by Regina Frame
***
The rest of the day went by in a blur. We practiced, and even had a recording session so that they could play it back to see how we sounded together.
I was beyond excited, and the guys were pleased with it. It was relief to know that I wasn't going to be sent packing before I ever got the chance to play on stage with them. I was thankful that I was getting the opportunity to peruse my dream. And the fact that they were one of the top bands in the nation made it even more exciting.
"Where's the closest hotel?" I asked, while scrolling through my phone.
We'd been at it for twelve hours, and I wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a comfortable bed. I was in such a hurry when I left my apartment that morning to make the six hour drive, it didn't occur to me that I'd need a place to stay while I was there.
"Why are you looking for a hotel?" Chance asked as he lifted his guitar case from the floor.
"I forgot to make arrangements before I left this morning. I'm ready for some food and a hot bath." I said, still scrolling through my phone.
I had also distracted with the thoughts of what it would be like meeting the sexy guitarist face to face, so finding a place to stay never entered my mind.
I was surprised when he said, "No need, Sparkles. Me casa, su casa. You can't stay in a hotel for three months. That'll come soon enough. Trust me when I say, you'll get tired of hotels and being cramped in the bus for months on end. I've got a nice sized house; you'll barely even know I'm there."
He had a point, and even though I'd never toured before, I was sure he was right. I just hoped I could control my hormones around him. That was not part of the plan, and I was not entirely sure that I could do it, but I guess I'd find out.
***
I followed Chance on his sweet cherry red Hyabusa to a gated subdivision across town. We slowed to a stop at the large metal gate where he flipped up his face shield and said something to the guard at the gate. The older man looked my way, then wrote something on his clipboard before the large gate swung open for us to enter.
He drove at a snail's speed through the lavish neighborhood until we reached a two-story brick townhouse. I swear, if he'd driven any slower, he'd have fallen over. I followed him around the back and parked my Mustang alongside his bike in the garage.
Music had been kind to Chance Roberts, because not only did he have the motorcycle, but also had a black Hummer and a silver Porsche, which had a mirrored finish. I'd never seen anything like it.
I got out of my car and grabbed my bags from the backseat and waited for Chance to get off his bike.
Chapter Three
Chance
I drove through the neighborhood, stalling for time, so my hard-on could go down. Riding a crotch rocket with a hard dick hurt like a mother fucker, but I couldn't get Honor out of my head. From the moment I opened the door at the studio and took in her slender body, blonde hair, and piercings, I knew I was fucked. I now regretted that I'd offered for her to stay with me.
It was going to be hard to keep my dick to myself. The way her colorful inked arms stood out against the pale skin that was visible made her even more attractive, if possible. To me, there was nothing sexier than a woman with ink, and Honor Collins had a lot of it. I couldn't help but wonder just how much of her beautiful body was inked. It was probably a bad decision on my part to let her stay with me, because Jinx had warned us all before she ever arrived to keep our dick to ourselves. I didn't realize just how hard that was going to be until she showed up at the studio.
I took one look at her and realized just how screwed I was. Jinx said it could cause problems for the band, and I was sure he was right. He'd never been wrong before when it came to business.
Jinx was the moral compass of the group. The guy rarely slept around, and I'd never seen him do drugs like the rest of us. We gave him shit at times and called him dad, which pissed him off, but the guy was twenty-eight and acted forty. We all looked forward to the day some chick came along and grabbed him by the balls.
Could he honestly expect me to live with her and not touch her? That was like giving a kid a lollipop and telling him not to lick it. That was some fucked up shit.
"Cool ride," she said as I flung my leg over the seat and removed my helmet.
Girl’s got taste. Another plus for Honor Collins. One more reason to like her even more.
"Thanks. I'll take you for a ride sometime."
I didn't miss the flush of her cheeks. I pictured her riding my dick, tits bouncing as I thrust inside her. Fuck. Now I was hard again. She walked over to my Porsche and trailed her fingers along the door, and I could tell that she was wondering about the paint job. It was an unusual mirrored finish, and mine was one of ten that were made.
"I've never seen anything like this. It's sharp," she said.
"It's one of ten that were made. The beauty of this is that when the paparazzi are trying to catch a money shot, it's practically impossible. The flash from their cameras reflect in the paint job, and they get nothing but a white blur." I laughed. "Here. Let me take that," I offered, taking her suitcase from her hand. I walked up the steps and unlocked the door, stepping back so that she could enter first. Her sweet vanilla scent filled my nose, and I had to bite my lip to keep the groan from escaping my throat. "Come on. I'll show you around." I flicked on the lights and tossed my keys on the counter as we walked through the house. “Laundry, restroom, den," I explained as I pointed out what each of the rooms were.
I was pretty proud of the place. It had dark hardwood floors, neutral walls with white crown molding, and floor to ceiling windows in the den that looked out over the pool. The only thing I changed about the place was the kitchen appliances. I had them all replaced with state of the art, stainless steel, restaurant grade quality, because, believe it or not, I liked to cook and I was pretty damn good at it if I do say so myself. I hired an interior decorator so that the furniture and everything else matched, right down to the linens, because I was shit at matching anything … even my damn clothes. I leaned more toward black or white tee shirts and dark jeans or shorts. I figured I was pretty safe with that, and wouldn't end up on that damn show, ‘What Not to be Seen in’, or some shit with that screechy sounding woman that looked like an alien from all the plastic surgery she'd had over the years.
