Play With You (Loneliness) (4 page)

Our meeting continues in this vein for another twenty-five minutes. Once I've had about all I can stand of the warnings, I stand up and tell the guys that I understand.

"I won't get involved with him. I know the band's rule and I won't break it," I tell them, almost furiously. I don't know why I had become so defensive. Inside, I'm fuming. But I'm going to respect what they say.

A few days later, I've gotten myself back into my usual good humor for our next practice. I've decided I can't do anything about my feelings for Marcus or the band's stance on any possible relationship with him. They seem to have decided the matter has been dealt with, so we all return to the business at hand. We resume working on our music. Practice goes well and we start making some really good progress on the newer music.

"Well, lads, I think we're ready for me to talk to Nigel. I'll schedule a time when he can be here to listen to us go through several sets. I'll let you know when that is. It'll be a longer practice session, so it might take place at a different time of the day," says Tim.

We all cheer. This means we're getting close to going out on the road again! We end practice a little early that day. Tim feels that a few shorter sessions will be better as we prepare for the longer demo session, at which our band's manager will be present.

At home, I look at my topsy-turvy apartment. Weeks of non-stop practice have left the place a wreck. I'm feeling energetic - even a little fractious - so I decide a good cleaning is in order. After all, I may as well use some of that high-spiritedness for good, rather than bad. Pulling my cleaning stuff out, I start with my least-favorite chore. I clean the bathroom, feeling good and virtuous when I'm done. It smells good and it sparkles. Next, I tackle laundry. Tossing my clothing, towels, sheets and unmentionables into separate piles, I begin washing. While the washer is agitating my clothing, I go after the mess in my kitchen. Just as I finish the kitchen and reach for the vacuum, my phone rings. Reading the number, I see Tim's on the other end.

"Hey, Tim, what's up?" I ask him, panting slightly from the strenuous housework.

"Hey, you sound like you've just run a marathon," he jokes.

"I'm tackling the mess that's my apartment," I tell him. "So, what's up?"

Tim sighs heavily. Oh, no! This won't be good. I feel it in my gut.

"Listen, Jo. After you told us how you felt about Marcus, I did a little looking around during our most recent practices. It's obvious that he likes you, too. That makes it even more imperative that you must not get involved with him. Even though he's only the relative of a band member, a relationship with him is verboten."

"Tim, I had no intention of pursuing anything with him!" I tell him, trying not to sound obvious about my true feelings. I force myself to stay calm and I even put a slight smile on my face, though he can't see it. "I'm going to respect everything you, Laslow and Linny told me. I know he's off-limits and off-limits he shall remain."

"Good. Johanna, I trust you."

I close my eyes and breathe deeply. My heart yearns for Marcus but my mind yearns for the best intentions of The Lonely Lovers. After all, it wouldn't do to get mad at the band's leader, now, would it? I agree with everything he tells me - at least verbally. I have got to get off this phone! Finally, he bids me goodbye and I end the call. It's a measure of my upset that I set my phone down with more force than is necessary. Muttering under my breath, I whisper the swear words I daren't say to him. "If he thinks I need some damned reminder, he's either thicker than I give him credit for or he's seen more than I wanted him to see! Damn him!"

Of course, now that Marcus is truly "forbidden territory," he's even more irresistible! I decide to wear myself out every night with some hot-and-heavy sessions. That night, I shower and think hot, steamy thoughts. That's not forbidden, is it? Who cares who I finger myself to? As I dry off and lotion my skin, my mind runs riot with images of Marcus and I kissing and more.

In my room, I clothe myself in my pajamas. Spring or not, the nights still get cold in dreary London. My eyes close and I begin to think of Marcus - with me, sitting in my front room. He's kissing me and running his large hands all over me. Soon I am hot, bothered and throbbing and I bring myself off. Two or three more times before I'm satisfied.

Truth is, my whole life I've had several guys interested in me. When I was in school, I dated a fair bit. I'm not too bad-looking. I have brown hair with purple highlights dyed in. I have large, deep brown eyes and I'm what you'd call petite. I've liked guys before and I've always wondered if a serious relationship would form. But either they weren't in a position to get into a relationship, or I wasn't in a position to commit to a relationship. When I hear about them from mutual friends, I'm grateful. But I knew from a very young age that music was going to be my life, so I have little patience for anyone who's not worth my time. I'd just as soon be a singlet. Of course, when I meet the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life, I'll figure that out. I've never been a "love 'em or leave 'em" type of girl. Once I get to know someone - if he has the qualities and beliefs I'm looking for - I'll know if it's okay to give him that most special gift.

Still, time rolls on and finally, we're on the road again. Nigel Bosley, our manager, listened to our practice CD and agreed that Laslow is ready to be introduced to our fans, so we are putting on concerts in three towns here in Great Britain. Before the first gig, Laslow is understandably nervous - he runs to the men's loo to lose his stomach before we start. I make a cup of hot ginger tea for him and it settles him right down. When we get onto the stage, we're all nervous and keyed up. We want this concert series to be a success - for me, it's a matter of proving Gemma wrong.

