by Amiee Louise
“Rubes, talk to me, babe.”
Her eyes glaze over as if she wants to say more, but she swallows a large gulp of wine.
“It’s nothing, honey. Honestly, please don’t worry about me, just go and enjoy your date.”
She smiles, and I hesitantly grab my bag.
“I don’t want to leave you this way, babe.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Just go now, or I’ll drag you out of the door myself!”
We both laugh.
“Give him one for me!” she says with a wink.
I kiss her on the cheek and reluctantly hug her goodbye. In the underground garage, I unlock my car and get in. It is good to be back behind the wheel. I start the engine, and she roars to life straight away. I crank up the stereo for my daily dose of rock, opting to listen to a Rancid Vengeance album called Carpe Nocturne that I downloaded and drive the thirty-five-minute journey to my date. All too soon, I am pulling into the car park, getting out, and going to the stage door of the o2 arena in London. I go to the front of the queue, and a bunch of girls are giving me dirty looks and whispering to each other. The large burly security guard looks me up and down.
“Let me guess. You’re here to see one of the guys? Nice try, sweetheart.”
I frown, and he rolls his eyes as if he has heard that so many times before. I clear my throat.
“Actually, I’m here to see Sam, my name’s on the guest list if you wouldn’t mind checking, please?”
I flutter my eyelashes and put on my sweetest voice.
“Name, please?”
He looks bored, and I look up at his large frame.
“Peyton Harper.”
He checks his clipboard and clears his throat.
He smiles warmly and nods. “Apologies, darlin’, these girls will do anything to meet the guys, but Sam’s expecting you.”
“Thank you.”
He lets me through the door, and the other girls at the door are left dumbstruck as I wander through the brightly lit corridor. There is a hustle and bustle of roadies setting up and carrying equipment down the wide corridor. I text Sam quickly.
I’m here, wandering the corridors looking for you
P x
Suddenly, I collide with a tall, lean figure. I look up, and my smile fades as I see who I have bumped into. J.D, of all people. His all-too-bright white smile is creepy and reminds me all over again why I instantly took a dislike to him. In fact, I think I hate him.
“Ahh, Peyton, my love, how nice to see you.”
As he emphasises the word nice, I know he is being sarcastic, and he is less than thrilled to see me. But guess what, buddy, the feeling is mutual.
“I heard all about your shenanigans with lover boy last night, my darling, in great depth. I told him you’re no good for him, but he seems to think he’s fallen for you. I’ve warned him it will end in tears, but I’m pretty sure those tears won’t be his by the time I’ve finished, sweetheart.”
He grabs my arm.
“I’ve told you before you don’t fucking scare me, J.D. What the hell is wrong with you? What is your fucking problem?”
He leans in close, and I can smell the scent of his too-strong Hugo Boss aftershave mixed with alcohol. He is about to say something else when someone clears their throat behind him.
“Johnnie, I’ve told you to leave her alone,” Sam says sternly, and I snatch my arm away from J.D’s grip.
I turn to look at Sam, and he is looking especially sexy tonight. He is wearing tight, black-leather trousers that emphasise his impressive package, black cowboy boots, and a tight, black, Rancid Vengeance vest defining his muscled and tattooed arms. His hair is a messy spiky style, and he is wearing black eyeliner. Sam puts his hand at the small of my back, and before he leads me down the corridor, J.D leans into my ear and whispers so only I can hear him.
“Just remember this; Sam won’t always come to your rescue, sweetheart.”
He winks, and Sam leads me off down the corridor. He opens the door to the dressing room which is empty and unusually tidy and definitely not what I would expect from four male rock stars—I was expecting beer and groupies. “Where are the other guys?”
Before he answers, he backs me against the wall and claims my lips with his. He pulls away and looks deep into my eyes.
“I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he whispers in a voice that instantly makes me bite my lip. “It’s taken all my willpower not to just show up at the shop. I can’t seem to stay away from you, you’re like an addiction.”
I reach up and stroke his freshly-shaven face.
“I’m so sorry about last night, Sam. I truly am.”
He pulls away and pulls a chair out from the dressing room table. When he sits down, I sit down on the sofa opposite him, and our eyes lock. It is taking all my strength not to sink down to my knees and take his length in my mouth. He smirks.
“Having those naughty thoughts again, babe?”
I laugh. “You have no fucking idea.”
“Oh, I think I do. I’ve been having the same thoughts all fucking day, and I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything else.”
Without much thought, I bite my lip.
“Don’t bite your lip, please, or I will take you right now on this floor and we can’t because we need to talk, and I need to be on stage in an hour,” he rasps, and we both laugh.
“So … what happened last night? I wanted you to talk to me, but you were pretty God damn adamant you wanted me to leave.”
