A FILTHY Rock Star: a filthy line novel

by Kidman, Jaxson

“I’m just looking out for the band,” I said. I lifted my sunglasses and stared down at Toby. “I mean…it’s all about the band, right? About the new contract, right? So you can get a piece for yourself?”

  “Or is it you looking for a piece just for yourself?” Dex asked.

  “Olivia?” Toby asked. “She’s off limits. Jesus Christ, Nash…”

  “I didn’t say a thing,” I said.

  A horn beeped and I smiled as a black limo pulled into the parking lot.

  “What the hell is this?” Toby asked.

  “My ride,” I said. “I’m going home.”

  “Nash,” he growled.

  I walked to the limo and opened the back door. I looked over my shoulder. “Or we could go pick someone up.”

  Toby rubbed his jaw.

  Dex grabbed Toby’s shoulder. “You know Jay, Reed, and Sab are probably halfway to the moon by now on the bus. Stage crew left a long time ago. Tickets are sold. Merch is being set up. The Line Whores are already lined up waiting to see us…”

  Toby shook Dex away. “Dex, get on the goddamn tour bus. Tell Bill to start driving.”

  “A show without me?” I asked.

  “You’ll be there,” Toby said. “And so will Olivia.”

  * * *

  I opened the door and climbed out of the limo.

  Oliva looked right at me and shook her head. “No.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t understand that word, babe,” I said.

  “First time for everything. No.”

  “If you don’t get into this limo then I’m cancelling the rest of the shows for Filthy Line. That’ll set off a chain reaction of events that will end up with your old man losing a big deal with the band and you taking the heat for it.”

  “A simple hello would have been a nice start too,” she said.

  “You started it. I don’t like the word no.”

  “Thought you just said you didn’t know what it meant.”

  “Are we going to keep wasting time?”

  “I’ve got nowhere to be, Nash,” she said.

  She folded her arms and they were tucked nicely under her breasts.

  “Yet you packed some bags,” I said.

  “Toby said he needed me for a special event.”

  I laughed. “He has a way with words to get what he wants. See, he just plays games. Typical shithead business person.” I walked up the old concrete steps until I was one step lower than Olivia. “Me? I just do and say what I want.”

  “Which is the reason I’m standing here.”

  “And you’re welcome for that. You want to become a big, famous writer, huh? I have something really big you can write about.”

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “If that shit works on your groupies, save it for them.”

  “So you’re more sophisticated than that?”

  “Apparently.”

  I leaned in and had my lips an inch from her ear. I could smell the soap she used to wash her face. The shampoo scent in her hair. The smell of her laundry detergent. And a little hint of perfume clinging to her neck. The tip of my tongue tingled, wanting a forbidden taste.

  “You’re going to come with us on the road for the last few shows, babe. And you’re going to experience everything this band has to offer. You’re the only one who’s allowed to write about what happens on the road.”

  “Which will be nothing,” Olivia said. “Remember…”

  “Untouchable,” I whispered.

  I moved my head so the tip of my nose was so fucking close to hers.

  Her eyes widened.

  She blinked fast.

  Her lips quivered for a second.

  I reached down and grazed my fingers against the back of her thigh.

  Her muscles tightened.

  “Just getting one of your bags, babe,” I said.

  I backed down the steps with a purple suitcase.

  “I’m getting my own room,” she called out. “No. You’re getting me my own room. On a different floor in the hotel. I want to be as far away from you as I can.”

  “That’s fine,” I said. “You just have to ride in the limo with me to the show.”

  “No.”

  I lifted the purple bag and slammed it on the trunk of the limo. I looked at the zipper and grinned. “No lock, babe. That’s dangerous.”

  “What are you doing?” Olivia yelled.

  “Going to snoop through your clothes,” I said. “Find out what kind of panties you wear. Something’s got you wound up tight.”

  Olivia’s face burned red as I unzipped the bag.

  She came running at me with force.

  As I flipped up the lid to the suitcase, she was right there to smack it back down.

  “Did I just see pink lace in here?” I asked. “Damn, babe, are you looking for your own Line Whore?”

  “What? No. I don’t… I mean…”

  “Flustered,” I whispered. I put my hand to hers. “It’s okay. Whatever happens on the road can stay there. It’s okay to experiment. You might find you like the taste.”

  Olivia curled her lip. “I’d rather taste another woman than go near you.”

  I leaned toward her. “That makes me so fucking hard, babe. Say it again.”

  Olivia pulled her suitcase away and zipped it back up. She swallowed hard. Then she slowly smiled.

  “What’s so funny, babe?”

  “You were right.”

  “About what?”

  “The panties,” she said. She put her suitcase on the ground. “Pink. Lace. So fucking slutty too, Nash. And the best part… you’ll never see them. Ever. Now open the fucking trunk.”

  I backed away and signaled to the driver to do his damn job.

  Because Olivia had done hers.

  My dick throbbed in my jeans and my eyes kept looking at the bottom of her shirt, waiting for a glimpse of it to pull up so I could see what kind of panties she was wearing.

  She was using my own charm against me.

