by Regina Frame
We all took a moment to grab something to drink and a fresh towel to wipe some of the sweat away before heading in to the next room. I was sure we all smell like funk, but the groupies couldn’t care less. We could probably roll around in shit and they'd still offer to suck our dick, just so they could say they did it. We walked in to the next room and took our seat at the long table they had provided us.
Honor had been amazing tonight. It was obvious the crowd loved her. I'd noticed guys in the crowd move closer to the stage in order to get a better look at her. It didn't matter that they were there with their women. The women didn't seem to notice, because they were too busy throwing their underwear onstage. It was fucking crazy!
I stared down at the headshot that had been provided of Honor. She was sitting on the hood of that sports car with her bass guitar nestled between her creamy thighs, her tongue licking the neck of her guitar. As long as I lived, that image of her would forever be tattooed on my brain. She was fucking hot, and I didn't like the idea of all these shithead men taking one home and jerking off while fanaticizing about fucking her. I didn't like that at all.
***
Honor
It was one of my first meet and greets after a show. To play on stage in front of thousands of people was insane! I was really kind of nervous about this, and even though the guys have kind of filled me in on what normally took place during the greet, I still worried about how some fans reacted when face to face with these guys. I'd read horror stories about fans fighting with each other out of jealousy, or when a crazy fan reached the stalker zone.
Jinx told me that it was a critical part in winning over the fans. They got the chance to see that we were real people just like they were.
In the signing room, there were two tables set end to end with individual headshots placed in front of our assigned chairs along with group shots. Jinx told me that a lot of the fans would bring their own items, such as CD covers and tee shirts, and Levi said that it never failed that they were asked to sign a body part. I was not sure that was something that I'd be comfortable doing, although I was sure the guys lived for it.
Grabbing the bottom of my tank top, I gave it a couple of shakes to cool my overheated skin. I was dripping with sweat from the bright lights, and my shirt looked as if I'd been shrink wrapped in it.
"Careful there, Sparkles. You go on flashing that skin, I can't be held responsible for my actions. You know I'm a weak man when it comes to you," Chance teased, his tongue snaking out to lick his lips and tug at that damn lip ring I loved so much.
I rolled my eyes and took a seat in my designated area.
***
"You're such a slut." I tossed out after the groping fan walked away from the signing table.
I knew that was all a part of it. They guys flirted and played it up for the female fans, but she'd all but sucked him off right there in front of everyone. What was even more nuts was that the same woman moved on to Levi and pulled the same shit with him. These women had no shame.
Chance narrowed his eyes and smirked.
"You're just jealous," he accused, and I couldn’t help but laugh sarcastically.
Maybe a little. Okay. A lot!
"Of what? All the STDs you're exposed to?" He arched a brow as if to remind me that I'd been there, too. Freakin great! Just like a damn groupie. "I'd rather not have a tit shoved in my face." Just as I was about to continue my rant, a beautiful blonde with big blue eyes thrusted her over inflated chest in his face. She practically popped her tit out and asked him to sign it, which, of course, he was more than happy to do. Asshole.
"My name is Brandi." She leaned in, giving us all a view of her store bought boobs. "Call me later if you want to have some fun."
She slid him a folded up piece of paper across the table. If I had to guess, I'd say it had her phone number and all the positions she liked. Maybe even her measurements.
"I'm really flexible. Years of gymnastics," she told him, earning her a wink. When he opened his mouth to respond, I interrupted.
"Sandi, was it?" Her overly plucked brows dipped, and she blinked.
"It's Brandi," she snapped at me, and I heard Chance chuckle at my side.
"Oh. Right. Mandi. There's not enough penicillin in the world to cure what he's got," I joked.
Chance snorted that time, clearly amused with my comment.
"It's Brandi." She huffed before standing up straight and smoothing down the front of her low cut blouse.
She turned her attention back to Chance, completely unfazed by what I'd just said.
"Call me."
She smiled, flashing her bleached teeth before turning back to me with a scowl, shaking my head in disbelief as she made her way over to Levi. These women would probably let them stick their dick in every hole just to brag about it later.
Chance leaned in with his lips pressed against my ear so that only I could hear. "Green doesn't look good on you, Sparkles."
My eyes snapped to his in surprise. Did he just accuse me of being jealous? Jealous of the damn groupie whores who followed these guys from city to city? Damn him! Maybe I was a little jealous, but I wasn't about to admit it.
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," I hissed.
"You totally rocked it out there," a voice cracked, getting my attention, at the same time rescuing Chance from my bitchiness.
A pimply faced guy that looked maybe to be fifteen or sixteen at the most was grinning back at me. Shit. I think he even had braces on his teeth. When he smiled again, it was confirmed. Braces. And they weren’t even the clear ones. They were the silver bands on the teeth with different colored rubber bands. Poor guy.
"Thanks! That means a lot." I gave him my best smile and reached for one of my photos to autograph. "Who should I make this out to?"
"Lucas," he stuttered, probably because he was nervous. "Hey. Can I get a picture with you?" he asked eagerly, lifting his phone for me to see.
