Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Gunner

“Well, well, looks like TMZ is here to sing us another pretty song,” one of the regulars says from the end of the bar.

“Shut the fuck up, Norm.” I place the last glass on the drying rack, toss my rag under the counter, and walk the length of the bar with my eyes trained on Cash.

After our time in the woods, Cash was spent. I wanted to take care of her, but she insisted she needed some time to herself. A part of me was worried she’d freak out and walk out of my life as quickly as she walked into it.

“What’s your pleasure?”

Silence hangs a few beats between us as she assesses me, a tiny grin turning her lips before she leans in. “Not here for the beer, but if you’re offering...”

Her eyes are a wild shade of blue, her gaze so intense it’s like a sucker punch to my gut every time I look at her.

I crack a bottle, setting it on the counter. “I’m always offering.”

If she wants, I’ll offer her much more than the beer. Hell, I’ll gladly send all these sorry sacks home just to eat that fuckin’ cunt again on this very bar.

She doesn’t drink, just plays with the cool bottle as her eyes move around the room. “I hoped there wouldn’t be many people here.” She finally takes a small sip of her beer, her mind still working. “I’ve been playin’ around with a new song. It’s slower, though. I haven’t done anything this slow before. If you don’t mind, I might try it out.”

My ego is a little bruised that she came here for my stage and not me. But I also want to hear what she wrote about me. It has to be about me. She curled up with a guitar at home and wrote a song after I banged her brains out. “Hell, yeah. My place is yours. I’ll flip the corner lights on, hit the mic, and you’re good to go.”

“No lights. I like it dim. This is perfect.” Her eyes are on me, a small smile lifting her lips.

“Whatever you say, Sparrow.”

“You gonna give us more of that Loretta Shaw special?” Norm calls from across the bar, a drunken slur to his words.

“Shut the fuck up, Norm. Don’t make me throw you out on your ass again.”

“No Loretta tonight, Norm,” Cash replies, tipping the neck of her beer bottle toward him. “Tonight, you’re only getting me.”

He nods, a grin curving his lips. “If you say so, sweetheart.”

Anger bubbles in my chest at his endearment. He’s not the first to call her that and won’t be the last, but it makes my fucking blood boil. An unfamiliar possessiveness blooms in my chest. I fist my hands at my sides, trying to control the animalistic need to knock his teeth out of his head for daring to label what’s mine. I shoot him a warning glare, letting him damn well know how I feel about his attitude.

Every rational thought leaves my mind when another man dares to show her attention. “Cash,” I call out.

She turns, and all I can focus on is her pretty face and the throbbing of my dick. I take in her full, pouty lips, picturing smearing her bright red lipstick and making her mascara run down her soft cheeks. It doesn’t matter. I’ve got a business to run and no one to watch the place as I fuck the pretty little songstress’s throat until it’s bruised and battered. “Before you start, can I see you in the back?”

She nods. “Sure.”

She walks past Norm, and I growl as his eyes move down her back to her big, round ass. “Watch it, old man. I won’t tell you a second time.”

I wait until Cash is in front of me, shielding her tempting ass with my body until we reach my office door. My fingers tremble with the high of having her near me as I turn the knob, letting her in before I follow.

Cash walks into the middle of the room and glances at every corner. I stand with my back to the door, needing the support for my knees, seeing my goddess in my space.

The room isn’t fancy. It probably looks like a closet to her. Little Miss Hot Shot’s bathroom is bigger. The place is basic, with its wood paneling and sparse furniture. A desk holds a computer, and there’s a loveseat in the corner.

Cash’s eyes brighten as she spots the shelf of old vinyl records. Her fingers shake as she pulls out one of my many LPs. “Do you have any idea what this is?” Her fingers brush against the sleeve as if she’s discovered the meaning of life.

I step close, and Cash shivers as my lips brush her ear. “First edition pressing of The White Album by The Beatles.” I wrap my arms around her, lifting the record from her hand and carrying it to the player. I gently remove it from the sleeve, place it on the turntable, and bring the needle up. The sweet melody of John Lennon singing Don’t Let Me Down oozes through the overhead speakers in my office.

Cash’s eyes meet mine. “You have all these masterpieces in an unlocked room that anyone could walk into? What if the place got robbed? There must be millions of dollars worth of records on those shelves.”

I nod, fully aware of the first editions sitting there. “First, we’re in a small town in Tennessee, not New York City. Second, the common person wouldn’t know what any of this is worth. To them, it’s a bunch of old junk.”

“Still, it’s sad that these jewels are withering away here.”

“Better for them to be enjoyed than sitting in some glass case. Music is meant to be shared, not locked up as a trophy.”

