Beats of Life (Perception Book 5)

by Shandi Boyes

  Once we are ushered inside the nightclub by the studio assigned bodyguards we then become swamped by fans and groupies. Do you know how to tell the difference between a fan and a groupie? Fans ask before touching, groupies just touch, grab, poke and man handle you as much as they want. Fans normally buy a ticket to attend our shows, groupies expect them for free. Well not really for free, they are willing to do sexual favors for them, either way no money is exchanged for their ticket. It’s the fans that make a band successful and the groupies that can bring it crashing back down. Does that mean I don’t take advantage of the groupies? Hell no, they are part of the entertainment industry. I take all the perks I can get, groupies included.

  When our fame started rocketing we use to always hang out in the regular area of any nightclub we visited as Noah didn’t want us to portray a sense of arrogance or entitlement. But it soon become apparent that we didn’t even have the ability to move in the regular areas as we were swamped by over eager fans. So now we have no choice but to sit in the VIP section. It’s not all bad though, generally all of our booze is supplied for free and the VIP section always has the best views of the entire club.

  Tonight’s VIP section at ‘Cue Ball’ is on the second floor. When you stand near the black iron balcony you can see the entire dance floor down below. This place is absolutely packed to the brim with partygoers. The waiters and waitresses are dressed in matching outfits, tight black shorts, white blouses tucked in tight and black top hats. Thankfully, the boy’s shorts are a little longer than the girls. The pretty brunette waitress smiles brightly while bending over to offer me the whiskey I had ordered off a silver waiters tray. Her ample cleavage on display in a white lace bra since the front of her blouse dips down low when she bends over. When she notices my gaze on her impressive rack, she gives me a little wink before sauntering back to the VIP bar.

  I stand from the red leather booth and move over towards the balcony to watch the swarm of bodies dancing in sync to the music. It doesn’t take long to spot Nick in the middle of the crowd. That guy is like a Peter Allen prodigy, always fucking dancing. I don’t mind getting on the dance floor myself, but I don’t dance like Nick does. A couple of years ago he would have had many different dance partners attached to him, now he only has one. I still keep my eye on him though. One step out of line and that warning I gave him two years ago in the hotel room will be issued full force. I tried to warn Jenni to stay away from him and some days I still wish she had listened to me. I know she loves Nick, but he brings a whole heap of trouble and baggage along with him. That shit that happened with Megan could have brought even the strongest couple down.

  When I first met Jenni three years ago, all I could see was my little sister Serena. They both had the same big light blue eyes, strawberry blonde hair and tiny little facial features. Nick’s interest in Jenni was as obvious as the sun shining in the fucking sky, it practically beamed out of him. There was no way in hell I would have ever allowed my sister to date a guy like him, so I tried to keep Jenni as far away from him as possible. I had thought she was listening to everyone’s warnings to stay away from him, until she ended up pregnant with his baby. I had become suspicious a few months before that, but by that stage I had met Kylie and my primary focus was on her.

  Kylie and I met in pretty unusual circumstances. At the time I had thought it was all that right time and right place bullshit. Where now I wish I had never pulled into that old country bar on the side of the highway……..

  On that day, every single year, I just ride. Some days I can ride for ten hours straight before I turn around and go home, were others, it may only be an hour or two. That day it was a little over four hours before I decided to pull over. I don’t pay attention to street signs, town markings or anything specific. I am riding to escape my memories, to clear my mind of all thoughts. Once I feel like I have achieved that, the GPS on my phone shows me the way home.

  I had pulled into an old wooden bar on the outskirts of town to use the gas pump they had at the front since I was sitting on empty. When my eyes roamed around the space I got the feeling that I had transported back in time. I swear there were tumble weeds blowing across the road, an old timer sitting in a rocking chair at the front of the bar and the whole carpark was full of big old trucks like Noah’s but they were still rusted and lowered.

