by T. Torrest
Lain out. Offering himself. A sacrifice on the altar.
Every fan in the front row pays tribute as they reach out to touch him, running their hands down his bare chest, trying to absorb his presence through their fingertips.
He is bigger than Elvis and The Beatles and the fucking New Kids on the Block right now. He is dripping, raw, animalistic sin. He exudes arrogance; he oozes swagger. He. Is. Sex, and every girl in this audience wants to get their hands on him.
Including me.
It’s just crazy to see him in full rockstar mode. It’s as if the expansiveness of the arena is allowing him to truly break free, as if those rinky dink bars he’s been playing all these years were too small to contain him. He’s been a big fish in a small pond for too long, and now it’s incredible to see his full potential busting out. You can just feel that he’s destined for fame. I know it. Every person in this room knows it.
He’ll be a big fish in a big ocean soon enough.
* * *
The energy is palpable in the dressing room after the concert. We stuck around to watch some of Stevie’s set—from the side of the stage holy shit—until about midway through the show when we were asked very kindly to get the fuck out of the way.
The guys have already cracked open the complimentary champagne and are spraying it all over each other as if they’ve just won the World Series. Any minute now, someone will dump a vat of Gatorade over Jack’s head.
He is the man of the hour, accepting his bandmates’ claps on the back and unending words of praise. Fact is, this entire night has only been made possible because of his and my chance encounter with Lutz Hamburg, Events Manager Extraordinaire.
I’d asked my dad if he knew anything about the guy, and as it turns out, he’d not only heard of him, but worked with him at one point over the years. Evidently, Lutz is way connected in the music industry. For a schlubby guy who chose to make his living in the armpit of New Jersey, he sure knew enough important people in New York.
Booey had done some research of his own and come to the same conclusion. He and Jack let the guys know going into it that playing this show was not only freaking awesome, but a fantastic networking move as well.
How fantastic was revealed a bit later as Lutz joined us backstage.
He’d come into the room to offer his congratulations, but more to pat his own back for being brilliant enough to hire Thunderjug. “You boys are welcome back any time. Any time!”
The guys all thanked him as he added, “I know producers. Are you shopping for a label?”
We all stopped and stared at him. The entire night had been surreal enough on its own, but his question seemed even more unbelievable.
I’d talked to Jack about this possibility a few days ago, and he had dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “Nah. This is a one shot deal. Shit like that doesn’t happen in real life, babe.” But still, he’d said, it was fun to dream.
And now here was Lutz, actually uttering the magic words.
Jack’s hand tightens around mine before he finds his voice. “We, uh… We never really discussed it, Lutz. We always just thought of ourselves as a bar band. But I mean…” he takes a look around the room as his bandmates mirror his own wide eyes. “We’d be stupid not to at least consider it.”
I thought Lutz was going to offer them a record deal right then and there. But as it turns out, he is simply talking shop with them. He brings up some names of people I’ve never heard of, but whom the mere mention of has Booey practically foaming at the mouth.
Collette and I leave the boys to their business and park our exhausted asses at the table in the corner of the room. We each crack open our beers and clink them together as I ask, “So, how did you meet Jimmy?”
She gets a dreamy look on her face as she twirls a strand of burgundy hair around her fingers. “Oh, we’ve known each other from the beginning. When these guys were first starting out, I was their very first fan.”
“That’s so cute.”
She gives a huff and answers, “Cute nothing. I waited around for three whole years before he finally asked me out. Going to every show, watching him leave every night with other girls…”
I immediately dismiss the vision of Jack doing the same. “But you’ve been together a year now? Obviously, you were meant to be together. What took him so long?”
“What took me so long, you mean.”
“Huh?”
“This bod used to be a lot bigger.”
I don’t know Jimmy very well, but he doesn’t strike me as a shallow asshole. I actually think he’s a pretty cool guy. I can feel that opinion changing almost immediately as I ask incredulously, “He wouldn’t go out with you because you were fat?”
Collette shakes her head and explains, “No, no, no, no.” She chuckles at me for being so short-sighted. “He wouldn’t go out with me because I was so inhibited about it. Once I came out of my shell, Jimmy came to heel just like that!” She gives a snap to her fingers at the end of her statement as I stifle a laugh.
“How about you two?” she asks through a giggle. “How did you manage to land Jack?”
I don’t necessarily feel as though I’ve ‘landed’ anyone, but I can’t help the smile that breaks through as I consider Collette’s question. “Well, the truth is… he kind of reeled me in.”
“Wow,” she says. “Who knew he had it in him? He used to be such a whore back in the early days. Well, you know, before the girlfriend.” Collette gives a roll to her eyes, and I have to fight the temptation to ask her for details. She must see the troubled look on my face, because she quickly amends her statement. “Oh, wait, hey. The groupies? The girlfriend? He fell into all that. He chose you.”
I know she’s trying to toss me a compliment, but her comment is only serving to remind me that I’m dating a chameleon. I’m kind of crazy about this guy, and it’s scary to think of how easily he could slip up. Crossing such a thin line could tear us apart.
And yet, I’m the last person in the world who has any right to judge him for his past.