Cash places her hand in mine, and I pull her toward me, swaying to the music. Fuck, I love having her body against mine. It’s as if she’s meant for me. She sighs and places her head on the left side of my chest, right over my heart. I’m sure she can hear its frantic rhythm. We sway to the harmonies The Beatles blended so perfectly, and I let the lyrics wash over me.

Until she breaks my reverie.

“So what’s up, Gunner?”

Her question catches me off guard. I thought we were having a sweet, romantic moment, and bam, she kills the mood by dousing me in ice water.

What’s up?She’s asking me what’s up? She tells me she needs space, doesn’t call me for two days, and then shows up here wanting to sing. Maybe all I am to her is a good fuck. Perhaps I’m the chump for thinking that the two of us have a connection that few people experience.

Reluctantly, I push her away from me. I step forward, forcing her to step back. “That’s what I want to know, Sparrow. What the hell is up? I thought we had a pretty good time in the forest. If I recall, you told me I blew your mind with my tongue acrobatics. So I want to know where you’ve been for the last two days.”

“I told you. I needed some space.”

Another step in her direction until her knees hit the back of the loveseat. My body crowds her, but she doesn’t hate it from the way her breathing accelerates and her pupils dilate. “I’m done giving you space. I sure as hell won’t stand by while another man calls you sweetheart.”

My cock lashes out in my pants like a damn snake wanting to be freed from its prison.

Cash bobs her head and swallows. “I can’t control what another man calls me.”

I lift my hand and capture a soft lock of her hair. “I know you can’t, Sparrow. But I can.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

I yank her hair back and pull until her legs give way, and she falls to her knees. “I’ve got a couple of ideas. Remember your safe word.”

She smirks. “Your idea involves me on my knees?”

Fuck. I love how pliable she is. How she’s ready anywhere, anytime. “Shut the fuck up and take out my cock.” My legs go weak as she pulls down the zipper of my jeans and unleashes my rock-hard dick. “Suck.”

Cash places her hands on the base of my dick, and the tip of her finger slides along the ball of my piercings.

“If you’re a good girl, I might get more jewelry for you. But be a bad girl, and it’ll be you getting the hardware.”

She opens her mouth, sliding the tip of my cock into her warm, wet mouth.

“Good girl. Take my cock all the way down your throat.”

I allow her to get adjusted to me, enjoying watching her at work. Fuckin’ beautiful.

Her hands move off my dick and she grabs my ass, pulling me further into her mouth. She pulls back suddenly. “Can I—”

“Can you what, sparrow?”

“Can we pretend I don’t want to? I, um, I want you to force me.”

My cock jerks at her request, eager to fulfill her fantasy. “Little slut, you want it rough, don’t you?”

She bobs her head and looks up at me, her eyes begging me to take what I want.

“Tap the back of my knee three times if it’s too much.”

“Okay,” she whispers.

With that one word, I’m on her. Cash winces as I grip the hair at her nape and yank her head back. “Open your mouth.”

“No,” she cries as she scrambles back until her ass hits the leather of the loveseat.

In this position, her head is directly by my crotch. I grab her jaw and press down until she opens her mouth slightly. “Be a good girl and do as you’re told, or I’ll make it hurt.”

She grips my thigh and digs her nails in viciously, forcing me to let go of her and step back. Cash scrambles off the sofa and heads for the door. I lunge after her, grabbing her hair and pulling her back. A pang of regret blooms in my chest because there’s no way that didn’t hurt like a bitch. But Cash said she wants me to be rough, so who am I to deny her?

“I’m not done with you, little girl. You’re not leaving this room until you’ve taken a hot load of cum into your pathetic mouth.”

Cash whimpers, grabbing her hair as I toss her on the loveseat. “Please don’t do this,” she begs. “I don’t want this.” Her chest heaves in a frantic rhythm.

I stalk toward her. “Pull up your skirt.”

Cash does the opposite, pulling her skirt down and pressing her knees tightly together.

I smirk before putting my hands on her knees and wrenching her legs apart. Cash whimpers at the loss of control, her eyes searching my face and her long black lashes blinking at me. With her legs wide open, I witness the wetness of her white panties. I drop to my knees, making direct eye contact with her pussy. “I thought you said you don’t want this, slut.”

“I-I-don’t,” she pants.

I fumble with the elastic of her panties, tearing them from her flesh. “Good girls wear white cotton panties. You’re just a worthless fuck hole. You won’t be needing these.”

Fuck, she looks so sweet, so perfect. I caress the side of her face. “It’s such a shame I’m going to make a mess of your pretty makeup.”

