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“I’ll get you naked on screen eventually.” He promises despite my shaking head. “And you’ll be screaming my name.” He winks into the camera, the action pooling wetness between my legs.
“When you get here.” I tease back, my ears on fire either from embarrassment or arousal, I’m not entirely sure. Probably both.
“Ian!” Rex barks, the screen jostling with his sudden movement. “Ian, we must go now!”
“What’s your deal?” I hear Ian’s gruff voice in the distance.
He always sounds like he’s over Rex’s shit and it’s hilarious considering he’s mild compared to how I’ve seen Mac act.
“She’s gonna—“
“You better not fucking tell him that!” I cut him off, yelling into the mic with as much fire as I feel burning at my face.
“But, babe.” Rex’s gaze meets mine. “How else will he understand how serious it is to leave right now.”
“Right now? When the fucking plane has no fuel yet, you twit? Go sit your ass down.” Ian’s stern comments remind me of a dad who’s had enough shit for today.
“Pop’s mad,” Rex confirms with a laugh and settles back into a seat closer to the gate.
“Don’t do that. It’s weird.” Ian chastises, Rex’s eyes looking over the phone at his bodyguard.
“You’re weird.” Rex refutes but brings his attention back to me. “I’m coming home soon, babe.” He smiles for me, bright and full of love.
“You’ll stay with me?” I ask, hope surging in my chest.
Not only would I have Rex in my bed, but maybe … maybe the girls could see how cool Rex really is. Maybe they could get to know him and understand where I’m coming from.
“Absolutely.” He’s resolute in his answer. “Every second you’ll have me, babe.”
“I fucking love you.” I breathe into the phone.
“I love you, babe.”
32
REX
The airport sucks.
It takes forever to get anywhere and there’s always too many people inhibiting forward progress.
Pap’s hold us up as they demand my attention and try desperately to snap pics of my bruised face, blaming different shit despite all the videos online of what happened.
I’m surrounded by security, but it doesn’t stop the assault of questions and bodies.
Did your brother hit you?
Are you in a feud with Toby?
Did you knock up someone else’s girl?
Who did you piss off? Is there a band feud going on?
Ian’s front is pressed to my back with way more intimacy than I’d prefer to have with another man, his arms around me to ward off headshots and his hands firmly grasping the shoulders of the guard in front of me.
He’s in the same position as me, intimately familiar with how my front feels pressed into his fucking back.
Poor bastard
