Phoenix Rising: Issue #2 (Pretty Boy Rock)

by S R Watson

  “Okay, let’s do this,” he says to Antonio.

  “That’s what I’m talking about,” Antonio says, getting hyped. He throws him some shades. “I have an idea. Put those on and then lose the shirt and shoes.”

  “Just trust him, Phoenix. He’s the best at what he does,” Desiree warns. Antonio pulls back the sliding glass door that leads to a patio overlooking Los Angeles. “Come,” he instructs. He tells Phoenix to stand against the railing and do whatever feels natural.

  And holy hell does he give us a show. What is it about a man in jeans and bare feet? Phoenix is the fucker who destroyed my heart. I'm not even supposed to be on this tour. Yet here I am, lust-driven and completely turned the fuck on, as I watch him transition through poses for Antonio. He inches his jeans down just a tad, but enough to expose that vein that sits along his V, where my tongue wants to trace. Memories of his beautiful cock compete with my desire to remain angry with him, and it pisses me off. I can't forget about his deceit. I can’t forget why I promised myself I would never be with him that way again. Just last night, I thought he fucked Ivy for God’s sake. Maybe I just need to get laid. I haven’t been with anyone since him. I’m choosing to believe that he and Sevyn wouldn’t be that dirty to let me sleep with the brother without my consent. That is the only reason I can move forward and give us a chance to be friends again. I will never forget, though. It’s going to take time for the anger that rears its head every time I remember the relationship he tarnished to completely dissipate.

  “That’s a wrap, man. You killed it,” Antonio says while playing back pictures through the viewfinder. Phoenix just gives him a thumbs-up. Desiree thanks the photographer for his time and informs the guys they have one hour to get something to eat before setup and rehearsal at the venue where they’re performing tonight.

  “Fuck yeah,” Killian hoots. “Almost showtime on the big stage.” This starts a conversation about the thousands of fans that will be in attendance. Some of their loyal fan base from Hundred Degree’s bar is even making the trip down to see them play their first show. I trail behind them and pull out my phone to call Irelyn. She’s between classes, so we keep the conversation short. I let her know we made it to Cali.

  “How are you getting along with Phoenix?” She gets straight to the point.

  “Decent,” I say in code. “Better than expected.” Irelyn takes the hint that I can’t go into specifics.

  “Is he there with you now?”

  “Yeah. We’re all heading to get something to eat, and they have to get ready for tonight.”

  “Gah. I wish I could be there. I’m glad you finally called me, though. I thought I was going to have to come find you. I’m happy to hear you're holding up, and you two didn’t kill each other on sight,” she jokes.

  I’m not sure holding up is what I’d call how I’m feeling at the moment, but I don’t elaborate. “You’d like Lily. She’s sweet but can hold her own.” Lily is walking hand in hand with Asher, but she turns back to look at me when she hears her name. Apparently, she was listening, so I’m glad I didn’t say anything too revealing about Phoenix and myself.

  “I’m glad you have someone to hang out with since I can’t be there. I bet Asher is happy that you two are getting along, as well.” I hadn’t even thought about that.

  “The guys are okay. They like playing cards and dominos—real down to earth,” I share.

  “Mhmm. I have a feeling that will change as soon as they find groupies to bang at every stop. They’ll have some other games they’ll like to play that won’t include you ladies. Well, Lily will get to play with Asher, but that’s going to leave you the odd man out unless you find your own piece.” I swear Irelyn has no shame.

  “Are you encouraging me to become a woman whore?” I giggle.

  “Your ass is forever making up words,” she giggles with me. “Womanwhore? Geez, you’re single. Find some unattached dick. It’s easy for us. Men don’t have a problem with no strings, one-night stand fucking.” I swear she’s insufferable.

  “You know I can’t just sleep with some random guy,” I whisper into the phone. “I’m not that...sexually free.”

  “And note that I didn’t say crap about sleeping. Fuck ’em and leave ’em in the city you find them in. You definitely won’t have time to worry about what Phoenix is getting up to then,” she adds. I guess I wasn’t fooling her too much. She hit the nail on the head. She knows the underlying source of my worries. I won’t admit it to her, though.

