High Read online

  His hair is damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead, just like his sweaty t-shirt is sticking to his body in all the right places.

  “Hey.” He gives me the obligatory chin lift and then proceeds to shove his tongue down my bestie’s throat. And that’s my cue to leave.

  Rock music blasts around the back stage area. Various people are scattered over sofas, leaning against the bar, but wherever you look, there are half naked girls. I get a double vodka from the bar and pop a couple of pills, necking my drink with them.

  “My kind of girl.” I turn around and come face to face with the bassist.

  “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

  He smirks, stepping into my personal space. “I’m Rush Wilder, you sweet thing. Everyone knows me.”

  “You or your dick?”

  “Well.” He laughs. “You’re welcome to get acquainted. Cushion?” He holds out a cushion with the band logo on it. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt your knees.”

  I laugh, and for some reason, I like him. He’s shameless, and shameless is my language. “See how drunk you can get me, and ask me again.” I tease.

  I’ve completely lost track of where I am or why. All I know is I’m in a hotel suite, and there are lots of people here. Everything is trashed, furniture is overturned, lamps and glasses smashed on the floor, and I’ve never seen so much blow, pills and booze in one place in my life. In the middle of the room is a glass coffee table and in the centre is a glass fruit bowl with a block, not a bag—a block of coke in it. Now this is a party.

  I may have inhaled a fair amount of said block because it’s free, why not? Music blares around the room, and I’m dancing, my hips swaying to the beat as I throw my head back.

  The girl dancing with me laughs, tossing her purple hair over her shoulder. Her black dress has diamond shaped holes cut out of it, showing her tanned skin. She runs her hands over her body as she moves, and she’s beautiful. Everything about her is sensual, confident, perfect. She moves closer to me, running her hands over my stomach and her fingertips set my skin on fire. I glance down as her black painted nails lightly trail over my body, and…I’m in my bra. Where did my top go? She steps closer, pressing her body against mine, and dropping her face to my neck, kissing me gently, her lips are barely a whisper against my skin, but it feels so good. I’m too hot, too sensitive, too much. I tilt my head to the side, allowing her more access, and then I spot Rush, leaning against the back of a sofa watching us, with a smile on his face. He has a look in his eye that makes me lean into her kiss and thread my fingers through her hair. I am completely in the moment, ruled by sensation and instinct alone. There is no thought, just feeling. So when she lifts her face from my neck and presses her lips to mine, I kiss her back. I kiss her because she feels good. Her lips are soft and she tastes of vodka and cranberry.

  Goose bumps prickle my skin as she sweeps her fingers over my shoulder, sliding my bra strap down.

  “Let’s go.” She whispers against my lips, and I let her take my hand. She leads me to a bathroom and closes the door. I let her kiss me and touch me, and I like it, I want more. She shoves my bra straps down and then the cups until my boobs are pushed up and on display. She sucks one nipple and then the other, grazing over the sensitive skin with her teeth. Her touch is gentle, sensual, attentive. I’ve never been with a girl before, but now, I wonder why. Her lips skim down my body until she’s crouched in front of me. She smiles, her teeth so white against her red lipstick.

  “What’s your name?” She asks in a southern accent as she slowly drags my lace thong down my legs until I step out of them.

  “Blake.” My voice is thick, husky, laced with sex.

  She slowly rises again, brushing my hair away from my face. “I’m Stevie, you’re beautiful Blake.”

  I nod and she smiles again, pushing me back until my legs bump the toilet. “Sit.” She says, patting the top.

  My head spins. It’s like I’m not really here. I do as she says, sitting on top of the toilet. She grips both my thighs as she leans over me, nipping at my bottom lip. I’m so hot. I press my back to the tile, relishing in the coolness. My heart hammers against my ribs as the room starts to spin. I’m vaguely aware of her pushing my thighs apart, and then her lips are on the inside of my thigh, moving, up, up, until her tongue brushes my clit, sending little tremors skittering over my body. My back bows away from the wall and my fingers find her hair, teasing through the soft strands.

