Why didn't I go with Zo to the hotel?

We caught up to the other team's total points, making it a two-way tie. Team Broadway wasn't that far ahead of us in total votes. At the end of tonight's show, most of the cast took the limo bus to the hotel for the after-party. My gaze tracked Zoey linked up with her new friends and her back was only five steps in front of me. Her dark black dyed hair joined the three blondes that welcomed her into the group near the bus. Zo, Camille, Brenda, and Roberta took pictures with fans. The crowd closed around them, getting more excited, and Zoey looked like one of the famous people. Real famous, not Z list YouTube famous. I smiled to myself but also took a step back from it. It was just one, but the distance between us grew by my own doing. I'm not even sure how one simple step grew to be so big. One step became two before I knew it. The idea of going back to the hotel with the reality tv cameras until morning had me fighting an inward heavy sigh. It simply wasn't something I was looking forward to.

A third step back was so unconscious that I didn't know I took it until my back bumped against a hard chest. My eyes snap up, locked with that amber whiskey-colored nebula of possibilities. The name Asher isn't even a whisper from my lips as coiling heat floods my core.

But still, I can't put my finger on why I didn't go with Zoey and her friends? And, more importantly, why am I listening to uncompleted songs? I keep turning the idea around in my head as if turning it upside down might shake the stars out of the box of the thought. With all the answers pouring out but none are the correct star. Wheelz is on Asher's fucking Kells tour bus, listening to some of his work in progress. WHEELZ!

Asher's tour bus door is locked and we are in the little studio with no windows and the world is blocked out. It's just Ash, me, and the music. He sits in front of the computer and soundboard. A mic, guitar, and small keyboard are within reaching distance. On the table next to him is his journal, rich amber whiskey, and the open skinny folio cigar holder. But the problem is there's no more left. It always seems like he's either having one or about to have one when he meets me. As if the cigar he told me about isn't simply a bad habit. It could be like strikes and he's crossed out five with a slash no more left. I was excited when he offered to let me listen.

The beat was the one in from the stranger danger van when he gave me a ride home. Also, the riff from the night I got my tattoo. It played with my senses, the blending of the two. Out of the ten songs I heard so far, this one had the most pull to it. It had this sensuous promise when you mixed the two sounds. Unexpected snap to it with that dirty riff burning up the sound.

It was a little off from the beat I taught him in the Van. There's a rhythm to it that he's not hearing. I lean harder against the wall of the studio. It was close, but that wasn't it. We played a few other songs together, just random jams until we stumbled into this. It was back to the van beat. And when I thought about that, I couldn't help but think about the hot kiss after he dropped me off. Then my mind found a way to get even filthier because it's in the gutter now. Once it's in the gutter, I'm fully committed back to the couch in the front of the tour bus. Where I damn near crawled up to him and I was pissed when he stopped after he made me cum. PUSSY WAS NOT DONE!

It's like I'm always on edge around him. One minute was cool and the next minute I'm ready to climb him. It isn't a matter of him being hot, it's the way he thinks about things. The way he added on while we were jamming together. It's like his mind is wrapping around me. I have a singing rapping and I can do flow style. He has his guitar riffs. Sometimes he sings, sometimes he flows.

Asher changes a few settings on the laptop. His hand strokes over his wireless guitar and his notes show up in the music program's many tracks. Asher's face forms a slight frown of disappointment as he fiddles with the beat again. His instincts were right, the beat wasn't inputted correctly. He slightly changes that nasty guitar riff from the night he tasted me. A shiver runs down my spine and I can feel his phantom touch. I've been ruining myself nightly with thoughts about that touch. And it couldn't wear out my mental spank bank. I was avoiding him, but I was on fire at the same time.

"Sabali, can you help me out?" Asher smiles at me. I lean over his shoulder, humming out the song from the Van so he could hear it again. Then I tap out the beat rhythmically on the small desk next to the laptop. He makes some changes to the program.

"It's still not right." I'd change it for him on the computer, but the problem is that if he can't hear it himself, it doesn't matter. Sometimes you just need to feel the beat to hit it correctly. He would be able to rearrange the sexy guitar riff, so it sounded right with it in the first place. I bite my lip. "The way my grandmother taught me beats was by contact, so I would get it right." I offered the option, and it was so fucking embarrassing. My hand covers my hot face.

