Rock Free Page 8

  Choose me.

  Choose us.

  For now.

  For the foreseeable future.

  Maybe even for forever.

  Chapter 10

  Sara

  “I cannot wait to get back to Texas.” Rebekah pushed a stroller as we herded her kids around Central Park. “This city is too difficult to explain to my children. I mean, look at those women over there. They’re practically naked!”

  I followed her line of sight to a pair of runners in shorts and sports bra. Perfectly acceptable outerwear if you’re running. “But, Bekah, it’s hot and they’re exercising.”

  “Yes, but we don’t have to see everything.”

  I sighed.

  Clothing had always been an issue in my family. We hadn’t been allowed to show cleavage, or to wear skirts that were too tight or too short. We had to cover our shoulders in church and when we were on his TV program. Simple patterns were preferred, as well as muted colors.

  Today I wore khaki pants and a plain T-shirt, a travesty by Father’s standards but rather conservative by NYC standards. Rebekah, on the other hand, wore a long, flowered skirt and a cute pink blouse with cap sleeves. I shuddered to think what she’d say if she ever saw me in Point Break concert clothes or the outfit I’d chosen for their video shoot.

  Rock, my father had said, had been born from rebellion and contained messages his flock should not hear. He couldn’t see that rock songs were about giving people hope. About expressing frustration, about having a good time? That was it—no more, no less.

  And that music had led me to Wes.

  That didn’t diminish my faith in God. In fact, it strengthened it. Part of felt I was meant to meet Wes that night in the elevator. We were meant to run into each other and start this…this… I had no idea what to call what was happening between me and Wes, but I did know what was happening was making me happy.

  In a normal family—if those existed—I’d be able to giggle and talk freely about how excited and giddy Wes made me feel, about the butterflies that have been dancing in my stomach since I’d met him. I wished I could share that happiness with my sisters freely and not wonder if they only visited me to spy on me for Father.

  “You’re so quiet,” Rebekah said, even as she pushed Isaac’s massive stroller.

  “I know. I’m just worried about midterms. My Greek class has been really kicking my ah—rear,” I said, checking myself at the last minute. I’d gotten used to speaking differently on campus. Had I used the word “ass,” my sister would’ve passed out from the shock.

  As it was, she gave me a side glance. “I can help you with Greek. I always had a talent for that back at Bob Jones University. But it seems more like your head is on Cloud Nine.”

  More like Cloud Wes. I ducked my head down, knowing a blush was forming on my cheeks.

  “Sara! There is someone!” Rebekah happily exclaimed. “Don’t lie to your sister. It’s a sin. And it’s not nice. Now tell me the truth.”

  She was right. I couldn’t lie to my own sister, and she wasn’t exactly giving me an out. I nodded, uncertain of how to play this without actually lying. “I did meet a guy, and he’s really nice.”

  “Oh? Is he in your classes? Or did you meet him in your youth group?” She squinted at me, a hint of suspicion in her tone.

  I wondered if she was trying to activate some virginity-detector to make sure I was still pure. Little did she know that ship sailed back in freshman year. “I, um, met him at a music event. He’s a guitarist.”

  “Ah, so is he interested in pursuing a career in religion through music?”

  If by religion, she meant transporting legions of fans to a higher realm of consciousness through music, then yes, he was into religion. “It wasn’t the first thing we discussed, no.”

  Rebekah frowned, even as she clucked at Rachel and Esther to hop off a curb and onto the grass. “But he’s a Christian, right? One of Father’s followers?”

  I shrugged. “Again, I didn’t ask.” I wanted to, though. I wanted to know what Wes believed. Hoped that spirituality was something we could share and discuss.

  My sister sucked in a breath. “Sara. If he’s not the same faith, then you’re not compatible. I’m surprised that wasn’t the first thing you discussed.”

  “We’ve only known each other a short while. We’re not talking wedding bells here. All I know right now is he makes me feel happy and special. Isn’t that what a relationship should be about? Isn’t that how you and Bill feel?”

