Hawk and Dove (Rock Star Romance Novel) (13 page)

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a slight smile cross
her lips.

We look back at the bustling festival and linger beyond its
reach. There will be plenty of time for complications, and noise, and fervor.
But for right now, all I want in the world is to be alone with this person I’ve
managed to find among the masses.

We sip our beers in silence, looking on as the world turns
in front of our eyes. 

Chapter Eight

We spend the night migrating from place to place together,
flitting as we please between shows and parties. Roaming around the festival at
night, I feel more in my element than I have since Mitch and I rolled up to our
campsite in my crappy car.

The throbbing, chaotic energy of this young and vibrant
place is something that I can understand. Fame, attention, and celebrity may be
far beyond what I’m able to grasp, but this is a world I know how to navigate.
In the night, anonymity is ours again. The entire population of the festival
gives itself up to the booze-soaked, drug-addled evening and finally leaves us
alone for a spell.

I’m not one to let a good party pass me by, and the past few
days have certainly warranted a little letting loose on my part.

With Trent in tow, I throw myself into the current of the
festivities. Soon, we’ve stumbled into the fray and procured a couple of
drinks, then a couple more. I’ve made up my mind not to care about propriety
tonight.

I’ve spent my entire time at Hawk and Dove this year
worrying about my every move, and what’s come of it? I’m fighting with my only band
mate, and locked in a frustrated stalemate with the mysterious, irresistible
man currently swigging rum by my side.

As the alcohol starts to dull my anxiety, I finally start to
forget about the abrupt end that my kiss with Trent came to earlier tonight.

In fact, his entire concert is a pleasant blur in my memory.
The show was truly astounding—I never listen to music that intense, and I was
blown away by how it got to me. So blown away, in fact, that I all but threw
myself at Trent as soon as he came off the stage. It seemed like he wanted me,
but I sensed a reluctance in him and backed off.

But I can still feel the pent-up attraction between us
growing bigger with every passing moment. What are we supposed to do, if not
let ourselves go? What’s lingering between us, and obstructing what we both so
badly want?

The night rages on, and I match Trent drink for drink. When
happy strangers offer us hits off their joints, we accept graciously. I don’t
usually party this heavily, but all the rules I’m used to organizing my life
with seem to be suspended, these days.

As I become more and more intoxicated, my awareness of Trent
grows razor sharp. I’m keyed in to his every gesture, his every expression. We
move through the festival as a pair, stealing touches and glances, trying to
read each other’s altered minds.

As my high reaches a fever pitch, a low, throbbing bass line
catches my ear. I grab hold of Trent’s hand and tow him toward the sound. We
race along and surface under a huge tent. A DJ is spinning heavy, pulsing
beats, and a crowd of hundreds is gyrating and writhing on the dance floor.

I grin up at Trent in the darkness as wild, flashing lights
spin overhead. His face breaks into a wide, wicked smile as I pull him out into
the crowd. We weave through couples and groups of dancers, each locked in their
own private universes. Even though we’re in a sea of people, it still feels
more private here than it has since I met Trent just a couple of days ago. It’s
like we’ve finally found a place that we can’t, and won’t, be followed. As long
as we keep moving, it’s just the two of us alone in the world.

As we reach the center of the bumping, twisting crowd, I
spin around to face Trent. His every muscle seems loosened, and even his smile
is less controlled. I like this side of him—this unburdened, free-wheeling
version.

I take a step toward him, letting my body find its way into
the music. He looks down at me intently, eyes locked on the swaying of my hips.
I lay my hands on his chest, letting my shoulders dip and sway. My hands have a
mind of their own, wander down along the firm muscles of Trent’s chest, coming
to rest finally on his hips.

“You’re quite the dancer,” he says over the music. His voice
is scraping against the bottom of his register, and the lusty thickness fills
me with wanting.

“I know a couple of moves, I guess,” I say. Pivoting, I turn
my back to him and close the space between our bodies. I let out a low moan as
I feel him start to grow hard against me. I felt him before, back behind the
curtains at his concert. I could feel then that he wanted me, just like I feel it
now.

So what in the world have we been wasting time for?

His hands fall upon my waist once more, caressing the dips
of my hourglass figure. I feel his fingers tighten as the bulge in his jeans
grows even more firm. He lets his hands wander across my tummy, trailing over
the twin peaks of my hips and up, stopping just short of my breasts. I lean
back into him, grinding against him with abandon. I love the feel of his hands
on me, exploring my body as they please.

Though there are hundreds of people all around us, it feels
like we’re the only two people on the planet.

I turn back to Trent, looking up into those bright green
eyes that never fail to swallow me up. He tugs me against him, wanting me to
feel his desire pressed up against me. I bury my fingers in his messy curls,
letting my breasts push up between us. There’s no mistaking the need in his
eyes, and I’m through playing games. I lean in close to his ear and whisper,
“If you don’t get me out of here, I’ll have no choice but to have you right
here in front of all these people.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” he growls, “We entertain
these people plenty enough as it is.”

He takes hold of my hand and weaves off through the mass of
people all around us.

Though simple, the mere touch of his hand sends sparking
ripples of desire through me. I’m not usually the one to initiate things like
this—to say what I want without fear. But something about Trent gives me
courage. Something about how we understand each other makes it easy to speak
what my heart, and what my body, wants above all.

We break free of the crowd, stumbling just a little. His
strong arms steady me as we route a course back to the campsite. All around us,
parties are raging through the night. The sky is still pitch black, with dawn
lurking hours away, yet.

We race through the mad, wild world of the festival. All
around us, people are shouting and laughing, drinking and smoking, falling on
each other as lovers and fighters both. I’d forgotten how intoxicating this
place can be, in all senses of the word. But the madness doesn’t derail us—if
anything it only adds to our fervor.