"Sabali?" Asher asks.

....... Silence hangs...

"Sabali?" The studio is so small my thigh is practically against his side. Even with the studio chair and everything else in the room, there's really no room to hide. So, why am I standing with a stupid hand over my face like somehow I could hide from what I said? Am I fucking eight?

"Birdy?" I giggle uncontrollably, nutty as fuck. Asher moves my hand away from my face.

"Yes?"

"If that is how you learned, then I want to give it a try." He moves me up against the desk with the back of my thick thighs rubbing against the rounded edge of the desk. I am sandwiched between him, his guitar, and the desk. We are so close together I can feel his hot breath against my dark skin. Give it a try... The words were a little too intoxicating. Maybe it was being inches away from him with his thigh pressed against me. His smokey whiskey smells all around me.

Ok, I can do this. My shaky hand pressed just over his heart. The rich fabric of his dress shirt and the hard, expansive muscle under my hand have my mind racing. Asher has a broad chest, and I always said he doesn't look like a singer, he looks more like a boxer. He's built thick and wait wait wait...... slowdown wheelz. This is reality. Don't just fondle his hard chest like a pervert. Were jamming together. My wandering gaze connects with his and his hazel are dancing. Is he laughing in his head at me? A half cocky grin spread across his face. That grin is becoming so familiar.

"...Right the beat," I tap the beat out against his chest. "That's the original, but... I think this works better with the rift." I tap out another beat and I hum the rift to the newer version of the beat. Asher's expression changes. He tilts his head a little when he's puzzled. I felt like I learned something new for next time. Asher takes the guitar off and the strap goes over his head. Then he removes his dress shirt. Asher's wide bare chest covered in those lush inky tats is on display and my mind goes a little hazy. My perv is caught unprepared for the feast in front of me. He reaches behind me, pulling the guitar back on. Then he moves my hand back over his hard peck. His heartbeat bumps against my hand and I can't breathe as my brain checks out.

"Do the original one again?" Asher asks.

"Oh, right sure?" I answer back with a question. His request slowly trickles into my mind. So much heat is coming from his body. He smells so good. Whiskey and burned honey mixed together. It's a luxurious smell mixed together with hot man. I take deep breaths, replacing the missing air in large lungfuls. The thoughts trickle in thick and syrupy. I tighten my legs together, but they are blocked by his meaty thigh. My head lolled back with his intoxicating heat and smoky scent. As my breathing gets faster, I take deep pulls of it into me. I lean forward to get more of that whiskey and smoke. My head rested against his chest, my hand tapped out the beat, and this time he followed it.

Asher's guitar hit the beat right. I smiled into his wide chest, but my core burned with our closeness. I wanted him in a way I didn't know I could want anyone. I turn my head to the side, watching my dark fingertip tap out the beat on his chest. He made little changes on the computer behind him until the beat was correct in the program. Then he brought his guitar up and matched music to it. Not the dirty, nasty rift from our night together, but something that worked. The music played a second round. The need to ground my pussy against his meaty thigh had almost all my focus. Trap with that hard thigh pressed against my core that was heating up, madness. Need. I felt drunk, completely intoxicated, and not a drop of his whiskey hit my lips. We need to stop, so there's not another misunderstanding on my part. I stop the beat against his chest and his guitar stops with it.

I took precious moments to savor this feeling against his bare chest and I was going to pull away. It took a strength of willpower I didn't know I had to begin to move my hand away from his hard tattooed peck. His hand covers mine, stopping me from pulling away.

"Show me the other beat Birdy."

I moan at his request, half out of my mind with lust and need. I couldn't even nail down what the fuck was wrong with me it. Everything was all pent up. We go right to the edge all the time, but we don't finish. It's been happening again and again with him and me. I get little releases well. The last time we were together together it was more than a little, but it didn't feel complete. It wasn't us together, give and take. It was me taking it and him watching me take it. Which was sexy, but it felt empty at the same time.

