by Tia Siren
“What do you want?” she asked, and the man couldn’t help but smile.
“I love you,” he said with a shrug as she stopped in front of him. They were standing next to his cherry red sports car.
“Don’t,” Dana said, holding a hand up.
“I wanted to tell you. I can’t stop thinking about you. The… duality you have, the… I’m just…”
“Intrigued?” Dana finished for him.
“In love,” he said instead. He reached out to take her hand, and the young woman let him.
“Come live with me. I miss you. I love you.”
“I told you not to buy my shop.”
“I know.”
“I wanted to do it all on my own.”
“I wanted to help. I think I already knew I loved you.”
“The worst part is I think I love you too,” Dana said. “Or at least, I did, but now… I don’t know. I trusted you… I told you I didn’t want your help.”
Greg sighed and held his hands up. “I sold the place, you know.”
“I know. The guy came by a few days ago.”
“You found a new job?” Greg asked her.
“Yes,” Dana said.
“You like it?”
“No.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Open a new shop. Not a sex shop, but something.”
Greg was nodding. “I could help you, if you wanted. Or not.”
Dana sighed. “Why are you here?”
“I want you to take me back,” Greg said.
“Why would I do that?”
“I sold your shop. To make it right.”
“You shouldn’t have bought it in the first place,” Dana said. She was growing tired of the argument, but she found herself yearning to ask the man to come inside, yearning to pull him to her bed.
“I gave all of the money to charity,” Greg said.
“Which one?”
Greg laughed. “A lot of them.”
Dana couldn’t help it. She threw herself forward, into his arms, and he wrapped those arms around her. Their lips met, and he backpedaled. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held a finger to his lips.
“Shut up,” she said. “Take me inside and fuck me. Oh, and I’m in charge this time.”
Greg smiled. “Yes ma'am,” he said.
Dana gripped him by the hair and pulled roughly. “I said keep quiet,” she said again. And all through the night, he did.
*****
THE END
ROCKSTAR Romance - Rock Me, Rockstar
''I'm afraid if you want to further your career, it's that or nothing,'' Josie said. She wasn't even looking at Cara, she was reading her emails.
''But I really can't. The memory is still too painful to.....''
''Cara. I've had enough of your whining now. You either do it or pack your bags.''
Cara hung her head and left the office. It was her third week as a junior reporter at Revolver Rock Magazine. She liked it, she felt she was at the beginning of a great career in music journalism, but Josie was turning out to be a real bitch. It wasn't as if she was much older than Cara. But Josie hadn't taken as long as Cara to decide what she wanted to do and had made the position of editor her own in double quick time. Whether it was because she was a good journalist or the fact that she was sleeping with Nick Best, the gorgeous media tycoon that owned the magazine, Cara didn't know. She suspected it was the latter.
Cara had graduated in journalism a year ago. She'd spent a few months afterward bumming around on the beaches of California trying to mend her broken heart. When she'd heard that Josie, who'd graduated at the same time as she, already made Editor, Cara decided to get serious and start working.
Cara was more beautiful than Josie, and Josie knew it. Maybe that's why she was being such a bitch. She was scared Nick would dump her for the better-looking woman. But Cara wasn't interested in Nick or any man for that matter. She just wanted to knuckle down and develop her career.
''Why's life so damn difficult?'' Cara asked.
Ted looked up from his desk. ''Dunno, it just is.'' Ted fancied Cara, big time. Nick had hired him around the same time as Cara, his second junior journalist hiring of the year. Ted wasn't the best-looking guy in the world, but he could write. He was tall and thin with a big nose and sunken eyes. He was more geek than hunk but Cara like him. He was generous and had a wickedly dry sense of humor. Ted for his part loved Cara. When he got back to his shared apartment in the evening, he would complain to his peers, that he wasn't able to concentrate at work. One day it was her beautiful legs, rubbing against each other that distracted him, the next day it would be her breasts peeking out over a low cut top.
''She's making me do it, I can't believe it,'' Cara said.
''It's cruel of her. But think of it this way, it's a massive chance for you to further your career. Of course, she could send me instead. I think she's just doing it to spite you,'' Ted mumbled as he fiddled with a digital camera.
''I don't know why she would want to spite me. I've done nothing wrong.''
''Ah. You haven't done anything wrong. But Nick can't keep his eyes off you, and she wants you gone.''
''Really?'' That hadn't occurred to Cara. ''How perceptive of you Ted.'' Cara got up from her desk and kissed him on the cheek. A massive grin appeared on his face as he inhaled her scent.
*****
The University of South California - Arthur Morris School of Journalism had looked very intimidating to Cara when she'd first arrived there as a fresh eighteen-year-old.
Her mother had cried, and her father had had a tear in his eyes when they'd dropped her off at Trojan Hall, one of four freshman halls of residence on the campus. Her sister, just seven had given her a knitted bear as a lucky charm. Cara didn't sleep much on her first night. There were echoes as people came and went in the corridor outside her room, and she was sure she heard a couple having sex in the room next to hers.
Cara was there to study seriously, and she doubted anyone would catch her coming back to halls in the middle of the night or entertaining men in her room. That was what she thought before she'd met Giles, otherwise known as Shifty.
