So, while Josiah DeMille crushed me at one point in my life, he also saved me, and that has to mean something.
By the time I’m finishing up the last song in my set, I know Josiah is in the audience. I can’t see him, but I canfeelhis eyes on me. Normally, at these types of shows—or any show, for that matter—I enjoy being on stage. I milk it, wanting it to last forever. But tonight? Well, tonight, I can’t wait to finish the song, leave the stage, and hopefully find Josiah in my room.
The crowd claps and cheers, chanting for more, as we finish up. I wave to the audience, tell them how much I love them, and exit through the left side. My heart is beating a mile a minute as my feet can’t seem to carry me fast enough back to the dressing room. As soon as I have the door closed, I race over to the desk where I keep my phone, pulling it out and sending off a text, my fingers trembling so hard, I’m surprised the message even makes sense.
Me: Meet me in my dressing room. Augustine will show you back here.
I very well could be wrong about Josiah being in the crowd, but I don’t think I am. While I wait, knowing it’ll be at least ten minutes before he’s able to make his way back between the crowd and security, I reach into the drawer on the desk, pulling out the pre-rolled joint I put in there, along with my purple lighter.
Lighting up, I take a slow drag, holding the smoke in my lungs until they whine at me for air. Exhaling the earthy, off-white clouds, I rest my shoulder against the wall as I come down from the high of performing. It’s always the same, no matter how many times I’ve done it. The thrill, the excitement. I love it. I truly feel like this was what I was born to do. Write, record, perform.
Almost ten minutes later on the dot, the sound of knuckles rapping on the door reaches my ears, and my pulse skyrockets. “Come in,” I holler out, taking one last hit before putting it out.
I probably shouldn’t be smoking weed in this dressing room, but what the hell.
The light wooden door pushes open, and my heart skips a beat in my chest as Josiah steps inside, closing it behind him. He rests his back against the door, his heated gray eyes finding mine.
“You were great out there,” he says simply, the sincerity in his tone staggering.
“Thank you.”
Neither of us make any attempt at closing the distance just yet. The air in this small space seems to evaporate, the tension in the room suffocating.
“Your songs,” he croaks out. “They’re about us? About me?”
I nod once, taking a step toward him. “Every last one.” It’s a confession spoken barely above a whisper.
Josiah swallows hard, his throat bobbing. His eyes track me as I continue to stalk my way toward him. He doesn’t move, just watches. My hands go on either side of his head, my arms boxing him in, the sharp inhale of breath the only sign I’m affecting him.
Up until this moment, I’ve been so restrained. So careful. It’s been Josiah making the moves, admitting his desire for me. I’m done with being timid. I’m done ignoring the way my body aches for his. I don’t want to end another night with Josiah with things I’d wish I’d done. I don’t want to go to bed tonight knowing I could’ve made a move, acted on how I feel.
I won’t end tonight denying myself what I truly want, no matter how scary it feels.
Leaning in, my lips beside the shell of his ear, I whisper, “Every time I’m on stage, it’s you on my mind. An endless loop of Josiah.”
His body shudders as my tongue dips out, licking a hot, wet stripe up the column of his neck, the salty taste of his sweat heady and addicting. I press the weight of my body into his, pinning him to the door, my cock already thickening behind my tight black jeans.
Prior to Josiah’s re-entrance into my life, I liked to think my sex drive was pretty low. Granted, I was abstinent, and had fully intended to stay that way, so I wasn’t running into temptation all the time. But even when it came to pleasuring myself, the need wasn’t therethatoften. Now, though? It’s like I’m sixteen all over again. I can’t get enough. I’m hornyallthe time, especially if my eyes are able to see Josiah, and I feel like I may combust if I don’t feel his skin on mine right now.
Josiah turns his head, mouth colliding with mine in a brutal fight for dominance. His tongue thrusts into my mouth, tangling with mine, his taste absolutely divine. He brings his hands to my hips, holding me close to his frame, as if I’d let even an inch of space between us with how he’s kissing me.
My hands leave the door, coming to the back of his neck as my fingers lace through the thick strands. I can’t get enough of him—can’t kiss him deep enough, taste him well enough. I need more, and when he flips us, pinning my back to the wall, and rolls his hips into mine, showing me just how turned on he is, I can’t even help the groan that rumbles from my chest.
“I can’t take it anymore,” Josiah breathes against my throat as he peppers the sensitive flesh with kisses. “I need you.Now,Segan.”
Hungry lips find mine again as his fingers work my belt buckle open, and then the button on my jeans. As soon as my zipper is down, he’s undoing his own. I glance down, watching with lust-drunk eyes as he pulls us out, taking both our cocks in his hand. The feel of his hard, thick length pressed up against my own is unreal.
We’re both so turned on, dripping pre-cum that he gladly uses as lube, slicking our dicks up as he jacks us as one. I reach for his hard, muscular bicep, holding on as I let my head fall back onto the door. His eyes lift, stone gray and heavy, meeting mine. This feels surreal. This is a moment we’ve waited so long for—years—and it’s happening, and I never thought it would. It steals my breath away.
“Kiss me, Josie,” I beg, my voice gruff.
He doesn’t hesitate even a moment, his lips devouring my own before I can take my next breath. I can taste the hunger on his tongue as it swipes along mine, and when I moan into his mouth, he swallows it, tightening his grip on us. My body is thrumming with a desperate need for him, a need unlike anything I’ve ever felt. It’s like Josiah has awoken a beast inside of me I thought I’d buried.
He’s awoken it, and he breathes life into it when he mutters six earth shattering words against my lips. “I want you to fuck me.”
31
JOSIAH
