Stricken Desire

by S. K. Logsdon

  Now I am standing backstage in a pair of my new clothes the opening act just left the stage. They were so much better than Xtreme Sex from the show in Vegas.

  “See those clothes fit your hotness just fine.” I hear Stacy say to me from behind. I haven’t seen him all night long. Apparently he was busy with the band elsewhere. I hired a cab to take me to the venue and thankfully my name was on the backstage roster so I didn’t have to worry about access. Next gig I am going to get a badge.

  “Thanks. You know what? I do like this better than I thought.” I smile and run my hand down the side of my new Rock-a-Billy skintight black sleeveless dress with a bold cherry print. My bright red patent leather four inch high closed toe pumps lock the style in the bag. It’s kind of hot. And I’m even wearing black lace boy shorts. I’ve never owned a pair of boy shorts before but man are they sexy and super comfortable. Somehow Stacy tossed in a few bras from Macy’s so I now have a matching set and I feel like a million bucks. My red hair I left down and let it do its natural wavy thing. I found a flower hair clip in my bag so I clipped it into my hair. And viola I am accountant turned rock goddess. Okay maybe I wouldn’t take it that far.

  “See I told you you’d like it.” He comes up behind me and wraps his arms my stomach. Tucking his face into the crook of my neck. Which is totally unlike him.

  “What are you doing Stace?”

  “Smelling you. You smell fantastic. What are you wearing?” A tingly feeling flows down my body. My belly is warming up. Oh no not this again. What is wrong with me? I knew I should have flicked the bic when I had the chance in the shower. I don’t masturbate much maybe once a month if that. But when I do it’s only when I can’t concentrate without the release. Being shacked up with five men probably means I am going to have to flick my bic on a regular basis or I might just find myself fucking random dudes and falling into the rock and roll life style. Which is so not me.

  “Love the tattoo.” Some man from the opening band says pointing to my arm when he walks past. He’s fairly hot too. What should I expect? Ugly rockers? I think not.

  “Thanks.” I smile and it’s genuine. I don’t usually wear stuff to show my tattoos so it feels pretty damn good to have it recognized. I did spend a shit load of money on it and lots of hours enduring pain. Well it wasn’t that bad but it wasn’t painless.

  “See I told you proper clothes. Will show off your sexiness.” Stacy says softly in my ear. Another wave of tingliness pools in my veins and dips down between my legs. My body is on fire.

  “Well thanks. I like them too.”

  “Mmmm… Em, you smell divine.” He nuzzles his nose against my neck inhaling my scent again.

  “It’s just soap and body spray the same body spray I’ve worn for ten years. What is wrong with you tonight Stacy? “ I wiggle in his arms. He’s got a hold around my belly. “And what did you do with my best friend? Oh please don’t tell me you haven’t had sex in a while and that’s why you’re acting all weird.” I exhale loudly.

  He lets go and pulls away. I turn to face him and he looks terribly hurt. Man I feel like an ass.

  “I was just showing my best friend some affection. Do I repulse you that much?” he asks his voice is nearly shrill.

  “No.” I reach out and snatch his hand up into mine. Folding our fingers together. “You’re just not that loving to me. That’s the only reason why I asked.” I shrug.

  “Hey hot stuff looking good.” D says walking past me. I try to ignore him but he slaps me hard on the ass. I yip at the contact and Stacy glares at him. Out of all the band mates I seriously dislike Deacon the most. He’s a pompous dickhead. I thought Johnathan was bad but D is ten times worse. At least Johnathan doesn’t try to force woman into submission at least I don’t think he does.

  “Damnit D I told you to leave her alone.” I hear Johnathan yell on stage. My back is to them. I’m trying to focus my attention of my best friend who’s feelings I’ve obviously hurt.

  “Whatever… Dude. It’s not like I’m trying to fuck her. Well maybe by the end of the tour I will. She’s hot and spicy. Just how I like em.” D says.

