Well, that’s not entirely true. Liz was always writing, always creating, and she had several notebooks in her luggage that kept all her notes and ideas.
What I’m trying to impress upon you is that the Vagabonds were held together by Liz. She was that band. The sound, though? That was both of us. If I hadn’t been around, the band would have sounded a lot different. I suspect it would have had more of a pop sound or even soft rock. Actually, no. Peter knew what he was looking for, what he wanted, and that was probably why he’d recruited me. He knew Liz needed someone else for balance, to push us into the rock echelon, somewhere we might not have been if not for my urge to headbang.
Anyway, this guy with us was asking questions about our songwriting technique, and I admitted that Liz wrote everything. I came along behind her and modified what she had, but it was all her. Liz never blushed but she had a hard time accepting direct praise. She smiled and said, “Yeah, but look what Kyle does with it. Oh, and then there’s CJ too.”
I frowned. I’d tried not to think about him. I’d been actively pushing him out of my head. I didn’t want to focus on him, didn’t want to give him any more space or time in my mind. It was sheer agony being so far apart and knowing that, even if we were closer, he’d still push me away and for what? A stupid goddamn number. So I mumbled something like, “Oh, yeah,” not wanting to say anything negative because, truly, I was hurt by him. It wouldn’t have hurt if I hadn’t wanted him so badly.
But the guy with us didn’t know any of that. Hell, I didn’t know how much Liz even knew about the weird thing (if I could even call it that) between me and CJ. I was working hard at keeping my face neutral when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I was pretty sure it was Andrew being creepy again, and I ignored him the first time. When he did it again, though, I knew I was going to have to let him have it. So I turned around, a grouchy look on my face, and blinked in confusion when I saw it was TT, one of our roadies.
I was so shocked that I didn’t even say anything. Instead, TT said, “Hey, Kyle, there’s some dude who wants in, says he wants to meet you.”
“So…why don’t you let him in? There are all these other people.”
“Yeah, who were vetted by Peter.” I couldn’t help myself. I almost snorted at TT using a word like vetted. It was almost comical, because the guy seemed to have a vocabulary of five-hundred words.
“Anybody know this guy?”
He shrugged. “I think so. I’m pretty sure he’s connected with the venue somehow…like the manager or something.”
“Jesus, TT. Then let him in. We need to make friends with these people—so we can come back in the future.” Evidence that my roadie friend smoked too much weed—he couldn’t make these connections on his own.
But he could use the word vetted. How I managed not to roll my eyes is beyond me.
Only I would find out later that maybe I should have listened to him. After all, unlike Peter, he had my best interests at heart.
“Violet” ~ Hole
Chapter Nine
SO I RESUMED chatting with Liz and our fan friend, a guy who was pretty damned knowledgeable about music. We were talking about some of our favorite bands when I sensed TT standing next to me again. I looked over at him and he said, “Kyle, I got this guy here. Name’s Eddie.”
I turned completely around and flashed my most charming smile. This guy was clearly not a metalhead, not the usual type of person who came to our shows. He looked to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, but I wasn’t a good judge back then. He was simply gorgeous. His hair was longer than business-type guys and went down the back of his neck, but it wasn’t long, definitely not rock star length. He had ice-blue eyes that were mesmerizing. TT had said this guy wanted to see me…but surely he meant he’d wanted to see the band.
I stuck out my hand to shake his and said, “Nice to meet you, Eddie. Did you see the show?”
Now…this was weird, but he took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. He placed a soft kiss on the back of my hand and then massaged the flesh of my palm with his thumb before looking up at me to say, “My pleasure…and I saw part of your show.” His eyes bore into mine. “You are amazing. Just how old are you?” I started to answer and then he placed his free hand’s index finger on my lips. “Wait, no. I don’t want to know.”
There was a reason for that. I just didn’t know it yet.
“Let me introduce you to Liz—” I said, turning a bit so I could get her attention, but he stopped me. His hand was still holding mine as well—snug but not tight.
“No, I wanted to meet you.” If this guy hadn’t been so disarmingly hot, I might have found his insistent attention a bit creepy.
I swallowed. Part of me was quite intrigued and titillated while part of me was a bit uneasy, but I ignored that part. I blame that on my youth—and beer. “Okay.” I smiled, wondering why he was so fascinated by me.
“I’d love to talk to you alone—where it’s not so loud.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Just you and me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m one of the managers here, so I’ll be able to find just the spot.”
I considered it for another second. It was flattering for someone to be fixated on me instead of the band as a whole…or Barbie as the frontwoman…or Liz as the songwriter. I didn’t mind attention for the whole band; it was important and I was a part of it, but it did all kinds of things for my ego to have that attention on me and me alone. I nodded and, when he held out his arm, elbow out (very gentlemanly), I placed my arm in his and let him lead me out of the room through the bodies sandwiched inside. It was probably a fire hazard to have all those people in there, but I wasn’t going to say a word. I was looking around for a place to set my beer, but he said, “You can bring that with you.”
