Sad_Girl
Blue Crack Supplier
**The following is a work of fiction. Not real.
Chapter Four
”Say goodnight , She waits for me to Put out the light! Lay there still. She waits to break my will…” Bono sang, strutting across the stage as if playing to a packed audience rather than a nearly empty club. Natalie was seated on a stool at the bar, receipts and various other nuisance work spread out in front of her, trying to focus on that rather than Bono. She knew, deep down, it was hopeless, but she gave it a valiant effort.
She watched out the corner of her eye as Bono strutted toward Edge, who was concentrating as intently as always on his guitar. She almost wanted to warn him, but figured he probably knew Bono’s playful moods better than anyone. He rested his head on Edge’s shoulder and it didn’t seem to phase the guitarist in the least. Natalie felt a pang of sadness as she thought about how free Bono was with his affection. It was just a reminder that the affection he had shown her was nothing special. She was nothing special.
“How’s that sound, miss road manager?” She heard him say. The band played on without missing a beat, as they did in a concert when he forgot or changed lyrics. Also, more frequently, when he had something to say to someone in the audience.
“Sounding good.” She called back, extending an arm and giving him the thumbs up gesture. She purposefully kept her eyes on the papers spread out on the bar. The last thing she needed to do was encourage him to play it up for her.
“That’s not particularly reassuring.” He said with a chuckle into the microphone. She had to smile when she looked up at him, standing there, holding on to the microphone stand as if it were his only friend.
“It sounds great!” She told him playfully. “Never better! We should be recording!” She laughed. Bono smirked and jumped off the stage, strutting toward her as he had toward Edge moments before.
“Into the heart...of a child … I stay awhile...oh, I can go back … Into the heart...” he sang as he approached. She held her breath, knowing he would not stop until their noses were nearly touching. He had a habit of invading a persons personal space when he sang to them. As much as she wanted him to invade her physical space, she was afraid it would be too much. His voice was seduction enough all by itself, without needing to feel the heat radiating from his body.
Less than two feet from where she sat, Bono stopped suddenly. Turning back to scowl at the stage and tug on the microphone cord as if he could make it stretch. Natalie let out a breath of relief and a nervous chuckle.
“Fucking thing!” She heard him muttering as he continued to try and make the microphone chord do what he wanted. Finally he turned back to her and grinned sheepishly. “I thought it would be longer.” He told her.
“That’s what his last girlfriend said.” Edge quipped, earning a laugh from everyone in the room.
“Funny, The Edge.” Bono replied sarcastically, making a rude gesture in his friends direction. “I think we’re rehearsed enough.” He said, making Larry roll his eyes and sigh. Bono’s attention span was notoriously short, and lately rehearsals had not been able to hold his interest for long at all.
“I’m going back to the hotel for a shower and something to eat.” Larry told the others. “Anyone else?” Edge and Adam both shook their heads, but Bono decided he needed to go as well.
“Be back here before seven-thirty!” Edge called after them, hoping Larry (who was ridiculously punctual) would be able to get the notoriously late Bono back to the club before they were scheduled to take the stage. Adam left the stage quickly, greeting the bartender who had arrived early to set up for the evening rush. Edge lowered himself to the stage floor, swinging his legs over the side and picking idly on an acoustic guitar.
“Your pants are starting to fade.” He heard Holly say, glancing up to see her standing near the stage door, watching him. He smiled instinctively upon seeing her.
“What?” He asked as his mind struggled to make sense of her words.
“The writing on your jeans is starting to fade.” She laughed, pointing as she approached. He looked down at his long, skinny legs and noticed for the first time that the words and drawings which he had scribbled all over them in permanent marker were losing their color. What had been sharp black lines was now blurry and more blue or gray than black.
“I guess I know what I’ll be doing on the bus tomorrow.” He joked, looking up to see that she had produced a black magic marker from her pocket. She grinned at him and tapped the marker against the palm of her hand. He opened his mouth to say something, but he had a million thoughts competing for the right to be spoken aloud.
He wished he was as bold as Bono and Adam, and could toss her a flirtatious smile and invite her to write whatever she wanted on his pants. He wished he was as blunt as Larry and could point out to her that it would be to intimate of a thing for her to do, while he was wearing them at least. All he could muster was a nervous chuckle and a string of ‘Em’s and ‘Err’s.
