I can hear a bunch of noise coming into the bus deep voices speaking over the next. But I can’t see anyone, Stacy’s standing right in my line of sight. Grabbing my hand again he pulls me in tow into the living room. Where stands all four band members and two rather slutty women in tight clothes and breasts about to fall out of their glittery tops. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at them.
“Hey Stacy we weren’t disturbing you and your guest were we?” the man I recognize as the drummer asks him with a wink.
Stacy chokes like he’s got something caught in his throat. Man am I that terrible to think he’d sleep with me? I let go of his hand. He’s offended me. Some best friend he is.
“No guys this is Emily. My new Co road manager.”
“Assistant.” I chime in.
“You hired a chick to work with us?” Johnathan the lead singer asks him. I swear it’s like I am not even in the damn room right now. Fucking men.
“Yes. I did. I told you guys that, if you would have listened to me. I’ve known Em nearly my whole life and she will be helping me wrangle the four of you.” He points to them all one by one.
Johnathan chuckles and I’m insulted again. Jesus can this introduction get any worse?
“She’s just a kid. Look at her, how she could help?” he looks me up and down like I am the worst thing he’s ever laid eyes on. “Does she even know the first thing about being our manager? Or Co manager? Whatever the fuck.” Johnathan says his tone sticky with acid.
Man, he is a dick. What did I ever do to him? I’ve just met the damn guy and he already thinks I am too young and inexperienced. Fuck that. Fuck him! Not literally.
“I’m twenty four for your information and I am standing right here. If you have something to ask me you can talk to my face. It would be most appreciated. And yes I have some experience. I graduated NYU with a bachelors in Public Relations. I think I can handle it.” I sass.
Man, I’m being a total bitch. But I refuse to be treated like some half ass woman because I’m short, look young and have a vagina.
“Oh she told you.” The one guitarist chuckled. Then the entire band laughs and Stacy looks at me like I just hit him in the face with a book. I shrug. He should know me well enough to know I will not be treated less than I deserve. Hello, that’s why I stay single. Men are just a cluster fuck waiting to happen. Man, I have a trucker’s mouth. Well my dad is a trucker so I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
“Listen short stack.” Johnathan says taking a step towards me. Standing nearly toe-to-toe. Hot damn he’s tall and well I’m short. But he’s got to be taller than my dad maybe six five or maybe he just appears that way because his body is so built.
“What?” I add placing my hand on my hip. Yep that’s right I’m a badass. A short one but I can hang in the big leagues. Bring it on you big misogynistic ass-wipe. I can’t help but crack a crude smirk.
“If you come and stay here, living on a bus with a bunch of dudes. You’ve got to get one thing straight. We have cocks. We fuck hot chicks, drink, fuck some more and we’re loud and sloppy. If you can’t handle it I suggest you hop the next flight back to wherever it is you came from and go back to your little sweet life with puppy dogs and cracker jacks.”
Stacy and the rest of the band are watching this whole damn thing play out. I am half tempted to cry because he is being so mean. But I suck it up and I am so down with this. If he wants to be a dick I will show him I can take it. I’m no weak woman. Bring it on!
I take another step forward. I can smell him. He smells so damn good like cigarettes, spicy cologne and sweat. What a heady combo. Yum. Oh no! I better stop that right now. I hate this prick! Remember that Em!
“Listen.” I blurt firmly with an attitude and poke him in the chest hard with my finger. Oh my god! It’s like this man is made of rock. Not rock and roll but the sedimentary kind. “I don’t care who or what you fuck. I’m not here to play mommy. I’m here to do my job. Which frankly I know I can do and I WILL be good at. Just because I don’t have a penis doesn’t mean I can’t do this. Be as loud and party as hard as you want. That’s your MO, not mine. Now get the fuck out of my way so I can go get my luggage and join your sorry ass on this bus.” I push him again and he doesn’t move so I slide out beside him and out the bus door I go. I am so pissed I think I could spit. On him would be even better.
Stacy comes running out of the bus behind me.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he demands just as he grabs my arm and pulls me against him. I looked up into his lovely blue eyes. He’s blazing mad.
