“We, are never, ever, ever getting back together!” Perry sang in a loud, off-key voice which made everyone laugh.
“That’s gold, man. You just don’t understand,” Allan said, shaking his head sadly. “You get it, right Pinky?”
“Oh, I get a nickname?” I said.
“Everyone who joins The Band gets a nickname,” Perry said. “Especially if your real name sucks.”
“So you’re saying Katie sucks?” I said, turning to him. He was paler than Lottie, as if he spent all day in his basement, but he had deep brown eyes and the cheekbones of a model under a mop of dishwater blond hair.
“No, I wouldn’t say that it sucks. It’s just really common. So is Christopher, which is my real name.”
“Nice save, Per,” Stryker said, giving him a thumbs up. “So you want a drink before we do another?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said.
“Okay, take five,” Stryker said in a mock serious voice. Everyone broke up, and some went outside to smoke while Stryker took me into the kitchen and handed me a beer from the fridge. I felt Ric’s eyes following my every move.
“So what do you think?” he said as I popped the top and took a swig. Beer wasn’t really my drink of choice, but I wasn’t going to turn it down.
“You guys are amazing. I feel intimidated by your talent.”
He grabbed another drink and leaned against the counter.
“Are they what you expected?” That was a loaded question.
“Honestly, I was expecting more tattoos, scary guys with motorcycles and girls who looked like they could rip my spleen out with one hand.”
He raised his pierced eyebrow. “So you thought my friends would be scary?”
I leaned next to him on the counter, our shoulders touching, and sighed.
“I don’t know. Are you mad at me?” I swirled the bottle in my hand.
“Hey,” he said, bumping my shoulder lightly. “Do you think I’m scary?”
“Well, the first time I met you, you did have fake fangs on, sooo…” I bumped him back.
“Haha,” he said. “That is true.”
“I’m not scared of you,” I said, lying through my teeth. I was terrified of him, but not in the way he thought. I was scared of how I felt around him.
“I’m not scared of you, either.” Our eyes met and I thought he was going to kiss me, but a voice invaded our moment.
“Hey, Stryk, do you think you could give my engine a look? It started making this noise on the way over, and you know that Baxter wouldn’t know a spark plug if it bit him on the ass,” Ric said with a little grin, appearing out of absolutely nowhere.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be right back.” He touched my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Don’t get scared while I’m gone.”
“I won’t,” I whispered back. Ric saw the exchange, and gave me the briefest of glares before turning on the charm with Stryker again.
“Soooo, Pinky. Where the hell did you come from?” Allan said, coming back in with the smoking group.
“Just ignore him,” Zoey said, going to the fridge. Out of all the girls, she was the least ‘modified,’ and just had a nose ring and had her light brown hair chopped into a messy bob. “That’s what I do.”
“Oh, come on Zo. You know you want me,” he said, coming up behind her and pretending to kiss her neck. She jammed her elbow back, getting him in the gut, and he doubled over falling to the floor, groaning while everyone else laughed.
Zoey put her foot on his chest, as if she was going to stomp on it. “For the millionth time, Allan, it’s
never
going to happen.”
“Because I have a penis,” he moaned, still on the floor.
“Yes, because you have a penis and you’re also a dick.” She ground her foot back and forth and then lifted it off him. He grinned up at her.
“Not always.”
She rolled her eyes and stepped over him, going back to the couch.
“Are you okay?” I said. No one else seemed concerned about Allan, who was still writhing on the floor.
“Yeah, I’m good.” He pushed himself up, using the counter to get fully vertical again. “She just shuts me down every time. I’m not a dick. Well, at least not most of the time.”
“I’m reserving judgment,” I said, crossing my arms.
He laughed, pointing at me. “I like you. I hope you stick around. Do you sing or play or anything?”
“Ah, no. I’m just here as a groupie, I guess.” Stryker came back in, and it wasn’t my imagination that his eyes searched the room until he found me.
“You have any sisters? Friends?” He winked and that made me laugh.
“They’re taken. But nice try,” I said, walking past him and patting him on the shoulder. “There is a lid for every pot.”
I sat down next to Stryker again.
