Faster

by Deana Birch

  The band and crew spilled out in various corners. Gina perched on Sam’s lap while she burrowed into his neck. Phil and John sat on the couch. Shane was still in the chair, whispering to his black beauty.

  With regret, I dropped Louana’s hand and turned around to face her.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  The room went quiet.

  “You missed your fucking flight! The most responsible person I know, and she misses her fucking flight. I get off stage and you’re not even back here. Instead, you’re at the bar with some fucking dudes! Do you even want to be here?”

  An eerie calm came to her and she squinted at me.

  “Putain, t’es gonflé. Ça t’arrangerait bien, ça.”

  “What?” I was lost. Also, the French thing? Total kryptonite to my anger.

  “Maybe, Jake, it would be better for you if I left. Then you can fuck your blonde friend Candace in the ass, like she wants you to!” Whatever steam had left my body seemed to have built up in hers.

  And not without reason. Fuck. Ass Candy had been lighting up my phone all week. How the actual fuck did Louana know about her? I hadn’t replied, but I still felt a twinge of guilt.

  Someone whispered “yikes,” and a couple of people made small Ooo sounds of sucking in air.

  “Jesus.” She was a bit calmer. “This has been the worst fucking day.”

  “But the best fucking after show,” Shane said.

  I shot Shane a dirty look and stepped back. She’d been thrown into the deep end. I should have warned her about some of the overly zealous girls who came to our shows. But doing so would’ve meant admitting to having been a bit of a dog. Okay, a huge dog. The kind of dog with brandy that rescues people in the Austrian Alps. This was not what I wanted. My eyes traveled from Louana’s gold-painted toenails to her lightly glossed lips, stopping briefly at her chest. Damn. She was stunning, and she had on fucking pants. In fact, she was down-right scrumptious. I pushed my chest into hers and backed her up against the wall. I grinned and said, for her ears only, “Speaking French and no bra. I surrender.”

  The others must have guessed our show was over, because the hum of voices filled the air behind me.

  “What are you doing? We’re fighting.” She pushed my shoulder, but not too hard.

  “Oh, I’m all done fighting. I’m ready to move on to other things.” I hoped the tender kisses on her neck would thaw her cool wall. She deflated a little.

  “What about your butt buddy, Candace?”

  I stopped and exhaled, then focused my eyes to hers. “There were women before you, but no one since. Just you.” I went back to her neck. It seemed to be working. “Can we go up to the room now, please?”

  “No. If we go up now, we’ll never leave, and it’s my first time in Vegas. I want to have some fun.”

  “There’s lots of fun to be had in the room,” I tried, and wondered where I could get some rope to tie that woman down. Never leaving a hotel room with her sounded like the best way to spend my weekend.

  Gina bopped over to us. “Hey! Glad you two made up. Listen, we’re going to XS, and Sam won’t dance with me. Will you guys come? I hate dancing by myself.”

  “We’d love to,” Louana said, before I could turn Gina down. I dropped my head back.

  “Yay!” Gina clapped her hands together and skipped back to Sam. “Jake and Louana are coming!”

  “Where?” asked Shane.

  “XS,” she explained. “You should come too.”

  Shane shot a quick glance to his friend, who smiled at him.

  “We’re in.”

  “If you’re all going, so am I,” said John.

  “Slow down, boys, you haven’t even done the meet and greet.” Phil got up from the couch and got a bottle of water from the cooler.

  “Let’s get it over with then,” Shane said. He stood as well and pressed down his pants with his hands.

  I turned back to Louana to plead my case one last time. “I want you all to myself.”

  “Give me two hours to dance away my shitty day and I’m all yours. Promise.”

  “We’re good then?”

  “All better.” She kissed me and I nuzzled back into her heavenly neck.

  The flood of fans and well-wishers engulfed us, and Louana found a gear case in the corner with Gina. I glanced in her direction and shot her a few winks to let her know I was thinking about her.