  And I didn’t like it.

  I could have left her ass right there on the sidewalk.

  But what was the fun in that?

  6

  OLIVIA

  My phone buzzed on the seat next to me again.

  I shut my eyes.

  Heat rushed to my cheeks.

  OMG this is fucking horrible.

  Nash tried to get my phone like he did the previous times.

  “Is that your mother again?” he asked with a sly grin.

  I told him the first couple of times it was my mother. Then my father. Anything to try to keep him on edge and maybe away. Truthfully my father probably had no clue where I was and my mother was working on her next drink and her next pool boy fling.

  All I had to do was endure this.

  Prove I could make Nash look good.

  Get him to sign whatever contract they all wanted.

  And then I was gone.

  “Tell me who it is or I’ll find out anyway,” he warned.

  “How far away are we?”

  “A little while,” he said. “Could be worse. Could be stuck on the tour bus. Be thankful I got us a limo. I was going to have Bill bring the bus.”

  “Bill?”

  “Our driver,” Nash said. “Been with us for years. Since the first real tour.”

  “He deals with… all of this?” I asked, making a circle around Nash’s face with my hand.

  “Who wouldn’t want to deal with all of this?” Nash asked, pointing to himself.

  “I can name at least one person.”

  Nash leaned toward me. “I call bullshit on that, babe. You’re a fan. Your father told me.”

  I shut my eyes and cringed. “No, he didn’t…”

  “Oh yeah,” Nash said. “Funny how our lives work, right? I was eighteen, heading west for the dirty city to become a dirty rock star. And what were you doing? Living the high life on Daddy’s dime, partying with your friends, going to the beach every day, looking for preppy boys to fuck.”

  “
Excuse me,” I said. “Not even close. I had a steady boyfriend…”

  I let the word linger.

  Fuck.

  What the hell was I thinking?

  Letting something like that slip?

  “Boyfriend,” Nash said. “Had…”

  I shut my eyes. “It’s Zoe.”

  “Zoe?”

  “That’s who’s texting me,” I said. I needed to change the subject. “She’s a big fan of the band. She was the one who got me into the music. Okay?”

  Nash nodded. “You told her you were with me?”

  “She was at the show when you set the car on fire,” I said. “I had brought my friends with me.”

  “But now you’re alone.”

  “Toby said I needed to come alone.”

  “But you told your friends?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Just so they’d know where I was.”

  “And your friend Zoe is texting you that much, huh?”

  “She’s a big fan,” I said.

  Nash leaned toward me. “I bet she’d be a Line Whore.”

  I swallowed hard.

  It tasted like jealousy.

  That was not a good thing.

  “You obviously chose the wrong person then,” I said. “We can go back to get her. You’d love her. Tall, skinny, willing to do anything with a guy like you.”

  “How big are her tits?”

  “What?”

  “I have preferences,” Nash said.

  “No. I’m not answering that.”

  “Are they nicer than yours?”

  I turned my left shoulder, trying to block myself. I looked down at my shirt then back up. My face burned hot again.

  “Just asking a question,” Nash whispered.

  “I’m not answering anymore questions,” I said.

  “You can text your friend back.”

  “She wants a picture,” I said.

  “Of us?” Nash asked.

  He leaned toward me even more. I threw an elbow to knock him back.

  “Not of us,” I said. “Of you. Of a certain body part.”

  Nash laughed. “Wow. She really is the crazy one, huh?”

  My lip snarled.

  OMG Liv… please don’t be jealous…

  “It’s only because you’re famous.”

  Nash moved fast.

  I thought he was going to kiss me or something. My guard was down for a split second and he swiped my phone out of my hand.

  “Hey!” I yelled.

  He turned and had my phone in his hand. He put his left knee to the seat and stuck his ass toward me. I heard his zipper and let out a gasp.

  He’s taking a picture of his dick. To send to Zoe.

  “Give me my phone back,” I said.

  “Just let me send…”

  “Nash!” I growled from my gritted teeth.

  He sat back down, his jeans open, and he tossed the phone at me.

  I had to catch it, but it was like I was touching… his… you know…

  My hands started to shake.

  “You look a little flustered, babe,” he said.

  “You just sent a picture of your…”

  “Dick?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That.”

  Nash grinned.

  Everything about him was evil and sex mixed together. Dark eyes. Flirty lips. The hint of a few dimples that maybe teased someone that he wasn’t such a fucking horrible person.

  “Check your phone,” he said.

  “No.”

  “Don’t act like you’re not curious.”

  I gritted my teeth again and looked down at my phone.

  It vibrated with a text back from Zoe.

  lol omg you know what i meant

  Nash started to laugh.

  I opened the message and saw a picture of a mallard duck in a pond.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Read the text, babe.”

  That’s when I realized Zoe’s text came through as duck instead of dick.

  I looked at Nash.

  He winked.

  “You sent her a picture of a duck,” I said.

  “Yes.”

  “Then why did you unzip your jeans?”

  “Just to see your reaction,” he said. He looked down at himself. “Now I want to see another reaction…”

  Nash hooked his thumb into his jeans and started to push them down.

