Rise From Rock City: A Lesbian Rock Star Romance (Revolving Record Book 1)

by Nicolette Dane

  With eyes wild, Daisy presented me with the album. I took it from her and looked down at it. I had seen thousands of CDs in my life, but this one had some sort of otherworldly glow to it. It felt heavy in my hands, substantial, meaningful. I stood there for a moment in silence, absorbing it. I knew contained on that disc was my destiny and it felt really important. It felt like my future.

  “It’s good,” said Daisy. “It’s really good.”

  “C’mon,” I said. “What about Britney and Christina?”

  “C’mon you,” she said, lightly smacking my arm. “I can enjoy all kinds of music. And I really love your album, Layla. I can see it going to the top of the charts.”

  “Don’t make my heart explode,” I said. “Do you really think so?”

  “The label is putting a ton of support behind you,” said Daisy. “They think you’re the next big thing. We’ll see what people think about it, but… well, the more money you put into something like this, the easier it is to tell people what they think.”

  “Really?” I said, feeling odd from Daisy’s statement. “You think so?”

  “Well, Layla,” she said, being frank with me. “I mean… I know so.”

  “You think you can just influence what people buy and listen to by putting a lot of money behind it?”

  “Mm hmm!” said Daisy, nodding enthusiastically. “That’s what we do here, babe. That’s part of my job.”

  “So it doesn’t really matter if this is good or not?” I asked, tapping my finger on the jewel case. “This could be absolute shit and you guys could still—“

  “Oh, well, no,” she said, interrupting me. “No, don’t get me wrong… Cast Party is tremendously good. You guys rock. You have a unique sound going on, it’s really hip, it’s what people are excited to hear. And we can’t take something that’s spectacularly awful and make it a classic. But we can take something that’s just okay, give it a marketing push, and make people think it’s good enough.”

  “That kind of makes me sick a little,” I admitted, feeling as though my face probably looked pained. “Isn’t it kind of weird to think like that?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Daisy said with a smile. “You’re the real deal and our push behind you is warranted. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “Okay,” I said trepidatiously. “Okay, I trust you.”

  “Don’t give me that face,” she said. Reaching out to me, Daisy pushed the corner of my mouth up and I couldn’t help but smile and look away. “There we go.”

  “Can I admit something to you?”

  “Of course,” said Daisy with heart.

  “The band kind of thinks this is becoming the Layla show,” I said. “Like everything the label is doing is a push behind me specifically. Is that true? Is that something I should be worried about?”

  “Don’t worry about anything,” Daisy said in a reassuring murmur. Again, she leaned in and kissed me.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “All right,” I said. We kissed once more. And then again. I could feel my confidence growing, my enthusiasm, and my arousal. I closed my eyes and softly hummed.

  “You’re going to kill it on Letterman,” said Daisy happily. “I can’t wait to see it. It’s going to be glorious.”

  “You really think so?” I asked with stars in my eyes. “You really think it’s going to be a big deal?”

  “It’s a big fucking deal,” she said with seriousness, slowly nodding. Daisy didn’t often swear, so when she did you knew it really meant something.

  “Can I admit something else to you?” I asked.

  “Definitely.”

  “I really want to have sex with you,” I said. “Like, real bad. It’s hard to not think about it.” This gave Daisy a tickle and I could see a devilishness in her eyes.

  “The feeling is mutual,” she grinned. “Let me take you out tonight.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Leaning in, our arms snaked around each other and we kissed. I’d never felt so happy in such a long time. It was all falling into place for me, I could feel it. I was beginning to feel whole.

  The door to Daisy’s apartment rocked open and knocked against the inside wall with a thud, and the two of us, locked onto one another, fell through the doorway with our lips together. My hands eagerly ran up and down Daisy’s trim figure, and once we were inside, we fell back against a wall and continued our passionate kiss. Daisy reached out and slammed the door closed, both of us heated and breathing heavily into each other’s mouths.

  “Oh God,” I groaned between kisses. “This is all I’ve been thinking about.”

  “Mmm,” sighed Daisy, as we took a break from making out. “I’ve missed you.”

  Daisy dropped her purse and stepped out of her heels, then swiftly began removing her jacket. I bent over and unlaced my boots, stepping out of them as quickly as I could. Just as I was ready to leap back up and kiss Daisy again, I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket. Then the ring tone chimed.

  “Crap,” I said, reaching back and pulling my phone out.

  “Just ignore it,” said Daisy, pressing against me, pushing her lips against my neck.

  “It’s James,” I said, looking into the phone screen. “I think I should get it.”

  “You can call him back later,” she said in a breathy pant. Eagerly pushing her hands against the front of my jeans, Daisy deftly unbuttoned them and worked the zipper down.

  “I suppose I could do that,” I said. Sending James to voicemail, I dropped my phone onto a table in Daisy’s entryway and the two of us stumbled off further into the apartment, my jeans now hanging half down my ass.

  We ended up at another wall, this time in Daisy’s living room and near the couch I had slept on that first night out with her. I leaned back as Daisy worked my jeans down. She was on her knees in front of me, still in her skirt, her nylons, her button down shirt, which she had unbuttoned to about midway down to expose her bra and her wonderful cleavage. I looked down at her and watched.

