K. Linde - Take Me for Granted

“Cheyenne?” I asked. It was still shocking that I’d managed to remember other girls’ names longer than a couple of seconds.

“Yeah, bro. She’s a total freak in the sheets. We should swap, and you should try that out.”

I stopped walking and tried to keep my temper on lock. The last time I’d reacted on Vin, it had fucked up our rehearsals for the next week. I gritted my teeth. “I don’t think so.”

“Yeah, you never were into redheads.”

“Did I discriminate?” I didn’t remember it that way.

“You didn’t used to.”

I could hear the annoyance in his voice but chose to ignore it. We had a huge show tonight. If Vin had something to say, he could fucking say it after the show.

“I wish I’d seen where Sydney went off to though. Think I could get her into a threesome with the ginger?”

“I’d assume it wouldn’t be Syd’s first, but she’s my cousin, so shut the fuck up about her.”

“She’s a goddamn cocktease. You should say something to her, Grant. I’ve been wanting in that ever since I took her virginity. I’m fucking obsessed with her.”

To my credit, I didn’t throw Vin across the room like I wanted to. I had beat the shit out of him when I first found out. Luckily, Sydney had enough sense not to actually be interested in my dipshit friend for a repeat performance. Her teasing was pretty entertaining, but fuck, I still wanted to kick his ass for ruining my little cousin.

“I’m not saying a word to her, and you should just fucking leave her alone. Concentrate on Cheyenne. She’s crazy about you.”

Vin cocked his head back like I’d just said the most shocking thing. “Since when are you the fucking voice of reason? You been hanging out with Miller too much, bro.”

Speak of the devil, Miller’s door cracked open, and he walked out in a clean pair of jeans and a band T-shirt. Sauntering out right behind him was Sydney, still in the clothes she’d been wearing the night before. Fuck!

“What the motherfucking fuck?!” Vin roared.

“Oh, Vin, baby,” Sydney said in a chipper voice. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Bro, are you fucking my girl?”

Miller leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms, and gave Vin the best eat-shit-and-die look I’d ever seen from him. He didn’t need to say a word. That look had done the trick.

“Whoa!” I said, slamming my hand down onto Vin’s chest. “Fucking chill out. You were fucking someone else last night.”

“He fucking knew I was into Sydney!” Vin cried, trying to push past me.

He had more bulk than I did, but I wasn’t going to let my brothers kill each other. Miller was tall and lanky, but I knew firsthand that he packed a punch. He had been taking jiu-jitsu and various other martial arts classes since he was a kid.

Sydney rolled her eyes. “Vin, baby, calm down.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!”

I shoved Vin backward. “Don’t talk to my fucking cousin like that, jackass.”

The other doors to the suite opened, and Aribel and McAvoy appeared out of nowhere. McAvoy came over to help block Vin’s path to Miller.

“What’s going on?” Aribel asked.

“We got it covered, Ari. Just go back into the room.”

She gave me a look that said, No chance in hell.

“You motherfucker!” Vin yelled at Miller, ignoring the bodies standing between them. “You broke code.”

“What code?” Miller was completely calm. “Did you claim her? Is she sharing your bed? Has she been there since high school? No. And last I checked, Sydney is perfectly free to decide where she wants to spend her nights.”

Sydney turned and smiled at Miller. Oh fuck! This hadn’t been just some scheme on her part, like normal. She actually liked Miller. Well, just fucking great. Way to split up the group, Ono.

“Vin is just overreacting. I don’t have time for this,” Sydney said with an exaggerated eye roll. She turned, grabbed her parka, and walked out of the suite.

I fucking knew she was going to be a disaster.

“We have a show in ten hours,” I said. My eyes darted between the two guys. “Are you going to fucking get over this shit before then?”

“There are going to be scouts,” McAvoy said, surprisingly coherent. His eyes weren’t even bloodshot. He nodded his head at me when he saw me notice.

“This is huge for us,” I repeated Miller’s words back to him.

“He fucking slept with Sydney.”

“Yeah, we all got that,” Miller said.

“Enough!” I yelled at both of them. “You should just go find your ginger and fuck her the rest of the afternoon to get over this.”

“Hey! That’s my friend!” Aribel called.

“You want to go for a spin, honey?” Vin asked with a wink.

Aribel narrowed her eyes.

I was ready to knock that shit look off his face, but McAvoy jumped between us.

“He’s just pissed. He doesn’t need a broken nose, too.”

“Maybe he does,” I growled.

“Look,” McAvoy said, raising his voice.

That caught our attention. He never raised his voice.

“We have a fucking show tonight. We shouldn’t be arguing over some fucking girls. It’s about the music. It’s always been about the fucking music. Why have I been the only one who seems to remember that lately?”

Miller stood up and dropped his arms. Vin looked away from McAvoy’s gaze. I shrugged my shoulders and sighed. These were my brothers. We didn’t need to be arguing like this.

“He’s right.”

“Yeah,” Miller said.

Vin continued to look off toward the TV.

“Vin?” McAvoy prompted.

“Yeah. It’s about the fucking music.”

“So, go get laid, blow off some steam, whatever you need. But when we step onto that stage, this shit never happened.”

Grant stormed back into the room like a thundercloud. Our breakfast had been forgotten in the midst of Vin and Miller’s fight. He slammed the door closed behind him, scooped me up like I weighed nothing, and tossed me back onto the bed. I bounced once and then lay flat.

