Rockin' It Wilder

By G.G. Wylde

Guess I don't love her enough, 'cause I'm not ready to let her go.

Dex

My best friend's little sister. Tabitha. Tagged along behind us forever. Three steps behind and running to catch up, but we never minded. She was a sweet kid. Cute as a button, too.

Then one day, while waiting for her to join us, a beautiful siren ran down the hill to our swimming hole, towel waving behind her.

My heart leapt into my Tabby-cat's arms that day and she's had it ever since.

Her brother wouldn't stand in my way. He's known all along how I felt about her. Said it was written all over my face every time I saw her.

Told me no one else was good enough for his baby sister.

But… what about my Tabby-cat?

Would she want to be mine as much I want to be hers?

Even after I left her behind?

Tabitha

He was like my big brother. Until he wasn't.

Dex and his mom moved to Hillsboro when I was seven. He and my brother, Sid, were ten.

I followed them everywhere, running to catch up to their long strides.

Then we were thirteen and sixteen, and Dex was quarterback of the junior football team. On the wrestling team. Worked out six days a week. And it showed.

He had my heart the day he beat up Carter Wilson for spreading rumours about me at school.

But… would he want me forever?

Is he going to want the life I had to offer him?

Even after he learned the truth?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wylde at Heart Publishing
• Release date: Nov 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781738015719

Book preview

Rockin’

It

Wilder

By

G.G. Wylde

Wylde at Heart Publishing

This book deals with adult situations, graphic scenes of sexuality, sex between consenting adults, as well as minor incidents of sexual assault and dubious consent. This is intended for a mature (18+) audience.

If you do not enjoy reading lively, enthusiastic and graphic scenes of sexual gratification between consenting adults, do not read this book.

All rights reserved. Text Copyright ©2022 by Wylde at Heart Publishing

Cover Copyright © 2022 by Wylde at Heart Publishing. Photo courtesy of Cody Cowboy Photo. (https://cowboyshoots.darkroom.tech/)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. They are in no way meant to be construed as real. Any resemblance to real-life people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without express written permission from the author or publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

True love never leaves you behind, it pulls you along with it. Whether you want to go or not.

~ Unknown

1

Tabitha

TWELVE MONTHS OF MY love, my heart, travelling around the US and Canada loomed before me. Not sure how I’d survive without him, but I would. Somehow.

Tears threatened as I watched the two-toned brown bus, black exhaust billowing out as the engine laboured, pull away from me. 

Hand to my lips, I blew a kiss to Dex, waving from the back window of the bus. We stared after one another until we were out of sight. 

When we’d said goodbye, I tried to commit everything about him to memory. 

Tousled sandy brown hair he couldn’t tame framed a chiseled, tanned face I loved more than anything. 

Whiskey-coloured eyes, tender and loving, searched my face, looking for me to want him to stay. 

More than anything, my love.

Of course, I wanted him to stay, but I wouldn’t tell him that. I refused to be the reason Dex lost his shot at making his dream come true. 

My body still tingles from our last few days together. Cuddles, kisses and long love-making sessions, memories to last us the length of his debut tour.

Love of My Life’s bus sped away from me and I realized they wouldn’t last the night.

Twelve months. That’s how long you’ll be gone, lover. Twelve months. A sob stuck in my throat. An entire year.

We’d never gone longer than three weeks without seeing each other. Or two or three days without speaking.

This will be torture for me. Bet he’s so damn busy, he’ll barely notice I’m not around, I’m sure. 

Stomach twinging, nausea welled up in my throat. Never dealt well with goodbyes. And this was a doozy of one.

I never even told him I loved him. Didn’t want to tie him down to me. His lifelong dream of being a country rock star, touring the country, recording albums, singing to crowds was coming true. Who was I to stop him?

So I didn’t. I encouraged him. 

In the beginning, I acted as his manager. Found him gigs, picked out his wardrobe, rehearsed with him, and even gave him pointers on how to treat the ladies. That last one killed me. I wanted to be his lover, not encourage him to be a ladies’ man. 

