“That’s really great D, but I want to go to sleep. Stroke yourself and go to bed too, okay? I’m sure we have lots of things to do tomorrow,” I suggest nicely, turning my gaze up to stare at the ceiling. I can’t look down at him. It’s just gross. I could scream or make a scene but I don’t want to wake the rest of the men up. I will just have to deal with the perv alone.
“I’d like to do you tomorrow. You’re feisty and hot. Why don’t you come down here and let me show you what I can do with my cock.”
“I’d rather not.”
The bedroom door beside me slams open and I turn my head and find myself staring at Johnathan again and he’s still in his boxers and headed towards the bathroom. I don’t say a word to him. He enters the bathroom and a second later sticks his head out.
“What’s going on here D?” he chastises his band mate, peering down at his hand tightly locked around my angle.
“Nothing. Just about to go to sleep,” Deacon answers quickly.
Yup, he’s guilty. We all know it.
Johnathan steps out of the bathroom and walks towards us. D still won’t let go of my ankle. It’s like he’s glued to me.
“Yeah right D,” he scolds again.
“Is he trying to get you into bed?” he asks me. I don’t say a word. I don’t need more shit tonight, especially from him.
“See, we’re fine here, aren’t we sweetie?” D says, his tone fogged with lust.
“Her name is Emily.” He shoots him a wicked glance.
“And is everything alright here, Short Stack?” he asks kindly, looking at my face, his eyes soft; it’s like I’m seeing a totally different person. But I freeze and bite my lower lip, confused on what to do.
“Listen, Short Stack, I promise not to be a dick. Just tell me if everything is okay,” He adds. I look down at D and back up at Johnathan.
“I want to go to bed, that’s all I want to do,” I murmur, as my teeth begin to saw on my bottom lip.
“Will D let you go to bed?” he asks me and I shake my head.
“Listen up fucker. She’s an employee now so you let her leg go and find a different women to fuck. She’s not going to suck you off or let you between her legs. She’s obviously not like that. So you leave her alone or I will be sleeping in bed next to you until this entire tour is over. Kapish?” he spits out. It’s harsh but not rude. I’m just glad I didn’t have to make a scene and he saved me. The misogynist actually helped me. Talk about a mind-fuck.
“Fine,” Deacon mutters out of clinched teeth, released me and throws the curtains back over for privacy.
“Thanks,” I say and without thinking, reach over and touch his arm to show my appreciation. He flinches and steps back; like I just burned him. Weird.
“Yep, gotta go take a piss. Night Em,” he states, turns and dashes back into the bathroom. I climb back up into my bed and its lights out. Nighty night.
Chapter Five
Man, it’s noisy. Nothing like waking up to the sound of guitars strumming and a shitload of men trying to talk over one another. The bus is moving. I can feel it. I lean up in my bunk. Shit, I must have been tired because if all those rockers are already awake it must be late. I throw back my privacy curtain and sit up, my legs dangling over the edge. Looking over the lip of the bed it looks like a long way down to the ground even though I know it’s not. I slide out and thump onto the floor. Being so short sucks.
I turn and there are five sets of eyes staring at me. What? Do I look that hideous when I get out of bed? I pivot towards the bathroom go in locking the door this time and take a long pee. Thank god I don’t have a hangover. I drank quite a bit last night. But thanks to my Irish blood I have one hell of an alcohol tolerance. Not sure if that is a good thing or not. But it’s worked for me thus far.
Viewing myself in the small mirror above the sink, I tuck my hair behind my ears and wash my face and hands. I refuse to use the hand towel to dry my face so I use my shirt instead. I’m sure it’s more sanitary. I’d hate to know how long it’s been since that hand towel has been washed, and I am quite certain it has multiple men’s semen adorning it somewhere. I’ve never had a man’s sperm on my face and I am not about to start now.
I exit the bathroom and go to join the crew in the living area. Where it’s much quieter now.
“Did we wake you?” Keith asks. Even in the morning without a shower he looks fabulous. I wish I was that lucky.
“No not really. I needed to get up anyhow. I told you all I am not going to care if you are loud or having sex. I handled it last night fine. Don’t worry, I’m not fragile.” I shoot them a collective genuine smile.