I smiled and nodded. Okay, so this guy was all right. When we left the room and moved into the large corridor, I let out a long sigh. I hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until we left. It was noisier in the large hallway, though, because the music from Fluidity onstage wasn’t being filtered by an additional door. They sounded great.
But we walked clear down the hall until we got near an exit. The door was open, blowing in cool October air, and I saw several guys out there smoking. Seeing them, I wondered how we’d managed to get away with smoking in that little room where we’d been, or maybe those guys just wanted an excuse for fresh air.
Eddie turned and unlocked a door to the left. The door had a nameplate that indicated he was the “Events Manager.” His office was much like the room we’d been in—no windows, white walls that didn’t quite look colorless under the fluorescent lights, and small, but there weren’t thirty people crammed in here, so that helped. He had a desk with a computer and a small bookshelf behind it. There were two chairs across from his desk and then, up against the other wall, was a weight machine—Soloflex or Bowflex or something like that. It was then that I realized he did seem to have a pretty solid body. Hmm.
“We can sit down if you want.”
I nodded. I was feeling pretty light after all the beer I’d consumed, and sitting would help me stay upright. Mostly.
I couldn’t remember how the conversation had started, but he asked, “How long you been playin’ like that?”
“What? The guitar?”
“Yeah.”
I shrugged. I probably didn’t do modest very well, but I felt like it was important to try. Hell, yeah, I was proud of my accomplishments thus far and I definitely felt like I had a right to be, but that was no reason to come off as egotistical or full of myself. That certainly wouldn’t endear me to anyone, and I knew it because I was put off by big egos myself. Let your work speak for itself—don’t be a jackass full of hot air.
Still…yes. That was a hard thing to do at the tender age of seventeen, but I tried.
“Since I was twelve. Well…I’m sure my playing wasn’t that great then, but learning to play opened up a whole new world to me. I didn’t know it was a passion
until I did it, but—the whole world just kind of floats away when I’m playing that thing.”
He brought his hand up to my face, pushing the hair away from my cheek, and I felt his fingertips touch my ear. “You’re a sight to behold up there.”
I had no words. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I forced out, “Thanks.” He was making me feel tingly.
His eyes scanned mine, dropped to my lips, and then back up. His voice was lower when he said, “The whole time you were up there, I pictured you down on your knees sucking my cock.”
Did you hear the record scratch? Yep, that was me too. He’d been pretty cozy and I’d had the feeling he wanted a little more than to just chitchat, but talk about storming the castle. I could barely keep up, especially in my inebriated state. But I was still a smart ass and, even though my ego was in check, I knew who I was, what I’d done thus far, and what I was capable of. “Um…I think I’m the rock star here. I should be asking you for a blowjob, not the other way around.”
He started laughing. “Just because I imagined it doesn’t mean I was going to demand it.” His face grew serious again. Why the hell was I now thinking about giving this guy a blowjob? Was he really that charming?
Yeah, he was. He was fucking hot, even though the fact that he was at least ten years older than I (or more) was kind of freaking me out. I nodded but kept my mouth shut.
“But…if you considered it, I promise you I’d take very good care of you.”
Words escaped me. I thought of CJ for a brief moment again, of how he acted like he was doing me a favor by making me wait an entire year to sleep with him, but this guy—clearly aware that I was probably too young—was willing to risk it all for a taste.
And, in spite of the fact that he was too old for me, he was damned hot. And I’d had a little too much to drink. And he was tempting as hell.
I nodded. “Okay.”
He cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “You saying yes?”
I grinned then and nodded. “I think I am.”
He stroked my cheek. “I promise you won’t regret it.” He leaned toward me and kissed me hard, awakening in me some odd sensations. I could feel aggression there but just figured that was part of his technique.
He got up and opened the door, sticking out his head and looking both ways. Then he closed the door once more, this time locking it before walking back over to me. He stood beside my chair and held out his hands. I placed mine in his before standing at his invitation and then I froze a little bit. I wasn’t sure where to go from here.
He had it all planned out, though. He kissed me again and then his lips moved to my neck, and I felt my nipples grow hard in response. But then he stood up again and grabbed my t-shirt from the bottom, and I let him pull it up and over my head as I raised my arms in response. I felt my heart beating a little harder as I stood there in my bra with him staring. He placed his lips on my shoulder and I heard him mutter, “So sweet.” His scorching hands grabbed me about the waist as he moved his lips back to my neck and he kissed and licked his way to the bottom of my ear. His hands slid up my waist, then stopped just beneath my bra. I felt the breath catch in my throat as my mouth started to water, and I let the air seep out of my lungs as my body tensed up more, knowing he wasn’t going to touch me yet.
