He just stood there knowing full well what she meant.
Shaking her head, “See what these fucked up rock stars do to you. What’s he got you on, heroin, coke? Look at you, I didn’t even recognize you!”
“Let’s go,” he said grabbing my arm, “we don’t need this shit.”
Tears began to well up in my eyes and I realized she was right.
“Well,” she continued, “you need shit from someone. What have you done to this girl? Go, just go and take your junkie asses out of my club!”
I ran out to the car and cried my eyes out.
“Fucking fat ass bitch!” he said as he got in next to me. “Don’t listen to her man. Who the hell is she to lecture to you about anything? She owns a two-bit fucking strip club for God’s sake. I got fucking gonorrhea from one of her whores!”
I stopped crying long enough to look at him in disgust. I guess he forgot who he was talking to; I was now his wife not some groupie any more.
Let’s see how long that will last.
We checked into a hotel and were given the Honeymoon Suite fully stocked with the finest champagne, chocolates and flowers.
The bed was huge and the suite reminded me of the one back in Boston. The one with my rock star. Oh God, what have I done?
We got ready for bed and the thought crossed my mind if we would fuck tonight and I was hoping the answer was yes since it had been awhile.
Although we had been high earlier, neither one of us had done too much drug wise that day which surprised me but in a way I was glad.
He jumped up on the big bed, snuggled in and patted the pillow beside him.
“Come here baby,” he said in his sexy rock star voice.
I climbed up on the oversized bed and lay down next to him. He softly caressed my hair and then bent down to kiss me.
It felt good. It had been a while since we made love, fucked or sucked and I was horny as fucking hell.
I knew he had other women on the road but I had no one else and wanted and needed to be satisfied. Maybe this wasn’t the life or the man of my dreams but he was in here, in this bed and quite possibly loved me. Maybe too, he wanted to fuck.
He glided himself on top of me and began to rub his bulging cock up against my tight pussy. Although both of us were fully clothed, the heat that the sensation created was intoxicating.
With each motion of his body, his kisses were in perfect tune with whatever his body was doing at the moment.
“Spread your legs,” he whispered, as he reached down and began rubbing my blue jean mound.
I was really getting turned on when he said, “You like that Baby?”
“Yes,” I moaned.
“Do you like this?” he said as he gently put his tongue into my mouth. “Suck on it,” he said quietly.
I willingly obliged.
His arms extended out in front of him like he was doing push-ups and he slowly bent down and blew into my ear. His warm breath tingling every inch of me.
“Is this how he does it?” he whispered.
What did he just say?
I stopped writhing in ecstasy long enough to ask, “What?”
“You know who. Roxy told me all about it.”
That two-faced bitch!
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I lied.
I knew he and Roxy were close, not like that, but they had a history of friendship long before I ever came onto the scene.
He was still on top of me but now the fake love making had stopped and he was just staring down on me.
If looks could kill.
I tried to wiggle away from underneath him. “No, you stay right where you are,” he said as he lowered his body onto mine. His tone was frightening.
“Let me tell you something bitch. You stay the fuck away from that SOB, you hear me. If I find you talking to him or hearing about you sneaking around with that fucking sex fiend, I’ll have both your asses, do you understand me?”
I was scared but nothing had happened on tour, I promise, but I should have known that Roxy would have run her big fat mouth to him about what she thought she walked in on.
“Let me up please,” I said, trying not to act scared.
“No, not until you tell me the truth. Did you fuck that guy on tour?”
“No,” which was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
“Well, rumor has it you fucked him at some point and I see the way he looks at you. But guess what, you’re my wife now and you two stay the hell away from each other, you hear me?”
He got up, went into the bathroom and I could hear the shower running.
At that moment, I wanted to get up and run out of the room.
He didn’t love me, he only married me to be strong on him. However, if I heard him correctly, he said he saw the way he looked at me. A man knows doesn’t he? Oh God, what was I going to do now?
We flew back into LA the next morning and we barely said five words to each other. I didn’t really feel any different now that I was his wife and not his groupie except I knew now, after last night on our pretend “honeymoon” that I needed to get away from him, the drugs and the loveless five minute marriage.
The band was headed back on the road the following Tuesday and I had already been warned again to “watch my ass”. I knew he had people spying on me while we were on tour and I certainly couldn’t trust Roxy.
That night, the band, the crew and a slew of other assholes came over to celebrate the happy couple. Whoopee!
It was a usual party at our house, alcohol, drugs, sex and nonsense. I was jonesing for a hit, did a few lines of blow, and shot up once. I wanted to kick this dragon in the fucking ass but didn’t have the strength to fight it.
I saw Roxy and her lead guitarist come in and she hugged everyone but me. Bitch!
When I had a moment alone with her, I confronted her.
“Why in the hell did you tell him that lie about me?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Cause it wasn’t a lie, that’s why. He needs to know what a little slut he has living under his roof.”
