Counterpoint (Hystoria #3)

11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Lola can’t be fixed until the next day. Luckily, the locals are better at driving under these conditions and preparing their cars for them than we are, so the mechanics can get to work on Lola immediately. I mean, I’m absolutely enjoying my stay at the hotel, thanks to Si, but I’d still like to get home at some point.

Si and I can’t take our eyes, hands, mouths, and tongues off each other. Aside from breaks to get some food or sign the stupid documents at the reception, we are tangled up in bed, making the most of our stay. I stopped counting my orgasms after number seven, and while he might not be quite around the same ballpark, he definitely enjoyed himself as well. I made sure of that. Fair to say, we had a great time .

Unfortunately, my nightmares returned. I hoped that Si’s presence was what kept them at bay, but last night, they came back with a vengeance. I woke up three times in a cold sweat, with each nightmare being more horrific than the one before. Every dream began with me hiding from Tom and ended with him finding me with increasingly scarier weapons in his hand. I don’t remember all the details of those dreams, but I think at one point it was a chainsaw. Which, in hindsight, is ridiculous, but all I felt in my dream and once I woke up was pure horror and fear.

I thought about waking Si for comfort. But he looked so peaceful asleep, and I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Even today, he looks so much healthier than at the beginning of our trip or before we started fucking.

Color has returned to his cheeks, and his face looks less hollow. Even his hair looks a brighter shade of copper, and his eyes seem to glow with life instead of exhaustion. There is just no way I could interfere with that because of some dumb nightmares.

And it would only take so long until Si asks questions if I tell him about them. And I don’t want to talk about Tom and the way he still plagues my nightmares. If I wanted to, I wouldn’t have gotten out of my way to check my makeup every few hours. I just want to ignore what happened and hope the nightmares go away by themselves, which obviously isn’t going to happen. I’ll continue to try to ignore them, though, and search for a therapist as soon as I’m home. Not that there are many to choose from in Windmeadow. I hope they don’t have several months-long waiting lists.

Today, we’re finally continuing our road trip. The atmosphere in the car has basically done a one-eighty. We’re laughing together, and conversation flows easily as we’re catching up like old friends. Our time at the hotel was spent doing a lot of stuff, but talking wasn’t a big part of those activities.

“So, what did you study in the end? I only heard from Jake that you stepped away from medicine.” I look at him in the driver’s seat, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Did he keep tabs on me?

“Yes, turns out medicine isn’t for me,” I say quietly and grimace. That course was a soul-sucking monster that I couldn’t tame. That’s not to say I didn’t like it, but it sucked the life right out of me. “I needed to take a break after two semesters and realised it was not where I see my future. In the end, I switched majors and studied digital art.”

“Cool, so you, like, draw on a tablet instead of your sketchbooks, or what does that mean?” I roll my eyes and chuckle. Just because the course was called ‘digital arts’ doesn’t mean that’s all we learned. Of course, we learned to draw on paper and canvas as well. As for me, I love my trusty sketchbook and pencil to doodle.

“Sometimes,” I admit and catch a smile creeping on my face. I haven’t missed it too much over the past few days, my thoughts were definitely otherwise occupied, but now that we’re talking about it, my fingers are itching to do just that. “I can do both. But my job was mainly about creating logos and other graphics digitally, so yeah, that would be part of the ‘drawing on tablet’ assumption,” I say with a chuckle. “I also create 3D figures of products for advertisements and stuff like that.”

“Is that your job at that tech firm? Jake mentioned something along those lines,” he wonders, shooting me a quick, curious glance before refocusing on the road .

I nod. “Yes, it was. Plus creating brochures and other boring corporate stuff like that.”

“Was?” His head whips around to me. “You’re not working there anymore?”

“Eyes on the road, Si,” I scold him and grab him by his chin to push it in the right direction. And yes, I’ve reverted to using his nickname. I figured if I’d let him fuck me into oblivion, that’s an appropriate thing to do. “No. I don’t work there anymore,” I confess and shrug. “As of pretty recently.”

“So you’re actually moving back home?” he asks, eyeing the boxes on my backseat in the rearview mirror.