“Do you mind?” She asked, and finally he just shook his head. His heart seemed to have jumped up into his throat and made him mute. “I’ve been dying to do this.” She admitted with a shy smile as she stepped in close to him and began tracing over the designs with her marker. Edge’s heart was racing so fast he was getting dizzy. As she used one hand to stretch the denim tight across his thigh, writing with the other. The touch of the marker against a sensitive spot on his thigh made his body jerk reflexively.
He felt his face flush red and was about to tell her to stop, he couldn’t sit still enough for her to do it this way. It was a good enough reason, he told himself. It was logical without being embarrassing or rude. Before he could speak, though, Holly looked up at him, her bright green eyes meeting his and twinkling happily. She smiled warmly at him, wrinkling her nose in amusement.
“Ticklish there.” She said softly before turning back to her project. “Sorry. I’ll be more careful.” She told him, and Edge had the urge to fall backwards, his face covered by his hands to muffle the tortured sounds which wanted to escape his throat.
*Stop?* he wanted to say. *Don’t stop. I wait for every chance I get to touch you, or to have you touch me.* He drew a stuttered breath and let it out slowly, adjusting the guitar in his lap, and started to strum idly again. He was glad it was there, shielding him from an accidental touch which would surely embarrass them both to no end. If her hand, or even wrist or arm, had brushed up against him… he felt the blood being shunted to his groin just imagining it.
He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the song, but when he could not see her, his other senses took over and pushed his imagination even farther. Someone opened a door and the breeze which blew in stirred her hair; the scent of her shampoo caught in his nose and filled him with thoughts of his hands buried in it as he kissed her. Long, blonde locks of silk spread out on a pillow as she lay in bed, beside him. Or under him.
*Holy fuck, what are you doing to me?* He thought. He didn’t know if the question was directed at his imagination or at Holly herself. Either way he knew the answer. He was more attracted to her than he ought to be, and with each passing moment he was getting closer to the breaking point in which he had to tell her. He was practically trembling as she changed her position, turning to work on the other leg of his pants.
He really didn’t have a good reason not to tell her how he felt. They were both around the same age, and neither one of them was committed to a boyfriend or girlfriend. He hadn’t been looking for this, though. Not now. They had only just begun something big; much bigger than himself or even the band itself. He could feel it, sense it in the air when they had an audience. He had meant to dedicate his energy to the music.
Of course, that was just one of the reasons he reminded himself of as he wrestled with the desire he felt for her. He was afraid, too. Not just that love and all of its consequences would somehow take away from the band. He was afraid that she wouldn’t be interested. Or worse, laugh. Then he would lose her completely. Right now, he had a friend in her. Someone different than himself and his other friends. Someone who saw the world with fresh eyes. She painted such vivid images in his mind, when they talked. She revealed things to him which he had been completely blind to.
He didn’t want to lose that. He didn’t want things to be uncomfortable between them. If he told her how he felt, and she didn’t feel anything for him, it would be so uncomfortable between them. Maybe too uncomfortable. She might not even finish out the tour with them. He would be robbing her of an opportunity.
*No.* he told himself. *Not her. Not now. It just can’t happen.*
He sighed without meaning to, and Holly glanced up at him.
“Sad song.” She said.
“Hmm?”
“The song you’re working on. It’s pretty, but it’s so sad.” She told him, her eyes back down on the pattern she was tracing on his leg. He hadn’t even heard the song or thought about it as he played. It had simply formed out of his own thoughts and taken shape on it’s own.
“Oh. It’s not really a song…” He told her. “Just something I’m playing around with.” She smiled at him again, a smile so broad that the corners of her eyes wrinkled.
“You have more talent in your pinky finger than most people have in their entire body.” She told him. “You may just be ‘playing around’ with the guitar, but it’s still beautiful.” He smiled at her shyly, their eyes meeting again. This time she held his gaze for a long, silent moment. Both of them fell completely still as they held that moment. Edge couldn’t even breathe for fear of breaking the spell.
“I said kiss me pale white arse, you fucking shit head!” they heard Larry’s voice before he actually appeared in the doorway, the moment shattering around them as he invaded it.
“And I said you’d like that to much, pretty boy.” Bono replied, his mouth full of whatever he was eating out of a brown paper bag which crinkled loudly every time he reached into it.
