1: Just Another Thing

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“Get your hand off me, Bill,” I slapped his hand away from my ass. It wasn’t the first time he groped me but it was going to be the last time. I was over it.

“Feisty,” he commented, as if that was encouragement.

“Look, for the last time, I’m not going to have sex with you so you can just get over it,” I told him. Bellefleur Lounge wasn’t the only bar in town with an open mic night. I didn’t need him or his sleazy club. While my music was for sale, my soul wasn’t. I’d rather spend the rest of my life slinging hash than sellout and sleep with a guy like Bill.

It was so much easier when I wasn’t a solo act. I didn’t have to worry about being trapped alone with some smarmy douchebag like Bill. Unfortunately, when my ex and I parted ways, the rest of our band decided to stay with him. That meant I was on my own. Most of the time I was fine. I could do what I wanted to do, write the songs I wanted to write, and go in any direction I wanted without worrying about what four other people wanted.

“Who said anything about sex?” Bill said in that smooth, smarmy tone of his.

“I’m here to play music, that’s all.”

“And I’m suggesting we could make beautiful music together, Sookie.”

Gross.

“And I’m suggesting you eat shit and die,” I replied.

His dark blue eyes narrowed.

“Consider yourself cancelled,” he told me.

“Bummer.” I grabbed my messenger bag off the piano bench and slung it over my shoulder.

“You’re never going to play another club in town.”

“That’s what you think.”

“That’s what I know. Just wait and see,” he replied.

I wasn’t worried about whatever power Bill thought he had. There were plenty of club owners in town who didn’t like him. Besides, the world was bigger than this little burg. I wasn’t afraid of moving out of Nashville. Hell, I’d been thinking about it for a while. Just because it was a music mecca didn’t mean it was my only option. I’d be damned if I was going to let someone like Bill try to scare me off my path in life.

“You’re not going anywhere, Stackhouse!” he yelled from behind me. It was pathetic.

I let the heavy metal door slam behind me. I walked around the corner of the bar and down the street. Where I was going, I had no idea. I was supposed to be performing that night but that was out the window. In the morning I would probably regret running my mouth like that but I just… I had enough.

I was rapidly approaching my mid-twenties. It was make or break time. I knew breaking into the music business wasn’t something that happened overnight. If I was smart, I’d just keep my head down and keep writing songs that could potentially be hits. It worked for Sam Hunt, right? I could just keep posting my stuff on YouTube and hope that my base kept growing. As much as I hated those stupid TV talent shows, I couldn’t deny the exposure I’d get from them would be incredible. Maybe The Voice was my next stop. I’d been thinking about it for a while.

At the moment I got so wrapped up in my thoughts that I didn’t realize where I was going until I got there. 666 Harmony Drive, to be exact. I sighed and caught sight of the names listed beside the buzzers for the various apartments. The building used to be a meat packing plant before it was converted into studios and lofts. It just so happened my ex-boyfriend lived on the third floor in one of the lofts.

For a few minutes I stood there and had a debate with myself over whether or not to ring the damn buzzer. Eric and I had dated off and on for two years before I finally called it quits. We could never seem to get our shit together for long. It made for some great songwriting, but I got tired of the rollercoaster ride. The highs were great but the lows were a real killer. In the end, if there was anyone who might understand my frustration, it was him.

So I pushed the button to buzz his apartment.

Of course after that I promptly prayed that he wouldn’t answer, that he’d be at a gig somewhere.

“Yeah?” I heard over the intercom close to a minute later.

Fuuuuuuuuuck!

I had two choices. I could pretend I never rang his buzzer and run or I could answer him like a damn grown-up would.

“It’s Sookie,” I answered. I didn’t want to air all my laundry on the street.

“Oh… yeah, come up.” The buzzer sounded before the lock clicked opening the door for me.

I pulled the door open and walked into the building. Originally I was from a small town in Louisiana. I had some friends in Tennessee, but Eric was the easiest to talk to. There was a creaky old elevator that I got into to take me up to the third floor instead of taking all those stairs. When I got off on Eric’s floor the sliding door leading into his apartment was open. I walked in and pulled the door shut behind me. It had been a while since I saw him last. At first we went out of our way to avoid each other, well, I did. I wasn’t sure if his pride made him do the same.

But now there he was, shirtless and wearing a pair of black jeans. Ugh. Damn it.

Keep your eyes up. Do not look at his abs!