“Yes,” I admit with a nod. “I’ve realised that the city isn’t for me. It’s loud and hectic, and I don’t know many people there anyway. So Grandma is letting me have my old room for a bit until I find my own place.”

He nods in understanding before shifting his focus back to the road.

“How about you?” I ask him curiously. “Now that you have free time, are you still writing songs? Or doing other exciting stuff?”

“To be honest with you, I haven’t done much of anything besides wasting my life away.” He runs his hand through his hair, letting out a curse when a car merges in front of us without blinking. “Cole is fine with catching a breath and doting on his girlfriend and dog, Jake is doing his solo stuff and doting on his girlfriends and dogs, plural, and I have no fucking clue about what I’m going to do. But I’m not getting a dog,” he tries to joke, but the sigh that leaves him runs bone-deep. I pat his shoulder reassuringly. Poor Si .

“Well, what do you want to do?” I ask him, wondering if he wants to talk about the confession he made to me a few days ago in bed. Isn’t this break perfect to get a start on the family planning? Why isn’t he jumping on the opportunity to find someone to spend his life with? God knows they don’t have much time for that when the band gets together again.

“Honestly? All I want is for Pax to get his shit together so we can tour as Hystoria again. That way, I don’t have to come up with something to do or disappoint our fans any further.” He rubs his temple, and a weariness has seeped into his voice. “But even if he does, it’s not going to be as easy as it sounds, I guess. He really fucked up.”

“Understandable, I mean, Pax really betrayed your trust.” I pat his shoulder again, leaving my hand there. “Have you ever thought about having a solo career?”

“No, not at all,” he admits. “I mean, of course, I’ve thought about it, but it’s not for me. I’m either standing on stage with the guys or not at all. And before you ask, no, I don’t hold a grudge against your brother for doing it. It’s just not for me.”

I hum in understanding.

“Have you thought about acting? Don’t band members do cameos in shows all the time?”

“Harp, I can’t even tell a white lie with a straight face. What makes you think I’d like to get into acting?” He rolls his eyes, and I can’t help but giggle.

“True, you were always horrible at lies,” I say through laughter.

I remember one time he and Jake went out to buy a birthday present for me. When I asked them what they did that day, Si answered bull riding. Never mind that neither real nor mechanical bulls were located anywhere close enough to go there for one afternoon. Plus, the fact he fidgeted with his hands and ran away right after answering definitely gave away that he lied.

“See? So no, acting really wouldn’t be for me,” he reiterates. The thought seems to get a chuckle out of him, though.

“Hmm. Have you ever thought about working with newcomers?” I tap my finger against my lip. As bad as he is at lying, he’s great at giving advice and teaching. I can see him as a coach for newcomers, showing them the ropes of the business and maybe helping them create their brands.

“What do you mean?” He sounds curious, so I guess he hasn’t thought about it.

“Have you been in contact with Eve?” She’s a manager with great connections in the industry, after all. “Maybe offer to take one of Scaena’s new bands under your wing. Being thrown into the music industry must be scary; maybe you can help them find their footing.” I shrug. “Just an idea.”

“Just an idea,” he repeats, his voice distant as though he’s deep in thought. “I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I reply, a pleased smile on my lips as I play his words over in my head. It must be hard to be the only one without a plan, watching as your band members are living their best lives while you’re hanging in limbo. I can’t say I envy him.

I direct my gaze away from him and out the window. Snow-covered scenery flies past us, but around noon, we’re slowed down by traffic again .

“I bet someone slid on ice,” I say and shift in my seat. My butt is starting to hurt from sitting still for so long, but I haven’t seen any signs for service stations close by.

“You’re only saying that because you don’t want to feel bad about having done so yourself,” Si teases me, and I stick out my tongue at him.

“Wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t shouted at me,” I insist, narrowing my eyes at him. Because it’s the truth, without him screaming, I might have only braked at a spot with less ice, and everything would have been fine.

“Nope, it would have happened regardless,” he says with a twinkle in his eye that tells me he’s full of shit. But you know what? So am I.

