It doesn’t take long for the shots to appear in front of us along with salt, a few lemon wedges on a napkin and our other drinks. I lean on the bar and sip out of the tiny red straw and Keith takes my cue and chugs his beer.
“So… ready to do some shots?” he winks naughtily, slamming his empty beer bottle down on the bar.
“I was born ready.” I wiggle my hips, amped up for some tequila and the funny feeling I’m getting being so close to such a hot and sweet rocker.
“Why don’t you use lime?” he eyes the lemons with a raised brow.
“I hate the taste. It’s nasty. Trust me, it’s better with a lemon,” I coax and gently place my hand on his tattooed arm. He looks down upon my hand and back up at me with a giant toothy smile. A surge of electrical energy bursts through me, ending not so conveniently between my legs.
I slide him over one shot and the saltshaker and divide the lemons between us. Pushing my hair out of my face. I lick my hand, douse it with a shake of salt, lift my shot and he follows suit. We clink our glasses together, lick our own hands and fire back the first round of lick, drink, suck. It tingles all the way down, firing my belly up at its destination. I know drinking tequila isn’t the best choice of drink for me because I’ll be sweating like a whore in a church by the end of the night. It warms me up like something fierce but I love it.
“So…What do you think of the lemon?”
“It was better than I expected. You have good taste,” he smiles, running his hand over my forearm again. Just as somebody from behind grabs a palm full of my ass. I turn to see who the culprit is and somehow Keith already has his hands locked on the man’s bicep. His eyes are huge with fear. I would be too if Keith grabbed me like that.
“You! Will apologize for groping my friend’s ass,” he states rather loudly, his voice is dark and dangerous. Wow, I feel special to have someone stick up for me like this. It’s kind of hot.
“It’s okay Keith.” I touch his chest. Oh my, it’s like a rock too. What the hell is with these men and having rock hard bodies? Johnathan, Stacy and now Keith. I think I might have just died and gone to heaven.
“No it’s not!” He stares daggers at my ass grabber.
“You won’t do it again, will you, mister?” I ask rather calmly. Although I’ve got hot butterflies tingling in my tummy thanks to this superhot rock star manhandling a guy for me. This is a first.
The man shakes his head without a word and looks like he might piss his pants. I reach over with my hand and take hold of Keith’s, removing its firm grip on the man and with my other I shoo the ass grabber off.
“You’re lucky she’s nice, asshole, because I’m half tempted to smash your face in,” he shouts, giving the ass grabber another menacing look. Damn he’s so hot.
Looking down, I realize I haven’t taken my hand off of Keith’s and he’s folding his fingers with mine. Cue the sparks, again. Looking deep into my eyes with a smirk I think he might lean over and kiss me. Shit, I hope he does. I refuse to make the first move. I can’t look like a complete hussy. I’m not one at all but he doesn’t know that.
“Hey I thought I just heard your ass yelling at some dude. What the fuck was that all about?” Johnathan asks Keith, announcing his disappointing appearance, towing a different girl than before behind him. The brunette is definitely drunk, swaying back and forth on some rather skinny hooker heels and she’s probably hopped up on some coke. Wow, this is so not my world. I drop Keith’s hand and he frowns at me.
“Some ass bag grabbed Em’s ass.”
“Ah….” Johnathan tilts his head down and examines my ass with his eyes. I swing around and push it against the bar to hide from his gaze. I am not a damn piece of meat. “It’s a nice ass. But she wouldn’t be getting all that attention if she’d stop wearing such tight of jeans.” He eyes me sharply.
“I am right here ya know? And just because I wear tight jeans doesn’t give men free reign to ogle it,” I snap.
The brunette stares at me for a second and goes back to trying to steadily stand in those stupid hooker heels. Desperate much?
“Listen Short Stack.” He pats the top of my head.
Oh, that motherfucker! I am so close to hitting him. I ball my hands into fists at my sides and clench my teeth together.
“If you don’t want men to want to try and fuck you, then don’t dress like you want it,” he says as smooth as silk. That’s it! I’ve had it!