  The music outside the room grows louder and then quiets again. When I glance up away from the back of Stevie’s head, I see Rush, standing, watching. My eyes lock with his, and all I can see is pure, raging lust. He’s going to watch her fuck me, and that’s hot.

  My eyes never leave his as Stevie spears me with her tongue, making my mouth drop open in a silent moan. Rush groans, biting his bottom lip until his lip piercing clicks against his teeth. She turns and glances at him for a split second before going straight back to what she was doing.

  He yanks his belt open, shoving his jeans and boxers down like they’re on fire. My eyes drop to his cock—his big, pierced cock. He fists it, stroking over the skin violently.

  Stevie forces my thighs further apart, flicking her tongue over me until I’m rolling my hips and gripping her hair, riding her face shamelessly.

  “Fuck!” Rush growls, stepping up behind her and ripping her dress up until it’s around her waist. My own breathy moans intertwine with the sound of material tearing before he grabs her hips and slams into her. Letting out a long groan, her nails sink into my thighs. as she lets out a long groan. I whimper as her hot breath blows over me, causing me to whimper, and then she’s licking, sucking kissing me frantically, whilst Rush pounds into her. His eyes hold mine the entire time. I watch him fuck her and he watches her fuck me. It’s so fucking dirty. Every time he thrusts inside her, he pushes her against me more and her nails dig into me harder..

  “Fuck. Come for me, babe.” He growls pounding into her harder, but it’s not her he’s talking to. The harder he fucks her, the harder her tongue is fucking me, until I fall apart, shattering. I scream as my entire body tenses and then explodes outwards. The orgasm seems to go on forever, that much more intense thanks to the blow. I watch as Rush snarls like a feral animal and then stiffens, thrusting into Stevie and gripping her hips on a roar.

  I lean my head back against the bathroom tile, trying to catch my breath as my pulse hammers in my ears. I don’t know what just happened, but it was really fucking good. I climb off the back of the toilet while Stevie rearranges her dress. Rush leans against the vanity, dick still hanging out as he lights a cigarette. I find my thong and hot pants and put them back on before putting my tits away. I still have no idea where my top is, but fuck it. I glance up at Rush and he’s watching me, a wry smile on his lips as he exhales smoke through his nose.

  Stevie places a quick kiss on my cheek and leaves without a word. And then it’s just him and me, in a bathroom together. Me, with my bra on, and him with his dick still out, still hard, and that piercing glinting under the bright bathroom lights.

  Moving closer to him, I take the cigarette from his fingers, press it to my lips and inhale. His eyes drop to my lips, and as I pull the cigarette away from my mouth, he grabs my waist, yanking me close to him. His lips touch mine, but he doesn’t kiss me. I make no move to touch him as my eyes flick between his mouth and his eyes.

  I should step away because he’s a rock star, and as much of a slut as I am, even I don’t like herpes. Usually, I would, I should, and yet something about him makes me want him.

  “Cushion?” He breathes against my lips. “I’ll even let you snort a line off my dick.”

  Well now, there’s an offer I can’t resist.

  I wake up and roll over wincing when something hard and very uncomfortable presses against my spine. I reach underneath me and pull out a ball—a pool ball, because, yep, I’m on a pool table. I sit up slowly, squinting as I glance around me. The pool table is littered with
used Jonny’s. I don’t know what day or time it is. I’ve lost track. All I know is that I’ve been in a non-stop cycle of booze, blow, and Rush for days now. Rush is passed out next to me, his dick still hanging out…standard protocol for him. What the fuck? Oh, God…no. I reach up, pulling a sticky condom away from my cheek. I grimace as I remove another one from the back of my thigh. That’s fucking gross.

  I slide off the table and stagger through the suite because I really need to piss. Bodies are everywhere, and when I push the bathroom door open, there are two more people in here. One passed out in the bath, the other asleep with their cheek pressed against the toilet seat. Gross. I shove him with my foot and he falls to the side, smacking his head on the tile. He doesn’t even wake up. I piss and wash my hands, glancing in the mirror at my reflection. God, I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I don’t think I’ve washed. I’m wearing an over sized band t-shirt, nothing else, and there are thick, scabbed over claw lines down my thighs.

