The large warehouse housing the Cherry Lips rehearsal space was in the industrial area of town. The building looked decrepit on the outside, but the inside was surprisingly well kept and homey. The building owner was an artist himself who’d seen some major success and decided to give back to the community. He’d bought out the warehouse and converted the space into a sort of artist’s commune. We passed by the pottery room and a space with a half-finished canvases splattered paint.
“The rehearsal space is out back here,” I told Jessie as I led her through the hallways, arm around her waist.
“This is pretty cool,” she said. “I could totally see hippie artsy types working here. What are a bunch of filthy, loud-mouthed rock stars doing at a place like this?” she teased.
“You want me to be filthy?” I murmured in her ear. She elbowed me in the ribs. “We rent the space by the hour. We’ve got a good deal ’cause the owner’s got a hard on for my sister.”
“Hey, fuck you!” Cerise laughed as we walked into the rehearsal space.
Jessie ducked out from underneath my arm, putting space between us. She was still unsure about public displays of affection. I didn’t quite get it — who the fuck cared if anyone knew we were fucking? — but I let her have her quirks.
“Where are the guys?” I asked.
“Took off after you didn’t show.” My sister pointedly glanced at her wrist, pretending to look at the time. “You’re late.”
“Sorry,” I said, not feeling very sorry at all. I couldn’t keep a grin from spreading across my face. I’d spent the better part of an afternoon making out with Jessie. She’d insisted we shouldn’t have sex because it would make us late. I’d conceded the point and compromised on a short make out session.
A whole lot of kisses and not a fair bit of groping later, we were late anyway.
“Should I even ask why you have that sappy look in your eyes?” Cerise said.
“I’m not sappy,” I said, insulted. “I’m indulging in my sexual prowess.”
Jessie groaned. Cerise faked throwing up.
“If the guys aren’t here, I guess practice is cancelled?” I said needlessly.
“You should still spend some time practicing,” Cerise told me. “We’ve got that big show next week.”
“And that new set list,” I agreed. “I guess it’s better this way. No other guys to take Jessie’s attention away from me.”
Jessie laughed. “You think I’m going to spend hours just watching you wail away on your guitar?”
“Isn’t that why you came with me today?” I asked.
“I came because I wanted to meet the other guys in the band, which I still have yet to do properly.”
“You’ll meet them soon,” I told her, secretly pleased. I’d been putting off introducing Jessie to the rest of the band because I knew at least half those assholes would try hitting on her, and the other half would give me hell for having fallen for her.
Fallen for her, I mused.
I really had fallen for Jessie. I hadn’t thought it was possible. I’d never gotten serious about a girl before. Never wanted to. I’d been fine with my parade of hot chicks lining up to bang an up-and-coming rock star god. But now…
I snuck a glance at Jessie as she chatted with Cerise. Fuck, but she was sexy. The way her long hair tumbled down her back in waves, the curve of her hips leading down into that luscious ass…
That cute as hell smile on her lips as she laughed…
The way her bright eyes softened whenever she caught me staring at her…
I glanced away, heading over to my guitar stand, pretending to fiddle with the strap.
Shit, I had it bad, didn’t I? I’d fallen for this girl so hard, it was a wonder I hadn’t hit my head on the way down.
I didn’t fucking care. This girl was mine, and I was a goddamn lucky bastard that she called me hers.
“I’m heading off now,” my sister called out. “Don’t trash the place like last time.”
“I’ll keep him in line,” Jessie told her.
The moment the door closed behind Cerise, I took Jessie in my arms. Brushing a strand of hair away from her face, I looked deeply into her eyes.
“Wanna fuck?” I said bluntly.
She barked out a laugh and pushed me away with a large grin. “You’re such a romantic, Gael. Really. You’re just sweeping me off my feet right now.”
“I should have phrased that better,” I said. “Now that we don’t have to worry about being late, I have the sudden need to bury my cock inside you and watch your face as you come while riding me.”
A faint flush graced her cheeks as her thighs pressed together. My dirty words always got her going, no matter what. It was my secret weapon. I tried to use it sparingly, but after an entire afternoon of kissing and foreplay I needed to make this girl come.
