#and justin snores which okay was always a problem for me but now also I am a couple of months used to not hearing it

[blujayonthewing]

waoh boy I love to sleep in my bed in my bedroom with my husband and just simply not actually sleep even a little bit because my body is hurts

[13-reasons-ideas]

Can’t Go Back Part 14

Montgomery and I were curled up in my bed one Friday night watching The Mortal Instruments. We paid attention to most of it but there were definitely some parts we missed. Damn is he a good kisser. We missed the credits starting. “That was good.” Monty muttered as he pulled away from me.

“Very.” I agreed, though I don’t know if we meant the movie or the rather intense make out session. “I think the book is still better though.”

“I think they could have slowed down the pace some. It seemed a little rushed.”

“Okay fair, but I don’t see how that would make a difference. The book is still better than the movie. They cut out so much stuff.”

“How much could they have cut Addison?” I raised my brow and got up from my bed. I grabbed the book from my shelf and tossed it at him.

“Ow. That hurt you know.”

“No wonder we lose so much. None of you know how to catch things.” I joked.

“Is that a dig Doll?” he smirked and stood.

“Maybe. What are you going to do about it, Casanova?”

“I can think of a thing or two.” He shook his head and leaned down to kiss me. Pulling me closer, we fell back onto my bed and rolled around. His kisses quieted my giggles in case my parents heard us and came to check on me.

“Addy?” a voice called. We froze. My eyes went to my door on instinct. “Addy.” Not the door. Too quiet to be the door. “Are you awake?” The whisper call came once again. Monty and I immediately turned to the window, alarmed. Justin. I climbed off my bed and pulled my shirt off. Sneaking towards my window, I opened it and stuck my head out a bit. Not enough for Justin to see anything, but enough for him to hear me.

“Just a minute, I’m getting dressed.” I shut it again and turned back to Monty. “Hide! You need to hide.” Monty spread his arms wide, motioning around the room. He was clearly freaking out.

“No shit. Where?”

I motioned to my closet. “In there. Quickly. And stay quiet.” I messed up my hair some more as he dove for my closet and shut the door. One look in the mirror showed me how red I was. Oh well. Hopefully he’s not in the mood to chat. Opening the window, I waved him up. He tossed his bag on my previously occupied bed.

“Thanks. Mom is on another bender.” I squeezed him tightly and stepped back.

“Sorry, I was watching a movie and I must have fallen asleep.” Justin sat on my bed and I tried to keep my eyes from widening. Lying is so much easier when he’s not hiding in my closet. “So you can stay here tonight, but you have to stay in the guest room.”

My best friend rose his brow at me, suspiciously. “Uh. Okay, why? I’ve never had to before.”

“Because my dad has decided to give a shit this week?” I shrugged. “He thinks you could get me pregnant or something. You know, with all the sex we don’t have.” Justin shrugged understandingly. Thank God.

I took him to the guest room and get him all tucked into bed. I climbed onto the bed beside him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what? The fact that my mother is an addict? Or the fact that I have to come hide out at my best friend’s house every other week?”

“Any of it, Justin. You don’t deserve to deal with all of this.”

“I know that Addy. I don’t have much choice though. She’s my mom.” The crack in his voice and his eyes filled with tears, broke my heart.

I nodded and pulled the broken boy in front of me into my lap. “You know I’m always here for you. No matter what. We don’t have to talk anymore, okay?” He nodded against my lap. I pet his hair in a sad attempt to soothe him. We sat like that for a while until I knew he was asleep. The quiet snoring told me everything I needed to know about his evening. I kissed his forehead and went back to my room. Leaning against the door and sighing deeply, I was startled to find Monty lounging on my bed.

“You came back.”

“Yeah.”

“Gone a while.”

“Yeah.” It’s my house. I can be gone as long as I want.

“Everything good?”

“I guess.” I shrugged. “Just Amber being Amber. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

“He really does stay here then?”

“Yeah. Was it not clear before?”

“It was. I just didn’t realize you would let him in if you had company.” I blinked at him. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the book that was still sitting on my bed, along with my laptop. Once they were on my desk I climbed into bed beside him.

“I’m not doing this at this hour. And we need to be quiet. So good night Monty.”

He scoffed. “Night Addison.” Monty was gone when I woke up.

We didn’t text the rest of the weekend and things were still tense between us at school on Monday. We basically ignored each other in the halls. Usually. we at least nodded to each other discreetly or I acknowledged his existence when I was roped into a conversation with Justin’s friends. In the middle of chemistry, he sent me a text. Are your parents going to be home after school?

Not for a while. Why?

Talk?

Fine. I rolled my eyes and slid my phone back in my bag. I furrowed my brow at the problem on the board and its ‘solved’ counterpart. I rose my hand. “Miss uh… Hawthorne?”

“The equation actually balances to 1H10Si10O15+30HCl, not 2H10Si10O15+30HCl2.” Our substitute looked frazzled at my correction. She turned around and went over the equation again.

“Yes, it seems you are correct. Thank you.” I smiled and nodded awkwardly. A few kids chuckled.

I beat my boyfriend to my house and made a coffee. The jiggle of the doorknob brought me out of my stewing. Monty walked in and watched me expectantly. “What.”

“You know what.”

“Justin? Really?”

“Yes Justin.”

“You’re mad that Justin came over on Friday night?”

“We were hanging out. I assumed that meant you wouldn’t just invite him in.”

I scoffed. “And what would you have had me do instead? Tell him to spend the night on the street or with Bryce?”

