Hating the Rock Star

by Hamel, B. B.

  Short silence. “Really?”

  “Really. Come downstairs. Now.”

  I hand the woman back the phone and she hangs it up with a smile.

  “Anything else I can help you with?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “You’ve done more than enough already.”

  “Wonderful. If you’d like to sit over there, I’m sure Mr. Hill will be down shortly.”

  She gives me a pleasant smile. It’s almost creepy, but I know they drill that sort of stuff into the people that work at these high-end joints. I sit down in a chair next to Grace over by the far wall and lean toward her.

  “We fucking got him,” I say.

  She grins at me. “You figured it all out.”

  I shrug. “Team effort.”

  She laughs a little bit. I can tell she wants to say more, but she holds it back for some reason. We lapse into silence while waiting for Landon. It’s like a fucking morgue in the lobby of this absurdly expensive hotel.

  He comes down not too long later, looking like hell. “I guess I got too drunk last night.”

  I stand up. I want to punch him. I want to yell at him. Instead, I hug him.

  “Jesus, Landon, I thought you were fucking dead.”

  He laughs and hugs me back. I release him.

  “I feel dead, man.”

  “Come on. We have soundcheck.”

  “Soundcheck?” He groans. “Oh fucking shit. I don’t think I can do it.”

  “You’re doing it.” I grab his arm. “Or else, motherfucker.”

  He grins. “What happened to being happy to see me?”

  “Short-lived. Come on.”

  Grace leads the way and we head out together. I flag another cab and drag Landon’s ass back to the hotel to get himself cleaned up and ready for tonight.

  Grace watches me the whole way back. I don’t know what she’s thinking. I want to ask but I figure she won’t talk in front of Landon.

  Instead, I sneak glances at her and wonder when she’ll finally forgive me, and when I’ll finally get another taste of her beautiful lips.

  15

  Grace

  I go to the show that night, even if I don’t want to do it.

  I turned off my phone after calling my parents to promise them that I’m okay. I’m tired of the calls and the attention. None of it matters, and none of it is real.

  I don’t know why I haven’t gone home yet. I keep telling myself that it’s because my boss will fire me if I do, but that’s not it. I’ll probably get fired anyway after this.

  The whole world knows my business, but they don’t know my truth. Everyone probably thinks I’m really in love with Joss…

  But it’s not that simple. It’s far from that simple.

  I go to the show. The guys are all extra nice to me, especially Landon and Joss. I smile and even talk to a few fans, but all I want to do is go back to my room and hide out from the world.

  When the guys go on stage, I find myself off in the wings with Karl, watching.

  He leans toward me. “They look good,” he says.

  “Except Landon. He’s barely upright out there.”

  Karl snorts. “That’s true. He’s not playing with his normal gusto.”

  “Still keeping time, though.”

  “That’s all they need. Your boy will handle the rest.”

  I glance at him, but he’s right. Joss is the star of the show, he always is. He has that charisma, that presence.

  He’s a pure rock star, as simple as that.

  I don’t know what I expected, getting involved with a guy like Joss. Coming out here, trying to play their game, I was never going to win. I’m just a normal, boring girl, and they’re rock star gods. They’ve done this a million times.

  Joss has chewed up and spit out plenty of girls before me. I’m just another name on a long list.

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” Karl says.

  I jump a little. “Excuse me?”

  He doesn’t look at me. “I know you’ve been feeling pretty shitty after what Joss did.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  He sighs. “It’s not your fault, though. Just hope you realize that.”

  “I know it isn’t.” I glare at him for a second before softening. “Why are you being nice to me, anyway?”

  He laughs a little. “I have a daughter around your age.”

  That surprises me. “Really? Are you married?”

  “Does it look like I’m fucking married?” He smirks at me. “I’m in the music business. I don’t have time to get married.”

  “Can’t be that bad. I mean, if you met someone.”

