Page 60 of Give Me What I Want

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Why the fuck had I decided to do that? What was I thinking? The shit they had been doing, the sex, the whatever else, Bea and Ro pretending that they were dating, it was bad. I knew it was bad. So why the hell had I stepped up onto our bus and fucked her along with the rest of them?

Leaning against the side of the bus, sun beating down on my face, I rolled the silver balls around in my palm, those stupid silver balls that had been in her pussy all of yesterday evening. I had washed them, scrubbed them clean as I had stood in the shower scrubbing myself after they had all fallen asleep, hating the amount of regret that I felt.

I had sat on the sofa all morning, ignoring everyone until she came wandering in. That tired smile, fresh face, rosy cheeks, sexy as fuck tattoos. I wondered if what I had done was really so bad. Maybe I just needed to change my outlook.

Over the past couple of months, my bandmates had all seemed pretty damn happy, even with all of the fighting, so maybe they were on to something. And it didn’t look like there was any exclusivity going on. Sure, none of the guys had fucked anyone else, but that was pretty standard for them.

I, however, loved sex. Loved the attention. The thrill of it all. Garth might have hated having to chase down my girls with NDAs and shit, but after years, I was sure he was used to it. It was just part of his standard, daily routine now. And, in my defence, it happened far less when we weren’t on tour. The others, especially Bea, had him dealing with constant drama. One time she had trashed a venue after hours because the owner wouldn’t take no for an answer. I kinda understood why she had lost her shit, but still, Garth had worked damn hard to make the whole thing disappear, and she didn’t even say thank you, she went mental until the place got shut down, causing even more drama, that luckily for her, he also managed to bury. At leastmyshit was always simple to deal with, even when he had to deal with my drunken messes too, although I had gotten into the habit of taking those messes into my own hands now, bypassing him altogether. I was sure that he knew about it all, but one less job for him to do made him more than happy to turn a blind eye.

He turned a blind eye a lot actually, now that I thought about it, but only with us guys. He came down so hard on Bea, but I reckoned that if one of us, especially Ronan—my god, he was obsessed with Ro—killed a guy, he’d shrug and say it was fine.

It made me wonder why he had such a vendetta against our frontwoman. She was talented and hot, a bit of a mess and a royal pain in the ass, but so were the rest of us in our own ways. Maybe it was that schoolyard crap, the whole pulling the girl’s hair because you like her thing. Perhaps our manager wanted a piece of her too. I wondered if she’d ever let him. Nothing like keeping it in the family, that was what she was doing with all of them, wasn’t it, and Garth was like that irritating uncle you just accepted was there, and I supposed that he wasn’t half bad to look at. Also, I had heard him fucking her friend, Sab, a couple of times, and as a man who had heard enough women come, I was certain that she hadn’t faked it. So he had that going for him too.

Would she go there too? Was there a line that my bandmate wouldn’t cross?

Stamping out my cigarette I turned back to the bus, not wanting to think about her lines anymore, and pulled open the door. I climbed the three small steps and came face to face with Bea at the top.

“Good morning,” she yawned, still not fully awake even though I had been outside for at least fifteen minutes. Chaining as many cigarettes as I had left in the pack in my pocket. It was half twelve in the afternoon, hardly morning by my books, but for Bea, this was fairly normal. One day she’d rise at seven, another it would be two, her body clock was a mess.

I raked my gaze down her, standing barefoot, wearing a button-down shirt that she had stolen from one of us, probably Mav from the size of it, white and misbuttoned. Her nipples were clearly visible through the thin fabric, and when she turned, stretching as she made her way to the kitchen for a cup of tea, I found her ass bare and covered in red stripes, marks from Cole from the night before.

Following her, I grabbed a mug and started up the coffee machine, turning my nose up at her as she offered to make my coffee for me instead. Bea had some talents, but coffee making was not one. She made a fine brew, but she was no barista.

“You didn’t come back to bed last night, did you?” she asked, leaning her hip against the counter.

Shaking my head, I focused on frothing milk, glad that the noise of the old machine had given me a moment to think about my reply. “It was too crowded in there.”

She narrowed her eyes at me, quirking a brow. “Jordan, I’ve walked in on you asleep in a tiny hotel room after a goddamn orgy, but you’re telling me that our huge bed was too crowded?”

I bit my lip, almost forgetting that night a few years back when, along with a couple of dudes from another band, I had taken an entire hen-do back to the hotel room we had booked for a long weekend. We had shown those girls the time of their lives, even the bride-to-be. Bea had apparently walked in and witnessed half of us sleeping, the other half still enjoying themselves, and had stormed out. The rest of the band had to book another room in the middle of the night because they were too tired to start kicking anyone out. I’d had a great time.

“Mav takes up too much space,” I said, thinking fast and throwing the blame towards our biggest band member. The dude was pure freaking muscle and was a giant.

“But you don’t,” she countered, flicking her eyes up and down my body.

Shrugging, I poured my coffee. “I’m sorry, maybe next time,” I offered, not wanting this conversation to drag on. I didn’t really understand why she was so bothered by it. Not once in the last seven years had I slept in the same bed as her. Why start now? Plus, I was kinda having a crisis, questioning my judgement, last night when I had snuck out.

The moment it had been over last night, I realised exactly what I had done, and instant regret had stabbed me square in the gut. It had twisted and turned in there all night, and I still wasn’t really sure how I felt about what I had caved to.

It was wrong.

I had been certain of it for so long. But then last night I had seen the attention they had all received from our fans. Attention that was only made possible because they were on this new level with each other now.

Bea and Ro might have been the ones who were ‘dating’, but Mav and Cole were reaping the benefits too because she was treating them differently. They were even more electric on stage now, and I realised that I was on the outside.

I didn’t like being there.

I wanted in.

So I took my shot. I turned down the cute girl backstage, leaving her for some other guy to get his hands on, and I had made my way to the bus. The final member to defile the frontwoman.

“So, there’s going to be a next time?” Bea asked, sliding along the counter towards me, closing the gap between us as she blew on her steaming cup of tea.

Taking her in with fresh eyes, eyes that could see a better future, I nodded. “Yeah. There will. But Beatrix…” I took her mug from her hand and placed it on the counter. “I want you to myself, at least once.”

If the others could have that, so could I. Fuck the regrets. Fuck how wrong it still felt. I could keep this up if it meant my future was brighter than any star in the sky. And when I ripped open her shirt, boosted her tender little ass up onto the counter, and ran my tongue down the centre of her chest, I saw an array of flashing lights and fame beyond my wildest dreams.

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