“Listen dickhead! I am so tired of your shit already. How I dress or how I present myself is none of your goddamn business. Go find yourself a whore.” I point my stare blatantly at his companion. “And leave me the hell alone. I was enjoying myself with Keith over here.” I nod my head towards Keith. “Until your dumb ass showed up. So go take your misogynistic six foot five, tattooed, bling-bling wearin’ ass far away from me. Now! Or I will make sure you regret ever meeting me. Do you understand?” I scream staring angrily at him. I’m a damn teapot about to explode, and burn this mother down!
“Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?” he laughs mockingly. “What I understand, Short Stack, is that I get under your skin rather easily and threatening me isn’t going to make me move an inch unless I want to. Your little girly threats are as empty as your pockets. But I will take my very rich, very sexy rock star ass away because I choose to.” He goes to turn around and leave.
“You’re not sexy!” I melodramatically scream and I slug him so hard with all of my might right in the nose. He yelps and instantly covers his nose with both hands. Cue the blood! Hundreds of onlookers just watched me deck probably the most famous rock star in the world in the nose. Serves him right. I am so damn smug. But I don’t give a shit.
Stacy comes barging up through the crowd of gawkers. Man, he looks pissed. Shooting me a death stare, he escorts Johnathan by his arm from the club. I shake my hand, realizing how much it actually hurts to punch someone in the face. When I turn back around I shoot both tequila shots and the lovely bartender has a bag of ice ready for me.
“You so rock,” she smiles, sliding me over another shot. And I down it.
“Thanks.” I smile back. Fuck, my hand really hurts. Note to self- Next time I want to punch a man in the face. DON’T. Use a chair or a frying pan; it will hurt much less.
I turn my head and Keith is still there. His eyes are as wide as saucers and his beautiful mouth is literally hanging wide-open.
“What?”
“That was so hot!” he says, closing his mouth.
“Well the motherfucker deserved it and then some. I refuse to be taunted like that. I might be short but I will dress and act however I want. Maybe he’ll think twice about treating me like shit again.”
He nods. “I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Johnathan like that. Most of us have wanted to kick his ass one time or another. But you just did.” He smiles wide. “I just can’t believe it. You’re seriously my hero.”
I snort a laugh and shoot back another shot the brunette bartender slides my way. Oh what a night!
Chapter Four
I ride back in a different Mercedes smashed between Keith and Deacon, the band’s drummer. It’s a quiet ride, considering Keith being in and awe and Deacon maybe pissed.
“Where are your sex partners?” I ask them both, looking side to side.
“Mine is supposed to be meeting me back at the bus. Didn’t have room for her in here and I don’t want to have to find her a ride home,” Deacon answers.
“No sex for me,” Keith chimes in with a smirk, kicking his black motorcycle boot on top of his knee. Settles back into the seat of the car and stretches his arm over the back.
The car stops right outside the bus and Keith slides out first and Deacon gets out opposite of me. I wait for them to enter the bus when I am grabbed by the arm and drug over to the side of the bus by Stacy and he looks flipping pissed.
“Would you like to tell me what happened back there?” he asks. His mouth’s firm; I think he’s trying not to scream at me.
“Why don’t you ask Johnathan? Or should I say Mr. Womanizing asshole,” I shoot back.
“This little attitude you’ve got going on, Em, has got to go.” He shakes his finger at me.
Jesus, I’m not in first grade here. Stop treating me like a child.
“Listen Stacy, I love you. I’m not trying to be a pain. But I refuse to be treated that badly. I mean, come on, I’ve put up with a lot of shit from men over the years because I won’t sleep with them but this is much worse. He taunts me and degrades me and I warned him. And he wouldn’t stop so I taught him a lesson.”
“Oh you taught him a lesson alright. You nearly broke his nose,” he blurts, his tone dripping in resentment.
“But I didn’t, did I?”
“No you didn’t but I am sure it’s going to swollen and black and blue. We have another show in two days in Tucson. I just hope it looks better by then.”
