Saturday came around before Ishaana even felt the days passing, the weekend thrusting itself upon her like a shot, and she wasn't alone as she waited at the train station at eight o'clock that night. Melody sat beside her, elbows on her knees as she held a triangular half of a sandwich in both hands. She was heading home to Farnleigh for a couple of nights, the little town on the same route that Ishaana was travelling, and she had pushed her plans back in order to take the same train as her friend. While she scoffed the sandwich she had made herself for the journey, which hadn't made it more than the twenty minutes it took to get to the station, Ishaana snapped a square of chocolate off a bar.

Her sweet tooth was kicking in, craving a sugar high before she met Casey for a different kind of high altogether, and she had a couple of fruity ciders in her bag to give her a little buzz before she got to his hotel. Taking one out, she cracked it open and sipped the sweet nectar.

"I still can't believe you guys fucked in the service station bathroom," Melody said out of nowhere, stifling her laugh with a bite of her sandwich. She didn't swallow before she added, "I can't tell if that's really hot or kinda gross."

"It was hot," Ishaana said with a nod. "Those loos are surprisingly clean, and spacious. All you need for a quickie on the road."

Melody snorted, letting out a low chuckle as she shook her head and straightened her back, finishing off her sandwich. She washed it down with a swig of Coke and cross her legs, stretching against the bench they sat on. "Can I ask you something?"

"Do you ever need permission?" Ishaana asked. Melody considered that for a moment.

"I guess not," she said, and she looked to the side, eyes on her friend. "What're you doing, Ishy?"

Ishaana glanced to her right, resting her cider on her thigh, and she didn't need to say anything to prompt Melody to continue.

"You keep saying how this is no strings attached, but you can't act like he's not on your mind. I know you're thinking about him. I know he's wheedled his way in there. I just don't want you to get hurt," she said as she tore into a packet of crisps, the sharp tang of salt and vinegar burning Ishaana's nostrils.

"I'm not gonna get hurt," she said. "You only get hurt when there are feelings involved. And my only feeling is that I want to feel his dick in me."

Melody couldn't help the grin that licked her lips. "Well, I can't argue with that," she said. "What do we know about this Casey fellow, then? This guy who definitely hasn't given my Ishy the feelings for the first time ever."

"I swear, Mel," Ishaana said, "I don't have feelings for him. If he disappeared tomorrow, I mean, I'd be a bit concerned but for the most part, I wouldn't give a flying fuck. I know nothing about him." She flipped through her mental category of facts, coming across little more than what she had read online. After a handful of encounters with Casey, she knew even less about him than about his bandmate. "He's twenty-three," she said, "and he's in a band. Oh, and his last name is Watts."

Melody laughed and thumped her friend. "You knew that before you even met him, you twat!" she cried out. "Are you seriously telling me that you've managed to fuck this guy three times – it's three, right? – and you know nothing more than his name and his age."

Ishaana glanced from side to side, a grin fighting its way onto her pursed lips. "Correct," she said. "Facts complicate things."

"Facts turn sex into a relationship," Melody corrected, eyeing her friend.

"Exactly. I don't want a relationship, Mel. I like having no-strings sex."

Melody said nothing for a moment, her eyes on the departures board. Their train would be a couple of minutes late. Her gaze returned to Ishaana, a mixture of concern and disbelief. "It's not no-strings though. That's just a fact. And I'm not trying to complicate things, Ishy, but there seems to be a bit of disparity between what you say and what you think. You say there's nothing, but you think about him." She wiggled her finger, leaning in close. "I see it in your eyes."

Ishaana reached out and plucked Melody's glasses off her nose. "Well, let's stop you from seeing, then," she said, folding them in her hand. Melody couldn't help but laugh, settling against the bench. She could never be too serious for too long, usually dissolving in a fit of giggles or resorting to lamenting the state of her own love life.

"You'll feel so bad if I walk out in front of a train now," she muttered, making no effort to take them back. "And you'll have to explain to my mother that I didn't come home because you took my glasses and I got smushed by a locomotive. I hate to say it, Ish, but I don't think Mum would like you so much if you got me killed."

"Oh, shush," Ishaana said, laughing. "You can see a fucking train. If you can see me right now, you'd be able to see a train."