  Rebekah made a sound, a blend of exasperation and melancholy. “We love the same things. He’s the father of my children.”

  “That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for you. But…maybe I’m different. Maybe I want different things in life,” I said, nervous I was finally broaching the subject. “Didn’t you ever want something other than the life Father and Mother lead?”

  “Once maybe, but I grew up. I know you think you can trust a guy you love but you just can’t. Not if he’s not like us.”

  Whoa. This sounded like she had someone specific in mind. My sister was almost ten years older than me. If she’d ever had any rebellious phases as a teenager, it had to have been when I was six and too little to remember. I squeezed her shoulder. “Rebekah, what happened?”

  “Nothing that matters anymore,” she said, ducking away from my touch and pushing Isaac farther down the path.

  I knew Rebekah well enough that if she wasn’t willing to open up on the first pry, then there was no point in trying. She might’ve been open and chatty, but only if you wanted to talk about home, children, or gossip about the girls back in Texas. But I could see that something had happened to her once, and it made me wonder—had Rebekah had a bad experience with a “Wes” of her own?

  And was I barreling down a road that would lead me to the same result?

  Kass was gone, spending the night with her girlfriend. I was supposed to be working on a big project for my Greek class, but my mind wasn’t processing any of it. I was anxiously waiting for Wes to call me. Since Point Break was working long nights in LA on the song recording, Wes usually got done around midnight or 1:00 a.m., NYC time.

  I kept staring at my phone to see if a text had come through, or a call I might have missed. My ringer was turned way up, yet I checked it every two seconds. It was past midnight, and maybe he wouldn’t call. I didn’t want to be that clingy girlfriend who got anxious if her guy didn’t call on time, and yet that was exactly how I felt.

  After my conversation with my sister, I was more keyed up than usual. Someone had definitely hurt Rebekah at some point in her past, and it made me worry about me and Wes. This was all so new, and I wasn’t the best at relationships. What if he got tired of me? What if what I thought was a special connection ended up me being his flavor of the week?

  No, it wouldn’t happen. Wes was the one who’d asked to see me again, not the other way around. He was interested. He’d pursued me by bringing back my phone and not giving up. I was just letting whatever had happened to Rebekah freak me out.

  My phone buzzed, breaking me out of my thoughts. It was Wes. I picked up right away—too eagerly?

  “Hey, baby,” came Wes’s deep and tired voice. “I tried calling on a video chat, but it didn’t go through.”

  I frowned. “I haven’t updated my phone in ages. Maybe there’s a glitch. I’m sorry. I don’t have Skype on my laptop, either.”

  A low chuckle came over the line. “No worries, I just wanted to see your sweet face, is all.”

  My heart fluttered in my chest and my mouth went dry. I struggled to regain my sanity. “Hey, how’s the recording going?”

  “Man, can you tell me why we couldn’t do this recording in the Big Apple? I’m so sick of being away from you, baby.”

  My heart warmed at his words. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “We should have this song wrapped up in a day or two. Are you ready for the platinum wig and red miniskirt, Little Red?”

  “Not exactl
y ready, but I’m excited.” Mostly, however, I was excited that I would be seeing him soon.

  “I, for one, can’t wait to see you in that outfit again.”

  My mind instantly formed memories of our time in the costume room. The table, my legs wide apart, his kisses, his fingers…Goodness! But I still worried. “I can’t let my family find out about me doing the video vixen thing, Wes.”

  “They won’t find out.”

  I ignored his emphatic statement and added, “It’s not just them—if my classmates saw me, they’d laugh.”

  Wes chuckled. “I call bullshit. You have a beautiful body, girl.”

  Heat flared in my belly and wetness pooled between my legs. How could just the sound of his voice, that velvety purr in his words, make me long for him? He was as hot over the phone as he was in person. My clit throbbed, and I really needed a release.

  “Wes?” I asked, my voice stuck in my throat.

  “Yes?”

  “What are you doing now?”

