Claiming Addison: 69 Bottles #1

by Zoey Derrick

  The after party is the same tonight as last night, except I’m not being watched, directly, by Rusty. The band is surrounded by women and the booze is flowing from bottles like nobody’s business.

  Tonight however, Dex seems to be working his talent on two, possibly three women at the same time and it takes all I have to not puke everywhere.

  I'm in the corner, a dark one at that, desperate to stay out of sight and hopefully out of mind with my two shots of Crown and an Irish Bulldog (which I didn't have to explain this time). And much like last night, when my drinks are gone, I leave the party. Though watching a train wreck about to happen is always nice, I can’t watch this, not anymore. After my revelation earlier, it actually makes my chest ache to watch them schmooze the bimbos. God, they could do so much better. I mean, I get it. You’re a frickin’ rock star and the easy ones always throw themselves at you, but just because they do, doesn’t mean you have to dip your sticks.

  I am so grateful for the fact that I don’t have a babysitter tonight. Before I take off on my own little adventure, I head up to the suite to ditch the leather pants. They’re comfortable as hell, but I want to blend into the crowd, not stand out. I pull my hair up into a messy bun and wipe off some of my make-up. A softer appearance is my goal. I swap leather for denim, tank tops for a three quarter sleeve cotton shirt and my heels for my chucks and socks, grabbing my hoodie on my way out the door. It’s March, in Vegas, which means it’s chilly out.

  I slink quickly down the hall to the stairwell, not wanting to risk running into anyone from the band in the elevator and I climb my way down to the lobby level and sneak out of the hotel through the casino and onto the Las Vegas Strip.

  The streets are busy, but filled mostly with frat boys. Spring break, Vegas, does this even need to be discussed? The air smells of massive amounts of booze and the occasional raunchy smell of vomit because someone drank themselves sick. Once I get up to the escalator at Planet Hollywood, I cross the street to the Bellagio and the fountains out front.

  I stand there for a long time watching the water shoot and dance to the music. The sight is a gorgeous one and I’m hypnotized by it. I’ve been to Vegas countless times both personally and professionally. Though I’ve never actually taken the time to sit and watch the fountains. The downside to being alone, my mind begins to wander back to the MGM and Talon, Kyle and the girls surrounding them.

  It’s obvious to me now that watching Talon and Kyle sweep women into their beds makes me upset, and maybe even jealous. Hell, there isn’t a maybe about it. But despite what appears to be desperation to have me, neither of them are truly making an advance on me. I’m not exactly playing hard to get here. I haven’t come right out and straddled their laps, if I’m what they want bad enough, they know where to find me.

  Now I’m thinking about what happened on the bus when Kyle backed off immediately this morning. No argument, no explanation, nothing, and frankly I was seriously disappointed by that. Yes, I said, ‘I can’t,’ but I realize that hindsight is always twenty-twenty and the side I’m seeing now is that I wanted him to argue, to fight for it and he didn’t. He just backed off. Why did he do that? Most guys would have done or said something, tried to argue, but he didn’t.

  Then my mind slips to his brother. Is the holding and the kissing okay because it’s rather innocent, well, on the outside-no need to remind you of what it does down there. Hell, just thinking about it again makes my clit throb. But is that why? I can see both sides of that coin. I honestly can, but -not trying to sound rude or mean-Dan’s gone, it’s not like we broke up. He’s gone and never coming back for me or for Kyle. Did he back off because while he wants me, he knows that Talon does too?

  I can totally see that angle to things because when Kyle and I are alone, it’s one way, but when we’re around Talon it’s a little different. Is he fighting his inner need to give Talon a try first?

  The thing that worries me most is the fact that I’m here and I’m right now. Sure, they can get what they want from the greenroom or the bar. Watching them work a room full of eager chickies isn’t exactly the best way to draw me in; it’s going to push me away. I want to be first in line, not second. Which would make my decision to turn them down even easier. Or is there something more? Do I need it to be something more?

