by Franca Storm
“Mitch,” John growls.
“The minute you touch her, that’ll be another hour of you two holed up in here fucking each other’s brains out.”
Chloe laughs and eyes me with raised eyebrows. “Guy’s got stamina, huh?”
I grin at her and nod.
John argues with the two of them for a little while longer before finally accepting defeat, picking up his clothes and heading into the bathroom to get dressed. Downstairs to the bar it is then. I guess we had to return to civilization at some point.
***
Mitch and I laugh as we sit at the booth in the hotel bar watching John order a drink and deal with yet another woman trying to hit on him. A voluptuous brunette with her boobs spilling out of her corset top this time. He does what he did with the last two: rolls up the sleeve of his t-shirt, points to his new tattoo and then grins at me. The woman follows his line of sight to me and gets the message. This time as she sidles away from him, he says something to her and gestures to Mitch. The woman smiles and John gives Mitch a chin lift.
“Best wingman ever,” Mitch says from beside me as he gets to his feet. “Thank you, Nicki. I love this whipped version of John. Means I get dibs on all the hot ones for once. No John Kingston cast offs anymore, just the cream of the crop.”
“Well, enjoy,” I tell him, patting his shoulder.
“Oh, I will,” he says as he makes his way to the bar.
John claps him on the back as he makes his way back to me. He slides into the booth next to me and wraps his arm around me possessively. “You okay, baby?”
“Yeah. That was sweet of you. How did it feel turning down all those hot women?”
He takes hold of my hand and squeezes it like he always does. “The only hot woman here is you,” he says, giving me his look of love that always sends a delicious warmth through me.
I laugh. “Cheese ball.”
“It’s true.”
I relax against him. “Mitch thinks you’re whipped. I’m sorry.”
“Whipped, huh? Oh, I am. And I fucking love it.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, cuz I’m whipped by you. The only girl I’ve ever wanted. I’m a lucky guy and if that makes me whipped, I’ll take it.”
We both sit in comfortable silence for a while, drinking our beers. I scan the bar like I’ve been doing for the last half hour since we came down here. I spot Chloe laughing with Clint in a corner booth over on the other side of the room. I can’t believe he came all the way down here to see her. He must really like her—or her tongue piercing. I leave them be and continue checking out the bar, making sure that everything is okay; that it’s safe. Safe from him.
“Nicki, it’s okay,” John whispers in my ear.
I turn to him suddenly, my gaze snapping to his. “What?”
“You’re tensing up again.”
“Again?”
“You’ve been doing it on and off since we came down here.”
“I—”
“He’s not here and he won’t be,” he tells me.
Shit. I should’ve known John would be able to figure out what was going on with me. He knows me so well.
He takes my beer bottle out of my hand, puts it down on the table and then shifts to face me. “My dad and I have security keeping a look out. They have Greg’s mug shot. They know who they’re looking for. There’s no way he’s gonna come anywhere near you. You hear me?”
My brow furrows. “Security? How did you do that?”
He rubs his fingers together. “Money can do a lot of things.”
“Oh my God. You did that for me?”
He cups my face in his hands. “Of course.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I wanted to put you at ease. I want you to relax and enjoy this time, Nicki. This is our big break coming up here and I want you to enjoy every moment, revel in it like the rest of us. So, now you can cuz he’s not an issue. Okay, baby?” He releases me and hands me my beer. “Now drink up and let’s get down to some more celebrating.”
A huge smile spreads over my face. I can’t believe he went to such lengths for me.
We clink our beers together. “To the sweetest, most amazing boyfriend ever!”
He laughs. “Damn straight.”
Chapter 42
~John~
“Yeah. One hour in our hotel suite. I’ve already told Chloe,” I speak into my phone.
“Cool,” Mitch responds.
We hang up and I draw in a calming breath. We go on at Eclipse in three hours. The band will come together in our hotel room for our pre-gig ritual of slamming back a shot of tequila. And then we’ll head over to the club for a sound check before hitting the stage.
I’m dressed and ready to go in my leather pants and shirt. I’m wearing my usual black shoes with the amazing grips that I always wear on stage. Some surfaces we’ve played on have been more than a little slippery and, as the front man, I’m the one moving up and down the stage the most. I can’t afford a slip up like that in the middle of a performance.
I’m about to go and check on Nicki when she suddenly steps out of the bathroom in nothing but a bathrobe. The belt is so loosely tied around her waist that it might as well not be tied at all. I’m getting one hell of a view of her perky little tits and the sight of her sexy legs, right up to her thighs. Mmm…so hot. My cock jerks at the sight of her.
“You’re not dressed, huh?”
She flashes me a devilish grin. “I was thinking we should add another pre-gig ritual. One just between the two of us,” she says, sauntering over to me.
“Yeah, what’s that?” I ask, enjoying this little game.
She reaches into the pocket of her robe and pulls out a condom.
“Mmm…yeah, baby?”
She nods, her eyes darkening.
She doesn’t need to tell me twice. I snatch the condom packet from her and slam her against the wall. I free my cock and rip the packet open with my teeth. Rolling it on quickly, I then rip open her robe and push it off her shoulders.
