Sex, Decisions & Rock n' Roll (Redemption Tour #2)

by Michelle Lee

  WE ARRIVE AT the studio and the guys’ limo is parked, the driver leaning against the door smoking a cigarette. The guys must already be inside. There are a few girls lingering outside the building. I assume they are fans and are hoping to catch of glimpse of Dash, Lance, and Vic.

  The two of us make our way into the building, and I hear female laughter in the distance. Just fucking ducky. We follow the sound and find a room with several scantily clad women standing around laughing and talking. I notice that there is a doorway into another room, and I can hear Vic’s booming voice.

  “Suck it up, Ford, she’ll be here,” Vic starts as we finally enter the room.

  “Well, it’s about fucking time you two got here, especially you,” Vic says, pointing at me, a devilish grin plastered on his face. “Numbnuts here was ready to scour the city looking for you. I swear if you didn’t show up when you did, I was going to beat the shit out of his whiny ass.”

  I turn my attention to Dash, and for the first time I notice he’s blushing. Finally, I’m not the only one.

  “Well, I was afraid something happened, and I really wanted you here,” Dash’s velvet voice oozes across the room, pulling me closer to him. I notice him look past me as I get closer. The look of concern mixed with want on his beautiful face morphs into one of concern and confusion.

  “Where’s Russell?”

  Dash’s question catches me off guard. I turn around, and Mac is only a few feet behind. Val gestures over her shoulder with her thumb. “He stayed back and said Mac is our guy instead.”

  “What? Why?” Dash’s voice goes an octave deeper with a primal edge to it.

  With his eyes stuck to his phone, Roland approaches. “Because I told him to.” He doesn’t look up as Dash moves to stand in front of him, his fists clenched at his sides.

  “What the hell, Roland? You know I wanted Russell to be on Jules while she’s here. He knows her, and I trust him implicitly with her. What the fuck?”

  Roland finally turns his attention away from his phone. “I needed him to take care of a few things for me back at the stadium.” Roland waves his hand in my direction. “Obviously she got here in one piece. Mac is very capable of handling things.”

  “If I had wanted Mac to handle things, I wouldn’t have put Russell on her detail. You know how these fans can be.” Dash rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration.

  “And you know that you and this band are my top priority, not your girlfriend at the moment. And like I said, she’s fine and Mac is capable.”

  Dash gets toe to toe with Roland, anger evident in his eyes. His chest is rising and falling heavily. Roland doesn’t seem to be concerned like any other normal man would be. Dash looks as though he could tear him apart at any moment.

  I step forward and put my hand on Dash’s heaving chest. “Dash, baby, I’m fine. Look at me, please?”

  Dash’s gaze sends a few more daggers into Roland before he squeezes them shut and turns them to me. The anger that was just in them has evaporated minutely. “I’m fine.”

  “That’s not the point. Next time, Russell stays with her.” Dash points to Roland as his other arm wraps around my shoulders and pulls me into his side.

  With a dismissive wave, Roland answers, “Fine. Fine. But like I already said, you and this band are my top priority, not her.” And then he goes right back to his phone.

  He lurches forward, but I press a hand against his chest as Lance grabs his shoulder. “It’s all good, man. Russell will be on it from now on.”

  Dash nods, watching Roland walk away. His turns me around, looking down at me over and over just to make sure I’m really okay. Once he’s looked me over several times, relief gathers in his eyes. “If anything ever…” his soft voice trails off. His hands grip my hips, pulling me into his body, his lips easily and instantly finding mine. I melt into him, running my hands up his back and then finally weaving my fingers in his messy locks, tugging slightly. He moans into my mouth, causing my body to vibrate in response. I might have moaned too.

  “You two need to get a fucking room. We don’t need to see this shit,” Vic announces, his voice not as playful as before. It looks like he’s kind of pouting.

  I suddenly feel terrible about our PDA because when I look at Val, her look mirrors his. I can’t help but wonder if there’s something more there. I know Val is extremely professional and would never jeopardize her career over a man; she’s said as much herself. But still, I can’t keep the thought out of my head that maybe my best friend is falling for the drummer.