“And what if it doesn’t? Does it matter that much? Women are still going to throw themselves at his feet. The damage to his nose might make him hotter. Women like to nurse men back to health,” I state rather bluntly, rolling my eyes.
“No it doesn’t that much. But you don’t know him Em and what’s gone on in his life that makes him the dick he is. If I were you, I’d lay off.” His tone softens. Finally.
“I didn’t ask to be treated badly, Stacy, and I didn’t start it. He did.” I point my finger to the back of the bus where I know his room is located. “I am sorry he has been through some shit. I can’t change that. Everyone has baggage. But just because he’s been hurt doesn’t mean he has a right to treat me that way.”
“I never said it did,” he shrugs with a sigh. “All I am saying is if you plan on sticking around, that you try to be a little more understanding. Johnathan is the way he is because of a lot of shit he’s been through and because he’s a rock god just amplifies it.”
“Okay I will try to be nicer. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have punched him.”
“Don’t tell me that Em, tell him,” he says, pointing to the same place I did.
I dismiss myself from my pissed off but very handsome best friend and go back into the bus to dress for bed. I step three feet into the living room and moans fill the air. Two men’s and a couple women’s. Welcome to the world of living with rock stars.
I find my bunk and pull out my bag. I pray I don’t see any body parts. I know there are women in those bunks and that’s where all the sex is coming from because I don’t hear any noise coming from Johnathan’s room. So I stop by the bathroom and take off my bra and slip into a pair of flower boxers and a baggy orange t-shirt.
Exiting the bathroom, I tuck my clothes back into the suitcase I left sitting on the dining table by the kitchen and decide now is as good as time as ever to tell Johnathan I shouldn’t have socked him in the face. But do I want to? No. But I am only doing it because it will make Stacy happy.
I walk over to his closed bedroom door. It has a mirror on the back. So when I knock I can see myself knocking. Kind of creepy. I lightly knock three times.
“Hey what are you doing?” I turn around and see Keith is talking to me.
“I told Stacy I would apologize for punching Johnathan,” I shrug.
“Ok,” he whispers and the sex moans get louder.
I’m fairly certain I hear a woman orgasm and I hear who I am sure is Deacon saying “Oh yeah baby take it all.” And she says post orgasm. “God, you’re so hot and so big.” I cover my mouth holding back a giggle and I look up at Keith and he’s doing the same. But when I gaze down, Keith has a boner, a rather big one attempting to break free of his jeans. He notices I’m looking and shoots me a sly smile before cupping his package so I can’t stare anymore. What a shame. Okay not really. I haven’t seen many cocks, so each one I do see is rather interesting. If that’s the proper word to use. Shit I have no clue.
I rotate back around and Johnathan is standing in the doorway behind me, hands gripping the top of the door frame. I didn’t hear him open the door. Well with the moans, I am sure I couldn’t. Jesus, his nose is all bandaged up and he’s wearing nothing but a pair of black silk boxers. His entire torso is ripped and the V at his hips is swoon worthy. I can’t help myself from staring. Most of his chest and part of his stomach is covered in more tattoos. Yep, even though he’s a jerk, he’s still hot.
“What do you want Emily? Are you here to gloat?” Johnathan asks. His voice is hoarse and deeper than I remember.
“No, can I come in and talk?” I inquire, playing up the sweetest voice I can conjure. Dammit, looking at him all banged up because of me is making me feel like a piece of shit.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Yes, Johnathan, you have a choice.”
He smiles and it’s not a dick head one. “Say that again.”
“Say what again?” I ask confused.
“My name.” He smiles again.
“Why?”
“Because, just do it,” he demands, and the asshole is back.
“Fine if it means I can talk to you. Johnathan.”
“Say it again.”
I want to stomp my foot on the ground like a damn five-year-old. This is getting ridiculous!
“Johnathan, Johnathan, Johnathan,” I repeat and he sighs a big sigh and moves out of the doorway for me to enter his bedroom.