It was important to him to live the life he’d dreamed of. My love for him, hidden away behind my role as his assistant and best friend’s little sister, never wavered. It grew. 

More time I spent with him, more I loved him, until he was everything I craved in a man. Everything except here. With me.

The bus was a speck in the distance when I walked away. Figure he didn’t wait that long to turn away from the window. But I needed to feel like I was with him as long as possible. 

That’s what happened when you loved someone as long and as hard as I’d loved Dex Wilder. You did things you didn’t think anyone else would understand. 

Tears stung, but I refused to give in to them. It was only a year. He promised he’d be back. I could wait that long. Hell, I’d wait a lifetime for him.

Headache, a buildup of stress and anxiety, beat a tune in my head. Eyes hot and achy, I hoped I wasn’t getting sick.

One step at a time, I made my way back to Rock It To Me, formerly The Rosewood Diner. Sid, Dex and I, the three musketeers, spent so many hours in those blue vinyl booths that we up and bought the place five years ago. Turned the old rundown diner into a creative powerhouse with a stage, a place for fledgling writers, comics, musicians and bands, including himself. 

Dex christened the stage with a kick ass performance. I sang back-up for him, like many nights before, but afterwards was different.

Lots happened that night, and since, but I had no regrets. Then or now. 

The diner was closed until noon on Sundays. Perched on the edge of the stage, memories of Dex’s first performance here ran through my mind. 

And our private performance afterwards. 

I gave into the tears then. Wasn’t sure Dex would find his way home. Or if we’d find our way back together.

I remembered Dex up on the stage that night, with his guitar over his shoulder. He caressed the microphone like a lover and belted out tune after flawless tune. Some covers, some originals. 

Everyone loved his voice, his look and his sound. I knew then I could get him to the next level, take him to wherever his dream took him. 

At six-four, Dex stood head and shoulders above most men. He was a perfect compliment to my five-foot-ten frame. One twinkle of his come-fuck-me eyes and women swooned at his feet.

He only saw me.

I fit in his arms like a hand in a glove. Broad-shouldered, tapered waist, arms that held me tight. And a cock that left me boneless, but satisfied. 

I’ll never find another love like his. Don’t want to try. 

Head in my hands, I allowed myself to wallow more than usual. It wasn’t like me to cry over a failed, almost real, relationship. 

Hell, yes, we’d been lovers, damn inventive and satisfied ones, too. We’d also been best friends and business partners. 

I lost it all when Dex left on the tour bus. So, fuck that shit, I cried myself out before putting on my big girl panties and getting down to business.

Hands braced against the worn wooden planks, I got control of the tears and, pushing myself up, wandered into the kitchen. It was time to prep the diner.

Hey, Amelia. Hi, Sylvie. Our resident kitchen goddess and Dex’s Mama both grinned at me. How’s things going today, ladies?

Those ladies were no fools. They saw me come in. Witnessed my breakdown. They knew what the problem was.

Hun, it’s all good. Sylvie watched my eyes for signs of needing a hug. Dex get off all right?

Yeah, yeah, he’s gone. First stop, Brockton tonight. Emotion clogged my voice. My headache pounded. Tears filled my eyes.

My tummy felt dodgy, worse than before. I swallowed a mouthful of bile and raced to the restroom. Leaning over the ceramic bowl, throw up dripping from my lips, I wiped my mouth with some toilet paper and ran through my schedule. Panic raced up my throat.

No. No. It can’t be. I bit my lip to keep from crying. Not now. Not with him gone. What am I going to do?

You’ll pick up, carry on and smile as you do it. Amelia, who followed me into the restroom alongside Sylvie, handed me a warm cloth and a glass of water. I rinsed my mouth with the water, wiped it clean with the cloth.

God, I feel so alone. Changes and uncertainty loomed before me, ready to crush me at a moment’s notice.

You’re not alone, sweetie. Sylvie rubbed my back. We’ll take care of you. Like we always have. Sylvie’s arms wrapped around me as I broke down again.

But I’m alone. At least I’ll always have a piece of Dex with me. And our memories.

State of my relationship with Dex was uncertain, but my foreseeable future was all planned out.