  After I filled my tank, I walked up to the elderly gentleman sitting in the rocking chair. He continued rocking as his eyes roamed over my denim jeans, tight white singlet and black leather vest. My full sleeves of tattoos were proudly on display. He leaned in close to me and spat a large black tar filled chunk of tobacco onto the ground next to me, narrowly missing my black boot. When my gaze lifted from my boot to look back at him, my eyes narrowed and my nostrils flared. He was bloody lucky he missed my boot, old timer or not.

  “You pay in the bar,” he advised, smiling a toothless grin. I gave him a quick nod of my head before stepping over the tobacco to make my way inside. The instant I opened the wooden door, the sound of a banjo shrieked through my ears. I’ll pretty much listen to any type of music, except country, that shit is as lame as it comes. The whole inside of the bar matches the outside; wooden, rusted and old. The floors, walls and even the roof were done in large wood panels. I quickly made my way to the outdated bar, wanting to pay for my gas and get the hell out of there quick before my ears were subjected to anymore torture.

  “How much was your total?” the elderly barmaid questioned. I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t check that type of shit, I just filled up and paid.

  “Don’t you have it computerised?” I responded, noticing that even the cash register looked like it belonged in the sixties.

  My black boots stomped back outside to read the total off the pump and that is when I spotted her. She was walking towards the bar with a small handful of guys and girls, wearing a blue cotton dress that sat halfway up her thigh, a small cropped denim jacket and a smile that made you want to fall to your knees in front of her. When she noticed me staring at her, she stopped walking and her gaze slowly roamed over my body. Once her eyes eventually returned to my face, she smiled so large they would have been able to see it from space. Just as I was about to walk over and introduce myself, a guy walked up behind her and smacked her playfully on the bottom, before wrapping his arm around her shoulders, forcing her to commence walking again. Her eyes turned away for only a mere second to see who had approached her before she looked back at me. The instant she winked at me, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

  Upon entering the bar, I noticed that her and her gathering of friends had moved towards a small stage and were in the process of setting up some music equipment. I quickly made my way to the bartender and paid for my gas and ordered a beer. I then moved down to the end of the bar to enjoy the visual of watching the pretty brunette set up the stage for a performance. It was lucky she was hot enough that I could forgive her for her poor choice in music. Once they had their equipment set up, the brunette moved off the stage and headed towards the bar. Not long after she had left, the sound of country music stared to filter through the air.

  “Can I please grab a vodka cranberry?” she requested kindly, the twang in her voice easily audible in the empty bar. Once the bartender handed her the drink she requested, she slowly turned around to face the stage. I could tell the instant she spotted me at the side of the bar as she smiled against the rim of her glass. I watched her side profile for a few minutes before she eventually turned to face me.

  “Didn’t your mother teach you it’s rude to stare?” she questioned, her hazel eyes narrowing slightly. She just needed to learn not to smile while she was trying to fake being angry. Seeing that as my cue to approach her, I quickly moved down the bar and sat in the empty barstool next to her. Now that I was closer to her, I noticed the small light freckles that adorn her beautiful face. Her smell reminded me of wildflowers and hay, which was an odd combination. I don’t think I could have found anyone more opposite than me. She screa
med country, where I screamed…… non country?

  “Why aren’t you up there with your friends?” I questioned, signalling to the bartender that I needed another beer.

  She seemed to consider my question before she eventually responded, “The idea of standing up in front of a crowd petrifies me.” I laughed loudly, considering the bar would have been lucky to have ten people inside of it. My loud laugh startled her that much that she spilt her drink down the front of her dress.

  “Oh fuck, sorry,” I apologized, grabbing a wad of napkins to dab up the liquid. It was only when I felt my dick straining against my zipper did I realize that I was dabbing her moderate and perfectly adequate looking breasts. The brain in my dick was obviously a lot smarter than the one in my head. When my eyes darted up from her breasts to her face, she seemed a little surprised but she was still smiling. I handed her the wad of napkins and she finished cleaning the spill, while I tried my hardest to keep my eyes on her face.