“Now what do you want, Emily?” he asks rather nicely, resting himself against the wall of his bedroom. Tucking his arms across his broad chest. I plop myself down onto his rather soft bed. The blue comforter is still tucked into place, telling me he hasn’t been to sleep yet.
“I, Johnathan.” I smile and so does he. “Want to say I am sorry for hitting you. I know that wasn’t nice of me. I am not sorry for being a bitch because you deserved it. But punching you like that was uncalled for and for that I am very very sorry. I just hope we can get past all this and have a semi functional working relationship.”
“What if I don’t want one?”
“One what?”
“A working relationship.”
“Oh…. Well, I can quit.” I slump. “I know that’s what you wanted and I think after punching you. I probably deserve that.” My lip turns down into a pout and I stare at the floor, my hands resting on my knees.
“That’s not what I meant, woman, and you know it.”
I glance up bemused. “Um… no I don’t, and can you decide what you’re going to call me Johnathan because one minute I’m Short Stack, another minute I’m woman and occasionally you actually use my name.”
“I like Short Stack. I think it’s a cute pet name.” He smirks darkly.
“I’m not your pet, asshole,” I mutter.
“See, you want me to call you something nice which I think Short Stack is better than Bitch, because that’s what you’ve been to me since you walked through that bus door. But to you I’m an asshole and a dickhead and all those other wonderful things you’ve named me. Those are the worst terms of endearment I’ve ever heard.” He chuckles.
And I have this sudden urge to slap him again. Man, my emotions around this guy are like a freaking roller coaster. He gets to me bad and it’s not in a good way at all. Now Keith that’s a good way and Stacy—well he’s my best friend so it’s different, but good. Now Johnathan. HELL to the NO.
“Listen, I’m sorry I hit you. Don’t make me regret saying that because Stacy will kill me. Call me whatever you want. I don’t care Johnathan. But what I call you is never meant to be taken in any nice way. Trust me, terms of endearment will never be spoken to you out of these lips.” I point to my mouth while I pop my lips together. “I like myself too much to sleep with or touch you in any way shape or form. Let alone get to the point where I want to call you honey or sweetie.” I cover my mouth and bend over to prove a point. “Oh god please don’t make me sick.”
He laughs at me. Yep I think I proved what I needed to.
“Okay, well, Short Stack, I accept your apology and I too hope we can get along in the f
uture. Now get out of my bedroom so I can stroke my cock and go to sleep.”
I get up and leave. He nearly slams the door shut behind me and I can’t help but smile. I’m not fired, and I think we’ve come to some sort of rather fucked up agreement. The sex noises are gone and I can hear a few snoring sounds. I don’t even think to bother Keith or Stacy. So I ready myself to climb up into my bunk which of course isn’t easy for me being so damn short. I should have requested a bottom bunk. I step up on the edge of the bottom bunk to hoist myself up and a person grabs my ankle and then pulls back the red privacy curtains. It’s Mr. Drummer. With his brown hair and chocolate brown eyes and who would have guessed he’s naked as a fucking jaybird.
“Hey bunk mate.” He winks and bounces his eyebrows rather suggestively.
Man, could my night get any worse?
“Hi, D can I go to sleep now?” I try to tug my ankle out of his grasp. It doesn’t work
“Why don’t you sleep down here with me? I can keep you extra comfy.” He pats his free hand on his mattress. I stare at his face. But his cock is hanging out and it’s hard and rather big. Well not that I’ve seen many to compare it too. Only two naked in my entire life. His makes three.
“No, D, I think I will sleep in my own bed. But thanks for the offer.” I lie because I’m tired of the night’s drama and because if he lets me go I can go to sleep. I’m suddenly beyond exhausted. And he still won’t let up.
“So I hear you punched the big man tonight.”
“Yep, now let me go.” I try to tug away again and his grip tightens. Man, I am starting not to like this asshole. Are all the men in the band womanizing pigs?
“That’s really hot. You know, sticking up for yourself and punching him. It makes me hard just thinking about it.” He winks rather disgustingly and fists his cock with his free hand.
Stricken Rock Series: Complete Box Set Page 3