Maybe that's what is turning me on right now? It's one of the few times he let me in. One of the few times I can see straight down and he can see straight down into me, too. Where we get to meet and exchange together openly. Were we able to dance and make something together even if it's a product of the mind, like a song?

I tried to clear my head. Then rein my body back into something that isn't so blatantly sexual. Foggy hot haze clouds everything inside me. I was out of breath, as if I ran for hours. It was a losing battle. My hips were making little greedy circles. His thick muscle thigh lodged between my legs, a playground for my desire. Pussy was off and running, thinking, without me to help. The Ole girl wasn't playing around. Grinding herself again and again against Asher's meaty thigh. His muscles bunched under me at each one of her passing. My thin panties were leaving very little to the imagination of his thigh under me. The wetness shifted splayed open like butterfly's wings. My hard wet clit was against his dress pants through my panties, having a wonderful time. Nope, pussy wasn't playing around.

If I looked up at him now, I'd have to acknowledge what was going on. That would mean I'd have to either stop or say something about it, which would interrupt the pussy. That, in turn, would really suck right now. I moan into his chest muffling sound. Then I did the only thing I could do. I tapped out the other beat on his chest. The one that went well with that sexy, dirty rift. I knew he followed because he set up the beat in a loop through the speakers. He caught the groove better. Then he laid down the demo rift. The tip of Asher's nose tickled my hair on top of my head and he shifted the guitar part on the track. It loops back again and again as he makes small changes, adding to it.

The beat reached the bottom of my feet. It felt like it was diving into me when it was just right. I corrected the little note in the program so it was in the right place. It wasn't like the one in the van when he drove me back to my car that first night. This time it was more driving, more insistence. It matches that nasty guitar riff and tries to entice the sound. I shifted on his lap, moving, thumping my palm against the hard muscle of his chest. His heartbeat thumps out a fast rhythm of its own that didn't match the sexy beat.

My heart was pounding out of my chest, and I couldn't suck down enough air. Each lungful was filled with more spice, more smoke, and more whiskey. More.. more... more... The song loop in an unless playlist as my core sizzled. If I keep my eyes closed, it won't stop? He says he's a guy like any other guy, right? Just a guy. I need him to be just a guy today. My hips circle his thigh faster.

"Birdy?"

"Asher don't stop," I say. The words come out of me like a painful whisper. Along with it is the reminder that every other time he always stops. He's always angry too. I don't think it's at me, but it's there. When we didn't keep going when he was hard on the tour bus, it wasn't about me. It felt like he was whole. Things weren't about me and he wasn't rejecting me. He was rejecting, whatever that thing that made him angry was. That thing that put so much pain into his eyes. I get it. I'm not that conceited to think that his hesitancy has anything to do with me. We have a very short history with each other. I really do, but it's hard to stop myself from feeling like it's me. Maybe it's a tiny stupid voice but I might not be able to have more with him but I... at least want right now.

I lift my gaze to Asher. His eyes were always a mysterious whiskey-colored hazel, nebulous of color and possibilities. Shifting back from him on the table, I opened my legs. I sigh and try to get control of myself. Hot tears hoover just out of the reach of my eyes. I blink in a vain attempt to stop the tears that feel like they are coming. Asher reaches behind me next to the laptop. The sound of foil from his wallet and he puts the little package next to my leg on the desk. My heart beats out of my chest.

"Birdy," Asher's thumb brushes against the little bird on my neck, and my whole body shivers.

My dark hand splayed across his chest and it was like my hand was blending with the ink. It was as if my hand belonged over his heart. Was always supposed to be feeling his heartbeat. His thumb didn't stop moving against that little birdy on my neck. My head was too woozy and putting my hot head against Asher's chest didn't help at all. Waited for far too long. My core clenched and released hard with my head pressed against his.

"Birdy?" I felt his smile above me. With each swipe of his thumb against my neck, it's a live wire and I sit at the edge. A cauldron was unable to do anything but overflow. Sometimes I like watching those ends of the Internet YouTube videos when I can't sleep. Where you let the algorithm take you wherever to see if it will give you the right thing. I remember an artist pouring hot dark copper over Ashwood and its bird vines into the wood. The black vines looked like tattoos. I shifted my hand against Asher's chest. It still startled me how his tattoos and my dark hand blended together perfectly. The problem, though, was that too much copper burnt right through the wood.