I swear they were all holding their breaths at the same time because I heard a simultaneous sigh come out of every man’s mouth.
I open the fridge and frown. The only thing in there is cold pizza, beer and milk. I open the cupboard and find a crap load of sweets and protein powder. Not a box of cereal or a granola bar in sight. I am going to have to go shopping in Tucson to stock up. I can’t live on beer. Stacy comes over to me as I’m rummaging through the cupboards. I need coffee.
“Can I talk to you?” He leans in and whispers in my ear. I nod.
The men all start their music session again and I follow Stacy towards the back of the bus where we stand in front of the bathroom door.
“What’s up?”
“Apparently Johnathan isn’t mad anymore. He said you two talked and it’s cool. I am so happy you don’t have to leave us. Like I said last night, I know he’s hard to get along with, but if you do it’ll be easier on us both.”
“Okay.” I clasp my hand over his shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze.
“You’re so wonderful, Em.” He snatches me up into a big hug. “I hope you know how much I love you Annie.”
“You know I hate when you call me that.” I pinch his arm.
Annie is a nickname I’ve had since I was in school. Some lame girl I don’t even remember the name of gave it to me. And it wasn’t given out of love, she was mad that Stacy and I are such good friends. She wanted to date him and thought I was preventing that. It’s not like I could ever prevent Stacy from doing anything. He’s an independent man. The name cycled around school and stuck. I got lucky enough for it not to follow me to college. Although at times Stacy still brings it up to tease me. Which I hate. But I love him a lot so I tolerate it.
I sneak into the bathroom and change into something less PJ-like that fits my style. A dress. I love dresses. I can’t get enough of them. Skirts, dresses, you name it, I love it. Jeans I wear if I have to but only if I have to. I also can never get enough of high heels. Not hooker ones but classy ones. I have fifty pairs back in my apartment in New York City. If it wasn’t for this job and my wonderful roommate Joe and his girlfriend Cara I couldn’t live where we do in New York. I rent a three-bedroom sublet condo. But it’s fabulous and close to just about everything. We have a grocery a half a block down, a coffee shop one block and the subway is two blocks. Convenient and well decorated, thanks to my fantastic fashion sense. I found the condo on my own when I was still attending NYU and I landed a job quickly upon graduation and sublet the place. Couldn’t afford it on my own for long so I found Joe, a buddy from work and his modern dance girlfriend Cara. So we split the rent three ways. Joe’s like my brother I never had and we kind of look alike. With our matching red hair and pale skin. But he has freckles and I don’t. Cara is amazing too but I think I make her nervous. Not sure why but if I had to guess I’d say she thinks Joe’s and I’s friendship is more than that. But it’s not and never could be. Stacy hates that I live with Joe. Well I think it’s mutual because they have met I think twice maybe three times and talked on the phone a couple of times. But for one reason or another they can’t stand each other. Jealousy? Maybe. Even though I can never understand why.
I return to the living room and slide my belongings back into my suitcase. Searching for a clock and find the time on the stove. Holy shit, I was right. I did sleep in a long time today. I
t’s three already and I’m starving.
“So boys did you already eat?” I ask, interrupting some sort of conversation.
“No, we’re almost to Tucson so we can grab a bite there,” Stacy replies.
I nod and return back to my bunk, leaving the men to themselves. I had slid my Nook into the pocket on the inside of my bunk. I don’t think I could function without that thing. I read all the time. On average, two books a week, maybe three if I’m not super busy. I wish I could read more but unfortunately my time doesn’t allow for it. I’m nearly finished with Fifty Shades Freed. I know reading a romance BDSM book isn’t the smartest when you’re sleeping in a bus full of horny men, but I gotta get my lovin’ from somewhere. My guess as to why I am so content with being single and not screwing around is because I get to live vicariously through my books. Not that I think that’s healthy or anything, but after what happened with Chris and the other bad thing that happened when I was small with my uncle. That only my mom and Stacy know about. Kind of leaves me shut out and I know my books can’t break my heart, beat me, cheat on me or molest me.