“I don’t see why he couldn’t stay at Bryce’s.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You think I haven’t figured out that you crash here when you fight with your dad?” His eyes darkened a shade, but he didn’t respond.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Sure. We can talk about that later.”

“Or we can not.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion. Since apparently you have an issue with Justin now, we have to deal with it because he isn’t going anywhere.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t. Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“K.” He scoffed.

“Amber is an addict. She’s not picky. When her boyfriend is in town, its meth. Other times its whatever she can scrape the money up for. So, he comes here when he doesn’t want to deal with it. Or when she’s too far gone to recognize him. Because he knows he’s safe here. How safe is he at Bryce’s place Monty?”

“Safe enough.”

“That’s crap and you can’t deny it.”

“Whatever Addy. I was under the impression that us time was us time but if Justin needs to be involved, you think we have a very different relationship than we do.”

“He’s not involved. And he will never be involved in the way you’re implying. He is my best friend Monty.”

“Sure. Friends.”

“Seriously? I’ve already told you that we are and have only ever been friends.”

“You were gone over an hour. A lot can happen in an hour.” Barf.

“If I was going to cheat on you with anyone, do you really think I would be stupid enough to do it while you are in my bedroom waiting for me? Also, as I’ve said many, many times, Justin and I are nothing more than friends.”

“Then what were you doing Addison?”

“We were talking. I was waiting for him to fall asleep. I always wait for him to fall asleep.”

“Still doesn’t explain why he couldn’t go spend the night at Bryce’s.”

“He’s done it before. And Bryce’s solution is to get him drunk or high so that he doesn’t have to deal with his problems.”

“Doesn’t sound like that bad of a way to deal with it.”

“You’re kidding, right? Justin dealing with his mom who’s high out of her mind by getting high is… not bad?” I blinked at him.

“On occasion no.”

“You… no. I’ve had to go pick him up from Bryce’s place. Trust me when I tell you it’s not pretty. So, to avoid that, he comes here.”

“Is this how it’s going to be?”

His question caught me off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Am I going to come second to Justin?”

“You… you don’t come second to him Monty. He’s been my best friend since I was a little kid. We need each other. And yes, sometimes that means he will need me while you and I are together. But I can’t just abandon him. You’ve been my boyfriend for all of three months. I’m not going to be that girl that just forgets about all the other relationships in my life because I have a boyfriend. A boyfriend I can’t tell anyone about, might I add. Which I’m completely okay with for now by the way. And as much as I don’t like him, Bryce and I are the only real constants in his life. He’s family.”

“Fine. I just didn’t realize how close you two are. It’s not exactly the easiest thing to deal with when your girlfriend basically has a second boyfriend.”

“You knew we were close going into this.”

“Yeah, I know. But that isn’t the point. I don’t want to be second to Justin Foley.”

“You aren’t. Justin is my best friend. He is the closest thing I have to a brother. He is going to be around. You are just going to have to deal with that. I’m not going to fight you on him.”

“Fine. I’ll try.”

“Thank you.”

“Bryce’s place is still an option though.”

“It is for you too.”

“I’m not doing this now Addison.”

“You want to sit here and complain about Justin showing up in the middle of the night like you haven’t been doing it since we started dating.”

“That’s low Addy.”

“Am I wrong Montgomery?”

“No but that’s low.”

“You think I haven’t noticed the bruises?”

“I’m not doing this Addison. Not now.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to. I’m not in the mood to discuss this.”

“But discussing Justin was fine. Whatever. And don’t try to say its two different things because it’s not.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“I get that you’re upset and stuff and that’s fine. But you don’t get to sit here and act like you don’t do the same thing. That’s not fair.”

“Okay.” I realized he wasn’t going to budge on the topic.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

[artificialqueens]

Hypnotized Ch.2 (Trixya)

AN- Thank you guys for the super-duper nice response I got from chapter one. This one is from Katya’s POV, and I decided to skip calling them ‘Brian and Brian’ just for the sake of not confusing myself, haha. Also, TW- Mentions of drug addiction and thoughts of weight loss. I think that’s it. Please excuse me if I missed anything. Happy readings, my doves!

Katya wondered whether or not he would ever have those feelings of wanting to ‘jump on pink clouds and shit diamonds’, or, what saner people than himself would describe as love. He had never been in a serious relationship with anyone, unless you counted the girlfriends he had before he was officially out of the closet. He loved them dearly, but even then, if you were to disregard the fact that he wasn’t really into women – he still felt a sense of wanting to get away whenever someone would get too close to him. That had coloured the rest of his dating life in the aspect of him only getting laid on occasion, but never meeting a solid boyfriend.

He had endured several conversations with his mother on why that was, because all she really wanted for him was to find someone that could carry him forward when he didn’t have the strength to do it for himself. Where he saw opportunities to live his life on his own premises, she saw bitter loneliness. When he laid in bed, really having to get up to meet Alaska in approximately two hours, he stayed under his sheets – trying to find an answer as to why he had functioned the way that he had for his entire adult life. He guessed that his depression and social anxiety had always played a big part in it. He was the type of person that could really be described as an introvert. Sure, he had made a career out of preforming in packed clubs and bars, but the price he had to pay for that he made up for abundantly in being alone when he got home. If he had a boyfriend, his personal space would be severely compromised. He had seen that possibility with quite a few men in his time, but since it hadn’t ever gone somewhere – it seemed unnecessary to dwell on it.