  “I’m not worried about that anyway. That’s inevitable. I see it coming,” I say in regards to knowing that Phoenix is going to definitely fuck someone else. Ivy will be one of them. “Anyway. I know you have class. We’ll talk later. I’ll tell you all about the concert when I call you back.”

  “You better,” she tells me. “Talk later. Find you some disposable dick, woman.” She is like a dog with a bone, and there is absolutely no reasoning with her.

  “Bye, woman,” I say before ending the call. Gus has food waiting for us back at the Yukon. Well, if you can call it that. I see Phoenix frowning again until he sees he got a chicken sandwich. We eat on the way to the venue. There is no talking this time because everybody is busy stuffing their face before the SUV reaches its destination.

  It is so cool to watch the guys warm up and listen to the way their music sounds in the bigger space. They start with a cover of Nickelback’s “Never Again,” and I feel myself getting excited for them. With each beat of the drum and pluck of the guitar strings, elation begins to take over. Phoenix’s gritty vocals croon into the mic, and I can see the genuine appreciation from Wild Silence. When our guys perform, their talent can’t be denied. My body begins to move of its own accord. You can feel the energy when they turn it up a notch. Phoenix’s grip on the mic flexes the muscles in his forearm, and his tattoo sleeve is sexy as fuck. He rocks back and forth as he delivers the lyrics.

  Ivy hops on stage with them, and the guys don’t miss a beat. She takes one of the mics and starts singing an octave below Phoenix.

  I just knew he was going to be pissed that she was intruding on their music. Instead, a fucking smile crosses his lips while he sings to her. Their vocals are a perfect blend. She runs a hand through her short red pixie-cut hair as she gets into the lyrics. Phoenix steps toward her and manages to grab a fist of the short strands before pulling her toward him in a move so dominant, you can see the shock on his guys’ faces. They don’t know that side of him, and he’s showing it to this bitch. I recognize his alter ego that just joined them on stage, and I want to throw up. She just continues singing, but it’s apparent she likes the attention he is giving her. It’s like a train wreck, and I can’t look away. I’m too sober for this shit.

  “Our guys are fucking amazing,” Lily squeals next to me—oblivious to the jealous daggers I’m throwing at Ivy.

  “I know,” is all I can say. I watch as the two continue to flirt. I envy Ivy’s go for what you want attitude. She wants Phoenix, and she’s making it known. She looks like the kind of woman to get what she wants, too. I can admit she’s sexy. And pretty—still a bitch, though. She can have any guy she wants. Why does she have to go after Phoenix?

  They wrap up the song, and everyone applauds.

  “You can’t have my back up vocalist, Phoenix, you pretty motherfucker you,” Anderson yells up to the stage mockingly.

  “That may not be a bad idea,” Mitch chimes in.

  “What?” Phoenix asks, confused.

  “Have Ivy, or one of us, join in on one of the cover songs you perform. Not on your original tracks, but on a song we all know. This will add yet another layer to this tour for the fans to see us rocking out together,” Mitch suggests.

  “True,” Phoenix replies excitedly. “I think that would give us an even bigger edge with our quest for band recognition.” Our guys nod in agreement.

  “Done deal,” Anderson assures. “Not tonight for your debut on the road. Maybe our next stop after we’ve had some time
to plan which songs you all want us to come in on.”

  I guess it would make sense that our guys would be open to sharing their spotlight with Wild Silence. That’s going to give them instant credibility and recognition. I’m happy for them.

  “Done,” Phoenix echoes. “Can’t wait to tell Desiree. She is going to flip her shit. She will love this idea.”

  “I love that manhandling you threw in there,” Ivy adds. “We can play off each other just like that during the show too. I think the women will eat that shit up. You will make all their panties wet.”

  “I do that anyway,” Phoenix winks.

  “Cocky much?” Ivy challenges.

  “Want to see?” Phoenix retorts, grabbing his dick. “I bet your panties are wet right now.”

  “Whoa, you two,” Anderson says, waving his hand. “That’s TMI for the rest of us.”

