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Sorensen
Home - Where My Thoughts Escape
Thu Jun 8, 2006 10:11
168.103.102.175

Eight months on the road was hell, but Lara wasn't trying to complain. Not when pouring her soul into her voice and fingers became such a heady rush that Bennet had been forced to ease her off stage more than once before the singer exhausted herself completely.

The tabloids were going crazy - it was almost as if Elvis Presley's daughter had gone on tour or something. Almost every week she saw another article comparing the two of them, which hurt more than she wanted to admit. But what was she going to do about it? Could do, really. Nothing. It had been the second or third night that the papers drove her to tears when he'd just settled her into his lap, stroking her back until the sobs eased.

And then he'd started stroking other things, and their mouths had become fused together ...

Lara blushed, just thinking about that night. There had been others, a couple when she just couldn't turn out the news media, and her drummer had comforted her then, too. The warm fuzzy feeling hadn't gone away, though, just intensified until she'd sought him out after a show in London and seduced his pants off.

Big men didn't scare her anymore - not when she was in love with one. Lara hadn't admitted that yet, not aloud. Not in so many words. The last thing the band needed was an affair between lead singer and drummer to fuel another round of vicious tabloid articles. The music counted more than anything else, a single minded vision she'd apparently inherited from her father.

There were other things to think about, though, like the expression on Bennet's face when he realized she'd set him up with the auditions. In fact, she was curled up at his side on account of that. Her lover had a very persuasive way of retaliating for stupid pranks, and Lara probably wouldn't be able to get out of bed until lunch because of it. For just a few minutes, she contented herself with studying his spikey-haired head while the lug slept, enjoying the feel of flesh against flesh, before duties prompted her out of bed and into the shower.

Somewhere during yesterday's auditions, she'd decided that sticking around New York for some down time would benefit the band. They could work on a new album and indulge themselves in some community service - namely all three of them stepping onstage. Even Alicia had shown up at auditions and garnered the part of a chorus member, if she wanted.

Showering took over twenty minutes, thanks to the daydreaming through the steam, and by the time Lara wandered out in her robe, Bennet was awake and far too alert for eight in the morning. Without a word, he reached out and tugged her back down next to him. His mouth gently assaulted hers, leaving the singer breatheless by the time he turned his attention to the skin beneath her robe, hands playing her like a damn fiddle until she couldn't hold a sane thought in her head.

Clock read after ten when they finally surfaced, the little colored dots in her vision fading away eventually. Bennet, the ass, grinned down at her with the sort of smirk that only a thoroughly satisfied man could conjure up. "Hey sunsine." Why he insisted on that pet name was beyond her; not only was Lara not a blonde, her mood was usually too intense for bubbly, sunny feelings. But at all the same . . .

"G'morning ...." She paused. "Wanna take a shower with me?" Not that much 'showering' would be involved if he did. And besides, they had to meet with her agent for lunch and discuss the next twelve months in detail. Bennet, he currently trying to seduce his way down her body again, was actually going to sign a contract to be represented by an agent friend of her own. That way, if anything went wrong, they'd both have some protection.

"No, but I'll take you in the shower." Oh, what a bad pun. She winced all twenty steps into the bathroom.

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