  My hands shake as I dry them. I can feel the imminent come down just waiting to hit and drag me into the depths of hell. I take a few lines at a party for fun. I like it, it makes me feel good, it makes life more fun. This rock star shit, though, it’s like taking a kid to a candy store and turning them loose. No one can take that much coke for several days and just go cold turkey afterwards. I need a line. Just a small line.

  My eyes roam over the carnage as I move through the suite looking for a baggie. Any fucking baggie. The longer I look, the more violent the shakes become, until they’re nearly convulsions. I catch movement to the left and spot the lead singer coming out of one of the bedrooms. His eyes skirt over me and fix on my face, narrowing. Wordlessly he walks up to me, shoves his hand in his pocket then hands me a tiny bag of white powder and a twenty-dollar note.

  “Chase the fucking dragon, princess.” And then he just walks away.

  I rush to the coffee table, pouring out a messy line and snorting it. I fall back against the sofa, the cool wooden floor biting into the backs of my thighs.

  The coke kicks in and pulls my brain back into sync, calming my convulsions. I slowly open my eyes, mortified at what I see. Right there, in the middle of the coffee table, at eye fucking level is a human shit. Someone took a fucking shit on the coffee table.

  I guess there are moments in life that make you re-evaluate yourself. This is one of them. Maybe it’s the fact that I just snorted a line off that table only feet from said offending shit, or maybe it’s just the concept that I have lowered myself to socialising with people who would take a shit on a table. I mean, it’s not like I have high standards for these things, but a human shit? A. Shit.

  I’m done.

  I need to go home.

  When I wake up, I have no clue where the fuck I am. It takes me a second to catch up. Milly’s flat. London. I glance at my phone and it’s one in the morning. Fucking hell. Jet lag is a bitch, and to top it off I’m on the most horrific come down of all time. Apparently that was a three-day non-stop party before the turd incident, and the sudden lack of drugs has hit me hard. Everything just seems shit, not helped by a severe lack of sleep and my body clock being shot to shit.

  I pick up my phone and a text flashes on the screen.

  Felix: Yo bitch! I hear you’re back. Come see me ASAP. Xx

  I lay back against the pillows but this shitty feeling will not leave. If there is one thing I don’t do, it’s come downs. Fuck this shit.

  I throw my legs over the side of the bed and go to the bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Fuck, I look like something that just fell out of a dying animals prolapsed bowel. I splash cold water on my face and drag my fingers through my hair in an attempt to disrupt the birds nest. I jump when I catch sight of something in the mirror and whirl around to catch a tiny furry bum nip around the corner of the door frame. What the fuck? Is that a hamster? I go after it, but when I poke my head around the door, it’s gone. Okay, way too many drugs. Apparently I’m now hallucinating.

  God, I need to see Felix. I open the wardrobe, pulling out random items of clothing because almost everything I usually wear is in my suitcase and I can’t be bothered to unpack. I pull out a pair of leather trousers that were sent to me by some designer to wear. I yank them on, as well as a turtle neck that stops just short of my belly button. Shoving my feet into a pair of heels, I grab my bag and keys then head for the door. A quick glance in the mirror in the hallway tells me that I vaguely resemble a high end hooker—a zombie hooker.

  I pull into the parking lot of Red, Felix’s club, and spot his Range Rover parked right by the back door. Paul is on the door tonight, and his face breaks into a brilliant smile when he sees me.

  “Hey, baby girl.” His white smile stands out against his ebony skin. I smile back, despite my awful mood.

  “Hey you.” I say as he hugs me and wraps his thick arms around my waist. “I have to see Felix real quick, but I’ll be out in a bit.” I assure him. I need some blow, right fucking now, more like.

  He pulls back, scanning my face with a knowing eye. To anyone who knows, it’s not hard to see my suffering.

  I cut through the club, the music throbbing and pulsing around me. The punters sit in shadowed booths, watching the dancers move, their bodies twisting erotically on the stages. Red is a strip bar, but there are no poles. These girls are employed because they turn sex into an art. Felix is a genius at making money, and this place makes a fucking fortune. Wealthy guys like to pretend they’re more sophisticated than the average Joe in a strip bar, but really, all they’re doing is spending more money to see less skin. These girls don’t do extra—actually, that’s a lie. I know Lila once gave a guy a blowie for ten grand, but that kind of money will bring most girls to their knees. Hell, I know straight guys who would suck a cock for that money.