“I think I’ll let you trace the ones on the back. Or I’ll do them on the road, tomorrow.” Holly told Edge, stepping away from the stage. His legs felt the chill where her body heat had been seeping into them, and he nearly shivered from it. The absence of her heat was worse, somehow, than simply feeling cold.
“Thanks.” He told her, and she nodded, slipping the marker into her back pocket.
“Oh, hey. Your hair is… here, let me just…” She said, sliding up onto the stage to sit beside him, her long fingers slipping into his wavy brown hair. He could still smell the marker ink on her skin, but it didn’t matter, because her touch outweighed every other sensation as she smoothed down a wayward curl.
“Don’t worry too much about that, Edge. You’ll probably only have your hair for a couple of more years, anyway.” Larry joked, teasing Edge about what he should’ve realized was a sensitive issue, but which the others often joked about. Edge’s father, and most of the men in his family, lost most of their hair at an early age. It was a fate he was not ready to face up to, just yet.
“At least I don’t look like a twelve year old girl.” Edge retorted, making Bono and Holly both laugh. As much as he hated thinking about his hair falling out, Larry was worse about his soft, lovely features. He wanted to be tough, manly. Handsome was fine, but it was not the word usually used to describe him. Larry flashed his middle finger at his friend, and Edge felt somewhat vindicated.
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As they were packing up the instruments and other equipment that night, Holly picked up one of Adam’s basses and draped the strap over her shoulder. She wished that she could get over her fascination with him, but everything she did seemed to come back to him. No matter what she was doing, he was in her thoughts. She just wanted to feel close to him for a moment, without the danger of actually being close to him. She knew enough about men and her own willpower to know that she needed to maintain her distance, if she wanted to keep out of a very destructive situation.
“You know how to play?” she heard his all-too-familiar voice ask. She glanced up quickly to see him ascending the stairs from the stage door and wondered how long he’d been there. Not that she could’ve heard the door open and close over the sound of the music coming from the main part of the club.
“No.” She told him, chuckling shyly. She started to slip the strap off over her head, but Adam reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, making her grow still.
“I’ll show you. It’s not that hard.” He told her, stepping up close behind her and sliding his hands along her arms until his own hands covered hers, showing her how to hold the guitar. She closed her eyes and bit down on her lower lip, trying to get past the way it felt to have his chest pressed up against her back, his hands on hers. He was talking about the feeling of the strings against his fingers, and she knew he already knew what he was doing to her.
Adam let go of her hands and she opened her eyes and plucked at the strings as he showed her, trying to be strong. In truth she had all but given up the battle to resist him already, but she did not admit it to herself until she felt his hand on her waist. His long fingers tugged the hem of her shirt out of her pants so that they could slide underneath it and barely touch the soft, sensitive skin on her belly.
All of the blood in her body rushed to her core, every nerve in her skin hyper-sensitive and anticipating his next touch. She released the breath she’d been holding in several short panting breaths and pretended she was still interested in playing the bass as Adam’s hand slid up to cup one of her breasts.
She could feel his breath against her cheek as he leaned in close, his own cheek brushing against hers, urging her to turn toward him and give him her mouth. When she didn’t immediately give in, she felt his lips against the curve of her neck. She felt like someone had plugged her into an electrical outlet, a million shocks buzzing through her body. She moaned as she turned her face to him, yielding completely as he took her mouth with a hunger almost as powerful as her own.
His other hand slipped up under her shirt to claim her other breast, both hands rubbing and squeezing with an urgency she felt keenly between her legs. His mouth slid off of hers and he gasped for breath, blinking dark blue eyes at her.
“Jaysus, Holly…” He mumbled, grinding up against her backside to emphasize the need in his voice. “Do you know what you do to me?” he asked, his accent sweet and intoxicating against her ear as his teeth nipped at her earlobe.
“I think I do.” She told him weakly, and he groaned as his mouth meshed with hers again.
“Not here.” She managed to say between kisses, one hand sliding up into Adam’s hair, her thumb stroking his cheek. “The others are coming right back.” She told him, and Adam sighed in disappointment. She shivered at the cold when he stepped away from behind her.
“Right.” He said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one for each of them as she righted her clothing. “Are you sharing a room with Natalie?” he asked, and Holly nodded sadly. “Alright. It’s not a problem. I’ll meet you at the hotel in, say, twenty minutes?”