Then there was of course, his addiction. He had spent so much time being ashamed of who he was – and frankly, not really seeing a way out of his self-made misery. Being a drug addict wasn’t fun, which was of course pretty obvious to anyone that didn’t do drugs, but when he had looked himself in a mirror and realized that he was deteriorating before his very eyes; that was when he knew that he had to change. This time, it would be for good. He wanted to be someone that at the very least stood a chance of finding happiness, but as it turns out, the remnants of his addiction would forever be lurking by his side.

At the end of the day, he simply had no idea how anyone could stand to be around him as much as a relationship required. That was of course, before he had met the ever so fabulous Trixie Mattel. Whilst they were shooting Drag Race, they had gotten increasingly closer. Brian would lurk around in the hallway of their hotel, waiting for his friend to sneak him into his room. They would gossip about the other queens, Katya would talk about his life – and there it was, the blooming friendship that they had turned into a business opportunity.

He had known quite early on that he was attracted to the younger man, but had dismissed it as just wanting to fuck him. Nothing had ever prepared him for the bomb that was to come, when he had realized that there was so much more than just horniness that lurked within his chaotic mind.

“Okay, if we’re definitely sharing a bed – I want to apologize in advance for any snoring or sleep talking.” Trixie chuckled before he slipped under the sheets of their large bed. Katya had already crept under there, having wrapped a towel over his otherwise naked body before he had laid down. There was nothing like taking a shower after a gig and then slipping into a big, comfy bed.

“I’ll have to warn you as well mother, underneath this damp towel, I am completely naked.” Katya replied in his ‘Maureen’-voice that always made Trixie giggle. This time, he snorted and laughed tiredly. “I’m literally so tired that I don’t even care. Just don’t accidentally slip it in when I’m sleeping.”

This made Katya wheeze with laughter as he imagined that particular scenario in his head. He turned in the bed so he was facing Trixie, a wide smirk on his face. “This is the time where we’re supposed to share secrets and express radical religious values.”

Trixie turned around to face him as well, brown eyes meeting blue ones. They were both leaning down on their hands, which probably made the entire situation seem more innocent than it actually was. They had shared a bed before, which had never been a problem since nothing had ever happened. But this time, something seemed different. Katya could see in Trixie’s eyes that he was up to something. That same objectivity that he usually treated Katya with seemed to be gone, based on the looks that he was giving him; they were alluring and curious.

“Okay, I’ll play. I thought you looked really beautiful tonight.” Trixie murmured, which made Katya blush involuntarily.

“Well, thank you. The elderly hag still has some game.” Katya joked, trying to lighten the mood. He knew that getting into something with Trixie probably wasn’t the best idea. Then again, he had never been one to deny himself anything. So, whatever invitation he thought he got, it was in his nature to be drawn towards it.

“Could you cuddle me? I’m feeling lonely and desperate.” Trixie asked, making Katya furrow her brows. He knew that it might turn out to be a bad idea, but nonetheless, he opened his arms up and let the other Brian crawl into his embrace. Trixie leaned his head underneath Katya’s chin and sighed with contentment when Katya let his arm drape over him and draw him close to his chest. “Are you trying to wife me up? Because it’s working.” He mumbled, not so much an innocent question as it was an attempt to decipher what was happening.

“I don’t know if I could marry someone with so much integrity and grace – I’d feel inadequate.” Trixie replied with a snort, her usual dry sense of humour returning. Katya smiled to himself and drew the queen closer to him. “Go to sleep before you use up all of your big words, you cunt.” He muttered before dozing off.

He woke again when he felt a small hand drawing circles on his hip. He peeked one eye open and saw that Trixie had leaned back, now staring right at him with big, dark eyes. “Fuck, you scared me.” He gasped, wanting to know what was worth nearly giving him a heart attack. He had always been very skittish and extremely wired, so the slightest thing threatened to make him jump out of his skin.

“I just want to try something.” Trixie replied huskily, and then started to lean in. Katya stared in awe at his friend as he got closer and closer, not really knowing what to do. The only thing he did know for certain was that he did not want to deny himself some intimacy, so when Brian Firkus’s lips touched his own, he immediately kissed him back with equal fervour. The kiss was short, but incredibly sweet. When Trixie pulled away, Katya immediately missed his touch. “What was that for?” he inquired, a thin brow cocked to mark his confusion.

Trixie rolled his eyes and then leaned in to press another chaste kiss to his friend’s lips. He pulled away just enough in order to murmur quietly: “I really need this right now.”

That was all he needed to hear. They spent the following hour just lying there in each other’s arms, kissing and giggling. It was a wonderful evening, but they didn’t speak of it the next day. There wasn’t any need to; they knew that it was just a matter of two friend’s enjoying the company of one another when there wasn’t any trade around to fill that position. Just two friends. Nothing more.

Over time, Katya had begun to get more and more attached. He knew that he shouldn’t have let Trixie kiss him the other day, but he was still unable to deny that man anything. He genuinely hoped that they would have a real chance of trying to figure out what they were once Jack was out of the picture. He had nothing against Trixie’s boyfriend, in fact, it was quite the contrary. He actually liked the guy. Had he not, he would have let the plastic fantasy have his way with him, right there in his own hallway. But that wasn’t who Brian McCook was anymore, it couldn’t be. So there he was, twenty-four hours had passed, and he was still waiting for a confirmation that they were good to go. Trixie had sent him a text, saying that he had to wait until Jack got back from work. How it had turned out, Katya had no idea. He honestly didn’t know what to do if it didn’t work out in his favour this time around.

