury, and since being in Tennessee with them I’ve really come to understand that.
“I think you’re more uncomfortable than she is, and by the looks of it, I’m right as rain,” Rocky tells Slash. He isn’t wrong. Slash looks ghost white. I’ve never seen him like this before, and to be honest his uncomfortableness is now coming off on me.
“Miss Mason!” I hear Summer’s fake California voice before I even see her. When she walks up I can see she’s just had fillers put in her lips, yet again, and she’s freshly finished tanning. Her skin is bronze gold, reflecting her platinum blonde hair. Some women would be envious of her beauty, and she is beautiful…but she’s the kind of plastic beautiful that you see in all the big cities. The only thing unique about her is her need to drag people through the mud in the press.
“Summer,” I greet, acting as cool as I possibly can. There is no part of me that likes this woman, after everything she’s done I’m pretty sure I have the right to hate her, however, I won’t act like I do. How you’re perceived is everything in this business. If I so much as even cough in the wrong direction she’d have ammunition to tear me to shreds, again.
Nothing else is exchanged between the two of us as her people start getting her ready. I’m completely dreading this interview, knowing that it could either be great, or awful. Who knows – it might even be a combination of both.
Summer coughs, and immediately I think about the one thing I’m asked. The “safe” question that everyone seems to start with. Time and time again, whenever I go into an interview they immediately ask me about my parents’ murder. It’s about my past and my pain. I just wish I was viewed as more than a damaged little girl. “Hello, lovelies! This is your fearless leader, Summer Poole here with the one and only Bellamy Mason, rising star touring with The Stones. Miss Mason here has allowed me to have a Facebook live interview with no off-limit questions. This should be quite fun, shouldn’t it? Now, I’ve asked everyone to give me some questions you’d like Bellamy to answer, and we’ve gone through and picked a couple of those to ask later in our interview.”
“Angie C from PA would love to know what gave you the inspiration to write your own songs versus collaborating with others as most musicians do.”
“Every artist works differently, and while I enjoy collaborating with others, I prefer to work alone. I feel that it makes my music more authentic to myself, which is extremely important for me to do.”
“Okay, well, I’m going to follow up with Cynthia’s question from KY next. She wants to know who you would die to collaborate with, given the opportunity, and if you’ve already collaborated with anyone yet.”
I sit a little taller in my chair, feeling so much more comfortable with the way this interview is going. It doesn’t seem that she’s plotting my demise. She’s being a reporter, she’s asking me questions that are relevant and not gossip related. “I have collaborated with someone, of whom you all know. Jase from The Stones co-wrote a song with me that will be debuting on my upcoming album, Relentless, in just a few weeks. As far as who I’d love to collaborate with, there are so many to count. I’d need hours upon hours to give you that answer.”
Summer smiles at my response. “It was a shock to everyone when your ex, Zac Depp appeared on stage at your concert a couple weeks ago. What do you have to say about that?”
“I was pretty freaking shocked too. Never did I think that would ever happen, but I wasn’t going to let a desperate ex-boyfriend ruin my performance. I think I gave the audience a good show that night.” In moments like this, I have to laugh. It’s funny, everyone thinks that they have an inside scoop on my life because I’m a “celebrity”. What they don’t realize is that they haven’t even scratched the surface. My music tells a story, only it isn’t always my own.
“I’m also giving Bellamy the opportunity to ask me a question. The same rules as my interview with her as been, no off-limits questions.”
It doesn’t take me long to think about the one thing I’ve been dying to know. Ever since she displayed me for everyone else to see, I’ve had to know. “Why did you feel the need to blast my nudes out for everyone to see? As a woman, how could you be okay with doing that?”
Summer breathes, and I watch her swallow. She didn’t anticipate me asking her this question. That’s good. I caught her off guard. “I will be the first to admit that what I did that day was completely classless. I’m not apologizing because we’re on a live feed and I feel like it will help me with my viewers. I want to apologize to you because at that point in my life I was immature, my career was more important than the person who the story was about. I didn’t view you as a person, I viewed you as a story which would boost my following. I’m sorry for that.”
Out of everything that has happened in this interview I never expected to get an apology from Summer Poole. Her hand was stirring the pot that destroyed my reputation, that has taken me such a long time to build back up. I can only be thankful now that my reputation is beginning to be repaired, even if Zac is threatening it again with a video.
I finished the interview with Summer, much more relaxed than I thought that I was going to be afterwards. Rocky, Slash, and I all went out to dinner at a nearby sports bar. I needed a beer and some ribs after that. I was going to grub out one way or another. Shoot, I deserved any food I wanted after surviving that interview without killing her!
After dinner Slash and I decided to go drive into New York City on the back of his bike. It was late, and we were allowed to check into the hotel by this point. It just made more sense to drive into the city so we could both relax. Butch not being here had me on edge anyway. All I wanted to do was get to the hotel, take a bubble bath, and go to sleep.
Slash and I made it to the hotel but were told our room wasn’t ready yet and to come back in an hour. We made our way to the bar across the street and enjoyed a few drinks, both letting loose a little bit. He didn’t look as freaked out as he did earlier in the day. Who knew, maybe he was just sick or something.
After a total count of six beers and two Moscow Mules, we both checked out, pa
ying the tab and started to walk across the street.
“Well, Slash. Haven’t seen you around these parts in a long ass time.” I turn behind me and see a man not too far away. He has a cut on just like Slash does, only his reads “Iron Vex”.
“Chuckles,” Slash stoically says. He looks to me quickly, his words coming out as quick as they possibly can “Run. Get out of here Bell-!” but it’s no use; before he even finishes saying my name, I’ve hit the ground.
Everything goes black.
Chapter 24
She is both, hellfire and holy water. And the flavor you taste depends on how you treat her. -Sneha Pal
Butch
I just left her there in Camden, knowing that she was having one of the most nerve wracking interviews of her life. Fuck. I am such a dick.
I didn’t make it past Philly when I decided it was best to turn back. I didn’t hear her out at all, I let my anger get the best of me and simply reacted. Something my Ma told me I inherited from my dear ol’ dad.
I stopped at an exit and pulled a cigarette out from my back pocket. I don’t smoke often, I’d probably say that I’m a recreational smoker or a stress smoker. Maybe a tad bit of both. Some people drink a few beers or go grab a cheeseburger, I just light up a Marlboro.
As time passed I couldn’t think of what to do, if I should go back to Camden or maybe just ride up to New York and meet her there. Did she even want to see me after how I just walked out? I wouldn’t want to see me. That’s for sure.
My phone began to buzz in my pocket, when I pull it out I see Seamus’ name drawn on the screen. “Hey.”
“Hey. How’s it going with your Sugar?”
“I’m the only one who gets to call her that,” I warn.
“Point taken. How are things?”