Dissent (19 page)

I
let my body relax into his, enjoying the sensation, liking that, for
once, his touch wasn't sexual. It was just friendly, familiar.

“Alright,”
Jay said, and I moved quickly away from Isaiah, “found Todd.
Some kid had him trapped backstage discussing drums. Burt is coming.
We are going to The Bluestone. I already called and got six rooms.
It's all set up.”

“You're
the best,” I said, walking over and kissing his cheek.
Sometimes, not often, but on a rare occasion, he was able of behaving
like a rational adult.

If
there was one plus side to being stalked by a crazy fan, it was
getting to sleep on a bed big enough to roll around in... and swim
some laps in a pool.

Sixteen

The
Bluestone was a gorgeous old, well, blue stone building with a lavish
upscale lobby and plush off-white carpets in the hallways which must
have taken a whole team of maids to keep clean. Half of us were led
to the top floor, leaving Todd, Joey, and Burt one floor below. I
sacrificed the presidential suite to Jay who would utilize the space
with his, sure to be epic, party.

I
was led to a room, tipped the bellman, and as I closed the door, saw
Isaiah be led to the room across from me. Of course.

The
room was luxurious. There was a huge kind sized bed with gorgeous
white bedding and a tan padded headboard. The carpet matched the
hallways and there were floor to ceiling windows taking up the far
wall with thin white sheers. I grabbed a change of clothes out of my
bag and made my way to the bathroom, all warm tan tile and a huge
glass shower. I walked over and slipped under the spray, greedy to
wash the night away, to relax some of the tension in my body.

The
better part of an hour later, I walked back into my room in a pair of
panties and one of Jay's old t-shirts that came down to about
mid-thigh. A knock at my door had my heart flying upward. I reached
for my throat, walking toward the door and looking out the peephole
to find Isaiah there, hair wet from his own shower.

I
pulled the lock and opened the door and he held out a to-go coffee at
me. “Jay brought these back with him, but you didn't answer
your door so he left yours with me.”

I
took the coffee between my hands and shrugged. “You want to
come in for a minute?” I asked, knowing it was probably a bad
idea. Knowing where it was going to lead.

“Sure,”
he said, looking around the room, walking over toward the windows and
pulling the sheers open. “You have a nice view.”

“So
why aren't you at Jay's shindig?” I asked, walking up next to
him to look out.

“My
liver needs a break,” he laughed, looking over at me.

“Yeah,
Jay's pace isn't meant for a normal human being. I think some people
are just born with a rock star gene that allows them to party as hard
as they do.”

“Not
you, huh?”

“No,
I think one rock star in a band is plenty.”

Isaiah
reached out, taking my coffee from my hands, then placing both of
them down on the dresser. He turned back to me, a certain ease about
him that I found intoxicating. His hand moved upward, touching my
cheek. “So...” he said.

“So,”
I agreed, turning my head slightly and kissing the palm of his hand.

It
was a raw, sweet moment and I wanted to sink into it forever, but a
slow, sly smile was spreading across his face. “Guess what?”

“What?”
I asked.

He
reached into his pocket, pulling out a silver condom foil. “I
have one of these now.” There was a long pause and I knew he
wasn't done because he was still grinning. “I stole it from
your bunk.”

“Went
through all of yours already?” I asked, rolling my eyes. “You
whore.”

“Well
there's this woman,” he said, leaning down, pulling the collar
of my shirt wide, and kissing along my shoulder.

“There
always is,” I said, leaning my head to the other side as his
lips started moving up the side of my neck.

“I
can't get her off my mind. No matter how many other women I have.”
His teeth grazed my jawbone and I let out a shaky breath. “But
she just wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Stupid
woman,” I said, reaching for the back of his neck and pulling
him up, taking his lips to mine.

“Mmmhmm,”
he murmured against my lips. “But I think she's, ah, warming up
to me,” he said, nipping into my bottom lip.

“You
better be worth the wait then,” I said, slipping my tongue past
his lips to toy with his. His arms went around me hard, pulling me
against him, as his lips pressed the kiss deeper. Until I felt like I
was floating. Until there was nothing in the world except his lips
and teeth and breath.

His
hands moved down my back, grabbing the hem of my shirt and hauling it
up. “Don't worry,” he said, running his hands down the
front of my shoulders, grazing over my breasts, then down my stomach.
“I will be.”

I
felt a shiver of anticipation, watching as his hands slid over my
skin, across my hips, up my sides. “You seem pretty sure of
yourself,” I said, trying to lighten the mood which felt heavy
with some emotion I wasn't familiar with.

He
made a low chuckling sound, his hand moving toward the center of my
body and lazily working upward until he was brushing my neck with his
fingertips. Then suddenly his hand closed around my throat, pressing
down hard and forcing my face up. “Trust me,” he said,
pressing harder, “anytime you are touching yourself alone in
your bed from now on, you're fucking going to me thinking about me.”

His
thumb moved upward, brushing hard across my lips. I swallowed hard.
“All talk,” I said, my voice weak, but his eyes lowered
with the challenge.

His
hand moved down again, between my breasts, over my navel, then
sliding just barely underneath the material of my panties, twisting,
then ripping them off hard enough to make me stumbled forward. And it
was the hottest fucking thing I'd ever experienced. I reached out,
grabbing at his shirt and pulling it awkwardly up until his hands
grabbed it and pulled it off, my hands going to his pants, pushing
out the button and pulling the zipper down. I grabbed his pants,
dragging them downward, lowering myself onto my knees in front of
him.

