by Gina Whitney
“Make a right at the light, then take a left into the parking lot of Band Aid’s Showcase,” I instructed. She side-eyed me with a grin tugging on her lips. Fuck, she was beautiful.
So I laid it on the line. “Let me be real fucking clear so this convo never comes up again. When you’re with me, money is not your worry. If I’ve invited you on my tour, that means I’m not expecting you to pay for anything. I mean anything. If that makes you uncomfortable, get over it. You’re not taking my balls from me. Men take care of their women. You’re my woman,” I said emphatically—although I felt like beating my chest. Yep, the fucking caveman wanted this woman over his shoulder where he could protect her and take her any time he pleased.
“Wow, we’re going here? The last time I was here I was a senior in high school. A lifetime ago. Someone’s playing here you want to see?” she asked, as she parked the car and pulled the emergency brake. “Who does the great Abel Gunner want to see in this place? Come on, really,” she giggled.
“You’ve never googled me?” I asked, finding that unbelievable. That’s the first thing chicks always did.
“Nope, never.” She continued to laugh, finding humor in the situation. I leaned over the console, tickling her sides, which made her kick. We both laughed.
“If you had, you’d know this is where we got our first break,” I said proudly, finger-combing my hair before we went in. Then I climbed out, walking over to the driver’s side to open her door. She took my hand, and I guided her up and out onto her feet. She stood on her toes to reach my lips for a kiss. So many feelings were churning in the pit of my stomach—love being one of them. Her kiss was chaste, because the bouncer met us halfway to shake hands.
Wally had been with the bar since it opened. He was an ex-Hell’s Angel—bad, tatted, and one intimidating fucker. It was nostalgic being back here. The band always came back, paying it forward to other bands. We were still a group of down-to-fucking-earth dudes. I introduced Gia to him. They said their hellos as he escorted us to the table where Cindy and Woody were seated. It was the band’s official table with Lethal Abel’s name engraved on a silver plated tag and our signatures signed across the top. I escorted her with my hand laid possessively across her lower back. I wanted every fucker in this place to know we were together—that she was mine.
Leaning down to her ear, I whispered, “Surprise, Beauty.”
Woody pulled me into a man-hug. It wasn’t hard to miss the excitement in her smile, as she embraced Cindy fiercely. I was glad we were hanging with them tonight. She’d miss Cindy on the road, so I wanted her to spend extra time with her now. Cindy had given me her blessing, so long as I had promised to send her tickets and fly her out to meet us. Thank fuck. I didn’t want my Beauty getting homesick. In fact, I was so concerned about it, I had told Cindy I would speak to Gia’s parents, if it would help. She had emphatically stated, “Absolutely not,” saying her mother was a single parent and not much in the way of a mother, at that. I had disagreed at first, until she had explained a little bit about Gia’s past to me. After hearing what kind of home life Gia had had growing up, I wanted to protect her all the more. I decided I’d have to investigate the situation with her mother further.
“Thank you, baby,” she cooed, pulling me into the booth to take her proper seat on my lap. I leaned in, sticking my nose into her hair, inhaling deeply. Umm, she smelled so fucking good.
“Anything for you, Beauty,” I reassured her, reaching around to take full advantage of her lips. Her tongue fought for dominance, but quickly submitted to mine. Tasting her mouth was akin to bathing in a vat of peaches and fresh cream: it was fucking delicious.
“For fuck’s sake,” Woody broke in. “Now that you’ve properly tasted her tonsils, can we order?” He climbed into the booth next to Cindy, swinging his arm around her. She giggled, leaning into him.
“Yeah, what he said,” Cindy chimed in, motioning her thumb towards Woody. “Margaritas. Let’s get a pitcher. You guys handle the food. We’ll eat anything,” she announced, looking towards Gia, who nodded in agreement. This was too easy. These two were cool chicks.
“We don’t do margaritas. Men drink beer or liquor,” I declared, nodding towards Woody, who agreed readily. There was light Top-40 music playing in the background. The DJ was in a booth next to the stage. The owner, CJ, came over to us, pulling up a chair.
“Boys! How the hell are you? It’s been awhile.” He shook our hands. “Glad you’re here tonight. The band that’s booked didn’t show.” He grinned at us, pulling his black hair into a ponytail. Fuck. I knew what that meant—what he wanted us to do.
