A flash of baby blue catches my eye. Shelby is standing front and center in the crowd of kids, never taking her eyes off Drax. Jealousy flares in my heart, which is ridiculous. I don't own Drax. I'm not even his girlfriend.
As I drag my hate-filled gaze away, a blur of bubblegum pink in the crowd draws my attention. Something about it...
"Good turnout."
The deep voice startles me out of my hatefire. Don't get me wrong, it's still there, I just turn it onto the speaker...where it dissolves into alarm. What's he doing here?
"Mr. Gasperini. What a pleasant surprise to see you."
His leering gaze lingers on my overflowing top half. "Ditto, honey. And call me Marco."
Heat rises up my chest to my face. Damn, how I long for a cardigan to cover up. It's too warm to be wearing one but, if I felt exposed before with Shelby, now I feel practically naked. There's nothing to do but stick 'em out and up. Maybe it'll put him in a generous mood.
"Enjoying the show?" I choke out.
Marco barks out a laugh. "You gotta be kidding? I hate this shit. But I got a vested interest so...I'm here. What about you?"
I loosen up a bit. He's not here to break my kneecaps -- yet -- so we might as well have a chat. "It's not what I normally listen to."
This time his scan of my body is more clinical. "You coulda fooled me."
I shrug. "Hey, we have a debt to pay, as you know. I'm told sexy sells and I'll do whatever it takes to get the money on time."
"Oh yeah?" he oozes, a twinkle sparking in those devil eyes.
My throat closes and I can barely breathe at his insinuation. Is he saying what I think he's saying? He sees my discomfort and winks.
"Relax, honey. I never needed to blackmail a chick to fuck me and I ain't gonna start now. Much as I might be tempted..."
I can't look him in the eye -- and not just because his eyes aren't focused on my face -- so I sneak a glance at Drax. He's screaming into the mic but he's looking our way. Each successive scream is louder and more rage-filled than the last. The audience is going nuts over the pure violent emotion pouring out of him. Marco chuckles. He sees it, too, but he's untroubled by it.
"See you in the morning, honey. Now don't go runnin' off with my cash. You got a good head on those beautiful shoulders. I think you know what'll happen if I have to track you down."
Chills shudder down my spine. Yeah, I have a pretty good idea.
My table has stayed busy throughout the two-hour show. There were a few lulls but mostly it's been steady with pimple-faced college kids and grungy street punks trying to snap up some Roadkill gear. So busy that I haven't had time to count our earnings, but judging by how little merchandise I have left to offer people, I'd guess we're really close to having Marco's full amount.
I haven't been so busy that I lost track of Little Miss Perfect, though. She's still standing in front of Drax, smiling up at him like he's her demon-knight in shining armor. Is it mean of me to hate her? I don't even know her, and she seems perfectly nice, but I can't deny that I hate her guts. It must be my outfit. I'm pretty sure it's impossible to not hate the world when you're wearing a corset.
Drax belts out one more impossibly long note and the band finishes with a bang. The kids go absolutely crazy. They're ecstatic to have seen one of the hottest new bands on the 'I Hate Daddy' rock scene for free, yet they still want more. The earth vibrates under the thick-soled boots Drax bought me today from the stomping and clapping, urging the band to do an encore. I can't really blame them. I have to admit that, by the end of the concert, even I found myself moving with the music. They're really quite talented.
The guys wave, turn around and pretend they're packing up. Only when the crowd is in a frenzy does Drax turn back to their screaming faces. He holds a hand up to one ear, as if he can't quite make out what their saying. Wiggling his other fingers in a 'Come on, I can't hear ya' gesture, he gets them worked up to a fever pitch. Then, when my eardrums are about to burst from the noise, he grabs his guitar and strums an ugly note.
The kids start cheering, but before he starts singing again, he introduces each band member. They all get such a huge round of applause, Drax has to wait about a minute between each introduction to be heard. Then he points in my direction.
Uh oh.
I look around me, wondering what the hell he's pointing at, because I know it can't be me. There's nothing but empty boxes.
