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Chapter Twenty-Nine
The small extra dates the promoter, Daniel West, got us consisted of a large theatre gig, two spots on a festival, due to another band dropping out last minute and two smaller concerts. Therefore, the four we had been scheduled to do became five.
Not that I minded, as we had been due a day off and it meant Strings, Hammer, and I hadn’t needed to play sitter to Wiggy, who was still too jittery for the rest of the band’s liking. Since Billie had been on the scene touring hadn’t felt the same, but I knew I couldn’t blame her for how I felt, because if I looked back at how the year before had gone, I had been frustrated with all of them in one way or another.
Most of the banter and camaraderie was gone between us and in its place was a growing resentment toward Wiggy, mainly from Strings, but since the small break in between California and this tour, Hammer’s normally saintly patience with him had also grown thin.
For a while I had wondered if we’d all outgrown one another; after all we had gotten together at a pretty young age, or whether Wiggy’s substance abuse, excessive drinking, and his increasingly contemptuous behavior and blatantly obnoxious disregard for women had taken its toll on us all.
This had led me to wonder why I had been more tolerant of Hammer because he’d been through the same journey with drugs. I knew it was because I had seen how broken Hammer was and how determined he’d been to kick his habit, none of which I’d witnessed with any real conviction from Wiggy. To my mind he was depending on Hammer to keep him clean.
Whatever the deal, I had been most observant of Strings, and I’d been ninety percent convinced that by the time we’d finished our stint with RedA he’d have found an excuse to walk. There was nothing like having a child to bring things into perspective.
At one time I’d have felt anxious at the thought of the band breaking up, but since I’d been nursing a secret I hadn’t shared with the guys, I was more anxious about leaving Billie and Colby alone with her carrying the twins.
When we formed DisKord we had a common purpose and we’d all had the same ambitious goals, but that was then and now we were ten-year veterans, and both Strings and I had become jaded.
We were just too far out of reach to go home every day, but apart from the negative of worrying about Billie at home, the crowds had been appreciative and friendly and this had kept my spirits up, despite everything else.
However, if anyone had asked me what I felt the best part of it all was, I’d have had to have said it was that we finished the last gig in Philadelphia. We’d arrived there that evening with only two hours to go, but from there, thanks to my powerful ride I made the journey home on interstate 295 in a little over an hour.
* * *
Entering our apartment at 1:00 a.m., I toed off my battered old biker boots and snuck gingerly along the dark quiet hallway. The wooden floor creaked and I stopped for a second, listening, but no one stirred. Pushing our door ajar, my heart immediately swelled when my love-starved eyes landed on Billie’s sweet restful face.
Sound asleep her lips looked slightly parted and her cheeks appeared a little flushed because she’d cranked up the heat full blast. I’d never known anyone as cold-blooded with such a warm heart. Leaving her undisturbed, I crept into our bathroom and closed the heavy wooden door. The soundproofing in this apartment was fantastic, I’d made sure of this after our previous frustrating sex sessions in the house she used to own.
Stepping into the shower, I washed off the grime from that night’s performance and the subsequent sweat from riding my bike in a leather jacket for over an hour on the way back. Turning away from the spray I rinsed off my hair and almost died of fright when I looked up and saw Billie standing by the glass door watching me.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” she mumbled, her long dark curly hair tousled perfectly from being asleep. Grabbing her wrist, I gently tugged her in next to me, and although she let out a yelp she hardly resisted. The warm jets from the shower instantly turned the plain white T-shirt she wore transparent and the delicious agony in my groin almost made me take her then and there.
That was until my greedy eyes fell to look at her nipples peeking through and the hard studs of her erect nipples pressing taut against the fabric. My cock immediately twitched and grew, thickening like a man starved of sex for months, when in reality we’d had a long and lustful night of passion a little over a week before.
“Out,” I demanded, cutting our steamy shower scene short, because the last thing I’d have done was place the mother of my children at risk by standing in a hazardous zone full of water and soap.
Billie giggled as I grabbed the hem of her T-shirt and stripped it over her head, then our eyes met again and the instant I saw the wanton look of intent in her deep blue eyes I knew she was desperate for me.
Still staring up at me, the chemistry felt insane, our connection solid, and neither of us had wanted to break the contact.
“Damn, you are so beautiful,” I mumbled, dipping my head eventually when my eyes briefly dropped to her neck, and I was too goddammed horny not to take a taste right then. The moment my lips touched her silky soft wet skin, her tiny delicate fingers curled around my cock. When she closed her fist, she held me there with all the confidence I’d been trying to tease out of her for months.
“Missed you,” she muttered, stroking a sharp cherry red painted nail from my collarbone to my hip, tracing both sides of the V cut which formed a trail to my cock. “I think I’d like you right here, Mr. Wild,” she said, with more confidence than I’d ever known her to have, and I figured who was I to deny her.
Grabbing her by her waist, I spun her around, and bent her over the sink. My foot immediately kicking hers wider as I dropped to my knees and buried my face between her soft still wet thighs.
One flick of my tongue and she almost headbutted the mirror, and I chuckled against her bare wet outer lips, before I pressed a kiss to them and kept my lips there. Drawing in a long breath I blew heat back against her pussy and she shivered.
“Oh, jeez, Sawyer, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this,” she confessed.
“Oh, darlin’, I think I do. Let me guess … a week?” I taunted and chuckled. Reacting to my tease she had begun to swivel her hips in an effort to look at me, but I swept my hot tongue the length of her slit. “Mmm,” I groaned deep into her core. Her legs instantly buckled and the words I’d figured were on the tip of her tongue were immediately inhaled by the sharp intake of breath I was conscious she’d taken.
“You’re fucking delicious. How much do you want me?” I goaded, in a naughty teasing tone laced with desire, as her legs buckled at the knees. “Oh, dear God,” she prayed groaning into the sink, and the ceramic bowl magnified her voice which made me laugh even more. I stood and leaned over her. Staring at us both in the mirror.
The skin on my cock was stretched to bursting point, such was my need to be inside her. Every inch of me ached for her, my abdominal muscles taut, my shoulders and back muscles flexing and straining as my whole body primed like a coiled spring desperate for release.
There had been no real time for foreplay, both of us desperate to satisfy the other, and ourselves. A week without being inside her had been seven days too long, so I lined myself up, slid my hands to her hips, and pushed my way inside.
Feeling every delicious wave of muscle I glided in, exhaling the breath I’d been holding in preparation to take her, and moved one palm to her small bump in a protective, possessive hold.
“God. Mmm,” she moaned so sexily I felt it in my core. “So good, Sawyer, so good” she added the repeat version of her chant in a whisper. Arching her ass back into me, she rose up on tiptoes to meet me as I slid gently all the way in, filling her tight wet pussy. She felt fucking amazing, too good, and although I felt tired and drained, I knew I wouldn’t sleep soundly next to her if I couldn’t satisfy us both.
Once inside her I wanted to stay there all day, but my neglected aching dick had decided it had a better idea. Twice I fought myself back from the brink and edging only made my cock feel worse, so as soon as my wife fell over the edge I quickly followed, even though I’d have liked to have lasted longer. I felt totally spent.
No one had ever had that effect on me like Billie had, her soft sweet body, her taste, touch, and the sexy erotic sounds her body made when we were one was like my personal kryptonite, my sexual undoing. I had always denied I had an addictive nature, but since I’d met my wife, I knew that theory had been constantly tested.
