by Jesse Jordan
“And?” I ask, Ian humming.
“They're interested in meeting you. They know a little bit about you, not the details as that's your right to tell them in your own time. But Rocky and Joey both say they've got my back, and the girls both want to meet you. When you think the time's right, we can look at doing that. I was kinda hoping tonight, but Rocky's baby's got a little fever, and Joey's getting ready to shoot his music video tomorrow for that EP he did as a fun little side project in between tour legs. The problem is they want to do a sunrise shoot for it, it's a total couple's song, so he and Andrea both are starring in it. Kinda like what John Legend did with his wife for that song of his... you know which one I'm talking about?”
“Cool, Joey's doing his own thing too?” I ask, and Ian nods. “Did he sing?”
“Nah, it's all instrumental. He and I laid down about a dozen tracks, half of them are going onto the next group album, the other half are his EP. Here, have a listen to the main song, as long as you double secret pinky swear not to tell anyone until the track drops next week.”
I laugh, nodding and holding up my right pinky to swear when Ian hooks it and pulls my hand up, kissing my knuckles. “Oh, that's what you wanted?”
His eyes are smoldering as he nods, letting go. “For now. But here's the track.”
I sit back, enveloped in the perfect support of the leather seat before I'm swept away by the surround sound system, closing my eyes as the track starts. I expected it to start with Joey's guitar, but instead the first thing I hear is Ian's drums, the bass starting with a slow, even beat like a heartbeat before Joey comes in with his guitar. I can hear it, and it's sensual. There's a Latin undercurrent to it, like Joey I guess, but the main portion of the song is just pure sensuality. Ian's drums play a muted backbeat, mostly the bass going along like a heartbeat, speeding up slowly as the song progresses.
I'm not normally into just instrumentals, especially a song that I think is going to mostly be one long guitar solo, but suddenly the guitar is joined by another guitar, slightly higher in pitch and working in harmony, and the whole song just hits me. It's a man, a woman.... they don't have a lot, maybe they live in a crappy apartment, but it doesn't matter to them, they're together, making love...
“Oh, my God...” I whisper, blinking as the last notes fade away, and all that's left is Ian's slowing bass drum, a little shaky now, like a heartbeat after an orgasm. “That's going to end up banned in four states.”
“Yeah, I told Joey that it's a baby-maker,” Ian admits, chuckling. “And that was before I heard the completed cut, where Cora overlaid the two guitar tracks. Those are both Joey, by the way.”
“I can see why Joey would want to release it as an EP. I just can't imagine that being played live, it needs both tracks and I can't see Rocky doing the other part. No offense to him,” I reply, shifting around in my seat. After my little bit of self-love the other night, and now this, with Ian so close I can feel my body very closely, and I'm aware of how pleasantly chafing my panties are right now. “Well, unless you want a new, mostly male audience who likes other guys.”
We get to the burger restaurant, and I'm amazed at the selection. Duck bacon, black truffle mayonnaise, buffalo burgers... there's things on this menu that I have no idea even could be put in a burger. Finally, I look over at Ian helplessly. “I'm lost.”
Ian laughs and waves the waiter over. “Can you get Nancy from the back? Tell her Ian's asking for her.”
The waiter disappears, and a few minutes later a short, chubby Middle Eastern-looking woman comes out, smiling when she sees Ian. “You big goon, you didn't tell me you were coming tonight!”
“What're you talking about, I made a res!” Ian protests with a laugh, getting up to swallow the woman in a hug. “Nancy, I'd like you to meet my date, Mary Waller. Mary, this is Nancy Hadad, one of the best burger chefs you'll ever meet. I met Nancy about five years ago when she was slinging these things out of a food truck down by the beach.”
“It's a pleasure,” Nancy says, offering her hand and we shake. “So, what's going on tonight, guys?”
“Honestly? I have no idea what I want, everything looks great,” I admit, and Nancy smiles. “I think Ian wants your help for me.”
“That I can do. What type of burgers do you like usually? What flavors and stuff are you in the mood for?”