“So ya lookin’ for us to sort ya out?” Woody guessed. Exactly. The girls clapped happily, drawing the attention of CJ. He was a pervert. I knew it was only a matter of time before the girls had caught his eye. Normally, we all shared groupies. Didn’t give a fuck. He was thoughtful for a moment, as a slow creepy smile dawned on his face.
“You two are pretty, sexy little things, aren’t you?” He leaned over to Gia, who was still sitting on my lap.
When he moved to kiss her cheek, I blocked him. “Unless you want to lose your face, friend, I’d advise you not to put your lips on my girlfriend,” I said angrily. The air was sucked out of the room, and it seemed that everything came to a complete standstill. Woody looked at me, then at Cindy. Cindy looked at Gia, then at Woody. CJ’s eyebrows quirked in amusement. He sat back, lighting a cigarette.
“Is that so?” He blew the smoke out of his nose. Gia’s body went stiff in my lap. I curled my arm around her belly, pulling her tight against me.
“That’s so,” I smirked back.
He slammed his hand down on the table, shaking it. The girls jumped. I tightened my hold. Then Wood, CJ, and I started laughing heartily. I’d never publicly claimed anyone, ever, as my girlfriend—not even Morgana. So CJ realized when I staked my claim on Gia that I was in was in deep with her. Fuck. I was in deep. Real fucking deep. Balls-deeps. The girls eyed us warily.
“What. In .The. Fuck. Just. Happened?” Cindy asked—which only made us laugh even harder. I whispered to Beauty that I’d tell her later in private.
Cindy simpered. “Oh, it must be a balls thing. If you don’t have a pair of balls, you’re not supposed to get it, huh? Well, we fucking don’t.” She frowned. “Drinks anytime now would be delightful.” Gia agreed. CJ called the waitress over, ordering the girls a pitcher of Patron margaritas.
“Seriously, we’ll help you out tonight, CJ. Maybe sing a few songs,” I said, looking to Woody to see if he was onboard with the idea.
“As long as I’m pissed, fucked, and fed, I’ll agree to anything,” he said, as Cindy pulled his hair, bringing him to her for a kiss. His sudden shortness of breath told me she was most likely playing with his dick under the table. I smiled. Good for him. I was happy for him. He scared most girls off with his constant cursing and Irish lilt. Cindy was enough of a badass chick to balance him out nicely. We ordered dinner for the girls as they drank the pitcher of margaritas. Then the giggling started.
“They’re pissed,” Wood said, smiling and pulling Cindy in for a heated kiss. He grabbed her tits, massaging them. She moaned loudly.
“Ahem. Don’t mind us. Go right ahead. We’ll eat and drink around you,” my Beauty teased, smiling brightly. Damn, that smile of hers would be the death of me. I could refuse her nothing when she smiled at me like that. The gleam in her eyes added something extra. I pushed my dick into her ass, letting her know what I was thinking. She ground back, answering me. I bit into her shoulder, eliciting a sigh. I needed her under me in the next hour, or I would explode in public, embarrassing myself.
“Wood!” I called out, watching CJ move to the stage mic. He was going to introduce us. I decided to head to the bar for a quick shot to give my dick a chance to go down before I went on. He knew. He had the same fucking problem. He was readjusting himself like a madman. Fuck, yeah.
“Two shots of Jack. Two Heinekens, please,” I ordered from
the young bartender. The starry-eyed kid was white as a ghost when we walked up to that bar. It made me smile. I’d been doing a lot of that lately. I could only attribute that to the way I was feeling about a certain Beauty in my life. I had been this kid’s age once, and because of that I pulled out my wallet, throwing two one-hundred dollar bills down on the bar. When the kid returned, I made his night by telling him to keep the change. He asked if we’d agree to take a selfie with him, which we were happy to do. CJ walked up, all sorts of pissed-off at the kid for fanning over us. He wanted this place to be the one place where we could hang out as regular dudes. No rock stars with a huge fan following here, just a couple of regular guys. Which suited us just fine. Since going platinum, we almost always had security around us, handling crowds and overzealous fans. For just one night, it was amazing to be able to fly under the radar. I only hoped no one would upload a picture or video broadcasting our whereabouts. Dave would have a meltdown if he found out, because we had not run this little outing tonight by him. Fuck it. I was my own man.