She opens her mouth to protest, and I glide my thumb on her bottom lip, smearing her lipstick over her cheek. “Now, are you going to open your mouth and take my cock in the back of your throat like a good girl, or am I going to gag you so hard you’ll throw up?”

Cash doesn’t move. She sits silently, her lips held firm in a straight line.

“Have it your way.”

I pinch her nostrils, cutting off her air. I have to give her credit; she doesn’t open her mouth right away. She waits so long that I start to panic and wonder if I should stop, but then I remember she has her safe word.

Her face goes red and her fists flail as her hands fly.

But this time, I’m ready for the fight. “Go on, Sparrow. Get it all out. But you know as well as I do that you’ll open wide.”

Cash finally gasps for breath, and I take advantage, pushing my dick between her lips and thrusting violently down her throat.

“Fuck, Sparrow. I don’t know what’s sweeter, your whore mouth or slutty pussy.” I watch as she hollows her cheeks and sucks me deep. “Touch my cunt. Drench your hand for me.”

I slap her face when she doesn’t move as quickly as I’d like. “Touch your pussy now, or I’ll be forced to whip your clit. When I give you an order, you do it, slut. Remember, you’re nothing more than my little fuck toy. My cum receptacle. The only thing you’re good for is to receive my cum in your dirty holes and clean up the mess a pathetic whore like you makes. If I want you to lick the cum off my dirty boot, you’ll do it and say thank you.”

Cash groans on my cock and swirls her tongue around my shaft. Seeing her hand moving between her legs and her fingers disappearing into her wet cunt drives me to the edge of madness. I grip her hair and push my cock further into her mouth. Cash gags and her discomfort mixed with her excess saliva are heaven. “This is all you’re good for, Sparrow. A pathetic toy with holes that need stuffing.”

She hums on my cock as her hand picks up speed.

“Look at you, slut. Look at you. So perfect.” I wipe her mascara as tears stream down her face, placing the same finger on my lips. She’s so beautiful. “Even your tears taste good.”

Cash spits and coughs as I pull out and slam back down her throat, fucking her mouth like it’s her pussy. I show no mercy and grip her throat, holding her tight and closing her airway. Her mouth constricts around my dick, and my eyes almost roll to the back of my head. The way she moves her mouth and tongue on my cock is enough to bring me to my knees.

Banging on my office door. “Gunner, I need some Johnny Walker.”

I’m so far gone that I don’t even recognize the voice. My hips thrust harder into her mouth, stretching her lips like I stretched her cunt in the woods. The only thing I can focus on is coming. I sure as fuck am not leaving this room until I’ve cum deep in Cash’s pretty little throat.

She moans the deeper I fuck her throat, so I don’t hold back. I fuck her face harder, getting lost in her constant gagging. I wonder if she’ll barf. The thought both disgusts and turns me the fuck on.

I can’t take it anymore; I’m about to blow. I pull out and grab her hair, holding her still as ropes of cum splatter her lips, cheeks, and neck.

“Stay there,” I pant, grabbing my cell from my jeans. I snap three pictures of her. “Gotta keep something for the spank bank if you decide to ghost me again.”

She leans back on the sofa with a satiated smile. “Show those pictures to anyone, and I’ll cut your dick off while you sleep.”

Walking over to her, I lick my cum from her face and kiss her lips. “Sparrow, I’ll gouge out the eyes of any man who comes into contact with you. Trust me, the only person who gets to see my little slut is me.” I offer her my hand and help her up.

“You got any tissue? I need to clean up before I go back out there.”

“Your face is clean.”

She points to her neck. “What about this?”

“That’s me marking my territory.”

We leave the office, and I head to the bar while Cash saunters to the stage. She adjusts her skirt, and I slip my hand into my jeans pocket, rubbing her damp, ripped panties while possessively staring at the glistening shine on her neck. No one in the bar will know what it is. Most will assume it’s moisturizer or makeup, but I know. She’s wearing my cum.

Only half a dozen regulars dot the bar after midnight on a weeknight, but something tells me that’s exactly what Cash needs to work out her new music. Hell, if giving her access to my open mic keeps her coming to my bar, I am all in.

Thoughts of Cash were in a constant loop in my head after I dropped her off yesterday morning. I alternated through moments of wanting to fuck her senseless and worshiping at her feet. I shot her a few texts and waited by my phone like a lovesick teen. But the only response I got was her silence. So I was fucking glad when I saw her walking into the bar.

Cash snags the acoustic guitar I left propped in the corner for impromptu jam sessions and settles herself on the lone stool in the center of the tiny stage. I flip on the surround sound speakers, and my cock jerks in my pants as I hear her soft breaths at the mic. The same soft breaths that she released as she choked on my dick.

