Claiming Addison: 69 Bottles #1

by Zoey Derrick

  “No worries, we have room on the bus for it.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say surprised.

  “This way.”

  He leads me toward the closer of the two buses, but I notice that his pace slows until we are more side-by-side and I catch him peeking over at me. I keep looking at him because there is something very familiar about him, but I can’t place it. I know it’s going to drive me nuts until I do. He, on the other hand, keeps sizing me up, looking me over and I want to roll my eyes. Keep wanting, buddy, because you aren’t ever gonna touch. Nobody touches anymore. I think sadly.

  “Hello boys,” Kyle says to the two on door duty. “I’d like to introduce you to Addison, she’ll be tagging along on this here tour.” I watch as Kyle smiles widely at his fake southern hillbilly accent. “Addison, this is Beck.” Agent K in my mind, “And this is Leroy.” I smile at the name because well, it fits, but yet it doesn’t. Leroy is huge and I hold my hand out to him first.

  He takes it and my pale skin looks paler up against his, and tiny as hell. “Pleasure to meet you, Leroy. Have we met before?”

  He smiles. “No, ma’am, though I’ve seen you before. I was assigned to Mrs. Michaels for some time a few months back.”

  I nod in recognition. “That’s right, I remember now.”

  I turn to Beck, extending the same greeting. Though his facial features are not unattractive, he has a very hard demeanor about him. Why? I’m not sure. He softens enough to take my hand. “Nice to meet you, Beck.”

  “Likewise, ma’am.” He pulls his hand back and returns to his position. I see Leroy giving him the stink eye and I smile.

  “Well, gentleman, see you later,” Kyle says as he ushers me toward the three stairs onto the bus. I climb up and get a full shot of the interior and holy crap. It's such a masculine space, filled with blacks, chromes and reds. Immediately in front of me is an L shaped couch with a couple of tables in front of it. The couch is on the right side of the bus, behind the driver’s throne. Across from the couch is a kitchen that looks rather state of the art with an overly large dorm refrigerator on the far end wall. On the wall opposite the fridge is a large flat screen that literally has half an inch to spare between the bus wall and the hallway that leads toward the back of the bus.

  I can see three curtains, open, stacked on top of each other and there are two men standing in front of them putting stuff away.

  “Hey guys,” Kyle says.

  “What, dick?” One of the guys replies, laughing and turning toward me and Kyle. They both stop dead in their tracks, staring at me. They make no secret of the fact that they’re looking me up and down.

  “You brought a pre-road snack I see.” And he starts moving in my direction in a rather unsexy yet provocative advancement.

  “Shut it, Dex,” Kyle snaps.

  “Oh but Kyle, she isn’t here for you. She’d take me over you any day.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” I blurt. Dex is tall, maybe six two or six three. He’s not overly large, but he has well-muscled arms that are completely covered in ink. I can also see a couple of tats popping the top of the collar on his t-shirt. He is also in a tight fitting white t-shirt and snug jeans, only he’s swapped his shit-kickers for well-worn brown flip-flops. He keeps eye-fucking me. My hand twitches with the impulse to punch him.

  “I can tell, this one’s gonna be feisty, but just you wait-,” he says to Kyle but he’s still looking me up and down. He never finishes his sentence, but the look of ‘I’ll get her first’ is there. I want to roll my eyes.

  “Addison, this is Dex, the drummer, and regular fuckwad. The big guy behind him sporting what would normally be a hawk is Peacock, or Eric or shithead. He usually answers to each one.”

  Peacock sidesteps Dex to come toward me; he extends his hand. “Nice to meet you, Addison.”

  I smile and take his hand. “Same here.” He extends a smile to me. Peacock, as he seems to be affectionately called, is a big man and based off of the name Eric, he’s the bassist. All in all, he’s pretty good looking. I can see tattoos and while he’s a bigger guy, he’s not unfit. I can see the outline of his pecs through his black t-shirt. Ironically, the jeans and shit-kickers seem to be the norm around here.

  “Addison is replacing Dylan.”

  “That fuck-tard. I must say that his replacement is already a million times better on my eyes.” Dex gives me that bad attempt at being seductive again.

