Edging Obsession

2

O ur manager Lee calls a meeting this morning to inform us we’ll have a woman traveling with us for the next two weeks. She’s going to write an article on the band’s daily life. He asks us to make ourselves available to her, so she can interview us along the way. This is the last thing I want to hear. My personal life is private. Lee and the band can beg all they want for me to open my life to the public, but it will never happen. I’d rather peel my skin from bone. The Coven has created a different persona for me, and I intend to keep things separate. I’m here to play music, not talk about my private life. She’ll have to fill the article with Callan, Ace, and Thomas’ fucked up lives. Callan hasn’t heard of the word discretion. His words and actions are an open book, so she should have enough juice for her article.

I’m glancing out the window when Callan smacks my leg. “Dude, Lee says she’s hot as fuck. Like gloryhole hot!”

I shove him and he falls to the ground, calling me a dick. My head shakes as I think, Fuck no! A gloryhole woman is nothing more than a prostitute used by inadequate and insecure men. More like boys who fail in the dick department in size and/or performance. Not a problem for me in either. I’m too fucking old to be squandering my time on groupies and whores. The rockstar life isn’t one I’ve adapted to. Drums are what brought me here, and I had hoped to find a wife by now. A submissive one who is willing to settle into the lifestyle.

We’re sitting on the bus, waiting for this woman to arrive before hitting the road. Today is the first day of a month-long sold-out tour around the East Coast, and then we fly to the West Coast, Midwest, Southern states, and Europe. Once this article woman arrives, we’ll head to Boston for a concert at Fenway Park. I’m not a baseball fan but I do like open arenas. A deafening crowd in an open arena proves you’re getting the job done.

Ace and Thomas are playing chords on their guitars, and Callan is watching porn on his phone. I head to the back of the bus for some space. This is a big bus, but there’s still not enough room for me. My private phone is hidden in a small compartment of my bunk. I snatch it and enter the lounge area with a TV, which is on and muted. In the leather chair, I scroll through my messages and come across several from my brother. Problems are brewing back home. He hopes I’ll come back soon. Even though he follows my career, he can’t comprehend the demands and schedule. The way he sees it, I’m a traveling drummer who can come and go when he pleases. I shoot off a few texts to him before Lee asks me to join them.

Through the hall, I approach the doorway, and a smell of spring hits my nostrils. Like the smells of the fields my brother and I played in behind our house, reminding me of home, spiking my endorphins. I grip the top of the doorframe, locking eyes on the woman who is joining us. She captures my attention like a conch shell captures the sound of the ocean. The woman knocks all sense out of me. My steps falter as I enter the area, and we’re both staring at one another. I’m speechless and paralyzed. She’s what I’d call a limited edition. Women don’t look like her where I come from, and those who throw themselves at me are yesterday’s uneaten meals. Untouched and forgotten. I only sample when I get blue balls, and it’s a one-time deal. But I’d definitely make an exception for this woman.

Her gaze travels the length of my body. Instant connection. The whoosh of blood mutes everything before surging to my dick. Every nerve prickles, muscles swell, and my hand shoots out, catching the side wall to avoid falling. She’s a phenomenon, lighting my skin on fire, and enclosing around my heart. One look from her and I crumble into a million little pieces, which I’m not sure I want to put back together.

My body continues moving until I’m standing in front of her. I’m having a similar effect on her, because her throat dips when she swallows while wetting her lips. She sucks in a breath, holds it, and her skin takes on a slight gleam. Remarkable. The sundress offers me a show of her legs, bringing her close to my height. Long brown hair flows a little past her shoulders with soft ringlets. Hazel eyes the color of a forest bed are highlighted by a circular sunburst of yellow. Our eyes roam each other’s faces.

I’ve forgotten about anyone else in the room until Lee breaks our eye contact when he asks, “Do you two know each other?”

We shake our heads. The others watch as I ease into a nearby seat, and she remains standing a few feet away.

