Consummating Trust

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Book 4 of the Rockstar Romance series. Brandt and Chelsea, two very different people from different worlds fall in love. It should be the end of the story but love never happens easily. Brandt and Chelsea need to learn to grow together as a team and conquer their demons together along the way before receiving the biggest surprise of their lives.

Erotica / Romance
Cedonia Maison
4.9 14 reviews
Age Rating:



Thanksgiving came and went before we knew it. Now that we were back together, I wouldn’t let anything get between us again. I thought long and hard before taking any more jobs as an extra in a movie. They were unpredictable, and as far as I was concerned, a little too much hype. I couldn’t believe the amount of standing around and getting paid for doing nothing. Easy money, yes, but too boring and always ended up going over. No, I would stick with showing off the newest fashion accessories or boots for the small, local department stores. In and out in one day and I always could make it back to Brandt.

Brandt’s second tour with his bandmates in Social Offender projected their stardom to greatness unseen before. Two hit songs on the radio and a sold-out tour gave him little time to rest. I concentrated on working less and focused on us more since a misunderstanding ended up putting him in a coma just several weeks prior. Our whole six-month relationship had been one hurdle after another, but we made it work. When I looked at the two of us, sometimes I felt we were as different as night and day.

And sometimes I felt like we were made for each other.

We met in Wisconsin after his last tour, and although it wasn’t love at first sight, we had been working towards bigger and better things. Both of us were mending from previous relationships and had to learn to work together. We were still learning how to be a couple, but I couldn’t imagine my life without him. He grounded me in a way I could never admit to. His bold, alpha male status somehow complimented my quirky and unsure attitude.

Robert Brandt Stennet changed his name to a stage name of Brandt Roberts. Although he loved the fame and fortune that went with his band, he also appreciated being low key and having some anonymity.

Brandt’s birth mother, Angela, gave him his middle name before giving him up for adoption, and they just recently found each other. Diagnosed with cancer, she was not expected to live long. Brandt didn’t reveal how much it bothered him, but I knew it did. He had become close to her in the past couple months and feared her passing and I feared it too.

We spent much of the pre-Thanksgiving holiday with Angela and her boyfriend, Tom. She put up a brave front but was tired and pale, making sure we didn’t see how weak she truly was becoming. Brandt and Angela grew nearly inseparable while we visited, and we both promised to return the day after Christmas. Brandt insisted I spend Christmas day with him and my family in Wisconsin even though I told him I would prefer to be back in Tennessee. I was sure the time would be better spent there with Angela being so sick.

It didn’t help that all three of them ganged up on me until I gave in. Angela, Brandt’s strongest supporter, had an ulterior motive but I couldn’t imagine what it would be. Besides, spending Christmas in Wisconsin would be great for my Dad and Brandt. I hoped the distance and time apart plus the spirit of the holiday would help to ease some of the tension caused by our earlier misunderstandings.

My father was an old, crusty farmer still milking cows and working in the fields in Wisconsin. I loved my traditional upbringing, fashioned in religion and family values, but found the times had changed. My father rebuked anything other than his traditional norms, and the trials I endured in my relationship with Brandt weighed heavily on him. He wanted the best for his little girl but what he didn’t realize was how perfect Brandt was for me.

Of course, we would not leave Brandt’s adoptive family, the Stennets, out of it either. We made reservations in mid-December for a trip to New Hampshire, to a ski lodge, and then onto a short Christmas with his family. All of this would happen within a two-week break from the tour so we could get back on the road for a profitable New Year’s tour for the band. This time, it would be overseas.

Being stuck on a tour bus with the band for that length of time didn’t excite me, but the venues in Europe were going to be close together, and they would put us up in a hotel most nights. Quade, the bass guitarist, and his girlfriend, Mackenzie, would be the only other couple. Big John, acting manager and all-around great bodyguard, asked to stay back with his wife and newborn son. It would be hard not to have him, but I understood the difficulties of leaving for that long when you wanted to be there for your family.