After he had dragged his body out of bed, managed to throw on a pair of clean black jeans and his ‘Madonna’ t-shirt, he headed out of the door to meet Alaska. They had agreed to meet up at the closest Starbucks as they had a lot of formalities to go through with their podcast. Katya was enjoying the fact that he got to do all sorts of things after being on TV, but it felt strange to be involved in something with a brand new person. Alaska wasn’t new in his life per se, but they had never worked together in anything other than drag shows. Well, there was always that time where he lost the crown to her, ‘but that’s neither here nor there’ he thought to himself with a smirk. As he strutted down the streets, he lit up a cigarette to take a few puffs as he headed towards his target.

Alaska, or Justin, was already there when Katya arrived. He had no idea why anyone would say that Justin wasn’t attractive as a man. He loved Alaska dearly and thought she was sexy as hell, but Justin had this confident aura that Katya envied. “Hello there creature of the night.” Katya greeted his friend as he sat down at the small, outdoor table that Alaska had picked out for them. Katya smiled as she saw a barista approaching them with two huge Frappuccino’s. His friend knew him too well. “I figured that I might as well just order for you. You’ve gotten so skinny lately I feel like shoving straight up fat down your throat.” Alaska remarked in her raspy voice, prompting Katya to huff as she took a gulp from her frozen drink.

“I thought I should start giving Violet a run for her money.”

Truthfully, Katya hated the way he looked. After he had been on the road for so much, the small amount of weight he had been able to put on just fizzled away. Now, he worked too much to get a grip on his diet. Someone like Violet or Pearl managed to look sexy as hell despite of her fragile figures, but Katya felt like he was too old for that. He was nearly thirty-five years old, his body wasn’t supposed to look the way that it did. He also enjoyed flaunting curves as Katya – that was beginning to be a difficult thing to accomplish, pads could only do so much. When all of his costumes had begun to look droopy, he had lost his will do sew them in any further. It didn’t help that Trixie was constantly on his case about it, Katya suspected that the younger queen had begun to get suspicious if there was something else going on.

“So, how’s life? Are you and Brian getting along?” Alaska asked curiously. Katya had wanted to confide in someone that knew both him and Trixie, but the result was that Alaska asked him about it constantly.

“We are like two dysfunctional peas in a pod. Well, at least I hope we still are.” Katya replied with a shrug, not really sure if he should tell Alaska what had happened the other night. By the looks of his friend, however, he was probably not going to be able to keep it from him.

“Did you have another fight? Fuck.” Alaska exclaimed, shaking his head at his friends’ nonsense. “No, we didn’t have another fight. We, uh, quite the opposite, actually.” Katya rambled and then took another sip of her drink to collect his thoughts.

Alaska cocked one of his brows and chuckled. “You whore.”

Katya let out a wheezy laugh, flailing his arms around. “No, no, no! I was good and stopped it, I promise. He’s still got a boyfriend, so there’s that. Please don’t tell me that I’m being shady, because I didn’t start it and he promised that he would end it with his guy, so I’m just waiting for that call and – “Katya barely noticed that he had gone on a long tirade before Alaska interrupted him mid-rant:

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that, even though I live for Trixie, it wasn’t that long ago that he completely shattered your heart. He outright told you that you needed to find someone else to ‘claw onto’ or some shit like that. I don’t know, just set some standards for yourself. Don’t be that compliant.” Alaska sighed, apparently not holding back for the sake of Katya’s feelings. People rarely did.

Of course, in some way, he knew that his friend was right. Katya rarely made a case for himself, which in turn resulted in him often drawing the short straw from different relationships. It was true of course that Trixie had hurt him really badly, but none of it seemed to matter when he finally got the confirmation that he wasn’t being crazy or ‘just Katya’ – it was reciprocated, and the younger man did feel something for him. In light of that, Katya knew that he needed to defend his love. “I get where you’re coming from, but trust me – it’s going to be okay.”

———————–

Later that evening, Katya was getting ready for a gig. She still hadn’t heard a word from Trixie, and now she was beginning to feel incredibly anxious. She should have known that this would happen, because nothing would ever work out in Brian McCook’s favour. Trixie had probably changed his mind, again, and Brian would be alone – yet again.

A few hours later, the crowd was roaring at her. When Katya was on stage, she liked to think that she was a real, biological woman. She often claimed that to be the case whenever she was in drag, but especially when she was in her true element; which was near a crowd. After having just finished a song, she prepared to spout some final words of wisdom when she saw a familiar face in the crowd. Standing right there, next to one of his friends was Trixie. Brian Firkus was officially in the building and it drove Katya to the brink of insanity. They locked eyes over the crowd, and Trixie offered her a tired smile.

Katya had no idea how she should feel. Unfortunately, she was not given a lot of time to digest it all before she realized that the crowd was waiting for her, so she snapped out of her trance. What came out of her mouth after that was something ill-advised, improvised and just all around impulsive:

“You know who else is in the building? We’ve got the one and only legend, icon and star in her own mind; Trixie Mattel!” Katya shouted into the microphone, which made the crowd go absolutely wild. She could see Trixie roll her eyes and smile awkwardly at the people that turned around to greet her.

“Ha, oh my God. Sorry Tracy. Listen, you guys…” Katya drifted off, noticing that all eyes were on her again. There were two ways that this could go. Either, she could control herself and say something sweet – or, she could go into a deeply embarrassing rant that would most likely make Trixie angry. She chose the latter.

“Barbara, I did do it. I did try to… fuck her. You’d better believe it.” After that, a long rhapsody of her attempts to sleep with Brian Firkus just flew out of her mouth. She admitted that she had nearly succeeded, and noticed in that moment that Brian was making his way out of the crowd. Desperation now came into play, as Katya had no intentions of making the possible love of her life leave the room.