Melody squinted and jabbed Ishaana's shoulder. "I can see a blurry lump of denial," she said. Ishaana exhaled shortly, her eyebrows knitting together as though an invisible thread closed the gap between them. Folding her arms, she gritted her teeth and turned to watch the passengers on the station. When Melody lunged for her glasses, she put up no resistance. Melody was wrong. She knew that; she knew better than anyone that she didn't have feelings for Casey.

Melody let out a slow sigh when her lenses allowed her to see the hint of turmoil on Ishaana's face. "Look, Ishy, it's none of my business, really. I just love you a lot and I think that if there's even the tiniest chance of you falling for this guy, then you need to get out fast."

There was no chance of that, Ishaana thought. After all, she hardly knew him.

The train came at twenty past eight. A little after nine, Melody got off at Farnleigh station once she had hugged Ishaana goodbye with a wordless reminder to look out for herself. Several minutes after ten o'clock, the train pulled into Birmingham's main station and Ishaana tipped herself out of the carriage with a couple of ciders in her system, pushing her friend out of her mind as she headed out into the cold mid-March night. The city was quiet at this time, when almost every shop had been shut for hours and the clubs wouldn't kick off until midnight, and she waited at a quiet taxi rank for an eerie couple of minutes before a cab pulled up.

Seven minutes and four pounds later, she found herself standing outside the hotel where it had all begun. She was twenty minutes early, having arranged to meet Casey at eleven in the bar, so she headed there with her card in her hand. Promising herself not to go hard today, she ordered a beer and slipped onto a stool at the counter, sipping from the bottle.

The hotel's bar was buzzing, presumably with people who had come to stay in the city to see whatever band Casey had been supporting, and conversation flowed around her as people filled the booths and the tables and beside her, people butted in across the counter to catch the bartender's attention and top up their blood alcohol level. After fifteen minutes, the contents of her beer bottle whittling down to nothing, she ordered another of the same and glanced around the bar.

It was almost impossible to miss Casey when he came through the door, his blonde hair tied up in a skewwhiff topknot and a stumble in his walk as he headed straight for Ishaana with a grin on his lips and a dream in his eyes. He slid onto the stool next to her, leaning in to kiss her before he said a word. He tasted of whisky and cigarettes, breezing into the room on a tobacco draught, and he almost knocked Ishaana off her stool when he cupped the back of her head to kiss her.

"Hey," she said when he pulled away, dropping onto his own seat. "You good?"

"Fan-fucking-tastic," he said, his grin pushing creases around his eyes. His hand lingered on her knee, "We landed a gig in America. The United fucking States. Shit, Ishy, I'm so fucking pumped. This could make us. Shit. This is a big deal."

Ishaana realised that was the most she had ever heard him say at once, his utterances usually limited to a word or two that hardly strung together a sentence, and she had never seen him looking so happy. He ordinarily wore a sly smile beneath lustful eyes, but this was an expression of pure joy.

"That's awesome," she said, returning his smile. She had never been good at congratulations, or most expressions of emotion. "When are you leaving?"

"Fuck, I don't even know," he said with a laugh. "Soon, I think."

"Congrats," she said, and she realised she didn't even really know how to talk to Casey. After their first meeting, their encounters had been sex and nothing more: any talk had been about their bodies or what they wanted to do to each other. That was what she was used to. Sipping her beer, she downed a quarter of the bottle in one gulp, with no intention of hanging around in the bar for too long. "You staying out there for long?"

He shrugged, his elbow slipping on the counter. He had definitely already been drinking, perhaps ever since he and Bishop had finished their set a couple of hours ago. If he was the same at every concert he opened, then he had probably been hanging by the bat for a couple of hours already, and it showed in the looseness of his movements.

"A month, maybe two," he said. "I dunno. Maybe we can hook up again sometime when I'm back." He stretched out his spine and Ishaana worked her way through her second beer. An odd sense of relief trickled into her consciousness at the thought that he would be leaving, as though that would give her time to purge herself of him. She didn't want to be with him, but he was on her mind too much, wasting too many minutes on thoughts of him in her bed. With the long Easter holidays coming up, time that she had vowed to spend with her sister, it would help to be free from that distraction.

"Maybe," she said, but she didn't bank on it. A lot could change in two months. A lot could change in two days. She had no intention of waiting for him to come back, already planning a night out with Melody once he had left. "That's really cool that you get to go out there."

"It is," he said, leaning close to kiss her again. He almost missed her lips, slipping forward and squashing her against the bar. "Shit. Sorry. Shame you can't come out too."

Ishaana frowned, planting her hand on his chest and pushing him away. "What? Casey, this is just sex. That's all this is. We're not a thing. We're fucking."

