by Joy Eileen
“You got in a fight with Superman?” Jet asked her.
“I did. He was a dumbass.” Amy grinned.
“That’s hot. What happened?” Jet gave her a high five with his licorice stick.
“We were walking around Hollywood, looking at all the stars on the ground. Fucking Superman comes up to us. He asked if we wanted a picture with a real superhero. So I asked him if Batman was around.”
“Hell yeah.” Van laughed, tipping his beer bottle back.
“He got upset and said he was better than Batman.”
“He did not?" Kill gasped, looking at me for confirmation.
I nodded, and Amy kept going.
“I explained that he wasn’t even a superhero, but an alien. An illegal alien at that. I asked him if he even had a birth certificate, or a green card to work on Earth. He got all huffy. I mean he’s basically taking a job from a legal citizen. Batman would never take a job from a person in need. Then I told him to go back to his planet and leave Earth alone, or I would get him deported,” Amy finished, taking a swig of her margarita out of her licorice straw.
The boys clapped, getting most of the attention from the neighboring tables.
“That’s my girl.” Jet stuffed more food into his mouth.
“I’m so proud of you,” D told her, earning a huge grin from Amy.
“I know where my superhero loyalties are,” she explained.
D drove us home. He wanted to be somewhat responsible in case Lissa decided to read us the riot act. We avoided all mentions of Bailey throughout dinner. It was nice she was no longer around. She didn’t fit in, and Van never seemed to let loose when he was with her, which was always. Our little group was back to normal, and I didn’t realize how much I missed it until that moment.
When we pulled up, Lissa marched out of the house before D could put the van in park.
“Well, I guess it’s time to face the music,” D said in defeat, his shoulders sagging a little.
“Let me handle her,” Van told him.
“Nah, it’s okay, man. I’m the manager.”
“I know, but it was my fault we didn’t have Gunther. Seriously, D, let me handle this one. I need something to keep my mind off Bailey the slut.” Van climbed out of the vehicle and headed toward Lissa without letting D argue with him.
Van held up his hand when Lissa gestured toward the van. They talked for a minute while we pressed against the window and watched, trying to read their lips. Lissa’s body visibly relaxed, and Van took her upper arm and led her into the house.
“Do you think it’s safe to get out?” Jet asked when the door closed after them.
“I think so,” Amy answered.
“Here, put these back where you found them,” D told Jet, handing him the keys.
When we walked into the house, Van and Lissa were nowhere to be found.
“Do you want to watch TV in the theater room?” D asked.
All of us stood around the entryway, not really sure what to do.
At home, we would just hang out in the living room watching TV and talking, or playing music in the garage. All this free time in a different place was throwing us off.
“Sure,” we replied and walked downstairs to the indoor theater.
Our plan was stopped short when we walked in and caught Gram and the rest of the Cockfights lounging on the couch, watching porn. Each of them had a girl plastered over their bodies.
“Hey, girls, wanna join us?” Gram asked, moving to sit up slightly but not enough to dislodge the girl sucking on his nipple.
“Seriously?” Amy replied in a disgusted voice. Her nose scrunched up. She turned around without a backward glance, pulling Jet along with her.
“Not if you were the last man on Earth,” I responded, moving to follow Amy and Jet.
“Dude, you need to get your priorities straight. I seriously doubt you’re as big of a douchebag as you’re pretending to be,” Kill told him before walking away.
We met in the living area, standing there. Lost yet again in this new life we were plunged into.
“I guess we should go to bed,” D said, out of ideas like the rest of us.
“Do you want to go swimming?” I asked, remembering the pool. “They’re going to be preoccupied with their little party downstairs. We’re in California, and you guys are about to explode with fame. Let’s live it up.”
“I know we’re in California, but it’s still chilly in January,” Amy looked miserable.
“It’s an indoor pool,” I told her with a wink.
“Holy shit, I forgot about the indoor pool.” Jet grabbed Amy and ran upstairs. “Last one in the pool sucks,” he taunted halfway to his room.