  I hear a loud growl like a dog come out of someone’s throat. It’s not Stacy’s so I have no idea whose it is.

  I can’t help but roll my eyes at D. And not say a word. The band is setting up on stage and the last thing I need is an all-out brawl with me and D in front of thirty thousand screaming fans. Although I think I could take him. A good kick in the balls would probably do him some good. Take him out of commission a day or two.

  I shake my head back and forth to clear my head. I can hear the guitars start behind me and D starts in on the drums. It’s so loud with thousands of screaming fans.

  “Now what was I saying? Oh yeah. Stace I love you. You’re my best friend. Like seriously. Hands down the best friend I ever had. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  He smiles a megawatt smile at me. His blond hair is like a sexy mop on top of his head. He leans over and WOAH! What the hell! Plants a big kiss right on my lips. My skin sparks at his touch. Letting go of my hand he aggressively pulls me into his arms and attempts to push his tongue between my taught lips. Trying to coax them open. I’m breathing heavily. Oh my god! I cannot believe this is happening. What the fuck is this man thinking? I try to pull away from him but he keeps trying to invade my mouth. Man, he is not smooth at all. I can’t speak, his lips are trapped against mine. I hear a loud growl echo in the stadium. I try to turn around to see Johnathan because I know he has to be the one who’s making that sound he’s the only man with a mic. But Stacy has me in this less than sexy lip lock. I shove my hands against his stomach hard to make him release me and he does.

  Bending over I put my hands on my knees to catch my breath. I turn my head and see Johnathan staring right at us. I wave him off. Mouthing ‘I’m fine.’ He growls again into the microphone and shoots the hardest angriest stare at Stacy that I have ever seen. It’s seriously scary. He lets go of the mic and stalks towards us. Oh no!

  “What the fuck are you doing Johnathan?!” D yells.

  I lock eyes with him on his way over to me. Standing up I point over to the microphone and then to the fans. ‘Go.’ I mouth because I know he can’t hear me over the roar of the anxious and not patient, I might add crowd. He frowns deeply with clinched fists at his sides his knuckles are seriously white and he glares at Stacy again. He’s pissed. Not a little pissed but raging. I have no idea why. I didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe he saw Stacy forcing me to kiss him. I haven’t a damn clue. But he stalks rather angrily back over to the mic and glances back at me for reassurance I nod and he starts singing.

  “What the fuck was that?” I yell when I turn to Stacy.

  “I’m so so sorry Em.” He apologizes, he’s kneeling on the ground. I can see the pain on his face when he looks up at me. I rejected him. I sure as hell did. He’s hot but Jesus he’s my best friend and I don’t kiss men. I don’t date them. I sure as hell don’t make out with them on the stage of a rock concert.

  “What were you thinking?” I tap my toe on the ground. I am so damn fidgety.

  “I don’t know.” He shakes his head back and forth.

  “Yes. You. Do. Now out with it!” I screech forming my mouth into a thin line. Getting more pissed off as each second passes. Thank god the band is playing or this would be a total sideshow act.

  “You’re so beautiful I dunno what came over me.” He pleads.

  “We’ve been friends for over ten years. Ten years! Stacy. And not once have you tried to kiss me or have sex with me.”

  “I know. But I’ve thought about it.” He sounds so shameful when he speaks. It feels like my heart is breaking for him.

  “Why?” I tap my foot again.

  “Because I love you. You’re my best friend. Trust me it’s hard having a best friend who looks like you and not make a move.” He gestures to my body.

  “You like leggy blondes! Or did you just forget that?! I’m a short redhead. H
ello!” I tug on my hair for effect. This is just ridiculous. This man hasn’t had sex in a while. This has to be it because if not I need to take him to the damn looney bin and have his ass locked up.

  “No I don’t” his eyebrow quirks up.

