blind eyes

10 Chris

"I'm just so glad that you're feeling better." She sat on the edge of the hotel bed, tugging her too tight jeans back up her long legs. "It sucks when I can't fuck you."

Chris snorted as he checked his phone anxiously, and then began searching the floor for his discarded t-shirt. "I know, baby, but we have to be careful. I don't want Sunday to start to suspect anything—that would just be a migraine that I don't need in the middle of a tour."

"Let her suspect," the blonde rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Get rid of her, Chris. If you fire her and send her packing, then there's no problem and we don't have to watch around every corner. We can spend more time together! I'm tired of sitting up on that boring ass bus all damn day, staring at the ceiling while Spencer tells jokes that make him sound like a serial killer. That guy is fucking whacked."

He fell back onto the hotel bed and laughed. "What did you think your day would be like when you signed on to sell INK's merch, Alex?"

At this, she stood up and wiggled the waist of her skintight black pants into place and then stepped back into her neon green kitten heels. "You're mocking me. I knew that there'd be a lot of boring down time and that I'd be dealing with a shit-ton of boxes, but I didn't think that I'd spend 10 hours a day entertaining a bunch of apes. Do you know that they've watched 'Idle Hands' 20 times already on this tour? That's one of the worst films of all-time."

The vocalist groaned but continued staring up at the ceiling. "Those apes are my friends." Sighing, he finally sat up and ran his hands up into his dark locks. "And I can't fire Sunday. She does an amazing job, she gets along with everyone, and she's helped to take some of the needless stress off Bryce so that he can actually focus on what we're paying him to do. Plus, she works for next to nothing and never complains that she's being paid peanuts."

"Because you're fucking her, babe." Alex began fluffing her white-blonde hair as she stared in the lengthy mirror above the sleek desk. "The bitch isn't going to complain because she thinks you're her boyfriend, and you told her that the label is pinching pennies on this tour. She's no dummy, Christopher. She's going to keep her mouth shut and take one for the team, because she loves you."

Storm clouds crossed his brown eyes as he focused his attention to his fidgeting fingers. "Look, I know this is a fucking mess, Lex, but just give me some more time. I have to find a way to make Sunday leave of her own accord, okay?"

"Let her catch us," Alex wiggled her perfectly-shaped brows as she stepped between his knees and placed her hands onto his shoulders. "We can plan it so that she walks in on us, and sees me riding your big cock. She will pack her shit and head home instantly, I guarantee it. She's not going to stand for being cheated on. I'd like to think that we're good friends and I know that she won't tolerate that shit."

"Good friends," he snorted.

"Shut up," she warned, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. "I'm going to sneak out and go back to the nightmare that is my daily life. Thanks for the fuck, baby boy. Text me next time we can do this again. I'm almost positive that your tongue is magical, because I felt the stress of my day just melt away onto your face."

Escorting her to the door, he frowned as she stepped into the hallway. "I'll figure something out, okay? I just have to wrap my head around what to do to convince Day that she should bail out before the end of the tour and go home."

"Sooner rather than later," she smirked over her shoulder as she sauntered down the carpeted hall, exaggerating the sway of her lush hips. "I can't see 'Idle Hands' again before I go nuts and kill Spencer. Do you want to have a murder on your hands?"