"And don't forget to tell Lola how you feel when you go buy our special edition signed CD at the end of the show," he shouts. "Ain't she fuckin' sexy as hell?!"
The crowd -- led by Drax -- starts chanting "Lo-la! Lo-la! Lo-la!" Thank God it's dark because my cheeks are flaming. I want to die, right here and right now. But then again, it's better than getting spit at.
I'm standing there stiff as a statue, clueless as to what to do. Drax gives me a wink and a nod, and it hits me. I'm supposed to camp it up a bit to encourage the kids to buy out the rest of our stock. A ball of bile roils around in my stomach at being in the spotlight like this, but then I remember the predatory look in Marco's eyes.
Grabbing a fistful of CDs, I thrust them in the air and start jumping in time with the chant. It's about all I can do since all sideways movement is prevented by the corset.
But it's enough. The kids are screaming even louder now, applauding at my silliness. I feel like an idiot but it's a small price to pay if we can sell out the rest of the merch. I'm vaguely aware that Drax has stopped chanting. And why is he staring at me like that? Naturally, my gaze flicks over to Shelby. She's covered her mouth with one hand and is clearly trying not to laugh.
Yeah, yuk it up, bitch.
Then I notice a few people pointing, and more than a couple guys hooting in a way that makes me even more nervous than I already am. When a girl waves and points at her own chest, I take the hint and look down.
Perfect.
Yup, one of my boobs has popped out of the corset and is bouncing around for half of Las Vegas to see. I spin around, completely mortified, and tuck myself back in, but that's it. I'm done.
I'm about to burst into tears and sprint all the way back to San Francisco when Drax shouts, "Don't you guys go gettin' any ideas! You can look but you can't touch. If a single one of you horny little fuckers lays a finger on her, I'll break it off and shove it up your ass. Lola's all mine!"
The next second, he launches into the encore and the fans forget about me. I hope. But Shelby hasn't. I'm still in shock from what just happened -- you know, the whole boob thing followed by Drax telling a huge crowd that I'm his, whatever that means -- but my spidey-sense tells me to look up.
Shelby is shoving her way through the mass of stinky, sweaty teenage bodies and I almost feel sorry for her. Sure, I feel like crying out of embarrassment, but she looks like she's about to cry from something much deeper. I felt the same way when I caught Taggart kissing that other girl...
I shake away the memory and focus on the now. Drax basically just told Shelby that whatever she was hoping for wasn't gonna happen. My chest fills with the heat of absolute joy, and I can't stop the smile that tweaks my lips upward. She doesn't even glance my way as she practically runs off the quad.
What had she been hoping for anyway? According to Jake, she dumped Drax. And how long ago did he say? Three years? If she still had feelings, she could have called him up or at least 'poked' him on Facebook. My sympathy fades pretty quickly.
Besides, I have other things to think about. Like what Drax said, for one. And for another, the horde of kids swarming up to my table like a plague of hungry locusts. Oh yeah, and what Drax said.
I'm his?
"So? How'd we do?" I can't blame Frank for chewing on his nails because it's exactly what I do when I'm anxious. If my fingers weren't busy, I'd probably be doing the same. Marco was right that I understood perfectly what the consequences would be if he wasn't paid on time. Whatever he has planned in that smarmy little brain of his, it almost certainly isn't a massage and a mani-pedi.
"Shh! I'm still counting."
Piles of cash are laid out neatly on the RV's table and my fingers fly on my phone's calculator app. If I lose track of where I am on my list of numbers, I'll have to start over.
"Shelby looked tight, man," Jake says to Drax, cracking open another beer.
My finger wavers, and I almost hit the Clear button accidentally. I slow down but listen hard -- pretending the exact opposite, of course. I can't see Drax because he's standing over my shoulder, watching me work, but I sense he motions for Jake to shut the hell up.
"Whatever," Drax finally mutters.
"I still can't believe she's here, can you? I mean, what are the odds?" Jake is cute and funny, even with the stupid spiky hair, but he's totally clueless.