“I am willing to Thelma and Louise it off that fiscal cliff with that ho’ any day. She’s the one I think of when I get out of bed in the morning, and I go ‘whyy’ and then I think of her and I’m all like ‘why not? Whatever, it’s fun, yeah’.”

She had hoped that this would make Trixie stay, and it seemed like she succeeded in her attempts as the brown eyed man swirled around and laughed at her words. Katya winked to the crowd and then took a bow. After she had entered her dressing room, the process of taking Katya off had never gone quicker. She needed to find him. After Katya had thrown on his grey sweatpants and zipped up a green hoodie over his chest, it was time to go out the back. Once he did, he strode out in hopes of locating his friend.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and assumed that it was a drunk fan that wanted to get a picture with him, which was typically the case. He sighed and turned around, ready to tell the person that he was a little busy at the moment, when he saw the object of his desire. Trixie stood there, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Hey.” He greeted Katya, who just stood there, looking sufficiently sheepish.

“Hi.”

“So you’d actually toss yourself off of a cliff with me? That seems excessive.” Trixie retorted, crossing his arms over his toned chest.

“As the kids say, it’s just an expression. I wasn’t expecting to see you, I thought you had bailed on me again.” Katya pointed out, wanting to remember Alaska’s cautionary words and keep his guard up. Trixie cocked his head to the side and studied Katya’s stand offish exterior.

“I had a long night. Jack didn’t get home until late last night, and then we spent nearly four hours just fighting and crying. He left this morning.” Trixie explained, sadness washing over his features. Katya felt awful for Jack, he really did, but a flare of hope rose in his chest at the words that were coming out of Trixie’s mouth. Given the circumstances, the flare was kept relatively small for protection – but it was still there.

“I’m sorry to hear that. What did he say?” Katya asked, not really knowing what else to say in a situation like that. He didn’t want to expect anything.

“He told me that he was disappointed in me, and that he thought he knew me better than that. He questioned the fact that I would get into something with you, given your background…” Trixie explained, making Katya feel like the smallest man on the face of the earth. The fact that people still held his past against him felt like a punch in the gut. He understood that Jack was upset and obviously did not need to feel any form of responsibility for Katya, but it still hurt. He remembered the time when Vicky Vox had gone after him, claiming that he needed help more than he needed stardom. Because all she saw was a drug addict in recovery. Nothing more, nothing less.

“… And I told him that had nothing to do with it. I don’t care. I am pissed that you talked about that just now, but I’m going to let it slide for a bit because right now I really just want to kiss you, take you home and fuck your brains out.” Trixie continued, making Katya cough out of surprise. He knew that he shouldn’t. He should do this the ‘right’ way, but nothing could stop him from rushing forward and engulfing Trixie in a deep hug.

He leaned his head back and pressed his lips forcefully to Trixie’s own. The kiss was different this time. Nothing was holding them back, so Katya had no qualms about biting down on his lover’s bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. He heard a small low, guttural moan emit from Trixie’s throat, which only spurred him on even more. He slipped his tongue in and pressed Trixie even closer to his body. It felt like they had been standing there for forever when Katya finally drew back from their embrace and waggled his eyebrows. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

“Oh fuck yes.”

[anavoliselenu]

Creighton chapter 14

He nods. “Yes, but in this case it’s even more of a nuisance because the activist shareholder is also my uncle.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Your uncle?”

His smile is grim. “Yes. The uncle who was responsible for my upbringing from the age of ten to eighteen.”

I like words, mostly because I like to twist them into songs that convey some kind of emotional reaction. Justin, I’ve come to notice, chooses his words carefully. He didn’t just say the uncle who raised me.

“I’m assuming you’re not close.”

“You’d assume right. He made his money in the foreign currency exchange markets, and then got an ego boost when I did the same thing—regardless of the fact that he didn’t teach me a damn thing himself. Once I took my company public, he decided he wanted a big enough piece of it to piss me off.”

“It sounds like your relationship is . . . complicated.”

A muscle in Justin’s jaw ticks. “You could say that.”

“So, is this the kind of trouble that’s just annoying? Or is it serious?”

Justin shifts, crossing his arms over his chest. “In all honesty, I’m not entirely certain yet. Up until now, he’s just been a nuisance—demanding that I start selling off some of the businesses the company owns, which is something I refuse to do to silence him. But now, suffice it to say he’s trying alternative tactics.”

Once again, I dissect Justin’s words carefully. What he isn’t saying is coming through just as strongly.

“Do these alternative tactics have something to do with me, or us getting married?”

Justin’s chest lifts and falls on a breath. “He’s finding some ammunition in that, yes.”

I’m actually surprised by his candid answer. I expected him to dodge the question altogether.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Unlike a few minutes earlier, I’m not being sassy in the slightest. If there’s something I can do to help, I will—and not just because Justin’s name being dragged through the mud now means that my name is being muddied as well.

“I’ll figure it out.” He looks at me. “But thanks.”

I start to shrug but it turns into a yawn. “Just holler if there’s anything you think of.”

Justin studies me. “You’re tired.”

It’s not a question, but I reply anyway. “Yeah, first show after a break. It’s easy to forget how exhausting it is. Not to mention the rehearsal, sound check, meet and greet, and everything else.”

“Then I guess you should call it a night.”

“I need to be in Dallas by noon for a radio interview. I hope that’s not an issue.”

He shakes his head slowly. “Not an issue. It’s a quick flight. We’ll be there in plenty of time.”

