Dissent (5 page)

“Hopefully
someone,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “I sent a text to
everyone. So if no one has anything better to do...”

“It's
a Tuesday night,” he shrugged. “And I don't think anyone
would miss out on showing their face at one of your parties. In case
you have been too wasted to remember, there usually ends up being a
lot of nudity. Yours included,” he smiled, wiggling his
eyebrows at me.

“Yes,
well...” I started, shaking my head at myself. My sober self
wasn't a huge fan of social conventions and rules. My drunk self was
downright slutty and stupid. Which was probably not the best way to
behave with a possible drop-in from my sexy, tortured neighbor. I
would forget all about our little 'who has the stronger self-control'
game. I'd drag him to my bed in under an hour. So... yeah. That
couldn't happen. “I'm not drinking tonight.”

Jay
glanced over his shoulder at me, brow lowered. “We'll see how
that goes.”

I
ignored him as I opened the door for the caterers and made my way
down the hallway. I showered, did my hair, threw on a little eyeliner
because I felt naked without it, then slipped into a black and white
horizontal striped mini skirt and a filmy yellow off the shoulder
shirt. Comfortable and casual. It was nice to not wear a corset and
fishnets and heavy boots for a change. Sometimes you just needed to
wear things that weren't binding and blister-inducing.

“What
are these for?” Jay asked when I walked back in, holding up a
paperback of
Far From The Madding Crowd.
Which was one of the
three Thomas Hardy novels I had included with a few other choice
authors for Isaiah's welcome basket.

“Oh,
be a lamb and put those outside of my neighbors door on your way
out,” I said, sneaking a carrot and dip off of one of the party
trays. Jay let the healthy food slide because he would eventually
order a dozen greasy pizzas when people started to arrive.

“You
bought your neighbor... books?”

“He
likes to read,” I shrugged.

“Oh,
he
does, does
he
?” he asked smirking.

“Shut
up and go shower and get back here. Don't make me entertain people
all by myself.”

Three
hours later, my apartment was swamped. The balcony was ridiculously
crowded, people having to turn sideways to slink through the crowd.
Jay had hooked up the sound system and the music was blaring out of
the speakers. He was in the pool, charming four, yes... four,
different women out of their bikini tops. If I didn't watch him, he
would fuck all of them right there in the pool in front of everyone.

Everywhere
and everyone reeked of alcohol. I had cleaned up a good twenty spills
inside before I started carrying the booze outside and instructed the
caterers to do the same with the food. Most people wanted to be out
by the pool anyway. And tomorrow's clean up would be a lot better if
all I had to do was hose off the patio.

There
still hadn't been an appearance from my sexy neighbor and I just...
wasn't feeling overly festive. I let myself back inside my apartment
which was blissfully empty, and sat down at my upright studio piano
which I had painted a deep purple.

I
didn't play much for shows. Most of our music was too loud, it would
drown out the sound altogether. But it was a habit from my youth that
I couldn't quite shake. Maybe because I had needed to work so hard at
it. Endless hours sitting down in that basement trying to force my
fingers to find the notes, trying to make my hands work separately.
If there was any skill it would be foolish to forget, it would be
classic piano.

My
fingers ran over the keys once, finding my place and started to play,
a slow, mournful song of no particular origin.

I
don't know how long I played. Minutes. Hours. It didn't matter. I
felt someone slide onto the bench beside me and, assuming it was Jay,
ignored him as he straddled the space next to me.

The
last notes hit high and expectant then sank low, my fingers stilling
above the keys.

“That
was sad,” a voice, that was decidedly not Jay's, said.

My
head turned quickly to the side, taking in the deep green eyes of my
neighbor. It was then that I felt his knee brushing my thigh, his
body heat from being so close. “Yeah,” I agreed, looking
back down at the piano.

“Did
you write it?”

“Yep,”
I said, realizing I had... just off the top of my head.

“It
sounds like you,” he said, his voice low.

“You
think I'm sad?” I asked, turning my head to face him again, my
brows drawn together. People might have accused me of being a lot of
things: angry, angsty, reckless, crazy. But never sad.

“I
think you're beautiful,” he countered and I tried to ignore the
quick flip-flop sensation in my stomach.

I
took a deep breath. “So are you enjoying the party?” I
asked, wanting to move away, but knowing I couldn't.

“Mmmhmm,”
he murmured, reaching out toward me and stroking my hair behind my
ear. His hand sat there for a second before sliding slowly down the
side of my neck, brushing across my shoulder. His eyes were watching
me as if looking for some kind of objection, some sign of retreat.
Finding none, his fingers stroked lower, toying with the slanted
neckline of my shirt. Then his hand flattened out and the palm
brushed over my breast, settling and holding it, his thumb brushing
once casually over the nipple and making it strain against the
fabric.

My
mouth fell slightly open, my breath escaping between my lips as I
pressed my legs together. How did he do that so easily? I'd always
had a healthy sex drive, from the first time I followed a lead
singer, about ten years too old for me but sexy as fuck, into the
back of his van and let him take my virginity on a pile of dirty
clothes, taking very little consideration for the pain and mess of
the whole thing and slamming into me over and over until he growled
out “I need to fuck more virgins. You're so fucking tight,”
and came.

Not
everyone got gentleness and love words when their cherries got
popped. At least I could say that I lost my v-card to metal's biggest
sex symbol since the eighties. He flew up the charts a few months
after our little tryst in his van. In general, I have always chosen
interesting over good.

