Ian

We’re getting ready to head out to the venue for the first night of our tour and I’m not nearly as nervous as I expected I would be. That probably has something to do with Chelsea being here. With how good things are between us right now. She’s putting on mascara, doing vocal warmups in front of the mirror, and it’s such a simple thing, but it’s the best. I don’t even think she realizes I’m watching her. But being like this, both of us in my hotel room gearing up for a show, comfortable with each other and in our own skin, it’s amazing. It’s better than anything I thought I could ever have. It’s natural and domestic and easy. Nothing in my life has ever really been easy, but being with Chelsea is. There’s no drama or fighting. Just us being ourselves and enjoying each other.

“I don’t know why you’re putting on makeup when you know they’re going to re-do it backstage,” I say, leaning against the door frame.

She shrugs. “Never know who’s going to be taking pictures between here and there.”

She goes back to her warmups, but her voice cracks and I grin at her in the mirror.

“What?” she asks, her eyes snapping to meet my reflection, looking annoyed in that adorable way she does. It’s so hard to take her seriously when she’s so freaking cute.

“Your voice is sounding a little scratchy there, Chelsea. I wonder why that could be,” I say, waggling my eyebrows at her. Her face flushes faintly, but then she rolls her eyes. “Something with your throat?”

“Don’t say things like that in front of other people, okay? I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”

I laugh. “Honey, I’m pretty sure announcing we’re together has tarnished that reputation beyond repair. Do you want a lozenge?”

She makes a face, her nose crinkling. “No thanks. Those things always taste terrible. I’ll deal with the scratchiness.”

“Mine aren’t. I promise,” I say, rifling through my suitcase. “Here, wild cherry. None of that chamomile, lemon, eucalyptus bullshit.”

She looks at it suspiciously, but finally pops it in her mouth, rolling it around thoughtfully. “Okay, that’s pretty good,” she says.

“Told you,” I say triumphantly. She just rolls her eyes at me again and I kiss the top of her head and wander back to the other room of the suite to wait for her.

She comes back out pouting. “Can I have another lozenge?”

“Sure.” I head back to my suitcase and show her where I keep them. “Help yourself whenever.”

She takes one from the box and unwraps it, crumpling the wrapper and tossing it in the trashcan across the room as she pops the lozenge in her mouth. Then she looks at me uncertainly before taking another lozenge out of the box and surreptitiously stuffing it in her pocket like she’s being sneaky. I laugh and lean down to kiss her, her lips sweet and cherry-flavored.

“What’s mine is yours, I mean it.”

She grins and kisses me, but my kiss was sweet and innocent. Hers is anything but. She’s breathless and panting by the time I finally manage to pull away from her, my jeans already unbuttoned by her nimble fingers.

“Later,” I promise. “Right now, we have a show to get to.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouts, slipping her hand under my fly, making me suck in a breath.

I grab her wrist to still her hand. “I’m plenty of fun, sweetheart, and you already know that, but right now we have an audience of adoring fans getting ready for us.”

She sighs and pulls her hand back, letting me fix my pants. “Fine.”

“Whatever happened to that sweet and innocent Chelsea Garten I met before? I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t be sticking her hands down my pants while we should already be in a cab.”

She gives me a mischievous look that sends my blood surging to my cock. “Whoever told you I was sweet and innocent didn’t know me at all.”

“Clearly,” I mutter as she heads toward the door, the sway of her hips pure temptation incarnate.

When we get to the venue, Rosa’s already in a state, pacing around looking annoyed.

“I hope this doesn’t become a habit, Chelsea, showing up late. It’s very unprofessional.”

“Sorry, that was my fault, Rosa. Won’t happen again,” I say, jumping to her defense. Chelsea shoots me a look, and Rosa looks at me like I’m something unpleasant under her shoe, but when she turns back to Chelsea, she’s much nicer to her.

“Well, hurry in to hair and makeup; we don’t have time to waste.” Rosa marches off somewhere backstage, with another mission in mind, and Chelsea whirls on me.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Do what?” I don’t know why she seems so mad all of the sudden, but I can see the fire in her eyes.

“You took the blame for me. I was the reason we were late.”

“So?” I shrug. “She already hates me. No reason for her to be pissed at both of us.”

Chelsea’s mouth falls into a thin, firm line. “Well, don’t do it again. I can fight my own battles, Ian.” And then she’s heading off back to the dressing rooms and I’m left feeling like I just got scolded for something I didn’t even know what was wrong. But I know that women have their own weird interactions with each other and things have been tense between Chelsea and her manager for a while. I wouldn’t like it if she decided to step in with Merrill, so now I feel guilty.

But when we meet in the wings, she’s all smiles. She’s wearing this sparkly black dress that hugs her perfectly and her hair is done in loose messy curls. She looks way more rock and roll than country and I dig it. But then I remember I’m in trouble.

“Chelsea, I’m sorry about—”

“No, don’t. I’m just getting annoyed with Rosa and I need to deal with that on my own. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I shouldn’t have presumed. I—”

“Shh,” she says, pressing a kiss to my lips. “We’ve got a show to put on. It’s fine, I promise.”