''Hi, what's your name?''
''Cara.''
''You're hot, Cara.''
He'd made her blush. She'd never thought of herself as hot, although lots of boys at school had asked her on a date. She'd only ever kissed one guy, a guy from her village called Henk. She'd enjoyed the kiss, but not his hand up her skirt.
''What's your name?''
''Giles. But I hate Giles. They call me Shifty.''
''Why?'' Cara asked thinking he must have done something dishonest in the past.
''Because when I play the guitar my hands shift up and down the keyboard so fast you can't see them move.''
''Really? And are you any good at the guitar?''
''I'm okay I suppose.''
Cara had always wanted to play guitar, but her parents had made her play the violin. Her father had told her it was more becoming of a young lady, and far better to be classically trained than stand on stage making an almighty din. She'd faithfully gone to lessons once a week and scraped away in her bedroom to please him, but she'd never taken to it. It ended in tears one day when Cara, a hormonal teenager at the time, had taken a pair of scissors and cut through the strings.
Cara hadn't known what to think of Shifty in the beginning. He wasn't like any man she'd ever met. All the guys in her year at high school had been nice guys, well dressed with well-cut hair and pressed shirts. Shifty wore ripped jeans, T-shirts covered in expletives and sneakers that Cara wanted to take off him and throw in the trash. His blonde hair was shoulder length, and although clean, it was beginning to form into dreadlocks.
But he had something she liked. She saw through the image he was trying to create. She saw a sensitive man, a man who liked culture, a shy man hiding behind a facade.
''So what are you studying Shifty?'' Cara asked. They were sitting in one of the
canteens at USC. He'd seen her sitting alone reading a book and decided to sit next to her.
''Oh, I'm not.''
''Not what?'' she asked.
''I'm not studying anything.''
''So what brings you here if you're not a student?''
''Cheap meals.''
''But you can only eat here if you're a student.''
''Who the hell asks? They're happy to take my money.''
At the time, it seemed daring to Cara. She'd never done anything remotely incorrect. She knew it wasn't the crime of the century but still, he was breaking the rules.
''You look like a proper student. They'd never refuse you,'’ he said.
''What do you mean?''
''You look prim and proper. You're well dressed. Skirt, blouse, ribbon in your hair.''
''Is there anything wrong with that?
''Er...no....suppose not.''
''Well, it's better than looking like an undercover cop from the vice squad.''
He looked at her. Her beauty took his breath away. She was classically beautiful, more Audrey Hepburn than Cameron Diaz. She was the kind of girl he knew his mom would like. His mom and dad were professional people, she a surgeon, he a lawyer, and they both despaired of Shifty or Giles as they called him. They often wondered what they had done wrong in his upbringing. His mother sometimes cried when she thought what he could be. She'd told him until she was blue in the face, that he could do better. She'd told him thousands of times how intelligent he was in an effort to encourage him to better himself. But Shifty wanted to play music, and that's what he was going to do. Even a serious fight with his father hadn't changed his mind. His father had become so frustrated with him, that he'd taken him into the yard and challenged him to a boxing match. He hadn't realized how strong Shifty had become until Shifty landed a punch on his nose, splitting it in two.
''I don't look anything like the vice squad,'' he complained. ''I look like me.''
''Do you do drugs Shifty?'' she asked abruptly.
''No. What makes you say that?''
''Dunno.'' She did know. She fancied him, and if he was going to ask her out, she wanted to know beforehand what he was.
''Well if you think I look like a junkie all I can say is, see you later.'' He got up and sat a few tables away.
Cara was surprised to find how disappointed she was when he went. She'd made a deal with herself not to get involved with anyone at college, but she would have been fully prepared to break that deal if he'd asked her on a date. He was tall and handsome, and his green eyes had spoken to her. He'd brought life to the table; now she was alone again. She stood up and went to his table where she sat down.
''What are you doing?'' he asked.
''You went off in a sulk before our conversation had finished.''
''As far as I was concerned it was finished.'
''Well as far as I was concerned it wasn't.''
''You insulted me.''
''Have you got such a thin skin?''
''No.''
It was going nowhere, Cara thought. ''Tell me about your music Shifty.''
His face suddenly lit up. ''Do you like music?''
''Yes. I used to play violin.''
Shifty pulled a face. ''I write my own stuff.''
''What kind of stuff?'' Cara hated the word stuff. It was a lazy word used when people couldn't be bothered to speak properly.
''Rock, ballads mostly. Love, pain, death, betrayal, that sort of thing.''
Cara leaned on the table with her elbows and set about reappraising him. She added driven to the list. ''Will you play for me sometime?'' she asked. What are you doing Cara, she asked herself? No guys until after college remember?
''Are you sure you'd like that?''
That was the opportunity for Cara to change her mind, get back on track, but she didn't take it. ''I'm sure I would.''
*****
Cara had made an effort to look the part, but she didn't possess the kind of clothes Shifty wore. She managed a pair of jeans, a red blouse and a pair of sneakers. She also let her hair down for the occasion.
''Did you find it okay?'' he asked.
