So why in the ever-loving hell am I having to rub at my cock through my jeans, attempting to get it hard?
“Touch yourself,” I order, buying some time. “How wet are you?”
She pushes a finger into her pussy and pulls it out. It glistens in the light. Like it’s a lollipop, she sucks her finger into her mouth, making an over-the-top show of enjoying her taste.
My dick doesn’t even twitch.
Not now.
Fuck.
She sits up on her knees and peels off her dress, baring her tits to me. Huge and barely staying inside her black bra. On her knees, she walks over to the edge of the bed.
“I see you looking at these,” she says breathily as she squeezes her tits. “Want to fuck them?”
The idea of pressing her tits together as I fuck the cleavage is something that would normally be a no brainer.
And yet…
I need a drink or ten. I’m too sober.
Before I can state that, she’s undoing my loose, borrowed jeans. They fall to my ankles unceremoniously, showing off my flaccid dick. Her look of surprise is enough to have me panicking—and panic does nothing to help the state of my dick. A thousand thoughts wash through my head about what she’s thinking. It’s irrational, but I can’t stop the paranoia eating away at me.
“I need a drink,” I rasp as I start to reach for my jeans.
“Here,” she purrs, reaching for my soft cock. “Let me suck it to life.”
Oh, Jesus. This is bad.
Her tongue flicks out and tastes my tip as she works my flimsy cock in her tiny hand. The more I stare in shock at my useless dick, the more terror rises up inside me. My eyes slide to her phone on the bed.
My inability to get hard could be a media fucking sensation the moment she lets go.
No. No. No.
Fucking no.
“Everything okay? I’ve been told I’m great at giving head.”
“Yeah, I just need a minute. I just woke up.” I laugh nervously.
“We can bring your friend up if you prefer? Your band mate? Owen, maybe?”
What the fuck does she mean by that? Fuck, now my dick is twitching.
“Oh…” she croons. “I think your dick likes that idea”
Fuck.
“I…uh…stop, lady.”
She pouts and looks up at me in confusion. “Cassidy.”
“Right…um, Cassidy. Can we take a breather for a second? I’m not feeling so hot.”
“Sure,” she says. “I’ll just look at my phone until you’re ready—”
“No!” I bark out, making her jump. “I mean…uh, please. I need to talk to my label. It’s important. Can you just stay here looking so fucking pretty?”
My words make her melt.
“Lie back and make yourself feel good,” I urge.
While she falls back and touches herself, I knock her phone onto the floor, yank up my jeans, and dial Ren. She’s focused on getting off, so I snag up her phone and pocket it while I wait for him to answer.
No answer.
Fuck.
Reluctantly, I call Ronan. I hate having to talk to him, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I cannot have this shit getting out. This could be catastrophic to my reputation.
“Xavi Jacobs,” he says in way of greeting. Cool, guarded, slightly pissed off.
“Ronan,” I whisper, ducking into the adjoining bathroom. “I’m totally fucked.”
“What now?” he growls.
My heart races. “I…uh, there was this girl and…” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Say what you have to say, man. Unless she’s not breathing. In that case, don’t say anything else,” he says impatiently. “Out with it.”
“I can’t get hard.”
The line goes quiet.
“Are you asking me for sex advice?”
I let out a rush of air. “Fuck no. She’s saying shit about me needing Owen or one of the guys in the room to get hard. I’m afraid she’s going to tell the whole fucking world. Help me. Please.”
“I see. You’re at Seth’s from the looks of it. I’ll be there in fifteen with an NDA.”
Though I called him for help, I didn’t expect him to be so accommodating. “Really?”
“Really. Don’t say a word or do anything stupid until we talk. And, Xavi, is there anything I need to know about you and Owen?”
“What the fuck? No, of course not.”
“Okay.”
He hangs up, and I slink back into the bedroom as Cassidy cries out my name. She shudders on the bed. When the aftershocks subside, she grins lazily at me.
“Beautiful,” I praise. “So beautiful, it makes me want to write a song.”
Her blue eyes widen. “No way!”
“Get dressed and I’ll play some shit for you,” I say, shrugging one shoulder.
Eagerly, Cassidy throws on her clothes, then looks around for her phone.
“Private show,” I say with a smile. “It’s only fair since you gave me one.” I give her a wink that has her sighing happily.
Luckily, since I stay here sometimes, Seth keeps an acoustic for me. It’s not as nice as the one Owen’s playing downstairs, but it’ll do the trick. I sit on the edge of the bed and make up some chords to stall until Ronan gets here. I could probably sing about the neighbor’s dog shitting on the grass and this girl would be into it based on the way she tries to sing along and sways.