I jump at his shout but I’m caught with my back to the counter where his body cages me in. “I’m sorry. No! I didn’t mean that. Don’t worry about me. I can get to work on my own.” I drop my gaze and let loose a shakybreath.
“Hey.” His fingertips graze beneath my chin and he lifts until I meet his gaze. “I do worry. I don’t want you to do this on your own. You’re mine to take care of.” Pain. Anger. Maybe even a little sadness too stings with hiswords.
“Coy. Don’t get upset.” I reach my hand between us so it rests near his heart, but he pullsaway.
“This is fucking bullshit. Stupid job isn’t worth shit.” He grabs his keys and sunglasses from the far corner of the counter. He turns back to me with a glare. “I’m auditioning for one of the hottest bands in the rock world but we’re fighting about how you’re gonna find a way to wash hair and sweepfloors.”
“I like my job.” It’s mine. I almost let the words slip through, but don’t because I know how much that’ll only stress him out more. He has every right to be, too. I don’t have any skills. I’m not educated. It’s difficult for me to keep a job; hell, I don’t even know how to drive, but he’s nevercomplained.
He points at me, his lips mashing together with his scowl. “I get this fucking gig and you’re quitting. Fuck, this is stressing me out!” He looksaway.
“Hey, don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. Together.” I walk to him, hold his stare, and this time I brush my hands up the length of his arms until I can knead his shoulders and the stress coiled in his muscles there. “How about I come with you? I can wait outside. That way I can be there for you the second it’sover.”
“You don’t want to wait outside some studio in Burbank. It could be hours.” He sighs, but closes his eyes and lets loose a groan as I work my fingers closer to hisneck.
“You’re important to me,” Iwhisper.
“You mean that?” His eyes snap open to meet mystare.
“Of course I do. I want the world for you. You deserve this. You’ve worked so hard.” The words are almost a plea. Not just for him, but the universe. After everything we’ve been through, we deserve abreak.
His throat moves when he swallows. “I won’t let youdown.”
“You never do.” Running my hands over his shoulders, I trace the inked skin that hides beneath the surface of his T-shirt. He’s beautiful. The kind of man women can’t help but admire when we walk down the street together, with no regard to the fact his hand holds mine. I understand it, too. It’s the same magnetism that pulled me in when we first met. “You’re so tight.” I stretch up on the tips of my toes to kiss along the soft skin at the base of his throat until I meet the scruff of his cheek. I relish in the momentary feeling of control that comes over me when goosebumps cover hisflesh.
“I’m freaking out, babe.” He groans, his head falling to rest on my shoulder as my thumbs and forefingers slide back up to work the knots at the base of his neck. “What if I fuck thisup?”
“You won’t. They’ll love you. You’ve gotthis.”
He groans again and this time it’s a sound that goes straight between my thighs. He’s wound so tightly today and I know it’s all the pressure. We barely make rent. He shoulders all the responsibility. This kind of opportunity changes all of this. My fingers dig into his flesh in firm circles, and every time he groans with pleasure my own body tightens withneed.
“Keep that up and my dick’s gonna need those fingersnext.”
“I can—” Trailing the palm of my hand between our bodies, I find my way to his strong chest, then lower over his abs until my fingers are at the buckle of hisjeans.
“We don’t have time.” He groans but his hands don’t move to stop me. He likes it when I show him how much I want him. He needs this release. We really don’t have time, but it’ll only take a few minutes to get himoff.
“There’s always time for this.” I kiss him and whisper into his ear before I drop to my knees. He leans back against the counter so my face lines up with the bulge pushing at the front of hisjeans.
“You’re a dirty cunt for me, aren’t you? This what you want?” He holds my face in hishands.
I hate it when he calls me that, but it gets him off. Dirty talk and name calling turn him on so I nod and work open his pants so I can pull him out. Stroking his hardness in both hands, my eyes stay on his as I openwide.
He guides my mouth over him, his hands moving from my face to my hair to dictate the pace. His eyes stay on mine and his breath comes faster as I stroke him at the base while my lips wrap tightly around hiserection.
“That’s right. Suck me. Fucking suck me off like the little whore you are. My little whore.” He takes total control. His fingers dig into my scalp, and he demands and steals from me what he needs to reach his climax. With tears streaking my cheeks and his cock so far down my throat I can barely breathe, I play the part. I’ll give him whatever heneeds.
As soon as Coy comes in my mouth, our little tryst is over. I’m back on my feet and left to get ready while he goes through his somewhat superstitious routine. YouTube clip of the Chili Peppers all the way through an extended version of Californication, then brushing his teeth and rinsing mouthwash before he’s back to the practice pads. He goes through the same exact motions before every big audition or performance. I stay out of his way and quickly apply my makeup, straighten my hair, and tug on my work approved ensemble: black blouse, black jeans, and black heeledboots.
“Don’t make me late!” he calls from the front room, tapping along to a Hendrix tune with his practice sticks andpad.
“I’m ready!” I scoop my jewelry from the counter and grab my purse on my wayout.
Coy shoves off the couch, looking every bit the talented rock star he’s meant to be, and for probably the thousandth time since I met him I wonder what I did to deserve his affection. “Let’s go, then!” He shoves his sticks in his back pocket and holds thedoor.
I hustle to keep up with his long strides as I fasten my earrings with one hand and grip my necklace with the other. They’re costume, probably not even worth the five bucks I paid the consignment store I found them in, but they’re shiny, and beautiful, and I feel pretty when I wearthem.
If Coy notices my new jewelry, he doesn’t say a word. His brow is frozen in a perpetual frown as he starts the car engine and cranks the wheel. He’s nervous. This is just how he gets, and I pull out my cell phone to glance at the time, nervous I’ve made himlate.