"Birdy..." He says to me again.

"If we stop, I'm going to kill you. Pussy will murder you."

"Wheelz and now 'Pussy'?"

"Yes, she will murder you. I promise she'll kill you if you don't fuck me." I was beyond reason. I couldn't take this on and off, hot and cold. It was the breaking point. Shivers still wracked my body. I was seconds from going back into the main tour bus and diddling myself in the bathroom to finish this off. His chest shook with his chuckles.

"Shouldn't it be Puzy?" He spells it out for me. It has a Z, and I smack his thick chest.

"Asshole," he laughs harder at me. I feel that big smile above me and it's funny how much I've come to enjoy his smiles.

"Birdy, it's been a while for me." He said it like it's been a while was a foreign concept for him. Since he's always surrounded by women because of Tucker. Yeah, I guess that could be.

Asher lifts my chin, holding my face in his big hands. Cupping my cheeks as if it was a feather and he could break it. My eyes open to a view of his smile. I saw no anger. Just two stunning nebulous that so captivated me. What a beautiful sight. Asher leans into me and kisses me. The kiss starts off so sweet. His lips brush against mine for entry and I open to him. My legs were wide, my skirt bunched. And his heated body standing close before me. My hand stuck like gravity on his exposed chest, unable to move from his racing heartbeat. I smiled into his kiss. A part of me tried not to bounce up and down when one of his hands came down to hook into my panties and pull them down.

I'm a little sad to take my hands from his heart. Something about it was comfortable, the beat as fast as mine racing with each touch. We sped up the tipping point each and finally, I could just burn. As quickly as possible, my dress and bra followed my panties to the ground with his jeans. That spicy music is still looping around and around. My arms wrap around Asher as his nose rubs against the bird on my neck.

He puts on the condom, rubbing his head back and forth against my opening. I'm beyond ready and my hips shift to tracking that lovely fat head between my thighs. Worry slid into his expression and a part of me hoped to the Lawd he didn't stop again because I couldn't take it. Then something came to me.

"It's been a long time for me too, more than three years." That worry wasn't moving from him. Bringing up that dumpster sex I had on prom night wasn't something I wanted to think about, even for a second. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either. "Let's..." He nodded, and I watched him so closely. His thumb on my neck is tattooed like a lifeline. I gobbled up his eyes, drinking me in, his expression widening with surprise as seated himself in me. That smile I loved spreading across his beautiful features. Fathead pushed through my delicate fold and it hurt. I groan against him. Moved my hips from side to side on his thick length wedged within me. The thick vein in his neck bunched up the deeper he got into me. As if he was holding back a supernova. I was creamy wet, but I wasn't as ready as I thought I was.

"Are you ok?" He asked. I didn't answer him. Shifting, leaning into the touch of his thumb at my neck, but it was too much. I was too full. He waited, bless his heart. Because I needed it.

He held me close, touching my body with so much care. Asher's rough thumb grazes across my nipple and with each pass I lift to his touch. Heat built at those swollen points. My core grasped at him, pulling him in. My legs wrap tightly around him. His other hand at my neck and that thumb working back and forth across my neck.

"Ready?" I was pulling close, fucking myself on his hard cock while he held me in place. Trying to get every fucking inch as deep as I could as fast as I could and the heat was building in my belly. I was beyond ready. I was ready four weeks ago. Now, I was burning up. The shivers were back in force. He pinches my nipple, and I moan at his touch. I was too far gone. Too close to those two stars in space, I love so much. Burning up, fucking up to that cock beyond ready, I had no words.

A sharp meaty slap on my ass went straight to my core and caught my attention. I groaned at him, but his hand was on my hip, stopping me. Keeping me in place. Stopping me from what I needed.

Asher's cocky smile, the one that's meant to get in trouble. Oh, he is a fucking certified baddie. A bad bad man.

"Are you ready?" I looked down between him and my sticky pleasure coated all over his hard cock lodged deep in me. His smile gets even more prominent when he follows my eyes to where we are already joined up. "Say it."

"Yes," the word was more moaning than actual words.