This
whole thing with Isaiah Meyers was getting very, very interesting.

Because
I never let a man put his hands on me so fast. Not without me
initiating anyway. I enjoyed sex. I liked new partners. But they
never felt me up five feet from a hundred people I barely knew.

And
then his eyes lowered to my chest and before I could even gauge his
intention, his head dipped and his mouth closed around my nipple,
running his tongue over the hardened peak, making a throaty whimper
press its way out of my lips. His arm snaked around my back, stroking
my thigh before grabbing it hard and pulling it up and around the
bench until I was straddling it like him, my back pressed against his
chest.

His
hands went around me, slipping up under my shirt and running up my
stomach until they closed over my bare breasts. The hardened skin,
calloused and rough, made me arch into his touch, my head falling
back onto his shoulder. His head lowered, grabbing the lobe of my ear
and sucking on it, making my hands slam down on his thighs and dig
in.

There
was the sound of the sliding door to the balcony open and I flew away
from him, quickly turning to face the piano and slide my fingers over
the keys, just praying it wasn't Jay. Jay who would totally see the
flush to my cheeks and the wet mark over my breast. Jay who would
tease me mercilessly over it. I could feel Isaiah's eyes on me, but
fought to pretend he wasn't even there.

“Hey,
Darce,” a male voice said, shy, hesitant.

I
turned my head over my shoulder to find our drummer, Todd, tall and
thin, with a short crop of blonde hair and brown eyes. Everything
about Todd was reserved and hesitant. I had no idea how he put up
with the life of the road for as long as he had. “What's up,
Todd?” I asked, wincing at how husky my voice sounded.

“Umm...
well... Jay is kinda...”

“Oh,
great,” I broke in, shaking my head and smiling wryly at him.
“What is he doing now?”

“He's
ah... well...”

“Spit
it out,” I smiled kindly. “We're all perverted grown ups
here.”

His
shoulders slumped as he slipped his hands into his front pockets. I
actually wasn't sure if the poor guy had even known the touch of a
woman yet. Jay had tried to get him out of his shell once, but Todd
had always slunk away. “He's going down on some girl...”

“Oh
for fuck's sake,” I said getting up quickly, pulling the
neckline of my shirt so the wet spot was between my breasts and
walked out onto the balcony, not sparing Isaiah a glance. But I heard
him get up as I walked outside. “Jay!” I yelled to be
heard over the music, seeing the girl in question laying spread eagle
on a chaise, Jay buried between her thighs.

I
felt a body press behind me and heard Isaiah's low chuckle in my ear.
“Well that looks fun,” he said, snaking a hand around my
belly. “Want to grab a chaise?”

I
felt a shiver of anticipation before quickly stepping out of his hold
and moving toward Jay. There was really no delicate way to break up
oral sex, and chances were, Jay was way too far gone to respond to a
gentle rebuff. I reached down, grabbing a handful of his hair and
pulling roughly backward, making him slam hard onto the ground.
“Cover up,” I told the girl who quickly crossed her legs.

“We
were just having some fun, Darce,” Jay objected, smiling up at
me.

“Yeah
well you're going to have to take that kind of fun to the hotel
across the street.”

“Buzzkill,”
he objected, taking off toward the bar.

I
turned back around, expecting to see Isaiah, but he was nowhere in
sight. Which, really, was all for the best. I looked around to see if
there were any more fires that needed immediate extinguishing.
Finding none, I went back into my apartment and into my room, locking
the door. I was feeling frustrated. Both sexually and emotionally. I
needed to just take a couple minutes to myself.

I
walked back out when the sounds got quieter to find only a couple
dozen devoted souls left by the pool. Drinking and flirting. I
watched through the door as Isaiah put his arms around two girls
shoulders, smiling, and led them across the balcony toward his
apartment.

So
that was the way it was.

I
sighed, letting myself out onto the deck and grabbing a drink. Well
that was just as well.

Jay
nodded at me, toasting me across the patio with his drink.

Five

I
couldn't stop thinking about her. Literally couldn't. I kept getting
distracted at work all day, thinking about her naked body, thinking
about her foot toying with my cock. Thinking about getting to see her
again at her party.

I
fought the urge to go over as soon as I started to hear music and
people, not wanting to seem too eager, too desperate. When I finally
did go over, well, I hadn't been prepared for the crowd. Even the
parties I went to for work left a large amount of space to mill
around. Darcy's party left no open space. You had to rub up against
another person's back just to slip through the crowd.

It
took me the better part of an hour and a half to find her. I just so
happened to hear the notes of the piano when the song on the stereo
changed. And, sure enough, there she was, bent slightly forward, her
hair blocking her face from view as her hands flew over the keys,
sure and effortlessly.

I
listened from the doorway for a second before walking over and
sitting down. She didn't even notice my presence as she played,
seemingly completely lost in her music. When her hands played the
final notes, and I spoke, her shocked eyes had been almost comical.

Moving
her hair behind her ear had been innocent. I just wanted to see her
face, but when she looked at me with those striking eyes... yeah,
there was no going back. Touching her was like playing with
fireworks. Everything sparked. Every graze was like an explosion in
her body. She leaned into me, she whimpered, she wet her lips.
Everything subconscious I was sure. There wasn't a hint of hesitation
when my hand slid down to her breast, stroking over her nipple. Or
when I took it in my mouth.