Saving Abel (Rocker Series)

by Gina Whitney

  “Yep, that’s what I said. Now, move your ass, sister.” I made a bee-line for the entrance. I didn’t even want to look back for fear she would ramble on about how wacked I was. Breed was a perfect way to describe what I was meaning to say.

  “Slow your gate, please. I can’t walk so fast in these heels. Shit. The balls of my feet are already starting to hurt. You know what that means, right?” She tugged on my arm, slowing me down.

  “I’ll bite. What does it mean?” I asked, scratching my arm. It was getting buggy out. I hated bugs. Her eyes zeroed in on my now-scratched arm. And then she started scratching, too—both of her arms simultaneously.

  “It means, I’ll have to figure out a way to keep my feet up—preferably while I’m on my back.” She smiled with a snort. She was a funny chick. And that right there was why I loved her, through and through.

  “You’re a genius. I don’t even belong in your presence. In fact, you should have a court. I will request an audience with you,” I said, grabbing her hand. We laughed. Both of us were Royalty nerds: we loved and watched anything having to do with the Monarchy.

  Chapter 4

  Abel

  A pair of sexy milk-chocolate eyes haunted me. Not in a scary way, but in an “I’m never going to let you rest until you’ve tasted me” type of way. It was fucking with my head—hard.

  Unfortunately, the eyes looking up at me were blue. Not the brown ones I’ve been fantasying about. But, I needed this—needed release. I took a deep breath, relaxed, and closed my eyes, trying to focus on the sounds of her sucking me off. Yeah, that was much better. I widened my legs, giving her ample access to my balls and hoping she’d take the hint. It pissed me off when I had to school a girl in how to properly suck cock. The chick on her knees was a brunette. She was yanking my dick so hard, she had broken a sweat. This was getting ridiculous and fucking annoying. The sound of some girl’s laughter in the hallway distracted me. Girls weren’t allowed to troll around backstage. So who the fuck was that?

  Before I could get the chick off my dick, a knock sounded, followed by the door opening. Fuck me, those same milk-chocolate eyes connected with mine—then focused on the back of the head of the blue-eyed chick bobbing up and down on my dick.

  “Shit. I’m so sorry, Abel. Um, Ender told us he’d meet us in here. Fuck, I’m sorry,” Cindy exclaimed while hustling back out of the room. Gia, however, said not a word—but in her eyes I saw possessiveness. Then she turned and slammed the door behind her so hard it echoed in my ears for a minute. I hardened. Blue-eyes never took her eyes off the prize. She continued lavishing my cock with her tongue, without even looking up. Gia was feisty. I liked that. And that right there made me lose my shit in Blue-eyes’ mouth. What was it with this Gia girl? Would my appetite for her be sated when I finally got her?

  I just stood there, buttoning my pants, and then I turned and left the room without a word. I had some questions for Ender.

  Notes of a Latin melody drifted off stage. He was tuning his guitar. This was his usual routine before we gigged. His sultry vibe had a calming effect on the beast within. I knew exactly how he felt: I dealt with the beast myself. However, I needed to talk to him. He was fucking my shit up with Gia. And it was pissing me the fuck off.

  “Dude, why in the fuck would you tell Cindy and Gia to come into my dressing room?” I asked, folding my arms. He never looked up, but just smiled and continued playing.

  “Yo, motherfucker, I’m talking to you. What you did wasn’t appreciated.” I kicked the side of his chair with my boot. This time he opened his eyes, placed his guitar in the holder, and gave me his undivided attention.

  “What I told them is meet me in our dressing room. Now, if they interrupted your pre-performance get-down with a chick—that’s on you, bollo. He stood up, stepping into my comfort zone, smirking. Fucker knew he was fucking with me.

  “Newsflash, esse.. I was getting head, asshole. I don’t need two chicks fucking my shit up. They work for my old man. It’s a respect thing.” I turned and started to walk away. But he wasn’t going to let this go. He was a fucking pain in my ass.

  “Let me get this straight, Abel,” he huffed incredulously. You’re worried about coming off as disrespectful, because of your dad. Not for any other reason, like, say, maybe a brown-eyed reason you’ve managed to bring coffee to every morning? Afraid what she might think of you now?”

