Bossy: An Alpha Collection

by Levine, Nina

  I shut my eyes and try to push the shitty thoughts swirling through my mind away, but all I can think about is the band and where we’ll go from here. Ten fucking years and Van’s attitude is threatening to throw all that away. Not to mention his bad behaviour. I have no idea how Tom will handle this. If he walks away from us, we’ll struggle to find a manager as good as he is. Tom’s well respected in our industry, and there are a shitload of bands who would kill to have him manage them. He’s been our manager for eight years and was instrumental in steering us in the right direction when we first started out all those years ago.

  “Jett.” Presley’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

  “What, baby?” I ask, opening my eyes and looking at her.

  “Van’s here.” She jerks her chin in his direction and I twist my head to look at him.

  He’s not as banged up as Tom is, but at least Tom got a punch or two in; Van’s face is bruised and his lip is cut. The scowl on his face tells me he’s still pissed but I don’t have it in me to care. I leave Presley and walk to where he is. “What the hell happened with Tom?” I demand, already feeling the beginning of another headache. The last one I had has only just subsided so this only makes me more irritable.

  He drops his duffle and plants his feet wide while crossing his arms over his chest. “Do I even get a say in the band anymore, Jett?” The hostility radiating from him can’t be mistaken, and I rack my brain trying to figure out where it’s coming from.

  “Of course you get a say,” I throw back at him. “Where is this shit coming from?”

  My question fires him up. His face twists in fury and he snaps. “This shit comes from me never getting a say in the decisions we make. It’s either you or Tom or the label, and for once, I want to feel like my opinion fucking counts.”

  I stare at him in confusion. Frowning, I say, “You do get a say; we all do.”

  He shakes his head furiously. “No, we don’t. If we did, I’d get a say in going home today, I would have gotten a say in coming here in the first place, and I sure as fuck would get a say in our next album.” His chest heaves with a harsh breath and he jabs his chest with his finger before thundering, “I get no fucking say!”

  “Do you think I wanted to come here?” I yell back at him. “And then to practically turn straight around and go home… yeah, that was high on my list of priorities. And the new sound on the album? I’m for that but like I said, we have to be smart about it. You’ve got your head in your ass if you think we don’t listen to you. No, strike that… I think your head is out of the game, I think it’s been screwed up by Caitlin, and I think you need to hurry up and sort that shit out in your mind because it’s clearly affecting your ability to think straight.”

  His face reddens at the mention of his ex-fiancé and the vein in his neck bulges. He drops his arms and clenches his fists at his side. “That bitch is wiped from my memory. Don’t fucking mention her again.”

  “I’ll keep mentioning her for as long as you keep acting like the dickhead you have been for weeks now.”

  “She’s got nothing to do with this!”

  “We’ve been friends for over ten years, Van, and I know you inside out, and I’m telling you, she has everything to do with this.”

  He glares at me in silence for a minute before picking up his duffel and throwing one last statement at me. “A friend would pay more attention, Jett.” And then he stalks off to a chair, leaving me baffled as to what he means.

  Before I get my thoughts together, though, we’re given the go-ahead to board the plane. I’ll give him some space for now, but we need to sort this the fuck out, and quick. Our band’s future has already been threatened by scandal. We don’t need to put a nail in the coffin by losing a member.

  “You’re wide awake, aren’t you?” I ask Presley as she tosses and turns in my bed. We got home about an hour ago and came straight to bed, but she’s been restless ever since.

  She shifts in the bed again and rests her head on my chest. “Sorry…” she murmurs, “I shouldn’t have slept so much on the plane because it’s coming back to haunt me now.”

  I put my arm around her and pull her closer to me. It’s nearly four in the morning now and I’m past the point of exhausted where I probably couldn’t sleep even if I tried. “I’d suggest we have sex but I’m not sure I could get it up, I’m so damn tired,” I say as I press a kiss to her head.