I think, then hum. “Lots of cheese, usually some bacon, something with some more crunch, not too much spice tonight.”
“I can do that. Just realize, the bacon's not going to be your normal pork bacon. You know, Hadad and all,” Nancy says. “I'm not super strict, but the whole no pork thing is one of the rules I do follow. Are you okay with that?”
“I'm good,” I reply, and Nancy gives me a thumb’s up. “So, chef's choice?”
“Two chef's choices then,” Ian adds. “And a big basket of your onion rings beforehand, too. With your special mayo.”
“I knew that as soon as they told me you were here,” Nancy says with a smile. “You always eat about two onions worth of rings all by yourself. I'll have those out in three minutes.”
She leaves, and I look over at Ian, who's shaking his head and smiling. “She's nice.”
“She is,” Ian admits. “I really was happy to help her get this place up and running last year.”
“Say what?” I ask, shocked. “You mean you own this place?”
Ian shakes his head, sipping his water. “No, I just gave her a personal loan to help out. The terms were simple, she pays me back over the next three years, and my interest is I get to eat here for free in the meantime. When the food gets here, you'll see how it's hard not to take advantage of those terms.”
When the burgers do arrive, I'm shocked at how generous and delicious they are. I can't identify the meat, it's not beef or at least not just beef, but other than a delicious herby gentle spiciness, I'm clueless. I just know it's the yummiest burger I've ever eaten.
Even better is the company though. Ian's mostly quiet, but in his eyes, I see the same smoldering attention that makes me feel tingly inside. Finally, when I'm halfway through my burger, I set it aside, a question on my mind. “Ian?”
“Hmmm? Like the fried mushrooms?” he asks, spearing one of the side dish mushrooms with a fork and popping it in his mouth. “They're great in my opinion.”
“They're great. I had a question for you. I don't want to seem ungrateful, but I'm going to be honest, I'm surprised you asked me out again. I’m still kinda shocked you asked me out the first time, after knowing about my past. Since getting out, most of the people who find out about my past sort of get that look on their face....”
“Like they just smelled some bad fish?” Ian completes. I nod.
“So what’s your reason?” I ask. “I'm not trying to pry Ian, I just... I still don't understand.”
Ian thinks for a moment, setting down his burger. “Well, obviously, part of it is that yes, I think you're cute. But you're not asking about that. Mainly it's that.... up until six months ago, I was pretty miserable, and didn't even know it. I was moody, I was a total bastard half the time, and it's only because I got lucky that I found out why. So, I'm trying to pull myself together. You're doing the same. And...”
Ian goes quiet, a looking coming over his face that I've never seen before on him, but one I recognize from the mirror too many times. I reach over, taking his hand. “What were you on?”
“Not me,” Ian says with a sad sigh. “My parents. Mary.... you're one of about a dozen people who know this, but my name... well, my birth name isn't Ian Ivory. Ian's my middle name, and my last name was Blanchard. My parents and I were in the entertainment world.”
I think, the name tickling the back of my mind, and then I get it. “Wait. Richie Blanchard?”
Ian nods, sighing. “That was me. My parents were minor character actors in the eighties, my father did a lot of slasher flick stuff in the eighties and nineties. I got my start... well, Richie got his start at five, and apparently, I w
as popular.”
“I'll say,” I remark, snorting in laughter. “I remember seeing you in Robert's Rules of Order. You were pretty funny.”
Ian actually blushes, then grows sad. “Yeah, I guess so. According to the web, between that and the other movies I did before I was ten, I made nearly nine million dollars for myself.... or at least my parents.”
“They stole it from you?” I ask, and Ian nods. “Coke? Meth?”