  “Besides talking to the sexiest woman in NYC?”

  I blushed. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about you every day since you left, and well…”

  He chuckled, his voice so rich I could almost bite into it, like the darkest of chocolate cakes. “You want me, Little Red?”

  “Yes.” What was I doing? Whatever it was, I liked this side of me. I liked the instant results and zero beating around the bush.

  “As in, ‘What are you wearing right now?’ Because I’m all about it, baby. I’ve got on jeans and a T-shirt, which I’m taking off.”

  Good Lord. We hadn’t ever gotten to the point where Wes had gotten naked for me, but I’d seen him without a shirt a million times online in concert pics. His body was slender, tall, but strong and shredded, as my roommate liked to say.

  “That sounds nice,” I said, then slapping my face, added, “Sexy. Sounds sexy.” Ugh, I was so bad at this, but I was grateful, so grateful, that Wes knew what I wanted and was picking up on it.

  “Little Red, what is it you want to do? Because this Big Bad Wolf is all ready for it,” he said, and I could hear the zing of a zipper. “I know what you want, but I need to hear it from you. Tell me.”

  “Hold on.” My heart pounded in my chest, sending blood flowing down to that needy space between my legs. Standing, I scurried to the door and made sure it was locked, then climbed back into bed. I shucked off my sleep shirt so I was naked from the waist up, lying there in my plain cotton undies. Blowing out a nervous breath, I closed my eyes.

  “Hi, I’m back,” I said.

  “What do you want, baby?”

  “I want you to talk to me. Make me come, Wes.”

  “I can definitely do that, Little Red. Tell me what you’re wearing.”

  I couldn’t have been more excited. I’d heard about the “What are you wearing” thing, but this was my first time having phone sex. “Panties. White cotton panties.”

  “And?”

  “That’s it. What about you?” I grew bolder by the moment. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so shy anymore. Wes was funny and sexy, and he made me want to be bad—very bad. “Is your cock out?”

  He groaned a little. “God, that sounds sexy. It’s out, and in my hands, Little Red. Growing bigger by the second. What should I do with it?”

  “Stroke it,” I told him. “But slowly first, just let your hands tease it. I want you to think of me, sitting here with my shirt off and my hand down my panties. I’m feeling between my legs and can’t believe how wet I am, just from hearing your voice.”

  “Are you slick for me, baby?” He purred like a contented jungle cat. “Because you definitely were last time, and I loved it.”

  “I am. So wet and ready,” I said. I slid my fingers past my folds. “I’m about to touch my clit. Would you like that?”

  “Hell, yeah. Press your thumb against your clit, all those nerves right there. How do you stroke yourself? Do you need to press hard to get there?”

  I did as he said—no, as he commanded—and even the touch of my thumb against my clit made me shudder. I was so keyed up for him, especially since I hadn’t seen Wes in days. It wouldn’t take much to get me to shatter. “I don’t,” I whimpered, shocked at how much I’d reverted to sounding like a mewling kitten.

  “What do you need?”

  “I just need to hear you talk to me,” I said, desperation in my voice. “Tell me what you’d do to me if you were here.”

  “I’m so hard for you, Little Red. I miss you. Haven’t stopped thinking about you. Imagine me there, love. Imagine me pressing my fingers up against your clit.”

  “I’m imagining it.”

  “Good. Keep touching yourself. I’m here, stroking my thick, hard cock thinking about you in your white cotton panties. Can you squeeze your tits for me with your other hand? I love them so much.”

  I reached up and pushed my tits together with my arm, cradling them as if presenting them to Wes for suckling. “I loved when you sucked on them in the elevator.”

  “I loved it, too. Loved flicking those nipples with my tongue. You’re incredibly sexy, Little Red.” His voice. His voice had dropped about four notches and now sounded raw and husky.

  I slid two fingers into my core and began to pump them in and out slowly. As I listened to the sounds of his settling in and getting more comfortable, I pressed my thumb against my clit and made myself feel good. “What would you do if we were together?”