2

Dex

I WAVED OUT THE BACK window of the bus as it took me further away from my home. And my heart, the only one I needed, I’d left behind.

My dream of becoming a country rock singer was finally coming true, but it was taking me away from the one person who made me whole. 

The one person who made me accountable for everything I said and did. Only one who could keep me in line, because I let her. I loved her. God, how I love my little Tabby-cat.

I’d told her it was only going to be a year. Twelve months. A promise I shouldn’t have made. They were already discussing plans that might take us over to Japan or Australia. Randy, my manager, told me it was going to be closer to eighteen months, not twelve. 

Didn’t tell her, couldn’t tell her. It hurt like hell to let her down. Bad enough, I let myself down by leaving her at all. 

Randy figured I’d already put Hillsboro on the map and should leave this hick town behind me. So long as my Tabby-cat lived there, I’d always come home to, in his words, this damn hick town.

I’d loved her since the day I met her when she was seven years old. At first, she was my best bud’s baby sister, annoying but cute as she followed us around like a little lost kitten. As we got older, that all changed. 

When I was a Junior in high school, she was a budding teenager. I noticed things about her. The way her hair smelled like cherries. Long, elegant fingers. I envisioned her stroking my shaft before I took her. Wickedly warped, sarcastic sense of humour. Her witty comebacks for anything and everything. 

Tabitha was beautiful, bright, and witty. With a fantastic, yet eclectic, taste in music. And she loved people watching.

We were two peas in a pod.

I sat in the back of the bus, watching where we’d left Tabitha standing in the distance. Thought of walking away tore my heart out. So I kept watching, knowing she was watching me, too.

Kept looking. Still remembering the things about her that made me fall in love with her. 

Hair the colour of corn silk. Down to her waist, wavy and thick. My loins tingled as I remembered how silky soft it was. The silkiness of it brushing against my hard cock, which usually meant her mouth was about to suck me in, inch by inch.

Her soft hands, gentle as they stroked me, driving me crazy before I slipped inside her. Fingers wrapped around my shaft, sliding up and down, cradling my balls.

Head back, I groaned, missing everything about her. 

Her ass came to mind next. Round, juicy and the perfect handful for me. Nothing got me excited faster than the sight of her cunt peeking at me from between her legs, just below that delectable ass.

Nothing except her sweet pussy. Gah, so delicious and wet with one glance. A raging hard-on strained against my jeans as I let memories wash over me. I needed my girl, and I left her back in Hillsboro. The year loomed ahead of me, lonely and bereft, without her. 

I locked the bedroom door and let my cock loose. Stiff and ready, it bobbed, looking for its favourite sweet spot. My fingers wrapped around the base, squeezing just right, and I laid my head back, thinking about my Tabby-cat’s mouth sucking me off. Her featherlight kisses playing up and down my shaft, licking me like an all-day lollipop. 

I whined, remembering the way she’d suck me in, right to the back of her throat. Then she’d swallow, the movement igniting the head of my prick. The first time she’d ever wrapped her lips around my rod, I lost it. So good I almost couldn’t wait to cum for her, shooting my orgasm into her mouth and savouring it as she gulped it hungrily. 

Hand working me, I moaned and gasped my way to a blinding orgasm, with thoughts and images of my girl running through my mind. I cleaned myself up and looked back on how our lives played out.

I went off to college on the East Coast at eighteen. Tabby was an awkward fourteen-year-old with braces who trained constantly for her budding career as a barrel racer. Didn’t make it home again until the end of my first year. 

Barely recognized my Tabby-cat when I got out of the car. At fifteen, she was looking all grown up, competing as a barrel racer in rodeos all over five states, and teaching horseback riding when she wasn’t training. And, let me tell you, she looked like she should join me at college that fall. She looked that much older than her age. 

That’s when I fell for her, cowboy hat, boots and spurs. Tabby and I rode a lot of horses on the ranch we both worked on. She was a horseback riding instructor and a groom. I was a ranch hand. 

Smooth worn Wranglers showcased her endless legs, from the top of her boots to the way they hugged her perky ass. Teased me with every