It goes perfectly.

After the first concert, we're wired up. We stop at a pub that's still open and wind down with several pints. I become tipsy and Marcus offers to drive me home. It's a cold night out, so the night air helps me get sobered up pretty fast. By the time Marcus arrives at his flat, I'm back to normal. Still, he invites me in for some coffee before he takes me home.

"Sure, thanks. I know Tim's going to want to go through every second of our concert and critique everything. I need to have a sober head for that," I tell him.

Inside, he makes the coffee, as I sit in his living room. My heart is hammering so heavily that I'm sure he can hear it. I force myself to appear perfectly calm as he puts cups, spoons, creamer and sugar on a tray. The coffee finishes dripping and he brings the carafe to the living room table and pours both of our cups. After we flavor it to our liking, we sit back, sipping and chatting.

Marcus' hand lands on the back of his couch, very near my head. After I finish a sip of my coffee, he begins running his hand through my hair. I panic a bit on the inside. After the concert, I pulled my hair out of its braid and just let it cascade down my back. I really enjoy how his hand feels running through my hair. My eyes close and I breathe in, trying to keep my body from betraying me. It's to no avail - my nipples are growing rock-hard and I'm afraid he's going to see them through the lacy top and cover I'm wearing. I feel my pussy beginning to throb heavily and hot droplets leak out, wetting my thong. I look at Marcus and see that the black of his pupils has almost completely overtaken the emerald-green of his beautiful eyes. He's developing a definite hitch to his breathing. He sets his coffee cup down and takes mine out of my nerveless hands - which are good, because I'm this close to dropping it all over his sofa. He wraps his large hand around the back of my head and slowly pulls me closer to him. Closer, closer, closer we get, until our lips are a hair's breadth away from each other. I feel his warm, coffee-scented breath on my face ...then, oh, glory, he's kissing me! All the strength seeps out of my muscles as I wrap my arms around his muscular neck. He pulls me close to him and I feel the solidity of his chest, arms and legs. I also feel the hardness of...whoa, is that his cock? I never knew they got that hard! Soon, I'm on his lap, with the tip of his dick pressing eagerly against the backs of my legs and my ass. This heats me up even more and I let out a soft, low groan into his mouth as our tongues tangle with each other.

Just a little note about myself - I have never gone even this far with any lads. Hand-holding, yes; kissing, yes, but never this intense. My need for Marcus is beginning to pound through my whole body, in time with my pounding heart. My pussy begins to moisten as I think about his hard dick leaning on me.

"Johanna, I really need to touch you. I want to make love to you, but if you don't want to, let me know. I'll stop now," Marcus whispers into my ear, just before he licks and kisses it. A hot shiver racks my body and my desire ratchets even higher.

"Marcus, I want you, too. But you should know, I've never gone all the way - with anyone," I tell him.

I feel him go still. Oh, no! I've ruined things! Then, he takes my face, which is burning hot, and turns me to face him. He gazes deeply into my eyes...his look is tender. He gives me a very soft kiss.

"Do you want to stay and make love with me? If you're not...ready, I'll understand," he tells me softly.

I look at him. This feels...right, I decide.

"I want to stay with you. I want to make love with you," I tell him. Now, my face is really burning hot and my heart is really thumping! I wrap my arms more strongly about Marcus' neck and bury my hot face in his shoulder.

He wraps his arms around me and simply holds me. I follow his lead and slowly relax. Then, I feel his dick throbbing and moving and this revs me up again.

Marcus begins kissing me again. As he does so, he unbuttons the button of my snug pants and unzips the zipper. Lifting my slight body, he somehow manages to scoot my pants and thong down. Now that the lower half of my body is exposed, I feel like it's really about to happen. Marcus begins playing with my clit and dipping his fingers inside my pussy, which is engorged with blood, throbbing, hot and soaking wet. He uses my wetness to play with my clit, taking me to heights I've never experienced by myself. He moves his slender fingers slowly, then quickly, taking his cues from my body's responses. Soon, too soon, I am cresting and feeling the throbbing and heat as they combine inside me, curling and swirling in my secret place. My legs fall apart and my head falls back as I begin to keen a high note of desire and completion. I feel the heat in my pussy hit forest fire levels as I begin to convulse and thrash on his lap. When the storm is over, I am limp in his arms and his lap is soaking wet with my juices! I've never done that before - spurted like that. Blushing, I look at him and he smiles. He smiles?

"Marcus, I'm sorry!" I tell him.

"It's not often I've been with a woman who's done that. That lets me know that you enjoyed it. It also means that your first time with a man will be less painful," he tells me.

"Oh. But..."

"But what?"

"I experienced all the satisfaction and you got...nothing," I tell him.

"To the contrary, Johanna. Feel that?" I feel his shaft, even larger than before as it's lodged in between my thighs, throbbing and jerking about. "You gave me tremendous satisfaction. Don't ever think that because you're not playing with me, you're not giving me satisfaction," he says in a low and gravelly voice.