  “Forget it, Dex. You ain't got nothin’ I want,” I tell him straight out. His eyes light up giving me the realization that I’ve just given him the ultimate challenge.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “Dex!” I hear someone bark from behind him. “Knock your shit off.” I look past both Dex and Peacock to see a tall man, very tall actually, taller than I am by nearly a foot, with light brown shaggy hair with natural highlights and a scruffy beard. But what I'm hypnotized by the most are his vibrant green eyes that have an almost glowing effect. He’s wearing a white t-shirt that’s cut off at the sleeves, a black leather vest, and he has an outrageous amount of tattoos covering his arms. Looking at him makes my mouth water and my pussy weep. Jesus. “You must be Addison,” he says in a sweet, sexy, and completely panty melting voice as he parts the sea of Dex and Peacock. “I’m Talon.”

  Oh boy, I’m in trouble. Get your shit in gear, Addison, don’t blow this shit now. Turn off your fucking hormones. He doesn’t want you. He’s just being friendly. “Hi Talon, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I hold out my hand.

  He takes it gently in his. “Likewise,” he says without much confidence. God, his hands are huge and warm and callused on the pads of his fingers. There is an electric zing that passes between us when we make contact and my hormones go back into overdrive. If I’m not mistaken, he feels it too. “Likewise,” he says again in that sweet voice. I can feel a collective huff of the men around me and I wonder idly what that’s all about, but I’m having a hard time giving a shit. At least until he lets go of my hand. Good, maybe that means Dex will drop his shit.

  “So, Red?” Dex queries. “What the hell possessed you to take this damn gig?”

  I snort a laugh. “Honestly, I have no fucking clue.” Thankful for the distraction from Talon, I look to Dex, but that same raging heat is still burning in his eyes. In fact it is in all of their eyes and I suddenly feel like I’m on display as a buffet ready to be eaten at a moment’s notice.

  “Alright, guys, let’s let her get settled while we wait for Mouse.”

  “That fucker still isn’t here?” Talon growls. “He should’ve been here twenty minutes ago. Kyle, call him when you’re done.” Just then the crowd outside picks up in volume. “Nevermind, he’s here.”

  Kyle ushers me past the men. It’s amazing that they all seem to fit on this bus given how big they all are and I can tell right away that Dex is going to be my number one enemy during this tour. I know his type. He’s the drummer. Ironically you’d think that the guitarist and the lead singer would out score the drummer on the women front, but no, they all want the drummer. Which of course has made Dex cocky as fuck.

  “Here is the bathroom.” I peek inside and the small counter is littered with a shit ton of hair products, razors, shavers, and brushes. Jesus, there is more shit on there than in my own bathroom. Fucking rock stars. Aside from that, the accommodations are pretty small inside. “The shower is behind the door. It’s narrow, but it is longer than most stand ups. I don’t recommend showering while in motion. It’s a bitch.” He laughs and I join him. The image is pretty comical.

  He turns around facing the bunks where Dex and Peacock were standing when I came on board. “This is Mouse,” he points to the lower of the three bunks, “then Peacock, and finally Dex is up top. The guys usually spend most of their time in their racks and I don’t recommend opening the curtains if they’re closed, you never know what you’re going to find. Each one has a TV that hooks into headphones and believe me, there is no shortage of porn on this bus.”
>
  “Fuckin' a Kyle, why you gotta be like that?” Dex says from behind me and I turn in his direction. “Spilling all our fucking secrets and she’s been on the bus for five minutes. What the fuck?”

  “Whatever, Dex. She doesn’t need to open your curtain to you spankin' your junk. Don’t need to scare the poor girl.”

  “You know what dick, who gives a fuck? She’s on this damn bus, she can fucking get used to it.” I roll my eyes at Dex and he gives me a hard stare. “With you around, my curtain is gonna be closed all the time.” He runs his tongue over his lips like he tastes something sweet and I want to cringe. So much for my weeping pussy-- I knew I should’ve rubbed one out before I left this morning. I mean, come on, they’re fucking rock stars. Of course they're gonna be hot. Who the hell was I kidding?

  “Just keep your dick to yourself, Dex,” I tell him but he isn’t shaken. I shake my head.

  “Come on, Addison, back here.” We turn a very short corner then another one headed toward the back of the bus. Immediately ahead of us is a door, closed. Kyle points to it. “That’s Talon’s room. And this,” he points to a black curtain “is our room.”

