So the atmosphere was ripe when the woman named Misti—who was not his mom’s age but much older than Brad (he guessed somewhere in her thirties)—got in the passenger side of his car. Before starting the engine, he asked her where she lived so he could head in the right direction.
He turned on the radio and a Godsmack tune was playing on the station. He turned the volume down, knowing most people could barely tolerate hard rock and heavy metal, but she said, “Oh, I love these guys.”
He grinned. “You can turn it back up if you want.”
“That’s okay.” She leaned her head back against the seat. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I was at that jewelry party of your mom’s in February.”
Brad shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t remember. There were a lot of people there for that.”
“Yeah.” She looked out the rolled-down window. “You have air conditioning?”
He laughed. “You’re lookin’ at it.”
She chuckled and they were quiet for a few moments. “I noticed you, though.”
Brad wasn’t sure about the vibes he was getting from his mom’s friend, but he looked back at her. She might have been older, but she was pretty. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said, “What?”
“I noticed you, Brad. You’re a kid, sure, but you are one good-lookin’ guy. I think you’d just started dating that girl at the time, and your mom would come into work, saying she thought this girl was the one for you…until she told us you’d broken up with her.”
He was feeling a little pissed that his mom felt the need to chat about his love life as though she were a gossip magazine. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s…fine. I just don’t want to talk about it.”
She was quiet for a few minutes, and the radio station started playing a Foo Fighters song. “I don’t want you to talk about it either. I just wondered if you’d be interested in hearing an offer.”
“An offer?”
“Are you seeing anyone right now?”
Holy shit. His instincts were right. She was hitting on him. He was torn. Part of him wanted to continue to mope and feel sorry for himself, but the rest of him really wanted to feel a woman’s body up next to his. It had been way too long. No, he didn’t want anything emotional. He wasn’t ready for that. But if this woman was offering a no-strings-attached fuck, he thought maybe he could be on board with that. Still, he didn’t want to seem too eager, in case he was misreading her. “Why?”
“I think you might be a little fun, Bradley Payne.” He took a deep breath but said nothing. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. She turned the radio down a little more and asked, “How old are you, Brad?”
Fuck. She was honestly considering him, and he couldn’t believe that he was giving it serious thought as well. He couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. This much older woman wanted to make sure she wouldn’t be convicted of statutory rape. Well, he’d turned nineteen in March. She had nothing to worry about. “Old enough.”
She chuckled and he felt her fingers on his neck. “Wrong answer. How old are you?”
He rolled his eyes even though it was for no one’s benefit. “Nineteen.”
“Good.” She reached over and turned the radio back up, resting her head on the back of the seat again, and Brad figured that was that. Maybe she’d hoped he was younger or maybe she decided she needed someone older. He’d never know. That was too bad, because he thought he might have taken her up on her offer.
When they got to her neighborhood, she told him the streets to turn down until he got to her apartment. “You wanna come in for a little bit?”
Maybe she wanted to play after all. “Yeah, sure.”
Her apartment was on the second floor and she tripped once, giggling, so Brad held her arm to steady her. Maybe she was way too trashed to do anything. But when they got to her door, she pulled out her keys and she pulled him in by the hand. He started to look around once she had the light on so he could make conversation about something, but she opened her palm and slammed it into his chest, pushing him into the door. Before he could even catch up, her hands were in his hair, her tongue in his mouth. He couldn’t quite tell what she’d been drinking, but it was strong. It wasn’t beer or wine—it was something stronger. His cock started to perk up, but he tried to will it down. This woman was wasted, and he hadn’t realized it at first. He couldn’t fuck her right now, older woman or not.
She stopped kissing him, though, and took a couple of steps back. “Sorry, pretty aggressive.” She grabbed his hand and led him toward the kitchen. “Can’t help it, Bradley. I’ve had some pretty nasty thoughts about you.” She turned on the kitchen light. “Want a drink?”
He was torn. If he had a drink, he wouldn’t be able to go anywhere. He had work in the morning too, but it was late morning—ten. But it had been long, way too long, since he’d been inside a woman. Actually, that wasn’t true. He’d had sex with girls. He’d never been with someone as old as Misti. He didn’t think it would matter, but he was ready. He needed to get laid in the worst way. So he said, “Sure. What have you got?”
She turned around and gave him a wicked grin. “Well, if you promise not to tell your mom, I have beer and whiskey. Take your pick.”
He could just imagine that conversation. “Yeah, mom, I fucked your coworker and drank some beer with her too.” He grinned. He found it funny that she was more worried about his drinking than she was worried about having sex with her coworker’s son. Of course, he supposed, underage drinking was illegal. Having sex with him wasn’t. “Why the hell would I tell my mom?”
“I was hoping you’d say that, because I think me and you can have one hell of a party.” She opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. She opened another cabinet and set two glasses on the counter. “Would you grab a couple of ice cubes out of the freezer there?” He turned and opened the top door to the refrigerator, fetching out a handful of ice. When he reached her, she took his hand and held it over first one glass and tilted it and then the other, making sure she’d dropped all the ice in the glasses. Then she poured some whiskey over the ice. She handed one to him and kept one herself. It was merely a swallow. Brad took the glass and poured it down. No sense taking his time. Whiskey wasn’t one of his favorite flavors, so getting it down was good enough.