She gasps as my hands cup her tits, teasing her nipples with the pads of my thumbs. She arches her back, pushing them into my hands.
I run my hands down the length of her hot little body, enjoying the feel of her warm, smooth skin. When I slide a finger between her pussy lips, she moans and bucks against me. She’s dripping wet. Always so ready for me.
She grabs the back of my head and forces my mouth to hers, kissing me hard.
I thrust into her, driving balls deep.
She throws her head back as I pound into her, slamming her into the wall with each powerful thrust. She screams wildly and her nails dig into my neck, marking my skin.
“So…fucking…tight,” I growl.
“Ah! Yes! Yes, John!” she screams as her pussy clamps down hard around me. She comes apart in my arms and I grip her hips to hold her up as I slam into her. Once. Twice. My orgasm hits me hard and I crush my lips to hers.
“Oh my God,” she breathes.
“I know,” I murmur as I bury my head in her neck while I catch my breath and we both come down from that sudden intense explosion of passion.
“This is definitely becoming one of our rituals,” she chuckles.
“Damn right it is.”
Chapter 43
~Nicki~
Chloe slams down the final beat and John thrusts his microphone into the air, signaling the end of our thirty-minute set. There’s barely a pause before the huge crowd around the stage erupts into a fit of deafening applause.
“Guys!” John calls out to the three of us. Mitch joins John on his left side, wrapping his arm around him and then Chloe. I bound over to John and he pulls me close. He signals us with a nod and we bow in unison.
We were amazing tonight; at the top of our game. I’ve gotten used to what an amazing—and sometimes distracting—front man that John is, but tonight he was on another level altogether. He really worked the crowd and he seemed to have limitless energy as he boun
ded up and down the stage. His vocals were right on the money too and I had to force myself to get a grip several times so I didn’t get swept away by the distinctive rasp of his powerful voice and mess up on guitar.
We break apart and exchange high-fives. I snatch John’s shirt up off the floor. Yep, every show has him ripping it off. In all fairness, tonight he had a better reason than ever before. For once, we got to play on a real stage complete with professional spotlights and everything. And those things are hot as hell. I’m completely drenched in sweat myself and the leather pants are not helping one bit. But it was worth it. I look good. John had made that clear when we’d struggled to leave the hotel room earlier without him pouncing on me. My silver corset top wasn’t helping matters either. Poor guy. He didn’t know what’d hit him.
John’s gaze stalls as he looks out at the crowd. I follow his line of sight to see him looking at a bunch of A&R reps waving him over.
“Be right back, guys,” he says.
I grab his arm quickly and push his shirt into his hands. “You might wanna put this on first.”
He laughs. “Right, yeah. Thanks, baby,” he says, quickly slipping it on, before hopping off the stage.
I walk over to Chloe and Mitch and the three of us watch intently as John strides confidently up to the label guys. He shakes their hands and they start talking.
“This is good, right?” Mitch asks.
“Hell, yeah,” Chloe answers. “Don’t forget what a professional schmoozer John is.” She looks at me, suddenly aware of what she’s just said. “Nicki, I…uh…I didn’t mean the women. I meant, in general.”
I smile and wave my hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. You’re right. He’s got this.”
It hasn’t bothered me for a while now. I’d even seen a couple of girls in the crowd with their eyes on John tonight. He handled it like a pro, though, and flashed his new tattoo at them before pointing at me and winking slyly. I know it’s just him and me. I’m not worried anymore.
“Nicki!” a voice calls from the edge of the stage.
I look over and see John’s parents standing there waving me over. I walk up to them and they throw their arms around me, before I can even get a word out.
“The band was amazing,” Karen says.
“Thanks.”
“Truly. And John….something else entirely,” Tom says in awe.
This is the first time he’s ever seen John perform; the first time he’s witnessed his talent. If he wasn’t on board before, he sure as hell is now.
“We know he’s busy right now, but tell him to call us after. We want to take you all out for a celebratory dinner,” Karen says.
“Sure. I’ll let everyone know.”
They nod and then head off back into the crowd, navigating their way towards the bar at the rear of the club.
***
“You’d be signed to them exclusively,” Tom murmurs as he and John look over the two contracts at the desk in our hotel suite.
Me, Chloe, Mitch and Karen are sitting on the couches behind them, working on a plate of mini-cheesecakes that we had brought up to the room and listening intently, trying to make sense of the lawyer-speak between father and son.
During dinner, John received two emails from two different A&R reps for different record labels with an offer to sign the band. Both of them are prominent labels and, from what John told us, they’re both offering very similar things.
“I won’t compromise on the music, Dad. I need full creative control.”
Tom nods. “All right. Look at this one. It’s hidden in the fine print…” he says, trailing off as he reads whatever passage he was referring to. John leans over him and does the same.
“Yeah, I see it. Nice spot, Dad.”
“Just doing my job—both as your lawyer and your father,” Tom chuckles. “So, this one is out.”
John nods. “Agreed.”