“If not sooner.” She told him, her cheeks flushing as a sudden shyness washed over her. He grinned and kissed her tenderly on the lips. “My room. As soon as possible.” He breathed the words to her as his lips tickled her cheek and she bit back a silly grin. It wasn’t a good idea, but she wanted it more than anything, and it was going to happen.
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Adam rolled over and reached for the cigarettes on the bedside table. She watched him light two of them and draw deeply from them, before letting out a long stream of smoke and handing one of them over to her. She grinned at him, and although she felt silly doing it, she couldn’t help it. Thankfully he smiled back at her; that upside down self-satisfied smirk that she loved. His blue eyes twinkled when he smiled like that. Holly rolled over onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow.
Adam leaned down to kiss her softly, his lips far more gentle this time, all of the urgency gone. She hummed a note of approval against his mouth, pleasantly surprised by his post coital manners. There was a loud thud as the door started to open and was stopped by the chain lock. She couldn’t remember Adam sliding the chain into place but she was glad that he had, now.
“Adam?” They heard Edge’s voice ask, clearly unhappy about being refused entry into his own hotel room. “You want to let me in?”
“No.” Adam replied, chuckling before he took another drag off his cigarette. Holly felt a bit like a trapped animal suddenly. Or, more like a sixteen year old girl with a boy into her room and he father at the door. She didn’t have time to think about it, but she knew without thinking that she did not want Edge to know she was there.
“What?” Edge demanded, “Adam open the fucking door already.”
“Uh…” Adam chuckled as he jumped up from the bed and hurried to the door.
“Adam!” Holly gasped, her eyes wide as she shook her head at him.
“I’m not alone, here, mate.” Adam told Edge through the small gap in the door. “Larry and Bono said you could stay with them tonight.” Edge frowned at him for a long moment before shaking his head in irritation.
“Thanks for asking if that was alright with me. Fuck, Adam, sometimes you piss me off.” He grumbled.
“Noted.” Adam mumbled in reply, his cigarette pressed firmly between his lips as he slid into his pants. Edge turned, shaking his head in disgust as he stormed off to find somewhere else to sleep. The door had barely closed behind him when he heard the soft, familiar sound of Holly’s laughter.
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some of you have an unedited version of this in your mailboxes
Chapter Four
”Say goodnight , She waits for me to Put out the light! Lay there still. She waits to break my will…” Bono sang, strutting across the stage as if playing to a packed audience rather than a nearly empty club. Natalie was seated on a stool at the bar, receipts and various other nuisance work spread out in front of her, trying to focus on that rather than Bono. She knew, deep down, it was hopeless, but she gave it a valiant effort.
She watched out the corner of her eye as Bono strutted toward Edge, who was concentrating as intently as always on his guitar. She almost wanted to warn him, but figured he probably knew Bono’s playful moods better than anyone. He rested his head on Edge’s shoulder and it didn’t seem to phase the guitarist in the least. Natalie felt a pang of sadness as she thought about how free Bono was with his affection. It was just a reminder that the affection he had shown her was nothing special. She was nothing special.
“How’s that sound, miss road manager?” She heard him say. The band played on without missing a beat, as they did in a concert when he forgot or changed lyrics. Also, more frequently, when he had something to say to someone in the audience.
“Sounding good.” She called back, extending an arm and giving him the thumbs up gesture. She purposefully kept her eyes on the papers spread out on the bar. The last thing she needed to do was encourage him to play it up for her.
“That’s not particularly reassuring.” He said with a chuckle into the microphone. She had to smile when she looked up at him, standing there, holding on to the microphone stand as if it were his only friend.
“It sounds great!” She told him playfully. “Never better! We should be recording!” She laughed. Bono smirked and jumped off the stage, strutting toward her as he had toward Edge moments before.
“Into the heart...of a child … I stay awhile...oh, I can go back … Into the heart...” he sang as he approached. She held her breath, knowing he would not stop until their noses were nearly touching. He had a habit of invading a persons personal space when he sang to them. As much as she wanted him to invade her physical space, she was afraid it would be too much. His voice was seduction enough all by itself, without needing to feel the heat radiating from his body.
Less than two feet from where she sat, Bono stopped suddenly. Turning back to scowl at the stage and tug on the microphone cord as if he could make it stretch. Natalie let out a breath of relief and a nervous chuckle.
