Bad Boy Rock Star

by Starr, Candy J.

  "I'll get us some drinks."

  He grabbed me.

  "Do your stuff," he whispered in my ear.

  I shook my head. "We don't want to mess with these guys. They look dangerous."

  His hand cupped my elbow and I could feel his body leaning in close to me while his breath tickled through my hair. I put my arm around his waist, figuring it was better for the thugs to think we were together than that I was single.

  "But I've put a hundred bucks on this game."

  He squeezed my arm tighter.

  I forced out a laugh. The two thugs glared at us and could quite easily snap. The walls of the room closed in and the air had been sucked out. This situation would not get any better.

  "Oh babes, don't be so dirty," I said and play-slapped him.

  I rolled my eyes at the tall thug as though Jack was being a bit naughty then walked up to take my shot.

  I hit the white ball so it skimmed our balls and hit one of theirs, giving them two shots.

  Jack raised his eyebrow but didn't say anything. The short, fat thug sidled up to Jack, blowing his stinky breath on him.

  "You shoulda taught your woman better."

  He held out his hand for the cue. Jack had rolled up the sleeves on his t-shirt to show his tats but they seemed so tame compared to the homemade "love" and "hate" on this guy’s hand. They looked like the type of tattoos you'd do while you had time to kill. In jail.

  When Jack had his shot, his stupid ego took hold and he sunk two balls. The walls moved in even closer. There was no way we'd be getting out of there alive. Even less chance if we actually won the game. They'd beat us up and then take the money anyway. I'd rather just hand them the money and skip the physical pain.

  The tall guy moved over and hovered near me. My hands went all clammy and I was glad it wasn't my shot. He reached over and squeezed my butt. I jumped away but he just laughed.

  "I shoulda bet for this one insteada money. You don't wanna throw her into the deal as well do ya?"

  The hairs on the nape of my neck bristled. I reached out for my beer and moved out of his grasp.

  Jack shook his head. "She's not on offer, sorry."

  As the thug took his shot, Jack gestured to me. I had no idea what his wild hand signals meant. I nodded my head towards the front bar and hoped he'd be ready to flee when I did.

  "Your shot, darlin'."

  The thug moved towards me like he planned to grope me again. Jack moved towards the doorway. That gave me hope that he'd show some sense. Jack reached over to whisper in my ear.

  "I don't have any cash on me."

  Fuck.

  If I messed up this shot, we'd be in the shit. With no money to pay them, the thugs would skin us alive. If I won the game for us, they'd beat us and probably skin us alive anyway. The only option was to flee.

  I leaned across the table, keeping my eyes on the thugs then aimed straight at the black ball, getting it in the side pocket.

  "Our game," said the shorter one. He looked at me, licking his lips.

  "Back in a sec, must be my shout," I said. I strode to the bar, like I had every intention of returning. Jack waited in the bar. He saw me, grabbed my hand and we fled from the bar. I thought he'd run back to his car but once he started running, he kept going. We ran down the cobblestoned laneway behind the bar, crisscrossing through the connecting streets. He dragged me along by hand, forgetting I wore heels that got caught between the stones. Every time I stumbled, he jerked me up. The pain shot up my side but I kept running, figuring it was better to put with it than to let those thugs catch us.

  "Are they following us?" I panted when we finally stopped.

  "I don't think so. We've got a far bit of distance behind us and they didn't look very fit."

  I bent over, trying to get my breath back. He put his arm around me.

  "Are you okay? I forgot about the accident earlier."

  "Oh yeah, thanks for that. Saving my life and all that."

  "You probably wouldn't have died. You might have just had some brain injury or something. Nothing you'd notice much."

  I punched him on the arm.

  I steadied myself and leaned against the stone wall. My chest heaved, each deep breath making my breasts rise and fall.

  "How are we going to find our way back to the car?"

  Now I’d stopped running, all the pain flooded my body. The burning in my calves, the blisters on heels and the dull ache in my side.

