Craving Talon (13 page)

“Talon?” I slow my walk, we’re about ten feet from the door and both he and Kyle slow with me.
 

“Yes, angel?”
 

“I’m worried about something.”
 

“What?” he says sweetly.
 

“I’m worried that… that you think I’m… oh, how the hell do I put this?” I step out of his hold. “I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to take over the band.”
 

He scowls at me. “Explain, please?”
 

“I’m afraid that with all this hype surrounding our little ‘Your Eyes’ stunt and then coming up with ‘To Be Free’ that you think I’m trying to join the band or take it over, or be a part of everything you guys do going forward. I’m afraid that…oh hell, I’m afraid that you think using me, or having me sing with you, is the reason for the sudden rush of fame and fortune or that I’m using you to make a career and a name for myself.”
 

He doesn’t say anything for a heartbeat and it scares me. “Sweet heavens, no. Addison, I, shit, I would never use you for my career. If my career died tomorrow, it would be okay. I would be okay. As far as you making a name for yourself, I brought you on that stage in Phoenix, you never asked, you never expressed any interest in singing with me. Your reluctance to sing publicly tells me that. I’ve never thought that and I pray to god I never gave you that impression because if I did, it was not meant that way.” He steps closer to me, grabbing my upper arms in his hands, staring down at me. “I love singing with you. I love playing for you, and I love writing songs for you, but if you told me no, you wouldn’t sing with me, I’d be sad because a gift as beautiful as yours needs to be shared with the world. But I wouldn’t be mad or hold it against you. If you told me you wanted off of the tour completely, to go back to LA, to walk away from it, Jesus, you’d break my fucking heart, but I’d let you. Addison, everything you’re doing is your choice. I never intended to hold you to that pre-orgasm promise I made you give me. Hell no, some people are not cut out for this lifestyle, but you, they broke the mold with you, angel, because you’re one of a kind.”

Tears streak down my cheeks at his declaration. He didn’t have to say the words, but the raw emotion is there in his voice. “You make me better. You make me believe in myself, you make me everything I’ve ever wanted to be and to feel.” He continues and more tears flow. I feel Kyle come up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, pressing me to him. Talon’s thumbs stroke my cheeks, wiping away my tears. “You and Kyle, you’re my everything. If I have you two, then I don’t need this,” he breathes as his lips land on mine in a soft, heartfelt kiss that leaves me breathless.
 

I take his head in my hands, holding him to me, feeling his beard beneath my fingers, the softness of his skin and the depth of emotion in his eyes. He pulls back, kisses my forehead and then he releases one arm to take Kyle’s face in his hand. “I mean it,” he says to Kyle who squeezes his arms tighter around me.
 

“I know you do,” Kyle says with a whisper.
 

The words are never exchanged. They don’t have to be said. It’s implied behind his words and emotion, I can feel it in Kyle’s embrace and in the bond the three of us share together. It’s been barely a week, and everything in my life has shifted and flipped and turned right side up. I never knew it was all so upside down until these two walked into my life.
 

When I think about all the times I was hit on, all the times I brushed them off like they were nothing, it makes me wonder now if it was because I knew that something bigger and better was coming for me. Though in my wildest dreams, I never imagined it would be in the form of these two men.

Over the course of the next few hours, everything falls back to normal. The sound check went awesome and being on stage was a comfort I wasn’t expecting. I didn’t realize how comfortable I’d gotten with the idea until I was back on stage, front and center. I know the next time I’m up there singing will rattle my nerves more than anything I thought possible but I find great comfort in Talon while singing with him.
 

Every time the number in attendance runs through my head I tense up. Fuck, I’ve never been in front of that many people other than to wave, but the lights were so bright the only thing I could do was hear their chants of delight.
 

As show time approaches, my nerves get more and more rattled. Talon says that he will wait until the second hour of the set to bring me out. Which doesn’t make me feel any better at all. It just gives me more time to freak out.
 

While getting dressed I must have changed my outfit a hundred times. Clothes are strewn everywhere in the little room Kyle and I once shared. Though it was brief, it’s no longer ours. It’s empty. But Talon insists we keep it. It gives us each a private space to get away, something he knows we’re all going to need, eventually.
 

Anyway, the corset didn’t work, the ink is still too new and painful. I barely had it on before I pulled it off again, knowing full well that my ability to breathe would be cut off. That’s kind of important when you’re singing. Fuck, I’m singing. Gah, see what I mean? I can’t even concentrate on getting dressed.
 

So I settle on a tank top, if you want to call it that, because it’s only about half of one. Literally. There is a princess line that runs under my breasts, that is part of the strap that wraps around my shoulder and hooks to the top in the front. There is also a very thick strap that runs from one side to the other across my back. It flares out and lands just below the belt line on the skirt that I’m wearing. I’m still wearing the black, fluffy skirt I’d planned on wearing earlier, just with the new top, which is white by the way.
 

After the argument about the clothes, I realize now, when I was trying this all on, that most of the tops were purchased with my ink in mind. Showing off my arms at the very least, then of course my back whenever possible.
 