“You’re shitting me right? You let him talk to me that way and expect me to bend over and take it up the ass?” I push him away and follow the path out to the parking lot.
I snatch up my bag out of the back and roll it back to the bus where Stacy is outside waiting for me.
“I’m sorry.” He says and sounds like he means it.
“For what part?” I sass, letting go of my bag and crossing my arms over my chest.
“All of it. Johnathan might me right you’re not cut out for this lifestyle. I have been so desperate to find someone to help so I can go see my mom, that I didn’t think about what you’d have to deal with here.“ He gestures with his head toward the bus. Blonde hair falls into his face. He pushes is back and tucks a few strands behind his ears.
“I maybe a book reading, coffee drinking, quiet gal most of the time Stacy. But I can do this. Johnathan doesn’t scare me. I can handle a dick head. I spent months with a boss trying to fuck me. I think I can handle four rock stars and my best friend. I’m here as much for you as I am for myself. I have to prove to myself that I accomplish something this challenging. Stop worrying about me and just let me do my damn job. Just promise to keep me from sweaty boobs pressing against my back is all I ask.” I chuckle and give me a sympathetic smile.
I know Stacy has been going through a lot with his mom’s diagnosis and it’s progressing rapidly. The last time we spoke on the phone he was terrified that he wouldn’t be able to see her again before she forgot about him. I don’t know what I would do in his position it’s a real hard one. His mom was abusive or that’s what I would call it. She calls it parenting. I call bullshit. But she’s all he’s ever had. I was lucky enough to have a mom and dad my whole life. Pretty awesome ones at that.
Going into the bus I take a shower in the standup stall. The black and white bathroom is stuffed with tons of male products. Whoever thought men don’t use as much products as women are full of shit. Hair gel, a blow-dryer, deodorant, colognes. A bunch of nudy magazines are tucked into the chrome wall magazine holder along with a few sports illustrated and game informer. Not to forget the icing on the cake that’s sitting on the floor in front of the vanity, it’s a huge box of condoms and when I say huge I don’t mean like a twenty pack. I’m talking a Costco size box of Trojans. If they screw that much maybe they should do a commercial for Trojan. I might have to look into that.
I only wish I knew more about men and why they do the things they do. They are weird creatures. I grew up with my mom and me, with my dad out of on the road a lot. It was all flowers, makeup, manicures, chick flicks, cooking and books. I never learned about sports or cars or anything manly. Except from Stacy who schooled me more about sex and football than I’d never need to know.
Standing with a towel wrapped around me the door to the bathroom flies open.
“What the hell!” I yell and look who is it the drummer all ready to go out for the night.
“Sorry.” He smiles totally checking me out. I pull my towel tighter around me.
“It’s okay.” No it’s not but I want to be polite to him. Thankfully he didn’t get a full show. A towel doesn’t matter. Does it?
“Hey D, you get em man?” I hear somebody say. I think its Price.
“Yeah I’m getting them. The lady we’re living with is in here. Give me sex. I mean sec.” He laughs eyeing me. “I need those.” He points to the box of condoms.<
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I blush fifty shades of red and turn to the side for him to retrieve them.
“Thanks.” He says exiting the bath with a giant handful of the Trojans. “I got em. Let’s hit it.” He says to someone other than me.
I get ready to step out of the bath towel fully intact and he comes back and pops his head in.
“You coming tonight Bella?” he asks.
I shake my head yes “But I’m Emily.”
“I know that. But you are beautiful.” He runs his eyes up and down me again, licks his lips and ducts out again. Thank the lord. My hearts beating fifty miles an hour. Close quarters with rockers is going to be harder than I thought.
Chapter Three
Pulling up outside Club 9 with Stacy and our bodyguard chauffer James, who looks like a beefier vision of Taylor Lautner. The outside of the club is packed with groupies, the same sleazy sluts that were at the concert. Yuck. But I know I have to get used to seeing this. It isn’t going to be the first or last time I am stuck viewing boobs and pussies from a distance. As long as they don’t touch me I’m going to be okay. Or I hope.
