Page 117 of Madden
“Right there,” I mutter, tilting my head back against his shoulder.
“Let me feel my pussy come for me, Brielle.”
He thrusts deep. His lips skate across my shoulder, nipping and biting at my skin. My vision goes blurry when he flicks his tongue over my ear and my body tenses.
“Oh fuck, that feels so good.” Madden groans, thrusting into me one final time.
“I’m not kidding, Madden. If you two don’t hurry up, we’re gonna leave without you.” Kyla pounds on the door.
Our moans echo around us, and we collapse onto the bed. Our bodies tremble, the aftermath of our release drains all the energy out of me, and I relax into him.
I don’t want to ever lose this feeling with him.
***
It’s hard to believe we’re already in the second month of their tour.
I don’t know what I expected life on the road to be like with a rock band—traveling from city to city. If we’re not sleeping on the bus, we’re crashing in a new room every night.
I have to admit, for someone who’s always had life planned out in front of them, it can be terrifying, but I’m learning to embrace going with the flow and seeing where life takes you.
If I hadn’t, I sure as hell wouldn’t have taken the leap with Madden, and we wouldn’t be where we are now.
I’ve made the most of my time on the road, though. When we stay somewhere for more than one night, I drag Madden away with me to explore new places. The best part is I brought my camera with me and have captured every moment of it along the way.
On the days we’re stuck on the bus and the guys are writing new music, I pull out my laptop and headphones and dive back into the story I’ve been working on.
Madden’s been encouraging me along the way, urging me to take the leap and have it published, but for now, I’m just enjoying writing and letting my creativity flow.
When we’re at their show later that night, I’m still replaying every second of our morning together through my mind.
Madden stands behind his drums, his headphones on, tapping his foot on the floor. He spins his sticks between his fingers above his head.
The crowd is wild tonight. I love watching their excitement every time they step on stage, doing what they love.
“Cedar Rapids, I want you on your fuckin’ feet and your hands in the air,” Brix roars. “It’s because of you this song has been sitting at the top of the Billboard charts for the last fourteen weeks in a row.”
The lights go out, and we’re left staring into a sea of lights from the crowd, screaming and chanting, “Rebels,” through the sold-out arena.
The girls are next to me, bouncing on their feet.
“Hell yeah, baby!” Ivy shouts. Kyla joins in, cupping her hands over her mouth, chanting along with them.
I can’t contain the pride expanding in my chest, especially when I glance over to see the beaming smile on Madden’s face.
He takes a seat on the stool, kicking them off with the song behind the album title, Come Hell or Havoc.
Tysin and Trey follow behind him on the guitar. It’s a faster tempo, and Madden puts every ounce of energy into it, his head banging in time to the beat of the music.
Something is so fulfilling about watching the person you love live their dream.
Even though I can’t see the next step in front of me, when it comes to my career, I’m learning to love the journey.
I know Madden will be there every step, no matter where the path leads or what twists and turns come our way.
“You fuckin’ killed it, baby.” I grin, shouting to Madden when the guys wrap up their last song.
Madden ripped off his shirt halfway through. He tugs it off his shoulder, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow, and stalks toward me, lifting me in his arms.
“You’re sweaty.” I scrunch my nose, pushing him away. “You need to shower.”
“You’re damn right I do, and you’re coming with me.” He grins.
“Will you two get a damn room?” Tysin balks from behind us.
Madden lifts his middle finger in the air, stomping down the stairs. He ignores my attempts to get down, hauling me over his shoulder.
“We were interrupted earlier.” He lands a swat on my ass, and I squeal. “Now I’m coming to claim what’s mine.”