My mind is spinning and a fake smile is plastered to my face as Jack comes over to retrieve me. “Hey. We’re thinking of hitting the casino for a little bit. You up for it?”
The guys are pulling themselves together, gathering up their things, and getting ready for a night out on the town. I’m still pondering Collette’s words as we all leave the cramped room to do some gambling and get our drink on.
And that’s when… right there in the hallway of The Circus Maximus in Atlantic City New Jersey… We run into Stevie Wonder.
Well, we actually run into his entourage, a group of about half a dozen people—bodyguards, assistants, whomever—but there’s no mistaking the famous face in the middle of it.
“Mr. Wonder!” Jack lets out, as the rest of us just look on in awe.
One of Stevie’s monsters leans down to whisper something in his ear, and that’s when he says this: “Oh, hey, yeah. I caught most of your set. You boys were really great tonight. Really, really great.”
I am rendered speechless as his surreal words sink in. Stevie Wonder thinks my boyfriend’s band is really great?
Jack is wearing a goofy grin, but he manages an elated, “Thank you! That means a lot, Mr. Wonder. Thank you very much.”
And then Stevie says this: “No problem, no problem. Nice to meet you boys. Enjoy your night.”
I freak out as I listen to him talk with those velvety pipes; that same voice sings some of my favorite, most-beloved songs of all time. He has just as much smile in his tone when he is speaking.
I want to comment on it, maybe share a laugh with him about such a silly observation… I want to tell him how amazing I think he is, how I’ve grown up with his music, that it’s part of the soundtrack to my youth… I want to tell him about that time when my father’s van broke down on the way to a music festival in Philly back in 1980, when Persuasion was supposed to be on the bill as one of his opening acts. I want to tell him how we got
there too late and Foreigner ended up extending their set, and how I cried the whole night because I’d missed his show.
Oh God, there are so many things I need to tell him. Why won’t my mouth work?
Wake up, Livia! How many chances am I ever going to get in my life to meet one of my childhood idols?
The guys all speak up to say goodbye, but I’m still completely unable to make sound come out of my throat.
That is, until I see him start to walk away… and I panic.
“Stevie!OhmyGodSteviethatwasanamazingshowtonightandthankyouforsharingyourstagewellit’snotreallyyourstagebutyouknowwhatImean.Oh!AndIknowSongsintheKeyofLifeisthealbumeveryonetalksaboutbutIlovedyourworkonInnerVisionsI’mnotevenkiddingthatalbumchangedmylife!”
I take a huge inhale in the seconds of silence, my mind still racing with all that I still want to say. I’m already out of breath from my ramble, and I’m gearing up for a second round of babble when…
Stevie looks at me.
So help me God, Stevie Wonder looks at me.
“Hey, that’s great. Thank you, thank you,” he says to me.
To me. Stevie Wonder said actual, coherent words to me. At least one of us was able to remember how to speak like a human.
His people shuffle him on his way, so he gives a wave and says, “You boys take care now. And you too, young lady.”
The guys all yell random parting greetings: “Thanks, Stevie!”
“Appreciate it, Mr. Wonder!”
“Thanks again!”
And then we watch him walk away.
I put my hands against my mouth and stare at Jack, wide-eyed. “Oh my God! We just met Stevie Wonder!”
“Yeahwedid.”
I slide my hands over my eyes and groan. “And oh my God, I just totally lost my cool in front of him.”
Jack chuckles, “Yeahyoudid. But it was adorable.”
He wraps his arms around me, consoling my embarrassed ass. I am physically cringing from my outburst, and I know there is no way I’ll ever be able to relive this amazing moment without dying a little inside each time.
“I’m a complete dork!” I say, as I bury my face in Jack’s chest.
He finally comes up with some words of wisdom for me. “Don’t feel too bad, babe. Remember when I ran into Springsteen? Yeah. That’s pretty much how it went down.”
CHAPTER 27
(Technically) Saturday, July 1, 1995
3:27 AM
The Days Inn
Atlantic City
I’m sprawled out on our huge bed in our thankfully clean, blessedly cool hotel room. I’m staring at the ceiling, trying to calm my mind enough to get some shuteye. But after the electric night we’ve just had, I’m finding it hard to come down.
Plus, I have Jack lying right next to me.
And he’s already asleep.
Getting my forty winks seems like a far-off request while lying next to the body of this rock god. I turn my head on the pillow and sneak a look at my sleeping buddy. He’s lying on his side, facing away from me. I take a moment to appraise the sight of his naked torso, the sheets tangled around his hips, the waistband of his cotton boxers riding just low enough that I can make out the dimples at the base of his spine. I strain to hear, but I can tell his breathing is soft and even, and I’m pretty sure he’s out like a light.
How in the hell can he stand it?
I mean, let’s forget for the moment that under normal circumstances, I’d be all over any random musician after the show I just witnessed. Thunderjug was phenomenal tonight, and normally, my elation over listening to such great music normally translated into my, um, grateful enthusiasm afterward.
