Dylan nods, his lips curving into a faint, half-hearted smile. “Yeah, of course,” he replies, though his tone lacks conviction. “But for now, let’s stay in bed a little longer. I’m not ready to share you with everyone else yet.”
Before I can respond, he grabs the blanket, wrapping it snugly around me, and flips me onto my side so I’m facing the edge of the bunk. A laugh slips out as he nestles himself against my back, cocooning me in his warmth. “Okay, we’ll stay here,” I agree, my voice soft with amusement.
The silence that follows is warm and comforting. Dylan’s hand brushes lightly along my arm, his gentle touch relaxing me into a peaceful haze. My thoughts begin to wander, drifting through the chaos of the last few weeks with the band and the uncertainty of what lies ahead. The lingering fear of losing my job and, more importantly, my place with them, looms in the back of my mind.
Dylan’s touch shifts, his hand trailing from my arm to glide across my front. His palm brushes against my breasts, sending a spark of awareness coursing through me. My breath catches as he repeats the motion, his fingers teasing over the sensitive peaks of my nipples.
My worries scatter like leaves in the wind as I arch back into him, craving more. Dylan’s hand grows bolder,fondling my breasts with gentle strokes and plucks. His hard length presses against my ass, and I bite my lip to stifle a moan. His nose grazes my neck, his light stubble further igniting my already heightened sensitivity.
Turning in his arms, I meet his heated gaze and close the distance between us, capturing his lips in a fervent kiss. Everything else fades away, leaving only the two of us cocooned in the intimacy of his tiny bunk.
Our lips break apart and I shift down the small bed until I’m level with Dylan’s waist. His eyes widen, surprise flickering across his face as I tug down his sweatpants. He doesn’t stop me, only watches, confusion and curiosity mingling in his gaze.
“Lily, what are you doing?” he asks, his voice husky.
“Taking care of you,” I respond, offering him what I hope is a saucy wink.
I take him into my mouth, grounding myself in the salty taste of his skin. Dylan’s breath hitches, his hand tangling in my hair as he guides me gently. His length fills my mouth, hitting the back of my throat and a tear winds down my cheek.
I focus on the moment, on Dylan, determined to push away the darkness that threatens to overwhelm us both.
As I work his length in and out of my throat, the tension in his body begins to change from stress to pleasure, his breathing growing ragged. He whispers my name like a prayer, his hips thrusting upwards as his release builds.
“Fuck, Lily,” he groans, his grip tightening in my hair. “You’re amazing.”
His words bring a strange mix of pride and comfort. I want to be his anchor, the one who keeps him groundedwhen everything else feels like it’s falling apart. I quicken my pace, taking him deeper, my hands gripping his thighs for leverage.
When he finally comes, he shudders with a deep, satisfied groan as his seed empties inside my mouth. I lick up his length twice more, savoring every last drop before pulling away.
He tugs me up his body to lie beside him, and I rest my head on his chest. He wraps an arm around me, pulling our bodies as close as possible. His fingers move to slip into my pajama bottoms, but I still his hand.
“This was about you,” I whisper.
He pauses. His fingers still tangled in my clothes, before offering a nod and laying his arm back across my waist. “Thank you,” he whispers in a tone slightly deeper than usual. “I needed that.”
“You’re welcome. Everything will be okay. I promise.”
Dylan presses a lingering kiss to my forehead, his lips soft and warm. “I hope you’re right, Lily. I really do.”
We stay curled up together for a few more minutes, the steady rhythm of Dylan’s heartbeat beneath my ear grounding me. The warmth and comfort of the moment almost makes me forget the chaos outside the small bubble of his bunk. Eventually, the faint stirrings of activity on the bus shatter the fragile illusion of peace.
Dylan leans down, brushing one last searing kiss across my lips before we pull apart. He jumps down from his bed, offering me his hand and tugging me into the hallway. I walk ahead of him to the main living space.
Stepping into the kitchen area, I spot Marcus standing shirtless by the coffee pot. His phone pressed to his ear with one hand while the other flips the switch to start thebrew. His back is to me, but the strain in his posture is unmistakable. His voice is low, the words indiscernible as I move closer, curiosity tugging at me.
“When?” Marcus asks, the impatience in his tone cutting through the quiet. He pauses, listening to the response on the other end of the line. “Alright, we’ll see you in a few minutes.” With a heavy sigh, he sets his phone on the counter and leans against it, rubbing his forehead.
I step closer and wrap my arms around his waist from behind, pressing my cheek to the warmth of his bare back. He stiffens for a moment before twisting in my embrace to face me, a soft smile barely covering the strain on his features.
“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice gentler now.
“Good morning,” I reply, matching his smile. “Who was on the phone?”
“Harris,” he says with a grimace.
My smile fades as my brow furrows. “He’s coming here?”
“Unfortunately,” Marcus confirms, his lips tightening. “And it sounds like he’s just a couple minutes away.”