Quade and Mac had a different relationship than Brandt and I did. They seemed at odds most times, but Quade never fed into her fanatics. She would rant and rave about something she wanted him to buy her, and most times he would give in to her whims to keep her quiet. I liked to give everyone a fair chance, but the more I learned about Mac, the less I liked her. She walked around at night on the bus without clothes on when I wasn’t there, and I even saw her flirting with another guy at a concert. I would have said something to Quade, but when I looked around, he stood in the shadows watching the whole incident. It led to another fight later that night, but as usual, he gave in to keep the peace. It was evident he loved her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t always enough.

And now I would be stuck in Europe with her. I would try to make the best out of it but refused to spend most of my time on a crowded bus listening to them fight and then makeup. Mac didn’t care who listened to them go at it or the fact Brandt and I slept in the bunk underneath. It made me uncomfortable, but Brandt shrugged it off, or worse yet, tried to have us match them. There must be something in the way I was raised, but to be so brazen in front of other people would never be in my DNA.

This weekend, the band stopped in Miami for another sold-out show. I got to the airport early on Friday morning and made my way to the bus just as the band woke up. Mouse, the roadie, sat outside looking haggard. He smoked a cigarette and drank his coffee looking close to death and I couldn’t help but give him some friendly advice. “You know, your hangover is probably twice as bad with you smoking. You should quit.” Generally, I tried not to nag people about smoking since I used it as my own go-to stress reducer in the past even though Brandt frowned on it. I happened to pick it up last month when we ended our relationship for a week but dropped it again even with the stress of the whole hospital ordeal.

“Yeah, I know. Your boyfriend is always riding my ass about it too.” I smiled. Brandt had gotten even healthier since his hospital stay if it was possible. He occasionally drank an alcoholic drink but never more than one or two drinks a night now that his kidney function returned to normal. He worked out on the road more too. If it were up to him, he would have the whole band doing it, but Ryder, his best friend and drummer, and JJ, the guitarist, would rather die than go out for a jog. Quade was kept busy keeping Mac happy, so he ran by himself most days.

“You know, you are in the paper again.” Mouse referred to the latest rag magazine. They pictured me with Brandt in Tennessee. He had been doing a charity appearance with the band before the short break, and when he pulled me in for a kiss at the end, it made the print as well as a popular music media site. Without Ron to stop him, Brandt didn’t shy away from the media attention with me involved. It didn’t bother him but it still bothered me, and Mouse knew it.

With a heavy sigh, I answered, “I know. At least it talked about the charity he promoted too.” The charity was for suicide awareness and one of several charities the band wanted to support. The shot of the two of us didn’t fare well with Wolfe and Associates, the PR agency he hired when we first started dating. They did their best to keep our relationship out of the limelight, but Brandt became more lax now Ron wasn’t with the band which made me need to be more vigilant. Brandt’s career focused on him being attainable as part of the band’s sex appeal. The record company played up the whole band’s sex appeal really, but as the lead singer, it proved to be at least a little more important he stayed within reach of his audience.

The door to the tour bus opened, and Brandt came out. “I thought I heard you.” He dressed in running pants and a plain white T-shirt but still looked sexy enough to devour. Brandt’s bedroom blue eyes pierced through me. His squared jaw always had some sort of 5 o’clock shadow on it, and he kept his hair straight, more blond than brown, and long enough to touch his shoulders. He was utterly sexy standing with his firm body right in front of me, and I still couldn’t believe he was mine. Sex appeal oozed from him even this early in the morning.

He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. “Going for a jog?”

I rustled his bed head as he pulled out a baseball cap from his back pocket. “Maybe I will put it off now with you here. I would rather take you out for breakfast.”

Shaking my head, I put my palm on his chest and pushed him away, getting nowhere with his firm body, “Oh no, jog first. If you don’t go now, you won’t be able to go later when the fans realize you guys are already in town.” It happened a lot. They were now required to drive through the night to make it to the next town early to prevent the bus from getting swarmed and not having any time to themselves, and I didn’t plan to ruin it for him. As it was, he took quite a risk jogging by himself out in public.

He laughed, “Then join me.”