  “Yeah, why don’t the two of you fuck each other’s brains out already,” Mitch laughs. “We all see it coming. It’s like a damn soap opera playing out slowly. Just do it already.”

  “Don’t I get a say in this?” Ivy asks in mock disgust.

  “Ivy, if you had your say, you would have fucked him last night. We know you and how you are when you want something. Hush, and let us play your wingmen so we can help you get on that,” Mitch jokes.

  “I have nothing,” Ivy concludes. “You guys know me too well.”

  Chapter Six

  Phoenix

  It’s almost showtime. I take a moment to get in the zone. Our dressing room is nearly double the size of what we’re accustomed to and definitely more pimped out. I fix myself a glass of bourbon to still my nerves. I usually don’t get nervous. In Alabama, we were the shit. The audience we’re performing for tonight has never heard us before. Will they like our sound…our original songs? I finish my drink in three gulps, then look around the room and take it all in. Asher and Killian are talking on the other side of the room. Ren is mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV. Desiree came in about thirty minutes ago to give us the you-got-this speech. Now it’s fifteen minutes until we hit the stage. I pour myself two more shots of bourbon.

  “You okay, man?” Asher asks, walking over after he sees me on my second drink.

  “Yeah,” I reply, taking a swig. There’s a soft knock on the door before it opens. It’s Ivy and the guys from Wild Silence coming to wish us luck.

  “I still remember our first time performing in front of a huge audience. That was when reality hit that we were really on our way,” Anderson recalls. Ivy surprises me by taking my hand.

  “You guys are the real deal, Phoenix. We knew the minute Desiree played your demo. We would never have agreed to tour with you guys otherwise. Those fans out there are going to love you,” she reassures. She squeezes my hand, and a sense of calm comes over me. This is what I needed.

  It’s hard to shake years of feeling like a failure. When the man you look up to drills it in your head that you’ll never amount to anything, you start to believe it. I wish my sperm donor could see me now. I bring Ivy’s hand up to my mouth and kiss it. Now I’m ready.

  “Thanks, guys,” I say while looking at Ivy. We hear our introduction to take the stage. The guys go ahead of me. The lights dim to make the stage completely dark, except for a few spotlights. My guys take their places, and within seconds, their intro music fills the room. Adrenaline runs through my veins as I begin to feel the music. We’re opening with our rendition of I Prevail’s Blank Space. The crowd goes fucking crazy the minute the first lyric leaves my mouth. From that point forward, I’m on. I settle into the performance I usually give. I flirt and tease the women in the front row. I see flashes from cameras going off like crazy. I can’t see Lily or Harlow, but I know they’re somewhere close.

  By the third song, my shirt is clinging to me—dripping with sweat—so I take it off. The women go fucking insane. Yeah, I know just what I’m doing. I’m sure there is not one dry pussy left. I’ve already had tits flashed at me. We transition into our original music by the fourth song, and holy shit, do they eat it up.

  My guys are on fire tonight. Song after song, the audience gets even more rowdy. Their appreciation for our music is humbling. Everything we’ve worked so hard on is paying off right now. We close out our performance with a song that is so significant to me. I sing Leave it All Behind, leaving it all on the stage. It was the song I wrote for Harlow. It takes me back to a time when things were good with us. Now I desperately try to think of it as just another song. The lights fade, and we make our exit. The crowd is still begging for more. I’d say we knocked it out of the park. It feels fucking amazing. When we get back to our dressing room, Ivy is waiting there.

  “You guys fucking killed it,” she praises. “I knew you would.”

  “Thanks,” I tell her. Killian, Asher, and Ren thank her as well.

  “Can I see you for a minute?” She motions for me to follow, so I do, for now. We stop at a door that has her name on it.

  “Look at you all special with your own room,” I tease.

  “Yeah. We each get our own room. It’s one of the things we stipulate that we get. We need time to get in the right mind space before a show and prefer to have our own rooms.” She moves aside and lets me walk in first.