Lee clears his throat. “This is Jules Hunter. The woman writing the article.” Lee takes her bag and places it on the opposite couch. “Jules, this is—” He points to each of us. “Singer, Callan, lead guitarist, Ace, bass guitar, Thomas, and—” He hesitates when he notices Jules and I staring at each other again. “Drummer, Miles.” He snaps his fingers, which breaks our connection. “Jules will be with us for two weeks, so we’ll find a place for her to sleep.” Lee’s gaze hits each one of us as he adds, “Be on your best behavior.”

He heads to the front of the bus to talk to the driver about taking off. Callan is the first to touch her, flaying my insides.

He takes her hand, kisses it, and says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His eyes wander over her face. “You are exquisite.”

I storm over, take her hand, and lead her to the back area. The guys yell at our retreating backs for us to return. In the other lounge, we stand apart allowing a little distance between us. Our eyes flit over each other’s faces, breaths fighting to become normal. How is it you can meet someone for the first time, yet it feels like you’ve always known them? They speak to your soul, lodging in the center of your chest.

In the other room, the band members are cursing me, but they’ll settle down soon.

I tuck some strands of hair behind her ear, and offer a lopsided grin when I say, “Miles.”

“Jules,” and she returns the smile.

Damn, her smoky voice adds to her allure.

Reconnecting my brain, I direct her to the couch and take a seat next to her. Her beauty is beyond comprehension. Perfection.

She shifts to face me and says, “I don’t know if you felt it, but as soon as I saw you…I…I can’t even explain it.” I offer a simple nod. “Not the talkative type, huh?” My head shakes. “It’s okay. I have enough talk in me for a roomful of people.” A devilish grin captures my face. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you and the others.” I don’t want her to get to know the others.

My hand brushes the hair from her shoulders, fingers resting in the curve of her neck, and my thumb caresses her cheek. Jules’ face colors, and she glances away. With my other hand, I capture her chin and return her attention to me. I brush my finger across her lower lip. Everything about her is smooth. Jules’ eyes rummage over my appearance, pausing on my lips, and rise to my eyes. She places her hand on mine and brings it to her lap.

She runs her fingers along each of my thick digits, humming, and then says, “No picture has done you justice. You’re more handsome in person.” Still gazing at her, I bring her hand to my lips, kissing the tips of each finger. “And confident.” Jules lets out a nervous laugh. She tugs her hand back and I let it go. “Would you mind if I ask you some questions?” I shake my head. “Great! I’ll get my bag and be right back.” I grab her arm before she stands and direct her to stay.

I enter the group area and Callan says, “Hey dick, you stole my moment.”

“You didn’t have a moment.”

The guys lean closer and Ace asks, “Do you know her?” I tell him no. “It sure as hell seems like it. Are you planning on fucking her—”

I grab his shirt and pull him close. “No one’s fucking her.”

He hits my hand away. “Who made you boss? If I or anyone else wants to—”

Again, I grab him by the shirt and this time push him against the wall. Through gritted teeth, I say, “Stay away from her.” He struggles, but I easily overpower him. “Do you understand?” He nods and I turn to the others. “No one touches her. You have enough pussy to keep you busy.”

I release Ace.

“You’re an asshole, Miles.”

Retrieving Jules’ bag, I brush against Ace’s shoulder and say, “Yeah, I know.”

Back on the couch with Jules, she takes out her paper, clicks the pen, and her tongue clucks against the roof of her mouth. Her finger twists around one of her curls, and she offers a shy smile.

“So, Miles, where are you from?”

My dick twitches when she speaks. Her voice is like she had a long session of deep throating, low and husky. My arm rests on top of the couch, close enough that I’d swallow her if I leaned over. She doesn’t move, which I assume makes her okay with our proximity. I take a deep inhale.

Jules taps her pen on the pad of paper. “Miles?” Our eyes connect. “Where are you from?”

“Everywhere.”

She tightens her lips together. “Okay, can you expand on that?”

“No.”

Taking in a deep breath, she continues, “You’re from everywhere. Good to know.” With a smile, I trace the outer shell of her ear, which causes her to shiver. “Are you married?”

A single brow raises when I respond, “You know I’m not.”

“Children?”