No sane guy wants to have his gorgeous ex discussed in front of his new...whatever I am, so I decide to have mercy on Drax -- and me -- by shutting down this whole discussion.
"Can you all please shut up so I can finish counting? Trust me, your knee caps will thank me later."
"Knee caps? I don't get it." See? Clueless.
I punch in the final set of numbers and look up at them. "Ready?"
No one breathes, much less replies. I hit the 'equal' sign and want to vomit and squeal at the same time.
"A hair under $11,000!"
Drax drags me out of the little dinette and hugs me tight while the boys...oh, heck, I'm pressed up tight against Drax. I have no clue what the boys are doing!
"You're brilliant, Lola."
He's beaming at me and, I swear, tears spring up in my eyes at the pride and admiration he's showering on me. Sure, my dads have always been proud of me. They're my dads, after all. But I've never had a guy look at me the way Drax is now. Like I saved him or something. It turns my insides into jelly.
"Me? Those kids didn't come to see me. I just took their money."
"Uh uh, no way. We wouldn't have got that gig without you. And if you don't think that outfit didn't help sales, I'll just have to take you over my knee and give you a spanking." He lowers his voice so only I can hear him. "But don't worry, you'll beg me for more."
Giggles burst out of me, not only at the naughty suggestion but at our success. He's not wrong. They were all ready to turn around when they were fired from that other show. I'm not ashamed to say that I'm downright giddy.
"Lauren?" Frank taps my shoulder and Drax reluctantly lets me go to face him. He's relieved but it's easy to see the shame and guilt swimming around underneath. "I really want to thank you. Drax is right. If it wasn't for you...well, I don't know what would have happened."
I have a pretty good idea and shudder at the thought. My dads had a few friends who got tangled up with some North Beach boys and were lucky to come out of it with their lives -- even if they never walked the same again.
"Frank, I know I'm your manager in name only--"
"Girl, I think you proved yourself today," Savory says. I shrug but he's not wrong, either.
"Okay, but listen. This can't happen again. How long have you been betting with the mob?"
Frank looks lost, like a little kid who can't find his way home. I actually feel sorry for him. "I swear to God, I didn't know. I just thought he was, ya know, a bookie."
I goggle at him. "How can you not know a Vegas bookie is almost surely connected? And why on earth would you bet more than you can pay? Don't you know what these guys do to deadbeats? I do and it's not pretty."
He breaks down in sobs and crumples to the couch, his shoulders shaking with the shame he feels. The frustration I was feeling a few seconds ago vanishes.
"Frank, you're addicted to gambling, aren't you?"
His silence is all I need to continue.
"You need help. As the band's manager, I'm going to tell all four of you that you shouldn't do another thing until Frank gets his demons under control. Your entire career depends on it. If you don't believe me, just think about what you could have done with the ten grand that you're going to give away in a few hours. Or what would have happened if we didn't get it in time."
As that sinks in, I sit next to Frank and wrap a comforting arm around his still-shaking frame.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, sniffling back tears.
"Frank, we're all here for you. It's done and we're going to move on, isn't that right, fellas?"
Agreement all around.
"Tomorrow we'll head back to San Francisco and find you a good program, okay? But tonight..." I look up at Drax and grin. "Tonight, we celebrate!"
Taking my cue, Drax whoops loudly and slaps Frank on the back. "Drinks on me, buddy!"
Jake whoops even louder in response. I can't help but think he'll be the next one to need a program.
Everyone files out in front of us, and as soon as they step off the bus, Drax pulls me back and growls in my ear.
"Not you, sexy. I've got other plans for you..."
Oh God.
The moment the door closes, Drax spins me around and devours my mouth with his. Our tongues don't just meet, they collide. We're desperate for each other and can't hold back our hunger any longer.
Heat throbs through Drax's leather pants and ragged tank, burning his name on my soul. No matter what happens after tonight, I know Pepper is right. I'll never forget what is about to go down. In fact, I'm sure I'll remember it many, many times in the coming years, when I need a little...inspiration.