And there’s no more time to argue because we’re being announced on stage. At the last minute, I think to wipe the lipstick off my lips and jog out on stage after her to the cheering audience.

After that, nothing goes wrong. The cues are perfect, our voices are working together better live than they did even on the album, and by the time we go into our closing number, I know this is the best damn show either of us has ever put on.

And Chelsea’s feeling it too. Before going into the last song, she’s already eying me like she’s ready to finish what we started back at the hotel. That song, with those words and the memories of us writing it together, only make that longing more intense.

When the final chord plays, I don’t even think about it. I sweep Chelsea into my arms and kiss her with everything I’ve got. The crowd roars behind us, going absolutely nuts, but I don’t even really notice them. All I notice is Chelsea in my arms, Chelsea’s soft lips parting for me, her tongue teasing me, her hands sliding up my chest to clutch at my shoulders.

I can still hear the crowd around us, but suddenly they’re much quieter and I look and see the curtain’s come down.

“Well, I guess that’s one way to end a show,” I say with a big grin.

Chelsea’s flushed and breathless and she doesn’t say anything, she just grabs my hand and drags me backstage—and I do mean drags, I can barely keep my feet under me—to her dressing room. And the moment we’re in there, we’re kissing again, hands roaming over each other, her dress pushed up around her hips while she works at my zipper frantically. It’s like there’s a bomb to defuse in my pants and it’s going to detonate if she can’t get them undone in the next ten seconds.

In all honesty, that’s not far from the truth. There is going to be an explosion of some kind if she gets her way, that’s for sure.

I’m on my knees in front of her with my tongue on her clit, her fingers clawing at my scalp as she squirms and moans against me, when there’s a knock on the door.

“Shit, Rosa,” she hisses, shoving her dress back down to cover herself. I stand up fast too, zipping my fly and grabbing a nearby towel to wipe her juices from my face.

She takes one look over to me to make sure I’m presentable and I nod.

“Come in!” she says, flopping on the couch, looking casual like we weren’t about to just be fucking in her dressing room.

The door opens, but it’s not Rosa. It’s Kandy, with her big smile and notebook in hand.

“Hey guys! Great show. Mind if I ask you some questions about opening night?”

I can tell that Chelsea is hesitant, but I know if we just get this over with, we can get back to doing what we were doing. If we refuse, Kandy’s just going to go to Merrill and then it’s going to be this whole big thing and I really just want to get back to having my tongue buried in Chelsea’s pussy, so I’ll deal with the reporter.

“Yeah, of course, come on in,” I say, sitting on the arm of the couch. Kandy beams at me and flounces in to sit right next to me, between me and Chelsea. Chelsea’s glaring into the back of her head, but I send her a pleading look over Kandy’s shoulder. Just a few questions and this will all be over with. My silent communication must have worked, because Chelsea’s glare fades and she slumps back into the couch looking merely annoyed.

“So Ian, what’s it like being on tour again? Did you miss the suites and jets and tour buses?” Kandy asks, her back fully turned to Chelsea.

“That’s never really been the fun part of touring for me. I like getting out on the street, meeting the fans, connecting with real people. That’s been great so far. I love putting on a good show for my fans.”

“That’s what makes you such a legend,” Kandy says, leaning in closer to me, batting her eyes. I don’t know what game she’s playing. Chelsea’s right there and she knows about us. So she must just be trying to irritate her.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I laugh. “I just feel really fortunate that so many people like what I do and have stuck with me through the hard times. I feel very blessed to be able to do what I love for a living.”

Kandy grins, scribbling notes down.

“But they’re definitely not all here for me. Chelsea’s got a huge following that have been really supportive of our collaboration. It’s been great finding all these new fans.”

Kandy turns around on the couch, her back now to me as she faces Chelsea. “I’m sure you’re enjoying the fame boost from being hitched to the superstar over here, huh?”

I frown, my brow furrowing. For one, Chelsea’s probably a bigger name than I am. For two, that’s not even a question she can really answer.

“Uh… Yeah, Ian’s fans have really opened their arms to me. There’s normally some animosity between country and rock fans, but everyone’s been amazing and the response has been fabulous.”

“And what do you say to the rumors that you’re just with Ian to edge up your good-girl image some?” Kandy probes, her voice so sweet it’s turning bitter. It’s crazy to suggest that Chelsea’s using me for her image when this whole thing started so I could use her for my image. Not that Kandy ever found it fit to ask me about that.

But I remember Chelsea getting angry earlier, telling me not to fight her battles for her, so I don’t say anything even though I want to.

“I’d say those rumors are completely ridiculous. There are a million other ways for me to edge up my image if that’s what I was trying to achieve.”

“I see,” Kandy says, clearly not sounding convinced as she hastily scribbles in her notebook.

“So why did you come back on tour after so long? And are you worried about it hurting your family more?”

“Excuse me?” Chelsea squeaks, her eyes wide, anger flushing her cheeks.

“You do know, speculation is that your brother overdosed after you brought him on tour with you and that your entire family blames you for his death. Surely they’re not happy about you being on the road again in this world, inviting that lifestyle back in…” Kandy trails off, but I hear the implication. I’m “that lifestyle.” I’m almost positive.