“Vegas actually at first,” Ian admits. “By the time I hit puberty, we'd gone from having a house that was bigger than your average preschool to living in a crappy tract house in Reseda. Then the roles dried up as I shot from being a short, chubby cute kid to what I am now. Apparently, I don't have the movie star look anymore unless you want to count pro wrestling, but I didn't want to do it by then anyway. It went from being fun, playing and getting to goof off with people to being forced to take roles because my parents needed another ten grand to make payments to some bookie. When the roles dried up they got abusive, or at least as much as they could until I started fighting back. When I was fifteen I put my father in the hospital with a broken collarbone. That stopped the physical abuse, but the mental abuse didn't stop until I left. And I couldn't get out of that house fast enough. They'd started doing drugs, and the shit their dealers did to them …
“Was there any left?” I ask, and Ian nods.
“Enough to let me move away, change my name legally, and start renting an apartment in Huntington Beach. The one time my parents tried to reach out to me I filed a restraining order against them, mainly because I saw they weren't trying to clean up, just mooch off me. Then apparently, they took out the wrong line of credit with the wrong bookie in New Jersey, and I haven't heard from them since.”
I take it in, the sadness, the anger, and betrayal, then look up at him. “So, why me?”
“Because you're trying to pull yourself out. Mary, I forget how many times I tried to get my parents to go to GA, then later NA. Some of my co-stars even tried to help them, to do interventions once or twice. Seriously, you know you're in a world of shit when a guy who's just as famous for being in a well-funded and very lawsuit-happy cult as he is for acting is telling your parents they need help. But they didn't stop. They knew they were fucking themselves up, they knew they were fucking me up, but they didn't even try to stop. You, you're trying to get back on the right path again, and you're kind of like me, you didn't have a choice anyway. Now, if you were to go back to using....”
“I understand,” I reply, stopping him. “Ian, you're right, it wasn't my choice to start. And while I'm part of that twenty-five percent who do have some sort of physical need, I don't have the mental need. If anything, I hate that part of me with a passion. But I'm hoping that as the years pass, I can get that part of me down to something minor. Maybe I can fill most of that gap with something better, purer.”
“That I can totally, completely understand,” Ian says, picking up his burger. “There's a lot of people in the music business who are trying to do the exact same thing, sometimes using the music to try and fill that hole, or maybe explain it to themselves and to the world. Some succeed, some.... well, not so much.”
We go back to eating, and when we're finished, Ian insists on at least tipping the waiter the amount the bill would have been before giving Nancy a hug. “Delicious as always Nance.”
Nancy hugs Ian back, then gives me a look. “Hang onto this big ape. He's a keeper.”
Ian's smile on the way to the bar where the event is being held dims just as we pull in. “Mary, with this being a label event, I can't quite be as much in fuck-off mode as I was last time, or quite as one on one. Our publicist James is going to be there, so he'll try to run interference, but there might be a few times people will ask for autographs.”
“Who says I won't try and get one of my own?” I tease before taking his hand. “Ian, I thought about that. I'm not saying I'm totally comfortable with dating a guy who's publicly known, but I'll do my best to handle it.”
“Okay... then let's go party,” Ian says, shutting off the engine and coming around, opening the door for me and escorting me inside. We only stop for photos once where I throw up the mandatory devil horn hand gesture, and inside I find an already busy scene. The bar's big, more of a club than a real bar, with nearly two hundred people inside, and the music is... well, I think I like Ian's Caddy better than the group on stage.
“Ian!” a man who can't be much more than four feet tall and looks like a well-dressed roadie says, making his way through the crowd. “Yo! Down here!”
“James, cut it,” Ian says with a sarcastic smirk, gesturing to me. “There's a lady here, ya dipshit.”
“Yeah, yeah, every time you guys find a beautiful woman you just cut me off at the knees,” the man says, laughing. “Hi, James Vandenberg, publicist for the Fragments. Which means I basically make Ian here try and look good.”
“Mary Waller, it's a pleasure,” I reply, shaking hands. “How're the acts?”
“So far total dogshit, but the favorites are slated to come on in a few minutes. If I were still a producer I might be able to hodge-podge a band together out of members of different acts, but that's not my job no more. Ian, if you can make yourself available to just take a photo with the winner at the end of the competition, say eleven thirty or so?” James asks, and Ian nods. “Great. So, Mary...”