I told myself that it was another opportunity to win the fans, so I put down my silver sharpie that I'd been using to sign my name with, pushed my chair back, and walked around the table, not even thinking about what could happen.
In the blink of an eye, it was total chaos and I was now trapped right in the middle of it. Fans began pushing and shoving, and the next thing I knew, my head bounced off the hard cement floor. I tried my hardest to get up, but someone stepped on my hand, causing me to scream in pain. My heart thundered in my chest, and my vision became blurry. Suddenly, the sea of people parted and two strong tattooed arms lifted me from the floor, cradling me against his broad chest.
I was so scared that I was practically shaking with each ragged breath I took, and I was drenched wet with sweat. I was pretty sure if I were standing, I would pass out. That all too familiar feeling was washing through my body. The beginnings of a panic attack, and rightly so.
After a bit, my breathing began to even out and my heart rate slowed. Slowly, I began to come around. The warm body and the spicy scent of the man that I'd come to care so much about calmed me. Made me feel warm and safe. With gentle fingers, he began to stroke my hair, letting the damp strands slip from his fingers.
"It's okay. You're safe," he whispered in my ear before placing a kiss on the side of my head.
It was such a tender gesture on his part. Nothing like the man who just rocked the stage for thousands of screaming fans. That is the man who stole my heart a few months ago. The man who did everything he could to make me happy when the doctor grounded me from traveling at the holidays. The big bad tattooed rock star who made time for abused children to make them feel special.
"Babe, you can't do that," he stressed. "Fans get crazy excited when they get close to us, and when you put a hundred of them in a room together, they don't think about what they're doing." He shifted me on his lap, so that he could see my face. "They've got one thing on their mind, and that's to touch us." He chuckled and shook his head. "I had a girl rip the shirt off my back one night right af
ter a show. Hell. I was at the liquor store staring at a rack of wine when out of nowhere a woman jumped on my back. She climbed me like a damn tree." By then, he was laughing so hard that his whole body was shaking. "It took three of their store clerks to peel her off me. You can believe I'm not letting that shit happen again. We're lucky security got the crowd under control when they did." He paused a moment and took a deep breath. When we finally stopped laughing, he said, "You had me worried. Really worried."
"I wasn't thinking. He just looked so hopeful, and I couldn't tell him no. He looked harmless," I explained.
"And he probably was, but you never know. Your safety is now my number one priority. From now on, I'm not letting you out of my sight," he promised, a cocky grin on his face.
"I kind of like that idea," I admitted, giving him a seductive smile. He wiggled his brows suggestively, causing me to giggle.
"How's your hand, babe?"
I wiggled my fingers, and winced when the pain shot through my hand.
"We should probably get that looked at," Jinx said from across the room.
I hadn't even noticed that he was in the room, but they all were. Sitting around the table in the middle of the room. They were obviously giving us some space.
"I'm sorry, guys. You should go back in there. I'm okay," I said, and wobbled a little as I tried to stand up.
Luckily, Chance was there once again. His hands moved to my hips and pulled me right back down onto his lap. I felt light headed for a whole other reason.
When Jinx said that we were going to pass on going to The Vault to celebrate, I couldn't let that happen. I'd already screwed up the meet and greet. I wasn't about to let him cancel our night out. These guys worked hard, and they deserved a night to let loose. I was feeling better, and I'd have to admit that after what just happened, I needed a night out, too.
So after a visit to the emergency room and proof from the doctor that nothing was broken, we piled into the back of a waiting black SUV while the paparazzi shouted questions and snapped pictures. We headed for the hotel to shower and get out of the sweaty clothes.
***
Security was waiting for us when the limo rolled to a stop in front of The Vault. It was a brand new club, and judging by the crowd waiting to get in, it was one of the more popular ones on the strip. The multi-story building was painted a crisp white, the large windows across the front were outlined by the soft glow of white lights, and on top of the building were several huge lights crisscrossing on the waiting crowd below.
There was a ton of paparazzi and screaming fans behind the roped off barrier separating us from them. When we stepped out of the limo the crowd erupted in cheers, and I was temporally blinded by the flash of cameras and cell phones.
Chance pressed his hand at the small of my back with just enough pressure, as if to say ‘I got you’, and guided me past the shouting fans and toward the security entrance of the club.
"Honor! Honor, over here. Are you alright? We heard there was an incident after the show. Can you tell us what happened? Is it true that some fan wrestled you to the ground?"
Questions were being shouted from every direction, making it really hard to tell who asked which question. I honestly didn’t know how some stars dealt with that day in and day out, because all I could see at the moment were black spots in front of my eyes. It was a little overwhelming if I were being honest.
Even though I grew up around celebrities, my father never took me to events. He wanted to keep me out of the craziness, he used to say.
I would have liked nothing more than to find the prick that just hurled that question at me and tell him that he needed to get his facts straight before he went printing stuff like that. But, my guess was that he'd print whatever he wanted no matter what I told him.
My fingers dug in to Chance's bicep as I tried to steady myself. Blinking several times in an attempt to clear my vision so that I didn’t fall flat on my face. A tattooed arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me snugly against his side.
