Even Lovers Drown

Pacing the hall of dressing rooms, Blake grumbled to herself, unintelligible burst of words and fragments of sentences, sections of her thoughts that wouldn't stay locked up in her anger. The light hum of a headache buzzed around her mind, irritating her further. Not much of a change from her short storm outside, the one that ended due to the unbearable heat. It was a good thing Say Goodbye wasn't opening the show. In her state, Blake wouldn't be much good at revving up the crowd.

This was Saylor's fault. One night, that was all Blake asked for, a little fun in her bunk and a rest that would leave Saylor far more satisfied than sleeping in the van. Blake wouldn't keep her up all night. Someone on the bus would get tired of hearing them and would tell them to shut up, something that had happened to Blake on more than one occasion. Saylor would have gotten enough sleep to do her job the next day. They could have had fun getting to know each other. But Saylor had to deny her in front of her friends.

"Get lost?" She scoffed.

"Are you normally this angry?" a teasing voice asked from behind her.

Blake spun around, caught in her fuming by a stranger. She wasn't alone in the hallway anymore and she almost panicked at the thought of embarrassing herself further. But the panic dispersed once she laid eyes on the woman leaning casually against the wall.

She skimmed over the woman's physical features, a pair of hazel eyes topped with smoky shadow and an upturned nose. Her body begged for Blake's attention, demanded it even. The vest she wore needed a shirt underneath to be considered decent for public use, barely reaching two inches above her navel. The top of her bra peeked out above the vest, and her breasts spilled over the too small cups. Her jean shorts, if they could be called such, were cut shorter than some panties Blake owned. Long legs stretched out for, what seemed like, miles and ended at a pair of six-inch stilettos. Every curve of her body was exposed in the fitted garment.

Blake smirked, drinking in the woman's appearance. Thoughts of Saylor's rejection fleeted from her mind, no place for them amongst the soft heat pulsating through her body. Her eyes strayed on the woman's chest before meeting her eyes.

"Pre-performance jitters," Blake said, "Some people feel like vomiting, I grumble. Keep it a secret?"

A lie. She hadn't had pre-performance jitters since high school. She wasn't going to tell some stranger in tight clothing about being denied a night of no strings attached fun. Especially not this woman. Blake knew what she wanted. She had seen plenty of women like her. There was a reason she was wandering the backstage area in skimpy attire.

"My lips are sealed." The woman pretended to zip her plump lips.

Chuckling, Blake took a few steps toward the woman and stuck out her hand. "I'm Blake Andrews, lead singer of the headliner."

The band name didn't matter. This woman was here to have sex with a band member and she probably didn't care which one. There was the possibility that she recognized Blake, from the tabloids or because she did know the band, and actively searched for her. But she was more than likely there to get with anyone who she could brag about later.

The woman shook Blake's offered hand, confident. "I know. I'm Rebecca."

Blake didn't care. She wouldn't remember her name the next day. By the end of the night, "Rebecca" would be a distant memory, another notch in Blake's never-ending post. And Blake would end up the same in "Rebecca's" post.

"So, what brings you to this hallway?" Blake asked.

"Just looking around." She played with the collar of Blake's tee-shirt, twisting the material between her delicate fingers. "I have a backstage pass and figured I'd take advantage of it before the show."

Translation, she wouldn't stay for the show. A quick fuck and she'd be gone. That was fine. Blake didn't need her to stay around after they were done. They wouldn't trade numbers, wouldn't become a serious couple, wouldn't hear from each other again. Just how Blake liked it.

"Well, there's nothing fun out here." Blake nodded to a nearby door. "Why don't I show you our dressing room?"

"Lead the way," Rebecca said.

The acceptance of Blake's implied invitation was clear in Rebecca's flirty voice. She didn't need to work any harder to get what she wanted out of the woman, all she needed to do was take Rebecca by the hand and lead her to the Say Goodbye dressing room, which is what she did, holding the door open for Rebecca before following after her. This would be the ego booster Blake needed.