  He laughs softly, shaking his head. “Before Slide, it was Class Act. Before then, it was this hip-hop group. Before that, a string of grungers, back all the way to the glorious seventies. I’ve been on the road for forty years, and I never plan on stopping.”

  I bite my lip. “Not all industry jobs end up on the road, though.”

  “True. But if you’re going to stay with these guys, you’d better get used to it.”

  A hundred different things run through my head in that moment. I don’t plan on staying with them. Why the hell would I do that?

  Instead, I stay quiet for a second. “They love it, don’t they?” I ask.

  “Nathan and Joss especially. Chase does it because it’s cool, and Landon, well… Landon always wanted to be a rock star, but I think it’s catching up with him now.”

  That’s what Joss said, I realize. “Well, it doesn’t matter. This whole marriage is a sham.”

  He raises an eyebrow at me. “You think so?”

  “It’s true.” I cross my arms. “He’s an asshole.”

  “Yeah, he is.” He laughs softly. “God, you’re so much like my Victoria.” He turns to me, suddenly sincere. “Look, let me give you some advice, okay?”

  I frown at him. “Fine,” I say.

  “It’s okay to be happy. It’s okay to have some fun. But… hold something back. Don’t give him everything, not right away at least.”

  “I don’t plan on giving him anything.”

  “Yeah, sure, whatever, kid. Listen, just remember what I said. Have some fun, it’s okay. Just don’t lose what you got.”

  I don’t know what he means but he doesn’t elaborate. As Slide launches into their next song, Karl walks away from me, shaking his head.

  I watch him go. I can’t get a read on him at all. He thinks I should go home, I’m going to ruin the band, but he’s also trying to give me advice that sounds a lot like protecting me. It’s confusing and weird.

  Maybe he’s not so bad.

  I look out at the rock star god on stage, strutting toward the crowd, singing loud and strong. Joss is beautiful, glowing bright, almost burning my eyes.

  Karl might be right. If I give that rock star everything I have, he’ll take it gladly, and he’ll never give it back.

  But he’s so damn fun…

  * * *

  The final notes of the show are still ringing in my head a few hours later as I flop down onto the bed of my hotel room.

  As soon as it was over, I got out of there. I couldn’t stand to face Joss again. I don’t know why. The magic spell fell over me and I found myself wanting him so badly, and hating him all at once.

  I took a cab back here, practically running away from the guys as the back-stage groupies hustled toward them. I think Joss called after me, but I didn’t stop to look back.

  I really don’t hate him, despite what he thinks. I know I should, since he really did destroy my entire life, but it’s not that simple. I can’t just turn this off… whatever this is.

  This desire, this need. This strange ache that’s been deep between my legs ever since we got married, and only intensified in Philadelphia.

  He’s been showing himself to me, bit by bit. I feel like I’m actually starting to know him, and there’s more than just an empty rock star jerk in there. The juxtaposition between that side of him and the
cocky bastard that ruined my life is driving me insane, and I don’t know what to do about it.

  I risk turning on my phone and I’m instantly rewarded with a ton of missed calls, texts, and notifications. I just ignore it all, flipping mindlessly through Facebook.

  The box of puzzle pieces sits on the nightstand and I keep glancing at it, wondering.

  For a second, I think I’m dreaming. There’s a knock at the door, but that can’t be right. All the guys should still be back at the theater. I haven’t been here for very long and they always spend some time at the venue after a show.

  But no, I’m not dreaming, and there is someone knocking. I figure it’s probably Karl, so I toss my phone aside and get out of bed. I force myself across the room. I force myself to open the door.

  Joss looks back at me, a little sad smile on his lips.

  “There you are.”

  I bite my lip, surprised. He’s still sweating, just a little bit. He looks incredible in his tight shirt, his tight jeans. Muscular, lean. He still has a hint of that magic, still lingering on his skin. I can practically taste it.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He laughs softly. “Nice to see you, too.”

  “I just mean, you usually, I don’t know… unwind.”

  “I don’t need to unwind.” He cocks his head. “I needed to see you.”

