the small of my back as we walked out of the hotel, or grabbing my hips as he squeezed past me once we got on the bus. The heat of his eyes followed me as I walked up and down the aisle, lingering on my hands making a drink and then staring at my legs as I settled into the leather lounge seats in the back. He followed me back there, not talking much, but very much in my space. I could almost get used to it.
If it weren’t for the constant, excruciating way my body was affected by his mere presence, that is. This? This constant yearning, this need that didn’t seem to have any way of being met that didn’t include him? This nagging desire that kept an endless loop running in my brain of the moment our lips met? I would never get used to that.
The most I could hope for was that someday, very, very soon, he would allow me to obtain some other, more satisfying loops to play in my head.
I had never wanted anyone more than I wanted Colt James. And now that I thought about it, I had never been told no, either. It was no wonder he was under my skin. But with a body like that, well…fuck. There was no hope for me.
The drive to Portland was long as hell. Ten hours of being on the bus and sitting next to him, listening to his low vibrato that hit me right in the gut with every word, the leather-scented heat that rolled off him and right into my pants. It was pure fucking torture.
And hell yeah…he knew it. He loved it, I could tell. But two could play at that game. Did he think I couldn’t wear him down? Did he underestimate me? I might not have to use it often to seduce someone, but if I needed to, I could turn it on. For fuck’s sake, I did it every night on stage.
As painful as it was to not be able to do exactly what I wanted with Colt, I was filled with a constant thread of gratitude for his presence. And Jesse’s, too.
After a while, Jesse joined us in the back, and it made me like him even more. I could breath a little easier than when I was all alone with Colt.
We laughed and joked, playing cards as we headed North on the highway. Jesse and I drank a few beers, while Colt ate everything in the refrigerator. After a while, I retired to my bunk, hoping to get a few hours of sleep.
I awoke to the sound of rain falling on the bus, and when I got out of my bunk, I saw it was already dark outside, even though it was only five o’clock. Wind swept through the trees, turning the street into a frenzy of wet leaves and rain.
“I guess we’re in Portland,” I said, sarcastically to Colt, who sat in the back talking quietly with Jesse. They looked out the windows, and laughed.
“Don’t worry, darlin’, I don’t think a little rain is gonna hurt you. You aren’t that sweet,” Colt teased, giving me a wink from his seat. He looked so fucking handsome, it was impossible to get mad at him.
“Fuck you,” I said, mustering all the sweetness into my voice that I could. It wasn’t easy. My voice was usually full of torment, pain, and jagged edges.
The boys laughed, and I joined them. We pulled up to the Moda Center, the bus entering a private gate as we drove past the ever present waiting crowd. Despite all the intense pressure, I was grateful for the fans. If I didn’t have them, I wouldn’t have this life. I wouldn’t have all these people that depended on me to feed their families and give them jobs. The fans are the ones who fed this machine. The irony of one of them wanting to kill me, or get close enough to hurt me, wasn’t lost on me.
When the bus stopped, I gathered a few things from the bus and followed the production manager inside. I had met Harvey before, at our last show in Portland, and it was nice to see a familiar face. He had been particularly helpful last time, helping me sneak out the back of the venue in a secret car so that I could go out and try to have a good time for a few hours after my show.
There was
If it weren’t for the constant, excruciating way my body was affected by his mere presence, that is. This? This constant yearning, this need that didn’t seem to have any way of being met that didn’t include him? This nagging desire that kept an endless loop running in my brain of the moment our lips met? I would never get used to that.
The most I could hope for was that someday, very, very soon, he would allow me to obtain some other, more satisfying loops to play in my head.
I had never wanted anyone more than I wanted Colt James. And now that I thought about it, I had never been told no, either. It was no wonder he was under my skin. But with a body like that, well…fuck. There was no hope for me.
The drive to Portland was long as hell. Ten hours of being on the bus and sitting next to him, listening to his low vibrato that hit me right in the gut with every word, the leather-scented heat that rolled off him and right into my pants. It was pure fucking torture.
And hell yeah…he knew it. He loved it, I could tell. But two could play at that game. Did he think I couldn’t wear him down? Did he underestimate me? I might not have to use it often to seduce someone, but if I needed to, I could turn it on. For fuck’s sake, I did it every night on stage.
As painful as it was to not be able to do exactly what I wanted with Colt, I was filled with a constant thread of gratitude for his presence. And Jesse’s, too.
After a while, Jesse joined us in the back, and it made me like him even more. I could breath a little easier than when I was all alone with Colt.
We laughed and joked, playing cards as we headed North on the highway. Jesse and I drank a few beers, while Colt ate everything in the refrigerator. After a while, I retired to my bunk, hoping to get a few hours of sleep.
I awoke to the sound of rain falling on the bus, and when I got out of my bunk, I saw it was already dark outside, even though it was only five o’clock. Wind swept through the trees, turning the street into a frenzy of wet leaves and rain.
“I guess we’re in Portland,” I said, sarcastically to Colt, who sat in the back talking quietly with Jesse. They looked out the windows, and laughed.
“Don’t worry, darlin’, I don’t think a little rain is gonna hurt you. You aren’t that sweet,” Colt teased, giving me a wink from his seat. He looked so fucking handsome, it was impossible to get mad at him.
“Fuck you,” I said, mustering all the sweetness into my voice that I could. It wasn’t easy. My voice was usually full of torment, pain, and jagged edges.
The boys laughed, and I joined them. We pulled up to the Moda Center, the bus entering a private gate as we drove past the ever present waiting crowd. Despite all the intense pressure, I was grateful for the fans. If I didn’t have them, I wouldn’t have this life. I wouldn’t have all these people that depended on me to feed their families and give them jobs. The fans are the ones who fed this machine. The irony of one of them wanting to kill me, or get close enough to hurt me, wasn’t lost on me.
When the bus stopped, I gathered a few things from the bus and followed the production manager inside. I had met Harvey before, at our last show in Portland, and it was nice to see a familiar face. He had been particularly helpful last time, helping me sneak out the back of the venue in a secret car so that I could go out and try to have a good time for a few hours after my show.
There was
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