Eddie removed his lips from my flesh and pulled his shirt off. He too wore a concert tee and it had hidden that he was, in fact, pretty buff. He wasn’t overly done, but he was nothing like the metal gods I’d been worshipping for the past several years. Those guys weren’t out of shape or in bad condition, but they weren’t, for the most part, muscular in a huge way. This guy was. He was no wrestler, but his muscles were more than noticeable. The appearance of his body was important to him. I stuck out a tentative hand. How the hell had he managed to turn the tables so I was feeling unsure about this whole thing? So that I felt like he was doing me a favor?
But there I was, wanting to feel those ripply ab muscles and pecs, and he said, “Yeah, baby, touch me.” I felt a shiver rip through my body at his words and I let my fingers touch his pec, slowly gliding over his nipple and down to his abs. The sigh that rushed out of his mouth was audible. “Now I want you to unbutton my jeans.” How could I not obey this man? I couldn’t. I felt like a girl in school, only this wasn’t like any class I’d ever had before. I did as he asked and, before he could say another word, I pulled down the zipper too, and that was when I noticed his cock pressing against my fingers. He wasn’t wearing any underwear and he was apparently ready. “Yeah, baby. Touch it.” I looked in those cool blue eyes of his as I let my fingers flutter over the tip of his cock, my fingertip fascinated with the bead of moisture dripping out of the eye. I let my finger swirl it about as he clenched his jaw. “Suck it,” he said, not asking, not begging, although I knew that was what he was, in effect, doing.
I felt compelled and dropped to my knees, pulling his dick out of his jeans the rest of the way and licking the head. He sighed again and gathered my hair in his hands as I tentatively drew him into my mouth. I’d done this many times with my old boyfriend Decker and knew I was good enough to always make him come. Could I do it with this guy?
Turned out it wasn’t too difficult. I think he found the idea of a technically underage girl sucking on his dick to be an unbelievable turn on. I was pretty sure he was prolonging it as long as he could, but he was no match for my mouth. Before I knew it, he was tightening his grip on my hair, his fingers and palms pressing against my skull until he released his load and I took it all. I was squeezing his ass with one hand, the other wrapped around the base of his cock as I felt his body tighten and then relax in response to me.
That felt like power, and I wondered if there was a way to harness it even more than I already did onstage. There had to be a way. But I was in no state to figure it out right now.
Chapter Ten
EDDIE STOOD IN front of me as his cock grew limp. He had placed his hand on his desk as if to hold himself up. “Give me a minute, princess, and then I’ll do things to you that you never dreamed of.”
I looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow, wondering if that were true. I wanted to find out but I had doubts. I mean…how could an orgasm get any better, right? After another thirty seconds or so, he held out a hand again, inviting me to stand. “My God, you’re a little beauty.” I didn’t feel little but appreciated his compliment just the same. “We just need to find out what does it for you.” I stood in front of him again and his hand absentmindedly stroked my arm. “What turns you on, baby?”
I shrugged and felt a grin form on my face. “I dunno. Sex.”
“Well, yeah, I figured that.” He cocked his head a bit, as if he wasn’t sure how to read me. “Maybe that’s inexperience. You…?” He paused again and then asked, “What do you think about when you touch yourself?”
Oh, God. How did he know about that? But then I supposed that was nothing secret and an assumption on his part—but that didn’t make it any less correct. I wasn’t going to say CJ Slavin, though, and this guy was doing his damnedest to wreck the moment. Still, I struggled to answer his question. “A, uh…usually a guy I really like.”
“Anything quirky?”
I was too inexperienced to understand that he was fishing around to find out if I had any kinky fantasies he could fulfill. He was trying to figure out what got me hot, what got me off, but maybe he’d forgotten what it was like to be a teenager—when just about everything’s a turn on, especially for a girl like me.
He ran a finger along my collarbone and I drew in a deep breath as I felt my nipples tighten again. He realized then that he wasn’t going to have to try very hard to take care of me. He smiled then and brought his lips to mine, just brushing them a little as his finger started moving downward, down into my cleavage. God, my nipples couldn’t get any tighter. As he removed his lips from mine to brush over my neck again, I felt what little air was in my body drift out of my mouth. He wasn’t moving quickly but I couldn’t keep up just the same, a
nd my hands were clenched into fists at my side. What I really wanted to do with them was dig into his flesh to either keep myself grounded or demand that he do what he’d promised.
His fingers drifted around to my back and it was just a few seconds before I felt my bra loosen around my frame. I felt a little odd, a bit naughty, and a lot excited that I was with an older man, and I wanted to see if he could fulfill his promise. He moved his fingers slowly, I think to add to the sense of anticipation, and they felt like hot coals as he drifted them up my shoulders before looping his fingers on the straps and pulling them down.
On the Road: (Vagabonds Book 2) (New Adult Rock Star Romance) Page 6