Chelsea looks positively shell-shocked though. Her mouth is hanging agape, her eyes wide and unblinking like she just saw a catastrophe she can’t quite make sense of. But I’ve had enough. Maybe she’ll be mad at me later for doing something, but I can’t sit here and do nothing.

“All right, that’s enough. I think you’ve got enough for this interview, Kandy. Maybe we’ll have time for more questions when you’re in a better mood.”

Kandy whips around to face me, her eyes blazing bright, but her smile plastered on.

“I’m sorry, was that too much? It’s the job, you know. Fans want all the juicy details.”

I’m standing and I cross the room to open the door, gesturing the way out for her. “And we’re happy to provide those details when we see fit, but you don’t need to be so nasty about it. And Chelsea’s fame doesn’t deny her the right to some privacy. So thank you for coming to talk with us, but you’re done for tonight.”

Kandy’s jaw drops and then snaps closed. Her eyes harden, but then she gives me a smile that sends uneasy chills all the way to my toes.

“Of course. I’m sorry I overstepped. I’ll see you two soon,” she says, leaving the room with a friendly little wave that only makes me angrier.

As soon as I close the door I’m apologizing. “I’m sorry, Chelsea, I know you can fight your own battles, but I just couldn’t sit here and listen to her disrespect you like—”

I’m slammed into the wall and then Chelsea’s kissing me for all she’s worth. Faster than a blink, she’s on the floor on her knees, practically ripping my pants off and pulling my cock out. Her hand is soft and smooth, but her grip is firm as she strokes my length from root to tip. It feels so good I forget how to breathe for a moment, sinking back against the door, my head back, my eyes closed.

My eyes fly open when her tongue drags along the underside of my cock and I groan. Her soft lips wrap around me and suck me in, her eyes flicking up to meet mine, that blue gaze sizzling through me.

“Jesus, Chelsea.” The words are hardly more than a sigh. Her mouth is like magic. She drags her dress back up her hips, revealing her slick pussy to my hungry gaze. Her panties must still be somewhere off in a corner where I threw them earlier. I can hardly focus on that, because while she’s sucking my cock she’s running her finger up and down her slippery slit, moaning into me, sending vibrations all the way to my toes.

“Oh God, yeah, play with your clit, sweetheart,” I groan, dragging my fingers through her hair as her lips pump up and down my thick shaft, doing their damnedest to draw the cum right out of me.

She’s already trembling when she slides two fingers inside herself and the display is so fucking sexy that I force my eyes closed for a second to stop myself from coming right then and there. But I know what she’s doing because the soft vibrations of her moans are going straight from her throat, through my cock, and into my balls, making them tighten.

“Make that sweet pussy come for me just like I’m going to do as soon as we’re back in that hotel room.” I feel her gasp and then her fingers still, her eyes squeezing shut. The satisfied groan that comes next is all it takes.

“Chelsea, I’m gonna—” I don’t get it out before I’m coming. Normally I like to give a girl enough warning to pull away if she wants, but full of surprises as she is, Chelsea takes it all, swallowing my cum before looking up at me with this smile that makes my heart skip a beat and my cock twitch toward her all at once.

“Holy shit,” I sigh, sinking against the door. “Not that I’m complaining, but what the hell was that for?”

She shrugs, pulling her dress down as she stands and demurely wipes the corner of her mouth like she’s worried there might be crumbs, not semen, there.

“I wanted to… And I really appreciated you standing up for me with Kandy.”

“But I thought… With Rosa… You’re not mad about that?”

She shakes her head, grinning at me like I’m a little slow. “No. Rosa is my fight, but Kandy? Well, Kandy can go fuck herself.”

I chuckle and pull her into my arms, shaking my head. “Who knew you had such a filthy mouth on you?”

She arches an eyebrow at me and I burst out laughing. “Okay, fair enough. I definitely knew. Especially after that performance.”

She’s still grinning, but her cheeks burn red as she smacks my shoulder and rolls her eyes. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I want to hear more about what you’re planning to do in that hotel room.”

And just like that, I’m sporting a raging hard-on again. It doesn’t take much with this girl, but I haven’t even managed to stuff my dick back in my pants yet. She notices the struggle and grins that sly little smirk that’s probably supposed to look apologetic but is filled with too much pride to pull it off.

“My my, so eager?” she says innocently, dragging her hand over the front of my pants again, only making me swell more, making putting my pants on even harder.

“For you, always. But if you ever want to actually get back to the hotel room, you should probably stop being such a damn tease.”

She gives me a playful pout but finally pulls away, letting me get myself situated as she picks her things up from around the dressing room.

“I’ll be waiting for you out back,” she says, giving me a kiss on the cheek as she slips something into my pocket and walks out the door. I shove my hand in my pocket and feel the scrap of fabric. But that can’t be—

I pull it out and it is. The minx stuffed her damp panties in my pocket. I shove them back and growl, my cock straining at the front of my jeans. This damn girl is going to be the death of me.

But what a sweet way to go.