Hating Piper (Rockers' Legacy 8)

8

PIPER

As the limo pulled up in front of where the tour buses were parked, I felt an odd pang in my gut. It was bizarre, but I’d actually had a nice time with Cannon. We’d spent the night just talking and eating. Time and time again, I would find myself laughing or simply smiling for no reason other than I was content just to be where I was.

And even more mind-blowing was that nothing crazy had happened. For the first time in my life, a date hadn’t ended in disaster.

Once the driver had come to a complete stop, neither of us seemed in a rush to get out. I didn’t want the night to end. It was only because I was expecting something bad to still happen so I could win our wager—at least, that was what I told myself. The idea of him cleaning my bus for the entire tour was hilarious. I could make TikTok gold on those videos alone.

But the truth was, I wasn’t sure I was ready to say goodnight to him.

We’d agreed not to let the past ruin our night together, and we’d both held true to that promise. Maybe that was why we’d had such a good time together. I was able to forget about our shared childhood, set aside all the resentment and hatred I had for him, and just relax around him for once.

But as soon as I was behind the closed door of my tour bus, that truce would be over. We would go back to being the frenemies that our relationship had evolved into over the past few years.

Then there was the whole kissing him thing if he won the wager. Nothing dastardly or cringeworthily embarrassing had happened, which meant he had technically won. I wasn’t excited about that at all. Not one little bit. My heart didn’t pound frantically against my ribs. There definitely wasn’t an ache between my legs at imagining what his lips would feel like against mine, or what he might taste like.

We sat there for several minutes, neither of us speaking, but unable to look away from each other. The silence had been comfortable all the way back, a drastic difference from how we’d left earlier. My cheeks ached slightly from all the laughing and smiling I’d done for the past two hours.

The driver opening the door snapped us out of whatever trance we were under. Muttering something under his breath, Cannon stepped out and then reached in to offer me his hand. My hand felt small in his as his fingers wrapped around mine and tugged me away from the vehicle.

The roadies’ two buses and the one for our security team, which was also where Flint stayed, were bigger than the others because they housed so many of the crew. Then there was Jagger’s bus, which was just for him, Shaw, and baby Grier. Cannon shared with his band—Smith, Pierson, and Cody—as well as Robbie and Charlie from my own band. Now that Robbie was gone, they would have a little more space, which was no doubt a bonus to everyone else on their bus.

As we walked toward my bus, passing the others, he didn’t release me. The closer we got to my final destination, the more that odd pang in my gut grew more prominent. It had to be dinner not settling right, because there was no way in hell I was upset at having to end our time together. Still, we didn’t speak, but there was tension between us, unlike the comfortable silence in the limo only moments before.

My own bus, which housed Hymn, her guide dog Nala, Trinity, along with me, was parked in the middle of the others. When we stopped in front of the door, all the lights were off inside except a soft-glowing one in the living room/kitchenette area that Trinity must have left on for me.

I put my thumb to the door lock and heard it click once it scanned my fingerprint. Other than Trinity, who could come and go from any of the buses, if someone tried to break in, an alarm would be triggered and would alert every member of our security team. Once triggered, both David and Trinity would have to scan their own prints to deactivate it. If they didn’t respond within thirty minutes, then the cops would automatically be contacted.

Barrick and Braxton had equipped each one of Emmie’s tour buses with every possible state-of-the-art security measure. It made everyone a little less uneasy about touring since some diabolical shit had happened back before my parents had even gotten married. No one ever talked about that time, but a quick Google search had easily given me the keynotes of the incident. After reading all that—if even half of it was true—I understood everyone’s need to keep us as safe as possible.

I opened the door but didn’t go inside. Cannon still had a hold of my hand, so I stood there looking up at him in the glow of the lights of the parking lot.

He turned my hand over in his and traced his thumb over my palm. “We should take an hour or so tomorrow to rehearse the lineup for the next show.”

“Good idea.” Damn, was that really my voice? It had come out all husky and intimate. Clearing my throat, I nodded to the open door. “I should get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” he said, releasing a pent-up breath. “I sent you all those pictures I took, so you can follow through for Mirriam. I’ve already posted several to Feed the Music sites and my own.”

“Oh yeah, okay.” I’d forgotten all about having to post about our date, but he’d taken countless photos during our picnic dinner under the stars.

He handed over my phone, and it was only then that I realized I’d been without it for so long. Glancing at the screen, I noticed I had a few missed texts and calls, but I wasn’t even worried about them. Whoever they were from could wait until after I’d gotten a few hours of sleep. If any of it was even remotely important, those closest to me knew to talk to Flint.

“Pipes.” I lifted my gaze from my phone to find Cannon had moved closer. His breath bathed my cheek and part of my mouth as his blue eyes stared into mine. “I won our wager.”

“I know,” I breathed.

His nose skimmed over mine, his mouth so close I could almost feel the dampness of his bottom lip. “You’re not going to argue about it? Try to get out of paying up?”

“No,” I said in a voice choked with all the pressure that was building deep inside me. “I don’t back down, even when I’m the loser. You won, and I’ll pay up.”

