Bullet(71)

I stared at him for a few moments. “I thought you loved me too, but…”

“But what?”

“You’re the one who’s sleeping around, Ethan. I tried to pretend like you weren’t, but you know it and I know it. And I’m tired of you cheating on me. And you can’t expect me to just stand around, happy to let it happen.”

“Christ. I’ve tried to include you in on it.”

The breath escaped my lungs, and it took me a few seconds to form the words. “Don’t you get it, Ethan? I don’t want to share you. I never agreed to an open relationship.”

He just stared at me for a little bit. “You never said we had to be exclusive either.”

“What the…? Are you serious? Ethan, I gave you my f*cking virginity. My virginity. I saved that for you. For you. Why would you even expect me to be happy sharing you with every girl out there? That’s just…narcissistic, thinking the world f*cking revolves around you. Well, guess what? It doesn’t. And we’re done.”

He pulled me close and kissed me, and I was surprised at my lack of response for the man that, deep down (I knew), I still loved. But I had been able to shut it off, tuck it in a box and file it on a shelf somewhere deep in my heart. And so I was able to not respond, to not feel hot and bothered, to not need to put my arms around him and hold him close. None of those things. I was able to stop myself.

In fact, I placed my hands on his chest and managed to push him away. He looked at me, unbelieving. “I said we’re done, Ethan. You get that?”

Oh, God. He looked crushed. But he took the hint. He let go of me and nodded his head. He walked back to his suitcase, his shoulders just a little droopy, and started to pull the zipper to close it. I let out a breath, feeling guilty as hell, even though I knew I shouldn’t. He’d done this to himself. I didn’t expect him to say another word, but he surprised me again. “So…who’s the guy? Anyone I know?”

He should have been able to figure it out…not the guy, necessarily, but the idea that I wouldn’t just start indiscriminately f*cking around just because that’s what he’d consider doing…had done, multiple times in the past, probably more than I knew. “Why? You don’t really care, do you?”

He pulled his suitcase off the bed and held it next to his side. “Actually, I do.”

Oh. Yeah, I knew why. He wanted to make sure I wasn’t with Brad. “It’s not anyone from Fully Automatic, okay?” Apparently, Ethan had forgotten that Brad had put the kibosh on any hanky panky to keep the band solid. Ethan and I were the idiots who’d ruined his plan, but Brad was an aboveboard kind of guy.

He grunted, and just from the way he was acting, I knew he suspected he might know who it was. But he’d find out soon enough. Part of me—the sympathetic part—wanted to say sorry, but the responsibility was with Ethan. If he hadn’t pushed and pushed and pushed me away, I never would have considered Clayton, no matter how big a flirt he was. Ethan didn’t say a single word as he lifted the suitcase and walked out the door.

And I was so angry with myself that his action actually made me cry.

But I got it together and got packed for the next trip. I’d learned from our summer tours the year before that it didn’t pay to actually unpack. If you lived out of your luggage, it was easier to not forget things and simpler to get ready for the next stop. So I gathered up what few things I did have out and placed them in my luggage. Then I walked out the door, believing this would be the last room I ever shared with Ethan.

All three bands had parked together in parking lot. We’d all had trailers to tote our instruments and equipment in, so we had to park farther away than most guests. I got near the van and stood aside while Brad adjusted things in the very back to make room for all the suitcases. It would all fit; I knew that from experience, but it sometimes took a little maneuvering, and Brad—as usual—was the expert.

I felt uncomfortable. Ethan was leaning against the side of the van smoking a cigarette, looking sour. I glanced over at the Last Five Seconds van. It was a lot like Brad’s, only it was newer and in better condition. I was pretty sure theirs had air conditioning unlike ours, but I wasn’t going to complain. Ours got us where we needed to go.

