Total pages in book: 200
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 760(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
I will never forget the hard yet vulnerable look on his face as he spilled inside the condom. It was so beautiful that for a careless second, I wished it was me he had filled.
Staring into each other’s eyes, we shared our vulnerability until the moment ended abruptly when Houston dropped me on my feet. He hadn’t been gentle when he was inside of me. I didn’t know what I was expecting now that he was done.
We only had moments before we were caught, and keeping what we’d just done a secret was probably the one thing we’d ever agree on. Now that Houston was no longer inside of me, rational thinking had returned.
Houston shoved my skirt back into place before ripping off the condom and tossing it in a nearby bush. I was tempted to scold him for littering but realized how ridiculous that would be under the circumstances. I watched him fix his jeans and wondered how I could find a simple act so damn sexy. He then ran his fingers through his hair, trying to fix what I’d wronged. I couldn’t even recall gripping and running my fingers through his thick brown hair as he rode me, but the evidence was there.
“Not a word of this to anyone,” he whispered sharply when the roadies along with Loren and Rich were close enough for us to hear their conversations clearly.
I could even make out Loren proselytizing the use of night cream before fine lines and wrinkles had a chance to show. I’d never known a guy so meticulous about his appearance. It only made him more unique to me.
“I’m not an idiot, Houston.”
What we had done was wrong on so many levels. We played together, and he treated me like shit he’d stepped in and couldn’t get off his shoe.
Our biggest offense was Loren.
We both knew he wanted something more with me, and what did I do? I fucked his best friend.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
It was happening all over again.
My threads were beginning to unravel, and this was just the start.
Whore.
Harlot.
“Are we done here?” I snapped at Houston. I needed to hide and never show my face again.
“No. One more thing.” As he held me arrested with his stern gaze, I knew I wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to say. “If you find yourself with an itch you can’t control, I’m the one who scratches it.” He paused to let the words sink in. “The only one, Braxton. We clear on that?”
No. Not even a little bit.
“The only thing you get to tell me is what songs we’re playing on Friday night. I’m not interested in anything else.” I turned to go when he gripped my nape. My back slammed against his chest a moment later.
“Make this the last time I tell you,” he said as he pressed his mouth against my ear. “Stay away from Loren and don’t even think about Rich. That pussy’s mine now.”
He shoved me away.
I had a knack for sensing when something happened between Braxton and one of my best friends. I found them standing too close and a little disheveled even though they were both fully clothed. It was in the small details, such as the hickey on Braxton’s neck that hadn’t been there an hour ago and the corner of Houston’s shirt sticking through the open fly of his jeans.
A blind man could tell that they’d screwed.
Loren was a few paces behind me, trading fucking beauty tips with the makeup artist we hired for Braxton—who right now looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her whole.
I made a quick decision.
I decided I didn’t want to spend the rest of the tour breaking up the fights between Houston and Lo. Yanking Houston’s shirt from his fucking jeans, I let him see my disapproval before turning to Braxton. Her hair was pinned up, and for once, I didn’t bother asking permission. I undid the messy bun at the top of her head and watched the red waves fall around her shoulder, hiding the hickey taking form.
She stared at me with those wide eyes that I once thought so innocent, and since I wasn’t as cruel as Houston or Loren, I didn’t let her see my disgust before turning away.
Braxton was every bit the tease Loren accused her of being, but I never took Houston for a hypocrite. Since the day she joined our band, he made it clear Braxton was a no-fucking-go, and then the moment our backs were turned, he fucked her.
The real irony was that I knew him too well. In the space between betraying us, screwing Braxton, and getting caught, I’d bet my life that he’d already claimed her. He couldn’t keep us from doing what we wanted, so he switched tactics and decided to take Braxton for himself.