***
I somehow find myself awakened by Stacy when we arrive to the hotel we are staying in for three days. I must have fallen back asleep on the bus.
“Get up sleepyhead, we’re here,” he says, nudging me with his hand.
I sit up, hop down out of the bunk and go to collect my things but I can’t find them.
“Where’s my clothes Stacy? You didn’t throw them out, did you?” I scold him, pointing my finger to where I left my bag.
“Well the ones I thought were okay I had one of the bellboys take up to your hotel room, but yes I did throw some of them out.” He smiles nervously, running his hand through his unruly blonde hair.
“You did what!” I shriek.
“You can’t be on this tour for twelve more weeks and have those kinds of clothes. They aren’t suitable for this kind of gig.”
“I will wear what I want, you pompous fucker,” I chastise, shaking my finger at him.
“Not here you can’t. We have an image to uphold. You should know all about that being, in the PR business. You’re part of a team and the team doesn’t dress in foo-foo dresses and pantsuits. It doesn’t work.”
I want to scream and run away. I love my clothes! I packed what I thought was sensible for a sensible businesswoman. Not for a roadie bitch with crotchless panties and micro miniskirts. Stacy wants me to be reasonable but he sucks all the reason out of it.
“Please tell me you didn’t throw out my heels or my blue leather skirt.”
“No, those are some things I think are okay to wear. But I did throw out all the dresses except the tight black one and I tossed the tennis shoes and all those nasty granny panties. Seriously Em, you’re twenty-four, not sixty-four. Wear panties like women your age not your grandmas.”
What the hell does he know? He gets to strut around in boxers. Which are basically shorts to wear under your pants. Those are meant to be comfortable. G-strings are not! I’ve tried them. My panties are not granny. Well I don’t think they are. They’re white briefs and come in a pack of six straight from Fruit of the Loom.
I’m on fire on the inside. I’m so pissed at him. For being my best friend he sure as hell sucks at it sometimes.
“First off, Stacy, they’re underwear, what does it matter what kind I wear? This is about fashion. Those are not going to be seen. I don’t think it should matter if they are granny or not. I like them because they are cotton and comfortable,” I smart off, tapping my bare foot on the ground.
“Yeah, but I’ll know you’re wearing them and that’s not sexy. You’re beautiful Em. You need to wear panties that showcase that.”
“Why does it matter if you think I’m sexy or not? Nobody is going to be near my panties, Stacy.”
“But maybe they will. Maybe one day you you’ll find a man to share your bed again. And trust me you don’t want him taking those things off your body. That’s just embarrassing.”
“I don’t want to sleep with anyone Stacy—you know that. So no one will be sharing my bed. I can promise you that! And you’re telling me if you were attracted to a woman and found her wearing those kinds of panties you’d be turned off?” I raise an eyebrow. Yep I asked that, jerk-wad.
“I’d have to love a woman for a long time to be okay with her wearing panties like that. So yes if I just met a woman and I went to fuck her and she wore those monstrosities I would go limp.” He nods with attitude.
“Well, it’s nice to know where we stand, BEST FRIEND.” I stalk past him and just as I’m about to go out of the bus I find Johnathan standing on the second to bottom step in my way.
I stop and stare right at him, locking my green eyes with his and the guilty look on his face says it all. He’s been listening to our entire conversation. Son of a bitch!
“Well ass-wipe, I hope you enjoyed the show. Now get the hell out of my way.” He hesitantly backs down the stairs and lets me pass. I run in my flip-flops and my only flowery dress left into the hotel Chaderella and find Keith standing in the lobby wearing his usual plain shirt and jean shorts with leather flip-flops.
Tears are pouring down my cheeks. I am seriously an emotional mess. The past two days have been terrible. Between the shit with Johnathan and D and now the whole panties thing, I can’t help but breakdown. Keith turns around and sees me crying. Within a second he’s got me wrapped tightly in his arms, his hand caressing my back. God, he feels so good and warm and loving. I’m never touched by men. Stacy yes, but that doesn’t count.
