Tonight, the boys are performing for a sold-out Houston crowd, and there is still no sign of Diesel. Lily and I watch the monitor in the dressing room as the lights begin to flicker on stage, and our guys appear through the smoke. Desiree paces a few steps behind us for the hundredth time. Her Louboutin heels are getting a workout. To say she is on edge over this performance is an understatement. Her phone rings, but she quickly silences it. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying her uneasiness just a tad. She just gets under my skin with her fake niceness. I have no doubt Sevyn can pull off this stand-in for Diesel. They’ve managed to fool the band during their many switches before … Hell, I’ve even fallen for it. The crowd is already screaming down the house, and I’m sure they’ll be none the wiser.
I take a sip of the amber liquid swirling around in my glass—Macallan 18, two fingers, neat. No Jack tonight; they’ve splurged on the good stuff—whoever “they” are. The music begins eerily slow, hypnotic yet enchanting. Who in the hell is playing the piano? This is new. I take a closer look and see Keyser sitting behind the piano with his guitar strapped behind him.
“One way or another, I’m going to find you,” Sevyn’s voice pierces through the building tempo like verbalized sex. If sex was a tone, this would be it. Orgasms delivered musically. I barely notice Desiree’s pacing come to a halt until her hand is resting on our shoulders. Lily and I look at each other, but she puts a voice to what I know we’re all thinking.
“Holy shit, he’s good. Better than good,” she gushes. “How can he sound so much like Diesel, but not? It’s something else in his voice that I can’t put my finger on.”
Lily and I nod in agreement. Her phone rings again, and this time, she takes the call. She looks at us and holds up one finger before taking her call outside the dressing room.
“Important business, I guess,” Lily comments. I just shrug. I couldn’t care less.
We get lost in the guys’ performance once more. I agree that Sevyn sounds a lot like Diesel, but when you know it isn’t him up there, you can make out the subtle differences. His tone is more sultry and glides over the notes like foreplay. Even now as he teases the crowd with his bedroom eyes and unspoken promises to rock their world, you just know he hasn’t even started yet. I bet he has a whole arsenal he is just waiting to unleash.
Although I did hump his leg once at a movie theater when I was at a low point, he’s not the twin I want. My heart irrevocably belongs to Diesel, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate musical talent and his ability to fuck the notes with his voice. Diesel is as equally skilled, but his voice is more raw and in your face. An “I’m going to own all your orgasms” type of vibrato with husky inflections. His voice makes me ache and impossibly wet.
“What are you smiling about?” Lily teases.
“Just thinking about the differences between the two,” I admit.
“Between Sevyn and Diesel?”
“Mhmm.” I take a hearty sip of my whisky to hide my lustful thoughts.
“No comparison really. Both guys are phenomenal vocalists with their own special musical identity. I’m sure their fans may not pick up on the subtle differences since they both have a range of talent, but I hear it. It’s there.”
“Yeah, I was thinking that too. We know it’s not Diesel up there, so we’re listening for the variation. I can’t help but wonder, though, if anyone would consider it now that the media has shed light on the fact he has a twin?”
“Meh, I wouldn’t think so. Who’d expect them to be identical in talent? Plus, the show he’s giving right now… Who in the hell would be thinking about anything but that performance? I love Xander, but holy sex on a stick, that man gives me pause.” She wipes imaginary sweat from her forehead and apparently thinks twice about what she just admitted. “Well, you know what I mean. I’m not attracted to Diesel or anything. I—”
“Lily, it’s all right. I know what you meant. My heart belongs with the asshole twin, but that doesn’t keep me from seeing the obvious. Sevyn definitely holds his own.”
We giggle and turn to watch the rest of the show. The guys started with slow and intoxicating, then increased the tempo to cover songs showcasing Sevyn’s range. They stuck to their twists on various covers, choosing to exclude the original songs Diesel wrote. Maybe Sevyn didn’t know them well enough, but I’m guessing it was more out of respect and not wanting to fully broach on his brother’s territory.
They begin to wrap things up, and a slight tug at my heart reminds me that it’s time to go back to pretending everything is fine. Nursing my second glass of whisky, I have a nice buzz even though I’m far from intoxicated. The show gave me a small reprieve from thinking about the tension on the bus.
Desiree returns just in time to meet the guys in the dressing room and gush over their performance. She thanks Sevyn for standing in for Diesel and admits that his vocals pleasantly surprised her.
“I apologize for any doubts I may have had, Sevyn. You were amazing out there. We have a free couple of weeks here in Texas, and then our next stop is Austin week after next. I hope—” She doesn’t get to finish that statement.
“Ready to replace me with my brother after one performance, eh, Desiree?”
Holy shit! It’s Diesel. He’s back. Other than some minor swelling to his lower lip and scrapes to his right hand, he looks like his usual sexy as fuck self. One thing’s for sure … he definitely knows how to make an entrance just as well as his exit. My eyes peruse his muscular jeans-clad thighs. His red T-shirt clings against his chiseled chest and torso. He really does have the body sculpted of a god and way more swagger than any man should be allowed to possess. My pussy throbs at the sight of him, recalling the last time he was deep within my walls … his unapologetic fucking—claiming me, bending me to his will. I catalog every feature, every mannerism, easily remembering why his existence possesses me.