"So, this is our—"

Blake was shoved to the couch, her sentence coming to an abrupt halt. Flat on her back against the uncomfortable cushions, she stared up at Rebecca. She wasn't used to being the one pushed around, but if that was what the woman wanted, that was fine by her.

Smirking, Rebecca straddled Blake's thigh. "No need to waste time."

She pressed her lips to Blake's, not waiting for a response. They were soft and pushed against Blake's lips with vigor, and Blake wouldn't mind spending their whole time together simply kissing the woman's perfect lips.

But Rebecca had other plans. She trailed fluttery kisses from Blake's mouth to her neck, making her body grow hotter. Blake tipped her head to the side to give Rebecca more room.

Against her thigh, Blake could feel Rebecca's gentle rocks and the wetness that was sure to be staining her jeans. She didn't care much about the safety of her pants, only made mental note that Rebecca would be finished soon and her band mates wouldn't walk in on them. She could change her pants later. No big deal.

Blake's hands wandered Rebecca's body, stroking her scantily clad sides and slipping down to cup her round ass. A moan rang deep in Rebecca's throat, and the fluttery kisses against Blake's neck became nips. Blake's core tightened, her body molten. She needed to be touched. If Rebecca wasn't going to do it, she'd take care of herself later.

She lifted her thigh to meet Rebecca's increasing thrusts. Rebecca's bites were harsh against her skin, likely hard enough to leave marks. But it didn't matter. Blake's friends would see, make a few comments, and get over it. They knew her well enough to know what she did with her fans on tour.

But Saylor would see, and that wouldn't be good. She'd use it as ammunition in any argument. Instead of telling Blake to get lost, she would accuse her of sleeping around or having a disease. Blake would never win her over.

And what did Saylor's thoughts on her personal life matter? Blake wanted one thing from her and it wasn't acceptance. Acceptance had nothing to do with the long term sexual relationship Blake was looking for. It was something casual, not serious, similar to Blake's various encounters. Those women didn't care about what Blake did and they only got one moment with Blake. Saylor was going to get more, a relationship that would last the length of tour. And maybe occasionally when they returned home. She shouldn't care what Blake did.

Blake heard the distant sound of her tight pants being undone and felt a hand slip into her panties. The finger against her clit forced thoughts of Saylor to disappear from her mind, bringing her back to her moment with Rebecca.

"Oh," Blake mumbled.

"Problem?" Rebecca asked against her throat.

The steady strokes paired with the rough bites were sending Blake's mind into a fog of arousal. Rebecca's body grinding against her thigh in frantic jerks drew her deeper. Rebecca knew what she was doing.

Blake could smell their arousal around them and knew the band members would be pissed when they realized what she did in their dressing room. She didn't care, though. She wanted this, wanted Rebecca against her now.

"Not at all."

"Good."

Not another word was spoken. Their pants filled the silent room, mixing together in their desperate need. The heat coursing through Blake's body was almost unbearable. Her core tightened under the strokes till she was sure she could hold it no longer, yet her body refused to release. On top of her, Rebecca tensed with a sharp cry.

Behind her tightly closed lids, Blake didn't see Rebecca. Images of Saylor flashed through her mind. Saylor's body rocking against her, Saylor's sharp cry as she orgasmed. A wave of pleasure hit Blake, her body going ridged, a moan ripping from her throat.

The force of it left Blake weak and her lungs desperately gasping for air. The weight of a body against her, breathing equally ragged, didn't help. Her eyelids slid open and it took Blake a moment to sift through her haze and realize Rebecca was on top of her, not Saylor.

"Well," Rebecca took a deep breath, pushing herself to a seated position, "That was fun."

"Glad I could help," Blake mumbled.

Rebecca removed herself from Blake's thigh. Her face was flushed and her chest heaved with irregular breaths, but time wouldn't be wasted cuddling against Blake until her body calmed. Blake knew how it worked. Rebecca would leave.

She adjusted her clothing, ran a hand through her hair, the usual quick fixes to cover up what had been done. With a quick wave and flirty smile, Rebecca walked out of the dressing room.