Two shots were placed in front of us. “Cheers, mate,” Woody said, clinking my glass. Then those two shots went down our throats, followed by beer. CJ waved us over to the stage. Gia blew a lip-glossed kiss at me, waving excitedly. Cindy was less pronounced, opting for a wink at Wood. I thanked CJ for allowing us to come back. We considered him and his place family. I adjusted the microphone to meet my height. Woody took a seat at the house drum set, counting out his beats.
“Good fucking evening, fine people of Colorado,” I said, grabbing the guitar from CJ—the one he kept on hand for my impromptu visits. “Thank you for letting me grace this great stage again. It’s been way too long.” I tuned my guitar. The crowd whistled and cheered. The kid bartender’s iPhone kept flashing.
A pixie-haired fan-girl yelled out, “You can grace my stage privately anytime, Abel.” She hooted. Gia’s face dropped, as Cindy pawed her to keep her in the booth. Fuck. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“Anyways, tell me what you want to hear. As you can see, it’s just me and Wood. We’ll try our best to leave it all on stage.” The crowd hooted and fist-pumped.
“Billy Joel’s ‘Strangers!’ “ some bald guy yelled out. The crowd pelted him with French fries and wadded-up napkins. Woody and I laughed. The guy wasn’t a local. Anyone from town knew we didn’t cover Joel.
“‘Slipknot,’ Snuff,’ “ some yahoo shouted. “I heard you guys in Toronto. You all were fucking amazing.” The crowd clapped, agreeing with the local yahoo. Luckily, that number was mostly guitar.
“Ding, ding, ding. We got a winner. It just so happens we know that song,” I replied, laughing as Wood counted out “3 2 1 …” My fingers floated, plucking the chords of one of my favorite songs.
I sang my song, owning the words. Funny, I felt those words meant something to me, especially with the rocky start Beauty and I had had. She was too innocent for me. I stared into her eyes. I jumped off the stage, walking over to her, my fingers pulling at the strings until I felt the pain in my fingertips. I needed to feel something real.
Tears ran down her face. She was moved by the song, by my performance. Chicks loved being sang to. It was a deeply lyrical song. I didn’t mean to make her cry. My heart hurt at the sight of those tears, and I didn’t want to be the reason for them. I wanted to be the reason she smiled, she danced, she laughed, she came, and she loved. But these feelings were getting so intense, I suddenly felt in need of escape. My brain wasn’t used to this much emotion. I craved drugs, something to bring me down, numb me, even me out. I couldn’t let her see that, though. She’d think I was a loser. I wasn’t a loser. I just needed help coping sometimes. Everybody needed help sometimes. I needed coke. Maybe I could text Jake?
I returned to the stage, grabbing the fresh beers the kid had left for us. I handed Woody his. I looked to Cindy, asking with my eyes if Gia was okay. She gave me the thumbs-up sign. Great.
Then CJ started charging admission at the door, which meant the word was out we were here. He’d make a few dollars tonight. And that was cool with me. He’d never taken any money we had offered him for taking a chance with us. So we owed him. We sang “Dark Horse” by Katy Perry. Well, our own version of it. Cindy and Gia were the first two on the dance floor. Once they broke that seal, others followed. The place got crowded and it got harder to keep an eye on my Gia. We finished our set, signed a few autographs, and moved towards our table. CJ roped it off. He stationed bouncers around the perimeter as a precaution. I thanked him for his hospitality as always and asked him for the key to his office. He threw it to me. I turned to Woody, letting him know I’d be busy for a little while, so he wouldn’t leave without us.
“Beauty,” I said, as I came up behind her and kissed her neck. “Come.” Wally escorted us safely to CJ’s office door. I gave him a few hundred to show my appreciation. I unlocked the door, looking all around for photogs before pulling her inside.
“Where are we going? What about Wood and Cin?” she asked. Was she serious? I could not give a fuck about Wood and Cin. I needed to be buried deep inside her tight pussy, or else my balls were going to explode.
“Beauty, I need you right now. I need you, like, fucking yesterday. I need to taste you. Then I need to pound you.”