  I pull away from Dash just as the photographer enters the room, and of course it’s a she, and she’s beautiful. Are all women in Rome beautiful, or is it just me?

  “Okay, okay, I need the three of you to stand on the white backdrop. Santino, check the lighting for me, please, and hurry. Grazie,” the photographer orders.

  She walks passed me and Val, ignoring us, which is fine with me; at least she’s not eyeing me. She then grabs a camera out of one of her assistant’s hands and walks toward the guys.

  “Um, let me see. I need you. Vic, is it?” she begins, and Vic nods. “Good. I need you on the left and Lance on the right. Dash, innamorato, right there in the middle. Perfecto,” she commands.

  The guys look a little tense and unsure as to what to do at first, especially Dash. As much as he loves being on stage and how much he feels at home on it in the spotlight, I don’t think being the center of attention in a photo shoot is for him. That’s something our worlds have in common.

  “Adrianna, please cue the music. I think our boys need some inspiration,” she asks another assistant.

  “Si, Francesca,” she replies, scurrying to the stereo, and hits play.

  The room is filled with the sounds of some rock band, I assume. Screeching guitars and thumping drums flow out of the speakers. The guys seem to recognize it and begin lip syncing to it, smiles wide on their faces.

  “That’s better. Okay, just go with it and we will see what we get, okay?” Francesca says, her camera in position as she readies herself to take their picture.

  The guys are really getting into it, acting serious at times and other times completely goofy. Francesca encourages them to continue with their antics, saying she’s capturing the real them. I can’t help but smile like the proud girlfriend I am. Dash catches me doing so, and he smiles brightly in my direction.

  “Dash, that’s perfecto. Keep that look right there, don’t move,” Francesca encourages.

  I can’t help but blush because his look is because of me.

  “Okay, I think we have all of the shots I need. Angelo, send in the girls,” Francesca calls to another assistant in the back of the studio.

  He goes through the doorway Val and I came through to find the studio. When he returns, he has following behind him the gaggle of scantily clad lingerie-wearing models with him. My stomach drops and my heart lurches into my throat. I now know why they are here and why they are giggling. A couple of them point to Dash.

  “Sì, perfetto. Stare in giro la band. Avvicinarsi. Okay?” Francesca rambles off in Italian.

  Val nudges me and whispers, “What did she just say?”

  I lean into her. “She told the models to get near the guys.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh.” A gnarly feeling starts to take up residence in my stomach, twisting and turning.

  The group of models sashays their way over to the guys. A couple surround Vic and Lance while the other four surround Dash.

  “Perfecto. Adrianna, music please,” Francesca calls out.

  The music starts again, and Francesca starts clicking and giving direction to the guys and the models. “Okay, Bianca, Eva, Gabriella, and Margherita, mettere le sue mani su Dash,” Francesca tells the four models surrounding Dash.

  “What now?” I really wish Val understood Italian and I didn’t.

  “Just… just watch… you’ll understand soon enough…” Just as I do now unfortunately.

  W
ithout hesitation, the four beauties place their hands on Dash, smoothing their hands against him, moving them slightly as they do. Dash instantly stiffens and his face loses color. His eyes look all around the room, noticeably avoiding me unlike before. Is he getting excited having these women paw him? Oh my God, what if he is? What if their touch… No. NO. He loves me. Only me. And if his body is responding, it’s only because he’s a man. What man wouldn’t?

  “It doesn’t mean anything, Jules.” I swear Val is a mind reader.

  “I know.”

  “Good.”

  “Dash, what’s wrong?” Francesca asks as she notices his gaze has finally landed on me.

  “Merda. Okay. I need you two to leave. You are becoming a distraction,” Francesca demands as she turns in our direction, her finger pointed mainly at me.

  “Well, I’m their PR rep, so I’m staying,” Val points out.

  “Fine. You need to go, though. I won’t have anything or anyone jeopardize my shoot. Clear?” Francesca concedes to Val’s request but not giving in to me.

  “Wait. I’m sorry, it won’t be an issue. Jules can stay,” Dash interjects. The four models shot daggers in my direction.

