Punk Rock Resurrection

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Punk Rock Resurrection Page 10

by Jenna Galicki

  Angel nodded. “If he pushed himself a little harder, he’d excel, and that’s exactly what we need to propel this band to the next level – a killer guitar player.” He shrugged. “So far, Karl’s the best I’ve come across. It’s a shame he doesn’t get more involved, though. He could have brought his girlfriend today, and they could be sharing this meal with us right now.”

  “What about you? No . . . date?” She knew he was gay, but didn’t know if it was proper etiquette to talk about it openly, since she really didn’t know him that well yet. Her inner voice screamed with laugher. Since when the fuck did she care about etiquette? “No boyfriend, Angel?”

  “No. I’ve been in a few committed relationships, but they didn’t pan out. Right now, I’m very happy bouncing from guy to guy.”

  “I can see that.” He was surrounded by men at every show.

  Angel’s voice and expression took on a melancholy note. “I’m having fun, but deep down I’m an old-fashioned guy. I’d love to come home to a steady man every night. Someone I could cook for and lavish with attention.” He placed the palm of his hand over his heart. “I’m a hopeless romantic.”

  Jimmy chuckled. “Man, you don’t act like that when you’re humping the mic stand on stage.”

  “Something happens to me when I get in front of a crowd with the microphone in my hand.” His face lit up with animation. “The blood runs through my body like electricity.”

  The differences between Angel’s stage persona and his everyday personality were vast. On stage, he was flashy and in-your-face. He dripped raw sex appeal and confidence. Off stage, he was just a regular guy. He was sweet and kindhearted and smart, with a strong hold on family values. He still had a charismatic charm and smooth vocabulary, and his good looks literally made you stop and stare.

  Alyssa’s eyes shifted to Jimmy. “What about you?”

  His eyes flashed, and a smile spanned his cheeks. “I love the ladies – all of them – but the drums are my number one priority.”

  He was naturally flirtatious. It was his smile and the dimple in his cheek that held a woman’s gaze. His fingers constantly tapped on the table, on his leg, and on his beer bottle. It’s probably something all drummers did, but she knew it was going to grate on her nerves before the night was over. “And what do you do when you’re not playing the drums?”

  “You mean for a living? I deliver the mail.”

  A smile burst across her face. “You’re a postal carrier?”

  “Yup. I got a job with the post office right outta high school. I didn’t even need to go to college.”

  Damien clocked his head toward Jimmy. “This is who the government trusts with our mail.”

  It was more far-fetched than Angel being a gourmet chef. “What made you go to work for the post office?”

  “My father didn’t want me to be a musician. He was a famous drummer in the seventies but gave it up to raise a family. He didn’t like being on the road all the time and away from us. Man, I remember how my mother used to cry every time he left home. Us kids too.” He looked off to the side and shook his head. “I’ll never do that. I know my drums come first; that’s why I’m not settling down with one chick any time soon.”

  She was intrigued by Jimmy’s father’s music career. “What was the name of his band? Does he still play the drums?”

  “Summertime. And he’ll never stop playing the drums. It’s inside him, just like it’s inside me. I probably picked up a pair of drumsticks before I could hold a spoon. Been playing for longer than I remember. My parents have a picture of me as a baby, sitting on my father’s lap, holding a stick bigger than me and trying to hit the snare.”

  She listened with fascination while Jimmy talked about his childhood and reminisced about playing the drums with his dad. Ironically, she realized that now she knew more about Jimmy and Angel than she did about Damien.

  Chapter Eleven

  Damien sat behind the front desk at the tattoo shop and palmed the wad of cash in his pocket through his jeans. He had been saving up for the new Ibanez for two years, and he finally had enough money to purchase it. That sweet four-string was going to be his before the day was over.

  Alyssa handed her client an after-care sheet, looked across the room at Damien and nodded. It was her signal that she wanted his help in clearing her station. It didn’t matter how many times a day they made eye contact, the subtle acknowledgement always made Damien’s heart beat a little faster.

  She held his stare as he walked over to her station, still clutching the roll of hundred dollar bills in his pocket.

  Her gaze fell to his hand and her lips pulled back into a naughty smile. “What are you holding onto down there?”

  He took her hand and placed it over the conspicuous bulge in his jeans. “What does it feel like?”

  She squeezed and prodded it. “It’s substantial, but it wasn’t what I was hoping for.” She wrapped her fingers around it, still trying to assess its identity. “What the hell is that?”

  “Money. I’m buying a new bass. Another Ibanez but this one’s top of the line. I’ve had my eye on it for a long time. Do you want to take a walk over to the music store with me when you have a break?”

  She checked her appointment book. “I could do it at three. Does that work?”

  “It’s a date.” He headed back to his desk, envisioning the feel of the fine instrument in his hands.

  “Hey!” Alyssa called after him. “Did you forget something?”

  Her voice broke his concentration, and he turned back toward her.

  She motioned to her work station with a teasing glint in her eye. “Aren’t you gonna help me clean up? I got a crisp twenty dollar bill to donate to your new guitar.” She waved the money in her hand and taunted him with it.