  I knew then I needed to walk off some of this tension coiling my body. I didn’t need this. What I did need was to be loose and ready for this performance. Performing got me off just as much as a tight pussy. The pulsing energy from the crowd fed my beast, nurturing my soul in the most visceral way. I felt invincible—complete. But afterwards, I needed to release my darkness. The demon in me needed to be fed, to relish in someone else’s pain, agony, and pleasure. This was my cross and I would bare this cross as long as I lived. I needed this as much as I needed oxygen. Tonight I would be laying down some pipe. Who the lucky girl was … I had no clue.

  When I reached the green room backstage I could hear her melodic laughter. Her sensual lure drove me to the brink of a C4 explosion. I needed to be around her. Possessiveness rode me hard. I wanted to be the one to make her laugh—and the one to hold her when she cried. My mind was already breaking it down for me: one hand around her throat, the other twisted firmly in her hair, as I simultaneously pushed my way inside her. The caveman in me wanted to rear his face with Gia. I was always forceful and dominant. It’s who I am. I had accepted my alpha tendencies years ago. But there was something unique about Gia. And it spoke directly to the Master in me. This girl was playing with my fucking mind. I craved bending her across my knee.

  “Ten minutes,” I said, grabbing a water. Woody nodded and then continued with his sticks tapping out beats on his knee. Jake gave me the thumbs-up. And Ender was making the girls cocktails. How very hospitable of him.

  Cindy turned towards me with a knowing smile. Hmm, what was that about? Was I being obvious? I needed to get into my zone. Not wanting to engage in conversation, I put my ear-buds in, cued up our new album, and reclined in my favorite chair. Ender led the girls to the couch to sit down. He sat between them. He was in full peacocking, Lothario mode. The atmosphere was relaxing, but the sexual tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

  It wasn’t until Ender leaned back, wrapping the girls up in his muscled arms, that my eyebrows cocked questioningly. My jaw felt tight from pressure; my hands closed around my iPhone so hard they cracked the screen in one squeeze. Fuck. Gia leaned forward, away from his touch. This pleased me. She licked her lips, eye-fucking me. Now, that right there would get her on her back and under me real fucking quick. My cock sprang to life. We needed to take the stage. I jumped up, hard-on and all. I had no shame.

  “Let’s hit it, boys!” I grabbed my guitar and got the fuck out of there. I could feel her heated eyes on me. I didn’t need to look. My body knew they were there. I burned for her. My cock was hard for her. However, right now I was going to rock the fuck out. This is what my fans came to see—and I was going to give them what they came for. And Gia would experience it from backstage. This was going to get real fucking interesting …

  Chapter 5

  Gia

  It was just my luck he was getting a blow-job when I walked in. Life was so unfair. It couldn’t be me, right? It had to be some unworthy hole. My body completely locked up. I had no words, only thoughts of one very dead skank. His eyes found mine. He knew. My eyes always gave me away. I never have been able to hide shit from anybody. And right now, I was one nauseous girl. I needed a goddamned drink and quick, before I lost it.

  Catching myself in my momentary psychosis, I high-tailed it out of there, thinking I’d have to bleach my fucking eyeballs after seeing that shit. I slammed the door harder then I should’ve. Cindy threaded her fingers through mine, giving me a frown. Yeah, having to watch him getting blown by another bitch sucked. I knew he was a whore. Hell, they all were. They were rock stars. But damn
, that had me aching. It turned me into a zombie. Cindy pulled me along, opening the doors, as we continued looking for the guys.

  “Thank fuck,” she said, walking into the room where Jake and Woody were. They looked up curiously. I just shrugged, as I tried to come out of my stupefied state. I needed to move past this real quick. Who needed this to ruin their night? Not me! My obsessive-compulsive mind had that vile image tethered to it. Just great!

  “Hey guys,” I called out, waving. “Ender said for us to come hang. I’m assuming he’ll join us shortly. Said something about tuning his guitar,” I rambled on. I needed a drink, stat, or I’d be a blatantly obvious mess. I didn’t want to tip my hand where Abel was concerned. This needed to be slow and steady.