“How was the engine problem?” I said, resisting putting sarcastic emphasis on “engine problem.”
His eyes widened in mock surprise. “There didn’t seem to be a problem. Can you imagine that?” I pretended to gasp.
“I cannot.” We both laughed as everyone settled back into their spots.
“Don’t worry about Ric. She’s not the one I want to fuck on this couch after I kick everyone out,” he whispered in my ear before swapping his mandolin with Zoey for his banjo.
I’d said no this afternoon, but maybe it was the combination of the alcohol burning in my veins or the music burning in my ears, but I wanted him to throw everyone out right then and there and have my way with him. Not angry-revenge sex. Just hot, sweaty, passionate sex.
They played “Beat The Devil’s Tattoo” again, followed by “Demons”, by Imagine Dragons and then “Letter to the President”, by a Maine band, The Rustic Overtones, followed by a crazy time when someone would yell out a random song and they’d all attempt to play it. Anything from commercial jingles to cheesy pop songs. Then Allan yelled out “We Are Never Getting Back Together!” and they started playing it.
They didn’t quite know the lyrics, but that made it all the more entertaining.
“Sing it out, Pinky!” Allan yelled as they mumbled their way through the verses. I’d finished my first drink and was on my second, so my walls were down a bit. I sang the words, and somehow my voice carried and everyone followed me. I didn’t try to do anything fancy, but somehow I was able to blend with the rest of them and sound okay. At least, not like an injured whale or one of those horrible tone-deaf people on American Idol.
They ended the song with a bang and everyone laughed.
“I knew you had it in you, girl,” Allan said, holding his fist out. I bumped it and got fist bumps from everyone else. Except Ric, of course.
“You can sing,” Stryker said, looking at me as if I’d revealed that I had a box full of treasure hidden in my dorm room. I heard a scoffing sound coming from Ric’s direction.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it that. I just like to sing in the car when I drive,” I said, shrugging. “Oh, and I was in chorus in sixth grade and I totally rocked ‘Jingle Bells’ at the holiday concert.”
Everyone laughed.
“Well, it’s getting late,” Stryker said, glancing at the clock on the DVD player. “You guys should probably get home. Don’t you all have things to do early tomorrow morning that you need to go to bed for?”
“All right, all right. Stryker wants to get laid, everyone out,” Allan said, putting his guitar back in its case. “Some of us don’t get to have sex with the girls we want to all the time.”
“Oh shut up, Allan,” Zoey said, getting her coat. “I am only giving you a ride if you are silent the entire way.”
“I don’t know if I can promise that,” he said seriously. “Please?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Fine. It was nice to meet you, Katie.” She waved and gave Allan a look.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
“Bye, Pinky!” Allan yelled from partway down the stairs.
“Next week it’s your turn to host, Allan!” Stryker called as he helped everyone get their instruments back into their cases. I got good-byes and smiles and invitations to come back again. Ric looked like her teeth hurt when she said she wanted to see me again. I just gave her a sweet smile and shut the door behind her.
“You can sing?” Stryker said, and I jumped because he was right behind me. I turned to face him.
“I wouldn’t really call it that. It’s just something I do in the car. And the shower. And sometimes when I’m alone.” He held my face in both hands and did that deep eye stare thing that made me want to slam my body up against him and kiss him until we couldn’t breathe.
“Sweetheart. You. Can. Sing.” We slammed against the door as he attacked me with his mouth.
Chapter Seven
Stryker
Not that her talking voice wasn’t sexy, but when she opened her mouth and vocalized those awful lyrics, I almost fell off the couch. Somehow she’d been hiding the sexiest, sweetest, lilting singing voice. Most girls would spend hours trying to get their voice to yodel at the end like that. She probably wasn’t even aware that she was doing it, which made me want her all the more.
I wanted to fuck her singing voice, but I settled for kissing her instead, plunging my tongue inside her mouth.
Her back crashed against my door as we frantically tried to get our clothes off. I didn’t mind doing it with clothes on, but I liked seeing her body and tasting her skin if she let me.
“Slow down,” I said as she went for my belt. “Slow down, sweetheart.”