  “I guess I should introduce myself since you have already felt my boobs,” she said, before her face morphed into shock. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she continued, clearly looking embarrassed.

  “I’m Slater, nice to meet you,” I introduced. “and your boobs,” I continued, causing her to giggle softly.

  “You coming down?” Marcus questions, slapping me on the back, interrupting me from my thoughts.

  “I need a bit more liquid courage first,” I reply, swirling my whiskey in the glass, before downing the entire nip. The warm burning sensation on the way down gives instant comfort to the swirling my stomach is doing while memories of Kylie are filtering through my brain.

  I turn my gaze back towards the dance floor where I notice Jenni sprinting towards the bathrooms with her hand covering her mouth. When my concerned gaze seeks Nick, I spot him standing in the middle of the dance floor with a dumbfounded look on his face. A blonde, attractive, young lady quickly approaches the instant Jenni moves away and attempts to dance with Nick. I’m pleased when he side steps her and heads in the direction Jenni just went running. I should probably start giving Nick a little more leeway, but I’ve been burnt in the past and am a little cautious in giving him the benefit of the doubt. Even when you love someone, it doesn’t stop them from cheating on you. I found that out the hard way.

  The perky brunette waitress makes her way back to me the instant she notices my empty whiskey glass with another double of whiskey on her silver tray. This time, since she doesn’t need to bend over, her brown eyes stare directly into mine and she teasingly licks her top lip. I remove the whiskey from the tray, only sneaking a small peak at her generous breasts.

  “Your napkin, Sir,” she purrs seductively, handing me the napkin that was under the crystal tumbler. She then winks, before spinning on her heels and strolling briskly back to the bar. It is only after I finish my perusal of her swinging hips and ass does my gaze lower down to the napkin she handed me.

  “VIP bathroom in ten minutes,” I read off the napkin. When my eyes flick up to the bar she has just walked too, she smiles brightly at me. I give her a quick nod of my head. In ten minutes, any thoughts of Kylie that are plaguing my mind will soon become a distant memory.

  “Cheers to girls that break your heart,” I murmur to myself, downing the double of whiskey, before heading to the bathroom to hook up with the horny waitress.

  Chapter 4

  Kylie

  I just spent the last hour begging Melanie to let us go straight back to the hotel. I had done as she requested, I dressed in one of her dresses, I put make up on my face and I went and watched the guy I still love perform on stage. I did everything she requested to the smallest detail and she is still forcing me to attend the after party against my wishes. It is only when her blue eyes pleaded into mine and her bottom lip dropped did I eventually cave to her request. Tonight was her night, we are only in Seattle on her request, so I may as well continue to suck it up for a little while longer. The smile that was plastered on her face when we walked into the nightclub was worth the feeling of being stabbed in the heart with tiny sharp knives.

  The instant I walk in the nightclub, I spot Slater standing up on the second story. Tonight he matches into the surroundings a lot better than he did the first time I had met him…….

  I couldn’t miss the mysterious stranger standing outside of the Bar N Barrel. Not just because his whole appearance screamed biker, it was his piercing brown eyes and lickable tattooed arms that drew me in. Nearly every inch of his muscular veined arms were covered in a range of tattoos that I could spend hours exploring. When he noticed me perusing his body, his face morphed into a seductive grin and his eyes burned straight through to my soul. I never believed in instant love, but instant lust is a different story and that guy had my interests immensely peaked. It was only when Dominic slapped me on the bottom did our intense connection become interrupted.

  “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it,” Dominic said playfully. When his arm wrapped around my shoulders, he forced me to continue walking towards the bar. I don’t know what compelled me to do it, maybe it was the intense throbbing between my legs, or the fact I could feel myself drooling, but I winked at the mysterious cutie before I walked into the bar.