“You know this is a public space?” she said, voice wavering.
“The door locks,” I replied. “Besides, since when has that ever stopped us?” I went to her and trailed a finger along her collarbone. “Wouldn’t it be hot, knowing we had sex on the same sofa I use when I’m writing songs? Then every time you listen to my music, you’ll think of me fucking you, over and over.”
That faint flush turned bright red. Her lips parted as she ran her tongue over them, wetting them. Her eyes met mine, glinting with a familiar heat.
“Let’s head over to that sofa,” she said softly. “But I don’t want you to fuck me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“No.” She took a deep breath, as if gathering herself. “I want—” she lowered her eyes, squirming.
I dipped my head to meet her gaze. “Tell me what you want, sweetness. You know I’ll give you anything.”
“I want to come on your face,” she said.
My heart thumped as the same time as my cock twitched. Jessie rarely spoke her desires out loud, preferring me to be the one doing the dirty talking. Fuck, hearing those words from my girl was a turn on.
I leaned forward until my mouth just barely brushed hers.
“You want my mouth on your pussy?” I murmured into her lips. “You want me to fuck you with my tongue?”
Letting out a satisfied sigh, she nodded.
With a swift motion, I gathered her into my arms and tossed her over my shoulder. She yelped.
“How’s that for sweeping you off your feet?” I teased.
“I suppose that’s one way of doing it,” she said breathlessly.
I laid her down on the sofa and crawled between her legs. She’d worn a skirt today. Excellent. Easy access. I peeled her panties down her legs and flung them to the floor, not caring where they landed. She spread her legs, that flush on her cheeks returning as she bared herself.
“Fuck,” I breathed. “You’re already so wet.” I dragged one finger between the slick valley of her thighs. She shivered. “I fucking love how wet your pussy gets for me.” I dipped between her lower lips, probing at her entrance. I slowly but firmly pressed forward, filling her with that one finger, then with two. She moaned. As I pumped in and out, she continued to gasp and squirm. Her thighs trembled, her heels digging into my back.
“G—Gael,” she choked out. “I need—”
“What, sweetness? What do you need?”
I darted forward and sucked her clit into my mouth. She shrieked, grasping at my hair with both hands. She clung to me, pulling me toward her, bucking her hips, grinding against me. I loved it when she lost control like this. Loved it when she let go of all her doubts and fears and just let me give her pleasure.
I used my lips and tongue and teeth to play with her clit, as I teased her inner walls with my fingers. Soon, her heavy breathing became even more labored, with short gasps. Her fingers tightened in my hair as her muscles locked. She let out a choked cry, sharp and high-pitched, then began to moan, over and over, as her entire body shuddered and quaked.
I worked her through her orgasm, not stopping until she began to tug frantically on my hair.
“Too much, too much,” she gasped out. “Fuck, that was…”
I got up on my knees, looming over her.
“Amazing?” I filled in for her. “Fan-fucking-tastic? The best orgasm you’ve ever had in your life?”
“I don’t know,” she teased breathlessly. “You’ve given me quite a few mind-blowing orgasms.”
“Was it top ten, at least?”
She pulled me down and planted her lips on mine. “Definitely top ten.”
I explored her mouth as thoroughly as I’d explored her pussy. Kissing Jessie was almost as good as sex. Those full lips, those sexy sighs, the way she clung to me, as if the world was falling out from beneath her feet… it made me feel like the sex god I always joked about being.
But that was all wrong. I wasn’t a god. Jessie was. She was a goddess, a divine being, a heavenly angel, and I was the one man lucky enough to be allowed to worship at her feet.
I’d fallen for Jessie, fallen for her so goddamn hard my body should have been bruised and bloody.
And that was how it felt sometimes. She’d pushed me away and shut me down and thrown me out on my ass too many times to count. And I deserved it. I’d been a fucking idiot, a thoughtless asshole.
But somehow she forgave me. This angel, this goddess, forgave all my sins and let me back into her life.
I swore to myself I would never fuck it up, ever again.
Because I’d fallen for Jessie, and every bruise and wound I’d sustained on the way down had been worth it.
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