Desiree’s response to him abruptly interrupts my inner monolog from lustville. “Diesel!” She flushes crimson, and it’s the first time I’ve seen her tongue-tied.
“You’re back!” Gable and Keyser shout as they slap him on the back. Xander looks on silently while Sevyn gives his brother a simple chin lift in acknowledgment.
“Thanks for covering out there, but you can’t take my place,” Diesel says with an eyebrow arch that normally incinerates my panties. My lust transcends into a mixture of hurt and anger as I get over the shock of seeing him. The feelings from that night flood back like a tidal wave, overflowing my gates of suppression.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sevyn retorts.
The standoff is broken when Desiree gathers her wits. “We have some important things to discuss that unfortunately can’t wait. We need to get in front of this twin scandal shit, and your little disappearing act didn’t help. Follow me to my car,” she chastises before spinning on her heel.
Diesel takes one last look around the room, skipping over me completely, then turns to follow Desiree. He doesn’t look at all concerned about the ass chewing I’m sure is waiting for him. He just runs a single hand through his hair as he casually strolls out of the room. His return wasn’t all that warm or forthcoming, but it’s a start. He’s back. I just hope the guys can salvage their relationship—he and Xander, to be specific. The others don’t seem to have any lingering issues with him.
Will he get back on the bus tonight? Will there be more blows in a round two? I have no idea what the hell we’re all embarking on, but my battered heart can’t take much more.
Lily studies me from across the room as she helps Xander gather his things. Her unspoken words are etched in her raised eyebrows. How do I feel now that Diesel has returned? My emotions are skidding rampantly into a vortex of uncertainty. How they’ll evolve is to be determined. I follow a few steps behind the guys as they discuss how epic tonight’s performance was, careful not to poke at the elephant in the room.
“Are you staying?” Gable finally asks as we board the bus parked out back.
Sevyn quickly glances around the bus, but Desiree and Diesel are nowhere to be found. “For now,” he answers hesitantly. “You have your front man back, so I don’t want to be in the way.”
“We still don’t know what he’s thinking or if he plans to stick around,” Keyser points out.
“That’s not the vibe I got from the brevity of our conversation. We’re already on bad terms, and I don’t want to add to it.”
“What exactly happened between you two? I mean, we know about the news crap, but what did you tell him to make him go apeshit?” Keyser pries.
And there it is. The million-dollar question that I wouldn’t mind knowing the answer to as well. Things were dire, but the implosion only occurred after their talk in the bedroom.
“It’s personal and not open for discussion. Sorry, guys, I’ll stay as long as I’m needed, but if my brother gets back on this bus and asks me to leave, then I’m out.”
Gable and Keyser nod their heads in understanding. Xander is busy looking for something to snack on, and Lily has taken a seat in the corner—arms crossed and a pout on her thin lips. Were she and my brother fighting again?
“Are you joining us on the other bus, Sevyn?” Keyser inquired.
“Nah, I’m good. I think I’m going just crash and see what the future holds in the morning.”
Reckless Ambition didn’t perform tonight, but according to Keyser, their bus would be arriving any minute to follow them to their next stop. They’re renting a beach house for the next two weeks in Galveston since they’re missing the Alabama lake house.
“Xander?” Keyser questions.
“Not tonight. I’m going to stay here with Lily.”
“Pussy,” he mumbles under his breath before he follows Gable off the bus.
The smile on Lily’s face looks like it may just crack her face. So that was why she was all pouty. She didn’t want Xander on that other bus, and I don’t blame her. He carries the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches he made for them along with a glass of milk. The scene before me is so cheesy, but it still inflicts jealousy. Something so simple, yet so thoughtful and sweet. That’s the brother I’m familiar with—only I get his alter ego apparently.
It’s nearly one in the morning now. Gus and Stewart board the bus just as I decide to make my own PB & J sandwich. I stop spreading the jelly when Diesel boards behind them. Again, he looks straight past me to find his brother sprawled out on the sofa.
“A word, brother.”
That’s it. A simple summons. He spins on his heel and heads to the bedroom with Sevyn in tow. This has deja vu written all over it. Are they going to pummel the shit out of each other? Who will intervene this time? Surely not Xander. His fucks for Diesel at the moment are in the negatives, and it’s not like Lily or I could help. My hands shake as I will them to finish making my sandwich—listening for elevated voices or signs of trouble. Should I grab Gus and Stewart from the front of the bus now? The bus starts to move, and that idea dissolves. Five minutes pass, and so far, there are no signs of a struggle. After I only manage to eat half of my sandwich, the door finally flings open, and Diesel climbs into the bunk above mine. He’s changed into gray sweatpants and an old band tee. Sevyn heads straight back to the sofa where he was lying before. They’re both going to bed without another word to anyone. What does this mean? Well, at least they didn’t kill each other.