“You attacked me first,” she gasped as I kissed her neck, pulling her cardigan aside.
“True,” I said, blowing on her skin until goosebumps formed. “But I changed my mind. Let’s do this slow.” I started with the cardigan, slowly unbuttoning it as her hands moved under my shirt and up and down my back.
“No angry revenge sex?” I could tell she was having a hard time standing still.
I got to the last button and pulled the fabric off one shoulder, kissing the skin it revealed. “No. Just you and me sex.”
She smiled and laughed as I used the hem of her t-shirt to drag her back to the couch. I pushed aside cups and bottles and lay her down.
“If we’re going to take this slow, I think we need some music. Be right back.” I went to my stereo and plugged in my iPod, switching to a playlist I’d made before I met her. Ed Sheeran’s “Give Me Love” was the first song.
I glanced at her and walked back to the couch with the slow beat of the music. I kissed her mouth softly, brushing back her hair with both hands. She kissed me easily and it gave me some time to tease her, to try some things and learn if she liked them based on her response. It was like it was our first time.
Our clothes came off, layer by layer, piece by piece. She kissed my tattoos, and I kissed her freckles. I made my way down her stomach and paused with my face between her thighs.
“You don’t have to. Zack always said no.”
“I’m. Not. Zack,” I said planting a kiss with every word on the inside of her left thigh. “So I’m going to kiss you here. And here. And here.”
“Fuuuuccckkk,” she moaned, grabbing onto my ears.
“Easy, girl.” I backed off a little and started slower. Clearly, she hadn’t had a lot of oral experience, which was a damn shame. It didn’t take too much to get her off, so I decided to go for round two, and then round three. I added my fingers and absolutely wrecked her until her entire body convulsed and she cried out. I wished she could see what she looked like, lost in ecstasy.
I kissed my way back up her body and reached for the condom I’d stuffed behind the couch cushion before she’d come over.
“You really didn’t have to do that, but I’m so glad you did. I owe you at least two blow jobs for that. Would you like the first one now?” Her hand wrapped around my dick and moved up and down.
“Maybe later,” I said. “I want to be inside you.” I handed her the condom and she got it on with her usual swiftness.
“There’s something crazy sexy about a girl who can roll a condom like you.” I moved and then thrust into her so fast she wasn’t expecting it. She gasped and then pulled me close.
“I thought we were taking it slow?” She wrapped her legs around me and waited for me to go again.
“We are.” As slow as I could I pulled almost all the way out and then pounded into her again. We set a syncopated rhythm that drove us both over the edge.
I looked down at her to find her looking at me. Usually she turned her head, but finally, I got to stare into those wide brown eyes. I thrust into her again and held still, kissing her hard. I was shaking with the effort of doing it, but she was shaking too.
I finally couldn’t hold out any longer and I came, saying her name.
We were both still shaking as I lay my head on her chest.
“That was anything but slow,” she said, her fingers threading through my hair. I lifted my head up and propped my chin between her breasts.
“That was nice. Not angry or revenge-y at all.”
“Nope. Just you and me.”
***
“So what’s the deal with you and Ric?” she said as we lay on the couch. She was wearing my shirt and I just had my boxers on and we were sharing a bottle of beer, passing it back and forth.
I shrugged and handed the bottle back to her.
“I’ve known her for a couple of years. We met at a concert and she’s been a little obsessed with me ever since.”
“Obsessed? Don’t we think highly of ourselves.” She took a swig and handed it back to me.
“You have no idea. She’s showed up here in the middle of the night before. I’m actually scared of her.” Katie kissed my shoulder.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
“I bet you will.” I kissed her nose and she giggled. “So my friends aren’t scary, are they?”
“Not really. As long as Ric keeps her paws off you, we’ll be good.”
“And as long as you keep your paws
on
me, we’ll be good.”
She rolled her eyes and drained the rest of the bottle.
***
Katie stayed the night after texting Lottie and saying that she was sleeping over. I dragged her to my bedroom and we both passed out, her head on my chest, her hair all around me.
Her eyes were open when I woke up the next morning.
“Are you watching me sleep?” I said, admiring the way her hair was all over the place. That girl knew how to rock sex hair.