I raised my eyes to him. “No, thank you. Even if I could keep up, I would die before we got around the block. No, I will wait for you here. I brought a book.” He rolled his eyes. Not that I was opposed to exercise, I just thought it was boring. I would rather spend the day cleaning than running on a treadmill. That way I accomplished more in a shorter amount of time. It worked to focus on cleaning when my anxiety reared its ugly head too.

Pulling away from his body I showed him the tattered cover of my book as he chuckled, “Honey, I am all the romance you need.”

I laughed. “You know I don’t read romance. These are the murder mysteries. The who-done-its. You are more than enough romance for me.”

I stepped closer to him and kissed him briefly before hearing Mouse say, “Oh, God.”

Previously, public displays of affection made me uncomfortable, but for all we had been through, I found nothing mattered except us anymore. We both laughed as Brandt left for his run and I hunkered down by a tree to read. I would go on the bus, but I was sure the rest of the band still slept, and I preferred to bask in the warm rays of sun only available early in the morning in Florida.

When Brandt got back, he took a shower and woke the rest for breakfast. We all went out to eat except for Mac. Her beauty sleep could never be disturbed. Waiting until after the soundcheck we finally had some alone time at the concert hall. With this being a bigger venue, it afforded us separate dressing rooms for each band member. Not all concert halls had this indulgence, and we took full advantage.

Not having the luxury of a bed, Brandt settled back on the sofa. I let his eyes follow me as I removed my clothes. Nudity was hard for me starting this relationship almost six months ago now, but he always made me feel so sexy, so beautiful, so confident. I had grown to appreciate his gaze and let my clothes drop to the chair beside him. His blue eyes grew darker with each addition of clothing to the chair and only when I stood before him fully disrobed, did I let him drink me in.

It wasn’t like we had been apart for long, but the look in his eyes was feral. An open lust made my nipples tighten and tingle. How could just his look make my body respond so quickly?

He motioned me to come forward, and I straddled his lap as I lowered myself down to him in a punishing kiss. He held his lips tight against mine as he clutched the back of my head, devouring me and I did the same to him. I thought we would run out of this passion, but it didn’t happen yet. He wanted me as much as I want him and when I went to rub my core against his strained denim, we both groaned.

Unable to wait any longer, he adjusted himself to pull down his pants as far as our combined bodies would allow. He was hard, more than usual as his stiff member touched his stomach forcing me to look away to his eyes, unable to feast on the sight of us joining. Some things were just still hard for me to look at. Besides, I much preferred to look at his handsome face.

Brandt tested me as he slid his finger deep inside, and when he met no resistance, he moaned deep in his throat. He always made sure I was ready and right now I couldn’t think of another thing I would rather do than have him inside of me.

Positioning myself above his gripped member, I looked into his eyes and waited. He nodded, and I lowered myself. Not that I asked permission, but I realized he loved the control. We learned a lot about each other over the past six months and I realized he craved the control as much as I needed him to control me. And control me he did.

Slowly, I lowered down on him and felt every minute inch of him as my core clenched around the welcomed invasion. My head lolled back, and my breathing increased rapidly even though I hadn’t started to piston myself on top of him yet. His head came forward, and he nuzzled between my small breasts, licking and sucking up the sweat covering my body.

With his hands on my hips, he initiated the rhythm. He guided me up and down on his shaft, and when we touched fully, he swept me back and forth to stimulate my clit as I purred my pleasure into his ear. He knew my wants and my weaknesses and used them to his full advantage.

Kissing me deeply again, I lost the rhythm, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he broke away from my lips to take my nipple between his teeth and pulled. His sweat glistened on his skin and our bodies slicked together. He moved me back to get his fingers down by my clit. Callused fingers rolled my swollen nub until I felt my body heat almost to burning. He sensed me nearing, and when I pulled up and away, he forced my hips down on him, taking him in deeper.

The room spun and I cried out his name as I clutched his head to my chest. He wrapped his strong arms around my back and held me as the spasms hit. Each spasm clenched his stiff cock and only when I was completely sated did he help to finish himself with me undulating dreamily around him. Still numb, I didn’t feel his release inside me but sensed his stiffening muscles and watched his eyes squint shut, and a look of pain/pleasure wash across his face. We could derive so much gratification from each other, making me feel powerful.

