Page 7 of Symphonic Synergy
“I’m close, Larken. Don’t stop,” she begged.
I wished my parents’ room was up here and not on the main floor. A part of me wanted my mother to banish Kaye from our house and shame Larken so I didn’t have to listen to him getting what I wanted.
I closed my eyes and pictured her in my bed. Images of her fingers on my clit flooded my mind. My lips parted. I whispered her name as she moaned his, and we came in unison.
The door to the joint bathroom I shared with Larken opened, followed by the rushing tap water. She never lingered in the afterglow. It was always the same. Kaye had sex with my brother, then ran into the washroom and cried while he passed out.
Usually, I stared at the ceiling and pondered the pain that caused the sorrow escaping her lips, But at that moment, all I could think about was how she was suffering alone. It irked me in ways I didn’t understand.
Jumping out of bed, I threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top and headed to the washroom door. I didn’t bother knocking. I turned the doorknob and pushed my way in.
Kaye didn’t register that another person was in the room. She sat on the floor, arms wrapped around her legs, her entire body shaking as violent tears cascaded from her eyes.
I wanted to sit with her, put my arms around her, and give her my shoulder to mourn her sorrow. I wished I had words of comfort or a magical elixir to ease her suffering. The stabbing pain in my heart demanded I fix this, ease her pain, take her burdens, and shoulder them so she wouldn’t have to.
But I stared at her and nonchalantly blurted, “Why are you crying?”
Kaye’s head shot up, her cheeks wet, her eyes bloodshot. She didn’t answer my question. Instead, we stared at each other in silence.
I entered the bathroom barefoot, the tiles icy beneath my feet. I sat across from her, ignoring the cabinet handle digging into my spine. “Did Larken hurt you?”
She shook her head. “No. Larken would never hurt me physically.”
I moved closer so she could hear my hushed tone. “Then why are you crying?”
“It’s hard fighting to live when all you want to do is die.”
A vise gripped my heart as panic rose in every fiber of my being. It wasn’t Kaye’s words that frightened me, but the tone in which she said them—matter of fact, direct, and full of pain. Guilt wracked me, thinking about how I got myself off to the moans of the saddest person I’d ever seen.
I didn’t know what to say. My first instinct was to shake her, tell her she was being ridiculous and selfish. That she had people who cared about her and could help her. But I wasn’t sure if those were lies I’d be telling her or lies I had devised for myself. So I told her the truth.
“If you die, I’d miss you. So please stay.”
CHAPTER 5
Kaye
I’ve fucked groupies. A lot of them. For years, it’s been one of the best parts of the job. Cain and Lars aren’t into it. They go off and do their own thing. But Iggy, Marley, and I party. I always make sure it’s discreet, and I vet the girls. Don’t want some crazy popping up months later with a scandal. I even draw up contracts and insist everyone uses a condom.
But I throw all my careful planning and caution out the window as I witness Piper Hughes being eaten out by some blonde groupie. I do the only thing I can think of—kiss a random redhead and pretend to enjoy it.
I want to know who taught this woman to kiss. She’s forcing me to deep-throat her tongue. Doesn’t she know she won’t discover the mysteries of the world in my esophagus?
Why does Piper have to be so damn attractive? She shines brightly, forcing me to look at nothing and no one but her.
I hate every moment of kissing the tongue darter, but I ignore her sloppy kissing to wonder if Piper’s blonde groupie will ditch her to fuck a member of Gutless Void. A lot of these hangers-on are social climbers. Like this enthusiastic redhead who thinks I’m the gatekeeper for the guys from Gutless Void. I’m sure Marley and Iggy would have a go at either of them. The two men would be shiny notches on these groupies’ bedposts.
I twist my fingers in the redhead’s hair. It feels like fuckin’ straw. Is Piper’s hair still silky soft? It looks like it is. Piper could have been a hair model for designer shampoo brands in her teens. Women would sell their souls to possess raven hair like Piper’s. But her once-long locks are now cut short and look edgy and cool.
I tug the groupie’s hair and dislodge her grotesque tongue from my mouth. “How about you collect your friends, sweetheart, and I’ll introduce you to Gutless Void?”
The redhead’s eyes round, and her lips form an excited smile. “O-M-G. Will Blaze be there?”
I wouldn’t be shocked if she clapped her hands and jumped up and down in excitement.
Why do all the groupies want to fuck Cain? Gutless Void is the only band in the world where the drummer gets more action than the lead singer. Must be because Cain looks like a damn giant with a deep voice that could pass for the devil himself.
“He’s probably too busy, but Striker and Mayhem should be eager and willing to entertain you.” I’m pimping out two of my best friends for pussy. I’m no better than a man.