“Fucking thing!” She heard him muttering as he continued to try and make the microphone chord do what he wanted. Finally he turned back to her and grinned sheepishly. “I thought it would be longer.” He told her.
“That’s what his last girlfriend said.” Edge quipped, earning a laugh from everyone in the room.
“Funny, The Edge.” Bono replied sarcastically, making a rude gesture in his friends direction. “I think we’re rehearsed enough.” He said, making Larry roll his eyes and sigh. Bono’s attention span was notoriously short, and lately rehearsals had not been able to hold his interest for long at all.
“I’m going back to the hotel for a shower and something to eat.” Larry told the others. “Anyone else?” Edge and Adam both shook their heads, but Bono decided he needed to go as well.
“Be back here before seven-thirty!” Edge called after them, hoping Larry (who was ridiculously punctual) would be able to get the notoriously late Bono back to the club before they were scheduled to take the stage. Adam left the stage quickly, greeting the bartender who had arrived early to set up for the evening rush. Edge lowered himself to the stage floor, swinging his legs over the side and picking idly on an acoustic guitar.
“Your pants are starting to fade.” He heard Holly say, glancing up to see her standing near the stage door, watching him. He smiled instinctively upon seeing her.
“What?” He asked as his mind struggled to make sense of her words.
“The writing on your jeans is starting to fade.” She laughed, pointing as she approached. He looked down at his long, skinny legs and noticed for the first time that the words and drawings which he had scribbled all over them in permanent marker were losing their color. What had been sharp black lines was now blurry and more blue or gray than black.
“I guess I know what I’ll be doing on the bus tomorrow.” He joked, looking up to see that she had produced a black magic marker from her pocket. She grinned at him and tapped the marker against the palm of her hand. He opened his mouth to say something, but he had a million thoughts competing for the right to be spoken aloud.
He wished he was as bold as Bono and Adam, and could toss her a flirtatious smile and invite her to write whatever she wanted on his pants. He wished he was as blunt as Larry and could point out to her that it would be to intimate of a thing for her to do, while he was wearing them at least. All he could muster was a nervous chuckle and a string of ‘Em’s and ‘Err’s.
“Do you mind?” She asked, and finally he just shook his head. His heart seemed to have jumped up into his throat and made him mute. “I’ve been dying to do this.” She admitted with a shy smile as she stepped in close to him and began tracing over the designs with her marker. Edge’s heart was racing so fast he was getting dizzy. As she used one hand to stretch the denim tight across his thigh, writing with the other. The touch of the marker against a sensitive spot on his thigh made his body jerk reflexively.
He felt his face flush red and was about to tell her to stop, he couldn’t sit still enough for her to do it this way. It was a good enough reason, he told himself. It was logical without being embarrassing or rude. Before he could speak, though, Holly looked up at him, her bright green eyes meeting his and twinkling happily. She smiled warmly at him, wrinkling her nose in amusement.
“Ticklish there.” She said softly before turning back to her project. “Sorry. I’ll be more careful.” She told him, and Edge had the urge to fall backwards, his face covered by his hands to muffle the tortured sounds which wanted to escape his throat.
*Stop?* he wanted to say. *Don’t stop. I wait for every chance I get to touch you, or to have you touch me.* He drew a stuttered breath and let it out slowly, adjusting the guitar in his lap, and started to strum idly again. He was glad it was there, shielding him from an accidental touch which would surely embarrass them both to no end. If her hand, or even wrist or arm, had brushed up against him… he felt the blood being shunted to his groin just imagining it.
He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the song, but when he could not see her, his other senses took over and pushed his imagination even farther. Someone opened a door and the breeze which blew in stirred her hair; the scent of her shampoo caught in his nose and filled him with thoughts of his hands buried in it as he kissed her. Long, blonde locks of silk spread out on a pillow as she lay in bed, beside him. Or under him.
*Holy fuck, what are you doing to me?* He thought. He didn’t know if the question was directed at his imagination or at Holly herself. Either way he knew the answer. He was more attracted to her than he ought to be, and with each passing moment he was getting closer to the breaking point in which he had to tell her. He was practically trembling as she changed her position, turning to work on the other leg of his pants.
He really didn’t have a good reason not to tell her how he felt. They were both around the same age, and neither one of them was committed to a boyfriend or girlfriend. He hadn’t been looking for this, though. Not now. They had only just begun something big; much bigger than himself or even the band itself. He could feel it, sense it in the air when they had an audience. He had meant to dedicate his energy to the music.