“If you’re wearing that, you might want these.” I turn to see Talon pulling out one of the white bags that was tucked into my new big suitcase. He pulls out two sticker looking things.

“Pasties?” Is he joking.
 

“Yeah, you know, since you can’t wear a bra.” He looks very pointedly at my chest and of course my nipples harden into tight peaks. My nipples are not small by any means and they are clearly visible through my top.
 

“Damn it,” I mumble.
 

He laughs. “Oh believe me, they’re perfect.” He brushes the back of his hand along one of them, making it pebble once again. “I don’t want to share them with the world.”
 

“Should I change?” I ask.
 

“No, you look amazing. And because of the ink, you wearing a bra isn’t possible, so no matter what you wear, you’re going to have the same problem.”
 

“Curse stupid big ass nipples,” I grumble, more to myself.
 

“Can I ask you something personal?” He looks almost terrified.
 

“You want to know why the implants?” He blushes and nods slightly.
 

I smile at him. “Because I was all nipple. That’s all I had for breasts, basically, was nipples. Here.” I grab my phone where I keep the before and after pictures. I scroll through until I find the one of me before the surgery. “See.” I turn the phone to show him. “It wasn’t a very big confidence booster, trust me. It’s hard to have anyone take you seriously when you’re so flat chested. I did it about six years ago. I wanted something to help make me feel sexy and confident because what I had certainly didn’t.”
 

“I think you were gorgeous even then.”
 

I smile. “Well, thank you.”
 

“Why did you go so big?” he asks with honest curiosity.
 

“Because it fit me better. I wanted confidence and sexiness all in one package. Though I can’t say the boob job gave me that, but it made me feel better about myself and my body. After careful consideration I decided the D’s were more proportional to my body size and type. I’d hoped the nipples would have settled down but I think they actually got bigger.”
 

His hand brushes against them again. “They’re perfect. Just like you.”
 

I smile and blush at his compliment. “If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t hesitate. All the pain, swelling, and everything I went through with adjusting to them, I’d do it all again just to hear that compliment.” I cup his cheek. “Thank you for that.”
 

“Pshhh.” He blows it off. “You deserved it.”
 

I blush a little bit more and he finally pulls back. Thank god, because if he kept going, I’d have to strip him down and we don’t have time.

“Want some help?” he asks.

“You just want to see ‘em,” I chide.
 

“Maybe. Can you blame me?”
 

“No I can’t, but you have a show to do. Now leave me be so I can make it less distracting for you to sing,” I giggle.

Ugh, stupid pasties make my nipples itch. I know damn well each time my nipples try to harden because I can feel it pulling. But after a good solid look in the mirror, I agree with Talon. They will make a huge difference in not showing my nipples to the world. Though you can still see them slightly, it is nothing like it was when Talon was in here.
 

I’m surprised he asked the question, though not directly. I have no problem explaining to anyone who asks. Ironically, he’s the first. When I’m clothed, it’s harder to tell, but when you see me, like they have, it’s obvious that I’ve had the work done. The scars faded away, but in just the right light, or in the right position, they pucker funny. All in all though, I’ve seen some pretty botched jobs, and mine look pretty fucking good. Lest we forget that I haven’t had the unfortunate pleasure of losing sensation, as he so expertly pointed out. I don’t care. I love my tits. What can I say?
 

Alright, enough about my boobs. I finish with my hair, going with a similar style to what I wore to Cami’s last night. Up, but curly. I’m allowing myself to embrace Talon’s request to show myself off a little more.
 

“Come on, Addie,” Someone shouts from up front. “Time to roll.” I look at my watch and it is five minutes to eight. The guys elected to skip the pre-show party, sending a message through Kyle that they would all be available after the show. I think the couple of days off has worn them down more than they thought, so getting pumped back up is taking a little longer. I can’t say I blame them. Add to that the start of a very long and super busy couple of weeks.
 

We’re here in Albuquerque tonight and by this time next week we will be in OKC, after Galveston, Dallas and New Orleans. Once we hit Kansas, we don’t stop until Chicago, then things settle a little into Ohio, a long stay in Philly, then Boston and finally on to New York. At least at this point in time, if they choose to extend the tour, there isn’t room. Not unless they’re gonna start flying us everywhere and the guys get a second set of instruments.
 

“Come on, panda girl,” Kyle shouts back. I fluff my hair, check my lipstick and oh fuck it, it is what it is.
 

When I come around the corner, the bus is empty except for my two men. Who of course are drooling all over themselves like idiots. “I’d expect this from Dex, or Mouse or even Peacock, but you both know damn well you get to unwrap this package at the end of the night, so why the drool?” I tease them.
 

“Because you don’t understand just how fucking gorgeous you are,” Kyle says with a smile.
 

Because of the skirt I have on tonight, I’m only wearing a pair of Docs, so I am much shorter to these two knuckleheads and they of course take full advantage by kissing my forehead and the top of my head when I wrap my arms around them. “Come on, let’s go.”