“You’re on,” I yelled, pounding up the stairs behind them.
Kill walked in when I was trying to tie my bikini top. He ran his hands over my bare skin, causing tremors to erupt everywhere. “What’s the hurry, Slick?” he asked. His lips traveled over my neck.
“I don’t want to suck,” I answered lamely.
He chuckled at the back of my neck, his hands still wandering over the skin accessible to him. “I’ve got something you can suck.”
“How are you able to be cheesy and hot at the same time?” I asked, turning around and plastering my body to his. My mouth landed on his neck, sucking on the heated skin.
“It’s a gift.” He groaned. His hips thrust into me, letting me feel his hardened erection.
He maneuvered us to the bed, our lips never separating.
“I need you, Slick,” he whispered into my neck, biting the skin his tongue had just traveled over.
“I’m here,” I answered.
His fingers pulled my bikini bottoms to the side, exposing my wetness. “I need a taste.”
My body trembled from the loss of his body heat. He moved down to his knees on the floor, his face in front of me. One hand kept my bottoms to the side as his warm tongue streaked across my dampness.
My hips shot off the mattress from the electric contact. His tongue felt like a live-wire against me. Without thought, my hands delved into his hair, keeping him put. He chuckled again. His warm breath washed over my wetness, causing my body to tingle with anticipation.
“You taste so good,” he murmured in between my thighs right before his tongue pressed harder, pushing past my folds and landing on my swollen clit.
An unintelligible noise came out of my throat. My fingers convulsed in his hair. He let out a low growl before his finger pushed into me.
“Hurry up, you two,” Jet yelled from the other side of the door. “You better not have fallen asleep like some old married couple.”
“We’re coming,” Kill called back. His finger continued pumping in and out while his thumb teased the needy bundle of nerves.
I bit my bottom lip to keep from screaming out from the pleasure he was providing me. His tongue shot out and circled my clit, and his finger moved faster, bringing me closer.
“Hurry up. What’s taking you so long?” Jet whined.
“I can’t find my swim trunks. I have to unpack,” Kill replied, his mouth leaving me to talk.
“Fine, wear your damn boxers if you can’t find them,” Jet answered, his footsteps moving down the hall.
“You’ve got to be quick. You know he’ll be back soon,” Kill mumbled, sucking my clit into his mouth.
My legs locked around his head. I ground into his face, finding my pleasure. The comforter bunched in my hands. I stuffed it around my ears, blocking out any other distractions, concentrating on Kill and his wonderful tongue and fingers while they performed the grand finale in between my legs.
The muscles in my thighs quaked. He worked me faster, trying to pull me over the edge before we were interrupted again. Kill stroked the flat of his tongue over my greedy clit and ruptured my sanity, tossing me over the edge. My legs clenched around his head. He buried his face deeper, milking every drop of pleasure my body was willing to give him.
As soon as my orgasm ebbed my liqui
d limbs dropped to the bed. The grip on Kill’s hair was the only action my muscles couldn’t release. I tilted my head to see him smiling still on his knees in front of the bed, his face glossy with my lust.
“Holy shit, Slick, that was hot. Every time you lose yourself to me I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”
I pulled on his messy locks, getting him to meet my mouth, tasting myself on his plump lips.
“I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I guess we’re even,” I said. My mouth started its journey down his neck.
“Not even close,” Kill replied, inhaling quickly when I bit down on his collarbone. “You have to stop, Slick.”
“Why?” My tongue traced a path up his neck to nip on his earlobe.
“Fuck,” he moaned. “You have to stop because Jet’s going to be up here banging on our door any minute. I really don’t want to start something I can’t finish.” His hips thrust into me, contradicting his words.
“You can be fast.” I dug my heels into his jeans, trying to push them down.
Kill reached in between us, fumbling with his zipper.
“Get the hell downstairs. You guys can screw each other later,” Jet yelled, banging on the door.