  He stuffed it down the front of her top, purposely skimming her breasts with his fingers. “You know I don’t take your money. And it’s a bass, not a guitar.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  He abruptly straightened his shoulders. She was serious. “You really don’t know?”

  She pursed her lips together in thought, shook her head slightly, and tried to hide the smile that was spreading across her face. “Not really.”

  “I’m gonna have to give you a little education tonight.”

  The spiked heel of her stiletto dug into the top of his boot. She was twirling her foot, and the heel was spiraling into him. With her chin tilted down, she looked up at him with smoldering eyes. “I planned on giving you a little education tonight as well.” She moved closer, so no one else could hear. “I hope you’re ready for it.”

  With his new baby tucked safely in its new case, and a box that contained a small cabinet amp, Damien and Alyssa piled into the backseat of the waiting taxi.

  The driver eyed them through the rearview mirror, waiting for an address.

  When Damien directed him to bring them back to Designs For The Flesh, Alyssa cocked her head in his direction. “Don’t you want to drop that stuff off at your apartment first? We’re going to my place tonight. I have a little surprise for you. Remember?”

  How was he supposed to explain to her that his place was a dilapidated relic, when she lived in a pristine, modern apartment building?

  “What’s wrong?” She didn’t understand his silence. “Don’t you want me there?”

  Guilt made him hang his head into his chest. Now her feelings were hurt, or she thought he was hiding something. “Course I want you there, but my place is a dump. You’re used to nice things. I don’t want you to see how shitty my apartment is.”

  “That doesn’t matter to me.” She laced her fingers through his. “I get it. You’re a struggling musician. My mom is an artist, too. We had it rough sometimes when I was a kid, before people started buying her paintings. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Damien.”

  The understanding in her voice was appreciated, but he still didn’t want her to see his apartment in its current condition. He didn’t c
are that the bathroom toilet had rusty water stains or that the kitchen had never been updated. He had a brand new bed but barely any other furnishings. The couch and tiny kitchen table were from a thrift store but looked more like they were salvaged from the curb on garbage day. Angel’s offer to fix the place up would make it a little more presentable for Alyssa, and Damien found himself reconsidering the suggestion.

  With his new Ibanez across his knee, Damien settled into Alyssa’s living room couch. He plucked at the strings and listened to the most beautiful sound in the world. There was nothing more pleasing to his ear than a freshly tuned bass. The thump of each string sent a low hum through the apartment. “Sit next to me,” he called to Alyssa.

  She folded one leg underneath her and sat attentively at his side. “Are you going to teach me to play?”

  He popped his head up. “Are you serious?”


  That damn half-smile was teasing him again. She was always baiting him with her snarky jokes, and he always fell for them. He reached out and tickled her waist until she broke out into a series of giggles. “One of these days you’re gonna pay for tormenting me.”

  “OK! OK! I’m sorry.” She shielded her waist with her arms while her laughter died down. “What did you want to show me?”

  “I want you to listen.” He plucked one note at a time, then played a piece from an Immortal Angel song. “Did you hear that throaty growl? The boom that matches the bass drum?”

  She nodded. “Your guitar sounds different than Karl’s.”

  “Bass,” he corrected her. “Karl plays lead guitar. I play the bass.”

  “OK, your bass sounds different than Karl’s guitar.”

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Again, he questioned whether her tone was playful or sincere. He stared at her with slightly narrowed eyes until they both slowly smiled at the same time. Damien put his bass aside and pulled Alyssa into his arms. “You’re a smartass. You know that?”

  She laughed. “I just like to keep you on your toes. Seriously, though, you’re an excellent musician. Did you take lessons?”

  The memory was bittersweet for Damien. It was a long time ago, and he was trying to leave it behind. “No. Couldn’t afford them. The manager at the music store where I used to work taught me a little. He showed me chords and how to read music, but I basically learned by listening. I can play by ear. I’ll show you.” He put his iPod on the docking station and played Around the World by The Red Hot Chili Peppers. He bobbed his head and tapped his foot while he isolated the bass notes. When Anthony Kiedis started singing the chorus, Damien played along with the song.

  Alyssa sat back, surprised and impressed. “How’d you do that?”

  “I can hear it. Listen.” He stopped playing and tapped his foot along to the drum beat, then joined in again with his bass.

  Alyssa was shaking her head. “I still have no idea how you did that.”

  It wasn’t often that pride filled Damien’s heart, but when it came to music, it was his one accomplishment in life. He mastered his instrument and excelled at it. There was ease and familiarity in each note he played. There was an intimate connection since the first day his fingers graced the strings. It was a natural ability and something he could never suppress.

  When the song ended, he put his bass on the couch next to him and admired the bright red paint and the gleaming silver accents. It felt like forever while he waited to own the beautiful instrument next to him. He leaned down and kissed the strings.

  “You have a lot of talent, Damien. I don’t know anyone who can play the way you do.” She moved closer to him and ran her fingers over his shoulder.