“Are you turning into a caveman on me?”

“Is this some new thing?” he asked, yanking his shirt over his head.

“I suppose not. Are you pissed about Sydney?” I could tell he was, but I wanted him to talk to me about it.

“I knew she’d fucking be trouble on this trip the moment she called and asked me to take her with me. She’s a fucking mess—bed-hopping, wearing those ridiculous clothes, acting like a dumb slut.” He shook his head in frustration. “She’s actually a really smart girl. Full scholarship to the University of Tennessee, straight A’s, on the fucking Dean’s list. She’s just a fuck-up in her personal life.”

“Doesn’t sound like anyone else I know.”

Grant turned his dark eyes on me, and his whole body softened. “Nah. I’m not as smart as Sydney.”

“You wouldn’t say you fucked up your personal life?”

“Last I checked, you’re in my bed, Ari. I’m a fuck-up, that’s for fucking sure, but I must have done something right because you’re here. Or maybe I’m a real fuck-up, and you deserve someone better than me.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he even realized what he’d said.

A part of me knew that he felt that way, but still, I didn’t think he’d actually meant it.

“I think you’re spouting off stuff that you don’t mean,” I whispered, grabbing his hand.

“How do you know I don’t mean that?”

“Because you don’t.”

He didn’t say anything. Up until we’d gotten involved, I would have thought the very same thing. Actually, I’d spit that at him when he first pursued me.

“You’re just worked up about the argument. I can think of better things to take your frustration out on other than yourself.”

His eyebrows shot up, and a small smirk crept onto his face. “I have a feeling I like where this is going.” He crawled onto the bed after me.

“If Vin was instructed to fuck Cheyenne all afternoon to get over the argument, I think it’s only fair that you take your own advice.”

“You want me to fuck your friend?” he asked with that mischievous glint in his eye.

“Yes, I want you to ruin your relationship and the band all in one swoop,” I said sarcastically.

Grant just laughed and then rolled me underneath him. “I believe you’re asking me to fuck you.”

“I didn’t—”

“Ask me.”

“Ask you what?” I played coy.

“Ask me to fuck you.” He leaned over and nipped at my ear. “Talk dirty to me. Tell me what you want.”

I squirmed underneath him. There was no way I could do that. I was…not that kind of person. Now, I didn’t mind it when he would talk dirty to me while we were in the middle of our escapades. Actually, it usually really turned me on.

I tried to force them out, but the words stuck in my mouth from embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you,” Grant teased. “Do you want me to eat you out, suck on your clit, finger-fuck your pussy?”

My whole body flushed at that word. His lips trailed down my throat.

“Do you want me to spread you wide? Do you want me to slide my cock deep inside you? Tell me what you want, love.”

My breathing was heavy as he started circling his hips against me. God, even through his jeans, I could feel him getting turned on.

“I want you,” I whispered.

“To fuck you.”

I swallowed hard. “I want you to fuck me, Grant.”

There was no hesitation on his end. He didn’t even ask me if I was still sore, which I was, but at this point, I just didn’t care. I was pretty sure I’d suffer for this later, but damn, I wanted him.

Grant grabbed my head, and our lips met with an intensity and ferocity that had been missing in our gentle embrace last night. He kissed me like a starving man with his first morsel of food, like a heroine addict getting his next hit, like a reigning boxing champion clamoring for his next fight. I was his drug of choice, and he was using me to feed his addiction.

Our lips moved against each other, tongues twisting and massaging. His teeth latched onto my bottom lip and dragged it back toward him.

I couldn’t get enough. I needed his touch. I needed him pressed against me. I needed us to be connected like this.

We quickly removed the remainder of our clothing, and Grant slipped on a condom. His hands found the backs of my legs, and he dragged me out flat on the bed. Our bodies were aching for each other.

He went in easier this time even if it hurt like a bitch. I bit my bottom lip hard and tried to push the pain back. Oh God, nope. It still felt like he was tearing me open. I took a few deep breaths as he filled me all the way.

He started moving sooner than he had last time, and I found that the more he slid in and out of me, the less I noticed the pain. Actually, all I was starting to notice was the pleasure rushing up my body and spreading to my fingertips, causing me to clench the covers and curl my toes.

“Fuck, Ari,” Grant groaned, leaning his body over me.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“I should slow down,” he said reluctantly.

I shook my head. Yes, he should slow down, but no, I didn’t want him to. I didn’t have to tell him twice about that either. Grant pulled one of my legs up and leaned forward into it. My eyes widened. I hadn’t thought that he would be able to get deeper, but clearly, that was not the case.

My head tilted back into the pillow. My world was spinning. Pain mixed with pleasure in a way I’d never experienced and had no way of explaining. Grant was moving not too fast but not slow either, and all I could feel was the energy building inside me.

“Grant,” I moaned.

My walls tightened all around him, and I couldn’t hold back the release rocking my body. I dug my fingers into the duvet and felt like I was ripping through the material.

A moment later, Grant gasped and then shuddered as he finished just after me.

Exhaustion pulled me under, and when I finally woke up again, it was already early afternoon. I’d practically missed the whole day with Grant, and I was starving. But when I woke up, Grant was missing. Where did he go?