Page 73 of Revelry

“Fuck you, arsehole,” I growl, and I swear I’m this close to punching his fucking lights out. He knows how much I hate these things, and he knew I’d flip the fuck out hitting that button.

“I’m not fucking with you, man,” he says, raising his voice to meet my own pitch. “I’m hitting the button and it’s not fucking doing anything.”

My breath comes in sharp jabs through my lungs. I can’t get enough of it. My fingers tremble as I shove him out of the way and hit the button several times, slamming my fist against the consul. “Fuck!”

“Coop, breathe. It’s okay. They’ll see that there’s been a problem and then they’ll fix it,” Ali says in a reassuring, even tone, as if she’s talking to a kid. And I guess right now that’s kind of true. She cups my face between her hands and forces me to look down at her. “Just breathe.”

“You might need to distract him, Red.”

“Shut up, Quinn,” Ali says.

The car lurches and starts up, and I almost weep in relief, but then it jerks abruptly and shudders to a stop. Again. And then the lights go out.

Ali actually lets out a little whelp of surprise, and I groan and rest my head against the wall. It’s pitch black. I can’t even see the outline of her body in front of me, but I can feel her, pressing against my side. I automatically throw my arm around her shoulder. More for my own comfort than hers.

“Quinn, if we make it out of here alive, I’m kicking your fucking arse,” I threaten.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know this was going to happen?”

“What the fuck did you expect to happen when you pressed that button, cock-fuck?” I snap back.

Several long minutes tick by and I breathe a little easier with her beside me, but then the car lurches again and the cables groan loudly. My heart rate soars, my lungs seesaw and my stomach twists. “Fuck.”

Ali reaches out, her hand startling me as it slides down my stomach and across the front of my jeans. She finds my dick beneath the fabric and cups me, squeezing with just a hint of pressure.

“What are you doing?”

“Distracting you,” Ali says, unzipping my fly and pulling my cock free. She slides her hand up and down my shaft, coaxing it to harden in her hands. “Is it working?”

“Yeah.”

“Breathe, Cooper,” she says, and I tilt my head, and press my sweat slick forehead to hers. I can’t get enough air; my lungs constrict painfully. My fear is only lessened by her closeness—and, yeah, her hands on my cock.

“You know there’s an awful lot of heavy breathing coming from over there. If I didn’t know better I might be jealous,” Levi says, blinding us all by pulling out his phone. Her cheeks are flushed, and her whiskey-coloured eyes are glazed with heat.Fuck she’s gorgeous.

“Well, I got no reception,” he mutters and then glances up at us. “Hey, what the fuck? How come he gets a hand job?”

“Because he is in need of a distraction from his freak-out. One that you so very cleverly brought about by pushing that button,” Ali says.

“Besides, I get special treatment because I’m the lead singer in a band,” I murmur, and then I sink my teeth into my bottom lip and groan as she collects a drop of pre-come from the slit, smoothing it over the head of my dick.

“Yeah, what else is fucking new?”

“That was a joke, dumbarse. I do not get special treatment,” I complain, and then I groan when Ali grasps my balls and squeezes.

“Uh, yeah you do. It’s the Cooper Ryan show, dude,” he says, and then adds, “which is great if you happen to be Cooper Ryan.”

“Fuck off,” I argue. “It’s not like that.”

“You know what? We should disregard what I said before and just fuck,” Ali says, throwing us way off-topic. “One last time, you know. Get it all out of our systems. I mean, what’s the harm, right?”

Neither one of us need much convincing.

When the lights come on and the elevator finally starts up again, Ali is writhing on top of me, my hands on her clit and Levi’s cock in her mouth. We both finished before she had the chance to come again, and I feel like a complete prick because of it.

The three of us struggle to put our clothes to rights. She has sex hair, her pale cheeks are flushed with desire, and she looks so fucking edible that for a moment I wish the elevator would stop again. And then I think about us plunging to our deaths and that desire is quickly forgotten. Ali smooths down her hair as the lift comes to a stop, and the doors open on the lobby. There’s a team of hotel staff stationed in front of us, offering apologies and refreshments. We’re told our stay will be complimentary because of the hour that we were trapped in a fucking elevator that went unnoticed. It was another forty-five minutes before they sent a technician in to get us out. We walk through the lobby. Outside, a crowd of fans huddle around the lobby doors, held back by a barricade. I put on a brave face as we walk out to greet them.

“Cooper, are you okay?” a teenage girl asks. Another shrieks as I approach her.

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