Already, the pressure is building inside me. One wrong -- or should I say 'right' -- move and I'll explode standing here with my ass pressed up against the little kitchenette. From the rock hard bulge pressing into my tummy, I'd say Drax is at about the same place.
I break our liplock and gasp his name, breathless with need. His gaze bores into me and, for a moment, I think he's going to bend me over the dinette table and take me like a caveman.
Fine by me!
Instead, he takes a deep, ragged breath and pulls me toward the bedroom, never allowing the electric connection between us break. Drax sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me between his thighs, his hands holding on where my corset ends and my hips begin.
I'm vaguely surprised that I'm not trying to wriggle away so he won't feel the bulging there. But not once since I met him have I ever felt anything but sexy in front of him. How is that possible when I've spent my entire life criticizing my curves? When Drax buries his face in my overflowing cleavage, I forget about all of that nonsense and focus on him.
My fingers drag up his shoulder and get buried in his thick, dark hair. Inch by inch, he uses his tongue and occasionally some fingers to tease each of my breasts out of the confines of the corset. When they finally pop free, I almost come.
Sparks zing between my nipples and my core, and his lips are doing such wonderful things to them that I can barely stand up. Only Drax's strong grip keeps me where he wants me, in the perfect position to bob from one tip to the other, suckling and nipping me ever closer to the edge.
"God, I've wanted to do this all fucking day," he mumbles between nibbles.
His fingers tuck into the waistband of my leggings and gently tugs them down over my rump. I'm desperate to shuck off my clunky boots and finish slipping out of the leggings but he won't let me move. His mouth clamps harder onto a nipple and his hands hold me fast.
"Ahh," I cry out at the delicious combination of pleasure and pain. I spasm and pant and focus on not collapsing into a puddle of goo. I can barely catch my breath thanks to the corset, but it somehow only heightens my senses.
Softly and slowly, his hands massage my butt, rolling the leggings lower and lower until they hit the tops of my boots. I know better than to try to help, now. Besides, he's doing quite well, as far as I'm concerned.
I'm so distracted by what his lips are doing to my breasts that I don't even realize one of his hands has slipped around to my front. Only when one thick finger slicks along my opening, do I gasp and lurch into him.
"You're killing me, Drax," I breathe as I clutch onto his shoulders for sup
port.
He shoots one of his patented evil grins up at me. "La petite mort. That's what they call an orgasm in France. Means 'the little death'. And darlin'? You ain't seen nothin' yet."
With those words, he abandons the girls and drops to his knees. Before I can so much as take a breath, his face is buried in me and all I can do is mewl like a kitten.
His tongue is like a lance, licking and stroking my throbbing nub until I'm at the precipice. "Drax," I whisper over and over, barely even able to do that much. He responds by spreading my ass cheeks and sending a fingertip in to explore the dark side of my moon.
I gasp again as lights sparkle behind my eyelids, swirling around like a galaxy. A galaxy on the verge of collapsing in on itself...or of having its own big bang.
I lose track of what he's doing and focus on the sensations. My entire body feels like a gigantic rocket, ready to be shot into space. All my synapses are firing and with one more flick of his finger, Drax has lit my fuse.
A low moan starts deep in my throat and grows louder as it claws its way out of my mouth until its a scream of ultimate release. He clutches me tighter, probably to prevent me from falling, or maybe just to lap up each drop of my desire.
As the spasms die down, Drax eases me down onto the bed and I fall back in utter bliss and exhaustion. I swear it takes several minutes for me to recover my senses, and when I do, I realize that Drax has never stopped touching me.
My boots and leggings have magically disappeared, though I'm still strapped into the corset. I reach back to begin the long process of unlacing it but Drax stays my hand.
"Leave it," he growls. God, I love his growl. I love that I make him growl.
The corset severely limits my ability to move freely, so I'm basically at his mercy. Yummy! I lay back and watch as he undresses for me.
First the tank goes flying into a corner, revealing his beautifully defined and intricately tattooed muscles. My fingers itch to pet the pretty but it would take a crane and possibly a wizard to get me upright enough to take advantage. Soon enough...
So I Married a Rockstar Page 9