I trash the rest of my sandwich—my appetite gone. I grab a change of night clothes to take a shower. Maybe if I take long enough, Diesel will be asleep by the time I get to my bunk. He looks at me for the first time as I pass him, only to roll over and turn his back to me. So the silent treatment is how we’re going to play it? So be it. I’ll see his silent treatment and raise it with a fuck off. So childish, ugh!
Once I’m in the shower, all my bravado evaporates. Instead, I let my mind slip back to a better time. I envision his godly physique and how it felt for him to possess me for the very first time. His vulgar promise to worship my pussy and fulfill all the fantasies I didn’t know I had are the opening act to my escape.
We’re chest to chest, and the heat from his contact is scorching. He gives me a wicked smile before bringing his lips to mine. This kiss is so soft. Our tongues slowly meet in a sensual dance that builds the ache between my thighs. He parts my legs with one of his jeans-clad muscular thighs, and I desperately rub myself against him for the friction. He deepens the kiss while grinding against me. I swear I could come from his kiss and dry humping alone. He nips at my lips and immediately licks away the pain. My body trembles now for a different reason than nerves.
“Hmmm. Patience, baby.”
Placing gentle kisses along my neck, he trails down to my breasts. He gives them each attention with just the right amount of licking and nibbling. So I see he is a nibbler, and it is sexy as fuck. He continues south, and I know where he’s heading next. I brace myself as he takes that first lick across my clit.
“Fucccccck,” I moan. My thighs tighten on their own accord around his head, but he isn’t having it.
“Let me in.” He pushes my legs apart while simultaneously sucking on my nub.
He sucks, then nibbles in a frenzy so enthralling, I feel a sensation of release on the precipice. I grab his hair as I ride the fuck out of his face with wild abandonment. Diesel is right there with me. He pushes his tongue deep and works me toward that orgasm my body so desperately needs. I squirt so hard my whole body shakes. Diesel looks up at me, so proud of himself. In one quick instant, he rids himself of his jeans. Damn, he is commando.
He takes the condom he pulled from his pocket and slowly rolls it over his hard cock. He is giving me a show. And oh what a beautiful cock it is—pink perfection. The length and girth are intimidating, but I will take every inch. I watch his hand as he strokes it a few times.
“I want your lips around my dick, but right now, I can’t wait for a second longer to be inside you,” he admits.
My legs open in invitation, and he doesn’t hesitate to accept. He positions himself at my entrance and teases me with a few strokes with just the head.
“Stop teasing me,” I plead.
“So greedy.” He winks.
I’m about to object, but then he slams into me, and the words are lost on my tongue. He stills briefly, allowing me to savor his fullness. He stretches me to capacity, and it feels amazing. He eases back and slams into me again. I whimper at the heavenly assault and claw at his back, desperate for him to go deeper. He pounds into me a few more times before alternating his thrusts with a slower grind.
“Are you okay in there?” Lily asks on the other side of the locked door, bringing me back to the here and now. My middle finger pauses on my clit. I was so close to orgasming; my whimpers must have gotten away from me.
“I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay. Try not to use all the hot water.”
I don’t answer. I’m desperate to chase down the orgasm that got away from me, but the reality of what I’m doing decides to fuck off that quest. Here I am, masturbating to the memory of a man who has only looked through me since his return. A man who openly threw me under the bus to my brother, lit a match to the proverbial bridge as he walked out, and didn’t even look back at the flames. I’m pretty fucking pathetic. Ugh. Okay, I guess I won’t be giving him my nut. I let the water run cool over my heated skin and chastise myself for wanting to cry. I’m stronger than this. I can’t keep giving in to the ambivalence. The shit that I’ve had to get over was much more detrimental than any emotional yo-yo that he can yank me on. I’ve survived physical and verbal abuse, so this should be a cakewalk. He will not win.
When I step out of the shower, I realize I’ve indeed used all the hot water. Maybe I should go back up front and chill with Lily until it reheats. Sadly, I recognize the stall tactic even as the thought crosses my mind. I will not cower. So what if he’s still awake? I change into my sleep clothes and head straight to my bunk. Climbing into bed, I turn and face the wall, proud of myself for taking some of my power back. That is, until his familiar virile scent invades my senses. It taunts me, invoking more memories that I try to push out of my mind. Some of my resolve dissipates, and sadistic sadness is there, ready to fill the void, so I let the fucking stubborn tears fall. One day at a time. The tears he rips from me are limited, and once my heart rids itself of him, he will not be allowed back in. That mission begins tomorrow. Tonight, I’ll let my body purge itself in the form of tears. Book … Jack … repeat. My time on this bus will serve one purpose. Get the story. There is no Diesel and me, so the sooner I acclimate to what that picture looks like, the better. A few sniffles escape me, and I curse them. He changes position above me, so I know he heard them. Not that he cares. I let the remaining tears wrack my body until sleep eventually wins out.