Stacy grabs my hand and escorts me from the black tinted window Mercedes. I love riding in style. But I love driving my truck even more. I have a black 80’s version suburban I ride around in back home in Indiana. Well it’s my dad’s now that I don’t live at home but I still love it and I refuse to let him sell it. So it sits in our barn collecting dust.
Pushing through the mass of people. James leads the way and gently nudges anyone in our path. I might have to buy him a fruit basket one of these days.
“You look very nice.” Stacy compliments once we get inside.
I’m glad he finally approves of my outfit. I went a little out of my comfort zone and threw on a pair of faded jeans that hug rather tightly against my big butt and a fitted pink t-shirt which now gives a full view of my arm tattoo. Yes, nobody would have guessed little short straight-laced Em would have a tattoo. But I do, I have four actually. My right arm is half sleeved down to my elbow with flowers and a few other intricate details. All done in full color. I sat over thirty hours for that one. I have a small cupcake on the top of my left foot, a tramp stamp on my lower back that I got when I was eighteen. And a small butterfly on my left hipbone that burned so bad when I got it done that I’ll never ever get another tattoo on my stomach area again.
The club is to capacity. It’s huge, wall-to-wall with people. The floor is like black lacquer and the ceiling is industrial full of colorful lights. The bar wraps around the entire east wall and it’s black too. Music is loud and a mix of modern jams. I spot Johnathan instantly only because that’s where most of the women are flocking to. I can’t blame them. He’s easily six five, built like a brick shit house, tattoos sleeve his arms and I’m sure other places too. His hair is dark brown spiked into a short faux hawk. Big lips and has green eyes similar to mine. Dreamy as all get out. And what do you know we have our own little group of sexy women headed our way. Yep, Stacy’s hot too.
“Go get some tail.” I lean over and utter into his ear, smacking him hard on the ass.
“I’m not leaving you in here. I learned my lesson.”
“Screw that. I told you Stacy I’m going to have to learn to get down with the party scene. I’ve never done much of it before. But I’ll do it. Now do what you do best and fuck some hot chicks.” I smile.
“You’re the best.” He leans down and kisses me cheek and heads off toward the hoard of women headed straight for us. Cutting them off once he reaches them and wraps his arms around there necks. Tilting his head back he glances over his shoulder to me and mouths ‘thank you’. I wave him off and flash him a big over-the-top smile.
“So you and Stacy really don’t fuck do you?” I hear a voice say next to my ear. I turn and find one of the guitar players of the band talking to me.
“No we don’t. Never have and never will.”
“Names Keith.” He says holding his hand out for me to shake.
“Emily.” I shake it quick and firm.
“Nice to meet you Emily.” He smiles.
Man, his mouth is perfect too. His hair is blonde, lighter than Stacy’s and it’s straight and spiked. His arms are also cloaked in tattoos and so is his neck. Total rock star persona radiates from him. But I’ve never heard Stacy say that he’s a womanizing dick. Like Johnathan. I am sure he screws a lot of women. But at least he hasn’t insulted me. Brownie points for him.
“You too.” I smirk.
“I love your ink.” he brushes the back of his hand over tattoo. Goose bumps rise all over my body head to toe. I haven’t been touched-touched by a man in probably a year. My one and only serious boyfriend ended nearly two years ago and I’ve only ever had sex with him. We dated for a little over eight months and when I found him kissing another woman in a coffee shop on my way to work I broke up with him. He begged me to stay and said he was sorry. But I dumped Chris and ever since I’ve been single. I’ve dated a few times here or there. Set up a couple of times on blind dates. My mom insists I date at least twice a year. So I do for her sake. I’ve kissed a lot of frogs in my life but I’ve never gotten oral or given it. Chris was straight laced and vanilla. We had sex maybe ten times while we were together because we didn’t start until six months in. He was afraid to pop my cherry. Which hurt like a son of a bitch. But after that I loved to have sex. Although ever since I caught him with that other woman I can’t say that I’ve been excited to allow somebody back into my bed or my heart. Stacy’s only been the man in my life next to my dad. I like it that way. He’s strong and he doesn’t try to fuck me. Plus he knows I’ve only ever slept with one man and doesn’t try to pressure me to sleep with others. Our friendship works great. I support his horniness and he supports my lack thereof.