“Give me five minutes,” Kill shot back, still working on his zipper.
“No. Five minutes will not do you any good. It will suck for both of you. You might as well tuck it back in and wait.”
Kill’s forehead dropped to mine. His hand stilled between us. “Catch you later,” he said, his lips ghosting over mine.
“Yeah, I’ll take a rain check.”
“That’s because you got yours.”
“I’m going to bust down the door if you two aren’t out in five minutes. It’s family time. Not nakey nakey time,” Jet bellowed, banging on the door again.
“All right, god of cockblocking. We’re coming,” Kill yelled back.
“Are you coming, or coming?” Jet asked.
“We’ll be down in five minutes. And you ruined the mood, so the only coming we’ll be doing is downstairs,” Kill clarified.
As soon as he said it, I burst out laughing.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Jet asked, sounding like he was holding in his laughter.
“Shut up. We’ll be downstairs in a second,” Kill grumbled, going to his suitcase and pulling out his swim trunks.
“All right,” Jet said, appeased.
Downstairs everyone was already splashing in the pool.
“There are the horn dogs, dirty birds, the nasty ones, the—”
“Can you blame a guy?” Kill asked, cutting off Jet’s tirade.
“Nope, I totally get it.” Jet swam to the edge of the pool where Amy was resting.
Kill kissed me on the cheek before jumping in the deep end, making as big of a splash as his body could.
“That was weak,” Van cried when Kill’s head emerged seconds later.
“Let’s see you try, big man,” Kill taunted, swimming to where I was treading water with Amy, Jet, and D.
“Done. Girls, you can be the judge,” Van replied, getting out of the pool.
“Hell no,” Amy cried. “I used to be the cannonball champion.”
“Sorry, that was sexist,” Van said, walking back over to Amy to help her get out of the pool.
“No worries,” she told him, adjusting her tiny bikini top, heading over to the deep end.
After we had our turn trying to make the biggest splash, we floated around the pool, laughing and talking.
“Fuck, I missed this.” Jet’s voice held a bit of sadness.
“We never had a pool,” D said, splashing a little to get away from the edge.
“No, dumbass. I miss hanging out with you guys. I know we haven’t even started with the crazy busy schedule, but I’m already feeling it,” Jet answered.
“I know. I haven’t had Faith’s cooking in forever,” Van said with a bit of melancholy in his voice also.
“You’re right. We haven’t had a family dinner in a long time. I’m cooking tomorrow. What do you want?” I asked, linking hands with Kill when we floated near each other.
“Lasagna,” Jet and Van replied at the same time.
My eyes burned from emotional tears. Lasagna was the first thing I’d made for the boys when I moved in. “Stupid boys.” I dunked my head under the water to get my emotions under control.
When we were pruney, we climbed out of the pool and wrapped the heated towels around us.
“I miss our family dinners too,” I told them, hugging Jet, Van, and D.
“We love you, Faith,” they said, kissing me on the top of the head.
“I love her the most,” Amy cried, her tiny arms wrapping around me in a strong hug.
“I’ll have to disagree with you on that,” Kill replied, piling in on our group hug.
“You don’t count,” Amy mumbled.
A giggle burst from my lips as the warm air tickled my armpit.
Chapter 7
“Hey, do you want to go to the store with me?” I asked, knocking on Amy’s doorjamb.
She was in the middle of her bed, in a bright green tank top and turtle jammie pants. Her fingers flew over the keyboard on her laptop. She didn’t lose concentration, and I waited for her to finish what she was doing.
After a minute of listening to the clack of her fingers on her keyboard, she stopped to acknowledge me. “Nah, I got another order to help out with a band’s website. I need to get working on it because they really aren’t that good. And the lead singer’s fucking the drummer’s mother. I don’t expect that to end well when he finds out.”
“Amy, I’m so proud of you.” I giggled at the drama she found herself in almost daily.