  I take a breath, slowly let it out. It’s okay to have fun.

  Even if I can’t stand him?

  “Here I am.”

  “Yeah, here you are.” He leans toward me. “Gonna let me inside?”

  “I think that would be a huge mistake.”

  “Good. Make it.”

  I sigh and step aside. He walks past me, strutting into my space like he owns the place. I follow him inside as he sits at the end of the bed.

  “I wanted to thank you,” he says.

  “For what?”

  “Helping me with Landon.”

  “You did all the work.”

  “Not really.” He adjusts himself, leaning closer. “We did it together.”

  “Why are you really here, Joss?”

  He shrugs. “You ran off. I wanted to see you.”

  “Remember how you ruined my life recently? Maybe I didn’t want to see you.”

  He grins at me. “But you don’t hate me.”

  “Just because I don’t hate you doesn’t mean I like you.”

  “Good point.” He stands up. I suddenly feel close to him, way too close. I step back and bump into the desk, rattling the chair. He smiles and steps closer, following me.

  “I know you’re pissed,” he says softly. “But you’re still here. You’re still coming to the shows.”

  “I have no other choice.” My lips hang open and I’m staring at him like I want him.

  Because I want him.

  Oh, god. This is so stupid. He screwed me over. He’s an asshole. A bastard. He uses women. I should run, run away, far, far away.

  “You can leave anytime you want and you know it,” he says. “What’s really keeping you here?”

  “Nothing,” I say, looking away.

  He takes my chin and tips my face back toward him. I don’t fight back. I don’t move a muscle.

  “I was thinking about you, out on the stage,” he says softly. “That’s like one of the few places I can actually think. And I realized something.”

  “What did you realize?”

  “You’re here because you want me. There’s no other reason. It’s not the divorce, your job, anything. You want me and you don’t know what to do about it.”

  “I don’t want you. We’re married.”

  “You’ve wanted me ever since the first time you saw me. You married me, you kissed me, you came with me, you don’t hate me… because you want me. And it’s driving you insane.”

  He comes closer and I put my hands on his chest. “What do you want from me?” I whisper.

  “I want you to know that it’s driving me just as crazy, and I’m done waiting. Now I’m giving us both what we want.”

  He kisses me then and I know I’m not stopping him this time.

  I’m not pulling back. I’m not walking away.

  It’s okay. Even if I hate him.

  I kiss him deep and full and his body presses against mine. I stifle a gasp as he pulls the hem of my shirt up and over my head. I let him toss it onto the floor, his hands all over my body, my breasts. He unhooks my bra as I struggle to get his belt unbuckled. He grunts and helps me pull his pants down.

  I gasp as he turns me around, bending me over the desk. He kisses me from behind and unbuttons my jeans, tugging them down over my hips. His hands are on my ass and I can feel his hard cock press against me.

  He moves his fingers around my hips, sliding down between my thighs. I groan as he finds my wet pussy underneath my ruined panties. He teases me from behind, his cock hard against my ass.

  “Every night, you think about this. You watch me on stage and you come back here, wondering what it’ll feel like if I touched you for hours.”

  “Don’t be so full of yourself.”

  He laughs softly. “It’s only arrogant if it isn’t true, my little wife.”

  He slides his fingers inside of me, making me gasp. I hate him, want him, need him all at once. I turn to look over my shoulder and I kiss him as his fingers work my clit, sliding back out and in and back to my clit again, driving me insane, sending waves of pleasure through my body.

  He bites my lip and turns me around again. I pull his shirt off, and only have a second to marvel at his chiseled body and his tattoos before he kisses me again.

  He pulls me from the desk and pushes me down onto the bed. I land in a cascade of my own hair as he drops to his knees and tugs me closer, pulling my panties off and spreading my legs wide.

  My heart’s beating so fast. I hold myself up on one elbow as he kisses my inner thighs before finding my pussy, tongue sliding up along my clit, pushing inside and back out. He sucks and licks me hard, mouth tight against me.