“Okay then.” I push the chair back from the desk and stand, tugging the belt of the robe tighter and staring at my silver-polished toenails. I glance up at Justin. “I guess I’ll just be going to bed.”

I take a hesitant step toward the bedroom, waiting for him to grab me by the belt, yank me against his chest, and growl something about me forgetting about his dessert.

But he does none of those things. Instead, I’m treated to an absent nod.

“I’ll try not to disturb you. I’ve got a few hours’ worth of work ahead of me.”

Really, Justin? Really? After your orders to strip earlier? I give him a moment to change his mind. He doesn’t. Okay, then.

“No problem. I sleep like the dead. Nothing wakes me. Comes from three months of sleeping on a bus with a bunch of snoring men.”

Justin’s features tense, obliterating his previously relaxed expression. “That’s changing tomorrow too. Your new bus will be waiting after the concert.”

My mouth starts moving before my mind can tell it to shut up. “That’ll be great. I won’t have to worry about keeping my orgasms silent anymore.”

The corners of Justin’s mouth curl into a crooked smirk. He pushes off the desk and closes the distance between us.

“No, Selena, that certainly won’t be an issue anymore. In fact, I’ll have a hell of a problem if you aren’t moaning for me tomorrow night on that bus.”

I can’t keep up with the man’s moods, but it’s the smirk that does me in. I shiver at his words as they whisper over me. My hand, which seemingly develops a will of its own, reaches for the button of his jeans.

And . . . his fucking cell rings again.

I drop my hand. “I guess that means I’m going to bed alone, then.”

He reaches for his phone, checking the screen. “If I didn’t have to take this call . . .”

I shrug. “I could use the extra sleep anyway. They’ll want to do photos at the radio station, so I need to look like I could pass as a chart-topper.”

Justin slides his finger across the screen of his phone, and I turn away.

“Hold on a minute, please.”

I pause, not knowing if he’s speaking to me or the person on the phone. Peeking over my shoulder, I see him slide the phone onto the desk and step toward me. He tucks his hand in the belt of my robe and tugs me toward him in the exact move I envisioned only minutes ago.

“I’m taking a rain check on my dessert,” he says, and slants his mouth over mine.

I open to him and his tongue delves inside, tasting my mouth so deliciously that my thighs squeeze together, and I can feel the slickness growing between my legs. Cupping the back of my head, he grips my hair and tilts me the opposite direction, not wasting a breath as the kiss deepens and intensifies. I’m lost in the moment when he releases his grip on me.

Standing in stunned silence, I stare as he picks up his phone, unmutes it, leans back against the desk, and begins speaking.

“Give it to me,” he says into the phone, but I feel like his words are directed at me.

A small smile forms on my lips, and I reach for the belt of my robe and slowly untie it. I let the plush terrycloth fall open and lift my hand to rest between my breasts.

I’m not sure what little devil is guiding me, but I’m sure one must be.

Justin’s eyes zero in on my hands as he listens—or attempts to listen—to whoever is on the other end of the call.

Now that I have his attention, I skim my fingers down my body until they spread and cover my pussy. Just thinking the word always makes me hotter.

His dark eyes burn into me, and I can tell he’s stopped even attempting to listen to a damn thing that’s being said. I love that I have the power to distract him like this, even as I wonder what the heck I’m doing. It’s as if I need to prove to myself that I have something he wants. Maybe I’m seeking some kind of validation?

I don’t question what I’m feeling. I just go with it.

I dip two fingers between my lips and swirl them in the wetness that has gathered. A push of my wrist, and I slip both fingers inside me. Moaning, I let my eyes flutter shut for a beat before sliding my fingers in and out.

Oh. Lord.

I open my eyes again—just in time to see Justin’s lips form a single silent word.

“Fuck.”

My smile feels lazy and seductive as I continue to tease myself. I slide my fingers up, flicking my clit and sending a jolt of pleasure through myself. I think for a second about just making myself come, but decide to savor the anticipation and lift my hand away.

I step toward Justin.

Reaching my fingertips to his full lips, I paint them with my wetness. His tongue darts out to lick, grabbing my wrist with both hands and sucking my fingers into his mouth.

After he’s drawn every bit of slickness from my skin, he releases my fingers and growls into the phone, “I’ll call you back.”

He drops the phone to the carpet, and his feral expression turns on me. “That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

I smile, the flush of victory heating my cheeks. I stunned him. Who knew that could happen?

And then he says, “You’re going to go bend over the end of the bed, spread your legs, and I’m going to spank that tight little ass and your naughty little cunt before I fuck you so hard, you’ll still be feeling me tomorrow when you step onstage.”

The flush of heat spreads to my chest, my nipples pucker painfully tight, and my inner muscles clench.

Stunned?

I guess it’s my turn.

I prowl after Selena as she turns and heads for the bedroom. My cock pulses against my zipper, and if Cannon faults me for hanging up on him, he can go straight to hell.

Because I’ve just learned a valuable lesson—there is something more important than business, and she’s letting the white terrycloth robe dip across her back as it slides down her arms, revealing the most perfect ass I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing.

I planned to go slow. To tease her. To savor this. To watch her follow my instructions to the letter. But instead, I surge forward and cup her ass in both hands. She’s standing in front of the bed, and I push her forward until she’s bent over it.

“You have no idea how badly I just want to slide inside this perfect ass.” My lips skim her ear, and she shivers.

“Do it¸” she whispers.

A smile stretches across my face. “Oh, Selena, haven’t you figured out yet that you don’t get to give the orders here? Don’t you remember the rules?”