Working my way off the small sofa, I groaned due to the ache in my legs. The small piece of furniture did its job, but I missed having him to myself at his house in the luxury of our king-sized bed. I didn’t mention it as I knew it was hard on him too. He was torn between me and the road. Being on the road with him full time wouldn’t alleviate the issues either. We would still have to hide away for our little trysts. Europe was sure to give us little time alone and be just as challenging.

“You know, it would have been more comfortable on the bus.” I stood up and put my clothes back on. I could already hear the crowd forming in the concert hall and almost feel the fans’ excitement stirring.

“You know I can’t do it on the bus unless everyone is occupied elsewhere.” He gave me an exasperated look, positive he wished I could be a little more like Mac in that respect. But I just couldn’t climb out of the bunk and have people know we went at it like animals. They knew we had sex of course, but I felt the need to be discreet. I realized my mind worked overtime, but I would never think of having sex in a small bunk on a bus with people all around us.

Brandt stood up next to me still with his pants around his ankles, but now his member lay limp in front of me. No matter how many times I looked at it, I was still in awe. It went from soft to hard in seconds, and the silky feel of it always surprised me despite it being so rigid you could just imagine it hurting. It never hurt though. In fact, it felt wonderful. The amount of mind-blowing sex I had with this man was innumerable.

Almost as if he could read my thoughts he said, “Sooner or later, your bad girl persona will come out, and I will get you to turn off your mind long enough to enjoy it anywhere.”

I smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “Well, I can’t see it changing.”

He pulled up his pants. “You know how much I like a challenge.” It made me laugh, and I relaxed a little.

He certainly gave me a challenge from the start. Never envisioning myself being so daring both in and out of bed with any man, he pushed me to my limits, made me do things out of my comfort zone but always gave me some space to figure it out on my own. It worried me sometimes on how far he would go, but I knew he loved me and if he started to push too far, all I had to do was mention it, and he would stop.

After another long kiss, he headed to the after-party room to talk to the VIP guests. It was the give and take of any relationship. Or at least the give and take of our relationship and I only hoped it would strengthen as we learned more about each other.


The quickie in the dressing room only staved off part of my sexual tension for my girl. We had been dating longer than I had ever dated anyone else and if I could admit it to myself fully, I knew she was the one back in Wisconsin when I desperately pursued her, so unlike anyone I ever met. Beautiful, caring, amazing, and... special. The same word people used when describing her. It would never encompass all there was about Chelsea Moltke, but the word suited her in the broadest of terms.

After meeting the VIP guests, I waited to go on stage while my thoughts went back to Chelsea. Christmas was right around the corner, and I couldn’t be happier. I missed her when she left to go back to California. She promised me after the hospital stay, she would devote more time to being on tour with me and I believed her. When she told me she would come this morning, I knew she would. It was a nice feeling to know I came first in her life. I thought Hollywood would ruin her, but she promised me it wouldn’t and kept her word. She was still the same innocent, overthinking, wonderful woman I fell so hard for when we met.

This would be the first Christmas I would bring someone home with me. Not only that, but I was going to Wisconsin with her and spending Christmas with her parents. I remembered what a big deal it was for them to be together during the holiday and would move heaven and earth to make it happen. Being there might help raise my favorability with her father. Anything for Chelsea, even if I needed to endure time with the man who hated me.

Guilt clouded our time spending the holiday with her family since my birth mother was so weak, but Angela knew how much I wanted to make a good impression with Chelsea’s father. After she heard about the misunderstanding with him over Ron, our previous manager, she insisted on me taking her to Wisconsin for Christmas. Besides, we would be with Angela the day after anyway. It pained me to think this would be her last Christmas. She chose to die her way, and for that, I gave her credit.

We would have just enough time to visit Angela and Tom before we headed out on the European tour. The authorities in Europe cut our time short due to an old drug charge on JJ’s record. I didn’t want Chelsea to know. They were at odds sometimes because of his lackadaisical lifestyle and the calloused ways he treated women. I didn’t want her to have any more reasons not to go on the tour with us. Spending five weeks on the road with Mac would be hard for her as it was.