  Her body shakes gently with laughter and she lifts her head to look at me. “Jett, you could get it up in a coma. Just be honest, you’re too lazy and can’t be fucked.”

  I laugh and move my hand so I can smooth her hair and then pull her face to mine. Kissing her, I mutter, “You might have a point there. Now, if someone was to do all the work for me, I wouldn’t say no.”

  She licks her lips and smiles. “No isn’t in your vocabulary, Mr. Rockstar.”

  Raising my brows, I ask, “So, is my dick gonna see any action or are we all too lazy this morning?” She has no idea how awake I am now.

  Faking a yawn, she slides her body on top of mine and puts her head down on my chest. “Maybe I’ll just sleep here.”

  “Or maybe you won’t,” I growl as I move us swiftly so she’s under me. Placing my hands on the bed, either side of her, I stare into her eyes, and say, “How ‘bout I wear you out so all you’ll want to do is sleep.”

  Her eyes light up with anticipation. “Someone’s woken up.”

  I take her lips in a rough kiss, and when I begrudgingly let them free, say, “Someone did a good job of waking me up.”

  She wraps her legs and arms around me, and my cock hardens more when her warm breath floats across my skin. “Someone needs to shut up and hurry the hell up. A woman could die of dick drought when her man insists on talking too much.”

  Lust courses through me and I push my cock against her. Thank fuck we’re naked already; I hardly have the patience for foreplay here, let alone removing clothes. I bend my face so my lips are near her ear, and rasp, “Someone’s got a dirty fucking mouth that drives me the fuck wild. Maybe I should shove my cock in there so that we all stop talking.”

  The way her nails dig into my back, and the way her pussy meets my dick as she thrusts up, tell me she’s down with that idea, but suddenly the need to be inside her is overwhelming and I know there’s no way I’m letting her pussy go now. Her mouth will have to wait.

  “Fuck, Presley…” I groan as I resist the temptation to drive my cock deep inside her.

  She moves one of her hands to the back of my head and pushes my face to hers so she can kiss me. The minute her lips find mine, I’m done. Her kiss is demanding and I fucking love it when she’s rough like this. When I can feel her need for me. It’s one of my biggest turn-ons.

  I wanted to give her foreplay but I can feel how wet she is already, and I know I’m not going to last, so I thrust inside her. The moan that falls from her lips and the way her pussy squeezes around my dick give me all the feedback I need. I pull out and thrust back in, hard and fast. My promise to fuck her into exhaustion is the only thing on my mind at the moment. Everything else is a blur as I work towards that.

  Our bodies move together in relentless pursuit of pleasure.

  The push and pull of the chase.

  The giving and the taking.

  The need for more.

  The insatiable hunger for everything we can give each other . . . for everything we want to take from each other.

  I thrust.

  In.

  Out.

  In.

  Out.

  Fuck.

  I cling to her as my orgasm rips through me. My body tenses and I still as it takes over.

  I let it consume me.

  I am fucking consumed.

  Presley consumes me.

  She fucking owns me.

  “Jett!” she cries out as she comes. Her body jerks and her pussy tightens around me as it hits.

  I let her ride it out until I can’t hold my body up any longe
r. Pulling out, I lie next to her on the bed. I’m fucking spent.

  She moans and it’s the sexy little noise she makes that always makes me want to pump my dick in her again, but no matter what she says or does to try to convince me, I can’t go again. Groaning, I say, “I want to fuck you again, sweetheart, but there’s just no way my body or my dick’s gonna play nice. Jesus, I don’t even have the energy to give you my tongue.” The tiredness seeps deep into my bones and sleep threatens to take hold.

  Rolling over, she places her arm across my body and rests her head on my chest while I put my arm around her. Her leg tangles with mine, and her breathing is the only sound she makes. We lie there for a long time, silent. Almost asleep. And then she murmurs, “Are you guys going to be okay?”

  I blink my eyes open and frown. “What do you mean?”