"I know," he said with a laugh, one hand moving up her thigh. "We've got a good thing going, though," he murmured. "Gonna have to find me an American Ishy."

She smile, sighing her relief that he wasn't falling for her after the heart-stopping moment's fear that he wanted the two of them to be an item. The thought of a relationship – with anyone, not just him – turned her stomach. "I'm sure there are tons of girls who'll fall at your feet. You're a cute British singer. There'll be loads of girls who want to fuck you."

"Yeah," he said, chuckling as his ego expanded, "but not a lot of girls are into the whole, you know ... you know. This." He moved his hand between the two of them, indicating their slightly grey relationship. "You're always up for it. It's hot. You're hot." He grinned, kissing her again, and he bit her lip before he pulled away. "I don't want a girlfriend. I want someone to fuck."

They were on the same page, she thought, and she smiled. "So let's," she said, finishing off her bottleb and standing. Blood rushed to her head, mixed with the beers and ciders she had imbibed, and she dizzied for a moment. "You got a room?"

Casey grinned and nodded. "Same room. Twenty-one," he said, his eyes linger at the tops of her thighs. "Shit. Are you wearing any underwear?"

A wicked grin licked Ishaana's lips and without saying a word, she made a point of bending over with her legs straight, her short skirt riding up to give Casey a full view of what he was about to enjoy. He let out a groaning rumble of a laugh, reaching out a drunken hand to cup between her legs as she bent to get her bags. In the middle of the crowded bar, a little too dark and a little too busy for many people to notice them, he pushed his finger into her and she gasped at the unexpected contact. A second finger eased into her, slipping through the wetness that had built up all day.

She had woken up wet, masturbating her way to two orgasms before she even left her bed for the first time that morning, and rather than satiate her desire, it had only propelled it into a new realm of lust. All day, she had fought the urge to touch herself again, teasing herself to build up to tonight when she could let Casey take over.

When she stood, he leant close to her ear. "Turn around," he whispered, "and order a couple of beers." He eased her towards the bar, her back to him, and as she tried to get the bartender's attention to order another couple of drinks without questioning Casey, she felt his hand move between her legs. She moved her feet a little further apart, practicing her poker face as she acted innocent, just a girl at a bar trying to get a drink. But it was hard to act when she felt Casey's fingers replaced with something else, something cold and hard, and she had to swallow a gasp of shock when he pushed the neck of the beer bottle into her and she braced herself against the counter.

"Fuck you," she whispered, trying not to laugh as he stood behind her, surreptitiously pumping the near-empty bottle into her. Casey laughed, fingers trailing up her back as his touch tingled her skin.

"I am," he said, pushing it in a little harder, bumping Ishaana's pelvis against the counter when he thrust it into her, one hand on her shoulder. She pressed back against him, elbows on the table top as she ground her hips into him and curved her spine. He kissed her jaw from behind and she turned her cheek to meet his lips, closing her eyes as they kissed and he kept fucking her with the bottle.

The bartender came over at last and Ishaana had to swallow a moan when he asked her what she wanted, when Casey slipped one hand around her waist, tracing down her stomach until his fingers found her clitoris and he began to rub her in slow circles.

"Two more of the Blue Moon," she said, holding up two fingers at the exact moment that Casey pulled out the bottle and replaced it with his fingers, crooking them into her as he pushed in deep, fingertips serving for the soft patch of skin that could make her sing. She took a deep breath when his expert fingers found her G spot, teasing the spongy skin as he used her own juices to lubricate his fingers, continuing to rub her.

It was hard not to react when she knew that it wouldn't be long before an orgasm was out of her control, and he was building her up to a big one while she waited for the bartender to come back with the two bottles. Popping off the caps, he handed them across the bar to her and she nudged one over to Casey, tucking her card into her bra. Meeting his eye, she held his gaze for a moment, and he stared her down as he continued to finger her with both hands.

"I'm gonna fucking come," she whispered to him, and he slowed his movements.

"Finish your drink first," he said, a sly grin on his lips, and Ishaana inhaled deeply, curling her hand around her beer. She wouldn't last much longer, and she knew that her orgasm would overwhelm her. Doing it in public always did that to her, adding strength to her climax, and it was only made more intense by the fact that she had no control. Casey was in charge, pinning her against the bar as his hands worked her closer to the point of no return.

