Sex, Desires & Rock N Roll Read online

  “So,” I mimick.

  Both of us don’t want to acknowledge the obvious. This is probably our last night together for a while. It hangs in the air like thick black smoke.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asks, lacing his hand in mine.

  “Absolutely.” I smile as brightly as I can at him without it coming off as fake. Underneath I’m frowning, knowing our time is limited.

  Dash guides us through the warehouse and out to his car. He assists me in, always the gentleman, and climbs in once he reaches the driver’s side. He pulls out into traffic, and we head to his house. I don’t need to question about my car, knowing it will probably show up at his place like magic. The drive to his house is pretty much silent. We simply hold hands across the center console, his thumb rubbing across my hand. This gesture is his way of telling me it is going to be all right, and we can get through this short separation. Yeah, like three to four months is short. I keep trying to convince myself, but I fail every time I try. I’ve talked to Dr. Hoffman about this and how I feel. I’m afraid I’ll regress and start having panic attacks more often when Dash is gone. I know it’s wrong on so many levels to rely on him in such a big way, and Dr. Hoffman has of course pointed that out. But we give each other something the other is missing or needs. I am working on being strong for me and only by me, knowing I can’t always rely on the warmth of Dash to do that for me. He may be my light in the dark, but I need to make my own light too. Dash has more faith in me than I do that I can make that happen. He’s actually noticed a few times when a small panic attack has tried to take hold, that instead of reaching for him, I garner my inner strength—relying on myself. It’s small steps, but in the right direction.

  We arrive at his house, Dash pulls into the garage, and turns the car off—neither one of us makes an attempt to exit. He turns in his seat and faces me. I feel his hand on the back of my neck and I turn my head to face him, holding back the tears that are threatening to make themselves known. Be strong, Jules, be strong. He leans in as he pulls me to him, and his lips ghost against mine. It feels like forever, just ghosting his lips back and forth over mine. He finally relents and deepens the kiss, his lips pressing harder, taking and giving what we both need. I feel every emotion at that moment in that kiss: passion, lust, want, need, sadness, ache. I so want to cry. Dash pulls away.

  “Come,” he says as he gets out of his car.

  I swipe my finger under my eye as a rogue tear falls. I promised myself I wouldn’t fall apart in front of him. It’s the last thing he needs—to be worrying about me back here when he has so much on his mind. I take a deep breath and steel my nerves. I reach deep inside and find every ounce of strength I have to move forward. I can do this. I am doing this. When Dash comes around to my side opening the door for me, I take his hand as I get out. He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his side. We enter his house—it’s dark; there isn’t a single light on. It looks like I feel at the moment, no matter how much strength I’ve gathered. Dark and alone. I know I shouldn’t, because this is going to ruin our evening together, but I can’t help it.

  Get it together, Bennett. Don’t ruin it. You can do this.

  I put on my happy mask.

  Dash turns on a few lights as we make our way down the long hall into the living room. He stops near his piano.

  “I wanna play something for you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Dash motions for me to take a seat on the comfy couch, while he takes his position on the bench in front of the piano.

  “I wrote this for you.”

  I inhale sharply, knowing any moment I could easily fall apart. My jumbled emotions are just below the surface, threatening to overtake me. I keep them smothered as best as I can. Dash begins to play, and the melody that exudes from the piano is beautiful—and familiar. It’s the tune he’s always humming to me. The notes linger in the air and make their way over to me, caressing and calming me. He continues to pour whatever it is he is feeling into the piece. I can clearly see it in his face. His eyes are closed, and he has his bottom lip between his teeth. My heart and arms ache to hold him.

  With a few more notes, the piece comes to an end and Dash sits completely still, his head bowed. I get off the couch and walk over to him as a lone tear breaks my dam. I quietly stand behind Dash and rest my hands on his shoulders. He swiftly turns around, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me to him, and resting his face against my stomach. I stroke his hair and just let him be. How can I be without him?

  Dash slowly pulls away and looks up at me, his eyes glistening. “It’s called ‘Saved.’ I wrote it after we first met.”