  “I can’t take that chance, Dash. We are on a time crunch as it is, and I don’t need to keep stopping because some girl you’re seeing isn’t too thrilled with my vision,” Francesca responds.

  “Dash, it’s okay. I’ll just wait in the next room,” I acquiesce.

  Dash gives me a nod, and the four models hold him a little tighter while smirking at me. I give him my best “I’m cool with it” smile and make my way toward the other room—alone.

  I sit down, feeling defeated. I didn’t think it would bother me to be sent out, but it cuts into me deeper than I realized. Before I can wallow alone too long, I hear heels clacking against the tile. Great, now one of those skinny bitches is going to be in here too. When I look up, it isn’t a skinny bitch, it’s Val. She squats down in front of me, taking my hand in hers. “It’s just a photo shoot, Jules. It doesn’t mean anything,” she tells me, trying ease my troubled mind.

  “I know. It’s just that… it’s just after what happened with the limo, and now this. I just don’t feel like I fit in at times, and maybe Dash and I aren’t meant to do this. I mean, I do feel a very, very strong connection to him, it’s just that I wonder how strong it really is and if it can weather what is starting to happen. There are going to be many other girls and women, hundreds, thousands of them that want a piece of him. What if one of them can offer something I can’t? What if I’m not enough and he needs something more, something from one of them?” I fully open up to her, my tears spilling forth.

  “Oh, honey, come here,” Val soothingly says, pulling me into an embrace.

  As she smooths her hand down my hair and back, she continues, “Listen, I know you and Dash have only been together for a short time and there are a lot of things, female fans in particular, that are coming at you from all directions. But from what I’ve seen, you have a very strong effect on Dash. Did you not see and understand the expression on his face when Francesca asked you to leave? Did you not see his immediate reaction to those girls putting their hands on him? He was perfectly fine, perfectly at ease prior to them entering the room. Jules, you have to fully believe in him and you; if you don’t, you definitely won’t have a chance. He loves you and only you. Whenever you’re in the same room with him, the man can only see you. And the times I’ve been around him when you weren’t there, all he talks about is you.”

  Val pulls away and looks me dead in the eyes. “I know you’re still somewhat insecure and think you’re damaged, and I know you’re working on it and have made such great progress in such a short amount of time. But you have to realize you have something those girls don’t, Jules; you have Dash completely. Remember that.”

  I simply nod.

  “No. No more crying. You’ll make your eyes puffy and that’s not a good look for you, okay?” she teases, wiping my tear-streaked face with her delicate fingers.

  “Thanks, Val,” I whisper.

  “Anytime, babe, anytime.” As she stands up and pulls me up with her and gives me a sisterly hug, the models enter and walk past, blabbering away in Italian. I catch pieces of what they are saying. They can’t believe how much hotter Dash is in person, they wonder how serious he can really be about me, and they bet it will be over before it even begins. I feel the weight of their words press on me.

  “Jules, nothing they said means anything. They’re just being catty, jealous bitches, okay?”

  “I’ll try and remember that.” The girls continue on into another room, their shrill-like voices dying out as they go.

  Val smiles at me, and I suddenly feel arms wrap around my waist. “Sorry about that. God, it was torture having them touch me and not you,” Dash whispers in my ear. I feel my cheeks flush, and my whole entire body breaks out in goose bumps.

  Val nudges me. “I gave them my best bitch, ‘I’ll kick your ass’ eye the entire time before I came in here. They were tame,” Val whispers in my other ear.

  “Thanks, Val,” I respond.

  “Anytime, bitch, I’ve got your back,” she teases, bumping her hip with mine.

  “Okay, so we need to get you guys back to the stadium for rehearsals. We’ll see you there, okay?” Val says to the guys.

  “Sure, we’ll see you there,” Lance responds, grabbing a drink from the minibar.

  “Come on, twinkle toes, let’s get this show back on the road. I don’t want my fucking picture taken any more,” Vic bellows, pulling Lance with him, Val following behind.

  Dash turns me around, his hands still gripping my waist. “You can ride with us, if you want?” he asks.

  “No, it’s okay. I’ll ride back with Val. I’ll see you there,” I tell him.