Of course, that was just one of the reasons he reminded himself of as he wrestled with the desire he felt for her. He was afraid, too. Not just that love and all of its consequences would somehow take away from the band. He was afraid that she wouldn’t be interested. Or worse, laugh. Then he would lose her completely. Right now, he had a friend in her. Someone different than himself and his other friends. Someone who saw the world with fresh eyes. She painted such vivid images in his mind, when they talked. She revealed things to him which he had been completely blind to.
He didn’t want to lose that. He didn’t want things to be uncomfortable between them. If he told her how he felt, and she didn’t feel anything for him, it would be so uncomfortable between them. Maybe too uncomfortable. She might not even finish out the tour with them. He would be robbing her of an opportunity.
*No.* he told himself. *Not her. Not now. It just can’t happen.*
He sighed without meaning to, and Holly glanced up at him.
“Sad song.” She said.
“Hmm?”
“The song you’re working on. It’s pretty, but it’s so sad.” She told him, her eyes back down on the pattern she was tracing on his leg. He hadn’t even heard the song or thought about it as he played. It had simply formed out of his own thoughts and taken shape on it’s own.
“Oh. It’s not really a song…” He told her. “Just something I’m playing around with.” She smiled at him again, a smile so broad that the corners of her eyes wrinkled.
“You have more talent in your pinky finger than most people have in their entire body.” She told him. “You may just be ‘playing around’ with the guitar, but it’s still beautiful.” He smiled at her shyly, their eyes meeting again. This time she held his gaze for a long, silent moment. Both of them fell completely still as they held that moment. Edge couldn’t even breathe for fear of breaking the spell.
“I said kiss me pale white arse, you fucking shit head!” they heard Larry’s voice before he actually appeared in the doorway, the moment shattering around them as he invaded it.
“And I said you’d like that to much, pretty boy.” Bono replied, his mouth full of whatever he was eating out of a brown paper bag which crinkled loudly every time he reached into it.
“I think I’ll let you trace the ones on the back. Or I’ll do them on the road, tomorrow.” Holly told Edge, stepping away from the stage. His legs felt the chill where her body heat had been seeping into them, and he nearly shivered from it. The absence of her heat was worse, somehow, than simply feeling cold.
“Thanks.” He told her, and she nodded, slipping the marker into her back pocket.
“Oh, hey. Your hair is… here, let me just…” She said, sliding up onto the stage to sit beside him, her long fingers slipping into his wavy brown hair. He could still smell the marker ink on her skin, but it didn’t matter, because her touch outweighed every other sensation as she smoothed down a wayward curl.
“Don’t worry too much about that, Edge. You’ll probably only have your hair for a couple of more years, anyway.” Larry joked, teasing Edge about what he should’ve realized was a sensitive issue, but which the others often joked about. Edge’s father, and most of the men in his family, lost most of their hair at an early age. It was a fate he was not ready to face up to, just yet.
“At least I don’t look like a twelve year old girl.” Edge retorted, making Bono and Holly both laugh. As much as he hated thinking about his hair falling out, Larry was worse about his soft, lovely features. He wanted to be tough, manly. Handsome was fine, but it was not the word usually used to describe him. Larry flashed his middle finger at his friend, and Edge felt somewhat vindicated.
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As they were packing up the instruments and other equipment that night, Holly picked up one of Adam’s basses and draped the strap over her shoulder. She wished that she could get over her fascination with him, but everything she did seemed to come back to him. No matter what she was doing, he was in her thoughts. She just wanted to feel close to him for a moment, without the danger of actually being close to him. She knew enough about men and her own willpower to know that she needed to maintain her distance, if she wanted to keep out of a very destructive situation.
“You know how to play?” she heard his all-too-familiar voice ask. She glanced up quickly to see him ascending the stairs from the stage door and wondered how long he’d been there. Not that she could’ve heard the door open and close over the sound of the music coming from the main part of the club.
“No.” She told him, chuckling shyly. She started to slip the strap off over her head, but Adam reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, making her grow still.
“I’ll show you. It’s not that hard.” He told her, stepping up close behind her and sliding his hands along her arms until his own hands covered hers, showing her how to hold the guitar. She closed her eyes and bit down on her lower lip, trying to get past the way it felt to have his chest pressed up against her back, his hands on hers. He was talking about the feeling of the strings against his fingers, and she knew he already knew what he was doing to her.