  Then I noticed him staring at me.

  "What are you looking at?"

  "Nothing." But he didn’t take his gaze from mine then he reached over and brushed my hair back from my face.

  I gulped then we both laughed.

  Then the laughter disappeared from his eyes, replaced with the same look he'd given me during filming. I couldn't meet that look, figuring it would drown me. It churned my stomach and heated my body.

  I giggled nervously as the heat from my body settled between my legs.

  He grabbed my wrists and drew my hands over my head. A shudder went through me from the tips of my fingers right down to my feet. I struggled to break free from his grip but he held me so tight I knew it was pointless and I knew the look in my eyes was telling him "yes" even while I tried to break free of him.

  He moved in so that the length of his body was against mine. His chest pressed against my breasts, feeling my hard nipples, his legs wrapped around mine, his cock rubbing against me.

  Every part of me yearned for him to kiss me and my struggling now became a writhing to get closer to him, to press him against me and feel his hardness.

  Then he kissed me.

  He kissed me like I was his for the taking. Not the slow, teasing kiss of that first time but sure and rough and demanding. His mouth crushed into mine, his tongue ramming inside me. Flesh on hot flesh. My leg rising up to circle his waist.

  While he had my arms pinned against the wall, my hips thrust against him, grinding into him. His mouth moved from my lips to my neck, sucking and biting. I squirmed tighter against him.

  This was a bad, bad thing but I didn't want to stop. The adrenalin from running coursed through my body, heightened by his kiss. This was bad, bad, bad. The refrain kept going through my mind but somehow, the thought of the badness just made me hotter.

  He let go of my wrists and moved away from me but I grabbed his hips, that hollow I’d noticed earlier, and pulled him closer.

  At that moment, I wanted him and to hell with the consequences. I wanted him to take me, right there against the wall in that dark alley. I rubbed myself against him, against his hard cock, my fingers entangled in his hair, his fingers stroking my breasts. Heat emulated from our bodies, all sweaty from the run and getting sweatier. His skin tasted salty under my tongue.

  I moaned as his fingers worked their way down, to feel the wet cotton of my panties between my legs. I moved against his fingers as they inched their way inside the elastic. I needed to have him, his fingers, his cock, anything.

  And then…

  "Look, pashers!" I heard a voice call out. Then some kids giggled.

  Jack pulled away from me and swung toward them but they'd run off, their foot-thuds and laughter echoing down the alleyway.

  I straightened my skirt and ran my fingers through my hair. I know they were just a couple of kids but it struck me how I must have looked to them. I’m not one of those girls who spread her legs as soon as some guy acts nice towards her and I’d seen for myself how Jack Colt treated women. How he could be so nice to their face then talk mean about them behind their back. I’d seen how he changed from his hurt, vulnerable little boy act, to nasty and snarling.

  If I let him near me, he’d be like a wrecking ball, destroying everything in his wake.

  Hannah, I told myself, you have to be stronger than anyone.

  But I couldn’t meet his eyes and as we walked back to the car, I still ached for his touch.

  Well, not so much walked as hobbled. My feet had been torn to shred
s on the run. I'd been too pumped to notice but now every step made me wince.

  "Lean on me," Jack said.

  I shook my head.

  "Don't be stupid, you can't walk."

  He put his arm around me and supported my weight. I tried not to limp but, with each step, the pain got worse.

  "You should take your shoes off," he said.

  "You're kidding. Who knows what's on the ground? Broken glass. Syringes."

  "True," he said then swept me into his arms.

  I wanted to protest and make him put me down but it was the only way to get home. I kept my body stiff and resisted the urge to sink into him and lean my head against his chest. I held my breath so his scent didn’t disarm me.

  "You're a lot heavier than you look," he said.

  "I can walk." I struggled to get out of his arms but he gripped me tighter.

  "It's okay, I skipped my workout today."

  Then we got back to the main street and he put me down for a rest.

  "I can walk home from here," I said. My place was only a block away.