She’s digging. Do I have a bastard child out there? I sure as hell hope not. In my younger years, my rebellious side was too carefree and careless. It’s been a long time since I wet my dick in some unknown pussy, and I’m always sheathed. My gaze lingers on Jules’ eyes. I’m willing to end my drought with her.

She’s waiting, so I oblige. “Are you offering?”

Jules sucks in a breath, eyes astonished by my comment. “No! I just…I need to get some information on all the band members. This article is important.”

“How important?”

“ Keeping my job important.” Now I’m curious. Her hair covers her face when she looks down, so my fingers bring her chin up for her to focus on me. “I messed up a bit at work. My boss was kind enough to offer me this opportunity in exchange for keeping my job.”

“Then ask me about the band.”

Her exhausted sigh indicates she’s willing to drop the personal line of questioning. “What do you like most about being a drummer?”

“The women.” I wink. “The electricity created by the crowd. There’s nothing comparable.”

Jules’ smile is like a favorite song, one you want to play all the time until memorized.

“Good. That’s great. Thanks.” She writes my response down, bringing the tip of the pen to her lips. Not a good idea when my mind is drifting into sinful territory.

She asks, “Which song is your favorite?”

Jules bites the pen and I fixate on her lips. Thoughts about kissing them. Visions of them wrapped around my cock. I remove the pen from her mouth.

“ Wicked Joys .” I lick my lips, eyes bouncing from her lips to her eyes.

“Yes! It’s one of my favorites. My all-time favorite is Butterfly Winds . It has a delirious rhythm.”

“Kind of like you.”

She blushes again. “Miles, you’re…” Jules’ eyes rest on mine. “…quite forward. It’s refreshing to be around someone who speaks their mind, except I’m not sure…” Her lips compress and she turns.

My hand cradles her jaw to turn her face back to mine. “You’re not sure about what?”

Her eyebrows sink lower. “I’m not sure you should say those things to me. The connection between us is undeniable. And you’re…gorgeous. But I can’t risk my job.”

“We’re just talking.”

The couch gives as her body relaxes and she shakes her head. “We’re not just talking. Desire is spinning a web around us, and the things you say are sticking. I appreciate the compliments. I—”

“You want to kiss me.”

The cutest giggle escapes her. “Uh, who wouldn’t?”

“Then do it.”

Her gaze drifts to my mouth and she shifts closer. To put her out of her misery, I press my lips against hers. It’s faint and unobtrusive. I put space between us and recognize the same want in her eyes. Her tongue sweeps over the plumpness of her lower lip. Eyes rove over my face until they settle on mine. Half-lidded, she moves close enough to where we’re breathing for each other. My mouth takes hers again. Opening to the sweet smell of her strawberry breath, my tongue outlines her lips, absorbing her sensuality. Somehow, I’ve pushed her down on the couch and I’m on top between her legs. I break the kiss, watching her reaction as I roll my pelvis into her, amplifying our arousal. I smell hers, and it only compels my pelvis to torture her clit. Hands, mouths, run the gamut of our faces. When I stop for air, she fists my shirt, sucking in a breath.

My forehead rests against hers, and in a husky tone, I ask, “What are you thinking, Jules?”

“How much I shouldn’t want this.”

I never thought she might be in a relationship. “Why shouldn’t you? Are you involved with someone?” She shakes her head and lets out a breathy no . “I don’t see the problem.”

Behind me, someone clears their throat, and I look to see Lee by the door, hands on hips, shaking his head. “Miles? Is this being on your best behavior?” I smirk as Jules turns the spectrum of red. “Get off her. I need to talk to Jules.”

I make it a point to slide down her body until I’m seated. He scowls at me as he helps Jules from the couch. Her face flaunts a red hue. She gives me a glance over her shoulder mouthing, I’ll see you later .

They walk out of the room with Lee turning back to whisper, “ Leave her alone.”

Not gonna happen. Jules makes my body hypersensitive after being dormant for too long. I get up to shut the door, free my dick from my jeans, and fuck my hand while thinking of her sweet mouth, her springtime scent, and her captivating eyes.