  My right hand reached across my body with my eyes wide and I grabbed for his wrist.

  My heart pounded inside my chest.

  He’s not whipping his dick out in the back of a limo… no way…

  At the last fraction of a second, Nash moved his hand away and I clamped down on… him… for a fraction of a second.

  My hand popped away and I jumped back, letting out a gasp.

  Nash stared at me. His eyes smoldering. Dark, rich, evil amber eyes…

  I took deep breaths.

  “You’re the one who’s untouchable, babe,” he said. “But not me…”

  * * *

  The second the door opened, it was chaos.

  That was the only real way to describe the band and everything surrounding them.

  People yelling orders and fans screaming at the sight of Nash.

  When I got out of the limo, people just bumped into me and knocked me around like I was an annoying fly at a cookout.

  I looked for Nash and saw him with Jay.

  They had their heads down, talking, security walking them around to the backstage area of the outdoor arena.

  Behind me there were tall gates lined with Filthy Line fans.

  I looked back and saw their arms and hands reaching through the narrow openings between the black bars, faces almost pressed against the bars, screaming for Nash. Every single person wearing a Filthy Line shirt. Carrying pictures and posters. Wearing bracelets and necklaces with the band’s logo on it. Saying anything to get Nash’s attention. Everything from I love you! to Please fuck me tonight! which was quite the thing to hear.

  At the last second, Nash jumped up on a black piece of equipment and gave a wave.

  The eruption of screams pierced my ears.

  He jumped down and was gone, swallowed up by security.

  I heard the sound of the trunk latch pop and the driver of the limo came around back and took my bags out and placed them on the ground.

  “What do I do now?” I asked him.

  “Don’t know, ma’am,” he said. “I have to go.”

  “Here, let me give you something for the ride,” I said.

  “No need. I’m taken care of.”

  He nodded and got back into the limo and drove away.

  I looked around again, amazed at where I was.

  There were people everywhere. Wheeling equipment, setting up wires, pointing, talking, yelling, standing under white pop up canopies as they discussed the show.

  I grabbed the handles of my bags and rolled them along.

  I had been to concerts before but not like this. I was on the back side of the venue. An entirely different view of it all. Not to mention I wasn’t there for the show. I wasn’t there with friends. We weren’t having a few drinks in the parking lot. This was business, I guess.

  When my bags got snagged on a chunk of wires, I turned and started to wrestle with them, trying to untangle the wires from the wheels.

  Some guy with long, ratty hair and a flannel with ripped sleeves rushed over to me.

  “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?” he asked.

  His arms were filled with faded tattoos.

  “I’m with Nash,” I said.

  He laughed. “I bet you are.”

  He got my bags free.

  I thanked him just as Toby came walking up to me.

  “There she is,” he said. “Glad you could finally make it.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  “What do you think so far?”

  “I was trapped in a limo with Nash.”

  “Did he do anything?” Toby
asked.

  I thought about his jeans being undone. My hand touching his…

  I swallowed hard. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Good. Let me get someone to grab your bags. I’ll have them taken to the hotel. We’re going to crash here tonight and redo all the interviews Nash missed.”

  “I’m not sleeping anywhere near them,” I said.

  “It’s already been arranged,” Toby said. “Nash made it clear. And I already planned on it.”

  “Nash said…”

  “Come on,” Toby said. “I’ll show you around.”

  We went maybe ten steps before a woman named Kate rushed over to take my bags. I didn’t even get a chance to warn her not to lose my shit before she was talking on a headset, wheeling them away.

  “Who are all these people?” I asked.

  “The ones you never see,” Toby said. “They make this possible. But at the end of the day it’s up to the guys to get up there and do their thing.”

  “Can I see the stage?” I asked.

  “Sure. You have full access, Olivia. Here.” Toby reached into his pocket and gave me a pass. I had to wear it around my neck. “You can go anywhere with that. You can talk to anyone. Ask anything you want.”

  “I thought I was here to just keep Nash out of trouble.”

  “No. You’re here to spin the story about Nash. Don’t forget that. Anything you see write it down, and be ready. There’s a lot of people that would love to see this band fall on its face.”

  “I take it there’s a lot of bridges burning?” I asked.

  Toby laughed. “Bridges? That was years ago. These guys have burned down cities, states, and continents with their shit. But, again, at the end of the day… there’s nothing like it. I’ve been with them since day one, Olivia, and I still stand there and shake my head at how fucking good it is.”

  Toby stopped walking and pointed to all the different rooms and hallways. We had gone inside the outdoor arena, which was kind of cool and kind of weird.

  A horn beeped and a guy cruised by on a forklift, carrying a stack of black boxes with the name Filthy Line spray painted in white on them.

  “Now, through here, we can go back outside,” Toby said.

  We walked side by side and emerged at the side of the stage.

  It reminded me of a gladiator movie where the fighters would come to the center, outside, and fight.

  The arena was huge. Empty seats everywhere, with the pattern of a bird across the back section. That was for the team that played at the field when it wasn’t being used as a concert venue.