  “Oh really? Is that why nearly every single woman you date is a tall blonde? Both of your wives were tall blondes with rockin bods. You’ve never been with a red head and you sure as hell haven’t been with anyone shorter than five five.” I put my hand on my hip. This is just stupid! What the fuck!

  “Yes. I know what I’ve fucked.” He says slowly and stands up. “But I don’t prefer leggy blondes. As you call them.” He eyes me up and down and back again.

  “Then why is the entirety of your sexual experiences with them? It’s a pattern Stace. You like them. They are hot and you want to fuck them. End of story. Game over. No big deal. Move on.” I throw my hands in the air and walk off the stage.

  “Wait!” he grabs my arm and spins me around.

  “What?” I snap.

  “Okay. I’ll tell you but you’re not going to like it.” He frowns. His lips are so pouty I could reach up and bite it if I wanted. But I won’t.

  “Like what? You think I’ve like any part of the past two days? Not! So adding a little shit to the pile isn’t going to make that much of a difference.” I am so angry and horny this is so damn stupid. I seriously should have made myself come in the bathroom back at the hotel because angry and turned on do not mix well.

  “I only sleep with blondes because they are the furthest from your hair color.” He runs his hand through the side of my hair. Man that feels nice. Oh stop it! No it doesn’t! Fucking horny bitch! I’m going to have go to the ladies room and take care of my sex drive once and for all. I wish they had a pill for this kind of stuff. No-More-Horney for women. That would be a magic pill. I need right now.

  My mouth drops open and my nose crinkles in confusion. “What?”

  “If I have sex with a red head I know I’ll be thinking about you when I do. It’s bad enough I’ve spent the past ten years trying not to masturbate to your face in my head which is difficult. And for the leggy part I try to fuck women who look the opposite of you. If I don’t I know this whole friendship thing can’t work.” He says gesturing with his finger between us.

  I place my hand on my hip and cock my head to the side. I am so not understanding a damn word this man is saying. It’s like he’s speaking a fucking foreign language in the worst place possible, I might add.

  “Huh? I’m so confused. Come again?” I cup my free hand behind my ear, bending forward slightly tilting my head in his direction.

  “Me” he points to his chest. “Have wanted you.” He points to me. “For ten years.”

  Oh great now I have Neanderthal speaking to me.

  Yep I think my heart just fell out of my chest and is rolling around somewhere backstage. This is not right. No.No.No! I can’t be that damn stupid to NOT know that my best friend has wanted me for. What? Ten years? Oh yep time to lock him up and throw away the key.

  “Are you insane?” I ask and I am completely serious. No joke.

  “I might be for not telling you. But it’s all true.”

  I shake my head. “No. That’s not possibly true.”

  “It can be and it is.” He corrects. His voice is sweet and sensual. Oh god here comes the damn butterflies again and this time they are pooling in my pussy. I so have to excuse myself to the ladies room before I fuck anything that walks. Except Stacy. That is so not happening! EVER!

  “I’m sorry Stacy but I can’t believe that.” I say nicely. I try to be as gentle as I can. I can’t break this poor man’s heart if he is being truthful. Which to be honest I don’t think he is. He’s fucked a lot of woman. And I mean a whole hell of a lot and he’s been married twice. Both times to hot blondes one that was a model and one that could have been.

  “You don’t have to Em, I don’t expect you to want me. Like I’ve wanted you for so long. It’s not going to change our friendship. I promise. If you don’t want US.” He motions his hand between us again. “To be together in the way that I do. I’ll tuck all my feelings back in and we can go back to the way things were.”

  I shake my head. “If what you are saying is TRUE Stacy. I can’t fuck you. I don’t want that with you. You know me well enough to know I can’t fuck around. I’m not built that way. You are. Johnathan, D and the band are.“ I nod toward the stage. “But I can’t and you know why. It’s not just about Chris and you know that.”

  “I don’t want to fuck you, I want to be with you.” He says he seriously sounds desperate. I’ve never heard desperation come out of this man’s mouth even once in my entire life.