She smiled and raised her eyebrows, then followed suit, slamming the liquor down.
Brad had barely set his glass back on the counter before she mauled him. As he tried to get his bearings, his first thought was to wonder why girls—young women his age—had never attacked him like that, but the thought was gone as his entire body responded to her assault. He was hard in seconds, something he might have found amusing because Misti was aggressive to the extreme. He probably should have been scared.
It happened too fast for him to be afraid, though. She had his cock out of his pants in short order, and before he knew it, she had him sitting in one of the chairs in the kitchen and was ready to jump on him. “Hold on a sec. You got a condom?”
“I’m on the pill. I can’t get pregnant.”
He felt like a fucking idiot and was surprised there was any rational thought left in his head. Still, he said, “That’s not the only reason you use one.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you have one?”
“I might.” He didn’t remember the last time he’d actually needed one, but he was sure he had a couple in there. He’d wanted to be prepared in case Leah decided she was ready. He felt a moment of sadness which steeled his resolve, and he lifted his right cheek to pull out his wallet. Yep. Pay dirt. He barely had it out when Misti snatched it out of his fingers and ripped the package open. She maneuvered it over his cock and then slid him inside her before he could even register what was happening. He couldn’t even remember her taking her jeans and panties off.
But, God, did she feel incredible. He knew he had to prolong climax as
long as possible and he wasn’t sure how, because he hadn’t felt this good in a long time. His eyes were closed and he tried to focus on everything except the insane sensations below. He couldn’t even tell if she was close. She leaned back and stuck two fingers between them and started rubbing herself. In no time, she was crying out, clenching against his dick, and then he knew it was safe to let himself go.
It felt like his brains were flying out of his cock. He realized his fingers were pressed into her back as he got his bearings again. His breathing started to slow. She grinned and sat up, and it sent a shiver clear through to his balls. “Rest up, big fella, because I’m not done with you.”
He didn’t know if he should run out of there, afraid for his life, or get down on his knees and say a prayer of thanks.
But he stayed.
Chapter Six
THE GUYS IN the band were jealous when they found out Brad was boning an older woman who was hornier than hell. He felt more confident sexually than he ever had, and she gave him suggestions once in a while. She was sweet about it, but he could take a hint, and he felt like his time with her was making him a better lover.
He finally got his first tattoos that summer—he started with a half sleeve down his right arm. That was pretty expensive, so after that he just had some of his song lyrics tattooed on his left shoulder. Then he started banking his money, saving up for things for the band. His mom was nice enough to let him continue living with her. He knew why, though. It was a huge two-story, four-bedroom house that would have felt too empty. She didn’t charge him rent, either, but Brad made sure he continued doing chores so he kind of earned his keep.
And he lined up a few gigs for the band. He wasn’t able to schedule as many as he would have liked and all but one were out of town, but it gave them some practice in front of an audience, and the experience was invaluable. Playing onstage was so different from fucking around in his garage. Even when they’d played entire sets together, it was nothing like doing it live. They couldn’t simply stop when something wasn’t right. They had to keep going, push through the mistakes, recover, go on. And the energy was exhilarating. Brad didn’t understand why Ethan felt the need to get stoned before going onstage. His friend was missing some of the best highs he could imagine. They also met some great bands to network with.
Brad felt like he was laying solid groundwork for the future. He imagined these bands would help his own band go further in the future. He’d already landed two gigs thanks to other bands. The band he felt the most solid connection to was a band out of Denver called Last Five Seconds. They were good guys with a hardcore sound, and Brad was surprised they hadn’t made it already. All he could figure was that they just hadn’t been heard by the right people.
Ethan didn’t get to know any of the bands, though, even when they partied together, because the guy was taking his chemical dependency to new levels. Brad started to worry and considered talking to June about it, but he knew that would only make Ethan worse. He knew, because they’d been there before. The previous summer had been almost as bad, but when school started, Ethan managed to keep his partying confined to weekends only. Brad hoped having to attend college in the fall would have the same effect. In the meantime, he did his best to keep Ethan upright and away from the worst stuff. He now regretted the time last fall he and his friend had tried meth together, because it was something Ethan played with now and again. Brad never thought there would be a day he’d be glad to see his friend taking heroin, but it was better than meth and crack. Ethan seemed to prefer the drugs that made him mellow, anyway, and meth didn’t work that way.
By August, he felt like he was completely over Leah. Part of him would always care about her, but he no longer felt sad. He was having the time of his life, because Misti only wanted him for sex. She didn’t want a relationship. That opened the door to occasional other girls who just wanted a little fun with a guy who could sling an axe. He finally discovered the secret—sex, lots of it, was the cure for a broken heart. Did he feel a little empty? Yeah, but he was willing to pay the price. As one of Bullet’s frontmen, the confidence he was gaining by becoming a master in the bedroom was priceless.
