FicWad

Five Months Later


He’s got black hair and grayish eyes, looks are better than average. Strong hands, a little on the skinny side. Straight nose, a bit above average height. He’s introverted at times, and can be passive.
In bed, though, it’s a different story.
“Touch me,” he growled in my ear, running his mouth along my neck. I shuddered, digging my nails into his bare sides as we tossed and turned in the cheap bed frame, not caring if it broke as long as it was after we were done. He bit my earlobe and I groaned, wanting on top for the third time in the past twenty minutes, but knowing I wasn't going to get it. I could feel his warm, wet tongue trailing down my collarbone, and I got even hotter, running my hands through his hair as he pushed me up against the headboard, motions within me never stopping.
“C’mon baby, that’s right.” I could feel his teasing whisper against my ear and I ran my hands down his front with a growl of my own. He grunted and we fell back on the bed, twisting on top of the bed covers.
He kissed me open-mouthed and raked his hands through my hair, just because he knows it drives me crazy, and began increasing his speed. I whimpered against his kiss, biting his lip and smashing his sinewy body against mine.
“Deeper, please-” He obliged, pounding into me, groaning my name in my ear. I could feel myself coming close, waves of tingling pleasure crashing over me.
“Jen, Jen, Jen-” with every word he went harder, faster.
I shuddered, letting everything go at the same time he did, and we both collapsed on top of the sheets. I panted as he sat up, struggling for breath too, looking at me from under his hair. I flopped back against the pillows, flashing him a smile in between heaving breaths. It was, without a doubt, the best sex I’d ever had, and I'd had my fair share. He was a god between the sheets, and there was no denying it.
He didn't reach over to hold me, he never does. He just always looks at me with that half-smile, like he was now, sitting on the side of the mattress. Shaking his sweaty, dark hair out of his eyes with a jerk of the head. He pulled off his now-damp black button up and tossed it onto a knob on the footboard, not bothering to take off his jewelry. Leaning over, trailing his fingers across my lower stomach, and sending jolts through me in spite of what we just did.
"Thanks, baby," he whispered in my ear, standing up, walking towards the bathroom. He threw me a grin over his shoulder before ducking through the door. I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, hearing the water hit the tile. I was still breathing hard, and I could still feel aftershocks shooting through me from him. I turned over, allowing myself to wish just for an instant that he was just a little softer, wish that maybe he would stay a little longer with me sometimes, maybe tell me he loves me. I sat up, shaking my head. That was how rock and rollers were. They did you hard, fast, rough, and they never stayed. I glanced at the clock. Seven p.m., two hours til the show. With one last satisfied sigh, I swung myself out of bed and padded to the closet, running my fingers along the row of shimmering, skimpy costumes. What to wear tonight? My hand stopped on my sparkling red teddy. Yanking it off the rack, I tossed it onto the bed. Might as well go out in style. I sat down next to it on the tangled bed covers, noting their disarray. Maybe it was something in the air, but I had a feeling that if everything tonight was going to be as good as the start had been, we’d be doing pretty good.
Pulling on a pair of red stilettos, I turned to the mirror, examining my wild bed hair and reddened face. Good god, you knew you were in L.A. when you had sex before dancing a show.
I clicked to the bathroom, pressing my ear to the door. The water was still running, but I pushed it open anyways. Turning the faucet to cold, I splashed my face and the back of my neck, trying to rid myself of the pink flush. Face buried in a towel, I heard the water stop. Tossing it down on the counter, I turned to see Izzy pull aside the shower curtain. He was beautiful, sparkling all over with droplets of water, wet, black hair falling into his eyes. Nether regions weren’t too shabby either.
Fuck.
Why'd he have to make me so goddamn hot?
His eyes landed on my body and he wolf whistled teasingly, wrapping a towel around his waist. I winked back, grateful that he was in such a playful mood.
"Sorry, mister, I've got a previous engagement with a rockstar." I turned around, flaunting my hips for his benefit.
"Goddamnit." He grinned, steeping over the tub and grabbing my waist in his strong, long fingers and spinning me around.
"I guess I'll just have to take my chances with the motherfucker," he breathed, our foreheads pressed together. With heels on, I could just look him in the eye. I allowed myself a moment of bliss in the steam before it was cut by a sharp knock at the apartment door.
"Hurry up, fuckface, we're gonna be late!" Stevie's voice.
"Damn," Izzy cursed, jumping back from me and dashing to our bedroom. Following, I grabbed and tied my full-length coat and shook back my hair.
Running my red lipstick around mouth, I watched Izzy hastily towel off his hair and throw on some clothes. Tossing down the tube, I blocked his hand as he went to button up his shirt.
"Leave it," I told him, pushing his hat into his hand with my right as my left trailed down his bare stomach.
"Dammit Jen, really, in the leather pants?" His voice was irritated, but his eyes laughed and his mouth smirked.
"Says that man that decided to exit the shower the moment I entered. Practically ruined my best lingerie, Izz."
He really did laugh this time, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the door as the volume of Steven's rapping reached gunfire level.
"C'mon girl, let's get outta here."
I followed, anticipating the night. A rockstar may have had a set to play, but this girl had a show to dance.