  I feel the lump creep up my throat, and I push it down with all I have. “Dash, it’s beautiful.”

  “So, you like it?” he says, his chin resting on my stomach as he looks up at me.

  “Dash, I love it. It’s perfect. I can’t believe you wrote that for me.”

  “Anything for you, Sunshine, anything.” I believe him.

  I suddenly feel very overwhelmed and emotionally and physically exhausted. The days leading up to now have taken their toll on me. I’ve done everything I can to put the thought of tonight and tomorrow out of my mind, but now that it’s actually here, there’s no denying or ignoring it any longer. A yawn escapes my mouth, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I don’t want this night to end because when it does…

  “I think we should go to bed,” he says.

  “I really don’t want to go to sleep now, I don’t want to mi…” I begin, but stop myself, knowing if I actually say it out loud, then it’s real.

  “We don’t have to go to sleep. I just want to lie with you in my arms for as long as I can.” Dash’s voice is raw with emotion, echoing how I feel.

  “I’d like that.” I want that and so much more. I want to hold him and never let go. I want him to stay here with me and forget about the tour. I want him with me. I just want him. I’m being selfish, and it’s not fair to him. It’s not fair to the guys in the band. I can and will get through the next few months. I have to; there’s no other choice.

  Dash stands up, his body flush against mine. His hand comes up to my face, his thumb against my cheek rubbing absently back and both. “My Sunshine,” he whispers between us. I stare deeply into his fierce blue eyes, and they are swimming in warmth, glistening in the light that glows in the room. He leans down, his lips barely touching mine. I melt against him. After a tender kiss, he laces his fingers in mine and leads me upstairs.

  The bedroom’s light casts a soft glow, blanketing the room in warmth. Dash leads me toward the bed, and I note my bag on it. The emotionality of the situation threatens to overcome, and I desperately need a moment to just be and decompress. I don’t want to be away from him for a second, but I don’t want him to see how much this night is affecting me. I want Dash to see his sunshine. I want to be that strong woman he knows and has witnessed. I need just a moment to find her. I grab my bag from the bed, looking at Dash over my shoulder. I smile wide as best I can, and make my way to the bathroom. “I’m gonna change, okay?”

  Dash looks momentarily confused, but then realization shimmers in his eyes. He knows what I need. He always knows what I need. “Sure.”

  I close the bathroom door behind me just in time for a few tears break through.

  Pull it together, Bennett. Now is not the time.

  I listen to my inner self and shake off my gloomy feelings. I splash cool water on my face and tend to the matter at hand—changing. It’s all I can really focus on right now. If I focus on anything but, I will be a blubbering idiot cowering in the corner. I undress and slip into a tank and sleep shorts. Feeling comfy in my new attire, I begin to relax. I give myself the once-over, making sure my eyes won’t give me away. Satisfied, I comb my fingers through my hair once more and open the door.

  Dash is sitting on the bed wearing only pajama pants. My heart swells in my chest. It just boggles my mind that the man can look hotter each ti
me I see him. I take a deep breath and crawl into bed beside him. He immediately pulls me to him, wrapping his arms completely around me, making me feel safe. I want to believe that everything will be okay, that we will be okay, and the feeling I get being blanketed by Dash makes me believe just that. I settle into his crook, and another unwanted yawn escapes me.

  “Someone definitely needs to get some sleep,” he says into my hair.

  “Maybe, but I don’t…” I begin, but he cuts me off.

  “I’ll make you a deal. You sleep, and I will set the alarm early enough before I even have to head out. That way, you will have rested up and we can say …” he trails off.

  Both of us are skirting around the inevitable.

  “I’d like that before we need to say… say… goodbye.” The words are bitter on my tongue.

  “It’s not really good bye, you know. I’ll be back before you know it. And you can even come out and visit while I’m touring… if you want,” he says, like I haven’t even thought of that yet.

  “I would really love to.”

  “Good. Now, no more talking. I need you rested up for when the alarm goes off,” he playfully says.

  “Okay,” I acquiesce.

