My stomach muscles clenched as Jayce's fingers moved down, feeling his way around the cock he had stuffed inside me, finding my clit. I dropped my head and cried out, tears streaming down my face in desperation. His fingers worked between my legs, teasing me, testing me, taking me to the edge but not letting me fall over.

"Please," I whimpered. "Let me come on your cock."

"What was that, baby? I couldn't hear you."

"Please!" I begged. "I need to come again. Let me come on your cock."

He sped up the pace, slamming himself into me with brutal thrusts and playing my clit with a fury.

I wailed as it ripped through me like a tidal wave. I screamed my pleasure as my body burst with a heart-stopping climax. I was lost in the ecstasy of my orgasm.

He fucked me through it, not letting up. He built up a steady rhythm, the force of his fucking lifting me off the bed. My entire body felt the impact of those thrusts. He shuddered and groaned, and I knew he was close.

He stiffened behind me and I felt the flood of him rush into me, coating my insides. My arms gave out and I fell onto the bed face-first. I turned my cheek to the side to keep from suffocating myself.

Jayce withdrew his cock slowly and collapsed beside me, leaving me quivering and panting. Neil sprawled out on the bed on my other side. They each wrapped an arm around me, Jayce's around my shoulders and Neil's around my hips. My hair clung to the back of my neck, sweaty from the exertion.

The taste of Neil still coated my tongue, and I was acutely aware of my sticky thighs from when Jayce came inside me.

The three of us lay there panting heavily for several long, quiet minutes. Neil laced his fingers with mine and pressed the back of my hand to his lips. Jayce took my other hand and held it to his chest, over his heart.

"Thank you," Neil said, breaking the silence, voice still breathless.

"Don't say that as if it's goodbye forever." I squeezed his hand. "We're still AudioAiley and PointShootNeil. We were friends before this and we'll be friends after. Okay?"

Neil pressed another kiss to my hand. "Always."

Chapter Twenty-Five.

After the situation with the crazy stalker, there had been some discussion among the music executives about whether to cancel the tour or not. If anything was going to put a stop to it, a crazy fan attacking one of the band members was going to be it. They'd flown down one of their representatives to talk to the band. I'd been pulled into the meeting because I was at the center of it all. We piled onto the tour bus for some privacy while we discussed our options.

The entire band had protested when canceling the tour was brought up. They'd worked so hard and didn't want to disappoint their legions of fans. Jayce, in particular, was adamant that he was fine to go back on stage. The police had kept the whole thing quiet, and news of the incident hadn't yet been made public. No one outside the employees at Dark Sound Studios, Neil and myself included, knew what had happened. In the end, Kell made the final veto, and Deena gave in.

There were still a lot of questions about how the fan had managed to pull off her attack.

"She had a fake staff badge," one of the police officers had explained. No doubt she'd been following the band across the country and attending every concert. There would have been plenty of opportunities to run into a staff member and get a look at the badge. They weren't very complicated. Anyone with a good knowledge of photo editing software would have been able to mock one up.

"We'll make sure we come up with something better next time. We'll make it less easy to copy," Deena had assured us.

"But how did they know to follow Ailey?" Ren had asked. "She was jealous of whoever ran our social media accounts, but how did they know it was her?"

"That's my fault. I went and outed myself online." I glanced briefly at Jayce. I wanted him to know I didn't regret it, that he shouldn't put any of the blame on himself. "Everyone who follows me knows what I look like now. Any fan of the band would know they have someone acting as their social media coordinator. If the fan saw me at the concert with a staff badge, it wouldn't be hard to put two and two together. A lot of my followers figured out I'd been doing something cool this summer, even if I couldn't talk about the details."

As soon as the music exec left, Kell, Morris, and Ren fell upon me.

"Are you really okay?"

"You sure you want to continue with the tour?"

"Are you scarred for life?"

I huffed out a laugh. "No, Kell, I'm not scarred for life. It was scary," I admitted, "but I'll be fine. I have you guys to look out for me, right?"

They all nodded adamantly, Kell the most adamant of the three. Jayce gave me a warm smile and my insides gushed.

When Neil, Jayce, and I woke up the next morning, things had surprisingly not been awkward between us at all. Instead, everything felt right. I shared sappy smiles with each of them as we'd worked out who got the shower first. I worried about leaving Neil and Jayce alone while I cleaned up, but it was for nothing. The two of them were discussing the filming schedule, no stiffness between them at all. They'd both turned to look at me as I exited the shower wrapped only in a towel. They had both taken in the sight and exchanged a glance, smirking at each other. I had known exactly what they were thinking.