  “Our room?” I say, trying not to scream. Of all the people on this bus I have to share a room… oh. He pulls back the curtain and beyond it are two bunks, similar in style to the ones where Dex and them sleep, but these beds are slightly bigger and there is a lot more headroom between each bunk and the ceiling.

  “Top or bottom?”

  I turn to him. “Huh?”

  “Which bunk do you want?”

  “Oh.” Jeez, Addie, get your shit together. “Whichever you don’t want.”

  He rolls his eyes. “I haven’t picked one. I knew you were coming, so I wanted to let you choose.” Ah sweet…gag.

  “Um, I’ll take the top.”

  “Good choice.” He looks at me; his eyes are on fire with the words I’ve just spoken, as if I’ve just agreed to be on top of him. A shiver runs through me and I can feel my nipples harden. Fucking perfect, my body has a hard-on for the manager and my pussy is crying over Talon.

  I may have had a 7 year dry spell, but I’m not a prude. I’m sure you’re probably thinking that right about now, but honestly, I’m not. There’s just too much in my history and in my life to make me want to lie down with any man and spread my legs. In fact, I haven’t done that in over seven years. The reasons why are unimportant, but after Dan’s accident, men just never looked at me the same. Maybe it was because I got my boob job and it brought out the dogs and drooling idiots, or maybe it’s because I put out a ‘don’t touch her’ pheromone that drives men away. Who knows and frankly I’m not sure that I cared, until now. Talon is the first man to ever excite me, down there, and well, Kyle is having an impact too and it’s unsettling for a girl who’s spent seven years working, not fucking.

  “Okay, we get a closet. It’s small, but there are some hangers in there. Go ahead and put your stuff away, get yourself settled. Mouse will be in shortly and I can introduce you before we all sit down and talk,” Kyle says as he turns to leave our tiny space. To call it a room is an understatement. There is no curtain separating my bunk from the world, but there is a curtain separating our shared space from the bus, so I guess that’s a good thing, right?

  “Alright, thanks.” I take a look around. There’s some floor space between the side of the bunks and the walls and a good chunk of floor between the curtain and the long edge of the bunks. I notice too that the beds are wider than the ones the guys have and I almost feel guilty taking the wider bunk, leaving bigger guys to sleep in smaller spaces.

  The closet is about two feet deep and filled mostly with shelves. There are a couple of drawers.

  “Oh, the top two drawers are yours.” Kyle says from the entryway before he ducks beyond the curtain. I can hear the guys talking but it is muffled so I can’t quite make it out.

  Anyway, thankful for drawers and hanging space, I set about emptying my duffle and some of my suitcase. I’d thrown enough clothes into my duffle bag to get me to Vegas tomorrow where we’d be in a hotel. I don’t unpack everything, but I do hang up the couple of my dresses I brought along with me, and put my undergarments in the drawers. I don’t wear bras much because of the surgery; it’s rather unnecessary. I still pass the old pencil test. You know, the one where you put a pencil under your tit to see if it stays or if it falls. Believe me, it falls.

  A few minutes later I’m satisfied enough with my progress. I don’t know whether or not I’ll get back here before the show. I need to chat with the guys, especially Kyle. I need to know what he needs me to do besides my PR job.

  I go back into the main cabin of the bus. Dex, Talon, Kyle and Peacock are sitting around the tables in the ‘dining room’ and the one I haven’t met yet is working on his bunk. I come to stand next to him and he stops dead in his tracks, staring at my black peep toe pumps and deep purple nail polish on my toes. I watch, with a smirk, as his eyes slowly slide up my exposed legs in a very slow manner. I roll my eyes and shake my head. I hear a bunch of laughter coming from the couch and I chuckle.

  “Forget it, man, she’s got iron knees,” I hear Dex say.

  “Only for you.” I tease back at him, resisting the undeniable urge to stick my tongue out at him. My burst at Dex brings on another round of laughter from the guys.