  But then Candace walked in. Shit. We’d spent two days together a few months ago with some powder, pills, and a shitload of lube. She was a sweet girl, but unfortunately not the one I would take home to my mom. Not that I had ever taken any girl home to meet my parents. Yet.

  I did my best to ignore her, but Candace was determined. After she repeated my name several times, I had to at least acknowledge her. I caught a glimpse of Louana, who shivered and went back to her conversation with Gina. She must have decided not to watch. And kudos for that, I would have been a jealous asshole.

  Candace stood front and center with a smile on her lips and confusion in her eyes.

  “Hey,” she said. She reached for my arm and I flinched it away.

  Her face dropped, and her eyes darted from my arm to my head. Shit. This was a train wreck waiting to explode.

  “Hey. Nice to see you. Thanks for coming out.”

  “Thanks for coming out?” Her arms crossed and she leaned back. “Why didn’t you text me back? You said next time you were here to definitely call.”

  “Look, Candy. I’m sorry. I have a girlfriend.”

  “You have a what?”

  Three months ago, my own jaw would have dropped too.

  “I started seeing someone.”

  “Oh my God. You can’t fucking be serious. Who? Who is it?” She searched the room.

  I needed to put the kibosh on this. She was riding her anger down a dark and dusty path. I knew I was a dick for not replying to her texts, but I honestly thought she would get the hint and stay away. I told myself that whatever I did, I could not look at Louana and show Candace who she was. I didn’t need her going over there and vomiting the details of our time in that hotel room.

  “I’m sorry. Just shitty timing. No hard feelings.”

  “For you, maybe. Real fucking nice, Jake. I thought you were better than this.”

  “Nice to see you, Candy.” A tight smile from me sealed her fate, and I made the only dick move I had: I turned my back to her and found someone else to talk to. Unfortunately, that anyone happened to be another scantily clad fan aware of my reputation, but not my current relationship status. Candace spewed insults to my back, and without her eyes on me to notice, I checked in with Louana. Gina animated whatever story she was telling, using her hands and huge green eyes to emphasize her points, and Louana erupted in giggles. They were in their own little world. It made me happy for Gina. She’d seen too much backstage and deserved a partner in crime.

  I found my own sidekick and favorite shiny, bald-headed bass player next to the bucket of beers. Sam cracked one open and handed it to me, then served himself.

  “How’d the ass Candy thing go?” he asked with a wicked, taunting grin.

  “Not good.” I took a swig and wiped my chin.

  “She seems to be handling it well.” With the bottle of his beer, Sam gestured over to the couch, where Candace and one of her friends pawed through the dark hair of a docile and contented John. John would be happy. He was a tits man.

  I shrugged. There was no surprise in the scene. Turning back to Sam, I asked, “How can we get out of this XS thing? I don’t want to go to a fucking dance club.”

  “You will go with me, endure the same bullshit as me, and deal. I don’t want to go either, but Geens is tired of everything being about me and this band.”

  “Fair enough.”

  We clinked our bottles together, celebrating our defeat.

  ⸎

  Louana and I were the last to climb into the Hummer stretch, and it didn’t go unnoticed that Candace and her budd
y were now grinding tits in John’s face. If she thought it made me jealous, she was wrong. I knew I was a dick, but her behavior was pitiful.

  With our fingers interlaced, I brought the back of Louana’s hand to my mouth and gently kissed it. What had I forced this woman into?

  “With all the drama, I forgot to tell you how fucking great you look. Are you sure we can’t go back to our room? I’d like to confirm my suspicions of black lace panties.”

  She smiled. “Two hours.”

  “You said that an hour ago, so technically, you have one left.”

  “Two hours starts now. I’ve watched countless woman throw themselves at you, one of which is still in close vicinity. I have a lot of dancing to do to get it all out of my system.”

  God bless her for not looking toward John and the obvious show. I had no idea how she stayed so calm.