After the guys took off for rehearsal, Deena pulled out a stack of papers.

"Your job contract."

I took the papers from her hands and went over the details. Even though I was going to drop down to part-time studies, I was still worried about juggling school and a full-time job. The contract eased some of my worries. I'd be working thirty-five hours a week, dates and times to be flexible based on my availability and the band's schedule. If there was a conflict, I would speak with Deena directly and we would decide what to do on a case-by-case basis. I didn't mind missing a class or two to take care of band business, but there was no way I would miss a final exam. Deena assured me she took my education just as seriously as I did and would make sure I never had to do something to compromise that.

The salary almost made me choke. This was certainly no minimum wage student job. It was daunting to know they were giving me so much responsibility. I pushed back those thoughts and sat up straight. Deena thought I was awesome. I was awesome. I was good at my job, and this salary confirmed it. I had no reason to be intimidated.

"Everything look good?"

I was about to say it all looked great, but I paused. Everyone always said when it came to salary to never take the first offer. The amount was so far above what I'd expected, though. I didn't know what to ask for. I pretended to frown and examine the contract more closely.

"This is no nine to five job, like you said. If I'm going to be working nights, weekends, and holidays, I think the salary should reflect that."

My heart was pounding as I spoke, and my palms went clammy. Would she be upset I was trying to play hardball? Would she rescind the offer?

Instead, she nodded and took the contract back. "Sounds fair. I'll go back to the CEO and see if we can give you a bump in salary, or perhaps work out some overtime pay."

My heart leaped. It had worked. My very first job negotiation. I felt more pleased with myself than I should have. I held back my grin and settled for a smile and a nod. "Thanks, Deena, much appreciated."

"Everything else in the contract look good?"

"It all looks great. I can't wait to start working with you."

"We're all excited to have you officially on board."

A brand new job in the music industry, the beginnings of a relationship with a sexy rock star god, and a loving friendship with a wonderful man.

Being an internet-addicted fangirl really had paid off.

Epilogue.

My new office was pretty swank.

It was small, yes, but I had my own desk and a comfy, high-backed leather computer chair. I put a tall, leafy potted plant in one corner. The wall-to-wall glass windows gave me a great view of the city. A small round table had been placed in the middle of the room with three chairs surrounding it for when I had meetings.

I actually had meetings. I felt so grown-up, it was hard to imagine this was my life now.

My phone pinged, reminding me of one of those meetings now.

Dark Sound Studios was serious about getting social. As their new Community Manager, they wanted me to have all the tools I needed to make sure our fans stayed hyped up on the brand. I was involved in almost all the decision making, although at first, I quietly sat in on meetings and learned. When I finally got comfortable enough to voice my opinions, they always took me seriously. I sometimes couldn't believe that these important people, these music industry executives, actually cared about my opinion.

Neil called it imposter syndrome, feeling like you're not good enough despite all evidence to the contrary.

"It's the mark of all high achievers," he told me. Even he suffered from it, which I found hard to believe. Neil never once looked like he doubted himself when it came to his career.

"It's all about fake it till you make it" was his answer when I asked. I'd chuckled and replied that I hadn't ever faked it around him. He'd gotten my meaning and given me a wicked grin. Going back to being friends had been much easier than I'd hoped.

The meeting was being held in the boardroom. It had been a last minute thing, and no agenda had been circulated. Every time we had an impromptu gathering, I always dreaded it was going to be a "sorry it didn't work out, best of luck" conversation before Dark Sound kicked me to the curb.

Imposter syndrome, I reminded myself. I straightened my back and pushed open the boardroom door to find Jayce, Morris, and Ren already there, lounging easily in the boardroom chairs.

"Hey, guys!" I hadn't expected to see them. They were always so busy doing promo work. The tour had been a huge success, and they'd sold tons of their sophomore album. I wasn't sure how many copies exactly, but I knew it was enough for Dark Sound to start putting some real money toward promoting the band.

Morris and Ren greeted me warmly. I gave Jayce a secret smile, and he returned it.

Although it was true to say I rarely saw the band, plural, I had been seeing a lot of Jayce. It seemed like we spent every free moment together, which, granted, wasn't much. I was busy with my job and school while Jayce was busy with band stuff.

I almost let my mind wander back to the previous week, when the both of us had a night off. The memory of his hands and lips all over my body made me flush.

I ignored the tingle rising between my legs and sat down on a chair next to Jayce. He gave me a heated look that told me he knew exactly what I was thinking about and that he was thinking along similar lines.

