Reckless (41 page)

Griffin and Kellan popped into the room a minute later. Kellan tipped the bellhop while Griffin lay down on the bed next to my sister. His hands were under her dress before I even had a chance
to turn away. Feeling my cheeks heat as the sounds of lip-smacking filled the air, I hurried over to Kellan. He was lightly laughing at the frisky pair of reunited lovers. Grabbing his hand, I
pulled him from the room and tossed over my shoulder, “Catch you guys later.”

Anna mumbled some response, then let out a low moan. I quickly closed their door and headed over to the other room reserved for the D-Bags. Anna and Griffin could have that room all to
themselves. That was just fine.

Just as she’d said, Anna stayed with us after the concert. When the busses packed up and left Atlanta, my sister packed up and headed out with us. Griffin was in seventh
heaven now that Anna was with him again. A part of me wanted to believe that it was just because he was having regular sex again—a
lot
of regular sex—but there were brief
moments of tenderness in between the sex that made me wonder if Griffin really did love my sister, and if she really did love him.

I certainly enjoyed having some more feminine energy on the bus while we traveled, and I loved having my sister close to me again; it was nice to have someone to talk to about all the craziness
going on. The only thing I didn’t love was the loss of my marriage bed. Griffin and Anna evicted Kellan and me from our bedroom the minute she climbed on board. And I couldn’t even
really complain about it because she was pregnant—very pregnant. Making her sleep in an uncomfortable cubby would be cruel.

So I grudgingly squished myself between Kellan and the bus wall every night and tried to ignore the lack of privacy, space, and comfort.
It’s okay, I love my sister and she needs the
room more than I do
became my new bedtime mantra as I attempted to fall asleep amidst the snoring, shuffling, and chatting of my many rock-star bunk mates.

Waking up with a kink in my neck after another restless night, I debated if Kellan and I could rent a motor home for the remainder of the tour. The hole-in-the-wall bunks even made me miss our
thin mattress on Justin’s bus. It was dark in our cubby, and the bus was unusually quiet. I figured it was still early, or late. I didn’t know. Time was meaningless when alternating
between packing up late at night and heading out early in the morning. And crisscrossing over time zones only added to the confusion. My internal clock was all sorts of messed up. I only knew that
I was awake while others appeared to be asleep.

The sleeping portion of the bus had no windows, and the thin gray curtain that gave us the illusion of privacy was fully extended. It was peaceful, if cramped. My eyes quickly adjusted to the
lack of light, and blocky shapes sharpened into distinct objects. A smiling set of lips were the first thing I noticed.

“Mornin’,” Kellan whispered.

I stretched my tight joints and carefully turned my neck; it ached badly. I was going to have to invest in a therapeutic pillow soon. “Good morning . . . is it morning?” I
yawned.

His hand on my stomach shifted to my side, pulling me into him. “No idea.”

Kellan was tall, a bit too tall for the cubbies, and his knees were pressing into my thighs. As we scooted closer together, I wrapped my legs around his. Coincidentally, our bodies lined up
right “there.” Kellan’s grin widened as he leaned in to give me a soft kiss. “Sleep well?” he asked.

My neck complaining, I shook my head. “Not really. I miss our bed.”

Kellan frowned as he shifted around; his head bumped the top of the cubby while his feet kicked the side and his elbow brushed the curtain. “Me too, I feel like a sardine in
here.”

Sighing, I laced my arms around his neck. “I suppose we don’t always have to sleep together. We might sleep better apart.”

Kellan hugged me to his bare chest, his long arms wrapping over and under my ribcage. “I’d rather go without sleep than without you.”

As we lightly kissed, Kellan’s hands slid under my tank top. Loving the feeling of his skin dancing over mine, I melded my body into his. Maybe being cramped wasn’t such a bad thing
after all, although it did lend itself to intimacy problems. We hadn’t been together much since my sister had joined the tour a couple of weeks ago. I was sort of dying to make love to
him.

I could tell that Kellan was dying too, as one of his hands followed the curve of my spine and darted beneath my underwear to rest on my backside. I stifled a groan and pressed my hips into his.
Cramped or not, we could make this work. Our kiss picked up as his hand massaged my skin. My fingers tangled in his hair, drawing him into me.