I pause and swallow back the lump that’s forming in my throat.
“It’s complicated. Fuck, I’m complicated.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not an answer, Peyton. I need to understand what’s going on in your head. I have fallen so hard for you. I want you so fucking bad it physically hurts. I couldn’t sleep last night because I was terrified that I’d lost the only good thing to happen in my life in a really long time.”
Shaking my head, I tell him, “I’ve fallen hard for you too, Sam, really fucking hard. I can’t deal with how strong my feelings are in such a short space of time. My feelings for you consume me.” Taking a deep breath, I let it out with a sigh. “Callum hurt me so badly he had me convinced that no other man would want to be with me, that I was somehow damaged goods. After we split, all I did for the first few weeks was cry and blame myself, then Ruby practically dragged me out of the flat and convinced me I needed to move on. So I moved on, or should I say moved under another man, or numerous men, just to get him out of my system. How fucked up does that make me?” I laugh bitterly at the thought. “I turned into everything I despise and vowed I’d never be. It took a long time for me to come to terms with that and the fact that I’d probably never be that blissfully happy ever again and then you walked into the shop.”
He smiles and moves to the sofa next to me. He subconsciously strokes my arm willing me to continue.
“You walked into the shop and into my life. It was like my whole world was in HD again.”
We both laugh before I begin to speak.
“I know it sounds cheesy, but as soon as I saw you, I knew.”
He strokes my face, and I lean into his hand.
“Fuck,” he curses.
“When I saw those photos last night, I didn’t blame you; I wanted you to sit down with me and talk it out. I definitely didn’t want you to kick me out—fuck. Do you know what I did after I left? I called Jax, and we went to the nearest bar and got absolutely shit-faced. I ended up blurting everything out to him.”
I nod.
“I blurted out everything to him, and he understood. I was a mess after I left, an absolute mess and he talked me down. It took a lot of fucking vodka to convince me not to call you or just turn up on your doorstep. He confiscated my phone and took me back to the hotel where we’re staying, put me to bed, and then went off with some groupie from the hotel bar!”
We both laugh. However, I look at him puzzled.
“Wait, Ruby said that she
had sex with Jax in the restaurant toilet.”
Sam’s eyes widen, and he is about to say something when the door swings open. The other three band member’s walk in all dressed in their stage attire.
“Did she? I think that might be news to Jax, babe.”
Jax looks at me with a smile. “Hey, Peyton!”
Jax slumps heavily down on the sofa next to me, and I know that our conversation is over.
“What’s news to me, dude?”
“That you shagged Ruby in the restaurant toilet.”
Jax laughs hysterically.
“Did I? Wow, that must have really escaped my attention. No, she got a phone call, and she started acting weird. Then she just left abruptly. I’ve been calling her all fucking day, but she won’t answer my calls or my texts.”
I frown. It isn’t like Ruby to lie to me. She is usually so honest, and we tell each other everything. Why would she lie? What could possibly be so bad that she feels the need to keep it to herself?
“I’m sure she has a logical explanation.” I try to stand up for her.
“She sucked me off under the table in the restaurant. Jesus, that girl could suck start a leaf blower! We were in the toilet about to fuck, but she got the call, and before I could protest she ran off like someone had lit a fire under her cute little arse.” Jax smiles and shakes his head at the same time. “Fucking women!”
He rolls his eyes, and a tall, slim woman walks in with Latino features. Long waves of caramel-coloured hair flow around her face and shoulders like a halo; she has dark brown eyes and the most amazing cheekbones I have ever seen. She smiles brightly as she sees me.
“This must be the famous Peyton I’ve been hearing about all day,” she says in accented English. Sam stands up and pulls me to my feet.
“Peyton, this is Blu, she is our make-up artist and stylist,” he introduces her fondly. I smile, and she air kisses me on both cheeks. Very European.
“I’m so happy to meet you, Peyton; Sam’s told me all about you.”
I nod and raise my eyebrows at Sam.
“All good, I hope?”
She laughs. “Of course all good, my darling. He hasn’t stopped talking about you all day.”
Sam pushes her playfully. “All right, babe, I’ve got a reputation to keep up, you know!”
She laughs and flicks her hair over her shoulder. A sure fire sign of flirting, automatically making me think that she and Sam have a romantic history. I dismiss the thought and suddenly feel out of place in a room full of rock stars and their entourage. Sam grabs my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.
“Come on; let me give you the backstage tour,” he says excitedly and leads me out of the dressing room.
Brody shouts from sitting on top of the dressing table, “Wa-hey! We all know what our Sammy’s backstage tour consists of!”
All the guys shout and cheer as we leave.
“I’m really sorry about that, please just ignore them, babe.”