  “Fuck, girl. You taste better than singing. You taste like music.”

  I groan and grab onto his hair. “Don’t be corny.”

  “I’m never corny.” He presses two fingers deep inside of me, licking my clit. I gasp, my back arching, as his tongue does something magic to me.

  My hands tighten into fists, gripping his hair, making him grunt.

  Good. I want to hurt him. I want to hurt him so badly.

  God, but it feels so incredible, I can barely think about anything but the intense pleasure blooming along my skin. I wiggle my hips and he thrusts his fingers deeper, tongue tight against my clit. I groan, low and deep. I can feel it building, that pressure that’s been hanging between us since we met.

  I know this is what I’ve wanted. I hate myself, I hate him, but this is what I’ve wanted. His body against mine, the pleasure I know he can give me. I’m desperate for it as I move my hips along with him. He cups my ass with his free hand, lifting my hips up, arching my back more. His fingers slip deeper, stroking the top of my pussy, finding the tiny spot that drives me absolutely insane.

  More pleasure, distinct and overwhelming, blooms through my core as he strokes me. His tongue keeps sucking my clit but I think he knows. He grips my ass tighter, fingers stroking and pressing that spot, sending shivers all along my skin. My legs start to kick out straight but he stops me, pressing me back down to the bed.

  I grip his hair and pull it. Fucking bastard. He better not stop.

  He grunts and grabs my wrists, wrenching them away. He pins them down on the bed.

  “Asshole,” I say, struggling.

  “This is what you want?” he asks. I managed to get one hand free and I push at his chest, clawing at him.

  I’m suddenly so angry I can barely breathe. “Fuck you,” I say, thrashing against him.

  He laughs, pinning me back down. He bites a nipple and kisses around my belly button. I groan and thrash again as he grabs me and turns m
e around, pressing my face into the comforter.

  He holds me there with one hand and pulls his cock from his boxer briefs with the other one. My ass is in the air and I spread my legs for him, showing him my ass, presenting my dripping pussy.

  He grabs my hips as he pushes himself inside of me. I gasp and reach for the top of the bed, but he grabs one wrist, bending it behind my back. I fall back down to the mattress, face pressed into the sheets. I look back at him as his thick cock strokes inside of me.

  Pleasure and pain. Light and dark. I hate this rock star. I want him so badly it breaks me.

  He fucks me slowly at first, getting me used to his size. It feels good, it hurts, I want it. I move my hips, bucking back against him.

  He grips my wrist harder, wrenches my arm further, grabs my hair with his other hand and pulls. I grunt and move my hips faster as he pulls my chin up.

  I’m held there, totally controlled. I grip the sheets with my one free hand, up above my head, and let him slide his fat cock deep inside. I gasp as pleasure and pain mingle and bloom all along my skin, sending me into ecstasy. I roll my hips and push back against him, setting the pace. He matches my movements.

  “I knew you were filthy,” he whispers, leaning over me, “but I didn’t know you were this filthy. Or is this just how you work out your anger?”

  “This is how I fuck people I hate, I guess,” I say to him.

  That only makes him grin and fuck me harder. “You hate me now? Good, I’ll play along.”

  I take him faster as he moves deeper, fucking me, thrusting into me. He releases my hair and I groan with relief as he teases my breasts before grabbing my other wrist. I’m pinned to the bed, both my hands behind my back.

  I can’t move a muscle. I wouldn’t want to, even if I could. It feels too intense, too incredible to do anything but let him fuck me, use me, take me. I want to be what he needs, the body that gives him pleasure and joy. I want to feel that magic he conjures up on the stage down between my legs.

  And he’s giving it to me. He’s giving me every inch, every ounce, every single fantasy I’ve ever had about him and more. His cock, the way he speaks, the way he moves. I’m panting, gasping, moaning. I’m so dripping wet that his huge cock isn’t tearing me up, but making me scream. It’s almost too much.