With some shuffling, cursing, and light banging on the sides of the cubby, we resituated so that Kellan was on his back and I was on top of him. There was not a lot of room, and my back almost
touched the top of the cubby. It gave me a weird feeling to know that Evan was sleeping just a few feet above me. Kellan’s knees were raised as I straddled him, and he pressed against the
back of the cubby to lift his hips. I shoved aside the thought that Matt’s head was essentially right next to Kellan’s feet.

Now that our sensitive parts were crushing together unimpeded, the rush of desire blossoming in my core spread throughout every nerve in my body like a wildfire. Not wanting to cry out, I
clamped my teeth around Kellan’s shoulder. He sucked in a breath and started pulling down my lounge pants. Damn clothes. They were difficult to get off in such a tight space, especially with
covers wrapped around us, and both of us were panting with exertion and excitement as we tried to shove them down my hips. God, why didn’t I sleep naked? With more curse words and scuffling,
we finally managed to get them around my legs. Kellan reached down and looped them off of my foot. I kicked with my other foot, not caring where my clothes ended up at this point. I thought I saw
them disappear out the cubby curtain.

I attacked Kellan’s mouth while ripping at his boxers. I wanted him so badly, I might just tear the damn things off. Stilling my needy hips, Kellan lifted his and shoved his clothes down,
but not off. That was fine with me; I just needed them out of the way. Positive I would explode any second, I pushed myself onto him once he was free. Kellan groaned and I clamped my hand over his
mouth. It was still quiet in here, and as long as it was still quiet, I could pretend that we were completely alone.

We moved together with forceful determination. I didn’t need foreplay, I didn’t need teasing. I just needed him. I was all too aware of the creaking sound we were making, the
unnatural rapidness of our breath, the seductive sound of skin on skin. There would be no way to deny what we were doing, if someone did happen to wake up. I didn’t care anymore
though—the look on Kellan’s face, the fire raging at our point of connection—that was all I let fill my mind.

As the coiling in my body started to reach an apex, I moved my fingers away from Kellan’s mouth and clamped my lips over his. Kellan’s hand came up to the back of my neck, securely
holding me in place. We whimpered between our fierce kisses. Just as I was sure I couldn’t take anymore, I felt the glory of my release as I crashed over the edge. Kellan stiffened below me,
and I knew he was feeling his own climax. I loved that we were experiencing it together. My body shook as I quietly contained the explosion shivering through me in waves. Kellan squirmed underneath
me, his eyes squeezing closed as he contained his. Somehow, the self-imposed silence made the moment even more intense.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily. I slumped in his arms as he let out a long, steady exhale. I listened for the telltale sound of movement as our breaths evened, but I
didn’t hear anything, thank God.

I cuddled with Kellan for as long as I could, but my body was fully awake now and I needed to use the facilities. I looked around for my pants before remembering that they had fallen into the
aisle. Awesome. Carefully scooting over Kellan, who took the opportunity to tickle my sides—not helping my bladder
at all
—I peeked my head out of our curtain. Since we were on
the bottom of the stack, my pants hadn’t fallen too far. As I reached out for them, I noticed that the curtain was pulled back on the cubby directly across from me. Deacon was partially
sitting up, reading a book with a soft night-light.

All of the blood drained from my face as he glanced over at me retrieving the bottom half of my pajamas. Thankfully, I was still wearing the top half. Now I remembered exactly why I didn’t
go to bed naked. As I stared in horror, Deacon lifted his hand in a small wave. It was too dark for me to know for sure if he was embarrassed or not, but his smile was appropriately sheepish.

I opened and shut my mouth like a guppy that had been yanked out of its fishbowl. What do I say? Should I apologize? Should he? What was the proper etiquette in this situation? What would Miss
Manners do? As I was floundering for something to ease the awkwardness, Deacon reached up and removed a small speaker from his ear; his long, dark hair had been hiding them from my sight. The tinny
sound of loud rock music drifted over to me as he whispered, “Did you say something?”

I instantly relaxed. He hadn’t heard anything. But Deacon wasn’t an idiot. He’d seen my pants falling to the floor, and he was staring at me picking them back up. He knew. And
I really didn’t know how long he’d been awake, reading and listening to music. We may have stirred him from sleep, and he may have turned on his music to tune us out once he realized
what we were engaged in right next to him. At least he was polite. If Griffin were across the aisle from us, he probably would have grabbed his cell phone and started recording.