  “I don’t know if you could handle it, baby. You’re such a good girl.”

  “I can be bad with you, Wes.” I bit back my smile. “Bad in the best way possible.”

  “Okay, but I warned you,” he said, chuckling. “First, I’d push you up against a wall, tits flat against it. A body like yours deserves to be fucked all over the place, especially from behind, so I can get deep up in you.”

  I almost came right then and there, but I didn’t want this to end yet. “That sounds amazing. And then?”

  “Then I’d turn you around, wrap those gorgeous long legs around me, and I’d have you press your dripping wet pussy up against my waist.”

  I nodded, even if I knew he couldn’t see it. “Yes…”

  My rhythm picked up, fingers sliding in and out so fast, I almost lost track of them. I ground my thumb against my clit, listening to Wes’s soft breathing. It was like fire spreading out from my touch, roaring flames consuming, not just my core, but my whole body. They met up with the heat flaring in my belly, and it was all a matter of moments from then on.

  “What else?” I gasped, barely able to go on.

  “Then, I’d take my cock—the one right in my hand—position it, then…plow into you.”

  Oh, God.

  “I’d slide into your tight, wet pussy and pound you hard, leave you sore for days. I want you to feel me, feel how hard I am for you, how desperate.”

  My fingers flew back and forth now, a blur working to send me over the edge. My other hand held my breast tightly, my left nipple between my fingers, as my other hand worked my clit like a master pianist, a skill I didn’t even know I had. I’d never been this inspired before, never had a man whispering in my ear before. Only this man was Wes Shaw.

  “I’m so close,” I whispered, feeling that fire whipping over me, but I wasn’t quite ready.

  “Then,” he said, his own voice hoarse and slightly distorted, “then, baby, I’d bite at your throat, suck on your neck, scrape my teeth along that pretty pulse point of yours even as I thrust against you.”

  He emphasized his point by groaning as he pumped into his own hand. I could hear it and it gave me goosebumps. What would Wes’s cock look like? Was it big and thick? Long and covered in veins?

  I moved my one hand from my nipple to my throat, and then grazed my nails against my pulse point to mimic his words. It was enough—that bit of pain merged with the fire inside and I crested. My body shuddered, and I shattered with the force of the orgasm sweeping over me. I screamed loudly but bit it back, remembering where I
was, half-afraid of someone knocking on my door.

  I’d never felt ecstasy like this in my whole life, and he was thousands of miles away. What kind of intimate joy could Wes give me if we were together all the time?

  On the other end, Wes shouted as well. Afterward, he was quiet for a long while, his panting the only sound to be heard. I could almost imagine his hot body covered in a sheet of sweat, fresh and glowing from our lovemaking.

  I couldn’t speak, only lie there listening to his breathing and my receding heartbeat.

  Finally, he spoke. “That…baby…that was something else. I can’t wait to have you in my arms again, as soon as possible. Just a few more days, and then you’re in trouble.”

  “I want to be in trouble with you,” I said, my head still fuzzy, my mind barely remembering how to speak English.

  “When we get back, there’s a party at Corbin and Aimee’s place in the City. Will you come?” he asked. “The band, my friends…I want you to get to know them.”

  “You do?” My brain still wasn’t working. Did he just say he wanted me to meet his friends? I couldn’t help but allow my heart to soar.

  “Definitely.”

  “Sure.”

  “Good. They’re going to love you just as much as I do. I’ll text you the address later. Now, get some sleep. One of us shouldn’t be exhausted in the morning,” he said.

  Wait, had he just said he loved me? He had to mean in the friendly sense, like he loved me and his friends would love me too, right?

  Not wanting to overthink it, I simply said okay. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Wes. Have a good night.”

  “You too, Little Red. Thank you for the perfect end to my night.”

  And then he signed off.

  As my screen went dark, all I could do was replay his words and actions. Love. I didn’t even think Wes knew how honest he was being in that unguarded moment. Besides, maybe it was just the afterglow of the orgasm talking.