by Madelynne Ellis, Fleur T. Reid, Nan Comargue, Shannon Peters, Morticia Knight, Jordyn Mckenzie
At least he’d had the decency to announce the news to our faces before leaking it on his Twitter feed. When he’d walked into the rehearsal room, lugging his faithful Stratocaster in its battered leather case, I should have realised something was wrong. But somewhere down the years, the almost telepathic understanding we’d once enjoyed had faded, and now I simply assumed he was grumpy after a bad night’s sleep in a strange hotel room.
“Oh, and about time, too!” Paul put his coffee mug down on top of the speaker stack with a theatrical flourish and went to sit behind his drum kit. As half of the rhythm section responsible for keeping time and pulling everything together tightly, he liked to extend that role into the rest of his life. Mark’s lack of punctuality never failed to annoy him.
“Sorry, guys. I would have been here sooner, but—” Mark sighed, pushing a hand through his black hair. “Look, there’s no easy way of saying this, so I’ll just come right out with it. I talked to Jeannie for a couple of hours last night, and I just… I just don’t feel my place is in the band anymore. I’ve got things in my life I need to sort out. Things I should have dealt with years ago. I’m going over to Bodega Bay to stay with Jeannie for a while. She’s going to help me work through them.”
Savin' Me by Wendi Zwaduk
“You scared?”
Juniper sat at his feet, silent. Jacoby gazed down at her as he petted her honey-coloured hair, comforted by the silky texture and the scent of her flowery shampoo. Clad in nothing more than the silver, rope necklace collar and black stilettos, her head bowed and her hands folded over her lap, Juniper made the perfect picture of a submissive. Her lack of response served to fulfil his unspoken demand. “You may answer, pet.”
“Petrified.”
The certainty and honesty in her reply resonated to his core. He’d married her. He loved her and yet, he’d always felt there was something—someone—missing. He would never leave her, had never wanted to. “Look at me, love.”
Slowly she met his gaze. In her blue eyes, a million questions brewed. The collar glittered in the soft lamplight. He owned her heart. When they entered the bedroom, she willingly became his.
Juniper should’ve been enough for him. Jacoby patted his lap. “Sit. I want to look at you while we talk.”
Rising to her full height of five feet four inches, she stood before him. He ran the backs of his fingers over her taut nipples. When God created woman, he created perfection in the form of Juniper. She smoothed her hands over her hips, drawing his attention to the gentle swell. With curves in all the right places and an imagination nothing could snuff out, she suited him perfectly. She parted her lips and thrust her breasts towards him. The tight little buds beckoned to him, erect from desire, steel barbells glistening in the soft light. Nipple play factored into their lovemaking each time and he loved to hear her gasp and moan when he captured the dusky tips in his mouth or tugged them with the chain.
“You want to play, pet?”
She stared at him, unmoving.
“Although you are right to remain silent, I wanted an answer. Tell me, should I punish you?” The faint smile on her lips also lit up her azure eyes. He nodded. “A spanking. Four strokes should work—after we talk. Sit.” He loved their play, loved her more than life, but it wasn’t the same.
Rhapsody by Imari Jade
“You have to choose,” Axil Simmons told her.
Why should I? Bryanna Trosclair thought. It’s their problem, not mine.
“She’s not going to choose,” Collin Ripley, the falsetto-voiced lead singer of Simmer replied angrily.
He’s right. How could she choose between him and the twenty-five-year-old golden-haired Axil, who’d been her best friend and confidant since they were ten? “I’ll tell you what. The two of you fight it out and the winner gets me,” Bryanna said, hopping from the stage and heading up the aisle.
“Come back here, Bryanna,” their tenor and lead guitarist Axil shouted into the microphone for everyone in the auditorium to hear. “You can’t just leave like this.”
Of course she could. She, being a liberated female, could do anything she wanted to…except break up a friendship and one of the hottest bands in America.
“Okay, don’t decide,” he told her.
Bryanna stopped in her tracks.
“What are you saying, dude?” Collin replied from his side of the stage. “Of course she needs to decide.”
“No, she doesn’t.” Axil’s tone was defeated. “Put yourself in her shoes. Could you make this choice?”
Bryanna turned to face them and waited for Collin’s answer.
“No!” He stomped away from his keyboard and went backstage to sulk.
“You’re killing us, Bry,” Axil said. He strummed his guitar and began playing a haunting tune. He used music to cope with his problems. He’d been this way even as a child, disappearing into his attic studio whenever things got tough. During those times his music had lulled her to sleep at night as the sound spilled over to her house next door.
Bryanna sat down in one of the seats to listen to the sweet sounds of the strings as the music permeated everything around them. Axil was unreachable when he was like this, turned on and tuned out to the rest of the world. He could make a guitar sing when he put his mind to it. He’d wanted to be a rocker for as long as she could remember. Now he was the hottest guitarist in Northern America. How could she decide between him and the dark-haired, dark-spirited Collin, who with just one look had stolen her breath away?
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