"You'll get used to it." He leaned in and presses a kiss to my temple. That, of course, caught the attention of half the people around us as cameras flashed and questions were thrown out. He either didn’t realize that one kiss in the public eye would probably make the front cover of all the entertainment and gossip rags for the coming weeks, or he just didn’t care. Probably the later.
"Chance, you and Honor seem pretty cozy lately. Are you guys together?" That was asked by a short, round man wearing a pair of corduroy pants while thrusting a huge microphone in our direction. And here we go.
I looked to Chance for his response, but he kept his head down, avoiding the reporters. With determination in his steps, he ushered me inside and up the lighted staircase to the V.I.P. section on the second floor.
We were led to a roped off section that was reserved for our group. There were beautiful white leather sectionals with glass top tables, and our own personal bar area. I bet that was how they were treated everywhere they went. People falling at their feet to please them. I also imagine the club would gain from advertising that we partied there, just like Jinx said earlier.
“I'll get us something to drink," Chance offered. "Or do you prefer gummy bears if they have them?" he joked.
I, on the other hand, didn't find anything funny about that statement, so I flipped him off before turning away from him to watch the gyrating bodies on the dance floor below. The beat of the music had me moving my hips, swaying them back and forth when strong hands gripped my waist from behind and warm lips pressed against my neck. Lighting all of my nerve endings on fire. Lifting my arms, I wrapped them around the back of Chance's neck and pressed my backside against his already hard dick.
"Somebody needs to be fucked," he whispered in my ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine, all the way to my toes.
"I don't know what you're talking about." My breath hitched when his wet tongue licked a trail from my neck to just behind my ear. "You think you can read minds?"
"No." I could feel the smirk of his lips against the bare skin of my collar bone, making me smile. "I can read your body, Sparkles. The way your nipples pebble beneath the thin cotton of your tee shirt." He buried his face in my hair and inhaled a deep breath. "Mmm … you smell good enough to eat. Would you like that, Sparkles? If I spread you out right here on this table and feasted on you for everyone to see?"
"Yes," I whispered, pushing my backside against his hard length in a silent plea for relief. His tattooed hands moved up my side and stopped just beneath my aching breasts.
Holding my breath, I waited for him to continue. The thought of him touching me, pleasuring me in front of everyone there, turned me on, which surprised me. I'd never been an exhibitionist when it came to sex.
"I love the way you clench your thighs." A low growl rumbled in his chest. "Just the way you're doing right now." His fingers slid just beneath the waist band of my jeans. "Your body is so responsive to me. It's as if we were made for each other," he said, his breath tickling my ear.
There was a persistent throb that had started between my legs, and if he didn’t take me somewhere soon and take care of it for me, I'd have to take matters into my own hands. Literally.
"Chance!" a female voice chimed, causing his body to stiffen against mine.
No! No! No! Just when things were getting good.
"Mary Jane." He grinned.
That name caught my attention. The very name that he had tattooed onto his side. Her chocolate brown hair hung in loose curls around her shoulders, and a light dusting of freckles hi-lighted her high cheekbones. If it weren't bad enough that he had her name tattooed on his side, her beautiful face and killer curves twisted that knife a little deeper in my heart. Her eyes slid from Chance to me. She looked me over from head to toe, and her mouth pulled into a thin line. That told me everything I needed to know. Mary Jane was a jealous bitch with a capital B.
"I'm sorry." Her head cocked to the side. "I don't mean to interru
pt, but it's been so long since I've seen you!" she beamed, looking up at Chance with a big smile.
"You're not interrupting," Chance replied, wrapping her in a hug. "Are you here with the guys?"
What the hell? I didn’t even wait around for her answer. It was obvious the two of them had some type of history.
"I need a drink," I mumbled as I turned toward the bar.
"I brought you a drink." He pointed to the watered down drinks he'd placed on a table behind us.
"Yeah." I lifted my chin and forced the biggest smile that I could muster up at the moment. "I have a feeling I'm going to need something stronger."
I could've stayed and listened to their conversation, but I decided that it was best for all of us, especially her, that I put some distance there. He could handle whatever that was, and maybe he'd confide in me later, or not. At that moment, I really didn’t care.
There were almost as many people upstairs as there were on the dance floor below. I managed to find one empty stool at the bar, so I planted myself there and ordered the biggest foo foo drink they had. I was just finishing it off when a beefy bicep appeared next to me. Lifting my eyes, I found myself face to face with one hot male specimen. He was all muscles and tanned skin. His long brown hair hung beneath his broad shoulders, he had the most amazing gray eyes, and there was the deepest dimple in his chin.
"I'll take a Bud, and another one of those for this beautiful lady," he told the guy behind the bar.
"Oh no. I probably shouldn't . . . "
Before I could finish my sentence, the corners of his perfect lips curled, revealing perfect white teeth. Damn.
"I'm Jax," he said as he slid onto the stool that had just opened up beside me.
"Honor." Shit. I could feel myself blushing. Picking up my drink napkin, I waved it a couple of times in front of my face in an attempt to cool down. He arched a knowing brow. I was sure he was probably used to that type of reaction from women all the time. "It's the alcohol," I told him with a quick nod, earning me another flash of his dimples. Where the hell was Chance?