  Dash continues to play with my hair while he hums my song, with an occasional lyric. His lips rest against the crown of my head, and every once in a while I feel him kiss me. It’s more intimate and tender than any kiss we’ve shared. My eyes begin to flutter as Dash sings “Broken and bruised… she saved me… she was the light in my dark… she is my everything…” With the lyrics lingering in my mind and warming me all over, against my will, I yield to Mr. Sandman in no time.

  I wake up in the middle of the night, my mouth dry, Dash peacefully sleeping beside me. I reach my hand out and gently sweep a stray hair out of his face. I place a kiss on his lips, and he minutely stirs in his sleep. My eyes memorize every nuance that makes Dash, Dash—his long, dark lashes, the curve of his nose, the squareness of his jaw, his full lips. I stare and stare, committing the beautiful man beside me to memory. I take in the tattoo scrawled along his chest—My Burden to Bear. My Dash has his demons too. Demons I’ve recently learned about. My fingers trace the intricate lettering, the heat of his skin warming me, the beat of his heart calming. Dash stirs again and I quickly pull back, not wanting to wake him. I slide out of bed, my eyes never leaving his sleeping form. I tiptoe my way to the door and make my way downstairs to the kitchen.

  Once in the kitchen, I just want to hurry up and get back to Dash. I open the fridge, staring at its contents, not really sure what I want to drink. I mean, the man has a whole shelf devoted to drinks. There’s water, Coke, Diet Coke, Vitamin Water, everything and anything; I reach for a Vitamin Water. I’m about to close the fridge when I sense someone is watching me. I turn and find Dash gazing at me. More like staring. If he had X-ray vision, I imagine he could see right into me and through me. I feel practically naked even though I am wearing my pajamas.

  “You look amazing. The light from the fridge and the moonlight from the window, the way the both cascade around you and illuminate you. You look like an angel, Sunshine,” Dash clarifies with lust in his eyes and a devilish grin pulling at his lips.

  I feel my knees get weak, and my insides clench. The wetness pools between my legs, and I swear it totally soaks through my panties, I clench my thighs together. He continues to stare at me, his eyes raking over my body, and his bottom lip find its way between his teeth. I swallow, hard. Dash inhales deeply.

  “You smell delicious—coconut and something distinctly you,” he growls, licking his lips.

  I instinctively back away slightly, my body only moving a few inches next to the fridge. My back is flush with the counter. Again, I swallow, hard. Dash continues to approach me, like a predator intimidating its prey. His eyes gaze over to the semi-opened refrigerator, and a playful mask takes over his features.

  He cocks his head to the side, and his mouth displays that infamous lopsided smile before he speaks. “Oh, Sunshine, this is going to be so much fun.”

  He is instantly in front of me, his strong arms wrapping around my waist and lifting me off the floor, moving me away from the refrigerator. A squeal escapes my lips, and I playfully struggle against his chest.

  “Oh, you can resist all you want, sweetness, but right now, I. Want. You,” he accentuates the last three words he speaks.

  While he holds me close to him, his left arm firmly wrapped around me, his right arm reaches into the fridge and pulls out a can of Redi-Whip.

  Oh my, Dash really wants to play. He points the can at my shoulder and spurts out some whipped cream. It hits my skin all cold, sending a shiver over my body.

  “Dash, didn’t your mother teach you it’s not nice to play with your food,” I tease with a raised eyebrow.

  “Yes, she certainly did. But when she taught me that, I don’t think she was talking about what I have in mind,” he teases back, mirroring my eyebrow.

  An intense white hot heat proceeds to flash all over my body, consuming me. I am positive that I am turning bright pink, unable to hide from him exactly how I feel. Dash inches himself closer to me, and my skin ignites from the closeness. His warm breath encompasses my face, and I can’t help but swoon. It’s as if he’s dazzling me just by breathing on me. I close my eyes, trying to regain my composure, which I know is a feeble attempt. With him so close, it’s a lost cause.