“Don't answer anything he asks without a lawyer and a tape recorder present,” Ian jokes, and James glowers. I can't help it, I laugh, and James' face clears.
“You know, of all three band members, you're the one that gives me the most heartburn,” James grunts before walking away.
Ian shakes his head, and I give him a curious look. “Why's that?”
“James became our publicist after Rocky and Cora hooked up, so he's been out of the scandal sheets for a while. Joey's your perfect boy next door type off stage, so I've been the only one to have caused him any minor issues. Uh, Mary, I guess this isn't the best time to say anything, but you know, being a musician....”
“You took road comfort from time to time,” I finish, and he nods, blushing. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he asks, and I nod.
“Okay. Ian, you've overlooked my problems, it'd be stupid for me to think you're perfect. You're a famous musician, I'm sure you've hooked up with a groupie from time to time. Just promise me one thing?”
“What's that?” he asks, and I take his hand.
“If we're dating, then we're dating. I won't hook up with another guy, and you'll say no to the groupies? We're going to be exclusive?”
Ian grins, nodding. “I can do that. I’ve been pretty good the past few months. Getting adjusted to my new lifestyle sort of helps that, and the move does it’s fair share too. Come on, let's have some fun.”
For the next two hours, I can't remember having a better time. During some of the bands' performances we dance, and Ian, despite his huge size is actually a good dancer, light without being prancy, still strong and having that presence that he just exudes. When fans would come up he’s polite and makes sure that I’m always included in any conversations that lasted more than a quick greeting and autograph. I get the impression that a lot of the people in the crowd are at least somewhat connected to the music industry, which I can understand. If this is a battle of the bands, there must be scouts and agents around as well as regular fans.
Most of the time though, I’m just aware of Ian. His hand on my hip leaves me yearning for his touch, and the feel of his body as we dance has my pussy quivering. His tight, muscular body sends tremors through my body as we move on the dance floor, and by the time the bands are done playing, I’ve got only one thought on my mind.
While the judges deliberate, one of the better bands, a group calling themselves The Wasabi Chilidogs, comes back on to play one more song. It's a slow sort of song, and Ian takes me out for one more dance. “I'm glad someone played something slow,” he says as he rests his hands on my waist. �
�I wanted the opportunity to do this.”
We dance closer, our bodies brushing against each other from time to time, and at one point I'm surprised when I feel something bump against me when I turn around. It's big, I swear it feels like a forearm against me, but when I push back Ian half moans, and I realize... holy shit. I thought I’d felt him before when we kissed, but this is something I can barely believe. I look back, and either he's got a foil-wrapped cucumber in his jeans, or he's hung like a fucking porn star. “Ian?”
“Hmmm?” he asks, smiling when he realizes what I'm looking at. “Problem?”
“No...” I say, but before I can say more the song ends and James comes over, pulling Ian away as the judges present the award to a group called The Peter's Sons, not my favorites but still good.
Afterward, Ian comes back over, taking my hand and whispering in my ear. “You ready to get out of here?”
“My place?” I ask, and Ian nods. “For sure.”
There isn't much talk on the way back to my place, just a feeling of quiet anticipation. I know that Ian wants me, and I'm looking forward to it too. I'm on the pill, and I assume he's going to have a condom, if we need to we can stop and get some.
Parking in my parking lot, Ian comes around and opens my door, but instead of helping me out he picks me up, crushing my body against his as he lets his strength, which has been restrained all night as he tried to behave to the rules of society, is let loose. It's breathtaking as he kisses me, his eyes glowing with desire as he kisses down my neck to suck hard on the soft skin at the collar of my shirt. “Ian.... inside. Please?”
“Mm, you have ten seconds to get that door open,” he warns me, “or else I fuck you right here in the walkway.”
His threat sends heat through my body and I somehow get the door open by the time he reaches seven, Ian taking the time to actually close and lock my door before he grabs me and picks me up, looking around in slight confusion. “Bed?”