Clutching onto each other, Trent and I finally find
ourselves at the base of the hill on which the talent campsite stands. The
incline seems higher than Everest in our current state, but we set to climbing
all the same. With every step, I can feel the throbbing need building up in the
very core of my body. I know it’s been growing there since the moment I laid
eyes on Trent in the flesh, despite my attempts to ignore it.

Well, for tonight at least, I’m through trying to turn a
blind eye to what I want.

We stagger over the top of the hill, chests heaving. I
swear, I could take him right here on this little patch of grass. His arm is
hooked protectively around my waist as he leads me forward through the deserted
camp. Everyone else is still down among the revelers, it would seem. We have
the entire hilltop to ourselves.

We hurry around my own modest little camp, but I see no
signs of life. I haven’t checked on my band mate since I put him back to bed
this morning, but I have no room for Mitch in my thoughts right now. All I can
think of is Trent—
all
of Trent.

“My guys won’t be back until sunrise,” he whispers to me,
pulling me onto the tour bus.

“Good,” I say, “Because you’re going to be occupied for a
while.”

As the door snaps closed behind us, I throw my arms around
Trent’s broad shoulders. His hands fall on the swell of my ass, pulling me
tightly against him. Our mouths meet in a searching, eager kiss. His strong tongue
glides against mine as his fingers dig deeply into my skin.

All the matters in the world at this moment is those hands,
that mouth, this amazing person before me.

I let out a gasp as Trent hoists me up into the air as if I
were weightless. I throw my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles behind
him. He suspends me before him as I kiss him with an urgency I’ve never known.

I bite his firm bottom lip ever-so-lightly, drawing a
rumbling groan from his throat. I can feel him throbbing against me, now. All
that separates his thick, pulsing manhood from the aching wetness between my
legs is a few layers of cloth and denim.

The friction between us builds to a frenzy, and I tear my
mouth from Trent’s to cry out, “I can’t wait any longer.”

That’s all he needs to hear. Trent’s arms tighten around me,
and he carries me swiftly across the cabin of the tour bus. Without breaking
stride, he kicks open door after door until we find ourselves in a small, quiet
chamber in the back of the huge vehicle. I peer around the space, and a thrill
runs through me as I realize that most of it is taken up by an enormous,
pristine bed. Well, pristine for now, anyway.

Trent falls to his knees on the sprawling bed, laying me
down before him.

He pulls himself on top of me and I eagerly part my legs,
wanting to feel that pulsing need against me once more. His lips find the
tender skin of my throat, kissing me deeply wherever they land. I let my head
fall back against the bed, savoring the feeling of his lips as they brush
against me.

He pulls at the loose hem of my top, drawing the garment up
over my head and tossing it across the room.

I lay before him in my cotton bra and panties, but he drinks
in the sight of me as if I was Venus herself. With a reverence I’ve never seen
from any man, he let lets his hands trail down the length of me, driving me
more and more wild with every stroke.

His hands slip around my back, unhooking my bra with one
swift, expert motion. My amble breasts spill out, and he eagerly lowers his
mouth to my hard, erect nipple. He takes the stiff little peak into his mouth
and sucks, hard.

I arch my back, moaning at the sweet sharpness of his kiss.

His hands continue to roam as he lays kiss after kiss upon
my breasts. Down across my belly his fingers skirt as I tug at the bottom of
his tee shirt. He rips the shirt off his hardened body and presses himself to
me.

Our bare torsos come together, and the heat of his skin
sends me spiraling into a state of utter need and desperate anticipation. I
want there to be no space between us at all. I want to feel all of him, right
this instant.

I bring my lips to his, telling him without words what I
need so badly.

In a heartbeat, he’s tugged his jeans and briefs down his
smooth, firm thighs, and I let my hands wander where they will. Trent takes in
a sharp breath as my hands close around the hard length between his legs. I can
scarcely hold all of him at once.

My hands work up and down his staggeringly long thickness,
and I can feel him growing harder by the second. His eyes are closed in utter
bliss, and I'm nearly on edge myself, just knowing how good I can make him
feel.

His eyes finally focus on mine once more, and he looks down
at me in wonder.

I gasp as he pins me back hard against the bed, snatching my
hands away and holding them firmly above my head. He looses a hand and wastes
no time—I cry out as I feel his fingers glance against the length of my wet
slit.

A smile spreads across his face as he traces a slow caress
along that eager place between my legs. He’s taking his time, letting us both
enjoy every minute. I stare up at him, wild-eyed with anticipation, as he slips
his fingers between my silky folds. Further inside me his thick fingers dive,
flexing against my most intimate flesh. I relish the feeling of him inside of
me, but I only want more, I want to take as much as he can give me.

“Oh my god,” I moan breathlessly, as he finds the throbbing,
tender nub there and begins to rub, hard. He knows exactly what he’s doing,
exactly how to touch me. He kneads and caresses with expert precision, and my
very vision begins to swim. It’s all I can do to dig my fingers into the
bedding and try to keep from screaming into the night.

He reaches over me to grab a condom off the bedside table,
tears the package open and swiftly wraps his member.

I hold my breath, preparing myself for him, as a low,
rattling groan rips from my throat as I feel the bulging tip of Trent against
me. We lock eyes as he lowers himself to me once more and finally,
finally
,
sinks deep inside of me.

Our sharp breaths sound out as one as Trent plunges into my
body, parting me as he goes. I pull him in as deeply as I can, marveling at how
he fills me so much more than I've ever felt before. We lean into each other
with every thrust, transporting each other beyond the tiny room, beyond the
festival, to a place that no one can ever travel but the two us of. I buck my
hips against his hard, pounding member, barely able to take the length of him,
my mouth falling open as I careen toward ecstasy.