  I feel his fingers on my cheek, lingering, before they find their way to my mouth. He gently tugs on my lip with the pad of his thumb; I hadn’t realized I was biting on it.

  “If you keep doing that, there’s not going to be anything left for me to kiss, Sunshine,” he says in his gritty singing voice that instantly makes me want to drop my panties.

  “Uh, huh,” I utter because it’s the only words I can formulate at the moment. He’s working that sexy, rockstar voodoo.

  His fingers are no longer touching my lip; I feel them running down my arm until they find their destination, gripping my hip. Dash’s lips ghost mine, causing goose bumps to erupt over every inch of my skin. His lips only linger on mine for a few seconds before they trail along my jawline, down my neck, and over my collarbone. He places a single kiss there before continuing on to my shoulder, to the whipped cream. I feel his tongue sweep against my skin before coming in contact with the sweet dollop. He licks it up and kisses the spot after it’s gone.

  “Mmmm, that definitely tastes better on you than on any fucking dessert.” He breathes into my shoulder.

  I simply shudder and begin panting. My thoughts are foggy, and all I can think, feel, and breathe is him. Dash. His mouth slowly trails the path it just took, and his lips find mine once again. This time they aren’t ghost-like; they are full bodied and are consuming mine. Dash’s tongue sweeps across my bottom lip; I part my lips and welcome his tongue with mine. Our tongues play, tease, and caress each other. My hands snake around his neck, instinctively pulling him closer to me. I want him closer. I need him closer. And I have never wanted anything or anyone so much in my entire existence.

  This sudden awareness terrifies me, but we don’t have much more time together before he leaves, and I don’t want my scared, insecure, little girl to ruin what little time we do have before he leaves to go on tour. I push her into a closet in my mind, slam the door shut, and lock it, hiding the key. She begins to protest by banging on the door loudly. But as the seconds beat away, her knocks become weaker and weaker, and she finally succumbs to my will. She is silenced.

  When my awareness returns, I realize Dash’s lips are no longer on mine, and he is staring at me. His look is questioning.

  “Jules, is, um, is everything okay? I mean, is this okay? I don’t want you to, um…” he stammers before I cut him off.

  “Everything is perfect, Dash. Just perfect,” I assure him, making sure the key is well hidden.

  “Really?” he questions.

  “Definitely.” I smile. It amazes me that in one moment he can be so confide
nt, exuding a sexiness that goes off the charts, and then in a turn he’s unsure of himself and his actions.

  His eyes light up at this, and I can see nothing but want in his eyes now. My insides turn into liquid fire, and I feel dizzy. Dash’s hand reaches up and caresses my cheek, holding me prisoner. He leans in and gently kisses me. The flutter of a thousand butterfly wings erupts in my stomach, and I can’t help the blush that consumes me.

  “I so love the color pink,” he says as he lifts me up onto the counter.

  He pulls back, and my body is screaming at me to get him back. Dash’s eyes are dark, navy blue now, and that devilish grin tugs at the corner of his lips. I swallow hard. He turns his attention back to the fridge that has been cooling the air around us. He pulls out several jars and sets them down beside me. I look at him a little confused.

  “Trust me?”

  And I don’t have to think about it. “Yes, I trust you.”

  He comes and stands in front of me; his hands graze up my legs and rest on my knees. He gently pushes them apart so he can stand in between them. I shiver. Dash’s nimble fingers tug at the hem of my tank top; I raise my arms knowing what he wants, and the top lifts off my body and falls to the floor.

  “Beautiful,” he says all raspy.

  If I wasn’t totally pink before, I sure am now. For the first time I don’t think it’s because I’m being shy or uncomfortable by what he has said. Honestly, I think it’s because I am just always a little nervous around Dash, no matter how confident I may attempt to come across. I know I have no reason to be embarrassed or feel less than… Dash has showed me and told me that there’s no reason for my insecurities when it comes to him… to us. I’m still working on that skewed perception I have. It’s gotten better, but still it lingers there. I resolve not to worry about it anymore and refocus all my attention on the beautiful, wonderful man before me. A huge smile creeps across my lips.