Clutching my pants, I quickly shook my head and darted back into the solace of my Kellan-filled cubby. When I buried my head in his chest, Kellan asked, “Problem?”

I peeked up at him. “I
really
miss our room.”

Kellan gave me a lopsided grin. “We’ll start getting our own room at the hotel when we can.”

I took what comfort from that as I could; brief moments of privacy were better than none at all. Dressing hastily, I accidently kneed my love in the privates, making him scrunch in pain. He
glared at me as he clutched himself. “Sorry,” I whispered, kissing his cheek.

“Definitely getting our own room,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

Feeling bad and amused, I quickly left Kellan and made my way to the back of the bus to use the bathroom. I purposely kept my eyes on the tiny LED lights in the floor. I didn’t want to see
any other open cubbies. Ignorance was bliss.

By early afternoon, we were pulling into Charlotte, North Carolina; the concert tonight was at Time Warner Cable Arena. Anna was using my laptop to surf the Internet as everyone on the bus
relaxed in the lounge section. Kellan and Evan were playing poker on one side of the room with Deacon and the bassist from Holeshot, David. Thankfully, Deacon hadn’t said a word to me about
our awkward exchange this morning. Matt was having a quiet conversation on his cell phone, most likely with Rachel. The other Holeshot band member, the drummer, Ray, was playing Guitar Hero with
Griffin. Griffin was winning hands down. Like I had been for the past hour, I was impatiently waiting for Anna to finish with my computer so I could write a paragraph or two before the show. Every
time I’d asked for it back, she’d given me the “just a minute” finger. She was visiting a parenting website, though, so I didn’t push her too hard. I could go back to
my old-fashioned notebook for a little while longer.

Looking up at the thick, dreary clouds hanging low in the North Carolina sky, Anna pouted and murmured, “I miss Florida.”

After Atlanta, we’d spent some time in the Sunshine State. Miami was a big hit with my sister; even bursting at the seams pregnant, she’d had a good time. She’d been delighted
that she could sunbathe in the middle of autumn, and was even up for some club-hopping after the boys’ show. I reminded her that she was due in a couple of weeks, so maybe bumping and
grinding at a night club wasn’t the best idea. The band’s concerts were loud enough, no need for baby Maximus to be born deaf by dancing the night away in bass-thumping nightclubs. Anna
had scoffed at me, but with a big yawn had finally conceded. She’d gone on to bump and grind the night away privately with Griffin.

Giving my sister a humoring smile, I tapped my pen against my pad of paper while I thought about the way Kellan and I had reunited. I was approaching the tail end of our story, my favorite part
of it, truly, when I’d stopped living in fear and had finally accepted the fact that we were meant to be together. The moment flooded back to me, absorbing me, and my mind began to spin
faster than my pen could keep up.

Anna’s attention refocused on the computer in front of her while I whipped through an especially emotional segment of my life. After a brief moment of peace, Anna loudly snorted,
completely breaking my concentration. “What?” I asked, a little perturbed. Between her talking to me every five seconds, the loud twang of poorly played rock songs, and the good-natured
ribbing going on at the poker table—usually at Kellan’s expense—I probably would have had better luck concentrating in the comparatively quiet, but cramped, cubby.

“Did you know there are websites solely dedicated to proving Kellan’s sex tape is with Sienna?”

That question got my complete and total attention, and I set down my pad of paper with a long sigh. Well, of course there were. Seeing that she’d sucked me in, Anna twirled the laptop
around on the table so I could see the screen. Sure enough, someone had created a blog that centered around proving—without a doubt—that Kellan and Sienna had filmed themselves having
sex. What the hell?

The page was plastered with still shots of Joey’s movie. The dark, grainy images were enlarged and out of focus, but objects in the photographs were circled, and fantastical theories of
the objects’ significance were explained in detail beneath them. Seeing Kellan’s bare back while he was plunging into another woman was way more than I’d ever wanted to see. It
brought the horror of watching him film that music video fresh to my mind. Only this was worse. This was real. And I didn’t want to see anymore.