I felt that same squirming, too full feeling I had at transition, though there was no pain this time. Instead, it felt like a living thing, throbbing, writhing inside me.
“It’s OK,” Johnno said, tipping my head back. “It’s hard the first time, but then it feels good, so good.” And as if conjured by his words, I felt a heavy feeling in my limbs, like afterglow but a thousand times better.
Perhaps it was that lazy, strung out mood that had me turning to Johnno and bringing his face down to mine. It was an expansive, airy thing that just seemed to want to be spread to others. More golden sparks appeared on the ends of my fingers as we kissed and I stroked his hair and back, more still when I pulled his shorts down.
“Kira, it’s OK,” he rasped as I took him in my hand—that thick cock I’d seen him work what felt like a million years ago. He fought me for grip of it, smearing what remained of me along its length to lubricate it, but I pushed him away. What had happened with Marlow made sense. It was sweet and loving, and while I wasn’t sure where we were yet, I knew I’d find out.
This was confusing. The band’s shadow hung heavily over everything. Their reputation, promo materials, songs, all were a barrier between me and them. And it didn’t get any better when I got to know more of them. Seeing them together, the relationships I didn’t understand, the way they ran their world was just so alienating. But right now, I was brimming over with pleasure, a feeling so complete, it couldn’t help but want to be shared. There was nothing petty or grasping about any of it, no matter the bewildering way it came to me. So I touched him like he was precious, like I was honouring all the heat and desire and need I’d seen in him since I really met him. Like we were back in my dream, where there was just me and him, my dream lover. He fought it, the need to say or do something riding him as I swivelled my hand slowly up and down his cock, the veins standing out painfully along the surface.
“It’s OK,” I said, and the words were manifestly inadequate in the face of what had just happened, but it was all I had. He nodded, holding himself rigid in his kneeling position, every muscle straining to keep him still. He did nothing but reach for me, drawing me closer but not letting me disengage, then he placed little glancing kisses on my lips and neck as he got harder, more desperate. He mumbled pleas and vows, promises of every kind as I worked him harder, faster, the golden sparkles now dancing across my knuckles and down his shaft.
“Oh fuck…”
His eyes flicked open, and I saw they’d gone completely metallic gold. I caught one, then two pants, and then he erupted. A long, meandering groan escaped him as he shot all over his stomach, and I pushed him a little harder, a little longer, until his hand snapped down over my wrist.
I jumped when a presence appeared at my back, a hand grabbing mine and smearing it in Johnno’s cum.
“Rub it on your stomach or something,” Liam said. “That and Marlow’s scents will keep the wolves from your door for a little while.”
Johnno nodded when I looked at him questioningly, then he helped me to get the job done as Liam pulled back again.
It was as I laid down, curled in Johnno’s arms, that I realised how I’d been played.
“You can wear some of mine too,” Jake said with a grin, holding his dripping fingers up before Lucas threw him an old t-shirt to clean up the cum on his stomach. He just chuckled as he put himself to rights and then dragged a blanket over him, rolling over to sleep with the ease of a child. Liam smirked, casting an eye over the both of us before doing the same. I’d come into this room not wanting to be here, unsure of where things should go with Johnno or any of them, and now I’d seen blow jobs and hand jobs and been on the giving and receiving end of both. And I was apparently marked by Hartley.
“You OK?” Johnno asked, looking down at me.
Was I? That was a damn good question, but as I looked around the room, I couldn’t bring myself to feel unhappy about anything. My head was spinning, and I wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but as my lids began to droop, I felt a low burning sense of wellbeing.
“Uh huh,” I said, and then dropped off to sleep.
4
“C’mon, girl! It’s time for your first concert!”
Jen, Vervain, and Marlow had turned up at the bus when we pulled into wherever the guys were playing tonight, saw me all squishy faced and sleepy eyed on the massive bed, and just smirked.
“Coffee?” Marlow said, holding out a cup.
“God, I could kiss you. Actually, I think I will.” I made grabby hands at him with my free one, and he crawled onto the bed, giving me a long, sweet kiss. “I’ve missed you.”
“After hanging out in the orgy bed with The Changelings?” he said. “I’m flattered.”
“We could give it a test drive if you liked?”
“No, no, no,” Jen said, holding up a finger. “I’ve been patient. I’ve been nice. But my so called best friend has been drowning in dick since she made a momentous life change…”
Her grin was light, but it was still bloody true, so I gave the coffee to Marlow and launched myself at her, grabbing her in a hug.
“Ah! Wait! This is designer—” she yelped.
“Shut up and take it,” I said, smiling wider when I remembered Liam’s similar attitude in very different circumstances. I pulled back and took a look at her ensemble. It looked like de rigueur rock chick attire of jeans and a skimpy little black top, but I was willing to bet that several weeks of most people’s wages had been spent on it. “Who wears a designer outfit to a concert?”
“I do,” she said with an imperious lift of her nose, then she grinned. “And so do you! You should see what—”
“No.”
“But we—”
“No.”
“Kira, you’re—”
“No.”
“You’ve become awfully fond of that word,” she said, her eyes narrowing theatrically.
“Damn straight, I am. No headaches, no squiggly vision, no skittering sounds, no medication. No routine, Jen. No fucking parcelling up my life into bite-sized pieces of time.”
“Oh, darling…I had no idea that was weighing so heavily on you.” Her soft look swiftly changed to an impish smile. “Well, no more of that! You’re at the epicentre of fae activity—the music business. You’ll meet so many people, have so many experiences! Oh my god, Kira. You have no idea!”
“Looks like I will soon. I need to get my arse into gear. The guys have gone for sound check and all that bullshit.”
“God, yes. Daddy is already asking for photos.”
While he wasn’t paying me, my ‘loan’ of Marlow was dependent on the shared use of the photos I took.
“Alright, well I’ll just chuck on some jeans and—”
Vervain, Marlow, and Jen all moved towards me like some kind of impeccably dressed strike force. “No,” I said again.
“Well, if you’re completely determined to slum it?”
“I am. I’m the photographer, not the heir to Rutherglen. You represent your father, I’m just me.”
“You’re so much more than that,” Jen said, her eyes getting a little misty, which of course meant mine did.