They really get into it then and I turn my attention to the other three. “We were awesome tonight.”
“Did you really expect anything less?” Chloe says.
“I wanna do it again. I could’ve played all fucking night,” Mitch says. He stills and looks over at Karen. “Sorry about the language,” he says quickly.
Karen just laughs. “I suppose I’d better get used to it now that you’re all going to be rock superstars.”
Rock superstars. She’s so sweet. If only she knew what a party mouth her son already is. He always tones it down around her.
Wait…she’s right. We’re about to sign on with a label. This is…this is it! In all the excitement tonight, I haven’t had a chance to process it. But now it’s finally hitting me. This is a huge deal. We’re there.
After all these years…John has succeeded. This is happening because of him, his determination, his relentless dispensing of demos, online marketing, schmoozing the right people. Finally, John never taking no for an answer, never stopping until he gets what he wants, has paid off big time.
He turns around suddenly and announces, “Black Widow Records, guys!”
Chloe and I start screaming.
Mitch shoots to his feet. “Champagne! Now!”
Chapter 44
~John~
My head is still killing me and now I’m thinking eating when I woke up this afternoon was a bad call. My stomach’s not handling it well. Even driving down here was too much of an effort. It’s too damn sunny outside and my sunglasses aren’t doing their job well enough. Shit, I partied way too hard this entire weekend after our show and the life-changing news of signing with Black Widow Records.
All of us did, except for Nicki. I guess after her drinking incidents lately, she’s not letting herself get too out of control. Although, nothing would’ve happened to her while I was around. But she didn’t listen.
And that’s the reason why she’s been at my uncle’s gym for the last couple of hours, while I’ve been struggling just to get out of bed. It’s a Sunday and the gym isn’t open, but he’s allowing her to practice there. He gave her his spare key. I’m like the walking dead right now. But she wants me to train with her, so here I am. Now, that’s love.
I’m a few feet from the entrance when something slams into me. Caught off guard, I stumble and smack into the concrete wall of the gym. Hard. My entire body jars at the impact. I scramble to turn around and I find Greg smirking at me with two huge guys at his back.
“What the hell is this?” I demand.
“You won’t get in my way this time,” Greg tells me. “My friends are gonna make sure of that.”
He breaks from his guys and makes a beeline for the entrance. No way is this happening. I lunge at him. But, before I can reach him, his guys are on me, driving me back. Their fists fly at me, smashing into my face, my chest. As a boot plunges into my stomach, I fight not to hurl all over the tarmac. Shit, this isn’t the day to get caught up in a fight.
But all I can think about is stopping Greg from getting to Nicki.
He disappears into the gym and I struggle against the two guys to go after him.
But these assholes aren’t preppy little frat boys. They know how to fight and they’ve got a good few pounds on me. Enough to make a difference; that’s for damn sure. Shit.
***
I step back from the speed bag and spin around at the sound of footsteps. So, finally, John has shown up. Actually, I’m surprised. He’d been in such a state last night. He’d even turned down sex, because he was so wasted. I’m definitely teasing him about that later.
But when I turn around, it’s not John at all. It’s the farthest thing from John.
Greg comes striding into the gym.
His eyes find me immediately and a nasty smirk plays on his face. He has that predatory look in his eyes. It’s the same look he always had when…when he did things to me.
“Your boyfriend is busy getting to know a couple of my friends outside,” he tells me as he approaches.
What? John is in trouble? Oh my God. He won’
t be able to deal with that in his current state. He’s gonna get hurt. I need to help him. Now.
It’s one thing messing with me, but harming the man I love is another thing entirely. I can’t lose him. Not John. It’s incomprehensible.
Adrenaline courses through me. But this time it’s different. It’s not incapacitating. It’s empowering. I’m not frozen this time. I’m pissed as hell.
I’m not that scared little girl anymore.
I’m not a victim.
I’m not powerless.
Things are different now.
I have a better life and with the record deal, it’s about to get even better. And there’s no way I’m gonna let this asshole piss all over that.
That is it!
I am done with this.
It ends right now.
As he nears me, I don’t step back or cower as I’ve always done in the past.
No, this time, I step forward, assuming a boxer’s stance.
Surprise flickers in his eyes.
“You can’t hurt me now,” I tell him. He steps closer until he’s right in my personal space.
All the hurt and rage I have towards the pervert who hurt me almost beyond repair, rises to the surface and I thrust my fist into the side of his face. He grunts and stumbles back. “But I can hurt you.”
He recovers and lunges at me. But I’m ready and I dodge out of his way. I sweep my leg at him, kicking him back. He struggles to maintain his balance and ends up crashing to his knees.
“You little bitch!”
I stride over to him and grab his hair, tugging it painfully until he cries out. I don’t avoid his disgusting eyes this time. I look right at him, right through him as I say, “You know, John thought I was kidding when I said I would kill you. Let’s see, shall we?”
He tries to grab me and just the memory of him laying his hands on me four years ago, enrages me beyond belief and I lose control, slamming my fists into his face over and over again. I can hear myself screaming at him, telling him what a sick bastard he is.