Maybe if he didn't have anything planned after the meeting, the two of us could sneak off and- My thoughts were interrupted when Kell walked in with Deena. She was as professional and put together as always. I expected Kell to bounce in, chattering excitably, but he was subdued. I'd gotten to see another side of Kell while touring with the band, and I knew he often put on the guise of the high energy, egotistical front man. Kell was smarter and much more perceptive than he let on.

"So, what's up?" Ren asked. "Why'd you need to bring us all in here?"

"We've all been promoting separately the last few weeks, and I needed to gather everyone together at once."

"You got some news?" Morris asked.

"Yes." Kell's eyes were unreadable.

The rest of us waited, some patiently, others less so, wondering what was so important that he needed to tell us all together. Eventually, he spoke.

"I'm going solo."

The shock was almost audible in the dead silent room. He spoke again as if to make sure we all fully understood.

"I'm quitting Feral Silence."

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Hard Rock Voice Excerpt 1.

The lone man sat in a small recording booth, perched on a backless stool. He used the toe of his shoe to push off against the floor, twisting his body in a restless, repetitive motion. An oversized pair of headphones covered his ears and curly blond bangs fell over his forehead. A large circular microphone stood a foot away from his mouth. His t-shirt had a one-eyed, sharp toothed, cartoon monster printed on the front. A speech bubble came out of the monster's mouth. It said "I live under your bed."

The man wasn't singing yet, simply examining a piece of paper in his hand. His eyes scanned over the words, reading over the lyrics one more time.

He knew the lyrics off by heart. He'd agonized over them for weeks. Some lyrics he dashed off in a flurry on scraps of paper-sometimes those were his greatest works. Other lyrics took longer. They needed to be coaxed and massaged, one word at a time.

This was one of those songs. It was going to be the last song on his album. It was important to him. Special. It told a sort of story, in a roundabout way, something he hadn't shared with anyone else. Only a few people in the world knew.

Kell often wrote secrets into his lyrics, hidden messages for fans that cared enough to decipher them. It was like a game to him.

When he thought about his fans listening to this song and reading the lyrics, a thrill ran thorough his body. Although they would study and scrutinize and obsess over the meaning of the song, not one of them would know the secret inside the words.

And if anyone did figure it out, well...

"You ready to go again, Kell?" the sound technician asked from behind the other side of the glass. His hands were already on the sound system in front of him, fingers poised over the sliding buttons. He'd been there for hours already, but not a hint of impatience colored his tone. He knew this song was special, too, although he didn't know why. The artist wanted it to be perfect, so they would work on it until it was.

"Yeah, I got this."

Kell put down the paper and cleared his throat, stepping up to the microphone. He breathed in and out a few times, expanding and contracting his lungs, preparing them. He nodded once to the sound tech.

Music started up, a single guitar chord lightly strumming a melody. The intro was a quiet, subdued affair. No blaring noise, nothing ostentatious.

After a few bars, Kell sang the first lines in a quiet, breathy voice. It was smooth and liquid, the words rolling off his tongue. As he sang, the music slowly rose in pitch, the strumming guitar increasing in speed and intensity. Kell's voice got louder, rougher. He sang the words from deep inside his chest, a bevy of expressions crossing his face. Delight, rage, despair. His voice radiated every emotion, holding nothing back.

The music reached a crescendo, changing key, the instrumentals crashing down in a violent combination of guitar, keyboard and violin. Kell held a single note for a long moment. It was a sensual purr, enticing the audience to close their eyes and lean in, to feel the sound wash over them like a cresting wave. The single note held an unspoken promise, reverberating in the chests of every listener.

The music halted and Kell cut himself off abruptly, then came the soft, slow strumming of the guitar, matching the melody of the first few bars. Kell whispered one final line, a carnal hiss, before falling silent.

There was a brief moment of quiet before clapping rang through the sound booth.

"Awesome, Kell. I think that's the one."

"Yeah?" Kell grinned and wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead with the hem of his shirt, lifting it to reveal a slim, toned stomach. "Good, 'cause it's hot as fuck in here. Can't we afford air conditioning?"

The sound guy chuckled. "Take a break, then we'll start on the next one."

Kell nodded and snatched a bottle of water from a side table. He tilted his head back and chugged it in one long gulp, the muscles in his throat rippling with the motion. He finished the last few drops and crushed the bottle into a thin disk, tossing it toward the small recycling bin tucked away in the corner. The plastic hit the wall and bounced into the bin.