  He looks somewhat disappointed but nods his understanding. I need some more girl time and talk before we head back to the chaos that I’m sure is waiting outside the dock entrance. Dash leans down and his lips ghost mine before I feel the full force of them. I part my lips and welcome his tongue with mine. His hand snakes up and wraps around the nape of my neck, pushing me closer to him. Our tongues play and explore each other, and I feel this kiss right down to my toes. He pulls away, and we are both panting.

  “Come on… they’re probably wondering what happened to us,” he says, his breathing evening out. I nod, and we leave the studio behind.

  AFTER NAVIGATING THROUGH the sea of still-present female fans outside the stadium, Dash and the guys finally take the stage and begin rehearsing. My ears are immediately assaulted by the sexy grittiness of his voice as he starts to sing. My iPod has not done him justice. Hearing Dash sing live is otherworldly. My thoughts can only think of one thing, and that is jumping him and having my way with him. There is just something about his stage presence and his singing voice that sends my libido into hyper-drive. I feel my stomach muscles tighten, and the ache between my thighs deepens. I definitely need to start carrying around a change of panties.

  I am lost in my own world, consumed with doing naughty things to and with Dash, when a cat-like purr comes up from behind me, breaking my Dash-induced trance.

  “Hmmmmm. He is phenomenal when he’s onstage. That’s not to say he isn’t offstage as well.” Nadia slinks closer to me while licking her lips as she stares at Dash. “Oh, but you probably already know that?” she continues, eyeing me up and down, sizing me up.

  I am beginning to feel extremely uncomfortable in her presence. I feel totally underdressed and out of place. Her beauty dwarfs my commonness, making me feel insignificant and unworthy in this new world. My comfort zone is nowhere to be found, and I just want the floor to break apart and open, swallowing me up.

  “You can speak, can’t you?” she challenges me, her hands placed firmly on her small, curvy hips.

  “Yes, I can. Um, I thought you were here with Roland?” I question, my voice somewhat shaky. This woman continues to make me feel nervous, and it�
��s killing me that she has this power over me.

  “Awww, what a child-like voice you have. Dash must make you role-play because of it. Maybe he’s the babysitter and you’re the little girl who won’t go to bed? Hmmm? My Dash enjoys good role playing from time to time. Oh, and Roland, he’s just a distraction for the moment,” she teases, waving my comment off.

  I simply stare at her, stunned. I suddenly wish Val or Tracy were by my side. They would know exactly what to say to this bitch and put her in her place. Unfortunately, they aren’t at the moment, and I am at a loss for words.

  “Don’t worry, honey. Dash will tire of you soon enough. You are, after all, he’s newest plaything. But he will get bored, and when that happens I’ll be there to take really good care of him, promise,” Nadia informs me as she pretends to cross her heart like she’s a goddamn girl scout or something.

  Before I can even respond, before my mouth can catch up with my brain, Nadia slinks away into the shadows, her hips sashaying, driving home her point. I just continue to stand there unable to move, unable to do anything. Her words “when he tires of you” echo in my head.

  Blake’s face flashes in my mind’s eye. I told you so.

  Maybe Nadia’s right. Maybe what I feel for Dash isn’t mutual, even though he’s said those three beautiful words every woman longs to hear. Maybe I don’t fit in his world. Maybe? I know I don’t fit. Many more maybes bombard me as my vision becomes blurry and Dash’s voice becomes a distant sound in the background.

  I turn and leave the side stage area, finding solace in the shadows. It’s always one step forward, two steps back. Just when I think I’m not so damaged anymore, that I’m actually only a little cracked, something lets me know otherwise. This time, this something is Nadia. With each step I take, my tears threaten to overtake me and spill forth. I wrap my arms around my torso trying to hold myself together, and I begin to feel my heart and my world crack.

  I FEEL MYSELF slowly giving in to the emotional storm that is building inside me. I try my damnedest to keep it at bay. I really don’t want to have a meltdown right here, right now. I’m in Italy with Dash and everything should be sunshine and kittens, but that woman—that skank, that bitch—has totally thrown me for a loop. Her comments, combined with what those models said, are ever present in my mind, playing over and over as if a record is skipping.