I look up at Liam. “Is it always that intense?”
“Well, I don’t like to brag.” He chuckles, and I reach for a pillow and throw it at him.
He catches it and drops it to the floor before climbing back into bed beside me. He pulls me into his arms and settles me against his chest. His breathing is still fast as he recovers from his own release.
“Did I bleed again?” I question, suddenly worried whether we should change the sheets.
“No, but you are going to be a little sore. We’ll sleep for a while, and then I’ll show you a different position with you on top. I can get deeper inside you like that, and your orgasm will be even better. Plus I get to see your tits bounce with you above me.”
“Me on top?” I gasp and turn to face him.
“Don’t worry. Trust me.” Liam smirks and winks at me.
“Always.” I lay my head back down on his chest and listen to the beat of his heart as it slows.
I may not remember my first time with Liam, but I’ll certainly remember this time and every time in the future. I never want this to end. I’ve found where I should be. All I can hope is it’ll never be taken away from me.
Chapter 17
Liam
#SometimesIHateThePress
“You’re going to need to keep your head down for the day.” Zoey hands me her phone, and I look at it as Yivi and I sit with her and Tate, having breakfast on the bus.
We’re on our way to Houston for our next concert. Cameron and Austin are still in bed after playing computer games until the early hours.
“Fuck! How did anyone get a photo of that? We were backstage!” I exclaim, furious at seeing a picture of me sending a fist flying into my brother’s face.
The incident has made the news headlines for the day…it’s a textbook punch, though, so I’m pretty proud of that.
“You know people get pictures of us everywhere now. Remember Cameron and the picture of his dick that’s on the internet. He was in the fucking shower. It wasn’t even taken by a woman he slept with,” Tate says with his mouth full of toast.
As if hearing his name makes him magically appear, Cameron stumbles in still half asleep.
“Why are we talking about my dick? I know it’s a work of art, but still. Isn’t it a little bit early in the morning? I need coffee first.”
The lead guitarist steals a piece of toast from Zoey’s plate. She tried to swipe it back but is too slow, and Cameron munches on it as he wanders over to the coffee machine.
“We aren’t talking about your dick,” Tate grumbles. “I don’t need to go anywhere that walking STD apparatus.”
“Fuck you.” Cameron flips his friend off. “What are you talking about, then?”
“Liam is in the headlines for punching his brother.”
“What?” Yivi, who’s been reading an article for her high school diploma while eating her toast, looks up from the document. I hand her Zoey’s phone, and seeing the picture, she starts to read the article, her face turning white as a sheet as she does.
It makes me angry. We’ve been living in bliss since we slept together, and I don’t want Yivi getting stressed or upset again.
“Fudgecakes!” Yivi exclaims. Even though my brother has encouraged her to swear once or twice, she doesn’t feel comfortable doing it and has resorted to using alternative words instead. I find it endearing as it’s completely her. “It mentions the fight being over a woman. Thankfully, you can’t see me in the picture. Is this really bad news? Will you have to talk to the press and let them know everything is all right, and it’s a misunderstanding?”
“I’ll prepare a statement, letting them know it wasn’t anything serious, in spite of the fact you can see blood flying out of Gabe’s nose.” Zoey reaches out for her phone, and Yivi gives it back to her. “It should be fine. It’s just more work, but I wouldn’t have you guys any other way.”
“I’ll give you a problem to work on tomorrow.” Cameron chuckles. “I feel as though I’ve been too much of a good boy lately. How do you think an orgy will go down with the press? I’m totally up for that if it’ll give you lots of work to do. It’s the least I can do for my best mate’s girl.”
Tate raises an eyebrow at Cameron. “You even try, and I’ll make sure your dick doesn’t work ever again.”
Cameron immediately grabs his manhood. “You wouldn’t dare?”
Tate smirks. “Try me. And afterward, you’ll have to listen to what a real dick can do when I fuck Zoey hard every night.”
Cameron scratches his balls before he returns to his coffee and mutters, “Monogamy is for losers.”
“He’ll be so screwed when it happens to him,” Zoey says to Yivi, and they both laugh together.
“What time are we due at the venue in Houston?” Cameron changes the conversation.
“A couple of hours I think,” I respond.
I’m not entirely sure, but I know it won’t be long. It’s probably a bit of a geeky thing to do, something more attuned to Austin and his crazy technological skills, but I like to use Google to check out the journey so I know where I’m going. It’s something I keep to myself, though.
“Time for a shower and another nap.” Cameron pushes away from the kitchen units and pads back toward the sleeping quarters. “Later, losers.”
We all shake our heads.
“Nice to see he’s in good form. It’ll be a great concert tonight if he brings his banter A game,” Tate says as he puts his arm around Zoey.
“I better spend the rest of the journey practicing my insults. I’ve been with Yivi too much and keep getting the urge to say fudgecakes instead of fuck. Not sure that’ll go down too well on stage.” I shake my head in embarrassment. It’s cute, just not in front of thousands of fans.
“Oh please do, and we’ll rip the shit…sorry! sugar, honey, iced tea out of you.”
“Fuck off!” I flip Tate off before sliding from my seat and heading toward the back of the bus.
Cameron is already in the shower when I get there, so I go into the large room at the back of the bus to search out some clean clothes. For the first time on tour, this area is actually organized. The girls, of course, have used the limited wardrobe space to hang up their clothes, but I’ve at least folded a couple of t-shirts and put them neatly on a shelf.
In the past, we just kept everything in suitcases, and when we needed a change of clothes, we’d pull something out and sniff it to see if it was clean. Once a week, we used to hand the dirty clothes to someone and have clean replacements brought to us. Zoey has put a linen bag in the room, and she makes sure our clothes are cleaned at each stop. I must admit it’s nice not to come back here and be overpowered by the smell of sweaty men and farts.
I find the t-shirt I want and a clean pair of underwear, and I’m about to go and shout at Cameron to hurry up in the shower when Yivi appears at the door. I can tell she’s nervous by the way she nibbles on the tip of a manicured finger.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as I sit down on the bed we slept in last night—as per the rota we share with Zoey and Tate.