When Amy left with the guys to do their first tour, she made a lot of contacts with newer bands and started giving them advice on their websites. She may have got her degree in biology, but Amy’s true calling was graphic design. We would spend hours talking about all the gossip she was now privy to in the music world. She now had a pretty good size clientele, and it seemed to keep growing.
I went over and sat next to her on the bed to get a glimpse of her work in progress.
“Thank you. I have four other websites I need to finish this month. I’ve categorized them on their long-term potential in order to maximize my profit.”
“Sexy and smart. Will you marry me?” I asked, getting off the bed. I wanted to get back from the store and start dinner before the boys got home.
“You couldn’t handle me,” Amy replied, her fingers and attention already back on her keyboard.
“That’s probably true. Do you need anything at the store?”
“Gummy bears.”
“Got it,” I said, walking toward her door.
“And Skittles.”
“Okay.”
“And licorice.”
I stopped to make sure her list of sugar demands was finished. She kept typing away, so I figured it was safe. Before I hit the first step, Amy cried out, “Cinnamon Bears.”
“Honey, we’re home. Fuck me, do you smell that? Faith’s in the kitchen,” Jet cried out when the front door opened.
Happiness flittered through me. The boys were trying so hard to keep the family aspect of this dynamic open. I admitted to Kill it helped me override the fear constantly lingering. We were stronger than ever, and we could do this.
“I’m in heaven,” Van said when he made his way into the kitchen and spotted the lasagna. It was on the stove top next to the garlic bread, waiting to be devoured.
“Hey, Slick, I missed you.” Kill moved to kiss me on the cheek but didn’t hinder the rest of the band while they drooled over dinner.
“I missed you too. Jet, go tell Amy dinner’s done. She’s been on her computer the whole day. She needs to take a break. She’s going to work her fingers to the bone.”
“Not on my watch. The only bone her fingers need to be working on is mine.” Jet dashed upstairs to save Amy.
“Did y
ou go to the store by yourself?” D asked, moving around the kitchen to get the plates.
“No, Gunther came back while you guys were in the studio and took me.”
“Good. I negotiated that you and Amy would have full use of any accommodations available to us. Lissa seems to keep forgetting that. Don’t let her get away with anything.” D continued to set the table with Kill’s help.
“She’s just doing her job. I think she forgets she’s dealing with real people. Cut her some slack,” Van said, grabbing the tray of lasagna and taking it over to the table.
“I get it. She’s supposed to be the best. That’s why the label assigned her to us. I don’t know, maybe I should cut her more slack. It’s hard giving up so much control over the band. I’ve been the go-to guy for so long, it’s taking some getting used to,” D admitted, snatching the bread off the stove.
“You were, and still are, doing a great job, D.” Kill pulled my chair out, making my heart melt. “I sometimes wonder if we need Lissa at all.”
“Of course we need her. She knows the ins and outs of this whole business. Not that you weren’t doing a great job, D. I just think we need to appreciate what we have in Lissa. She goes for what she wants without any pretenses. It’s refreshing.”
All eyes were on Van after he spoke. I glanced at Kill. He lifted his eyebrow, silently telling me he heard the underlying tone of something else as well. Van wasn’t talking about Lissa and her managerial skills. There was something else going on, but I wasn’t quite sure what it was just yet.
“Found her,” Jet yelled from the stairs. Amy was on his back as usual. Her face lit up when she saw all of us around the table.
“I missed this,” she said, jumping off Jet’s back so she could sit down.
“Me too,” Van agreed, scooping out a big helping of food.
“What’s that smell?” Gram asked, coming into the kitchen.
“Family dinner,” Jet replied, not bothering to hide his dislike.
“How cute.” Gram’s voice was full of distain. “Mind if we join you?”
The rest of the Cockfights walked in behind Gram. Chester, the only other band member I knew by name, eyed the food with appreciation.
“I didn’t really make enough to feed all of you. I’m sorry,” I replied. My ears grew hot from the uncomfortable tension. I wished we had taken everything upstairs instead of eating at the table.