Page 16 of Rebel

Unwilling to look meek before them, I play back even though I shouldn’t. I should draw a line, but I can’t seem to back down when it comes to them.

Taking Chase’s hand, I slide it under the dress so it’s hidden for the camera. What they don’t see is that it’s on my thigh, right at the top near my pussy. His eyes widen for a moment before they smolder, and his grip tightens as he holds me. Lifting my foot, I press it to Kolton’s head like I’m pushing him away, flashing leg, then I slide my hand up and grip Trav’s throat, tilting his head back.

I smile for the camera, looking completely in control.

We get a few more poses like that, with them touching me while I push them further, unwilling to back down, until we are all breathing heavily and glaring at each other.

“We’re finished! Well done, that was such a good shoot!” The photographer’s voice interrupts our staring contest.

A grin of victory covers my lips as I kick Kolton off my foot and release Trav. Without a backward glance, I walk off the set, knowing they are watching me.

What they don’t see is me locking the bathroom door and pressing my back to it.

My heart races as I clench my thighs in want and hate.

Fuck!

ELEVEN

Iwatch Beck go, my cock uncomfortably hard, as foreign feelings of desire tug at me to follow her and finish what we started. My hand curls into a fist to trap the heat of her skin, and it takes me longer than I want to admit to shake it off.

I see the others watching, too, before they seem to realize something and glance at me.

Panic filled me for a moment before I met Beck’s eyes, and then it seemed to fade. Sometimes, even when the guys touch me, I jerk away, but I reached for her first, expecting I wouldn’t be able to do it. When I touched her soft, bare skin, though, something relaxed in me for the first time ever.

I don’t tell her that she’s the first person I have voluntarily touched or let touch me, but I know the others sense it, and they are watching for my freak-out. Once, after a show, a fan posed with us at the meet and greet and grabbed onto me. I managed to stay for the photos but ran back to the green room and had a panic attack. They found me hyperventilating and scrubbing my skin.

From that moment on, they have never let anyone touch me without my permission.

They never asked, and I never told them—they simply adapted.

I owe them for that, but I can’t meet their eyes now and explain why Beck is different.

I don’t know, other than it felt right to touch her. With her above me, looking so beautiful and perfect, I needed to see if she was real, and when she met my eyes and I saw her want there, I felt like a real fucking man for the first time ever. I felt undamaged and needed, and for a bit, just a little bit, I wanted to be the man who can touch a beautiful woman without memories destroying him, and today, thanks to Beck Danvers, I got to be that man.

I will always owe her for that, and she doesn’t have a clue.

“Let’s look at the photos,” I say, trying to ignore the unspoken questions. It switches their focus to the photographer and distracts them, thank fuck.

The photographer turns the camera as he flicks through, showing us our options. “Fuck,” Chase mutters. “Some of them are amazing.”

“We’ve never looked so good.” Trav grins. “All thanks to Beck.”

“I wouldn’t push it that far,” Chase grumbles as he continues to scroll through until he lands on one of the first pictures we took.

It’s Chase and me with our backs to Beck, and she’s peeking around and smiling up at us. Trav is moving away, his hand still linked with hers. It’s cute as hell, and I take the camera from him, careful not to brush him with my fingers. “I like this one.”

“It doesn’t meet the brand’s criteria, but it’s nice,” the photographer agrees.

“Print that one for me,” I murmur softly.

“Uh, I think we’ll go with one of the last ones,” he says, and I meet his gaze.

“Not for the promos, for us. Print that one.” Unwilling to meet their examining eyes, I head back to the dressing room.

“Well?” Chase demands when the line is silent.

Beck sits squashed between us again as we are driven from the photoshoot. We have the rest of the day free, thank fuck. “What did you think?” Trav repeats. We know the photographer sent some examples to our management.

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