I check our surroundings. In front of us is one of those giant-ass pickup trucks. To our right, left, and behind us, we are boxed in by trucks and vans, moving alongside us at a snail’s pace. Perfect for what I have in mind.

“Can you scoot your seat back a bit?” I ask, mischief dancing in my eyes. Si raises an eyebrow, clearly curious about my request, but he does as I ask and rolls his seat back a few centimetres. “A bit more,” I demand, my grin growing wider. “Perfect.”

With a swift move, I reach for his belt and pop it open, swiftly pulling down his zipper. He’s caught off guard, and his voice fills with disbelief. “What are you doing, Harper?” he gasps, his voice a mix of surprise and curiosity. Ignoring his question, I yank down his pants, revealing his cock that’s just begging for some attention.

“I’ve wanted to blow you ever since I tasted you,” I admit, licking my lips in anticipation as I nudge his pants a bit further down. For some reason, I never got to it at the hotel, but this seems like a golden opportunity.

“But here? ” he asks, fear and curiosity tainting his voice.

“Yes, right here.” I look into his eyes, searching for a clue that he’s really not up for it. I’m not going to force him. But what I find is intrigue and arousal—got him.

My hand finds his cock, stroking it lazily. It doesn’t take long until he’s hard in my hand. I peek through the windows to check if anyone is able to see into the car, but thanks to my tinted windows, boxes stacked in my backseat and trunk, and the way too-tall cars around us, I think we’re okay.

My eyes wander back to the task, or cock, at hand. I can’t resist the temptation any longer. I lean down, blowing a breath of hot air over his glistening head. He groans, his hands clutching the steering wheel tighter. The air sizzles with electric tension as I curiously flick my tongue against his glistening head before I let my tongue trail a path along the length of his shaft, blowing a hot breath against the glistening saliva it leaves. A groan escapes me when his taste hits my tongue.

His body trembles under my touch. Each breath against my saliva on his cock sends a shiver through him and elicits small sounds of pleasure. It’s like music to my ears, a sweet melody that I find myself growing addicted to, pushing me to work him even harder, desperate to hear more of them. God, I want to record them and play them over and over again as I pleasure myself.

“Harrrrp,” he groans, his voice dripping with desire. One of his hands instinctively reaches for my hair, but I quickly lift my head away from his cock and shake it .

“Both hands on the wheel,” I rasp, my voice husky with a blend of longing and command. “If you can’t multitask, I’ll have to abort the mission.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, a hint of both frustration and admiration in his voice. But he obeys, placing both hands back on the steering wheel, giving in to my command. A surge of power washes over me, and I can’t help but grin. Finally, I am the one in charge.

I lean back down and envelop his throbbing head with my mouth, my tongue dancing and swirling around him as my hand wraps around his shaft, stroking him with a gentle but firm grip that makes his breath hitch. The taste and smell of him fill my senses, driving me wild. I can feel myself getting wet from the sounds he makes and his taste alone, but for once, this isn’t about me.

“Harper,” he pleads, and the sound is like music to my ears. Maybe one day, I will get him to beg, get to edge him for hours until I finally let him come. That sounds like fun.

But for now, I’m focused on the present. My lips close around his head, and finally, I give him what he wants. The wet, obscene sound of me sucking on his cock mixes with the purr of the engine and the noise of sirens somewhere in the distance.

I let my tongue dance around his head before I relax my throat and take him deeper and deeper, making a fist with my left hand. I’ve read once that making a fist will suppress your gag reflex, and even though it might be a placebo, it works for me and helped me impress my bed partners more than once.

“Holy shit, Harper,” he praises me with a hoarse voice. “Do it. Take me deeper. ”

I roll my eyes. He’s really bad at giving up control. Good thing for him, I was planning on doing that anyway.

His cock slides down my throat, and my nose nestles into his pubic hair. I take a moment to relish in the feeling, savoring the way he tastes against my tongue, a delicious combination of salt and sweetness that drives me wild. Enjoying the way my lips spread around him and the way he fills me up, making me choke just a little.