Fuck, she’s so pretty and soft and peaceful up there. It’s like seeing her for the first time in her true form. Sure, I’ve seen her kink, but this… this is different. This is like getting a glimpse into her soul. The damn record label was so busy covering her in thick makeup and fake hair that they concealed her natural shine and beauty. They deprived the world of the real treasure.

My heart fucking aches, realizing she’s been chewed up and spat out in the same way my mama was decades before.

The Elvis effect, Mama called it. The ruthless side of the music industry. Making music for money, not passion.

But here’s Cash, standing up for her heart and music by turning the tables and fully living her life.

“Evenin’, everyone.” The soft, midwestern lilt of her voice puts a grin on my face. “I’m still working out the last part of this new song. I’m hoping singing it out loud will help me…” She trails off, eyes searching the nearly empty room until they finally land on mine.

I nod when our eyes lock, my grin growing to chase away the insecurity I see shimmering in her eyes.

“Knock ’em dead.”I mouth the words, remembering when my dad said the same to my mama before she went on stage at the Grand Ole Opry when I was ten.

Cash’s eyes widen before a calm smile turns up her lips, and she strums the first few notes of a slow tune. The music arrangement is soft and more romantic than I expected. And then my sparrow opens her mouth. The first few lyrics of her opening lines almost take my knees out from under me.

Your eyes met mine at sunrise.

Copper light reflecting through the pain.

You saw through the heart of me.

And for that, I’ll never be the same.

I can hardly focus on the rest of the words. The raw emotion and quiet pain weaving through the notes grab my heart in a fucking vise grip. I haven’t figured out how this woman has crawled inside me, but I’d willingly crawl inside her, too.

“This is some sappy shit,” Norm huffs, tipping his beer to his lips.

“I told you, you grouchy old fuck…” I snag his beer and nod to the door.

“Aw, come on, Gunner. I’m your best customer.”

“Not today, you’re not. Today you’re an epic fucking pain in my ass. Get the fuck out and stay out for a while. Find a new watering hole to shine your fucking positivity on.”

Norm shakes his head, backing away and slinking out of my bar as Cash moves onto the second chorus.

“Copper Sunrise.”

That’s what she’s titled the song. While she may have been scared about how slow and sweet and romantic it is, I think it’s the best thing she’s ever written. I can picture brides playing this song for their first dance decades from now. Whatever Cash is doing up at that lake house is certainly working.

She ends the song with a few quiet notes, then calmly stands and places the guitar back where she found it, moving off the stage as if the entire moment was a dream.

“Well, Sparrow, I’m not a man who hands out compliments freely, but that’s the best thing you’ve ever done.”

She tips her chin, her grin so fucking wide it nearly splits her cheeks and makes my heart beat double time. “That isn’t saying much.”

“I’ve spent my life surrounded by the best musicians and producers, and nothing has made me feel like you just did up there.”

“Are you trying to get in my pants again?”

I chuckle, bending to whisper in her ear, “Sparrow, you and I know that the only words I have to say to you fuck you are, ‘dirty slut.’”

She giggles and swats me.

I enjoy seeing her like this. She looks happy. I wrap my arms around her and pull her to me. “I’m serious, Cash. Your voice and lyrics are something special. You’re special.”

“Wow, Gunner, that’s a pretty incredible thing you just said.”

I trace a thumb along her hairline. “I meant every word. Seems country life agrees with you, Sparrow.”

“It’s not just country life that’s inspired me.” Her words are soft. She crooks her finger, telling me to bend. Once I’m close enough, she gets on her tiptoes and whispers, “That dick of yours ignites my imagination.”

The overwhelming urge to kick every poor fuck out of my bar and have my way with her all over this place is overwhelming. I need to kiss her, to let her know how fucking beautiful and perfect she is. “Imagine how much more material you’d have if you hadn’t avoided me for so long.”

“A day and a half?”

“Thirty-six hours of me wondering when I was gonna see you again was too long.” I touch my lips to hers in a slow kiss, swiping my tongue along the seam until she grasps my biceps and leans in for more. “Whaddya say I kick the rest of these guys out of here, and we go make some more music together?”

She pulls back, a surprised reaction on her pretty face. “You wanna shut the bar early?”

“Hell, yes, I do. I’ve got some ideas to inspire you with that last stanza.”

“What other instruments do you play other than the guitar? I have an idea to add piano and maybe some light jazz drums.”

“Mmm, I said nothing about using instruments to inspire you.” I press our lips together again, kissing her with deep, deft strokes. “We’ve got thirty-six hours to make up for.”