  “With Van . . . do you think the band is going to be okay? He seems so angry and disconnected from you all. It worries me.” Her voice is soft and I can hear the care in it. I love how she cares about this. I don’t feel alone in it now I’ve got her by my side.

  I let out a long breath. “I honestly don’t know. He’s always been moody but this is a whole new level of moodiness. I feel like he’s pulling away.”

  She’s quiet for a beat and then whispers, “Or trying to tell you something.”

  Frowning again, I say, “If he’s trying to tell me something, he should just fucking say it. I’m growing tired of his anger and his moods.”

  She shifts to rest on her elbow and stomach. “Maybe he doesn’t know what it is he’s trying to say, Jett. Haven’t you ever felt something that you can’t quite put your finger on, almost like a pent up frustration and anger at someone or at a situation that you just can’t express, not even to yourself?”

  “No, I haven’t.” I have no clue where she’s coming from here.

  “Well, I have, and it sucks. It’s like there’s this nervous energy flowing through you all the time. You know something’s wrong, but as much as you try to analyse it, you come up short. Eventually it all becomes clear… maybe you just need to give him some space and some time to figure it out.”

  “I’m all for giving people time to figure their shit out, but Van is pushing against me so damn hard that I’m not sure we’re gonna last long enough for him to do that. I think he’s about to explode, and I don’t think it’ll be pretty.”

  She processes that and nods. “Yeah, you might be right. But I hope you guys can look past his behaviour and remember the friendship you all share, because I truly think he needs you guys more than he knows. When someone’s hurting so much that they lash out at those they love, it’s a sign they need you badly.”

  I stare at her in awe and then wrap my hand around her neck so I can pull her close. Brushing a kiss across her lips, I murmur, “Van’s a lucky fucker.”

  Her brows knit together in confusion. “Why?”

  “Because he’s got you on his side.”

  Smiling, she kisses me again and then pulls away. Moving off the bed, she says, “Just remember what I said, okay?”

  I nod and then ask, “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to clean up and then when I come back, you and me are going to sleep all day.”

  I rest my hands behind my head on the pillow and watch her go while thinking about what she said. And then my thoughts shift to the gig we’ve got lined up for tonight. The record label organised a slot for us at a benefit concert that’s on at the Brisbane Entertainment Centre. Van said he’d be there and I hope like hell he keeps that agreement.

  28

  Jett

  Guzzling down the water Presley just gave me, I stare at Van and wonder what’s running through his mind. We’re about to go on stage for our set, and he’s avoided me since sound check. Probably a good thing because he seems to be in the same mood he was in at the airport in LA.

  I empty the bottle of water and throw it in the bin. Turning to Hunter, I ask, “You’re good with the changes we made?” We made some slight changes to the drums for tonight that Van suggested and Hunter seemed good to go.

  He nods. “Yeah, man, I like the changes.”

  “Good.”

  My phone sounds with a text and I swipe to read it.

  * * *

  Tom: Did Van turn up?

  Me: Yeah, he’s here.

  Tom: Thank fuck.

  Me: You got clearance to fly home yet?

  Tom: I leave tonight.

  Me: See you soon.

  * * *

  I slip my phone back into my pocket and turn to Presley. “You gonna be okay here while we perform?” She was going to watch from her seat but I told her I needed her close.

  She smiles. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me, just focus on you.”

  Bending my face to hers, I kiss her. God, she still has no clue how much I need her. “Sweetheart, I’m always thinking of you. You have no idea.”

  Her smile grows larger and she whispers, “You always say the right things.”

  I grab her by the waist. Pulling her to me, I say, “A man can only try. I know I’ll fuck a lot of things up, but I’ll always try to get shit right.”

  “I know, and I love you for it.”

  I still. She’s never said those words to me before, and I’m not sure she realises what she just said because she’s showing no recognition of it. Maybe it was just a figure of speech, but fuck, I realise just how much I want those words from her. I’m about to tell her exactly how much when I’m given the signal it’s our turn to perform.