And then, slowly and deliberately, I start to pull back again. Bit by bit, I ease his throbbing length out of my throat, my lips clinging tightly to his shaft as I release him.

His pulsing cock remains in my mouth, wet and warm, as I catch my breath and gaze up at him. His fiery gaze meets mine, and now it’s game on.

“You love having my cock in your mouth, making you choke and gag for me, don’t you?” he growls, his words laced with a mix of command and satisfaction. “You love having me at your mercy, don’t you? Devour me, show me how much you crave me.” God, yes, I do. “Enjoy it because next time, you’ll be the one at my mercy. And you’re going to beg,” he promises, and I shift in my seat. I can’t wait.

But for now, I savor the sensation of his hardness filling my mouth. My tongue swirls and flicks against him, adding an extra layer of pleasure.

He lets out a throaty groan, his tone a mixture of bliss and domination, “That’s it, Harper. Show me how much you crave my cock.”

I’m lost in the moment, completely focused on him, as I suck on him with an insatiable hunger, my lips tightly wrapped around his pulsing shaft. The taste of him, the way he twitches in response to my every move, drives me wild with the desire to please him .

I lose myself in the rhythm, my own arousal mirroring the fervor with which I work him. The taste of him, the feeling of his hardness against my tongue, and the way he responds to my every touch send shivers down my spine.

I vary my techniques, alternating between gentle suction and swirling motions, teasing him to the edge of bliss before I slow down again or release his cock. His hips buck in response, aching for more, but as soon as he takes one of his hands off the steering wheel, I stop; I am in charge here. He’s going to have his turn later, there’s no doubt in my mind about that, but for now, I’m the one in control.

His hips involuntarily thrust, aching for more, but I just withdraw and shoot him a devious grin. I dictate the pace, relishing in the power I have over his pleasure. I want to draw it out, to savor every moment of this delicious torment.

His moans grow louder, his breathing heavy and desperate as I toy with him. I pay careful attention to his responses, learning just how far to prod him without pushing him over that edge.

“Come on, Harper. Take my fucking cum. I know you want it,” he pleads weakly, his voice filled with frustration and desperate desire. Just when he thinks he can’t take it any longer, when he’s on the brink of exploding, I slow down, denying him that ultimate satisfaction. I can see the frustration in his eyes, the way he’s simultaneously begging and cursing me, and it only fuels my own desire to prolong this exquisite torture. “Goddamnit, Harper,” he curses desperately.

With a wicked smile, I continue my deliberate pace, pushing him right to the edge again before easing back. It’s a tantalizing game, a dance of pleasure and denial that keeps us both on the edge .

“F-fuck, Harper,” he gasps, his voice strained with need. “For the love of God. Don’t stop... please!”

His plea pushes me to the edge, and I decide it’s time to give him what he’s been begging for. He lets out a series of deep groans as his orgasm takes over, his knuckles on the wheel turning white as he tightens his grip around it, his pleasure washing over him in waves. I continue to suck and stroke him, milking every last drop from him, my mouth and hand working in sync to extract every ounce of his cum.

His body trembles in the aftermath, his breathing heavy and erratic. I maintain my grip on him, gently coaxing out the remaining tremors of his climax, prolonging his pleasure for as long as I can.

As he gradually comes down from the high of his release, his eyes meet mine, a blend of satisfaction and appreciation shining in his gaze. I release his spent cock from my mouth, watching as it glistens with the evidence of my efforts.

“Holy shit, Harper,” he gasps, still catching his breath. “You’re really fucking good at this.”

A self-satisfied smirk spreads across my face as I meet his gaze. “I might have been told once or twice,” I reply, winking playfully. I sit back up, catching a glimpse of his release smudged in the corner of my mouth as I lower the mirror.

Before I can wipe it away, his hand grabs my neck, pulling me towards him forcefully. God, I hope the car isn’t moving anymore because he’s very much not paying attention to the road. His lips crash against mine in a fierce, hungry kiss, and he groans when he tastes himself on my lips, making me smile into the kiss.

“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” he mutters, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and excitement.

“Yeah, I know.” I wink at him playfully and chuckle.