  He hesitated and looked at me as if he wanted to say something but held back. Was he expecting me to invite him back?

  The silence between us stretched out uncomfortably but I couldn’t say those words. The gates had come down, the steel wall erected. And, even if I wanted to invite him home, the thought of my crummy flat stopped me. He'd thought it looked bad from the outside, what would he think if could see the inside? It was one thing for him to believe I was a rich princess who was playing at this but if he knew the truth, if my image of being that perfect princess shattered, what would happen then?

  Chapter 13

  "We've got the CDs? Please tell me we have the CDs. I can't remember putting the box in the cab."

  "Take a deep breath. I've got them right here." Angie nudged me in reassurance. Kind of like a pat on the arm when your arms are stacked full of boxes.

  "Great. I'm sure we've forgotten something. We do have all the boxes?"

  "There's still another load outside. That damn cab driver coulda helped us carry them in, lousy bastard. Hopefully no one will steal them."

  I put the boxes down and sighed.

  "They stole our tree frog costumes from around here, remember. If they'll steal those, they'll steal anything."

  We looked at each other then ran outside to grab the rest of the boxes.

  "That's 500 CDs plus all the t-shirts and posters? Are you sure that's not too much stuff? This is all my money invested in merchandise. If we don't sell anything, I'm ruined. And I'll be wearing Storm t-shirts for the rest of my life."

  "Relax. I told you, we have to look like we mean business. We can't have a shit stall with nothing on it. No one's going to touch that shit. And I've talked a few friends into coming along. Plus, check out these t-shirts."

  Angie opened one of the boxes and pulled a t-shirt out.

  "Sexy t-shirt is totally sexy! Eric is a genius. The design is amayonaising. You wouldn't even need to be into Storm to want one of these."

  She ripped off the t-shirt she wore and stood in just her black lace bra. Did I mention that the foyer had plate glass windows that anyone on the street could look through?

  "Angie!"

  She slipped the t-shirt over her head.

  "It's okay, Hannah. It's not like I'm showing anything, no worse than wearing a bikini at the beach."

  That might be true but it seemed indecent. You could see her nipples through that bra.

  "And don't stress. If we sell 200 t-shirts, we break even. Anything over that is pure profit."

  "That sounds like a lot of t-shirts to me. Where do we set them up? What do we do here? I have no experience at this kind of thing."

  All thought of being a shitty manager and getting out of this contract had emptied out of my head. I could not fail at this. Not something this big and public.

  "Ah, there you are." Sleazy Jason came through a side door, his booming voice echoing around the empty room. "You can stack all that in there."

  He nodded toward a door, obviously a store cupboard or something. We hauled the boxes over while Jason watched and nodded his head. I'm all for women's equality and that kind of thing, but what was with these guys letting us do all the heavy lifting?

  "Okay, what now?"

  "Is the band ready to sound check? They only have a small window of time before the next band needs to use the stage, so if they don't get here soon, they'll miss out."

  I had no idea where they were.

  "Give Jack a call," said Angie. "It'll screw things up if they don't sound check."

  "I don't want to." Okay, that might have sounded a bit whiny.

  Angie gave me a searching look. I wasn't about to tell her anything though.

  Luckily we were interrupted by a knock on the glass. Eric waved at us and I pointed to the unlocked side door.

  "You guys set them up," I said. "I need the bathroom."

  I really did not want to see Jack Colt even though my pulse raced and all the colours around me seemed more vivid. That was just nerves, not excitement about him being so close.

  I didn't want to think about him. About that. About Jack Colt and that kiss.

  I hadn't been able to get it out of my head though. I should never let him kiss me. I should never have returned his kiss.

  But, when his lips pressed against mine, my brain stopped working and the world contracted into a tiny circle that was just him and me and the sensations of our bodies moving together.

  I'd not heard from him since and I couldn't call him. I just couldn't.

  When I got out of the bathroom, the sounds of them tuning their gear filled the main room. Angie jumped around, all excited.