“Thanks.” I say to Keith.
“Want to get a drink?” the blonde guitarist asks.
“Sure.” I gesture with my hand for him to lead the way.
Placing his hand on my elbow he escorts me through the mass of people filling the entire club. I can’t see Stacy anywhere and Johnathan rock star misogynist extraordinaire hasn’t moved. Except now he’s got a big boobed bottled blonde on his lap and his hand is up her plaid skirt. I want to yack.
“So what’ll it be?” A tall brunette bartender asks.
“I’ll have a bud and she’ll have?” Keith looks at me.
“A fuzzy navel double on the schnapps and a shot of tequila with a lemon and some salt.” I rattle off. Keith looks at me like I have two heads. “What?” I shrug.
I know what I want so sue me.
“Make that six tequila shots and all the rest.” He smiles at the beautiful woman. “Oh and put it on Johnathan Strikers tab.” He turns and winks at me. And I can’t help but giggle like a giddy schoolgirl.
It doesn’t take long for the shots to appear in front of us along with salt, a few lemon wedges on a napkin and our other drinks. I lean on the bar and sip out of the tiny straw and Keith chugs his beer.
“So… ready to do some shots?” he winks, slamming his empty beer bottle down on the bar.
“I was born ready.” I wiggle my hips.
“Why don’t you use lime?” he eyes the lemons with a raised brow.
“I hate the taste. It’s nasty. Trust me it’s better with a lemon.” I coax and gently place my hand on his tattooed arm. He looks down upon my hand and back up at me with a giant toothy smile. A surge of electrical energy bursts through me ending not so conveniently between my legs.
I slide him over one shot and the saltshaker and divide the lemons between us. Pushing my hair out of my face. I lick my hand douse it with a shake of salt, lift my shot and he follows suit. We clink our glasses together lick our own hands and fires back the first round of lick, drink, suck. It tingles all the way down firing my belly-up at its destination. I know drinking tequila isn’t the best choice of drink for me because I’ll be sweating like a whore in a church by the end of the night. It warms me up like somet
hing fierce but I LOVE it.
“What do you think of the lemon?”
“It was better than I expected. You have good taste.” He smiles running his hand over my forearm again. Just as somebody from behind grabs a palm full of my ass. I turn to see who the culprit is and somehow Keith already has his hands locked on the man’s bicep. His eyes are huge with fear. I would be too if Keith grabbed me like that.
“You! Will apologize for groping my friend’s ass.” He states rather loudly, his voice is dark and dangerous. Wow, I feel special to have someone stick up for me like this. It’s kind of hot.
“It’s okay Keith.” I touch his chest. Oh my, it’s like a rock too. What the hell is with these men and having rock hard bodies? Johnathan, Stacy and now Keith. I think I might have just died and gone to heaven.
“No it’s not!” he stares daggers at my ass grabber.
“You won’t do it again will you mister?” I ask rather calmly. Although I’ve got hot butterflies tingling in my tummy thanks to this superhot rock star manhandling a guy for me. This is a first.
The man shakes his head without a word and looks like he might piss his pants. I reach over with my hand and take hold of Keith’s removing its firm grip on the man and with my other I shoo the ass grabber off.
“You’re lucky she’s nice asshole because I’ve half tempted to kick your ass.” He shouts giving the ass grabber another menacing look. Damn he’s so hot.
Looking down I realize I haven’t taken my hand off of Keith’s and he’s folding his fingers with mine. Cue the sparks, again. Looking deep into my eyes with a smirk I think he might lean over and kiss me. Shit, I hope he does. I refuse to make the first move. I can’t look like a complete hussy. I’m not one at all for that matter but he doesn’t know that.
“Hey I thought I just heard your ass yelling at some dude. What the fuck was that all about?” Johnathan asks Keith announcing his disappointing appearance. Towing a different girl than before behind him. The brunette is defiantly drunk swaying back and forth on some rather shinny hooker heels and she’s probably hopped up on some coke. Wow this is so not my world. I drop Keith’s hand and he frowns at me.
Stricken Desire Page 2