  The way she touched his neck and fingered the edge of his ear made the blood run through his veins like a wildfire. Just sitting close to her was enough to give him a rush. She was watching him with a small smile that quickly turned seductive. There was a smoldering heat behind her eyes, and she let out a breathy sigh before her lips fell on his neck. When it came to Alyssa, restraint was out of the question. He took her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap. His mouth covered hers in a kiss and his hand slid up her thigh.

  She stopped his hand and pushed him back on the couch, trying to take control. He pushed back, but she slipped out of his arms.

  “Where do you think you’re going? Get back over here.”

  “You gave me a little education on music.” She kissed his chest, fell to her knees and pawed at his belt. “Now it’s my turn to show you a little something.”

  His heart quickened, and his cock swelled at the erotic thoughts that filled his head. Her mouth engulfed him and her tongue stud hit the tender flesh on the underside of his cock. He spread his legs a little wider, threw his head back on the couch and moaned. She pulled her mouth away, leaving him yearning for its return. “You little tease. Don’t stop.”

  Her body skimmed his as she slithered up to place a kiss on his lips. “Let’s go into the bedroom.”

  With his heart racing, he followed her to the bed.

  “Get naked and lie down.”

  He did as she instructed. He had no idea what she had planned, and he watched as she rummaged through the back of her closet, moving things around until she found what she was looking for. The simplicity of the brown cardboard box she produced intrigued him. Images flashed behind his eyes as he tried to guess its contents.

  The box landed on the bed and Alyssa gave him a sly smile. “Don’t be afraid.”

  Her warning sent a hot chill up his spine, and his cock throbbed while he watched her open the box. She pulled out a surgical pad and placed it on the bed. The bottle of lube that she retrieved next made him break out in a nervous smile. The idea of anal play wasn’t completely off the table, but he wasn’t sure how far he was willing to go.

  She knew what he was thinking and chuckled at his reaction. “I’m not going to use that hole.”

  The questioning smile on his face gave away his confusion.

  She left her box with the contents still inside and knelt between his legs. She stroked his cock a few times, then started to lick it from the base to the tip. She toyed with the head and prodded it between her fingers. She played with his slit and tickled the delicate opening with her tongue. She teased it with a series of aggressive flicks, while her tongue stud hammered his cock with a wonderful beat.

  “That feels so good,” he sighed, as his legs started to tremble.

  She pressed the stud against the tip of his cock, and it slipped inside the slit. Damien gasped at the intrusion, unsure about the invasive action. It was unfamiliar and foreign, different than anything he experienced before. It didn’t hurt like he would’ve thought. It was surprisingly erotic. He wanted her to do it again, even though he was still processing the new wave of sensations, but she returned to her box of goodies.

  Latex gloves joined the bottle of lube. He noticed that it wasn’t ordinary lube. It was Surgical Lubricant. His eyes grew wider and his heart beat a little faster as he wondered what she had planned. The next item she retrieved from the box was wrapped in paper towels. He watched her uncover its contents with intense interest. They were long cylinder rods sealed in plastic. Like silver daggers, they shone brightly under the light from the ceiling fixture, casting an eerie white glow. Their purpose was still unclear, and even though they looked ominous, his blood was racing with excitement. “What are they?”

  “Urethral sounds.”

  Mild shock, accompanied by a healthy dose of fear, passed through his body. His heart rate increased rapidly, but he wasn’t protesting – not yet, anyway. Her laughter should have scared him, but it calmed him.

  “Don’t worry. I was a nurse, remember? My favorite thing, besides penetrating the skin with a needle, was inserting a catheter.”

  His mind was spinning with images of the metal rods penetrating his penis. It was an unheard of experience, but if it felt anything like the tongue stud, which was l
arger in circumference than the rods, he wanted to try it. “Have you done this before?”

  “No, but I always wanted to. I’ve never met anyone who I felt comfortable asking – until I met you.”

  Goosebumps rose on his flesh. Her provocative smile and the glint of light off the instruments in her hand made the blood rush to his cock. It was a crazy idea. Most men would’ve probably jumped from the bed and ran, but Damien was ready to be infiltrated by the spear-like, metal rods.

  “They’re brand new and I sterilized everything in my autoclave. You have nothing to worry about. I know what I’m doing. I would never try this if I wasn’t an experienced nurse. If you don’t like it, just tell me and I’ll stop.”

  He was eager and ready. “Do it.”

  Her eyes sparkled back at him and her red lips smiled wider.

  The doctor/patient fantasy was about to unfold.

  She carefully opened the package and let the instruments fall onto the sterile pad without touching them. The black latex gloves slipped over her hands with a snap at the wrist. Watching her smear the head of the instrument with a generous amount of lubrication brought reality home. She was going to insert a long metal rod into the head of his penis. Surprisingly, he felt his cock harden, even though his heart was racing out of control.


  A grunt left his throat, and he nodded. It was supposed to be an “uh-huh”, but anticipation stole his voice. He propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch, unsure if he really wanted to see it enter his body or not.

  Her hand tightened around his cock to steady it while she dropped a dollop of lube on its opening. The first rod she was going to use was the thinnest. It would fit easily inside his slit, but alarm made his blood soar. It was a powerful high that turned him on and terrified him, equally.


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