  “Ender likes to tune his own gear. We usually let the roadies handle that shit. That’s what they get paid for, anyways,” Jake explained. “Did you happen to see Abel?” He seemed puzzled.

  Cindy and I just looked at each other, not wanting to bring up that mishap. I just wanted to forget about it.

  “Let’s just say we accidently walked into his room and he may or may not have been getting a blow job,” Cindy retorted, waving it off nonchalantly. Woody, who normally seemed to be in his own world, laughed his ass off while pounding the table in from of him—which oddly brought a smile to my face. Damn, there wasn’t an ugly guy in the bunch, each one hotter than the next. He was quiet. It was amusing to see this side of him. Jake joined in the laughter.

  “Fuck, I wish I were a fly on that wall.” Knowingly, he smiled at Woody. Maybe it was a private joke? I felt the need to explain further.

  “He actually frowned. I think he was upset. It was an honest mistake. Someone should tell him to lock the door next time. Simple solution,” I said.

  “Yeah, I bet he frowned… that had to be priceless. By the way, you two just made my day. Thanks for coming, girls,” he chuckled, grabbing a beer.

  “Who needs a drink?” Ender entered the room, slamming the door behind him. He threw an old pair of guitar strings in the garbage.

  “I do! What do you have?’ I chimed in, joining him at the bar. Cindy was still watching Woody with fascination. He looked up from the TV and winked at her. She blushed. Well, lookie here.

  Standing next to Ender, I could smell his natural scent. It was musky and spicy. Cindy bumped my elbow. I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t interested in Ender—just curious.

  “Dealer’s choice, Ender.” Cindy smiled warmly.

  “You got it, babe.” He walked behind the bar, grabbing a shaker. Whoa, he was getting all professional on us, twirling that shaker in his hand. Cute. A chill ran up my spine and the door opened abruptly. Abel. Instantly I concentrated on the walls: they were forest-green—dark, yet calming. The forest was always peaceful to me. I loved nature. I was an earthy person, though most people didn’t know it. Ender handed us our drinks—some kind of delish pink fruity concoction. I thanked him.

  “Ten minutes,” Abel blurted, then walked over to the chair with his iPhone. Wow, was he going to be rude and not talk to anyone? He still looked pissed. I couldn’t help but bristle.

  “Let’s have a seat, ladies,” Ender offered, motioning toward the couch. Then he squeezed himself between us, wrapping his thick biceps around our shoulders and pulling us closer to his insanely hot body. He sported a big toothy smile and winked at me. I moved forward, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. I was here for Abel and no one else.

  However, Abel was watching me closely, too. My lips suddenly went dry. I focused on his mouth while licking mine. What kind of pleasure could that mouth bring me? Lord, my lady bits were getting wet already. I took a sip of my cold cocktail, needing to do something with my mouth. Completely and utterly enraptured, I was his for the taking. I was so wrapped up in his smoking hotness, I could have fucking slapped myself. This was not good. There was no playing it cool with this bad boy. I tried, but his face did shit to me. Made me stupid. I hadn’t realized I was zoning in on his face, mentally raping him, until he said something and abruptly exited the room. Damn, what had he even said?

  Stunned, I watched the band dutifully file out behind their leader. Cindy was glaring at me again.

  “What?” I grit through my teeth.

  “Way to be cool, chick. Do you have any self-control where he’s concerned? Gia, you’re gonna fuck this up, kid. Reel it in!” She hugged me, then turned tail to follow the band out as well, with me in tow. I held on tightly. She was my lifeline. Only God knew what ridiculousness I would get myself into tonight. I needed to keep my big mouth shut and my emotions switched off, so I could enjoy the rest of the evening—while hopefully not making a fool of myself.

  Before moving to his kit, Woody came over to ask Cindy if she needed anything. It didn’t escape my notice that he was also subtly warning her to “stay put where he could see her.” Yeah, something was up with that. But at this point I didn’t have the wherewithal to even ask. I was just happy for her.

  He commanded the stage with the ease of a seasoned performer. To say I was pathologically obsessed would be putting it mildly. My eyes never left him: entranced, they watched as his muscles flexed with his every move. However, I did notice Woody’s gaze intermittently meet Cindy’s. There was fire there—not on par with what Abel and I had, but fire nevertheless.