My
hand went to his hard cock, grabbing it at the base and leading it
toward my mouth. But his hand reached out, grabbing a handful of hair
at the base of my neck and pulling hard until I looked up at him.
“You want to suck my cock again?” he asked.

I
pressed my legs together at the rush of desire. Oh, god yes. Yes a
million times. I wanted him at the point that I was: desperate,
unable to think about anything but him inside of me. “Yes,”
I said, stroking his cock once. Finding no resistance, I lowered my
head, opening my mouth. Before I could even think about taking him
in, the hand at the back of my head shoved me forward, making me take
him in deep, pushing hard against the back of my throat, making me
gag hard.

“Look
up at me,” he said and I did, a tear slipping down the side of
my face from the choking. He closed his eyes, taking a breath, then
released my hair. “Get up,” he demanded, pulling out of
my mouth.

I
slowly got to my feet, wiping my lips and smiling slightly. “You're
very deman...”

“Get
on the bed,” he instructed, his tone almost detached. Cold.
While I was all fire. I made my way to the bed, getting on top of it,
sitting back on my heels, watching him. He walked over toward the end
of the bed, opening the condom foil, watching me for a moment, then
quickly slipping it on. “Bend over.”

I
felt a pang of desire so strong it was almost painful. I didn't need
wine and roses. I didn't need hours of foreplay. I needed him inside
me. Right that moment. Deep. And that was exactly what he was giving
me. I moved to follow his instructions and felt the mattress give
under his weight as he came up behind me.

His
hands reached for my ass before one settled on my hip and the other
pressed up the center of my back. Once between my shoulder blades, he
pushed down hard until I lowered my chest down onto the mattress,
then slid back down to my hips. His fingers reached for the sensitive
skin of the backs of my knees, brushing slowly up the backs of my
thighs, then one slipped between them, trailing over my slick heat
before two fingers thrust into my pussy, unexpected, making me jump
and groan.

I
didn't get a second to register the feeling before his fingers
started thrusting fast in and out, making my hands grab the sheets,
sending me gasping for breath. But just when I thought I might
finally get relief from the pressure that was building deep inside,
heavy, coiled, his fingers pulled out. But only for the barest of
seconds before his cock slammed hard into me, making my knees push
upward off the mattress with the force.

“Fuck,”
I groaned, turning my head to the side, pushing myself up to get
closer.

But
his hand went back between my shoulders, holding me against the
mattress. “Stay down,” he growled, his voice strained and
low. And then his hands were on my hips, using them to hold me still
as he thrust into me, hard and fast, pushing as deep inside me as he
could get each time, the head so deep I felt a pinching sensation
with each thrust that I found at once worrisome and intolerably hot.
I groaned, trying to press back into him, trying to drive myself to
the edge faster.

But
he stopped thrusting, pushing hard on my hips until I laid flat on
the mattress. His arms reached out, grabbing my wrists and holding
them down on the bed on the sides of my head as he lowered his body
down on mine, his cock pressing into me again. Completely immobile, I
writhed against him, crying out loud enough for the whole hall to
hear me, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was his body: his
breath by my ear, his hands bruising into my wrists, his cock
slamming into me in a raw, animalistic pace that no one had ever
shown me before. A complete lack of self control, forcing me to lose
mine as well.

“Isaiah,”
I yelled, crashing into my orgasm, my insides pulsating at a frantic
pace over and over as he kept thrusting into me hard, dragging it
out, making my entire body start to shake in the aftershocks before
he came hard, burying deep and staying there as his head fell down
next to mine.

“Jesus
fucking Christ, Darcy,” he growled in my ear, his hands
releasing my wrists which burned from his grip. “You alright?”
he asked, pushing himself up. “You're trembling.” He slid
out of me, getting onto his feet behind me. “Darcy,” he
said, sounding concerned. “Answer me.”

But
words weren't a concept I could understand in that moment. I was just
a slave to my overwhelmed body. Everything felt far away as my body
shook like I had walked outside naked in the middle of December.
Uncontrollable and strange.

“Darcy,”
he said, again, his voice softer. Then he was getting back onto the
bed, laying down beside me and pulling me until I laid over his
chest. His fingers brushed the hair away, then stroked gently up my
back, light, comforting. The shocks slowly subsided and I felt an
unexpected rush of emotion that had a sob catching in my throat. “You
okay?” he asked again as I laid still against him, trying to
rationally fight past the irrational urge to cry.

“Yeah,”
I said, my voice shaky.

“Come
on,” he said, pulling away from me and moving up the bed.
“Let's get you under the covers. You're freezing.”

I
was. I crawled up the bed and climbed under the covers, rolling onto
my side away from him, bringing my knees up toward my belly. I
expected him to leave me alone. To lay on his side of the bed. To get
up and get dressed and go back to his room. But he simply turned on
his side too and slid in behind me, his arm draping across mine and
his face in my neck.

“Was
that too rough?” he asked, sounding genuinely worried that he
crossed a line. I shook my head. It wasn't that. I didn't think. The
sex had been good. No, not good. Fucking phenomenal. Life changing. I
had thrived in it. “Then what's wrong?”

“I
don't know,” I said honestly. I wasn't someone who confused sex
with feelings. I wasn't sentimental about a physical act. But he was
right, something was off. I was just too exhausted to consider what
it might be.

“Okay,”
he said, turning his face slightly and kissing my neck. “Maybe
you're overly tired.”

“Maybe,”
I agreed. But it wasn't that. I didn't feel tired. I doubt I could
sleep if I tried.