I wondered if Cade knew I watched him. It wasn't anything I could control—the illegal-league rush I received from DL stanning him overpowered the safety of limp logic. For years he'd been a particular fascination of mine. At first I'd thought it was only admiration, an innocent crush that would fade over time, a feeling I could easily erase.
After a while, however, he started to seep into my thoughts at alarmingly regular intervals. I found myself regarding him with blue-balling intensity. I caught myself staring at his mouth, memorizing how his lips quirked when he struggled not to laugh at my wild antics. I stroked myself out of countless wet dreams, his name wrenched free from my throat as I came in a flurry of white-hot shame.
A few months ago, not satisfied with 2-D imagination and half-remembered dreams, I caved and got off to his picture, the one I took when he was tuning his bass during a caffeine-laced jam session in his dad's garage. Cade's hands, calloused and veiny, looked strong enough to kill me. Probably I'd watched too much BDSM porn, but when I imagined those hands around my neck, it almost got me hotter than when I was singing live on stage, fellating the mic and flirting with the thirsty crowd.
Though Cade was far from the only man I'd ever desired, he was the only one I'd craved for more than a stress-relieving hookup. I didn't want to be Cade's boyfriend; neither did I want anyone else to have him. Really, I didn't know what I wanted, other than to let him fuck me, hard and deep, again and again, until I somehow managed to absorb his mystery and gloat about the new notch on my belt. I prayed he wouldn't notice my fixation; otherwise, he might break every bone in my body if he knew how badly I wanted to do him dirty. However...
Facepalm: I accidentally revealed my obsession with Cade to my band brothers during Rim Shot's summer tour. Big yikes! The only thing worse than crushing on your band bro is crushing your band bro.
Everyone's heard the wink-wink, nudge-nudge jokes about how Rim Shot's band brothers swap spit offstage, but what happens when the rumors ring with the zing of truth?
Edan's as bisexual as David Bowie, but definitely not as cool.
Cade's allegedly straight, but maybe he's still figuring things out.
Ashley's the gayest shade of rainbow, and only has eyes for Edan.
Clive and Rem are straight, and not even a little homophobic.
On their sophomore tour, Rim Shot's fivesome coasts through the highs and lows of life on the road. Bad coffee. Wicked hangovers. Handsy groupies. What's worse: romance might be a-brewing between lead guitarist Ashley and front man Edan...but more likely it's hormones. (God forbid anyone falls in love!) To top it all off, Edan's nursing a wicked one-sided (?) crush on Cade, the seductive bassist. Throw in an exasperated band leader and a wise-cracking rhythm guitarist and watch a perfect storm build until it bursts.
Can Rim Shot survive their own drama and seize the spotlight, or will they join the ranks of one-hit wonders as their music fades into the background?
***
A note of caution: if you're looking for a flowery cuddle-fest, you'd be better off donning a terry cloth robe, petting a Persian pussycat, or burrowing into a body blanket. This story is raunchy, ridiculous, & only romantic in the loosest definition of the word. Please don't bother reading BARE POSSIBILITIES if you're easily offended, squeamish, or prudish. Save yourselves!
Cover art, story banner, and custom ad (for my free read CRIMSON) created on Canva.
Royalty-free image credit: ID 72781170 by Zegers06|Dreamstime.com
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