I pulled her deeper into the office, still kissing her neck. “Then I need to fuck you again.” I pulled her shirt up and over her head. The bra came next. Pulling her nipple into my mouth, I sucked, swirling my tongue around her areola, licking and sucking like a man starved. And I was starved. I hadn’t been inside her since last night. I had myself an addiction problem with Beauty: I was beautifully addicted to her. Losing myself in her tits, I squatted down, stripping off her jeans—first one leg, then the other.
“Lean against the wall,” I demanded, pushing her flat against it. I threw her leg over my shoulder, giving me prime access to her pussy. Bella. Fucking work of pussy art. I extended my neck, delving in face-first, then added a finger. I wouldn’t be satisfied until she was screaming. I exposed her clitoral hood, getting a good suck on her clit. She screamed, pushing my face away. What the fuck?
‘Fuck. Shit. Motherfucker. It’s too sensitive. I’m gonna die if you touch it,” she panted, blocking me from getting at it. I turned, eyeing the desk, then looked back at her.
“What? What’s over there?” She looked in that direction, trying to peek over the desk.
“Your life preserver is over there.” I pointed towards it. “You’re going to bend the fuck over the desk and hold on like your life depends on it,” I rumbled. I had already started taking off my clothes. She stood there with her jaw on the floor. So I opted to help her along. Over my shoulder she went, kicking and screaming.
“Put me down right now, you fucking-cave-dweller! What’s gotten into you?” She punched my back. I righted her onto her belly on top of the desk. “Don’t fucking move,” I threatened. I started opening the drawers of CJ’s desk. Surely he had something I could use … Fuck, yeah. I found us some trailer ties. They would do.
“Use what?” She looked up. “Who the fuck are you talking to?” Oh shit, I hadn’t realized I was talking out loud. I was in such a state, I considered myself rabid. I had to be. The smell of her pussy juice on my face was wafting into my nose, causing my cock to pulse in rhythm with my heart. That was a first.
I tied each of her arms to one leg of the desk. Then I wondered if she would behave. Or did I need to tie her legs, too?
“Are you going to be good, Beauty?” I asked. She turned to face me.
“Are you serious right now? What could I possibly do? Get on with it, already,” she grinned. My little minx liked being tied up. Nice. I left her legs spread, but untied. Fisting my weeping cock, I thumbed the semen over the piercings, getting it nice and lubed. I sucked the residue off my fingers when I was done. I loved to come. And I loved tasting my own come. Nothing wrong with that, as far as I was concerned.
“I’m serious as dick cancer,” I ans
wered, preparing to take the plunge. I nudged her opening, smearing my semen and her come around her hole, and leaning in a bit to push the tip of my head in. Christ. Her pussy sucked the head of my cock, swallowing it. With fast stabbing movements, I ravaged her hole with just half my cock. Her cries permeated the air, along with her pussy scent.
“You like that, Beauty?” I growled. “You want my whole cock in you, don’t you? Tell me,” I gritted through my teeth.
She was fighting for breath. “Yes, I want that gorgeous girthy fucking cock to rip me open.” She couldn’t even get the last words out of her naughty mouth before I fell inside her, going as deep as I could without losing my balls. Fuck, if I could fit those in there too, I would.
“Fuck. You … fucking … own … me,” I jabbered, gripping her hips and lifting them slightly. Over and over again, I took her hard, bouncing off her ass. Animal grunts and pants filled the room. She came so hard her pussy cut the blood flow to my dick. I pumped a few more times for good measure, to make sure I gave her every last drop of my come. I leaned over her limp body, resting a minute. I kissed the shell of her ear, sucking on her dangling earring.
“Fuck, Abel. You’re crushing my lungs. I can barely breathe, babe,” she gasped. I stood up, fingering my hair out of my eyes. I was a mess—a sweaty pig of a mess. I untied the ropes and helped her to a sitting position.
“Water?” I offered.
“Please.”
I grabbed a paper cup, filling it up with bottled water from the machine. It was nice and cold. I handed it to her. She drank it down in one shot, holding the cup up to me for a refill. I gave her another cupful. She drank that down, too.
“Holy fuck. I feel like I’ve been hit with an IED. I don’t think I could walk out of here. Now that gives you reason to be a caveman. I may need the day off tomorrow, an IV drip, and pain killers. What’s gotten into you?” she asked, trying to pick her clothes up off the floor. I gathered them for her and helped her dress. I had taken her so hard, I felt guilty.