“Hey,” I said casually as if I belonged there in his apartment and it wasn’t weird at all.

“Hey,” he replied. “How have you been?” Eric walked up to me. He didn’t seem like he was too sure what to do with his hands. They were normally on me when we were together.

“Okay, I guess. I just fled Bellefleur Lounge. Bill grabbed my ass again,” I told him.

The same old protective growl left his throat.

“I should go over there and rip his fucking hands off,” Eric growled. “He’s a fucking predator.”

“According to him he just asked me to make ‘music’ with him.” I dropped my bag on a chair.

“I don’t know why you still go there, Sookie. Come on, I’ll grab you a beer.” He motioned for me to follow him to the kitchen.

“I won’t be going there anymore. I told him to eat shit and die, at which point he threatened to have me blacklisted from every club in the city.” I liked his place. It had just one bedroom but it was a pretty open space and it was a good place to work on songwriting and practicing new work. We’d spent plenty of nights up late drinking beer, writing songs, and smoking the occasional joint.

“Since when does Bill have the authority to have you blacklisted?” Eric grabbed two bottles from the fridge, cracking one open for me before handing it to me and opening his own.

“Beats the hell out of me. Until I walked in there three months ago I had no idea who he was.” I probably knew more people around Nashville than Bill Compton did, but he was the kind of guy who liked to believe he was hot shit no matter what.

“If it’s any consolation, you do have a spectacular ass,” he chuckled.

“I prefer it without Bill Compton’s handprint on it,” I huffed.

Eric set down his beer and moved forward to wrap me in his strong arms.

“Say the word and I’ll make sure he can’t touch any woman’s body ever again,” he whispered. I knew he was serious.

“He’s not worth it. You’re too pretty for prison, Eric.”

“I am, but it may be worth it,” he said as his big hands rubbed up and down my back.

As much as I enjoyed his hugs, there were alarm bells going off in my head.

“I probably shouldn’t be here. This isn’t your problem,” I said. Yet when I looked up at his ridiculously handsome face all I wanted to do was kiss him. No. No you’re not, young lady.

“Sookie, we started as friends, which makes it my problem. You know I’d do anything for you,” Eric told me.

I pulled back and asked, “How’s the band doing? You guys find a new singer yet?”

“Not yet. We’ve auditioned about a hundred and fifty singers. None of them are right,” he sighed. “Other than that, everyone is doing well.”

“Glad to hear everyone is doing well. Sorry to hear you’re having trouble filling my shoes.” I couldn’t help feeling a little satisfaction about that.

“You’re not that sorry,” he smirked. “The right one will come along sooner or later.”

I sighed and said, “Yeah, I’ve been tellin’ myself that since I was fourteen.”

“Let’s go sit on the couch,” he said. He grabbed his beer again.

I grabbed its twin and followed him into the living room. He had a really cozy, deep couch. I plopped down on it, sitting so my right hip so I was facing him and leaning against the back of the couch. It just so happened to make my cleavage look good. Oops.

When Eric sat down he faced me too. It didn’t escape my notice he sat a little closer than he probably should have. His eyes didn’t miss the cleavage.

“Other than the Bill bullshit, how have you been?” His arm rested on the back of the couch.

“Okay. Same shit different day, mostly. Work is work. I’ve been performing there weekly. That’s over.” I took a drink of the beer.

“You’re not going to have an issue finding a new place to play,” he told me. I felt Eric’s fingers playing with the ends of my hair like he always did.

“It took a while to find Bellefleur’s. No one seemed to interested in me solo. I’ve been thinking about maybe getting out of here and starting over somewhere else.”

“You know how hard that’s going to be, right? Not that I don’t think you can do it,” he added quickly. “I know you can.”

“I know it won’t be easy. It was tough when I first got here but it worked… for a while.” I could waitress anywhere. There was nothing special about Nashville. “I’m thinking maybe going east to the Carolinas.”

“Wherever you end up, your biggest fan will always be here,” he smiled.

“You’re not my biggest fan,” I snorted.

“Pffft, says who?”

“Says my Gran back in Louisiana, that’s who.”

“Okay, then I’ll be your second biggest fan,” he chuckled before taking a drink of his beer.

“Mmhmm.” I took another drink too. If only I believed that. His wandering eyes told me otherwise.

“So, how far into your getting out of Nashville plan have you gotten?”