But I was looking over there, because I wanted to see Clayton again. Once I’d gotten my emotional shit together, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He had my loins all in a tizzy, and I couldn’t wait to be alone with him again. I saw him and felt my heart start pumping harder. Yeah…this guy did it for me. I could tell he was avoiding looking at me, and I knew why. He didn’t know if I’d already broken the news to Ethan, and he didn’t want to draw attention to us. But I think he could feel my eyes on him, because then he looked over at me. I smiled…and then I winked at him. He raised his eyebrows at me, so I gave him a thumbs up. That’s when he smiled back and he started walking over.

Oh, please, no. I was imagining another very public display of affection like Ethan had done the other day, a kind of territorial marking thing, and I was going to be pissed. But Clayton instead gave me a pleasant surprise. He just came over and talked so quietly that no one—not even Ethan, just feet away and probably curious as hell—would hear what he said. “So…everything’s cool?” I smiled again and just nodded. “See you tonight after the show?”

“Oh, hell, yeah.”

He chuckled and walked back to his band. All I could think of was that big goddamned cock stuffed into the front of his jeans…and how happy it was gonna make me later.

* * *

“What the hell is that?”

“It’s called a cock ring.” I started giggling at the purple device with a ring that I assumed would fit over his penis. “Well, more specifically, a vibrating cock ring.”

“What does it do?”

His grin was sly. “Don’t you wanna find out?” Yeah, actually, I did. But then he said, “Unless, of course, you’re wanting to spend time with Clay tonight.”

The whole Jet/ Clay thing was getting a little silly, but I was starting to feel like it was important to him…like maybe he had a huge sensitive side I had no idea about it, and by asking for Jet all the time, I was deflating his ego and making him feel unloved. So I said, “I leave it entirely up to you. I think I’m pretty partial to them both.”

He kissed me then with unrestrained passion. My God, the heat coming off of him made me feel like summer was already in full bloom. It was just a matter of seconds before his lips were on my neck, and he was pulling my shirt over my head.

And I couldn’t resist. He’d already teased me with making me wonder about this vibrating ring. Holy hell. What could it be? I was excited to find out. So I tugged at the button and zipper on his pants and worked my way inside.

“Whoa, girl,” he said. “Ah, what the f*ck? Why not? The ring’ll slow me down anyway.”

I kept rubbing his penis in my hands. I was fascinated by it. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he really liked it. “Slow you down how?”

“That’s the whole point. I’ll be able to stay hard for hours.”

“Hours?”

“Maybe not that long with you…”

I kissed him and laughed. “Let’s test that theory, shall we?” He raised his eyebrows. “Just put it on.”

He grinned and slid it over his penis. It looked like it was too tight. “That doesn’t hurt?”

“No.”

He looked bigger than ever. I was feeling playful, something I’d never felt with Ethan. With Ethan, sex had been serious business, but Clay…or Jet…made it okay to play. So I shoved him so he fell backward onto the bed. But he was lying down. “Sit up.”

“Oh. Bossy. Are you a little bit of a dominatrix?”

Boy, was I naïve. Really naïve. I had no idea then the kinds of things I could have done to him that night. “Why? Would you actually like that?”

“Once in a while…”

Shit, was this boy kinky. But he sat up like I asked, and I got on my knees. I kissed him on the lips first. His tongue tasted so much better without the beer like it had tasted last night. Clay had a flavor all his own, and I’d never be able to describe it, but I knew his cock would taste just as good as the skin on his neck, his tongue…

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” he said as I licked the tip of his penis. God…it had a bluish tint to it, and I knew it was because that ring was acting like a tourniquet. But I did a tongue paintbrush for a few seconds, just wanting to tease him, and he wound his hands through my hair up against my skull. It felt nice…almost domineering but sexy. And then I ran my tongue down the shaft to the base and back again, but then it was time to see how good this ring really was. So I took him in my mouth and sucked long and hard…and that was just the first time. I pushed my tongue against him too, hoping to mimic the tight confines of my vagina with my mouth. He let out a long breath of air, so I knew I was doing just fine. But, slowly at first, I started pulling him in and taking him out, and I increased my speed a little at a time. “Fuck.” I kept it up for several minutes until he said, “Come here.”