Oblivion Series Book 2

Blake

This was it, finally, after months of planning. This was the first night of our final tour, before we said goodbye to our career as we knew it. Emotions were high for everyone, and the usual buzz was going around.

Paisley had turned up an hour ago; she and Zeke had found themselves in a quiet spot…although they weren’t being very quiet. And of course, everywhere Paisley went, my queen was sure to be following.

God, that girl made my body shiver, shake, quake…spontaneously combust…fuck! I’d have to come up with my own word to truly get across what she did to me.

Majizzicle… Yeah, that’s it. She made me feel majizzicle. Jesus, her name alone made me feel so fucking weak.

I’ve been asked many times, in all the fucking interviews, whether I would ever settle down. Was I seeing anyone at the moment? Who was the girl back in Round Top? My answer had always been the same…No fucking comment!

I remember once being asked what my dream girl would be—what type of girl it would take to stop me from playing around. Easiest. Question. EVER!

As far as an ideal personality went, I wanted a smart girl. I was attracted to cleverness, wit, and creativity. I wanted her to be humble and caring.

She’d be classy in classy situations, and fun and bubbly when we’re just hanging out watching Netflix. She would prefer staying home rather than going to the bar.

I was looking for a girl who shared a lot of my interests or was open to giving new things a try (because I was the same way).

I wanted a girl who was more of a debate opponent than a contender; a girl who welcomed new perspectives and wasn’t afraid to disagree.

I was looking for a girl who would love to challenge me and a girl I would love to challenge.

I wanted a girl who I’d wake up next to, say good morning, and kiss wherever and whenever I pleased. A girl who’d do the same for me.

Of course, we would have to play-fight for a bit before rushing off for leftover Chinese for breakfast.

I wasn’t sure whether I’d choose to ravish her body before, after, or even during breakfast, taking her mind and body on an adventurous, sexual ride.

Her brown hair would be wrapped around my wrist, her front pressed firmly into the breakfast bar, her legs parted, her back arched toward me as I sank my dick between those succulent lips.

The warmth would suffocate me with desire as each inch went that bit further. My mouth would be next to her ear, teeth sinking into the soft flesh as she moaned out into the room.

Holy fuck, this was my dream girl, and her name was London Taylor—the only one to captivate me, hand me my ass, and tear me apart—all, after one single night.

Now, I could feel her…she was close by as me and my brothers made sure everything was set for the show.

The atmosphere was already buzzing. Everyone was electrified with excitement as they knew they were in for one hell of a night. Our support act had been playing for over an hour now; it was so close for us to make the stage our own.

I was tapping the beats; however, my mind was searching for her.

All hands were on deck backstage. Everyone rushed around to make sure our equipment was in the right place. Jay’s and Zeke’s guitars were close by, and Caleb was talking with the press.

It was best if he did it; the rest of us would put a foot in it. Me? I’d tell them all to go to hell. I was done with all the lies they printed about me.

So what if I was the fucking joker of the band? It was a front. Always had been, always would be…not even my twin had noticed. You’d think the complete one-eighty spin I did…what? Four months ago, now? Would have been the warning sign that I fucked up big style.

I was lost in my world as my mind and body argued whether what happened that night was a mistake or not.

London hadn’t let me anywhere near her, not even when we came home for a month.

Every time I tried to talk to her, I behaved like an idiot and made fucking jokes. Her eyes burned into my own, setting me ablaze me from within… Yeah, she was pissed, and rightly so.

After all, our one night together really was just one night. I left the next morning to go back on tour. I broke the promise to see her for breakfast.

It wasn’t my fault. As soon as I had walked her home and got back to my place, I found the guys waiting for me. We had to leave straight away. I never had the chance to tell her, and she never let me explain when I returned.

The first night I met her I asked for her number, but that didn’t go down very well as my stupid self opened my damn trap without thinking.

However, then we had that perfect night together under the stars, and I totally forgot to get her number. Paisley was no help either and wouldn’t help me out.

Then when I finally got to see London, we just ended up arguing. The hate would pour out of her, and I knew I had lost her…for now, at least.

“I’m sorry,” I called as I walked into someone, not paying attention to my surroundings.

“Not heard that before.” It was the same venom.

“London?” I questioned, my heart pounding with something—I wasn’t sure what to call it. The girl confused me in more ways than one.

My eyes roamed on her attire. I lifted an eyebrow to see the baggy clothes she was wearing—this wasn’t like her.

She usually wore clothes that looked like a second skin, fabric that dared you not to focus on every curve she had.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked in a nervous tone.

“Pure perfection,” I replied.

She eyed me up and down, and a slight blush appeared on her cheeks. She looked different in a way, yet not. Her skin was glowing, her eyes shining.

She really needed to uncross her arms, as all I was seeing were the girls who were begging to be squeezed. “Fuck,” I murmured.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Would you like a drink or anything?”

She shook her head whilst biting her lip. That familiar pull between us was already heating up. She was nervous; I could tell. Holy shit, I was nervous. I was putty in her hands right now.

Hesitantly, I took a step forward. London sighed and surprised me when she didn’t step away.