“Not too far. I’m still in the thinking about it stage. Maybe when I get home I’ll do some research on Wilmington. I’ve heard good things about it. Austin, Texas wouldn’t be so bad except they’re fuckin’ crazy down there. Dinosaurs and Jesus runnin’ around together in their history books. No thanks.”

“You’d be better off in L.A.”

“Maybe. I never really wanted to be in Los Angeles though. At least no full-time.” I crossed my legs and when my left leg shook a little, Eric’s eyes momentarily drifted back to my boobs since they were shaking.

“Who wants to end up in Los Angeles? I’m just saying it would be better than Texas.” His eyes flicked up to mine before the shot down to my tits again.

He was so predictable that way. Eric was all about the boobies.

I set my beer down on the coffee table and got up to retrieve my phone from my bag. On the walk back to his couch I pulled up Google to see if Wilmington did open mic nights. I smiled at the results.

“Oooh jackpot,” I said. “There’s a cafe that does open mic nights like three nights a week.”

“Where’s that at?” When I sat back down Eric moved closer so he could look at my phone over my shoulder.

“Wilmington,” I answered and looked into his eyes. “Karen’s Cafe is the name of the place. It’s co-owned by a former musician.”

“Wilmington is beautiful, too,” he said. I could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“It’s right by the ocean. I could spend time by the beach. Man, I could write some songs during sunrise…” I pulled up pictures of Wilmington to take a closer look at it.

“While I sit here and imagine how gorgeous you look in the early morning light,” he said with a small smile.

“I was not expecting the sentence to end with early morning light. I thought for sure you’d be thinking bikini,” I teased. I turned the phone so he could see a gorgeous shot of the beach with all the tall grass, white sand and the waves breaking. It looked like it might have been sunset when the picture was taken. “Yeah, I could live here.”

“I could too,” he agreed.

“Eh, you’ll be happy here with the band. What would Newlin do without you?”

“We’re barely making it work without you, they can make it work without me,” he replied.

“What would you do in Wilmington?”

“Play guitar while you sing at open mic,” he laughed quietly.

“Oh so we’re gettin’ the band back together?” I laughed too. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Eric.”

“It’s a joke, sweetheart,” he chuckled.

“Uh huh, well I’m just saying. You know what happens when we get together.” The music was good and so was the sex, but everything else was a flaming hot mess.

“Oh, I know what happens, alright.” His fingertips brushed over the side of my neck.

“We’ve been down that road quite a few times already.” We both knew how it was going to end.

“I know,” he sighed. “I won’t put you through that torture again.”

“We shouldn’t put each other through it.” I picked up my beer and took another drink. I tapped on another picture and smiled after I swallowed the mouthful of beer I had taken from the bottle. “Mmm, this is gorgeous. I don’t know, I might just have to load up all my junk into one of those little U-Haul trailers and make a run for it.”

“If you open the back to find me stowed away, don’t be surprised.” His fingers traveled to the back of my neck where he continued to play with my hair.

“You know you’d probably do better here without me around to distract you,” I suggested.

“You’re not a distraction.”

“Then why would you want to go to North Carolina?” He said it was a joke but he mentioned it a second time so I didn’t think he was kidding.

“Maybe we can find someone worth our time as a singer there,” he said.

“Oh so you’re bringing the whole band with you then?”

“If they want to come,” he smiled.

“Uh huh.” I turned off the screen on my phone and set it on the coffee table before taking another pull from my beer bottle.

“Or, I can stay here and continue the search.” Eric took another drink of his beer.

“You know, part of the reason I’d be leaving is to get away from you,” I told him.

“I’m not surprised.”

“It’s probably the only way we’ll ever stay away from each other,” I pointed out. There wouldn’t be any late night booty calls or random hookups with a thousand miles between us.

“Most likely,” he agreed. He started to gently massage my shoulder.

“I should probably finish my beer and get gone.” I took a longer drink from the bottle. I knew what those hands could do if I let them. Tempting as it was, it was probably a terrible idea.

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.” He took a drink of his beer before he leaned forward to set the bottle on the table. He smelled delicious.

“Especially if I decide to take my clothes off, right?”

“You don’t have to, but you also wouldn’t get any complaints from me.”

I laughed at that. It was the most honest thing he’d said all night, aside from that bit about Bill when I first got there.

“Nah, I’ll leave my clothes on. If I take them off we both know things are going to happen.”

“That’s fine. Believe it or not, I actually like being around you.”