“What’s wrong, Em?” he asks; his voice is so warm and sweet. I wrap my arms around him tighter and when I look over I see both assholes walking into the hotel together, chatting like nothing happened. I hide my face into Keith’s chest and my sobbing kicks up a notch. He keeps caressing my back; his hands are rough yet sensual. We are standing in view of the public and I’m having a meltdown. But he doesn’t seem to mind.
“What happened, guys?” I hear him ask the assholes.
“I said something to her that she didn’t like and it’s the damn truth. Johnathan overheard us.”
I want to haul off and scream bloody murder at him. But I can’t do it. I’m more hurt now than I am anything else. Stacy seriously just told me he thought I was beautiful but that my panties turn him off. Not that I need him to be turned on by me. But that is a total punch in the self-esteem. Mine is bad enough as it is. I don’t need him telling me I turn him off too.
“What happened?” Keith asks and pulls me off of him once they leave so I can see him face-to-face.
“When I was sleeping, Stacy threw out most of my clothes, told me that they don’t fit the band’s image and then says that my underwear are granny panties. So he threw them out too because they are a turn off.”
“Seriously?” he cocks his eyebrow. Wow, he is so fine. I wipe my cheeks and nod.
Keith shows me up to my room and leaves me at the door. I shut it with a good-bye. Holy shit, my room is huge. This is so not a standard room. It’s a freaking suite. Why in the world would I need a suite? I sleep in a bunk and now I am upgraded to this? That makes no sense.
I walk into the bathroom and thank the heavens it has a tub. I need an actual bath. Yep, soaking in my own filth for a while with some bath salts should do me some good. I find my bag, which is completely gutted and find I have like two outfits left and all my heels. Plus I have zero panties to wear except the ones I have on and I am definitely not going to put those back on. I might be desperate but I’m not that desperate.
I find my iPod and my ear-buds in the zipper pocket and take them with me into the bathroom. I turn on the water and acclimate the temperature to my liking. Hot and steamy to make my legs nice and red. This lovely hoity-toity hotel has complimentary bath salts. I toss them into the tub, letting them dissolve while I undress.
Dripping into the tantalizingly hot tub, I lay my iPod on a towel and put in my hot pink ear-buds. My music collecti
on is extensive. I love most kinds of music, Rap, R&B, Fifties, Sixties, Seventies and Eighties, Hard Rock, Boy bands, Alternative Rock, Country. You name it, I probably love some music group or musician from it. When I was younger I loved N-Sync, Keith Sweat, Brian McKnight, Guns N Roses and a shit ton of others. I still love them all and even more. Including the band I am now working for, Stricken, the hottest or one of the top five hottest in the world.
I’m going to be stuck for three more weeks of touring. I will get a short break for a week and then I am back on the road with them another eight weeks. Not that I have much to go back to. Joe, I am sure is fine with me being away. My dad still drives truck so he’s rarely home and my mom now works full-time as a nurse. Not sure where I’ll go or what I will do when I get our break but maybe I’ll go with Stacy to visit his mom. I know she’s sick and I know he’s probably going to need a hand to hold through this terrible time in his life. With being divorced twice and no kids. All he really has is me and the band. I can’t think of many other friends he has. His work is his life and I’m the only other person that fills the extra space in-between. Most of which is talking on the phone or Skyping.
God, this hot water feels wonderful. I can’t help but relish in it. I have so needed this since last night. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, relaxing it on the rim of the tub. Oh, this is the life. I am jamming to some Christiana Aguilera, the early stuff and I feel weird, like I am being watched. My hair on my body is standing up and I haven’t a clue why. I open my eyes and my heart just about explodes in my chest.
“Oh my god! What the hell are you doing in here? JOHNATHAN!” I screech. Sitting up like a slingshot, I throw my ear-buds off the side of the tub and cover my privates with my hands.
“So… sorry,” he mutters. His face is in pure shock, and so is mine. He turns around, leaving his back to face me.
“Hey Em, Your door was open. I wasn’t sure…” I hear Stacy say and he comes into the bathroom too. Now it’s a damn threesome. His eyes widen and anger pierces his gaze once he sees Johnathan standing there.
Stricken Rock Series: Complete Box Set Page 4