If she was going to finish her beer before she came, she'd have to pretty much down it and she gripped the bottle, bringing it to her lips and tipping her head back. She downed a third of the bottle before she gasped, catching her breath, and Casey sped up his movements. The tell-tale signs of an impending orgasm began to fizz between her hips and she threw her head back, finishing as much of her beer as she could in one go.

There was still a third left. It was hard to concentrate on drinking when Casey was continually pushing her closer and closer to a leg-shaking orgasm but she persisted, finishing off her beer with a heavy breath and banging the bottle down on the bar as Casey played her like a piano. He knew every key, playing a tune that pushed her over the edge.

Heat rushed down her spine to her pelvis as an orgasmic gush coursed through her, her legs shaking as she jerked away from Casey's hands, her breaths ragged as she leant against the counter and he pressed her against it to stop her from slithering to the floor, to the puddle she had squirted over his hand when he had teased her body in just the right way to make her spray him when she came. As her body juddered, he pushed his wet fingers into her mouth and she tasted herself on him, biting down on his skin.

"Holy fucking shit," he muttered in her ear. "You fucking soaked me."

Ishaana caught her breath, her dress damp against the back of her thighs, and she turned around to see Casey wrapping his grin around his beer, chugging a mouthful. She planted her hand on his chest and glanced down to see the wet patch on his thigh, where her orgasm had drenched him. "We'd better go clean you up then," she said, her hand grazing over his obvious erection. He strained against the flicker of her touch. She nodded at the door. "Let's go."

They weren't alone in the lift, sharing the ride up to the second floor before Casey led her to his room and slammed the door behind them. Probably to let Bishop know he was back and not to interrupt, she figured, though she wouldn't mind if he did. She only wanted more and more after Casey had made her come before they'd even left the bar.

"I want to fuck you so hard," he muttered in her ear, and she could smell beer on his breath as he pushed her towards the bed, desperately grappling with his belt. Ripping it off, he tore his jeans off and freed himself from his boxers, his erection springing free. Grabbing Ishaana's elbow, he curled her towards him and lifted up her knee to his waist, guiding himself into her with a forceful thrust.

The lack of warning took her by surprise, a short laugh escaping her as she accustomed to his girth in her, and he pushed her back onto the bed without ever slipping out of her. She lay back in her dress, letting him pound into her. She was putty in his hands, lifting one ankle up over his shoulder to let him push into her deeper. One of his hands gripped her waist, the other squeezing her breast through her dress as he threw his head back and grunted each time he forced himself into her harder and harder.

Ishaana reached up, tangling her hands in his hair, and she met his eye. "Fuck me with your hard cock," she muttered, egging him on as he groaned at her words. "I want you to fuck me so hard. I want you to come in me. Come in me, Casey."

He sped up, slamming into her so hard that the bed shook, the headboard banging against the wall, and Ishaana threw her arms behind her head, bracing her against the bed. Her back arched, inviting him in deeper, and she didn't need to touch herself as he pounded her. It wasn't often that she came through penetration alone, almost always needed to stimulate herself to reach orgasm, but she felt one building with each rough thrust.

Casey came with a groan, almost collapsing on top of her before he slipped out, dropping onto the bed, and Ishaana replaced him with her hand, madly fingering herself when he gave up, breathing hard beside her. She lifted her knees to her chest, one hand pumping into herself as she gave in and rubbed her clit with the other. Her hips dug into the bed as she pushed herself closer and closer, riding so close to the edge that it was agony not to fall into the abyss of orgasmic bliss.

It was a few minutes before she threw her head back with a wail. Her entire body pulsated, throbbing as her second orgasm ripped through her even more explosively than the first, drenching the sheets as she shook, every muscle clenching. Beside her, Casey lay on his back with his hand over his chest, watching her masturbate.

"Shit," he said, a laugh bubbling up to the surface. "You're so hot when you come. You're so fucking hot. God. Shit, Ishy. You squirt like a motherfucker."

Her chest heaved as she came down from her high, letting her legs drop back onto the bed, and she rolled her cheek against the sheet. "When you treat me right," she said, breathing hard. She smiled, her lips pulling into a grin. "I really fucking needed that."

"Me too," Casey said, inhaling deeply and slowly letting the breath out through his nose, and he nodded as though agreeing with himself, an afterthought. "Me too."

Casey was asleep. He lay on his front, snoring after the night that had exhausted him, but Ishaana couldn't sleep. She had laid beside him for almost an hour, willing the night to take her into its grasp, but that wasn't happening.