He still wasn’t cocky, though. That wasn’t his bag. It was a quiet confidence. He had no need to get in people’s faces about how good he felt about himself. There was no need. But it was an attitude that drove him forward, and he saw results in his day-to-day life. More women approached him than ever had before, many of them older (but not to the extreme like Misti), and he got a large raise at work, where he was now employed full time. His newfound confidence and what he almost considered luck made him more determined than ever to make his band work. Bullet was going to make it big if it was the last thing he’d ever do.
* * *
Late August, Ethan and Zane left for school. Brad felt a little discouraged, but his friends had promised to return home when needed. Brad had gigs lined up in September, October, and November, and he’d even managed to land two during their Christmas break. The guys promised to practice at school, especially right before shows, and they’d try to come home occasionally to get together to practice and maybe even try on some new stuff. They’d find a way to make it work, and Brad hoped that maybe before next summer, they’d have a record contract, and then Ethan and Zane’s families would see that they had a future in music.
Fall seemed to come quickly, faster than it ever had when he’d been in school, and—as promised—Zane and Ethan showed up for their gigs in spite of being in school. The nice thing was they were making a little cash, and Brad figured that had to be an incentive as well. He’d been watching other bands make money with merch tables, so he planned to invest in t-shirts (now that he’d made a logo), stickers, and other stuff, and he hoped they could record an EP in the spring. First, though, more amps. Living at home and working full-time made it easy to save up and buy things for the band. When he wasn’t working, he was doing something band related. He was almost obsessed, but he was driven. He was determined to make it work. He was not going to be a fucking lube tech his entire life.
Girls weren’t as important, either. Yeah, he was getting laid on a regular basis now, but he’d managed to keep his heart from getting snagged. His goal wasn’t to be a heartbreaker either, so he tried to be upfront with girls, letting them know he wasn’t ready for a relationship. Most of them seemed okay with it, and those who weren’t, he didn’t pursue at all, because he didn’t want to hurt anyone. He’d been there himself and didn’t want to do it to someone else.
He and Misti fizzled out sometime early October. She got back together with an old boyfriend and told Brad she was sorry for letting him down. He tried to assure her that he was okay, but she acted nervous that now he’d go tell his mother. Part of him felt relieved because it was often awkward. On occasion, though, she’d still buy him liquor if he wanted it, and that, he supposed, was a great payoff from the relationship.
He knew he’d gotten more out of it, though, and if he hadn’t felt like it would make him look stupid, he would have profusely thanked Misti.
At Thanksgiving, Ethan and Zane hung out for several days before heading back to college. Ethan started talking about some girl he’d met at school, and Brad worried at first. He was angry that he felt that way, because part of him was anxious that a girl was going to take his best friend away from him, make his friend no longer interested in making music or even coming home. But the more he, Ethan, and Zane talked, the more he realized that this girl was just a friend…or at least Ethan played it off that way.
“Anyway, she keeps pestering me about seeing the band, so I’m gonna see if she wants to come home with us next weekend.”
Zane said, “Dude, we’re coming home next weekend? You know it’s finals week after that, right?”
Ethan sneered. “Like you give a shit?”
Zane started laughing. “Right. But if I’m here practicing and partying with you guys, my parents are gonna know I’m not studying my ass off fo
r finals.”
“So? Do you really care?”
Zane shrugged. “No, but I feel like I should since they’re spending money on it.”
“You study enough while you’re there. You’re getting Cs, right?”
“Mostly.”
Brad shook his head. “No problem if you guys want to wait till after finals. I hear college tests are a bitch.”
Ethan smiled. “Like I give a shit. Yeah, so, my grandpa’s paying for it. I told him I didn’t want to go, but that if he was going to make me do it, fine. I’d do it. I’m showing up for classes, and I’m trying to study, but damned if it’s gonna ruin a good weekend.”
“Whatever. I’m here no matter what.”
“So, like I was saying, I’m gonna see if Valerie wants to come home with us next weekend. I think you’d like her. She’s a total metalhead, but she doesn’t look like it at all. Well, in all fairness, she was able to pull it off when we went to a concert earlier this month. She’s a nice girl, though. There aren’t many of us there, if you catch my drift, so she’s cool.”
“You still want to practice then?”
“Yeah…she wants to see us play, so we should.”
“Works for me.” Brad had no idea that meeting Ethan’s new friend would change the entire course of the rest of his life.
* * *
The first weekend of December arrived, and, with it, snow and cold. Brad was finally feeling like a real man, not just a kid trapped in a man’s body. It had been a long, hard year, but he’d made the transition. He felt ready for anything. He wanted to take on the world. He knew he simply had to hold out for a few more months and then he and Bullet could make a real go of it. He knew living in this little burg wasn’t helping. They needed to get out where there were more people. Sure, they could post a few YouTube videos, but there was nothing like a live audience. He knew that would be their key to success.
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