The drive back to the studio was quiet. Right as we hit the parking lot, Sander let out a frustrated sounding growl. I turned to see what was wrong and gasped when his lips painfully clashed with mine. Tongue and teeth, he gave it his all and didn’t stop until the limousine pulled in front of the building.
“Thank you for giving me the best Christmas ever,” he whispered, and with a pull of the handle, he was out the door. I blinked back the tears as I watched him walk away.
Five hours later, I was lying on my bed listening to songs and trying to choose the perfect one for the finale, when my phone pinged with a text from Sander.
Meet me in my trailer.
My heart raced in my chest. Was he in trouble? Did something happen? I thought about asking but then reconsidered. The last thing we needed was a text chain proving that something had happened between us.
Okay, I typed back. Then thought, Shit, my hair! I realized this made no sense. Sander had seen me naked and without makeup, but this was different. We were no longer lovers but were back to being coach and contestant. Back to existing under the same professionally stilted pretenses as before. Pulling my hair into a stylish looking ponytail, I dusted on a little makeup, glossed my lips, slid on my shoes, and headed for the door. Thankfully, I didn’t run into anyone on the way to Sander’s trailer. I had to admit, I was a little worried about Jayne. I swear, the woman had eyes in the back of her head.
“Come in!” I heard him call out when I knocked on the door. I’d barely made it inside, when I found myself shoved against the wall and a very impressive erection pressing against my stomach. His lips descended on mine as he flipped down the lock. It took a minute for my brain to catch up with my body.
“Sander—” I gasped. His lips were back on mine, and instead of questioning him like I wanted, I just went with it. In a flash, our clothes were off, and with my back pressed flat against the trailer wall and my legs wrapped around his waist, he entered me. Like every other time, it was perfect, as if he belonged inside me.
“I thought I could do this.” He panted between thrusts. “I tried to do the right thing, to walk away, but all I can think about is being with you.” His words were too much, and I shouted his name as the orgasm roared through me.
“Fuck!” he barked, his brown eyes devouring me. “Five hours,” he rasped. “Five hours where all I could do was think of you, of us, of the past five days and how nothing makes sense unless I’m balls deep inside you.” I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears. Is he saying what I think he is?
I waited for him to lower me to my feet, before responding. “But...I thought you said—”
“Forget what I said.”
“But...what about Jayne? If we get caught—”
“We won’t get caught. I’ll make sure of it. If Jayne asks, give her nothing. The same with anyone else. I’ll send the texts. You respond with a yes or a no.” Oh, God. Were we really going to do this? “Get dressed, Baby Girl. I’ll try to visit you later tonight, but probably won’t be able to get to you until sometime after practice tomorrow.” My mind spun as I bent down to retrieve my clothes. I was pulling on my pants when I felt Sander’s hand on the back of my neck. “You want this, right? Because if you don’t, now’s the time to tell me.” This was crazy. This was exciting. This was...insane, but damn if I was going to put a stop to it.
“I want this,” I quickly responded, my face flushing with embarrassment at how breathy and desperate I sounded. His lips split into a smile...and then he kissed me.
“World Spins Madly On”
Sander
Sander of old would never have made himself vulnerable to a woman. It seemed that Sander of new had no problem showing his softer side. New Sander had grown a giant pussy. He’d also, apparently lost his filter. In the AA meetings I’d attended, which had been a mandatory requirement after rehab, they’d talked about two things: making amends and changing the pattern. I hadn’t done so well on the amends front, but I was definitely changing my pattern. I wasn’t lying when I told Wynne that I’d tried to stay away. I had tried. I’d walked away from that limousine this afternoon with the best of intentions. Whether I wanted to or not, I was letting her go.
As expected, Jayne was waiting for me in my trailer. Talk about livid. By the way she was acting, you would have thought I’d screwed Wynne on national television. When she asked if we were involved in a relationship, I answered truthfully. At that moment in time, Wynne and I weren’t together.
The trick to diffusing Jayne, or anyone with power, for that matter, was all in the wording. I didn’t say Wynne and I had been together but were no longer. Nor did I offer up details, such as we fucked like rabbits all week and I now had this annoying bone-deep ache in my chest that I couldn’t shake. I simply said we weren’t together, because...we weren’t. Either way, my blunt answers and matter-of-fact attitude seemed to mollify her, and after a nice long chat—where she threatened my job if I stepped out of line again, and I acquiesced, she walked away with a satisfied smile on her face.
I did try to stay away from Wynne, but after spending the afternoon getting nothing done, besides wondering where she was and what she was doing, I said fuck it, and sent her a text.
The plan wasn’t to lure her to my trailer for sex. I simply wanted to see her, but when she walked through that door wearing those sexy ripped jeans and smelling like heaven, my brain shorted out and my cock took over. Evidently, so did my mouth, because all of a sudden, my filter was gone, and I was spewing...my feelings. Jesus, fuck. Talk about best laid plans. Try worst plan ever. Did I want her? Hell yes. I wanted her beyond reason. Was I being smart in not heeding Jayne’s warning? No, but for some reason, I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
The next three days consisted of all-day rehearsals, each of which I made sure to toggle between Wynne and Ferris, giving both o
f them equal amounts of my time. By Tuesday afternoon, Wynne had the judges pick, Joplin’s “Piece of my Heart”, nailed down. She wasn’t ready for me to hear her original just yet, but according to Fenton, it was a winner. As for the duet, we were singing Pink and Kenney Chesney’s “Setting the World on Fire.” Even though it wasn’t my first pick, Wynne seemed happy with it, and if Wynne was happy, I was happy.
As for Ferris, he was about as indecisive as a toddler in a candy store. The boy must have altered the lyrics to his song four different times before finally settling. March had suggested Bazzi’s “Mine” as the judges pick, and everyone signed off on it, including Ferris. I had to admit, it sounded damn good. As for our duet, Ferris wanted “Say Something” by Justin Timberlake and Chris Stapleton. We had the words down, but the connection wasn’t quite there. Go figure.
The days were all about the job, but the nights belonged to Wynne. My cock twitched just thinking about last night and the full body rubdown I’d given her before we sank into a warm bath, and I sank into her. Wynne and I had a connection unlike any I’d ever known. It was a connection bordering on obsession. At least, it was for me. With each passing day, it became more and more of a struggle not to touch her. Several times, I caught myself right as I was about to grab her hand or wrap my arms around her. I needed to be more careful.
Thursday was absolutely grueling. Wynne was on edge about the song she’d written. Several times, I offered to help, but she refused. Ferris was being a straight up prick. After forty-five minutes of listening to him bitch about everything from the music to the stage props, I told him to fucking take thirty and get a grip. I then told Saul I would be back in a few and stormed from the building. I couldn’t wait for this shit to be over.
I thought about checking in on Wynne, but as I’d checked on her three times already, I decided against it. Too much Sander might be a bad thing. We definitely couldn’t have that. So, I opted for an apple from the judges’ lounge and a walk to my trailer instead. Imagine my surprise when I found Ferris sitting on the steps.
“What’s up?” I asked as I unlocked the door and ushered him inside. I made my way over to my desk and started sifting through the stack of papers I’d been avoiding since before I left with Wynne.
“Why don’t you tell me?” His challenging tone caught my attention, but I refused to acknowledge it. Ferris was talented, but he was also a spoiled kid who didn’t like hearing the word no.