Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Leaving the arena, we make our way back to the hotel, and within twenty minutes, we’re ready to hit up the VIP party at the rooftop bar.
There are fans spilled out onto the road while security works overtime trying to keep them contained, and as our SUV pulls to a stop outside the venue, each of us plasters on our fake smiles. “Showtime, boys,” Dylan announces, being the first out the door.
The crowd roars for him, and I watch his performance as he strides toward the door. He’s the best at turning it on for the fans. We could have walked through hell and back, and he would still have the energy to engage with his fans.
Rock scoots out of the SUV next, followed by Axel, and then finally, it’s my turn.
It’s a short walk from the SUV to the venue entrance, but that short walk seems to take a lifetime. Girls weep as I try to engage with as many fans as possible. I sign autographs and instinctively lean in when people shove smartphones in my face.
Women hang off me, refusing to let go after they’ve had their photo, and when one woman screams directly into my ear, I call it quits and continue to the door where the boys are waiting for me.
We ride the elevator right to the top, and the moment we step out into the VIP party, the place goes off. The DJ welcomes us over the microphone, and the eager partiers lose their shit.
Dylan fucking loves it, putting his hands up and striding through the roaring crowd as our manager beelines for the bar, hopefully to tell them our drink preferences with clear instructions to keep them coming.
The music is loud, and I’m grateful the DJ steers clear of our songs. There have been far too many times that we’ve walked into a party, hoping to relax, only for the DJ to play our songs. I understand it, of course. Plus, the fans love that shit, but when I’m out at a party, I’m done performing.
We’re ushered into a private area that looks out over the incredible city, and Rock immediately flops down on the couch. “Fuck me,” he says with a heavy sigh, bracing his hand behind his head as he gazes out at the eager partiers. “I’m wrecked.”
I couldn’t agree more.
I drop down beside him as Axel and Dylan hover by the balcony that overlooks the city. They gaze out at the sight, and I can’t lie, it’s fucking beautiful. We’ve been in Sydney a handful of times, seen all the sights, and done all the wildlife experiences, but there’s nothing quite like the city lights at night.
When our drinks arrive, the boys waste no time diving in.
Dylan remains by the balcony but turns to take in the two girls dancing by us, and judging by the desire in his eyes and the way they look back at him, there’s no denying that he’ll be taking both of them to bed tonight. A smirk lingers on his lips. “What are the chances they’re down to get fucked up?”
Rock groans. “Just keep it private,” he says. “We don’t need pictures of you snorting coke splashed across the internet first thing in the morning.”
“Since when am I not discreet?” he questions, already moving toward them. “Don’t worry about me, boys. I always keep it classy.”
I roll my eyes and drop my head forward, and even over the sound of the raging music, I can still hear their giggles as Dylan approaches.
Management ushers a few women into our space, and while they immediately drop down beside me, it’s Rock who gives them the attention they want. “You wanna have a little fun?” the girl beside me whispers in my ear as she drapes half of her body across me.
I glance up at her, and the look in her eye suggests she’s not talking about a quick fuck. “What do you have?”
“Molly. Coke.”
Damn. It’s fucking tempting, but with so many witnesses here, I won’t risk it. Like Dylan said, we keep it classy. Most of the time. While in private at home or in the studio, that’s different. Usually coke is my go-to, ecstasy’s never sat well with me, and with that long-ass flight tomorrow, I don’t want to be dealing with the fallout that comes from that.
“Nah, baby. I’m good.”
“You know, if you’re not down for that kind of fun, I’m sure I could please you in other ways.”
“I’m sure you could.”
Her tongue rolls over her bottom lip, and for a split moment, I consider taking her into the bathroom and seeing what those lips look like closed around my cock. Only Rock’s arm flings out in front of my face, pulling my attention from the girl beside me, and leaving the thoughts of her mouth on my cock to fade from existence.