"Tell me Birdy," he said. I closed my eyes because it hurt. It hurt so bad him, not fucking me, and he felt so good, so deep at the same time. He slapped my ass again, and I felt that jiggle go straight where I needed it, but it wasn't enough, not near enough. "No, look at me." And I did in those hazel whiskey eyes that looked like he was holding back a supernova. That he was controlling himself so he didn't hurt me. So much care in these eyes that he was making sure I was ready for him. It shouldn't have, it really shouldn't have, but my stupid heart cracked open a little bit for him. Lust flooded me with his care. Lust wanted, all of it racing faster than I could handle any of it.

"Fuck me." It was staccato words that were rolled out in more of a whimper than said. That supernova that was peering out at me from those hazel eyes of his exploded and he fucked me. He fucked me as I needed it. He fucked me like he'd been waiting, starving as badly as I had. Laying me out like I was only ever gonna be his. He fucked me like he was ruining me for all others and he was, damn it, he was.

Asher had a meaty hold on my ass. He was pulling me into him with greedy lust-filled lunges. His hazel gold eyes never left mine. The intensity of his regard was so much to take because my mind sees things it shouldn't see. Things I want to be there but should know better. I berate myself as my core keeps heating up for him, being burnt by the star.

Burning.

Too bright, my eyelids flutter shut to block out the sun.

Asher bites my lower lip and that cocky grin is against my lips."When I fuck you. I want to see you." I spill my moan into his mouth. But comply, even more, vulnerable and completely exposed in the light. He brings me in close and I need it. My heels spurring him for more. His powerful, thick thighs worked so hard. The sloppy sound of us together was too far gone. Beyond ready to open and give him that heat that's been building inside of me, too. To explode. Asher lips my lower lip right over the teeth marks. His hot whiskey spice breathed all the air I could breathe, making my head even lighter.

"Are you going to sing for me, Birdy?" I don't know why those words set me to the next level, but they did. I wanted to sing for him, just for him, only for him ever. But something stops me. I knew what it was. I wanted to close my eyes, so I didn't have to let him see. So, I could get there and not show him the stupid part in my heart that cared about him deeply. That really liked just a guy, Asher. The part that would have loved to go on a real date. That boring square stayed inside the lines of the music teacher who cared for him deeply. So, I sat on the edge of the universe between heaven and hell. On the precipice of ecstasy, while Asher worked me past all coherent thought. Beyond thought living up to everything I thought he would be and more.

Asher whispers sexy, sexy dirty things because maybe he's just as gone as I was. But I could only catch snippets of it. How sexy I looked taking his cock. How I looked at him and it makes him, but the words were too low. Too fast and I was too gone.

Blackness played at the edges of my vision as I forgot to breathe, just like the first time we met.

"Birdy.........you're safe, sing for me." All the heat in his closeness and everything finally... I let go, exploding on him, giving him my everything. My core grasped at his hardness, deep in me. He hits the end of me stuffed, seating himself fully. Both his hands are with big handfuls of my meaty ass, keeping me as close to him as possible. Asher followed me over with a loud yes.

"That's my Birdy," he says, out of breath. I milked every precious bit out of him as our hips didn't stop moving together. Until that space blackness at the edges became full of darkness for me.

...

Light. Blink, dark. Blink Light.

"Don't do that again. You scared the shit out of me." He held me feather tight. As if he wanted to squeeze the hell out of me but wasn't. Just tight enough to know I was sitting in his lap in his arms. I forgot to breathe, and my head was still a little fuzzy. But I lifted my hand to his cheek. Why does he always touch me as if I'm a feather about to break at any time? He wraps the puffy blanket tighter around my naked body. Pulling me into his body with such care.

"I'm ok. We're ok." I said to him. I kept my hand right on the side of his cheek where he needed it. I hate that worried expression. "We're ok."

He doesn't answer me and he holds me tighter. That expression doesn't move an inch from his face. "I promise Asher, I'm ok, we're ok." The world gets darker at the edges. I repeat the mantra again until that worry slips from his face and a hint of a smile at the corners sneaks in. The mischievous one that I liked. The mantra one more time to him each time I said it, the better he looked. But I knew this was going to be the last time because I was letting the world go dark as I cuddle into him.