  I think the answer to that question is obvious, yes. I need it to be something more than a woman to fill an empty bed. I need it to be about me, not about the women that they can pick up after the show. I need to be the woman sitting on their lap, enjoying their company, not the lonely girl in the corner.

  My revelations are interrupted by a huge group of drunken frat boys catcalling at me as they parade down Las Vegas Boulevard with their drinks in hand. It's quite comical to watch and I take a lot of entertainment from them. Though I’m thankful I threw my hood up, I can listen and not make it obvious, no feeding the animals.

  Their antics pull me away from the water, breaking the majestic spell it had on me, so I start to look around the fountain. It’s not crowded, hell, I don’t even know what time it is. There are a couple of individual people, like myself, admiring the fountains, but it’s mostly couples and I can't help watching them standing close together or making out at the fountains. I feel a stab of jealousy that me, a 30 year old successful business woman, is standing here, alone.

  After another hour or so of the charade and shenanigans going on around me, I give up, taking one last look at the fountain and begin my slow walk back to the MGM.

  When I cross the threshold of the casino I check my watch and it is nearly three in the morning. I could have stood there all night watching those fountains and been content. But tomorrow is another busy concert day, followed immediately by Sunday’s travel and a concert in Phoenix.

  I take the elevator this time, not caring who I might run into on my way up. It is Vegas after all and people stay up all night drinking, gambling and partying. When I reach the twentieth floor I’m immediately assaulted by noises and some yelling. Fucking fabulous.

  “Find her!” I hear a deep gravelly voice. It sounds a lot like Talon only deeper and more pissed off.

  What the fuck? “I don’t care how long it takes, where you have to go or what you have to do, find her.”

  Is he talking about me? He can’t be talking… “All we know is that she left the bar within an hour of getting there. This is Vegas man, she could be anywhere. She’s a big girl…”

  “That’s not the fucking point. Call her, find her, get her back here.” I pat down my pockets for my phone. Shit. I never brought it with. For a moment I debate on slipping back onto the elevator and escaping just to make him worry a little more. But I’m too tired to play this whole cat chasing a mouse game so I pull up my big girl panties and turn the corner. As soon as I come into view all the yelling ceases and I see Mills, Beck, Leroy, Rusty, Talon, Kyle and Peacock all standing in the hallway.

  I stop dead in my tracks, staring at them. “What?”

  “Where have you been?” Talon growls at me.

  I scowl at him. “Getting laid, what’s it to you?” I’m not a child and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be treated like one, especially not by these asshats.

  Peacock laughs. “See, I fucking told you.”

  I roll my eyes. “I went for a fucking walk and you want to send out the cavalry. Real nice. I’m a big girl, Talon. I can take care of myself.” I’m actually a little angry with him because he looked hurt the moment I said I was out getting laid. Not like he wasn’t doing that a few hours ago. Ugh! Double standards piss me off. I don’t need a ‘it’s okay for me, but not for you’ attitude. Then once I told him I went for a walk that anger faded. “Now if you boys will excuse me, I’m tired and I’m going to bed.”

  The men part the hallway making room for me, all except for Talon and Kyle. “What?” I snap.

  “Next time you need to tell someone where you’re going or at the very least answer your phone.” He’s still angry.

  “I
forgot my phone in my room when I changed. And let me tell you something,” I hiss as I get in Talon’s face. “I’ve lived for over seven years in LA, I think if I can handle LA, I can handle Vegas. I am not a child and I am not your responsibility. If I want to fucking go for a walk without a god damn shadow, I damn well will. Now,” I puff up my chest just a little bit, straighten my jacket, “if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed.”

  He doesn’t move, but Kyle steps back. He’s wise to keep quiet right now as I skirt around Talon. He grabs my arm, pulling me back toward him. “Let me go, big man. I’ve done nothing wrong. You’re drunk and you’re pissed off, but do not…” His hands squeezes a little tighter. “Talon, you’re hurting me, let me go.”