  I’m still waiting for Mouse’s eyes to finally reach mine or for him to stand up, but instead I watch his palm twitch like he’s desperate to touch me as his eyes continue raking up my frame. “Well, what do we have here?” he finally says, and in an instant, I understand why he’s called ‘Mouse’. His voice is higher than it should be for a man of his size and he sounds a lot like Mickey Mouse. Frankly, I’m surprised he can fit between the bunks and the wall of the bathroom crouched down like he is. I can also tell that he isn’t anywhere near as built as the rest of the guys in the band and if I had to guess, he’s barely six feet tall and lanky.

  Finally his eyes meet mine. “Enjoy the view?” I raise my eyebrows at him, and then watch as he swallows hard, but all he can manage is a slight nod. “I’m Addison.” I hold my hand out to shake his and watch as the fire in his eyes smolders briefly then fades away. He stands and I see I was right, he’s not that much taller than I am, in fact we’re nearly eye to eye, but the four inch heels I’m wearing are helping that.

  “Pleasure to meet you,” he says with a sly smirk and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

  “She’s rather hypnotic, isn’t she?” I hear one of the guys say, though I don’t know their voices well enough to decipher whether it was Kyle or Talon who spoke.

  “You boys seriously need to get laid,” I tease them all.

  “We’re trying,” they all spout back in unison and just like that the sexual tension explodes on the bus and I know without a doubt that I’m screwed seven ways from Sunday, big time.

  “My eyes are up here, buddy,” I say to Mouse and he shakes himself out of his trance.

  “Sorry,” he says rather sheepishly. “I’m trying to decide which I want to lick more, your slit or that beautiful bust…”

  “Jesus, Mouse, knock it off. Y’all are a bunch of damn pigs,” I hear someone say, not seeing who said it, but judging by the tone, I’m assuming it’s Talon. My judgment is confirmed when he stands up and stalks towards us, grabbing Mouse’s shoulder. “Seriously, back off.”

  “A bit testy, aren’t we, mate? Saving her for yourself?” Mouse raises his eyebrows at him.

  “No, she’s a woman, she’s here to do a job and she deserves our respect. She’s been on this bus for all of twenty minutes and every single one of us as already eye fucked her at least once. You’ve had your turn, now shove off. We have a meeting.” Talon pushes against Mouse’s shoulder.

  I smile at Talon’s act of chivalry, but I can’t say I’m fooled. I sense a hint of jealousy in his push off of Mouse and I wonder exactly where that’s coming from. Then again, like he said, they’ve all tried to eye fuck me since
I boarded. For some reason, the idea of them all eye-fucking me sends a thrill through me.

  “Alright, boys. Let’s get this over with. A few rules.” They all take a seat, except for Kyle who remains leaning against the counter in the kitchen. “First of all, I’m not your mother. I won’t tell you what to do or when to do it, but if you step out of line, get your dick stuck in something you shouldn’t, I will be the first to jump your ass. I am here for your protection and more than anything; I’m here to keep your noses clean and out of the tabloids. Which, based off of my introduction to you all, is going to be more work than I ever imagined.” I look at all the guys, whose eyes are pinned on me, but interestingly enough, not on my lady bits.

  “I won’t get in your way, I’m here to help in any way I can.” I look at Kyle when I say that, trying to convey that I will help him with things unrelated to PR work.

  Dex lets out a hot whistle. “Except for the pinky between your legs, Dex,” I tell him. That garners some whooping from the rest of the guys, but Dex looks pissed. I smirk.

  “It ain't no pinky, sweetheart. It’s an anaconda,” he bites back.

  I snort. “Please, any man who refers to his junk as an anaconda obviously has a pinky in there.”

  He stands up, grabbing his belt buckle. “Want me to show you?”

  Kyle pushes him back into his seat. “Knock it off.”

  “She started it,” Dex argues back at him.

  “Great, what are we five?” I'm snarky with him. “I am not here to service your dick, Dex. I am here to keep your nose clean and help you make a name for yourself.”

  “Yeah, whatever,” he sulks.

  “Look, I know your last guy was an idiot, and for that I’m sorry, but you’ve got twelve weeks of hell coming up and all I want to do is help make it easier. I’ll be working on some sponsorships that will make you guys even more money, but I can’t do that if you go off half fucking cocked and blow a good reputation. If you fuck up, it’s my ass that has to deal with it. So a little word to the wise, Dexyboy, don’t piss me off.”