I smile and can’t help but worry about Ruby. I vow to call her as soon as the gig is over. Two men are in the corridor carrying a drum set between them. One is bald, one has long black hair, and they both wear a Rancid Vengeance vest.
“Peyton, these two are our roadies, Donovan and Caleb.”
They both put the drum sets down with ease and grin.
“Pleased to meet you, Peyton, I’m Donovan.” The man with the long black hair reaches for my hand and shakes it.
“I’m Caleb.”
Caleb shakes my hand, and Donovan shoves him out of the way. They playfully grab and shove each other. Sam rolls his eyes.
“Don’t worry, they’re always like that, they’re brothers.”
I nod and smile. I am overwhelmed at meeting new people and being thrust into the world of Rancid Vengeance.
10
Peyton
The backstage area of the venue is bustling with people wandering around, and I am in awe of the way Sam handles himself around the people close to him. His bandmates and the people who work for him. He seems so confident and so at ease with the idea of fame. He handles the female and press attention like a second nature, as if it is all he knows.
When we get to the side of the stage, all I see is a sea of people chanting, “Vengeance, Vengeance, Vengeance.”
I look up at him and smile. He pulls me into him, and I feel his erection digging into my thigh.
“That’s what you do to me, baby; I have no idea how I’m going to get through the show with a raging stonk on!”
When our mutual laughter dies down, he leans down, and his lips claim mine as his. Every time he kisses me, it’s as if he needs me to breathe. I hear a noise and pull away from him. I look over his shoulder, startled.
“What was that?”
Sam smiles and strokes my face.
“You worry too much, babe. Just relax, I’ve got you,” he whispers and reassures me. He brushes his finger across my bottom lip tenderly. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you, Peyton, I promise.”
He gazes into my eyes and leans down to kiss me passionately on the lips. His tongue slowly caressing mine and claiming me as his—his one and only. I reach down and stroke his growing erection through his tight jeans.
He thrusts his pelvis against me and whispers against my lips, “Baby, please not here, I want it to be more than just a knee trembler in a dark corner. It’s not about just sex with you. You’re not like the others, you’re special.”
I smile mischievously and carry on stroking him, his erection bulging through the material of his tight trousers.
“Something about you makes me feel bold and invincible.”
He smiles and gently moves my hand from his crotch. To soothe the rejection, he lifts my hand to his lips and plants a kiss on the back.
“You’re all I’m going to be thinking about when I’m up on that stage, counting down the minutes and the seconds until I can be inside you,” he whispers in his familiar husky voice, and I feel the ache between my legs. I’m not sure whether I am in the presence of Sam or Bolt. I feel his phone vibrate against my thigh.
“Shit.”
I laugh, and he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
“Babe, I need to go, J.D’s called an emergency pre-show meeting.” He rolls his eyes and smiles. A young woman passes us in the corridor and Sam whistles.
“Hey, Willow, would you mind looking after Peyton for me please, babe?”
She smiles warmly, and I instantly like her.
“Yeah, sure, bro, no problem, but it’s going to cost ya!”
He laughs and pulls her in for a big bear hug.
“Cheeky! Thanks, sis, I owe you.”
Pulling away from Willow, he winks at me and whispers, “Keep thinking those thoughts.”
He kisses me on lips before he runs off down the corridor leaving me with Willow. She is average height, slim with black hair short on the one side and long on the other. She has Sam’s green eyes and a warm smile. She is wearing a tight red t-shirt that says ‘I’m with the band’ on the front, denim skirt, and knee-high Doc Martens—a girl after my own heart.
She offers me her hand. “I’m Willow, Sam’s little sister.”
“Peyton”
We smile at each other infectiously.
“So, are you Sam’s new girlfriend?” she asks, and I nod.
A nervous laugh bubbles up from somewhere deep inside of me. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
“Great! Come on, we can go and watch the show together,” she says brightly, linking her arm with mine and dragging me down the corridor. We both flash our backstage passes to the waiting security guard, get into the concert venue, and wade through the crowd and to the front row at the side of the stage.
“So, how long have you and Sam been together?”
I pause. “We only met yesterday.”
She nods inquisitively. “OK, where did you meet?”
“At the tattoo shop where I work, I’m a tattoo artist.”
Her f
ace lights up. “Oh, my God, that’s so cool.”
“Thanks, I think so. I work at Saint Sinner Ink.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, my fucking God. You work for Seb Henry? I love that guy, that tattoo show he did was amazing.”
I can’t help but laugh. Seb did a reality tattoo show on one of the cable channels a few years ago. It got the shop a lot of publicity, recognition for his work, and a lot of custom for the shop. Because of that, the shop is booked up months in advance, and we work by appointment only. Seb is quite a celebrity in his own right.
