Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
She does as I suggest, gagging when my head hits the back of her throat. She’s not the best dick sucker, but I’d give her an A for effort.
Camden: Jill is the tour manager. She has enough going on. She doesn’t have time to babysit you guys. We need a new publicist before we go on tour. I need you here so we can discuss it.
Declan: Speak for yourself. I don’t need a babysitter. That would be the other two dumbasses.
Gage:
The heavy breathing of the woman sucking my cock has me looking down. She’s going to town on it, licking and sucking it like a lollipop, but it’s doing nothing for me. She’s not the first woman who hasn’t been able to bring me to a release... not since... Fuck, I’m not going there.
Me: I don’t care what you decide. I’m in the middle of something important.
Gage: I’m good with whatever you decide.
Declan: I’m almost there. I’m not getting stuck with another airhead on this tour.
Camden: Brax, I think you should be here...
Me: If you’re worried about me fucking her, send a pic and I’ll let you know.
Camden: GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE!
Me: No can do. Gotta go.
I chuck my phone onto the nightstand and focus on getting my dick sucked, refusing to believe that I’m broken. When the woman takes me deep again and nothing happens, I sigh in frustration. “Hey, babe, sorry to cut this short, but I gotta go.”
She looks up, her mascara dripping down her cheeks. “But you haven’t come yet.” She pouts.
“It’s not happening, but I appreciate the effort.” I stand and tuck my dick back into my pants. “There’s money in the bowl near the door for an Uber.”
Once she’s out the door, I head into the bathroom so I can shower, feeling dirty as fuck. I turn the hot water on to full blast and step under the spray. I squirt some body wash into my hands, lather it up, and clean my body. When my hand lands on my soft dick, I stroke it up and down, getting it hard, needing to prove that I’m not broken and just having a dry spell of sorts.
My eyes close, and I focus on getting harder and harder. I try to imagine the woman from earlier on her knees, sucking my dick, yet thoughts of someone else appear instead: blond hair, gray eyes, red lips, perfect tits, toned thighs, an ass I can grab on to, and—
I come hard all over the shower wall—proving that I’m okay and pissing me off at the same time. Because she’s the last person I should be thinking about when I come, but ever since I ran into her a few months ago when we were having dinner with our friends, I can’t get her out of my head. I hate her. I loathe her. But fuck if I don’t still want her.
I tell myself it’s because we’re in the same city. I haven’t seen her in years, so it’s fucking with my head. She’s all over the gossip sites for trying to fuck that pop musician. That’s all it is. Seeing her face everywhere and hearing about her is messing with me. Once we’re back on tour and I’m away from her, shit will go back to normal.
“It feels like we were just on tour,” I whine as I drag my hungover ass up the stairs and onto the plane.
“That’s because we were,” Declan agrees. “Less than a year ago.”
“I think after this one, we should take a long break,” I say, fully aware I sound like an ungrateful asshole, but my head is pounding, and I’m already dreading living the next two months on the tour bus, on planes, and in hotels.
“I’m down for that,” Camden says. “I’d like to be home for a little while after the baby is born anyway.” A small smile spreads across his face, and even though I think love is bullshit, I can’t help but be happy for my friend. Because he finally got the woman he’s loved and wanted for years. It might’ve taken them awhile to find their way to each other, but they’re now married, expecting a baby, and fucking happy. I hope it works out for them better than it did for me.
“Is Layla here?” I ask Camden, referring to his wife. He’d mentioned that she and her five-year-old son, Felix, would be joining us for a few days since our first stop on the tour is LA.
“Yeah, she’s laying Felix down for a nap in the bedroom,” Camden says. “Listen, I need to talk to you real quick. I’ve been trying to tell you something but—”
Before he can finish his thought, a blur of blond catches my attention. I glance over at the door of the plane and what I see has my heart picking up speed, my palms sweating, and my already pounding head throbbing in pain. This can’t be happening. I’m seeing shit, I have to be. There’s no way she’s here on this plane. I close my eyes and then reopen them, but she’s still there, standing in the doorway.