I reached for her hand, needing to get us both away from all the hustle and bustle for a moment. I led her outside, where all the trailers were.

London let go of my hand and placed hers firmly on the metal railing beside us. She stared into the night without really seeing any of the panorama.

The light breeze tousled her storm-cloud hair. An irrational jealousy knotted my stomach. The thought of anything or anyone touching her that wasn’t me lodged in my brain like a jagged, white-hot, poisonous splinter.

I yearned for the touch of her lips so fervently. Did I dare reach out and cross that line with her again?

Part of me recoiled in terror. My guts coiled and writhed like a serpent made of ice, while another part shrieked at me to take the chance or lose it forever.

With the same kind of a forceful gulp I might have given just before stepping out of the open door of an airplane with a parachute, I brushed the back of my hand lightly down London’s cheek, adding just enough pressure to ensure that the contact couldn’t be mistaken for anything but intentional.

She froze.

I tensed, ready to pull back as if her soft, warm skin seared my flesh at the first hint of repulsion or disgust. My heart stuttered to a stop in my chest as her heat caressed my skin.

My mouth instantly went dry and parched, even as more optimistic parts south of the border reacted to her proximity and the intimate contact.

Like an idiot, I left my hand hanging exactly where it was as seconds passed with the same ponderous pace as geological ages.

London’s cataleptic stillness suggested she balanced on a knife edge, and I didn’t dare make a move to push her one way or the other. If she wanted to come to me, she would. If not, I was in for one long, sad, lonely night.

Story of my life.

An eternity later, London relaxed against my hand.

Carefully but quickly, I turned it over so my palm lay against her cheek. With a pleased little mewl, she stroked herself into the cup of my hand and slid her eyes closed in apparent pleasure.

My pulse began to gallop at a quadruple time, making up for all the beats it had missed while I waited for London to decide whether she wanted my touch or not.

My racing thoughts slowed time to a subjective crawl, and whole galaxies were born and perished while her sensually curved lips puckered, asking me wordlessly to touch them.

I couldn’t resist the invitation. Wrapping my free arm behind her back, I pulled her delicious frame against me and brushed the red petals of her mouth.

They parted, offering me free access to the delightful heat within, and I flicked my tongue between her lips to finally drink from the one well who could truly slake my raging thirst.

She squeaked and stiffened slightly as I claimed her mouth, but then sank into me, meeting my impassioned embrace with fiery acceptance.

She sighed into my mouth as I devoured her and the heat of her breath fanned my nerve endings into an apocalyptic inferno of craving.

I drank from my queen’s sweet mouth until dark spots swam at the corners of my vision.

It didn’t matter, as long as I could continue worshipping at this erotic altar until I had no breath left in my body.

She gripped my shirt and I tangled her hair in my hands. Everything felt right—her lips against mine, her hands on me as mine were on her, having her body flushed against my own, our hearts beating as one.

It was where I wanted to be for the rest of my living life. Pulling her bottom lip between my teeth, I nibbled on it slightly. Our foreheads touched as we tried to catch our breath.

“If a hug could represent how much I care about you, I would hold you in my arms forever,” I whispered against her puckered lips.

I saw a slight twitch in the corner of her mouth until she me pushed back.

“How could you?” she whispered, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

“I…I don’t understand.”

“I’m not a toy you think you can play with whenever or wherever you please.” The same venom was there once more.

“I have never said you were. Shit, London, I don’t do this with anyone else, only you.”

“That right there is a lie,” she whispered before storming off.

I went to follow her, but Jay grabbed my arm and dragged me back to the stage.

“Dude, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Jay said as he dragged me away.

I didn’t want to play the show right now; I wanted to go and find my damn girl and make this right.

***

My eyes wandered over the masses, expecting to see the eyes that made me do stupid things. I thought we were on the same page, but I was completely wrong.

I lost myself in the beat as we began our set. I waited for the same buzz to take over me, but it didn’t for the first time in a long time. And why was that? London.

The girl had me so messed up; I had no idea which way was up or which was down.

The crowd was amazing—or at least that’s what I thought. I felt like I wasn’t even in my body anymore.

Zeke had mentioned wanting to add another track to the set before our final one, but it just needed him and his guitar. We all agreed, wondering what the idiot was up to.

Caleb introduced him, and he was a few beats in when I felt that familiar buzz fill me. I looked to the side and noticed Paisley was standing looking on as Zeke poured his heart out in his song.

London stood next to her, her eyes red and raw, showing me she had been crying. A pain shot through my heart, knowing I was the one to cause her pain yet again.

Zeke sang his final line, and the whole arena had gone quiet. My eyes were focused on London as she stood open-mouthed and Paisley made her way onto the stage.

A short moment later, a thundering eruption of cheers echoed throughout the place. I was positive it would bring the building down in a pile of rubble, as if it were the strongest earthquake to hit Chicago.

London was smiling, genuinely happy for her friend. Our eyes met, and I gave her a small smile of my own.

I watched as she went from ecstatic for a friend and her news to an empty shell of life when we finally locked onto each other.

Pain shot through my left side as she walked away from me for the second time that night.