  I reach my hand out and take his into my own.

  “Listen. I love you with all of my heart Stace. You are the best man I’ve ever known as a friend. But you’re a male whore who has serious commitment issues. I can’t have a relationship with somebody like that. I love you for who you are. But relationship speaking I don’t want to date anyone. And especially not a person who includes Fucking chicks and threesomes under his hobbies list on Facebook.” I smile. Trying to lighten the mood. But I suck at this.

  “Okay. I understand. I’ll lock it all back up. Now come here.” He smiles and tugs me into his arms for a friendly hug. Awe, now this is the best friend I know and love.

  “Thank you.” I hug him tighter.

  Twenty minutes pass and Stacy and I stand together to watch the band finish up there set. Johnathan is rocking extra hard tonight. He looks so hot in his XXL black nirvana T and holey jeans. I catch him look my way a few times as I am dancing rather well in my red heels to his sexy singing. His voice sounds so much like a mix between Chris Daughtry with the deepness and huskiness of Sully from Godsmack. If that’s possible. I don’t know but that’s the best combo I can come up with that relates to how Johnathan sings. I am so starting to dig this rock scene. It’s addicting. Maybe not the trashy whores and strange conversations with my best friend but other than that it’s euphoric. Larger than life.

  Chapter Eight

  I ride with just Stacy in one of the black Mercedes to the after party. This time it’s at our hotel. There’s a giant club in the back attached to it called Apples. Apparently that’s why Stacy selected it for us to stay here. Not that you’ll hear me complaining. That just means I can get smashed and only have to walk back to my room. Well if I can get drunk. It takes a lot for me to get to that point.

  We pull up outside the club in the back of the hotel. There has to be two hundred fans and paparazzi waiting behind red ropes for the band to arrive. Stacy pulls up to the valet that has been reserved for band members and employees only. The rest of the guests are required to park themselves and you can only get in if your name is on the list. We slide up, Stacy gets out and I am advised to stay put until he retrieves me. He’s such a gentleman. As soon as he gets out a blonde valet driver who can’t be over twenty slips into the driver’s seat next to me.

  “Hi ma’am” he says while adjusting the seat the fit his much shorter frame. I nod out of politeness.

  My door opens and Stacy extends his hand out to me. I glide out of the car my hand in his. Feeling like I am about the roll onto the red carpet.

  “You ready for this?” he whispers close to my ear. The hair on the back of my neck excitedly stands attention.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.” I say confidently. Even though I am anything but. I can handle crowds as long as they aren’t touching or bumping into me. Although when I’m touched repeatedly by unknown men and woman I worry about where their hands have been. I know that may sound stupid. But I can’t help that the way I feel. Urine, semen, food, germs, fecal matter, sweat and more all live and breed on a person’s fingers. That’s why I wash my hands like it’s going out of style. The thought of having that nasty stuff rubbed on me make my stomach turn.

  Four steps into the line up to get into the club and we are instantly bombarded with
flash photography from every direction. My eyes can’t take it. This is crazy. I can see spots in my line of sight. No idea why they insist on taking Stacy’s and my photo. But they do over and over again.

  On our way in I see another Mercedes stop at the entrance out of the corner of my eye. James gets out of the driver side and the crowd goes wild realizing who is in the car. James full body blocks Johnathan when he disembarks from the back of the car along with D, Keith and Price. The hoard of fans scream and the paparazzi shoot photos one snapshot after the other. It’s quite ridiculous really. I am sure there are hundreds of thousands of photos of Stricken all over the wonderful World Wide Web. But they have to snap another five hundred tonight. It’s not like they look any different and there I-fuck-anything-with-a-pussy persona is well-known and documented time and time again. What’s another picture with a slutty brunette with big fake boobs and hooker heels? It gets old quick. That’s why I don’t do tabloids or gossip mags. It’s all bull crap anyhow.