She shoves her ass back, as if trying to tempt me to stray from my plan.

“You know you want to,” she says, louder this time.

I step back, releasing my hold on her. “I think I’ve been too lax in making sure you understand who calls the shots here. You’ve more than earned your punishment, you dirty girl, and I’m going to enjoy the hell out of giving it to you.”

She turns her head to the side, her cheek resting on the crisp white sheets. Her brown eyes spark with challenge, and a pink flush of arousal colors her cheekbone and neck. I want to see that pink blush on her ass.

My hand swings and connects under the curve of her right cheek with a sharp smack. Selena inhales sharply and moans, her hips pressing into the bed.

I land another strike in the same place on the opposite side, and her moan grows louder. My handprint blooms reddish-pink on her skin, and this time I groan.

“Goddamn. You look so fucking sexy with my marks on you. Get up on the bed. On your knees. Now.”

She doesn’t hesitate, but complies immediately. I’ll reward her for that . . . soon. But right now, I need to give her more of this.

I pepper her skin with smack after smack. Her back is arched, ass thrusting up at me as if begging for more.

I slip my hand between her legs and stroke.

“So fucking wet, baby. Give me your hand.”

She turns her head to look back at me, confusion creasing her forehead.

“You’re going to finger-fuck that tight little pussy while I watch because I want a replay of that sexy-as-fuck show you put on for me. If you thought you were just going to tease me, you were wrong. I’m going to stroke my cock until I finish between those perfect lips of yours, and then you’re going to take me down your throat until I’m hard enough to fuck your naughty cunt.”

Her mouth drops open and my dick surges, wanting inside that hot, wet heaven.

“I haven’t had nearly enough of that dirty little mouth of yours. Now put that hand on your pussy and show me how you make yourself come.”

She lets out a breathy, “Oh my God,” before she faces forward once more and follows my instructions. I cup her ass and give her one more sharp slap for her delay before reaching for the button of my jeans.

I don’t even have my zipper down yet, and her fingers are buried inside her pussy. Gripping my dick, I squeeze it tight. But the moans and whimpers and bobbing of Selena’s ass have precum already dripping from the tip. I reach between her legs and pull her hand away.

“I need some of this.” Dipping my hand into her wetness, I coat my palm before telling her to continue. I start to stroke, my precum and Selena’s slickness easing each slide of my hand.

“You’re such a dirty fucking girl,” I tell her as I see one of her fingers ease out of her pussy and skim the pucker of her ass. “You need something filling your ass to help you come faster, baby?”

She nods.

“Give me the words, Selena.”

“Please,” she whispers.

“You’re not ready for my cock yet.”

She shakes her head.

“Show me what you want, Selena.”

Her curious little finger rims her ass, but doesn’t slip inside.

She looks back at me, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “Please.”

Selena looks like she’s teetering on the edge of orgasm, desperate for the little push that will send her over. I may not have packed much, but I remembered to pack the important stuff.

“Don’t move.”

I turn and head for my bag. After wiping off my hand, I retrieve the plug and lube in record time. I’ve got the package open and the silicone coated liberally when I step back into the bedroom.

The sight of Selena on her knees, ass in the air and her hand between her legs, nearly has me coming on the spot.

Fuck me, but this woman is perfect.

Justin stops at the end of the bed and holds up a hot pink butt plug. It’s definitely bigger than the last one we used, but right now, I don’t care. I’m reaching for what might be the most intense orgasm of my life, and I’m beyond caring about anything. I’m begging for him to shove something up my ass, and I know I should feel embarrassed or ashamed, but all I care about is the mind-blowing pleasure I know will follow.

“Fucking perfect.” Or at least I think that’s what he whispers when he lowers his head and presses a kiss to the base of my spine, and then one to each dimple at the top of my ass.

My nipples pucker as he slides the tip of the plug down my crack until it’s resting against my ass. The slick trail of lube tells me he’s already prepared it for me. The pressure is exquisite as he presses it forward just a smidge at a time. I arch my back, shoving back against it, and inhale sharply at the burn.

He backs off immediately, and his palm slaps the outside of my thigh. “Slow down, baby. You’ll get what I give you, and you’ll like it.”

He’s already started nudging the plug back inside me, and my fingers work my clit faster and faster. I can feel my arousal dripping down my hand, and I’m nearly mindless with pleasure when he’s stretched me and seated the plug.

The same palm that slapped me before now caresses my ass, and I push back into it.

“Fucking beautiful,” he says, and in that moment, I feel beautiful. I feel . . .

My thoughts shut down as the orgasm solidifies and shatters inside me. I think I moan his name, but I have no idea.

I drop my hand, ready to ride out the pleasure as it subsides, but Justin has other ideas. His fingers take over, pinching my clit and stealing another orgasm from me.

“Oh. My. God,” I whisper, my eyes slamming shut as the arm I’m using to hold myself up shakes and my elbows give way.

Justin catches me before I land face-first on the bed. He lifts me back up onto my knees, but doesn’t stop until my back is against him. His fingers disappear, but then I feel the head of his cock against my pussy.

“I’m taking a rain check on fucking that mouth of yours. Right now, I need to be inside you.” He thrusts, seating himself to the base with one ruthless push.

The plug in my ass makes him seem twice as big, and the stretch of his cock sends my body into pleasure overload.

“Justin!” Another orgasm rips through me, but he doesn’t slow. He holds me pinned to him with an arm under my breasts as he thrusts into me over and over.

I can feel his breath as he speaks against my ear. “One more time. I’m not stopping until I feel that perfect cunt of yours strangle my cock one more time.” His lips slide across my shoulder just before his teeth press against my skin.