Honor looked around, taking in her surroundings, even smiling when she noticed the pool out back.
"Nice place."
"Thanks. It'll do for now," I replied.
"I expected you to live in a mansion surrounded by an eight-foot wall," she declared.
"Why would you think that?" Fuck. "Do I give you that impression?" I was kind of offended by that, because I was not that guy. Sure, I liked my cars, but what guy didn’t?
"No! Not at all. I just meant... don't the neighbors invade your privacy? Aren't they curious about the rock star next door?"
"No. That's what's great about this place. The neighborhood is made up of celebrities. It's pretty close to Clairmont Pictures, Colby Recording Studio, and some of the major television networks. The neighborhood was built with that in mind. That's why we have the secured entrance and at least seven security guards during each shift," I explained. "I'm probably the least famous person here. Believe me. The only time I get attention is when some college chick visits her family. Other than that, we respect each other's privacy," I admit as we stop in the hall way next to the guest room.
"This is your room." I pointed to the room on the right. "And that room is mine." I pointed to the next door down. "You're not planning on having wild sex parties or orgies, are you, Sparkles? Because if you do, I expect to be asked to join, and if not, you'll need to keep the noise at a minimum. If you're making wild animal noises all night long, that'll just keep me awake. Believe it or not, I'm pretty damn grumpy if I don't get enough sleep. At least, that's what the guys have told me." I shrugged a shoulder, letting her know that I didn't really believe them.
"If I do, you'll be the first person I
call."
She reached up and pinched my cheek between her thumb and finger. The warmth of her touch sent a tingle to my balls, and just when I thought my dick couldn't get any harder, it proved me wrong. The asshole. I grinned and leaned in close, my lips brushing against her ear.
"Oh, and one other thing: I sleep in the nude, and sometimes I sleep walk, so consider yourself warned," I breathed against her neck, causing her body to shiver against mine and a small gasp to leave her full pink lips. I wanted to kiss her. Taste her. And if I was reading her body language correctly, she wanted me, too. What the fuck are you doing? She just got here and you're already thinking with the little head. "Pizza?" I announced, and forced myself to take a step back. If I weren't careful, I'd do something we'd both regret. It was going to be hell trying to control myself around her.
"W-What? Are you saying I smell like pizza?"
She was flustered, and her cheeks were a light shade of pink. I loved that I did that to her. It was such an honest reaction; not like that of the chicks that hung around after our shows. Nothing, and I mean nothing, embarrassed them. They'd done and seen it all.
I chuckled and gazed into her crystal blue eyes. They narrowed, and her spine stiffened. I thought for a minute she was going to slap the shit of me. She thought I was toying with her, but I wasn't. I just had a lapse in judgment was all. I really needed to get a hold of myself before I did something we might not be able to move past.
"No." I chuckled. "You know, Pizza? It's round and has stuff like cheese and pepperoni on..."
"I know what pizza is, smartass!" She covered my mouth with her hand as I continued to talk, and, just for spite, I licked it, causing her to frown and wipe her hand down the front of her jeans.
"No need for name calling, Sparkles." I placed my hand over my heart like she'd deeply wounded me.
"Are you always like this?" She cocked her head to the side and studied me like I was some type of alien life form.
"Like what?" I arched my brow in question, amused by the expression on her beautiful face.
"Like a kid hopped up on sugar and Red Bull?"
"Always." I laughed.
"Why am I not surprised?" She shook her head and laughed. "I'm going to shower and change clothes," she announced, and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder, where it fell in silky strands.
"Need help with that? I could scrub your back if you want."
My mouth had no damn filter. I took a step forward, only to be stopped when she placed her warm hand in the middle of my chest to stop me. A surge of sexual awareness crackled in the air around us. She may not have admitted it, but it affected her, too. I saw it in the way her breathing changed when she touched me.
"I can manage on my own," she announced, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink, and she swallowed hard. Damn. At least one of us had some control. I'd been shot down by a five-foot, sexy as fuck woman. I should probably hand my balls over now. "Is this what living with you is going to be like? You hitting on me every day?"
"Pretty much. Can't blame a guy for trying." I winked. She pushed me backward and closed the door in my face.
"Okay. I'll order pizza," I said to the door, before turning on my heel and walking toward the kitchen. I stared down at my hard dick where it pressed against my zipper. "Not tonight, buddy. You should be ashamed of yourself."
***
Honor
I closed the bedroom door and leaned back against it. Closing my eyes, I took several deep breaths in an attempt to stop the pounding of my heart. Get a damn grip. My body was humming from that simple touch, and a strong pulse had started between my legs. If that was any indication of what it was going to be like for the next three months, I needed to stock up on batteries. I may have even needed to purchase a back-up dildo. You know, just in case.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed when he pulled away. I'd fantasized plenty of times about kissing him … among other things. I guess, for the time being, that would have to do.