  Shit.

  Kissing her, I say, “Hold that thought.”

  “What thought?” She frowns at me as I start walking towards the stage.

  I grin. “The thought about you loving me,” I yell out because the noise from the crowd has grown so loud and I’m not sure if she can hear me otherwise.

  The confused look on her face tells me she didn’t hear me, but she waves me away with a smile. She says something, but I can’t hear her, either, now, so I simply nod and turn my attention to the audience as I cross the stage.

  We’re playing to a packed crowd tonight and it feels damn good. The screams and whistles fill the space; the energy here is electric. I look over at West. He’s grinning at me, loving it as much as I am. I then turn to Nate, the bass guitarist playing with us tonight, and he’s grinning at me too. I fucking love this job.

  Looking out at the audience, I speak into my microphone. “Hello Brisbane! How the fuck are you tonight?”

  They go wild, yelling and screaming again. And then Van plays the riff from one of our number one songs, ‘Grind’, and the roar from the crowd is deafening. Hunter starts the drums and then Nate kicks in with the bass. West is in there, too, and when he joins me at the front of the stage, with his trademark cocky moves, the audience lap it up.

  I put my hand to my ear and yell, “Didn’t quite hear you. How the fuck are you, Brisbane?”

  While they scream in response, Van comes to the front of the stage also, and leads us further into the song with an extended solo. Once he’s done, I start singing, and the energy I always feel when I perform takes over. It’s unlike any other feeling in this world. Sex comes close but doesn’t quite match it for me. I’m connected not only to my band mates but also to thousands of people who are in the moment with me, feeling the beat, and letting that beat and the lyrics touch their soul. We’re making sweet fucking music up here from nothing, and there’s no better feeling than that.

  The first song ends and we go straight into our second song for the night. We’ve got time for four so we’ve chosen three of our most popular songs, and then we’re going to treat the fans to one of the songs we’ve recorded for the new album.

  Our second one is a huge crowd favourite, mainly due to the drum work Hunter does on it when we perform live. He takes it away tonight with a fucking amazing solo, and Nate surprises the hell out of me when he steps in at the end of the solo and works some magic with Hunter. They extend the solo
together and the fans go wild over that. We’ve worked with Nate a few times and I decide during this song that we should explore involving him more in the band. A full time bass guitarist is something we’ve never had in Crave because we’ve never found one who we all got on with enough to ask to stick around, but maybe Nate could fill that slot. He certainly works well with Hunter and that’s one of the main requirements of a good bass player.

  As we finish the second song, West grabs the microphone off me and takes over while I grab my guitar.

  “Who wants to see what we’ve been working on for the new album?” he asks the crowd, revving them up for the next one. They cheer and he continues, “Van and Jett might have something for you, but only if you give me something in return.”

  I join him and Van back at the front of the stage. Leaning into the mic, I say, “West always fucking wants something.”

  More screaming from the fans as West chuckles. “Everyone wants something, man. Can anyone guess what I want?” he asks the audience.

  Women yell out suggestions and West laughs again. “Yeah, I’d take a blow job, gorgeous, but that’s not what I was thinking.” While we wait for him to tell us what he’s after, Van starts his solo off and the crowd’s attention swings to him. The song is an angry one about being cheated on. It’s one Van wrote by himself and he gets lost in the solo completely. I’ve no doubt this song is about him being cheated on by Caitlin and when I join in the guitar solo with him, our eyes meet and I see the torment he’s experiencing.

  Fuck, maybe Presley was right when she said he was trying to tell me something through his anger. This breakup is obviously affecting him more than I realised.

  As Van and I play the beginning of the song, West yells into the mic, “Brisbane, have you figured out what the fuck I want yet?” He jerks his thumb at us and adds, “These two won’t play anymore of the song until I get what I want.”

  He’s playing with them, a huge, cocky grin on his face, loving every minute. West is the ultimate performer; his soul would shrivel if he couldn’t perform any longer.