“I know you do. The problem is that it never lasts for long. It’s better if I quit while I’m ahead.”

“I’m not going to force you to stay.”

“I know. I didn’t plan on coming here. I left the bar and started walking. Next thing I knew, I was standing in front of your building.” It was a completely subconscious decision.

“What does that tell you?”

“That I need to do a hard reset on my internal memory.”

“Or this is where you’re supposed to be right now.” Those Caribbean blue eyes locked onto mine.

“That’s optimistic of you.” Those eyes were tricky. Looking into them had a way of pulling me in. To prove it, the next thing I knew we were almost nose to nose.

“You know I always look for the silver lining,” he whispered, reaching up to cup the side of my face. Eric’s thumb slowly traced my jaw.

“Oh that’s what you’re always looking for?” My lips brushed his. I swear it was him that moved in to do that. I knew better… That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

“Mmhmm.” His lips fully claimed mine as his hand moved around to cup the back of my head, holding me close. He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss as our tongues began to move in a slow, familiar dance.

Yep, I knew all the steps to that tango. I’d done it so many times. Every time I told myself was the last time and somehow I ended up right back with him. He probably thought all my talk about leaving Tennessee was just talk. Maybe six months ago it would have been in the hope of getting him to act like he gave a damn about me, but now I had no reason to stick around. He and I were done. I didn’t have a regular gig in Nashville. Even if Bill was just blowing smoke about being able to blacklist me, I didn’t want to have to deal with him anymore. I was just over it all.

Still, I couldn’t shove Eric away like I should have. His lips felt good on mine. I liked the way his fingers felt in my hair and how he managed to set the beer bottle I was holding on the coffee table without interrupting the kiss. Slowly he pulled me closer until I was straddling him. He took his time getting my tank top off and I didn’t even fight when my bra went with it.

Eric’s lips found mine again once I was bare from the waist up. His hands went to my tits where he began to pluck my nipples, gently tugging the way I liked. His other hand slipped down between us so he could pop the button on my jeans. I could feel Eric’s erection growing against my inner thigh.

Now’s the time to cut this off, Sookie. Just pull away and tell him it’s a bad– The devil on my shoulder cuntpunted the angel, rendering her speechless. I didn’t push Eric’s hand away when it slipped into my jeans. Of course my traitor body moaned when he sought out and located my clit. My hips rocked in response, which allowed me to rub against that growing erection of his. It wouldn’t be long before my jeans and panties went flying across the room.

As a matter of fact, the next thing I knew Eric was rolling us without breaking the kiss. I ended up on my back with his heavy body on top of mine. One of his hands found mine, threading his fingers through mine. The other hand ended up in my jeans again, his thick fingers slipping through my folds. I moaned into the kiss and had to pull away from it to catch my breath. My head turned and found that spot on his neck that always drove him a little crazy. My tongue swirled in a slow circle and then I sucked lightly on his heated skin.

“Mmm,” he hummed. His hand pushed a little deeper into my jeans. Two of his fingers slid into me, pulling back slowly. He made sure to curl at just the right spot, making me moan.

“Eric,” I gasped. He knew what he was doing. Eric knew exactly what buttons to push and when to get me going. “Fuck, you’re gonna need to take those jeans off,” I panted when he continued to rub that spot.

His eyes locked onto mine as he continued to rub. He stroked my g-spot until I was right on the edge before he pulled his fingers out of me. Eric sat up on his knees so he could pull my jeans off, hooking my panties in the process. They went flying before he stood up and dropped his own jeans.

“Better?” he smirked. He knelt on the couch and then bent over to rub his tongue through my slick folds.

“Much,” I moaned. My fingers ran through his hair. The man’s tongue was… wow.

Again his experience paid off. His arm rested over my lower abdomen to keep me steady while his tongue did its work. I gasped and moaned as the pressure built deep in my belly.

“Eric… oh fuck,” I moaned, my hips trying desperately to move to match the movement of his tongue and fingers. He just kept right on going, only slowing down when I exploded a short time later.

“Mmm, it’s been too long since I had you.” He sat up on his knees, stroking his solid erection.

“So long you should get a condom so I don’t catch something?”

“Not that long,” he replied. He rubbed his tip through my slit. He paid a little extra attention to my clit for a few seconds before he pushed his cock down and slid into me. “Oh fuck…” he breathed.

Indeed. Eric was very well endowed and my body wasn’t used to him anymore.