I don’t know if it’s his words, his teeth, or my own hand between my legs, but in that moment, I detonate.

Having a wife was supposed to be convenient, and when I woke up this morning with my cock between my wife’s lips, it was incredibly fucking convenient.

But now? Now I’m starting to realize there is nothing convenient about being married to Selena Wickman Karas, and yet there’s nothing that could drag me away from her. Not even the fact that my uncle is causing trouble and riling up Wall Street. If there was ever a time I should be at the helm, showing the world that the company I’ve built from nothing is the center of my life, it’s now.

But I’m not at my desk. I’m in Dallas, still living in Selena’s world, and trying to figure out how one formerly innocent country girl claimed that center spot.

Everything I feel about her is unsettling, and I’m not ready to fucking talk about any of it. So instead, I focus on the here and now, and leave the complicated little fuckers called emotions to another day.

The woman is a workhorse—and I mean that in the most complimentary way imaginable. A trophy wife, she is not. She slipped on a pair of headphones the moment we climbed on the jet this morning, and pulled out a notebook. She was already scribbling away before takeoff. She waved off breakfast, barely looking up until we landed and I stood next to her, holding out a hand. I’ve never spent much time around creative types—all of my acquaintances tend to be like me—so this has been an education.

On the drive from the airport, I practically had to shove food in her mouth to get her to eat, as she seemed content to bob her head, hum, and scribble. She didn’t come out of her writing zone until we pulled up to the radio station, where she hopped out of the car, and I had to jog to catch up.

After a radio interview, dozens of autographs, pictures, and off-air questions, she headed back to the car. I began to feel like a chauffeur when she slipped her headphones back on and said, “We’re going to the venue next, right?” She didn’t wait for an answer before picking up her pen and starting to scribble again.

I couldn’t get her attention until we arrived at the venue. Well, to be fair, it wasn’t me that got her attention, but the giant new luxury coach I arranged to be delivered. And it didn’t actually catch her attention until she started to walk by it and I snagged her hand.

“This one’s yours.”

She stared up at the gleaming black-and-silver coach, eyes blinking. “No friggin’ way.”

I smiled at her unvarnished response. “Yes friggin’ way.”

My visions of christening the coach in style were obliterated when the members of her band climbed off the other bus, and she became all business. I was curious to watch their rehearsal, but a conference call had me climbing on Selena’s new bus and firing up my laptop. Alone. And I thought this marriage was going to be fucking convenient.

By the time I’ve finished up work, Selena still hasn’t returned. A look at the clock says it’s now almost six.

Shit.

Did I miss it?

Fuck.

I flip my laptop shut and hurry off the bus, flashing the pass that some skinny guy dropped off about three hours ago. Something about all-access. At least tonight I won’t be trying to bribe some security guard the size of a giant to get backstage. That’s a marginal improvement.

I find someone who looks like she knows what the hell is going on, and after her eyes practically bug out of her head when she realizes who I am, she points me in the direction of Selena’s dressing room.

My knock on the door is answered with a simple “come in,” and I throw the door wide open.

Selena is surrounded by three people—a man going after her face with what look like makeup brushes and sponges, another man messing with her hair, and a woman running a lint roller across an outfit hanging from a hook on the wall. They’re fussing and clucking and doing God knows what.

They don’t pause when I enter, so I find myself a chair in the corner and settle in to check the e-mails that keep buzzing on my phone. A few other people continuously bang in and out of the room, tossing out bits of information that don’t catch my attention. I slip into my own little world, in a corner of Selena’s world, until Selena stands and undoes the top buttons on her plaid shirt.

I stand, calmly, and cross the room to pause in front of her chair.

“A moment, if you would,” I say. Again, calmly. And then I back her into a corner of the room behind a screen.

Her eyebrows are bunched together in confusion. “What’s wrong?” she asks, glancing beyond the screen and back at me.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I growl from between clenched teeth.

“Changing.” Her slow, measured response suggests I’m a dumb fuck.

“Not in front of a roomful of people, you’re not.”

I jab a hand in the general direction of the door, which even now, I can hear opening and closing with what seems like more traffic than a damn freeway.

With a flip of her now wavy hair, Selena brushes off my concern and presses a hand to my chest in an attempt to shove me out of the way so she can get out from behind the screen.

When I don’t budge, she says, “Justin, everyone in this room has seen me mostly naked dozens of times.”

An insane thought fires through my brain, and I shove it away. I shouldn’t be wondering if any of my companies have access to technology to create memory loss in humans. If she were any other woman, I wouldn’t care if the whole world saw her naked.

But this woman? I do. I very much do. Why? Doesn’t matter beyond the fact that she’s my fucking wife.

A caveman didn’t need to understand the urge to drag a woman back to his cave where the other cave assholes can’t see her perfect fucking body. This is a physiological reaction, millennia in the making, over which I have zero control. The rationalization makes my intense possessiveness easier to swallow.

“I don’t give a damn if every person in the entire fucking stadium saw you buck-ass naked before. You’re Mrs. Justin Karas now. The rules have changed.”

The word “rules” brings color to her face, and I wonder if she’s thinking of last night when I asked her if she remembered the rule about me being in charge.

Turns out I’m wondering wrongly.

The hands pressing against my chest pull back and slam palm-first into my pecs. Unprepared for her shove, I stumble back a step and into the screen, scraping it across the floor.

“What the hell, Selena?”

“You’re such an asshole!” She whisper-yells this at me, but the chatter in the room goes silent.