  Daisy got my jeans down to my ankles, and then pulled just one of my feet out. Then, reaching up, she grabbed for my underwear and slowly pulled them down my thighs. I was entranced by her, barely able to take my eyes away. She looked up and we made eye contact for a moment. I felt myself ache and tremble with anticipation.

  The next thing I knew, Daisy’s face was buried into my pussy and she fervently licked and lapped against me. Her hands firmly pressed against my thighs and then wrapped around to hold on to my ass. I couldn’t help but moan out, as her attentions sent my brain swimming in deep lust. With her tight hold on my rear, Daisy pulled my cheeks apart to spread me out while her mouth sucked on my wetness up front.

  Her blue eyes darted up to me while her mouth kept focused, and our eyes locked once more. My heart melted. I was in love with this girl. I knew she and I were different, from different worlds, different upbringings, different paths. But it was beginning to become clear to me. Daisy was just like some of the girls I hated when I was a teenager. She was like the head cheerleader, or something, just perfect and pretty and put together. And while I’d always bitch and snark about that head cheerleader — Samantha was her name — when I was with my friends, the big secret I held on to was that I always wanted to fuck her. It made me feel like a fraud, but I couldn’t help it. I’d look at Samantha and imagine what it would be like to undress her.

  And now, as Daisy ate me out, fondled me, pleasured me from her knees in her mostly dark apartment, I felt like I was, in a way, fucking the head cheerleader. It was everything I’d always imagined. Sure, it still made me feel like a fraud. But I didn’t care. The love and desire I felt far overpowered any kind of negative self-talk. I just wanted to feel good and being with Daisy truly made me feel good.

  Then we were on Daisy’s bed, both of us stripped down naked. I was lying on my back with my legs splayed out, Daisy sitting on her knees between them. She had presented me with a special toy of hers,
a rose quartz wand, which she promptly licked wet and then used it to adoringly play with me. It was cold at first, as it slipped inside, but soon I was all warmed up, with Daisy slowly and methodically using her crystal to penetrate me. I felt stuffed.

  “Shit,” I called out in a low moan. “That feels great.”

  “Mmm,” Daisy hummed with a grin on her face. As she thrusted into me with her wrist flicking, her other hand was between her legs, rubbing her fingers up and down her own slit. I watched her touch herself as I felt her fuck me with that slick wand. My hips moved back and forth, my ass grinding into her sheets.

  “You’re so amazing,” I said between breaths. “You’re so hot, Daisy.”

  “You’re a rock star,” she said back to me, her eyes glazed over yet focused on my eyes. “I want you so bad.”

  “You can have me,” I said. “Anytime you want.”

  “I want to fuck you all the time,” she said, her voice getting a bit nasty. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

  “I want that too.”

  There was this dichotomy lurking inside Daisy that took me a while to see. But as we locked eyes in her bed, she working that toy into me while she fondled herself, my sides feeling sweaty, I was beginning to put some things together. Outwardly she portrayed this good girl sensibility, but her inner world was rich with other, more sensual storylines. Just a few drinks would unlock something in her, something lusty, something perhaps repressed. It forged a new dimension of Daisy in my mind, and it gave me another level of respect for her.

  “Oh!” I groaned, twisting slightly to one side. “Touch my clit,” I guided. “I’m so close.”

  “Like this?” Daisy asked, pressing her already-wet thumb against my cherry and moving it in steady circles as she continued pumping the polished rock inside of me.

  But I didn’t answer. I just stretched my back, my head dropping down into the pillows, my body feeling long and luscious. With my mouth agape, I panted out moans with each breath and I felt Daisy increase her efforts, ushering me unabashedly toward climax.

  Then I was squirming, legs kicking, arms slithering. I coughed a few times amid my orgasmic cries, having swallowed some spit. But I didn’t care. The energy making its way through me made everything feel fine. My toes tingled with numbness. I felt myself ooze with wetness as Daisy removed the toy from my pussy. I took a deep breath and let out one more long, vocal sigh.

  About an hour later, I was sitting out on Daisy’s balcony wearing just a t-shirt and underwear. My butt felt damp in the chair, feet up on the railing, fingering a cigarette and looking down at my cell phone. It was a beautiful New York night. The buildings were lit up, all the noises coming from the street were novel and interesting, and even though there was hardly a single moment of quiet, everything sung together in perfect harmony. I took a drag on my smoke, exhaled, and hit the call button on my phone.

  “There you are,” said James as he picked up. “I was getting worried about you.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I know I just sort of disappeared.”

  “Where the hell are you?” he asked with worry in his voice.

  “I’m… with a friend,” I said.

  “A friend?”

  “Yeah, I mean…” I said, taking another puff from my cigarette, trying to figure out how to say it. “Are you alone?”

  “I’m alone,” he confirmed. “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t tell the others,” I said. “But you know that woman from the label, our PR person? Daisy?”

  “Yeah, of course I know her,” said James. “You’re with her?”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m with her.”