''It was a bit tricky, to be honest. The cab driver didn't know where it was, neither did the controller.''
Shifty was sitting on a disused loading dock in a broken down industrial estate. Cara had never been to such a rough place. Even the cab driver had asked her if she was sure she wanted to get out there.
''Come inside,'' he said.
Cara followed him into the disused building. It had been some kind of warehouse in a former life. Now there was a stage made of wood against the back wall and a few seats littered around the place.
''Sorry, it's a bit basic, but I can't afford anywhere else. I even have to pinch the electric from the next building,'' he said. He pointed to a cable that came from behind the stage, ran up the wall and through a window.
''No, it's fine. I'm looking forward to hearing you play.'' She cringed as her imagination took over. He was standing on the stage, guitar in hand, making the most awful noise she'd ever heard. That was her worst fear. She would feel so sorry for him if he was no good. He would be living a lie, and she didn't think she could take it if that were the case. She already cared for him too much to think he was wasting his life pursuing a dream that had absolutely no chance of ever being fulfilled.
''Sit here,'' he said pulling a grubby looking chair toward the stage. ''Right, now give me a few minutes, I need to tune up.''
Cara sat patiently and watched a few pigeons nesting in the rafters high above them. He sat on the edge of the stage and tuned an electric guitar. When he was ready, he stood up and bowed to her.
''Lady, no gentlemen, welcome to this mini concert. The first song is called, ''Why I Fell For You.'' Cara applauded and sat on the edge of her seat, fingers crossed he wasn't' going to make a real fool of himself.
When he started to play and sing, Cara almost fell from her chair. His voice had such power and despite being ignorant of guitar playing ability, she knew he was very good indeed. She looked at his face and noticed how completely engrossed in the song he was. The lyrics were beautiful, about a woman he'd fallen in love with but who'd jilted him for a man with more money. She felt a lump in her throat. She felt like one of the judges on a talent contest, one who had just found the talent of the century.
When he stopped, she just stared at him. ''You can applaud if you want,'' he said.
''Oh. Sorry.'' She woke from her daze and clapped.
''Didn't you like it?'' he asked, not realizing her silence was caused by awe, not by disinterest.
''Oh Shifty, you are wonderfully gifted. When I came here, I feared you wouldn't be any good. But you’re are amazing. You've got to keep going at this.''
Shifty smiled at her appraisal. ''Thanks. I intend to keep going until someone takes notice of me.''
As Shifty packed up his guitar, Cara was already thinking what sort of father he would be and what their children would look like. When his case was packed, he smiled at her. She was flushed with excitement and desire for him and he noticed.
''Do you want to get a coffee?'' he asked.
She wanted to say: I want you to fuck me, here on this stage but ''Okay,' was all she could manage.
The Fillpot was a seedy little cafe, frequented by truckers and prostitutes. ''I like it here,'' he said. ''So many different characters, so much inspiration.''
Cara would never in her wildest dreams have gone into a place like that. But with Shifty it seemed right. She wasn't afraid when he was with her. ''How many songs have you written?'' she asked wrapping her hands around a generously sized mug of coffee.
''Dunno. A few hundred.''
''A few hundred,'' she exclaimed. ''Have you made an album yet?''
He looked disappointed. ''Do you know how much it costs? It's way out of my league.''
Cara wanted to ask her parents for the money. Anything to help him. He was so darn gorgeous; his talent had to be s
een. It had to be. ''Shifty,'' she said.
He looked at her. ''What?''
''You know you called me hot the other day in the canteen.''
He laughed. ''Sorry. That was impolite.''
''No, no, I liked it. I liked it a lot. I like you. A lot.'' That was it; she'd told him. Her face was flushed and between her legs, she could feel damp desire. When he didn't reply, she was afraid she'd made a fool of herself. If this was love she already hated it.
''Well you are hot, and I like you too,'' he said after a long pause. ''So you think I'm a rock star, huh?'' he asked a smirk on his face.
''Oh yes. You certainly are.''
''Okay then, how about a kiss.''
''Here?'' she exclaimed. She didn't know if it was good or bad. A date would have been better. It would have confirmed a long-term intention. A kiss could be anything. It could mean a peck on the cheek, or be the prelude to sex. Oh God, what if he wanted sex? She wasn't ready. She was a virgin, and she didn't have a clue what to do. She was bound to make a fool of herself. What if he found her fumbling efforts inadequate? What if he wanted her to perform fellatio? Oh, Jesus. Then there was birth control. A kiss? Why not a simple date?
''Come with me,' he said. She stood up and followed him into the back. There were restrooms and a door without a sign on it. Cara had her first meaningful kiss in a storage cupboard. But she didn't care when his lips touched hers. He tasted fresh and salty, and his masculine scent drove her to thrust her tongue into his mouth. From that moment, she knew she loved him. She thought of what her gran had always told her when Cara had asked about love.
''You just feel when it's right. You instinctively know.''
Cara did too. If her father had known, he would have asked a lot of difficult questions. She imagined him asking about Shifty's background and his career plans. She knew exactly what he would say when Cara told him Shifty wanted to be a rock star. But life was for living, and Shifty excited her, and she wanted him.