“Busted,” she said, winking at me. “But it hurt you didn’t it? To hear bad things being said about him?”
“I’d feel uncomfortable hearing bad shit about anyone, Elle.”
“Bollocks. One thing you don’t do, Sawyer Knight, is empathy.”
“Are you saying I’m heartless?” I shot back, jerking my neck to the side in surprise.
“No. I’m saying you don’t let yourself feel.”
“Ah, come on now. This is all getting a bit too philosophical for my taste. What’s next? You want me to fall to my knees and start thanking God for his guidance?”
“Fine. You don’t want my advice? Deal with this shit on your own.” Fuck. She was pouting. Elle is the only woman in the world who can pout like that and make me feel like the biggest jerk on the planet.
“Sorry,” I muttered genuinely, settling back onto the couch beside her and putting my hand on her knee. “Today’s been intense. It went to shit the minute I turned up at that fucking interview.”
Welcoming the subject change, I told Elle all about the interview which Claire, the PR manager from hell, had arranged for me to do solo. Except I don’t really feel that way about Claire, she’s like a mother to me. To all of us. The conversation involved lots of swearing, huffs and eye rolls, but by the end of I felt a lot less agitated and ready to face tomorrow.
“You staying here tonight?” I asked Elle when I heard my bed calling my name.
“Can’t. I’ve got to pack my things for the shoot tomorrow.”
“Oh fuck. I forgot about that.”
I hate photo shoots almost as much as I hate interviews. They involve people, and as a general rule, people piss me off.
“You’re getting so bloody miserable in your old age,” she chided with a playful nudge to the shoulder. “Go and sleep off this foul mood. Then rehearse your arse off in the morning and I’ll see you at the studio in the afternoon.”
“Sure. I’ll call Pete to come take you home.”
“Thanks,” she said as I reached for the phone. I told Pete what I wanted him for and he said he’d be straight round. “Call me in the morning,” Elle said before kissing my cheek, hovering in the doorway as she waited for Pete. “And fucking smile! It doesn’t hurt I promise.”
“Love ya, gorgeous girl.”
“Love ya back, muscle man.”
Pete was at my door within one minute. We were taking up the entire top floor of the hotel and security staff were positioned in rooms in between each band member.
Jake’s room was next to my suite – literally touching it. We probably shared the same walls. Fuck.
I felt the stirrings of an erection before I’d even loosened my robe to look down at myself. Yep, there it was. My rigid cock stared up at me, mocking me, enticing me. “Damn him!” I cussed out loud. This is the response my traitorous body has at the simple knowledge Jake is in the next room.
No.
This had nothing to do with Jake. This was a normal bodily reaction to the fact I hadn’t had any pussy action in several days. As soon as I’d relieved the pressure, any thoughts of Jake would disappear and I could go to sleep.
That’s what I told myself as I flopped back onto the bed, letting my robe fall to the side as I gripped my throbbing cock in my hand. I started with gentle strokes, forcing myself to remember the girl I fucked three nights ago in New York. I didn’t pay much attention to her face, but she had golden hair that spilled over her shoulders, tits so huge Matt said he would be wanking to the memory of them for years to come (he had her the next night), and a pussy so tight I wondered if she’d ever let anyone fuck her before.
Remembering the sight of me entering her from behind had me stroking myself harder. I had my fingers wrapped so tightly around myself it almost hurt, then I yanked them away when the memory of Jake’s hand pressed against my jeans-clad cock, over ten years ago, infiltrated my thoughts. I was too frustrated to stop. I needed this release. I needed to get rid of the sexual tension so I could look at Jake as just my friend.
So, with that in mind, I allowed myself to think of him. Just this once I would let my mind wander to the place I always stopped it from going. I would think of him only until I’d come, and then I would put this inexplicable draw to him away for good.
I ran my thumb over my tip, circling the tender head before smoothing a drop of pre-cum down my shaft, making it glisten beneath the light shining down on me. I let myself remember his kiss as I locked my fingers around my length and started moving them up and down. It was ten years ago, but if I closed my eyes I could still taste him. I could still feel him. I could still smell him.
I imagined him as the man he is now, not as the boy he was then. I pretended he was right here with me, kissing me with the same tender lips I’d experienced just once before. I cupped my balls with my free hand, slowly rolling them between my fingers and imagining it was Jake who was doing it. I groaned at the thought, biting my lip as I imagined him replacing his wandering hands with his tongue.
Strokes turned to rough tugs and my back instinctively arched into the mattress, forcing myself further into my hand. I pumped at the same speed Jake’s mouth was going in my imagination and when tingling heat started building in the base of my spine, I tore my hand from my balls and gripped the sheets, squeezing them as pure pleasure started attacking my body.
My hips bucked, thrusting me faster and harder into the image of Jake’s mouth etched on the back of my eyelids. I saw his blue eyes looking up at me, twinkling with pride and satisfaction. It spurred me on and I tugged harder, moaning into the empty air. I looked past his dark cropped hair and imagined what the muscles on his back would look like as they flexed with the movement of his head bobbing up and down.