“Sweet baby Jesus,” I said as he slowly thrust into me, giving my body a moment to adjust to him. As soon as I did, however, I knew he wouldn’t be keeping it slow and sweet. That just wasn’t his style.

I was just fine with that.

As soon as I adjusted Eric’s hips sped up so he was filling me completely on each deep thrust. He arched over my body after a moment and caught my left nipple between his lips. He sucked each time he surged forward.

“Oh fuck,” I panted. My hips lifted off the couch to meet his thrusts. I let my hands settle on his ass and try to pull him deeper into me, which made him growl and swivel his hips on the next stroke. “Yes! Right there!” I cried out when he found the magic spot again.

He lifted his head to look into my eyes. He had always been big on eye contact.

“Let me feel you cum for me, baby,” he purred.

Hitting that spot again and again and again was the way to get me to cross that finish line first, and sure enough that was exactly what happened. And in record time.

My fingertips dug into his gorgeous backside when my walls clamped down on his thick shaft.

“Eric!” I cried out, my entire body tensing and then trembling with the yummy waves of the orgasm.

“Good girl,” he smiled. He pulled out and quickly turned me onto my stomach. Eric pulled my ass up before sliding into me from behind. He didn’t go slow, he started driving into me hard so his hips were slapping against my ass.

“Ohhh… oh my god,” I moaned. I let my head rest on the cushion while he drove into me again and again and again. It wasn’t my intention to have sex with him when I came upstairs but I wasn’t sorry it was happening. Maybe in the morning I’d feel different, but for the moment I was going to enjoy myself. That included the light slap on my ass that made my walls clench and milk his cock.

“Shit, yeah, that’s it,” he panted. He smacked my other cheek, earning another clench.

He slapped my ass a few more times before he grabbed onto my waist. He pulled me back as he thrust forward so he was getting nice and deep.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he chanted after a minute or so. “Where do you want it?”

“I don’t care,” I panted. I was on birth control. I trusted that he was clean. There were plenty of ways Eric could be a dickhead; putting my health at risk wasn’t one of them.

I reached down to play with my clit which made my walls clench around his shaft, milking his release from him.

“Oh God,” he breathed. Eric came hard, filling me with his hot release. His hips jerked as those big hands of his massaged my lower back.

“Mmm… yeah, that still doesn’t suck,” I said quietly. If only the sex was awful…

“Just as good as always,” he agreed. His hands rubbed around my ass before moving up to my spine. “You know I’ll be able to go again in twenty minutes…”

“You still want me here in twenty minutes?” I teased, looking over my shoulder at him.

“Fuck yeah I do,” he smiled. “Especially if you plan on leaving. I need to spend as much time with you and in you as possible.”

“This is a one time deal, buster.” Whether I was leaving or not, he needed to know this wasn’t going to become a regular thing.

“I’m not asking you to come back tomorrow. I just want as much of you as I can get tonight.”

Sounded like a win/win situation to me. It wouldn’t be the first time I went home wearing the clothes I left in the day before. Besides, he had a point. If I was leaving, I might as well enjoy the farewell party we were having. Maybe when I got to North Carolina I could finally move the hell on and find someone who was good for me. A girl could dream, anyway.

In the meantime, I started to rock back and forth since he was still inside me. Eric pulled me up so I was on my knees and leaning back against his chest. He turned my head so my lips met his in a heated kiss. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling from that kiss. Eric could lock away his feelings when he wanted to, and in that moment he obviously didn’t want me to know what was going through his mind. Of course it was possible he wasn’t feeling anything and it was just fun or a release for him. That would be just fine too.

With me out of the picture I figured he’d be able to move on too. He could finally find a new singer for the band and pick up where he left off musically. Regardless of what he said, I knew I was a distraction for him. I knew because he was a distraction for me and it was time to move on.

So when I said this was the last time, I meant it. It had to be, for both of our sakes.

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9 thoughts on “1: Just Another Thing

    • Speaking as an old timer (I’ve been writing in this fandom for almost a decade now, holy crap!), I totally get the burnout factor. After a while, the well of ideas dries up. Either that, or you find yourself bordering on plagiarizing someone else or doing your own take on the same old tired storylines. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I like to keep things fresh. That’s hard to do with the same characters after a while. That said, I’m glad that Missy and I continue to come up with ideas and that anyone is still interested in reading what we write. We just do it for the fun of it, so we hope you guys enjoy it, too.

      Liked by 4 people

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