But how is it that he’s able to fight the urge against a little celebratory action right now? I saw that look on his face when he came offstage. He was practically flying. We were both pumped up from the concert, Lutz’s news, meeting Stevie… and now here we are, alone, in our very own hotel room, actually spending the night together for the very first time. The only thing that could make this circumstance even more perfect is if we were at some swanky place instead of the fricking Days Inn.
Yet there’s Jack, determined to keep our bet.
His bet.
Sorry. Our arrangement.
Grrr.
I flop onto my side and run a light hand over his hair. Just because we’re not going to be having sex tonight doesn’t mean I can’t touch him, right?
I expect him to grumble and go back to sleep. But instead, my dark prince breathes out a comatose sigh and turns his body to face mine. His eyes are still closed… but his hand lands across my waist.
Hmmm. Promising.
I nudge in closer, quietly, slowly, moving my face just inches from his. I watch his thick lashes resting against his cheeks, feel the heat from his steady breaths against mine.
He skootches a bit closer toward me in his slumber, tucking my head under his chin and wrapping his arm fully around my waist, bringing me in for a nuzzle.
Full-frontal spoon. Alright. Getting somewhere. Maybe I can turn this into a snugglefuck after all.
I give out a sigh, pretending to be asleep as I press my body in closer, burrowing my face into the crook of his neck, inhaling that smoky, shaving-cream scent of him. Jack grunts, and I get the impression that he’s not as fully unconscious as I previously thought, because his hand starts a slow slide along the small of my back.
I have to go for it.
My lips part against his skin, and my tongue darts out softly to touch the hollow of his throat. I slip my hand down his side and wrap it around his hip, drawing him against me as I taste his skin, breathing against that perfect little spot at the base of his neck.
Jack groans, and I feel a third member join our party. Well, not a third member. There’s only one “member” popping up between the two of us. Whatever. You know what I’m trying to say.
His dick is getting hard, okay?
I slide my hand around to his ass and pull him toward me, and that little nudge is all it takes for Jack to roll completely on top of my body and grind himself against my shorts.
Score.
I swipe a hand through his unruly hair and press back. Jack’s eyes are still closed as his lips find mine, and before I know it, our mouths are a heated mosh of gnashed teeth and tangled tongue. I arch toward him, smashing my cami-covered tits into his bare chest as he slams against me, that sleepy semi now a full-fledged hard-on.
Please pardon this unscheduled break and let’s take a moment to appreciate The Dry Hump, shall we? Now. I should preface this by reminding you that I do, in fact, enjoy sex. Like, I think it’s the greatest invention ever. Two bodies joined in perfectly choreographed, sweaty, mindless debauchery? What’s not to love?
But even still, I gotta give props to The Dry Hump. The want on full display, the can’t ruling your desperate measures. The Dry Hump brings me back to my teenage years, before I was the uninhibited sex goddess I am today. It’s always been an incredible turn-on to just make out with a guy, feeling how badly he wants me, his almost-bursting trouser meat pressed right up against my lady bits, separated by a few layers of chaste-inducing clothing. It’s empowering, and sexy, and kills me in the very best possible way.
“Mmmm,” I moan, as Jack grits a breath through his teeth and rolls his hips against me right there oh my God don’t stop. I sigh back and wrap my legs around his waist as he rises up on his elbows and finally opens his eyes.
He’s still half-asleep, but conscious enough to be aware of what’s happening.
For the hundredth time, I ask myself why I agreed to this situation. I know holding off on the sex is the right thing, but he suggested it when the idea of our imposed celibacy was nothing more than an abstract idea. After spending all this time with him, it’s become increasingly difficult to keep up my end of the bargain. I already figured out that I was crazy about him, and I know he’s waiting to hear me say so, but I just can’t seem to find the words.
He has himself settled betw
een my legs, and his tongue buries inside my mouth again as his hand slides under my shirt. I let out with a small groan, and it makes him press himself against me harder, feeling the sweet friction the move causes as he unclasps my bra.
My mind is begging for him to keep going. I slip my hands around his neck as he pulls my shirt and bra off my body, giving him unfettered access to every inch of my exposed skin.
He grasps my breasts in his hands and wraps his lips around one, making me shiver and gasp against his ear. Nothing can stop this. He pinches one and sucks on the other, ramming himself against me, making me writhe underneath him, my contented sighs begging him to take me.
He tangles his hands in my hair, taking my mouth with his once again, my tongue searching for… I don’t know what… something… some sort of sign.
Because I’m about to explode and I need him inside me. Like now.
“Jack,” I whisper, the sound causing a buzzing inside my brain.
“Yeah?”
“Do you have anything?”
He curses under his breath, ignoring my question as he continues kissing me, and I think maybe there’s a chance he either hasn’t heard or simply misinterpreted my question. So, I make things a little clearer.
“Do you want to fuck me?” I whisper, grabbing his ass and pulling him tighter against my body. He starts grinding himself against me harder, faster, almost painfully as he lets out with an aching groan, and I slam my lips against him and smash my bare tits against his chest, moaning and panting and licking… and before I know it, his entire body tenses and…
“Ohhh…. Oh Liv, I…. Ohhhhh!”
His body shudders against me before he collapses, his breath coming out in an exasperated sigh through his teeth. He buries his face against my neck and punches the pillow next to my head.