  “Let her go, T.” Kyle says to my defense, breaking through the rage in Talon’s eyes. He lets me go. I walk the three doors to our room and slide my key into the slot.

  When I open the door I am greeted by the sounds of women, yes, I said women - plural, moaning. I flinch and want to be anywhere but here. I can feel eyes on me as I hesitate. No, I’m not hesitating because I’m going to apologize for taking a walk. I shiver in disgust. I make a mental note to avoid sharing a room with anyone going forward. Sorry, Mouse, you’re gonna have to suck it up with Peacock.

  At least then if I decide to talk a walk, no one will be the wiser. Just the fact that someone stopped their marathon of sex long enough to look for me or kick me out makes the creepy shiver slide through me again.

  I take a deep breath and step inside the suite, determined to just walk straight to my room. As I am rounding the corner to the sitting room I get an eyeful of Dex’s pasty white ass grinding into some blond bimbo who has another blond on top of her, grinding their pussies together. Then Dex pulls out his tool. Good god, it’s huge. I take back my pinky comment, then shutter. He slides it into the chick on top. He pays me no attention whatsoever.

  Looking around the room, on the couch are three more half naked chicks prattling on and on about how they can’t wait until Talon comes back. I hear the door behind me open and then close again. I make a beeline for my room, desperate to hide the tears that are about to start flowing.

  How the fuck can he kiss me like that, sing a fucking rock love song with me in mind, flip his fucking lid because I’m not here and then have three horny cumbuckets waiting for his return on the couch in the sitting room? I can’t fucking believe I thought he wanted me, that they wanted me. Obviously I was very wrong. Or at least the want of me doesn’t hold a candle to their want of an open, easy and willing woman. The tears spill over before I even get my door closed.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  “Go away,” I growl.

  “Come on, panda girl, open up.”

  Panda girl? “No, go away, go back to your party.”

  “It’s not my party,” Kyle says through the door. I shake my head.

  “Leave me alone,” I say loud enough that I know he can hear me.

  “Never.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Come on, panda. Open up.”

  “You left me alone tonight. What difference does it make if you leave me alone now?”

  “Shit. Come on, Addison. I didn’t think, open up.” I can hear the agony in his voice and my resolve softens.

  “It’s open,” I say softer, but still loud enough that he can hear me.

  I roll over onto my stomach, facing away from him, my hood is still up so I can’t see him. I hug my pillow close to me, tucking it under my chin. I get settled just in time for the door to click open and then close again. “What do you want, Kyle?”

  “You,” he says soft as a whisper. I roll over quickly, looking at him standing against the door to my room.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  He smiles. “I am. I’ve wanted you since you gave that speech about the band’s dicks. Actually, since you pulled up to the bus in LA.”

  “I’m not…”

  “Stop. Please, I just need you. I just want you.”

  “For tonight. What about tomorrow night, or the next? Tonight you struck out, so you come to me for second best.”

  He shakes his head. “I didn’t strike out tonight, or last night for that matter.”

  “Oh great, because that makes me feel a whole lot better. I don’t do sloppy seconds, Kyle.”

  “Will you shut up and listen to me for a minute? I haven’t slept with anyone tonight or last night.”

  “You looked awfully cozy with that blond chick tonight, I can’t imagine she walked away willingly.”

  He laughs. “No, she drank too much and started throwing herself at Talon then somewhere along the line she passed out on the couch in the bar. I came up here looking for you. But you were gone, no one knew where you were and I panicked. I didn’t tell Talon until I came back up after walking through the casino, but then they were…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, he doesn’t have to.

  “I…” I have no clue what to say. He looks so sad standing all the way over there. I want to comfort him, to give him what he wants, but I don’t know that I can do that. “I haven’t been with anyone since Dan,” I say under my breath.