  “What are you doing, Layla?” he said with confusion. “Why are you with Daisy?” Then I could hear him figure it out over the phone, like it suddenly clicked for him and it all became clear. “You’re screwing that girl?” said James skeptically.

  “Maybe.”

  “That’s why you’ve been so fucking weird lately,” he said. “Layla, you just could have told me. It’s me. We’ve known each other for… what? Fifteen years?”

  “Something like that,” I said. “Look, it just has to be a secret, okay? She thinks that if it gets out, it could fuck with her career.”

  “Why? Because she’s like a perfect princess and you’re a punk freakshow?” said James. “She thinks people will judge her or something?”

  “No!” I protested. “At least… I hope not. No, she just thinks that if the label finds out they’ll think she’s trying to sleep her way to the top.”

  “You’re the top?” James asked with a short laugh. “Hell, maybe she is trying to sleep her way to the top.”

  “Stop it,” I said. “Just promise… promise you won’t say anything.”

  “I promise,” he said. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said. “I’m fine, though.”

  “Okay,” he said. “So, are you coming back to the hotel tonight? We were getting worried about you.”

  “No,” I said. “I think I’ll just stay here. Just tell the others I’m with an old friend… someone we went to high school with or something.”

  “All right,” said James, almost defeatedly. “Well, meet up with us in the lobby tomorrow morning. We’ve got to head to the theatre early for soundcheck.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be there. And James…”

  “Yeah?”

  “If Daisy’s there with us tomorrow,” I said. “Don’t say anything. All right?”

  “All right.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I love you, buddy.”

  “I love you, too,” he said. “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  “Goodnight, Layla.”

  “Goodnight, James.”

  I flicked my cigarette butt and immediately lit another. Things were moving so fast, it was becoming a blur. How did I go from playing basement shows at flop houses to performing on Letterman? It didn’t make sense and it was doing something to my mind. I could feel it. It felt like my ego was taking over control, that’s the best way I could describe it. I just wanted to feel good, and my ego promised I would. It promised me my destiny would unfold as it should.

  “Hey,” I heard Daisy say from behind me. I turned around in my chair to see her. We smiled at one another.

  “Hey,” I said. I looked her up and down, seeing her in a matching sleeping outfit of a blue silk camisole and shorts. Daisy made me feel warm.

  “What did James want?” she asked.

  “He was just worried about me,” I said. “Because I sort of disappeared when we got into town.”

  “Well, you’ll see them all tomorrow,” said Daisy with a tender smile. “Tonight you’re mine.”

  “I wish I could stay in New York longer,” I mourned. “After the show tomorrow, we’re heading directly to the airport and back out west.”

  “The tour’s not that much longer,” she said. “What’s your plan then?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Back to Detroit, I guess.”

  “Maybe you could come out here,” she said. “You’ll have some time off.”

  “Maybe,” I said with a smile, gazing up at her. “Maybe I will.”

  We stood there on stage, anxious for the announcement and ready to play. I was right up against the mic stand, one hand already on the microphone, my eyes focused over at the desk across the stage. I took a deep breath. This was it. I couldn’t believe I was standing there. Turning around, I looked at James, then Paul, then Renee, and all of them were focused across the stage at the man. We’d grown up watching him host the show, and now we were the music guests. It really gives you some perspective.

  The audience began to applaud, and the cameras panned around us, preparing for the shot. One camera moved closer to the desk, focusing in on Letterman himself.

  “Welcome back,” he said with a toothy smile. “Fresh off tour opening for Air Patrol, tonight our musical guest comes t
o you out of Detroit Rock City. Their debut album Audition was released today.” As he said this, he held our album out to the camera to show it off. “And Spun Magazine has called them ‘Iggy Pop’s illegitimate children.’ Please welcome… Cast Party!”

  The assistant director behind the camera gave us our cue and we went into it, everything kicking in at once in a cacophony of sound. I grinned as the camera focused in on me. And as my part came up, I opened my mouth and closed in on the mic. I felt like some kind of powerful magician.

  Backstage after the performance, we were all beaming and giddy. None of us could sit down. We were so amped up, we could have played an entire set. I felt almost as though I were standing on my tip toes.

  “Dude,” said James. “I can’t believe I shook his hand.”

  “That was crazy,” said Paul, looking down at his own hand. “If you would have asked me even 6 months ago if I’d be performing on Letterman, shaking the guy’s hand, I would have said you’re crazy.”

  “He’s a fox, too,” said Renee. We all laughed.

  “You think so?” I said.

  “Definitely,” said Renee. “Dude’s got charisma. He just radiates it. Super hot.”

  “Even though I’m not into men,” I said. “I can admit that he’s a stud.”

  “My girl!” said Renee, lifting her palm up. We highfived.

  “I’m so pumped,” said James. “Do you know how big this is going to be for us? Pimping our album on Letterman? Tomorrow is going to be crazy nuts.”

  “This is all I’ve ever wanted,” said Paul. He was getting emotional, which was something I don’t know if I’d ever seen happen to Paul. He was always pretty stoic, but as the band was rising, something was coming out of him. “I mean, it’s so fucked up. I can’t believe it’s happening.”

  “Believe it,” said Renee. “Bask in it!” She closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and smiled.