Hopefully, I would keep JJ in check overseas. Big John, the head of security and the ruler of this school of misfits, wouldn’t be coming with us and it left it to me to be the voice of reason, although I still had a lot to learn. Chelsea believed in me though. She still thought of me as her Superman. She gave me way too much credit and made me nervous about letting her down.

JJ rode my ass lately, saying shit like I went soft or implying Chelsea kept my balls locked up. Why was it that if you chose to stay on the bus and call your girlfriend you were a pussy? The bar scene wasn’t the same for me anymore. Eventually, you grow up.

Grow up. Man, I certainly talked like a pussy lately. At twenty-six years old I still had a lot of adventure in my future albeit I felt more responsibility since we fired our tour manager. The stress of the job fell on my shoulders as it was my idea to let him go. Ron was an asshole, a snake who tried to break us apart, both with my girl and with my band. I saw it now and thankfully caught it before the band imploded. It still gave me the drive to make this band a success beyond anyone’s expectations.

Going out to cause shenanigans on the road wasn’t my style anymore even though I missed the adventures, but I had a girlfriend. A girlfriend who thought I walked on water and I didn’t want to fuck it up. Gone were the days when I would even look at another woman. I used women in the past. My life changed from how much tail I could get and how many parties to hit to more of a focus on my music and my girl, and although JJ refused to believe it, I was better off.

Quade came up and slapped me on the back. He was just as excited to be on tour with our girls. I wished Chelsea and Mac would get along better, but I saw why they wouldn’t. Mac was hard to deal with and not the type of girl I would pick out for Quade. He was such a great guy, and I felt she used him for his fame.

I didn’t care for the way Mac looked at me lately or the rest of the guys for that matter. She was not the pristine girl Quade thought she was. She purposely walked around without a top on and showed off her rack. Being in a rock band, we would ride around with naked women on the bus in the past, but not one who currently dated a band member and it made us all nervous. Even JJ, and he instigated some sordid shit on more than one occasion.

JJ came over and got his guitar by me, and we walked closer to the stage. He saw the smile on my face which was made bigger by Chelsea’s appearance today. Noticing my jovial grin, he nodded at me, “Finally getting some?”

JJ knew Chelsea’s hang-up with having sex on the bus, and the fact it bothered me, so he razzed me on it. “Jealous?”

He laughed. “Not likely with the two I just fucked in my dressing room.” It could be bullshit, but then again, if anyone could talk the groupies into an orgy it was JJ.

“Two? They better have been of age.” He nodded. JJ got into some shit already with a senator’s underage daughter which almost resulted in jail time. The only thing working in our favor was the fact the senator didn’t want the publicity. It was lucky for me it occurred on a balcony in Green Bay after I met Chelsea. Otherwise, I might not have known how much of an asshole Ron turned out to be. The worst part of the whole situation was the senator protected his own senate seat with the scandal instead of protecting his daughter. What an asshole.

“Yep, learned my lesson.” I half believed him.

“Tonight is a special occasion. You’re going, right?” His birthday was today. Twenty-eight going on thirteen. He wouldn’t let me forget about the strip joint he had lined up for tonight. I hadn’t talked about it with Chelsea because I knew what kind of fight we would get into.

"JJ, by the time we get out of the parking lot and on the road, it will already be late. Maybe you should wait and go on Tuesday when we have a day off.” I needed to at least try to dissuade him.

“No way, man. This is the Funset Strip. The top-rated strip club in Florida and besides it has sentimental value. This was the first strip club I went to as an impressionable young lad. You aren’t trying to get out of it because of that disease you have?”

Knowing JJ, I was walking into a trap. I sighed, “What disease is that?”

“Pussy whippeditis!” He cackled and slapped my back. Yep, walked into that one.

"JJ, you wouldn’t understand. I--”

“It is my birthday, and you know the guy code. Don’t you dare puss out of it. Just ask Chelsea nicely, and I am sure she will give you your balls back for tonight.”

He obviously delighted with my dilemma. “Whatever. Fine. I will go.” I didn’t know what type of shit I would get, but I would be there. It was guy code after all.

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