  We spent the next thirty minutes setting up the stage in preparation for my friends to perform. They have been playing at the Bar N Barrel for the past three months. It was an unpaid gig, but they did it more for fun than money. Once the stage was set up, I headed straight to the bar. No matter how many times Dominic requested for me to perform with them, I just couldn’t do it. I was scared senseless about performing in front of a group of people. I was more than happy to stick to singing in the shower. Once Darla handed me my cranberry vodka I had ordered, I spun around to watch my friends. I was halfway spinning around when I noticed the guy I had seen earlier sitting at the side of the bar. I didn’t even need to look at him to know that he was watching me, I could feel his intense heated gaze running over my body.

  I waited patiently for him to come over and talk to me, but as the minutes started to drag on, I realized that I was going to have to make the first move.

  “Didn’t your mother teach you it is rude to stare?” I questioned, giving him my best angry scowl that I could muster. When he smiled at my question, I quickly turned my eyes back towards the stage. That throbbing I was feeling earlier just catapulted to a new level. He moved and sat next to me, allowing me to smell a mixture of oil, aftershave and a scent that was pure man.

  “Why aren’t you up there with your friends?” he questioned, the deepness of his voice vibrating right through my body.

  Because I am pretty sure I would end up vomiting all over the stage or perhaps I might have even fainted. But instead of telling him what I was really thinking, I replied with “The idea of standing up in front of a crowd petrifies me.”

  His laugh was that loud, I literally jumped out of my skin. And my vodka cranberry jumped out of its glass. He mumbled a quick apology before grabbing a wad of napkins off the counter top to clean the spill off my chest. Although the vodka was chilled, my nipples weren’t standing to attention from its coolness, they were paying careful attention to his large callus covered hands that were rubbing along them. I could only wish that there wasn’t a large wad of napkins between us. Suddenly, he freezes and his dark brown eyes lift from looking at my breasts to my face. His face a cross between amused and slightly aroused.

  “I guess I should introduce myself since you have already met my boobs,” I replied before I suddenly became mortified. I’ve never been good at flirting and that line was one of the worst I have ever used. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” I continued, slowly lifting my eyes to look into his.

  “I’m Slater, nice to meet you,” he said, staring directly into my eyes. “And your boobs,” he continued with a large smirk on his face.

  Just as I was about to introduce myself, Dominic stood directly in between Slater and I. He pretended th
at he was ordering a beer from Darla, but I knew Dominic and I knew he was marking his territory. Dominic has been my friend since we were in diapers, but the past three years he has been trying much harder to be more than friends. Once Darla handed him his beer, he spun around and wrapped his arm around my shoulders to drag me towards our regular table. I quickly shrugged out of his embrace and turned back to face Slater.

  “I’m Kylie and the pleasure was all mine,” I replied, before quickly spinning back around, wanting to ensure that he wouldn’t see the embarrassed and mortified look on my face, since I had just given him the second worst pick up line of my life.

  As the night continued, the crowd at the bar started to become more filled with all the town folk wanting to enjoy their Saturday night. I could feel Slater’s eyes on me when I was dancing with some friends that I motioned for him to join me on the dance floor, he smiled while shaking his head. I guess boot scooting wasn’t his thing? A short time later, I was feeling parched from dancing so much that I went to the bar to order another drink. I may have also wanted to reignite my earlier conversation with Slater. This time, I decided to sit next to him.

  “Not a fan of boot scooting?” I questioned sarcastically. He chuckled loudly while motioning for me to look at him. I was more than willing to comply with his request. Slater couldn’t have been any more different than all the guys in my home town. They were all clean shaven and most of the hair on their heads were covered with large cowboy hats. They wore jeans with big belt buckles, button up cotton shirts and riding boots. Slater had jeans, on but his belt buckle was a biker buckle. His hair was blonde, long and in dreadlocks. He was wearing a tight white singlet that showed off the impressive ridges of his abdomen and his large muscular arms. He was also wearing boots, but his were motorcycle boots.