Mathewson
Tonight was... Wow. I’ve kissed many girls—too many—but that was...more. I’m not proud of the playboy reputation I’ve received simply by being in a band, but it is what it is. I can’t change it now. If I’m lucky, the rumors haven’t gotten to Caroline and my shot isn’t ruined. I don’t want her to ever think she’s just another girl, because she’s not. Tonight cemented it. She’s everything.
I adjust myself, desperately needing my own release. Helping Caroline get hers was almost too much. Watching her come was beyond my dreams. The pent-up need and massive blue balls she caused are unrivaled. Damn, the things she does to me, and she has no clue. The girl is unlike any other.
God, what I would do to feel her tight pussy around me, strangling my cock with its heat. Closing my eyes, I imagine it. I imagine what it would feel like to be thrusting in and out of her. Dragging myself through her hot, wet center. My cock aches for it.
Without a second thought, I lift my hips and push my pants down. Then I grab my dick in my hand, gripping myself tightly in the palm of my right hand. I’m fucking hard as a rock. The idea of feeling her quivering around me has me fisting myself from root to tip. I need to be inside her now. Shutting my eyes again, I imagine it. I imagine slipping the head of my dick into her slick entrance. Slowly, I fuck my hand as if it’s her. As if she’s tightly sheathed around me, I tighten my grip. It’s as if I’m actually sliding my cock through her damp folds. My hips rock up. My breathing accelerates to match the clip of my movements. It’s building. The sensation in my body reaches a high as my balls tighten and all the muscles in my back tighten and then with one final pump of my hand I come all over myself.
Fuck. That was amazing.
And fuck, did I make a mess. Reaching for a tissue, I wipe up the evidence.
A ping from my computer has me sitting down and opening my email. Shelby Wright has sent me a message, and I can’t help the pride that swells as I read. He’s one of the best agents in showbiz. Punch-Drunk Kids would be set with him representing us. I can’t open up the email quickly enough.
Matt,
I’ll see you guys tomorrow night. Knock ’em dead and blow me away. You play your cards right, and your future is secured.
Best,
Shelby
Your future is secured, the words I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear. He’s offering a life filled with happiness, doing what I love—something my father could never truly provide. A future and happiness.
I’d have all the money I need in the world working at my father’s company, but I’d never be happy. Shelby Wright is offering me both on a silver platter. All I have to do is have the performance of a lifetime. I can do it. I’ve done it every weekend night for the past five years of my life. Nothing has changed.
You’re distracted. Since the day Caroline Littrell walked into my Econ class, I’ve been a mess, and it’s no good. And now I have her coming to the show.
The distraction will be front-row. What the hell was I thinking? I’ve got to pull it together. I have to tune her out and concentrate. As much as I’d love to add a third thing to my list of life goals, it might be asking the universe for too much. Success, a future, and Caroline... I’d be one lucky bastard.
* * *
“Say it again,” Kip asks with excitement.
“‘Have the performance of a lifetime and our futures will be secured,’” I read once more.
All the guys hoot and holler.
“We have this in the bag. Just do like we practiced and have a good time. Show him that not only can we play our parts, but we can perform. We’re entertainment ourselves.”
Ian nods his head in agreement. “We’ve got this.”
As excited as I am, I can’t help but be nervous. I wish I could say it’s all about Shelby watching from the stage, but it’s not. Caroline’s here, front row. What is she thinking? Will she be impressed? If I’m being honest, the only thing I care about right now is her, and it’s a big problem. A big fucking problem.
“All right, kids. You’re up,” the stage manager calls from the side.
The guys head to their positions on stage. I do my nightly routine shaking off the jitters and feeling the microphone slide around in the palm of my hand. “You’ve got this. You’ve got this,” I repeat over and over again, hoping it’ll sink in one of these days.
No matter how many times I go on that stage, the nerves never cease to exist. It takes at least the first few lines of the song I’m singing every night before I’m really loose. Tonight, I hope to hell it happens more quickly. I enter the stage and place the microphone on the stand so my hands are free, allowing me to strum my guitar that hangs around my neck.
I told myself I wasn’t going to look for her. I wasn’t going to do that to myself, but I can’t fucking help it. Within two minutes I’ve spotted her, and damn if she isn’t perfection underneath these lights. She’s like an angel with the overhead lights reflecting off her golden hair, a huge smile plastered across her face that I pretend is just for me. The first riffs of the music pull my attention back to my job for the night. Before long, it’s my turn. I start crooning into the microphone.
From the first second I saw you I knew you were the one Despite what I have to overcome Our life flies before us, so I only have this chance Will you reach out and join me in this dance?
My eyes meet Caroline’s. Hers are wide, and a goofy smirk is on her face. I can’t help but wink in her direction. The girls around her freak, grabbing her and celebrating my affection. I continue the rest of the song singing to her the entire time. I hope she feels the sincerity in my words. Reach out and join me in this dance. We might never get another chance.