When the clock hit one, she stood, pulling one of Casey's t-shirts over her naked form, along with a pair of his boxers when the top didn't quite cover her buttocks. She could hear music from next door, the door that she knew belonged to Bishop, and she padded over to it, pushing it open quietly without knocking.

He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, a guitar in his lap as he strummed the strings with his left hand. His fingers moved so swiftly, dancing over the keys, and his eyes were trained on a notebook on the duvet in front of him. Music notes were scrawled on a hand-drawn stave that he followed, murmuring along impromptu lyrics, and he looked up when he heard the click of the door.

"Oh, hey," he said, raising his eyebrows at her. "Hey, Ishy."

"Hey," she said, semi-stumbling over to him. She was still a little tipsy after the drinks that she had swallowed in quick succession, even the low alcohol content going straight to her head. She'd hardly eaten a thing since lunch, nothing to soak up what she had drunk.

"You ok?" He lifted the guitar off him, leaning it against the bed. Ishaana nodded and dropped down next to him.

"I can't sleep," she said, her lips loosened by the beers and the ciders that had preceded them. "I heard you still up. You can tell me to fuck off and I'll go."

"You don't need to go," he said, and he smiled. "What's up?"

She lay back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "I like the song," she said. "Whatever you were just playing. It's nice."

"Cheers." He closed the notebook, dropping it onto the floor next to his guitar. "Just something new I'm working on. Trying to get some new material together. We've got a few things coming up."

"Mmm," Ishaana hummed. "Casey told me about America. Congratulations, by the way. Sounds like an awesome opportunity."

Bishop smiled, and she noticed his dimples for the first time, identical dents in his smooth, dark cheeks. "It could be," he said. "At the very least, it's a chance to see the states. There's no guarantee anything will come of it, but it'll be cool to play over there. See if we have a chance of a transatlantic audience."

"That'd be cool," she said, studying the lines on the ceiling. "I haven't heard much, but I like what I've heard. It's ... artsy. And your playing is ... I don't know. Kind of ethereal. Hauntingly beautiful." Her words always flowed a little more when she'd had something to drink.. Looking over at Bishop, she smiled when their eyes met. "Sorry about the other day. For snapping at you. That was unfair. You're nice. And Casey's your bandmate. So I guess it is your business."

He watched her, his lips pressed together. "Thanks, I guess," he said, his eyes exploring every feature of her face from her deliciously full lips to her strong brow, her sharp jaw and her dark eyes that soaked up the light. "Ishy?"

"Bish?"

"What're you doing with Casey?"

She smiled at him. Sober, she might have frowned, but a few drinks had addled her mind. "We're fucking," she said. "I already told you that. You know that." Laughing, she added, "You've seen that."

"Mmm." He nodded and he lay down beside her, hands over his stomach. "I know. But you're smart, Ishy. At least, you seem smart. You're doing politics. I thought you were trained to see through the bullshit."

"I am," she said. "I almost have two thirds of a degree in spotting a load of crap when I see it."

"So why're you with Casey?" he asked. "You're not stupid. You're a smart girl. Casey can be a bit of a wanker, to be honest. I don't want you to have to learn that the hard way, Ishy."

She looked at him, her cheek against the cool sheet. Their faces mere inches apart, she studied his face in the semi-light of the moon flooding the room. His back to the window, his face was a shadow but she could make out the mountain range of his features, the curve of his cheek and the point of his nose that dipped to his black eyes. "We're just fuck buddies," she said. "Friends with benefits. Whatever you want to call it."

Bishop hummed to himself, turning his eyes to the ceiling.

"I don't have feelings for him," she said. "I don't care. You're right. I'm not stupid. I don't fall for the people I fuck."

"Do you fuck the people you fall for?" he asked, his gaze meeting hers once more, and she laughed at his semantics.

"I don't know," she said. "I've never fallen for anyone before. So I guess we'll see."

"Mmm," Bishop murmured. "Don't fall for Casey."

Ishaana watched him. Her eyes lingered on his chest as it rose and fell with each breath, lifting her stare to his plump lips and his long eyelashes, and she let out a heavy sigh as she began to tire at last. "I won't."

+ - + - +

well. i hope you like this chapter! anyone wanting to change their mind after last chapter's poll. i will say one thing: i discussed a couple of potential endings with my tipsy housemate, and let's just say that some decisions have been made . . .

enjoy!