  “Well, it’s definitely a nice setup,” I comment, taking everything in. “But let’s be honest. Did you really bring me to your dressing room to show me how nice it is, or did you bring me here to show me something else?” I’m feeling good right now. She’s caught me in a euphoric mood. I can give her a taste of my dominance so that she’ll see why that alpha female shit she tries with me would never work.

  “Umm. Well, I did want to get you alone,” she says, strolling up to me. She tries to touch me, but I move out of reach.

  “I didn’t say you could touch me, Ivy.” The smile she’s wearing falters.

  “Can I touch you?” She looks unsure.

  Someone’s finally catching on.

  “Turn around,” I command without answering her question. She turns without hesitation. That was the right response. I’m glad because now I get to unleash what I’ve been wanting to do since the moment she walked into that restaurant. I tilt her head to one side so that I can place soft kisses on her neck. “You want me to fuck you before you go on stage, Ivy?” She nods and lets her body melt into mine. This will have to be quick because she has maybe ten minutes before the intermission is over.

  I bend her over toward her dressing mirror and place her hands on the surface. Her eyes close in anticipation. The bright lights from over the mirrors shine down on us, and I have an idea. “Open your eyes, sweetheart. Watch me give you the dick you’ve been craving.” She obliges and pushes her ass back toward me. I give it a smack before I kneel slowly to peel her tight leather pants down to her ankles. She isn’t wearing any panties. My dick hardens instantly at the sight of her bare pussy from behind. I inhale her essence and begin to throb with want. I grip the side of her thighs and take my time dragging my hands along them. When I’m back to standing, I pull her bare ass against my jeans-clad cock, letting her feel how hard I am.

  Her hooded eyes can barely focus on me in the mirror. I grab her chin to get her to look closely. “You stop watching, and I’ll stop fucking,” I warn. “Got it?”

  “Yes,” she answers breathily. “Just fuck me. Please, Phoenix,” she begs. I reach into my pocket for the condom I knew I would need when she brought me here. I make a show of undoing my jeans. That gets her attention. To her surprise, I’m commando, too. I stroke my dick a few times for her benefit because this motherfucker is already cocked, loaded, and ready to go. I sheath myself to the hilt. I slap her ass once more, and she points it toward me. Her pussy opens to receive me, and I slide right in. She clenches immediately, and the sensation is fucking awesome. I give her a few short strokes first—giving her slow and easy. When she begins to rock her ass against me, I know she is ready for me to go deeper. I grab a fist full of her hair, and that is the onl
y warning she gets. I plunge balls deep, enjoying the tightness of her pussy milking me.

  “Phoenix,” she screams. “Fuck me harder.” Holy fuck, she’s loud. I should have known she was a screamer. I’m going to fuck the alpha right out of her ass. Oh yeah, she is submitting now. Hearing her begging for my dick spurs me on. I give her exactly what she’s asking for. Driving into her over and over again.

  “Is this what you wanted, Ivy?” I tease.

  “Yessssssss,” she moans. I love that she can’t form a fucking coherent reply to save her life. I reach down with one hand and play with her clit. Her legs begin to tremble, and she’s struggling to continue to watch us. I can feel the familiar tingle in my balls, but I’ll be damned if I come first. I give her clit a pinch, and she fucking explodes on my dick. She gives up trying to watch altogether as her orgasm rolls through her. I pump into her a few more times before I some with her. We hear them announce her band from the stage, but she just stands there with my dick still inside her. “I need a minute,” she says dazedly.

  “You don’t have a minute, doll,” I boast. I slide out of her, but she still looks discombobulated. I grab a few tissues from the counter next to her and wipe her pussy, and she nearly comes undone from the aftershocks. A heavy knock on her door is followed by a male’s voice yelling that it’s showtime. She doesn’t answer. She slowly pulls up her pants, and I can’t keep from chuckling as I help her. I wipe my own dick off and tuck it back into my jeans.

  “That was fuuuccking amazing,” she finally gets out.

  “Yeah. Now you have a show to do, so you have to pull it together.” I can hear the music begin to play as we speak.

  “That was some nut,” she surmises. “Oh, we have to do that again.”