  Fan-girls savored his deep throaty lyrics like syrup-soaked pancakes. And yet they were bittersweet, and they made my heart squeeze painfully. Normally, I wasn’t the jealous type: until now, I had never cared enough to be. But with Abel, I couldn’t help myself: those fan-girls made my temper flare with possessiveness. I wanted his attention, his smiles, and the taste of his lips all to myself. Standing to the left of the band backstage, I felt thankful for the dim lighting, allowing me to gawk at him all I wanted without everyone seeing.

  With his guitar strapped across his body, Abel looked to my side of the stage, his eyes meeting mine. His sparked with something akin to danger. A slow smile graced his beautiful face as he winked at me. Blindly, I grabbed my neck to thwart the fire that moved across it to my face. I was glad there was no one paying attention to this blatant display of heat. Anyone with eyes could see how viscerally he affected me. Grabbing the mic, he leaned forward, his eyes slowly taking in his legions of worshipers. The audience quilted the countryside and seemed to go on for miles. However, he had a way of making you feel as if you were the only person in the room. His gaze penetrated your deepest, darkest thoughts, leaving you naked. Bared. Stripped of all dignity …

  The melody for “Forever” started. The crowd went crazy with screams. I felt the same way. It was one of my favorite songs, and I was excited to see him perform it live.

  Cindy was, too. “Wow, they rock. Holy shit, look at him up on that stage. He’s a God, right?” she screamed over the music.

  “Yep, he certainly is! You see the looks he just gave me? The wink?” I yelled in her ear.

  “Um, I’m not blind, chick. Of course I saw. The sexual tension between you two is killing everyone around you. I say just get it over with already. You’re killing me, Smalls!” she blabbed, half-laughing, then turned back to watch the show.

  “How ya doin’ tonight, Colorado?” he asked the crowd. The cheers reached ear-shattering levels. The event was sold out for all four days. It was a beautiful night to be at an outdoor festival. A girl in the front row threw her black lace bra at him. Of course, he caught it, inspected it, and then scrunched it into his back pocket—but not before turning to smile at me. I wanted to slap his face, set fire to that bra—and kick the chick in the teeth who had tossed it to him. My possessiveness hit a homicidal pitch. I went to DEFCON 1, cocking an imaginary pistol in my mind. One of the roadies accidently bumped into me on his way over to Abel with a chair.

  “Excuse you!” I screamed. The fuck! I was ready to throw down. How in the world did I ever think I’d be able to handle Abel? How would I ever deal with his personality, his man-whoring, or these slutty fan-girls?

  The ligh
ts dimmed, a single muted spotlight illuminating him in all his epic glory as he took a seat.

  “Feel free to join in the lyrics, loves,” he urged the crowd, strumming his guitar in concert with the band, their instruments blending beautifully for the start of the balled.

  The memories of you and me

  Haunting me every minute of every day

  One more breath

  One more taste of my dirty girl

  You are my heroin, my addiction

  I want to mainline your love

  Until the reaper pulls me under

  Forever, forever, forever …

  Cold and empty is what remains

  A life without you

  I wanna get high on you

  It’s all right to pray to

  Your God because I’m coming for you

  Forever, forever, forever …

  I was fantasizing about taming this bad boy. I wanted to be the one he was singing to—singing about. I wanted those words to define what we had. The hairs on my arms stood stock-straight. My skin felt feverish, and my panties were dripping-wet. The tears I was holding at bay caused my throat to squeeze tightly. His words both pissed me off and had me deeply affected. The pain in his voice was hitting a nerve with everyone. He had that kind of disturbing effect on women. However, I needed to keep my eyes on the prize. He was my way out. I deserved this. I deserved him. I would stop at nothing, risk it all—my reputation, my sanity, and my heart. Feeling overcome with angst and passion, I turned to Cindy.

  “Chick, I, um … I could really use a drink,” I muttered. I was praying I would not tip my hand; otherwise, she would see how in over my head I already was for this rock God. I needed something to take the edge off, to calm my nerves and make me numb—and turn off the water-works in my panties. Just then, someone tapped me on the shoulder.