  I head for the door at the back and type in the security code: 1234. It clicks open immediately and my lips pull into a smile. Bloody Felix.

  The music mutes to a low hum when the door closes behind me. I don’t even knock on the door to Felix’s office, I just push it open.

  He looks up with a frown on his face until he sees who it is, and then his steely mask breaks into a wide smile. Felix always was the hot guy that all the girls wanted to bang. But he was too busy hanging around with Milly and me, and fucking girls five years older than him to bother with them. He inherited the chestnut hair and the laughing green eyes from his Irish father. No matter what, Felix always looks like he’s up to something.

  “Fuck me!” He stands up and closes the distance between us, wrapping his arms around me tightly and lifting me off my feet. Milly is my best friend, but Felix is like a brother, well, except that one time, when I lost my virginity to him, but we don’t talk about that. Ever.

  Putting me down, he steps back, and his eyes meet mine. “You look like shit.” His eyebrows drop into a frown as he studies my face.

  I roll my eyes. “Nice to see you too dickhead, but yes, I look like shit. It’s actually Milly’s fault this time. She wanted to fuck this rock star, so we partied with them for three days straight. I thought I was a party girl, but damn.” I shake my head. “There was a hot chick called Stevie, a pierced cock, a hot threesome, and a human turd involved—not all at the same time I might add—and now here I am, strung out to fuck and bringing a whole new meaning to Tragic Tuesday.” I smile at him but he doesn’t return it.

  Felix deals for fucks sake but the moment this shit starts to get messy is the moment he’s all judgy. I know right now I look like a junkie, strung out, crashing and burning, in need of the next high. I’m not. These are just extenuating circumstances. His eyes flick over my shoulder before I hear a throat clear. I whirl around to face the person that has clearly been here the entire time, watching my tirade.

  “Blake, this is Rhett Torres, a friend of mine.” Felix introduces me.

  My eyes work up a broad chest, straining against the material of his shirt before I meet his gold eyes—eyes so distincti
ve I could never forget them.

  “You have got to be shitting me.” I groan. I can’t deal with this crap right now.

  His lips kick up at the sides slightly and an infuriatingly sexy smirk makes an appearance. I’m tired, coming down, and grumpy as shit, but that smirk has my insides clenching and my skin breaking out in goose bumps.

  “Wait, you know each other?” Felix is frowning, his gaze flicking between Rhett and I. God, even his name is sexy as fuck.

  “We’ve met.” Rhett says at the same time as I blurt. “We fucked.” And Felix laughs.

  Rhett’s gaze swings to mine and he cocks an eyebrow. “Eloquent.”

  “Yeah, that’s Blake.” Felix laughs. My patience is wearing thin, and I turn my back on the walking sex icon behind me. I can feel Felix’s eyes burning a hole into my back.

  “Felix, I need to go. Do you want my money or not?”

  He sighs. “Wait here.”

  Blake? Huh, I was sure she’d be called Elizabeth or some shit.

  Fuck me though, her ass looks good in those pants. She looks like she just rolled out of a drug den, but I’d still bend her over that fucking desk.

  Felix leaves the room, and she moves around the desk, her hips swaying before she drops into the chair and props her long legs on the desk. She takes a cigarette out and places it to her lips.

  “You got a light?”

  I push off the wall, and take the silver lighter from my inside pocket, flipping the lid and leaning over the desk. Her eyes lock with mine as she inhales, making the end of the cigarette glow.

  “Well, I didn’t expect to see you in London.” She says, blowing a stream of smoke into the air. “Business or pleasure?” She teases the word, and her lips pull into a playful smile.

  “Both.”

  “Huh? Well, let me know if you need any help with that.” She drags her eyes over my body, those mismatched green and brown irises flashing. Her full lips pull up into a sensual smirk as she cocks an eyebrow. She’s like a walking challenge, defiance and sensuality rolling off her in waves. She’s…refreshing.