Adam let go of her hands and she opened her eyes and plucked at the strings as he showed her, trying to be strong. In truth she had all but given up the battle to resist him already, but she did not admit it to herself until she felt his hand on her waist. His long fingers tugged the hem of her shirt out of her pants so that they could slide underneath it and barely touch the soft, sensitive skin on her belly.
All of the blood in her body rushed to her core, every nerve in her skin hyper-sensitive and anticipating his next touch. She released the breath she’d been holding in several short panting breaths and pretended she was still interested in playing the bass as Adam’s hand slid up to cup one of her breasts.
She could feel his breath against her cheek as he leaned in close, his own cheek brushing against hers, urging her to turn toward him and give him her mouth. When she didn’t immediately give in, she felt his lips against the curve of her neck. She felt like someone had plugged her into an electrical outlet, a million shocks buzzing through her body. She moaned as she turned her face to him, yielding completely as he took her mouth with a hunger almost as powerful as her own.
His other hand slipped up under her shirt to claim her other breast, both hands rubbing and squeezing with an urgency she felt keenly between her legs. His mouth slid off of hers and he gasped for breath, blinking dark blue eyes at her.
“Jaysus, Holly…” He mumbled, grinding up against her backside to emphasize the need in his voice. “Do you know what you do to me?” he asked, his accent sweet and intoxicating against her ear as his teeth nipped at her earlobe.
“I think I do.” She told him weakly, and he groaned as his mouth meshed with hers again.
“Not here.” She managed to say between kisses, one hand sliding up into Adam’s hair, her thumb stroking his cheek. “The others are coming right back.” She told him, and Adam sighed in disappointment. She shivered at the cold when he stepped away from behind her.
“Right.” He said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one for each of them as she righted her clothing. “Are you sharing a room with Natalie?” he asked, and Holly nodded sadly. “Alright. It’s not a problem. I’ll meet you at the hotel in, say, twenty minutes?”
“If not sooner.” She told him, her cheeks flushing as a sudden shyness washed over her. He grinned and kissed her tenderly on the lips. “My room. As soon as possible.” He breathed the words to her as his lips tickled her cheek and she bit back a silly grin. It wasn’t a good idea, but she wanted it more than anything, and it was going to happen.
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Adam rolled over and reached for the cigarettes on the bedside table. She watched him light two of them and draw deeply from them, before letting out a long stream of smoke and handing one of them over to her. She grinned at him, and although she felt silly doing it, she couldn’t help it. Thankfully he smiled back at her; that upside down self-satisfied smirk that she loved. His blue eyes twinkled when he smiled like that. Holly rolled over onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow.
Adam leaned down to kiss her softly, his lips far more gentle this time, all of the urgency gone. She hummed a note of approval against his mouth, pleasantly surprised by his post coital manners. There was a loud thud as the door started to open and was stopped by the chain lock. She couldn’t remember Adam sliding the chain into place but she was glad that he had, now.
“Adam?” They heard Edge’s voice ask, clearly unhappy about being refused entry into his own hotel room. “You want to let me in?”
“No.” Adam replied, chuckling before he took another drag off his cigarette. Holly felt a bit like a trapped animal suddenly. Or, more like a sixteen year old girl with a boy into her room and he father at the door. She didn’t have time to think about it, but she knew without thinking that she did not want Edge to know she was there.
“What?” Edge demanded, “Adam open the fucking door already.”
“Uh…” Adam chuckled as he jumped up from the bed and hurried to the door.
“Adam!” Holly gasped, her eyes wide as she shook her head at him.
“I’m not alone, here, mate.” Adam told Edge through the small gap in the door. “Larry and Bono said you could stay with them tonight.” Edge frowned at him for a long moment before shaking his head in irritation.
“Thanks for asking if that was alright with me. Fuck, Adam, sometimes you piss me off.” He grumbled.
“Noted.” Adam mumbled in reply, his cigarette pressed firmly between his lips as he slid into his pants. Edge turned, shaking his head in disgust as he stormed off to find somewhere else to sleep. The door had barely closed behind him when he heard the soft, familiar sound of Holly’s laughter.
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some of you have an unedited version of this in your mailboxes
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But I can see this is going to get interesting... Keep it up!
I will PM you my email addy.