I hated that bitch. She was just a ghetto piece of shit who latched onto a rock star who had too much hair in his face to see her for what she really was.
“I told you nothing was going on between us. I thought you were my friend.”
She looked somewhat embarrassed and said, “I am your friend Poppy but my loyalties are not to you. There wouldn’t even be a band if it wasn’t for him. Besides, it didn’t look like nothing was going on between you two and he had a right to know. You’re married now, so get over it!”
At that she walked away.
Bitch!
The next few days were spent in a drug addled haze of booze, dope and misery.
I knew come Tuesday we would be back out on the road and I didn’t want to go. I also knew that between the big mouth of Roxy and the grapevine of the fans, and the rock magazines that the news of our marriage would be all over town by the time the tour bus took off.
The thought of riding alongside Roxy in a limo turned my stomach even more.
Tuesday morning came and I told him that I didn’t want to go. I knew in my heart I would run into my rock star again and how would I explain the mess I was in. On second thought, why would he even care?
“Oh you’re going back out on tour with us, yes little missy you are! I am going to show the world that you are my married bitch and maybe that leather clad swaggering rock star of yours will get the hint and back the fuck off.”
What he really meant was that he had people, especially Roxy, watching my every move. I was not only a prisoner of drugs but I was now one of his as well.
We were headed up to the Civic Center in Ottawa, Canada and I don’t think I said a word during the whole trip in the limo.
The other bimbos were talking a mile a minute and Roxy with her dragon breath talked non-stop about the size of her boyfriend’s dick. It wasn’t much, she said, but she had snagged a rich rocke
r and that, she could live with.
She also went into great detail about his “amazing” tongue but that she hated the fact that it was black from too much booze and cigarettes.
Who the fuck cares?
We got to the stadium and as the tour bus unloaded, there was my “husband” the famous rock star with two slut groupies under both arms. One looked back at me, giggled and sneered, “Isn’t that your wife over there?”
He looked my way and said, “Yeah that’s her, come on,” and the three of them walked into the backdoor of the stadium.
I followed behind them like a stalker fan instead of a wife and when they parted company, he French kissed both of them full on the lips and told them he would see them after the show.
I got to the dressing room, it was a lot bigger than some of the accommodations we were used to, and it felt weird to me to be in another country.
The band was opening their set at 8:00 pm and there was a mad rush to get to the stage. There was some sort of mix-up with the French speaking promoter and the band management. I had overhead the whole thing and realized there was a breakdown in communication (since I was fluent in Canadian French from my father) but I never said a word.
Fuck em!
As the band made their way up to get on stage, everyone begin milling around backstage and after a few moments, I was left alone in the dressing room.
The girls had gone up to stand backstage like they usually did and I often did that myself but after seeing his public display with the groupies, I thought what was the point. I had had enough humiliation for one night.
Sitting at the dressing table, I fiddled with the makeup, hairspray and bullshit that lay haphazard on the stand. Looking in the mirror, I got scared. I didn’t even look like the same person. Gone was the naïve runaway who cussed out Peggy on the side of the road, hung with rock star wannabes in a black van, rode across country with a psycho aunt and now finally, staring back at me, was a grown woman of almost 20. I had everything that I wanted. Yeah right!
I put my head down on the table and began to cry. First in silent sobs then the waterworks came and I thought for a moment that the whole backstage would be under water from my pain.
Suddenly there was a soft knock on the door but I ignored it, keeping my head down on the countertop, I sat there and cried like a baby.
I could hear the door open and I felt someone in the room with me but at that moment, I was too weak to even look up to find out who it was.
I felt someone walk up to me and gently caress the back of my hair.
When I opened my eyes and looked up, there he was…my rock star staring down at me.
“Is it true,” he said quietly as he gently took my left hand in his. Looking at the cheap ass ring on my finger, he bit his lip and nodded.
I was so ashamed at that moment that I wanted to die.
“Stand up,” he said softly.
Rising to my feet, he suddenly embraced me. I could actually feel my body melt into his. For a moment, we were one person standing there.
It felt so good to be held by someone, to feel love from someone…there was that “L” word again but maybe this time, it was for real.
With that, I began to sob even more and cried tears of black mascara on his black leather vest.
He was not wearing a shirt underneath and I could feel my black tears stain his tan velvet skin.
He gently broke away, put his finger under my chin so I could face him and said, “This is not what you need.”
I sobbed, “I don’t know what I need anymore…”
“I do,” he said, “you need me.”
He reached out his hand and said, “Here…”
In his hand was a key.
“We’re staying at the Hilton next door. Leave now while he is still on stage. I’ll meet you back there after the show.”
I was speechless. “Why…I mean…why would you do this for me…” I cried.
Tenderly brushing the hair off my face, “You know why,” he said. “You know.”
He left the room which gave me time to get my shit together and clean up my face. There was more makeup there then a clown convention so finding something to touch up was not a problem.
It took all of five minutes and then I hit the door. Opening it, I was met with Big Red…Roxy!