  “Jesus, panda. That’s a… damn, that’s a long time,” he stutters his way through his words.

  I snort without humor and roll back over. “You’re telling me,” I mumble.

  Don’t even think about asking me for their names because I have no fucking clue, nor do I care. All I know is I’m fucking drunk and I need a place to bury my stick. A blond, a brunette and an out of the box black haired chick is exactly what the doctor ordered to cure my itch.

  “Did you see that chick?” Blondie says.

  “Which one?” says the brunette.

  “The one that came running through here all bent because Dex was getting it on with those two chicks.”

  “Oh yeah, that one, yeah. I’m pretty sure she was crying. I mean, seriously, who wants a fucking drummer when you can have the lead singer?”

  “You guys are stupid. She didn’t go running until she saw us sitting here. Pay attention next time,” the black haired one announces.

  “GET OUT!” I growl at the three of them. “Get the fuck out now.”

  “What the fuck is your problem?” And just like the biggest nightmare imaginable they ignore me, start pawing at me, trying to pull my clothes off.

  “I said get out,” I growl again but they don’t move. I manage to disentangle my phone from my pocket. “Mills, get in here and get Dex and his hoard out of here and take these three with you. NOW!”

  Despite my phone call, the girls don’t leave. They keep going, making out with each other, desperate to undress me, until I finally manage to politely push them back and away. Now that I’m free of them, I go for the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

  “This is fucking lame. I knew he wouldn’t put out,” one of the dumb bitches says and I’ve about had it. That’s when I hear Beck.

  “Alright, ladies, party’s over. Let’s go.”

  The girls don’t give him any lip and after about ten minutes and a shower, Mills pounds on the door. “They’re gone.”

  “Thanks, man.” I open the door. “Sorry about that.”

  “What happened anyway?” Mills asks me.

  “They were talking shit. Pissed me off, then when I told them to get out they ignored me. Nothing unusual really.”

  “What were they talking smack about? You don’t usually get agitated without good reason.”

  This is one of the reasons I keep Mills around. “Addison.”

  “Oh, shit. She alright?”

  I shrug. “No clue, she’d already locked herself in her room when I came back in. I know she got an eyeful of Dex before she made it to her room.” I watch Mills flinch. “Yup, pretty much. But I think those three caused more trouble before Addison managed to get out of the room.”

  Mills gives me a sad smile. “Well, they’re gone. Get some sleep.”

  I nod. “Yeah, you too.”


  Unfortunately, I’m too drunk and way too fucking horny to talk to her tonight. I’ll end up doing something we’ll both regret.

  Why is this so fucking hard? I’ve never had a problem getting girls, getting laid. But since her panda wearing ass walked onto my bus, I can’t fucking stop thinking about her.

  I sit down on the bed, hard as fucking stone and naked, I lean forward with my head down. “Get a grip, dipshit,” I tell myself. She’s just another fucking chick. Yeah, another chick that while I fucking want her like nobody’s business, I can’t fuck and throw out. Addison isn’t the type of girl you bang and forget. She’s the type of girl you fuck and fall in love with.

  Chills run through me. Fuck, I need a piece of ass to move past this…but I can’t even do that right. Two fucking nights in a row…

  “He meant that much to you?” Kyle asks.

  “I thought he did, at the time, but now I don’t know. I threw myself into work to get through those weeks following his death and I’ve just stayed there ever since. Being here now is a product of all that hard work.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly accomplished a lot.”

  Over the course of the last few minutes Kyle has made his way closer to the bed, so close he’s actually sitting on it looking down at me. His eyes are soft and warm. I want him, I really do, but this is the first time in seven years I’ve had to face the choice of whether or not I’m actually ready to sleep with someone. “In some areas, yes, I have, in others, not so much.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks. There is a genuine curiosity in his voice and it’s comforting. It doesn’t sound strained or forced.

  “I mean that because I’ve been so wrapped up in work that I haven’t had much time for other things.”