  "I get to watch them sound check. This is the coolest thing ever. I never hoped to do anything this cool. I'm going to take some photos to post on the blog. And we get to hang out with them afterwards, right? Ah, my life is so sweet."

  I laughed at her.

  "Everything ready for tonight?" Sleazeball Jason appeared beside me. "Now, remember, on stage at 9 o'clock exactly and off at 9.45. The band gets two free drinks each and they have to be out of the back room by 10.45. You can set up your stuff for sale out the front just before the doors open. We don't get that good a crowd in on a Tuesday night normally, so if they drag some people in, who knows in future."

  After the sound check, we waited for the guys to pack up their gear. The next band waited to hit the stage – three hulking guys and a tiny chick with piercings and tattoos and her hair dyed various shades of pink. She huddled in a big fake fur coat of neon pink on one of the guitar cases playing with her phone, oblivious to everything.

  Jack Colt kept glancing over at her. She didn't pay him any attention though, just kept on playing Candy Crush Saga or whatever it was she was doing. A lump of big horrible stuff bounced around my stomach as I watched at him looking at her. Of course, she was the kind of girl he liked. She looked all alternative and dirty. The kind of girl who would not even hesitate to take him back to her apartment.

  The guy that was with them, the older guy who wore a leather jacket but didn't wear it well, and the jeans that seemed a little bit too dark and a little bit too short, walked up to Jason and they high-fived each other.

  "How you going, bro?" he asked.

  They walked off, chatting and laughing. Is that how a manager was supposed to act? I wondered if I should watch him and take notes but, no matter what, I would not stoop to dressing so badly. I'd not stoop to being all buddy-buddy with that sleazeball either. When Storm became hugely famous, I'd never have to deal with shits like him again. I'd be laying down the terms. Lear jets, cases of champagne backstage and money. Lots of lovely money.

  Angie nudged me.

  "The guys are going to get something to eat, come on."

  If my belly had felt upended watching Jack look at that clown girl, it totally took a nosedive now. What would I say to him? How would I react? I didn't want anyone knowing
what had happened the other night. It didn't mean anything anyway. It was just a few too many beers and then the adrenalin rush from racing through the streets. I'd look like a fool if I took it to mean anything more than that.

  As we walked down the street, Angie and I lagged behind while she jumped around. For her, this was the greatest day ever. For me, I had too many emotions and too many head-things to deal with. But it was good just to enjoy her excitement.

  "A burger joint? This is the glamorous rock star life?" Angie asked.

  "Sure is," said Eric. "Nothing like a burger before a gig."

  We settled into a booth. Jack avoided my eyes. I avoided his. Well, I tried to, when I wasn't checking to see if he was still avoiding mine. I wondered if he hated me or if he had just been playing around the other night and had forgotten all about it. I figured he'd probably be picking up another chick tonight. Probably that singer chick from the way he’d looked at her.

  When the food came out, he picked at it, moving the food around his plate.

  "Don't you want that?" asked Spud and grabbed for Jack's burger.

  "Nah, you have it."

  "Are you nervous?" asked Eric.

  I looked at Jack again. He laughed.

  "As if. I'm just not hungry."

  "You guys are going to rock tonight. It's going to be the greatest gig ever. I've got a few people coming along. Everyone wants to support you."

  "How many people?" Eric asked. "I've had nightmares that we'd be playing to an empty room. I mean, who comes out on a Tuesday night? Especially to see the opening band? No one bothers going to see the opening band."

  Jack tapped his fingers on the table. As much as he said he wasn't nervous, he couldn't hide it. He seemed full of energy, like a wound up spring. That was good, I guess. He needed all this energy when he got on stage.

  I tried to swallow a bite of my burger but it became a dry, tasteless lump in my mouth.

  In the end, Spud wolfed down my burger too.

  "You'll be sick, playing drums after eating all that," said Angie.

  "No way. I enjoy a good feed."