“Where you going?” she said.
I sighed, “Get out of my way.”
“I don’t think so. I saw who just left here, you ain’t going nowhere bitch!”
With that, she pushed me back into the room, hard.
My five feet three, 100 pound junkie body was no match for the five foot eight, 180 pound pit bull standing in my way. Her big boobs, broad shoulders and long dragon lady nails were not going to stop me from being with my rock star.
I had seen enough girl on girl fights to know that they always went for the hair and the earrings. I didn’t have time to take out my hoops so both my long mane and earrings were fair game.
She slammed the door behind her, grabbed my hair, and hit me in the face. I fell back up against the dressing table and my left arm cleared the contents of the band’s makeup counter.
I heard a clunk as a can of hairspray hit the concrete floor. It rolled right into my reach. Grabbing it, I pointed it toward her manly face and sprayed the venom right into her piercing green eyes.
Releasing her hold on me, she clawed at her eyes and screamed.
I ran out of the hell in the room and all the way to Heaven…the Hilton next door.
Out of breath, I walked in and drew only momentary glances from the well-dressed clientele. I didn’t feel like a groupie anymore but an invited guest.
I casually found the elevator, pushed the button and found my way to his room. My rock star’s room.
Opening the door, I was greeted with the scent of lavender which threw me back into the bathtub in Boston.
The room was large but unassuming and I was almost deafened by the silence.
I was stressed and needed a fix. I knew all hell would break loose once the band knew I was missing, gone was more like it.
I took a quick shower with the expensive soap and shampoo then got comfy on the bed, turned on the TV and I opened up my bag and pulled out my stash of dope and rigs. I was shaking uncontrollably, I needed to calm down and this was the only way I knew how.
It would be hours till I was no longer alone so I took advantage of the stillness and did what I knew to do, needed to do. I got high.
After throwing up in the bathroom, I muted the TV and lay back down on the bed. I was sick and felt like I was dying inside and I smelled like it too. It seemed no amount of water could wash away the stench of drug addiction.
I soon fell into a soft and gentle sleep. I felt safe for the first time in a long time and I had to pinch myself to believe that I was actually in his bed again.
Sometime during the night, I was awakened by a noise in the room and opening my eyes, I saw the bathroom light flip on. In the dark, I saw a shadow of a man walk in, shut the door and turn on the shower.
About 15 minutes later, my rock star emerged from the bathroom, turned off the light and was all aglow from the light on the muted TV.
He was wearing only a towel.
I pretended to be asleep as I heard the towel drop to the floor beside the bed and felt him as he crawled in beside me.
He gently embraced me and held my thin, sick body close to his and thinking I was asleep, he whispered, “God, I missed you.”
I had to be either dreaming or still high, maybe both, but if this was Heaven, then sign me up now.
I thought for a moment, he was going to touch me, in that way, and want to make love to me. However, in my sickened soul, I didn’t realize that he was making love to me, just by holding me and keeping me safe.
I turned over and we were now face to face for the first time in a very long time, too long.
He kissed me with a passion I had not felt from him before and I became lost in his e
mbrace.
“Oh Poppy, I’ve missed you,” he sighed and I realized it was not a dream, this was really happening.
Rock of Love
I laid there for a moment as he explored my body with his left hand and I imagined I was his guitar and would be one with the rest of his body.
He held me tight for a few moments and we laid there in the silence of our embrace.
His lean, muscular body pressed gently but firmly up against mine. I was wearing only a polka dot bra with no panties and as I turned over, his hard cock rested against my tight but lonely pussy.
I didn’t want to fuck, no I wanted to make love. Not in a luxurious bathtub or have sex on a butter cloud in his wife’s living room. I wanted to be made love to, right here, right now by this man.
However, what I didn’t understand was that he was making love to me, without even entering me. He had offered me a safe haven, a port in the storm and he held me like a man in love. Yes, the “L” word.
By not bringing me to his room for a quick screw, he showed me something, that a man could respect me and in my heart, possibly love me as well. Maybe this time, I wasn’t dreaming. Keep it together Poppy.
At that moment, I felt like we were the only two people left in the world.
I quietly fell asleep in his arms.
The next morning, the sun came through the hotel curtain, I looked at the clock, and it read 8:00. I knew the tour continued at the Winnipeg Arena in Manitoba and we would soon be back on the road again.
In the stark morning light, I looked over at my rock star. He was on his back with one leg sticking out of the Egyptian cotton sheet, satin pillowcase under his black and blonde hair, the muscles in his back rippled like pebbles in a mountain stream…he was breathtaking and even in the morning light, he was still a god.
I got up and took a shower and he was still asleep when I came out. I knew I had to take a shower, but I didn’t want to. Not because of the drugs, but because I didn’t want to wash him off me. I wanted to live forever with his scent on me and then die a happy woman.
Lick and a Promise-Diary of a Rock Star Groupie (Rock Star Series Book 1) Page 13