“Tell me to kiss you, sugar,” he rasped, finally releasing my hand completely so he could touch his fingers to my hip.

That was the only contact we had, his fingers burning even through my jeans, but he was so close a strong wind could have blown me up against him so that I was pasted along his entire body. Being so close, yet not quite touching anywhere but that one spot, was frustrating, yet so hot I nearly whimpered, wanting him to erase the last little distance between us so I could feel him molded to me from head to toe.

I was so turned on that it took me a moment to realize what he’d said. “Wh-what?”

“Tell me to kiss you,” he repeated. “Command me, Pipes. Demand it from me.”

I licked my suddenly dry lips. “It’s rightfully yours, though. All you have to do is take it from me.”

“No,” he growled, the vibrations making my entire body tremble in anticipation. “I won’t ever take something you’re not willing to give one hundred percent.” His fingertips bit into my hip, scraping over the denim. “You’re in charge, Piper. You get to call the shots. I might have won our wager, but you still have complete power over everything. Especially me.”

The ache between my legs only grew until I could actually feel my pulse in my clit. Fuck, did he have some kind of mind-reading device? Because that was something I had secretly craved for so long.

To command—conquer—him.

But would he actually do it? Was Cannon really the type of guy who would fall at my feet and do my bidding?

There was only one way to find out.

“Prove it. No touching,” I gritted out through my teeth, half afraid he wouldn’t heed the command.

Groaning, he dropped his hand from my hip but didn’t step back. His breathing became a little more labored, and that only made me wetter. My panties were glued to me, so uncomfortable that I felt chafed.

“You won, but you have to wait for your prize,” I breathed, stroking the backs of my fingers over his cheek. Eyes closed, he leaned into my touch, but I dropped my hand, denying him the contact.

“H-how long?” he asked with a moan, snapping his eyes open.

“Until you can’t take it any longer,” I instructed. “Until you beg me.”

“I can’t take it any longer, Pipes,” he rasped, his voice full of agony. “I’ve been dying to know what you taste like for so damn long. Just a little kiss, please.”

“No,” I denied him. “You’re not desperate enough yet.”

A pained sound left him, making my entire body strain toward his. Stepping back, he clutched at the back of his neck with both hands as he glared up at the night sky, his breathing ragged. “You’re killing me.”

“No.” I stepped into his space and leaned up on my tiptoes to graze my lips over his cheek. “Just making you earn it.”

He started to catch me by the hips, but I slapped his hands away. “No touching,” I commanded once again. “Not until I say.”

“Fuck. Please, I want to touch you. Just once before I go to my bus.”

“No. But I’ll touch you,” I compromised, stroking one hand down his chest. Even through his shirt, I could feel the definition of his muscles and had to press my thighs together hard in hopes of releasing some of the pressure building there.

His heart pounded against my palm as he inhaled a shuddery breath. My fingers trailed lower. I could see his cock straining along the inside of his jeans leg. When I reached the top button, his dick jumped, as if trying to tear its way through the denim to get to me.

“Pipes,” he choked out when I tucked two fingers into the top of his jeans.

“Say please,” I demanded, looking up at him through my lashes.

“Please.” Blue eyes blazing with need beckoned. “Please, sugar. I ache so bad to taste you.”

“Okay,” I whispered. “You can kiss me now.”

I barely got the words out before his lips slammed down on mine, his tongue driving into my mouth and tasting me. With a whimper, I clung to him, just as hungry for him as he was for me.

Cannon’s hands grasped my ass and lifted. I instantly wrapped my legs around his waist as he backed me against the bus beside the door. All I could hear were the sounds of our heavy breathing mingled together. I thrust my fingers into his hair and pulled on his short locks.

No one had ever kissed me with such violent hunger in my life, and I loved it. The way he couldn’t seem to help himself, the groans that were practically torn from him while he devoured me like I was a refreshing drink of water from an oasis after he’d spent days wandering through a barren desert.

“Fuck,” he groaned, trailing kisses down my neck before sinking his teeth into my shoulder. “You taste even sweeter than you smell. Let me taste all your secrets.”

I wanted to tell him yes, give him permission to run his wicked tongue over every part of my body that was weeping for his kiss. But even through the fire burning out of control within me, I knew I couldn’t let things go that far. A kiss was one thing, but what he wanted was too much.

This was Cannon Cage. The boy who’d made my childhood a living nightmare. He didn’t deserve to taste my secrets, no matter how badly I wanted it.

It took effort, but I dug deep and found the anger that always came when I remembered all the terrible things he’d done to me. Holding on to it, I pushed against his chest until he reluctantly helped me slide down his body.

As soon as my feet touched the ground, I pushed him away and rushed inside the bus, making sure to manually lock the door behind me as I leaned back against it.

“Pipes,” he called out, the pain in his voice making me quiver.

“Go away,” I whisper-shouted through the door. “My brain isn’t working right now, and I really need to think.”

There was a short pause outside before I heard his heavy sigh. “Fine. But remember what I said. You have all of the control.”

If that was really true, then I was in big trouble.