blind eyes

17 Sunday

Author's Note: Firstly, a forewarning: while this chapter does not contain sex, it contains mention of some sexiness. If that is somehow objectionable, please don't read. Nextly, again, I apologize - I am way behind on my updates and comments, I am simply swamped with real-life. Therefore, this is a short update ... but it's an update.

She was not an idiot. Clearly, something was going on with Christopher: one minute he was up—literally hard as steel and rabid—and the next he was doing his best raging bull impersonation. He'd been this way for much of the tour, and Sunday was exhausted from the bipolarity of the situation. Then there was last night's amazing fuck in the front lounge and the beautiful woman who seemed to know her. What the actual fuck was going on?

Rolling over in the hotel bed and praying that she could waste their day off beneath the blankets, she groaned.

"Are you thinking about that chick Shawna?" Chris yawned from beside her. She felt his heavy body roll and he wrapped a long, tattooed arm around her burritoed form. "That's still really bothering you, isn't it?"

"No, yes," Sunday groaned as she tried to scrunch herself tighter into the comfort of her self-made cave. It was, it wasn't; everything was gnawing at her emotions at the moment. All she wanted to do was to black out the world and suspend herself in the moment so that she didn't have to think about any of this bullshit.

"Talk to me," he sighed and she felt him trying to wiggle closer. "Something is bothering you big time, Day. I know you and I know you're agitated about something."

"Things," she groaned in frustrated defeat, trying to pull her toes inside her duvet shell. "Everything, really. I'm just ... I need to sleep." Sleep was her favorite avoidance tactic.

"Is it because of last night?" he wagered a guess. Sitting up in bed and placing his back to the hideous headboard, he ran his hands up into his disheveled locks. "Are you upset that Vin heard?"

Sunday considered this and, yes, she wasn't thrilled that Vinny and several of the crew had heard all the aural theatrics of their romp, but that was hardly what was on her mind. She was unnerved by the fact that this girl Shawna knew who she was, but more so, it was everything with Chris that was leaving her feeling a little broken and defeated. But admitting that was likely to lead to an argument, and today all she wanted to do was ignore her troubles and stay in bed. Saying something to him now would only destroy the peace.

Of course, suddenly Chris cared. Nudging her bundled form gently with a finger, he made a noise. "Look, Day, I know things haven't been great for the past few weeks; this tour has been rough on our relationship, for sure. But I want you to know that I love you and it means the world to me that you're here with me, supporting me and the band. I'm not the world's best boyfriend by any means, but I'm trying here. I love you."

Sunday continued to try to bury herself further into the pile of fabrics and made a grunting noise. Her boyfriend sighed in defeat. "I'll be quiet and let you sleep." There was some fidgeting and jostling, but the room fell into a hush and Sunday slipped back into a peaceful, mindless slumber for several more hours. Blissful, enticing numbness was definitely the answer to her troubles.

The second time around, she woke to loud voices. Still hiding out in her burrito of warmth, she honed in on the sound and realized it was coming from next door—Ryan's room. She cringed at the thought of Ryan fucking the busty blonde so loud that it was traveling through the walls and straight to her ears. But sure enough, she was hearing heated moans slipping from the woman's mouth, along with the occasional, "Fuck, Ryan!"

She still wished she knew why the woman—presumably a groupie that Ryan had picked up the night or two before—knew her name and seemed to know who she was. Did Ryan talk about her for some reason? Had she done something to him that she wasn't aware of? Was he upset with her? This tour had been hell on her emotions and she found that she wasn't even certain anymore of her relationship, let alone, her friendships.

Sulking silently, she listened as the headboard next door slammed repeatedly into a wall and Sunday envisioned Shawna riding atop the guitarist. Both of their voices were intermingling now, but the female was louder as she cried out, "I want, Ryan! I want you to watch as I—and show that women do everything better than men." Clearly some of the words were garbled or missing, but Sunday certainly didn't care. She couldn't help but snicker at Shawn's final thought.

"I'm a man," the brunette snorted loudly and then there was a growl. "Fuck, Shawna, don't do that! I'm going to cum right away if you keep doing that!"

Cringing, Sunday climbed unhappily from the enormous, comfortable bed and traipsed towards the bathroom. It was on the opposite side of the room and, hopefully, beneath the shower spray she'd be unable to hear her neighbors fucking like pornstars. Naked and annoyed, she stomped into the lavish bathroom to find quite a shocking sight: her boyfriend was reclined in a sea of bubbles in the porcelain bowl tub, his raven locks slicked back from his face and his eyes shut in peace.

Approaching the tub, she smirked down at him. "Master Cerulli, are you awake?"

"Mmmkinda," he groaned without opening his eyes. "Who can sleep with those two shooting a porno next door?"

Sunday made a noise that was an amused giggle coupled with an annoyed snort as she began to step into the tub, and then carefully lowered herself down into Chris' lap. The water was somehow still steaming hot and it felt magical on her exhausted muscles as she sunk into his smooth chest and rested her head on his tattooed shoulder. "Good for Ryan, though. I haven't even seen him talking to a girl the entire tour, so this is a real turn-around for him."

"Did you hear what she was saying?" her boyfriend prodded cautiously. Beginning to massage her hips beneath the hot water, he smirked into her cheek. "More specifically, did you hear what she was saying about you?"

Gasping, Sunday nearly spun 180 degrees in his lap. Sitting up straight and feeling her weight press back against his semi-erect length, she blushed. "What was that?"

"Oh fucking hell, Day," he grunted as he rearranged himself against her lower back. "She was going on about how she wants you, she wants to taste you. She wants to dominate you and have you begging beneath her. There was something about the four of us playing together, and how she wants to guide Ryan's cock into your cunt and ride me while we watch him fuck the shit out of you." His face flushed and voice growing husky, he paused and then his smirk widened. "And she mentioned tying you up and worshipping your cunt with her tongue if you were a good girl."

Sunday cringed at the idea of group sex with a stranger and one of her best friends on the tour. Feeling equal parts confused and awkwardly uncomfortable, she felt Chris' growing excitement beginning to press against her spine. "I don't think that would be a very good idea. In fact, I know that's a terrible idea. Can you imagine the drama that could incite?"

"A guy can dream," Chris grinned and pressed his lips into her neck to laugh. "Just the thought of her worshipping your body made me so fucking hard, babe. Can I confess something?"

"Did you do things to yourself?" his naughty girlfriend inquired as she began to gyrate her backside against his growing length. "Is that what you want to confess?"

"Hell yeah I did," he laughed as he lifted her up and spun her to face him. "And I'd like to do some things to you now. But no, that wasn't what I had in mind."

With her hands on his shoulders and her lips hovering above his, she smiled sweetly. "Well, what then?"

"I've never been with two women at once." His handsome face actually blushed and he avoided her eyes.

Sunday actually found herself shocked and a bit amused. Pressing a playful kiss to the tip of his nose, she wiggled her brows at him. "Oh really? I didn't think that there was anything that Master Cerulli hadn't tried."