  “I’m sorry. Things have been fucking crazy since the song blew up. But I promise, the moment you walked out in the James Gang T-shirt, you’ve been the only woman I think about.” Maybe even before that.

  She climbed on top of me and her lips brushed against mine. Maybe we were headed back to the room.

  “Thank you for saying that, but I am still dancing for two hours.”

  “Ugh,” I groaned. “You’re impossible.”

  She kissed me again before returning to her spot. I suspected a set of eyes on me but ignored the temptation to confirm. I prayed we could make it through the night without any more drama.

  “Why did you miss your flight anyway? It’s so unlike you.”

  “The gods were against me, I swear.” Shuddering a little, she rolled her eyes and described her day, the traffic, the bachelor party, and the line at the hotel. I realized I was staring at her with a huge grin plastered on my face.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked with a cute smile.

  “I missed you. I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.” Her head fell to my shoulder.

  When we pulled up to XS, Phil left us to speak to security at the door, then came back.

  “They need five minutes. They’ll knock when they’re ready,” he said.

  “Don’t let go of my hand until we get to the table,” I told Louana.

  She saluted me as if she was obeying orders.

  “Seriously. It can get crazy.”

  When the knock came, my grip tightened. Phil exited first, followed by the two of us. He stood between us and the line of people who waited to enter the club.

  “This way please.”

  We followed security as Phil ushered the others from the Hummer. The crowd recognized the band, but we didn’t turn back. When the screams escalated, I knew Shane had made his appearance. The fans did love their Shane Murphy.

  Two roped-off booths waited for us next to the dance floor, and champagne chilled on the tables. We sat down first. Gina and Sam joined us, and John and Shane piled into the other booth. Phil pulled up the rear and sat with us.

  After slamming a flute of champagne, Gina said, “Ready?”

  “Are you coming?” Louana stood and held out her hand.

  I shook a slow no. “Musicians don’t dance.”

  “Your loss,” she said, shrugging.

  Gina pulled her into the center of the dance floor, and they disappeared into the crowd. The vultures circled now that the girlfriends had vanished, and Sam rolled his dark eyes.

  Two guys from the NBA leaned in to say they liked our music, and Sam asked them to join us. This was why I loved hanging out with my bass player. Sports small talk in the middle of a dance club, plus groupie deflectors. The only thing better would have been if John Bonham had reincarnated and given me a drum lesson.

  People rotated in and out of Shane and John’s booth at a faster rate. Even Shane got up to dance, which was unlike him. But then again, there was nothing like him. When he, Gina. and Louana came back to the tables, Louana was quieter and her smile was missing. Since she was without a place to sit, I pulled her onto my lap and introduced her to the basketball players. Her manners prevailed, and she painted on a happy face and shook their hands. But when a lull came in the conversation, she whispered she was tired and ready to leave. Hallelujah. Maybe the reality of my world was too much. Either way, I was ready to go.

  With the technical logistics worked out with Phil and a frown on Gina’s face, Sam and I eagerly escorted our girls out and grabbed a cab to go back to the Hard Rock.

  From the back, Louana asked, “I’m sorry, guys, but I have to ask. What’s going on with Shane and that woman? They seem friendly, but they haven’t kissed or touched each other all night.”

  I maneuvered around to face her. “Trust me when I tell you, you do not want to know.”

  “Shane Murphy’s sex life is an astonishing level of fucked up,” added Sam.

  “I don’t ask and I don’t judge,” Gina said, raising her hands before leaning into Sam’s chest.

  “What are you guys doing tomorrow?” Louana asked Gina.

  “Pool, gamble, nap, show,” she answered.

  “I’m down to hit the pool,” I said. I couldn’t help but wonder about her sunbathing habits.

  The insanity of the earlier crowds was long over, and when we pulled up to the hotel, no one recognized us.

  We walked toward the elevators in the lobby and Gina pulled Louana back and linked arms with her. When they caught up with us, they were both giggling.