I walked across the room and dropped my bag on the floor beside the bed and fished my phone out of my back pocket. I had felt it vibrate several times today, but didn't have time to check it. Just as I thought, I had two texts and a voicemail from my best friend, Harmony, asking me to call her to let her know that I'd made it safely, and asking if the guys were even hotter in person. I sighed and sat on the side of the bed to start typing a message to her.
I'm here. We were in the studio all day. And yes, the guys are even hotter in person.
She responded immediately, just like I knew she would. Her damn phone was always in her hand.
Where's my picture?
What?
Bitch, have you forgotten already? You promised me pictures of the guys. Chop! Chop!
I shook my head and sighed. If you remember correctly, I didn't promise anything, and if you call me bitch again, I promise you won't get shit!
That calmed her down. Now, let's not get hasty. Another message immediately followed her first one. Oh yeah! I forgot to tell you to Google Chance Robert's Dick.com
There is no way in hell I'm searching for dick picks or anything else on these guys. I have to work with them for the next three months.
Girl, you've got to see this!
There were several eggplant emojis and a startled cat face that followed that text.
That's it! Drop it, or I won't send you the first pic of Jinx.
I knew that would get her where it hurt.
Damn. You play dirty!
I giggled to myself as I scrolled through a few more texts. There were a few from Trevor, my ex-boyfriend. He was letting me know that he wasn't happy that I'd left without telling him. What he was really saying was that he was pissed off that I didn't ask his permission to leave for three months. I guess our last conversation hadn't sunk in yet. The one where I told him to kiss my ass because we're over.
I dug through my suitcase and pulled out a pair of black yoga pants and a tee shirt. After showering and changing my clothes, I opened the bedroom door and was met with the mouthwatering aroma of pizza and garlic. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a paper plate and tossed on a couple of slices before heading to the den where I found Chance sitting on the floor, playing X-box. A huge bulldog sat beside him with his eye on the slice of pizza Chance had in his hand.
"You have a dog." It came out as more of a question than a statement, because I hadn't seen the dog when we came in.
"Yeah. This is Booger." He tilted his head toward the very round bulldog, and then said, "Booger, meet Honor." The dog snorted as if saying hello while inching closer to the slice of pizza Chance held.
"Where was he when we came in?"
"He was next door. My neighbor watches him while I'm out. Walks him, feeds him, and all that shit. It works out really well when I'm on the road, because I don't trust a boarding service. I like to know he's being taken care of and gets what he needs."
"He's fat," I stated, because he was as round as he was tall and I had to wonder how his stumpy little legs were able to carry around all of the weight.
"Hey now! You'll hurt his feelings," he chastised me. "Don't listen to her, Booger. You're just big boned." He tossed the dog a piece of pepperoni from his slice of pizza.
"I love Halo," I said around a mouth full of pizza. He paused the game and turned his attention on me.
"You've heard of it?" He looked at me as if I had grown a third eye. "I can honestly say that I've never met a chick who knew what Halo was, or even an X-box for that matter."
"I guess the girls you hang out with have other things on their mind." I smirked.
"Nah. I don't hang out with those girls. Those girls don't get the full Chance experience."
He ran his hand over his chest and grinned. I ignored his statement, because I was pretty sure I knew what the full Chance experience was and I wasn't comfortable talking about it with him. That little pulse between my thighs was slowly starting up again.
"My
friend, Harmony, and I play when we have time. Her ex left his X-box after he moved out." I shrugged a shoulder and took another bite of piping hot pizza. A slow, sexy grin curled his full lips, and that was when I noticed the dimple in his right cheek. It was sexy as hell, and I wanted nothing more than to lean forward and lick it. I'd always been attracted to guys with dimples. "What?" I asked, because he was still staring.
"Quick, tell me, what kind of movies do you like?"
I wasn't sure where he was going with that line of questioning, but I answered honestly.
"I like any type of action movie. You know, like Fast and Furious, and I love anything Gladiator related. Oh! And all of the Saw movies! I love horror," I said with way too much excitement in my voice. Both sides of his full lips curled up in to a sexy smile.
"You're the perfect woman," he said, and flicked that damn lip ring, causing my nipples to pebble. "I just knew you were going to say some romantic shit like The Notebook. Don't all women like that damn movie?"
"Believe it or not, I hate romantic movies. I'm all about the blood and guts, along with a good car chase."
"Like I said, you're perfect." He winked.
"I'm sure my ex would argue that."
The moment I said it, I wished that I could take it back. He paused the game and shifted on the floor so that he was facing me, his bright green eyes curious.
"What'd he do?" he questioned.
"Don't you mean what did I do?" I asked, rolling my eyes. Guys usually assumed that the woman was the one who screwed things up. Because, in the short period of time I dated Trevor, he was quick to point out all the things I did wrong. "He hated that I was adding to my tattoos, and the fact that I wanted to play guitar. He thought I should be working behind a desk, but that's just not me. I love all kinds of music, and I love playing my guitar."