  “What are you two so giddy about?” Sam asked.

  “Louana just taught me a new word. Mantrum.”

  “Mantrum?” he questioned.

  “Man tantrum,” Louana explained. “What the two of you almost had when I agreed to go dancing with Gina.”

  ⸎

  “Finally!” I smacked her little butt on the way through the threshold. The lights in the room were off, but the curtains were open. The flashiness of Las Vegas at night backlit her divine silhouette. And I pounced. Ready to have her all to myself and do as I wished.

  “Just need to freshen up.” Her lips pulled away.

  “I want you exactly how you are.” I brought her back to me.

  “Give me a minute.” She moved to the bathroom.

  “I don’t care if you pee on me,” I called from the entryway, half serious.

  “I do.” She closed the door.

  I undressed down to my boxers and waited for her on the edge of the bed. When she opened the door, she stood in black lace panties.

  “You are a ridiculously sexy man.” It wasn’t the first time she’d beat me to a compliment.

  I grinned. “And you are a ridiculously sexy little witch who needs to drop her drawers—I knew they were black—and get over here.”

  She moseyed over, and when she reached me, she turned around. With my nose at her ass-level, Louana tucked her thumbs into the waistband, bent down halfway, and slipped off her underwear, leaving her behind exposed right in front of my face.

  “Jesus Christ.” I fell back on the bed.

  She climbed into my lap and kissed me. We rediscovered each other’s bodies, communicating with small moans and airy curses. We moved through positions, sensing the other’s desires as we went. In the end, I found my release with her on top, our eyes locked with lust, our fingers tightly interlaced.

  10

  Excess

  * * *

  JAKE

  “Baby?” She gently rubbed my shoulder.

  “Mmmh?” I griped. Too much light. I grabbed a pillow and shoved it over my face.

  “I need to get out of this room. I need to do something.”

  “Okay, okay, I’ll get up.”

  But my eyes closed, and I could feel myself slipping back to dreamland. The only thing better to being in bed with this woman was being in her bed together.

  “Please?” she pleaded. “I can’t stare at the inside of this room any longer.”

  “All right.” I tossed the pillow to the side and squinted at her. “Pool?”

 
“Yes! I’ll send Gina a message.” She popped up and dug her phone from her bag.

  “Did you just call me baby?” I titled my head to the side as I propped myself up on my elbows.

  “Maybe.” She shrugged. “Why?”

  “It’s funny; I never liked those terms of endearment before, but coming from you, it changes everything.” I winked, then hopped off to the bathroom.

  We held hands in the elevator and I wondered what she had called her ex-douche. Probably not baby, since they didn’t speak English together.

  “What do people say in French? Cheri?” I asked.

  “Well, cheri means dear,” she said. “It’s kinda old school. My mom calls me mon coeur, which means my heart. I guess the best one is mon amour. That’s what my grandmother used to say to her third, and favorite, husband.”

  No mention of the ex. Good.

  “What does it mean?” I asked.

  “My love.”

  “Mon amour,” I repeated in a pathetic French accent, which made her both twinge and laugh. “What? Mon amourrrr.” I tried to roll the r at the end, but she laughed harder.

  “No offense, but your French accent sounds like Count Dracula’s talking.”

  I said it a few more times, laying it on even thicker and nibbling at her neck until the elevator opened to the lobby.

  ⸎

  Half-naked bodies littered the poolside, and the bright desert sun beat down on us. We must have been the last two people in the hotel to get out of bed. We found Sam and Gina in the VIP section, where the lounge chairs were more like beds. This was definitely the way to experience Las Vegas.

  Louana pulled off her sundress, revealing a small black bikini, and looked down to her chest.

  “Ça fait chier.”

  “What? And don’t speak French in public unless you’re ready for the consequences.” I winked.

  “I hate tan lines,” she said.

  “Don’t even think about taking that off.”