See You at the Show

by Michelle Betham

  Mark looked at him, swinging his feet down from the table and leaning forward. “We don’t need the fucking money, Jack.”

  “We always need the money, Mark. Come on, like Stevie says, it’s one night. And think of the amount of eye candy there’s going to be with all those eighteen year old girls. I’m gonna be like a kid in a fucking sweet shop!”

  Stevie stared at him. “You’re disgusting sometimes, do you know that?”

  “Me?” Jack laughed. “Have you seen this?”

  “Seen what? Jack, what the fuck are you watching?”

  He sat back and continued to look at the camera screen, a lit cigarette dangling from his bottom lip. Stevie leant forward and grabbed the camera from his hands, flicking the cigarette out of his mouth as she sat back down.

  “And you shouldn’t be smoking that in here when Ava’s about.” She turned the camera round and looked at the screen. “Jesus, Jack.”

  “You could be in movies, Stevie,” Jack smirked, swinging his feet up onto the table that separated them.

  “You’re a fucking bastard, Warner,” Stevie said, knocking his feet off the table in one swift movement.

  “They have curtains round the beds in here for a reason y’ know.” Jack put his feet back up. “You don’t want to be seen, close ‘em. But you can keep those incredible legs of yours wide open.”

  She looked at him, poking her tongue out. Jack Warner was like the annoying brother you couldn’t shake off but loved anyway. He wound her up more than anyone but she could take it. He never meant any harm. He was just Jack.

  Mark moved closer to her, looking at the screen.

  “Hey, some of my best work that,” he said, a smile appearing on his tired but still incredibly handsome face as he watched the scene play out. Because what Jack had caught on camera was Mark and Stevie having sex on the tour bus – no holds barred, everything out there sex. “Christ, watching that’s making me horny again. How about a replay, baby?”

  “At least you get to go inside,” Jack said, lighting up another cigarette. “The rest of us have to go it alone.”

  “Exactly who has seen this?” Stevie asked.

  “Everyone but Billy. We didn’t think his missus would go for it. And when did you get all shy? You’ve given us all a floor show before.”

  “I was drunk, Jack. And I wasn’t having sex in public, I was lap dancing. It was Mark’s birthday. He deserved a special present.”

  “And we all got the benefit.”

  She threw the camera back at Jack and turned to Mark, smiling at him. “We look quite good together, don’t we?”

  “We look freakin’ amazing.”

  She leaned forward and gently kissed his mouth, the cigarette and beer-tainted taste of him sending her head spinning again as his hand slid under her t-shirt, gently resting in the small of her back as he kissed her harder.

  This was what Mark needed, he needed a release, he needed his Scandinavian girl to take away the stress that this tour was putting on him. He loved every second of it; it was his world after all, up there on stage was where he belonged, but he needed Stevie more and more at times like this, when he couldn’t think straight, when he felt it all starting to become too much. She was the only one who took him to a good place. Nobody else could do that, nobody else could rein him in and calm him down; nobody else could make him feel in control, even when he was losing it. Nobody could do that. Not like Stevie could.

  He pulled her over so she sat astride him, their mouths still joined in a deep, slow kiss as he let his hand wander higher, touching her warm, soft skin. She began to push herself against him and it was obvious they were going to have to move pretty soon, although he’d quite happily fuck her right there and he couldn’t care who saw, he needed her that badly.

  “We need to go,” she whispered, feeling him hard underneath her, and more than aware that Jack was still watching them. With a video camera in his hand.

  “Come on then, beautiful,” Mark said, taking her hand and leading her up to the beds at the back of the bus. “Let’s go get ourselves some privacy.”

  “No such thing in this place,” Jack shouted after them. “Just keep the curtains closed this time, unless you want a sequel to this baby here.”

  Stevie smacked him round the head as she walked past him.

  “Get the camera,” Mark said.

  “What?”

  “Get the camera, come on. Let’s make a movie of our own.”

  She smiled. Why not? She was just in the mood, and if it kept Mark calm and relaxed then all the better. It made her life easier.

  “Give it here, Warner.” She grabbed the camera out of his hands.

  “Hey, what you doing?”

  “We’re going into self-production,” she smiled, winking at him as Mark dragged her away.

  Johnny squeezed past them, catching her eye as he sat down next to Billy, and Stevie couldn’t help noticing how tired he looked. She hadn’t spent half as much time with him as she should have done and she missed that. She missed their chats, their nights in at his flat with just the music and each other. She was too busy trying to keep Mark in line right now to think about that though, and Johnny would understand.

  “Mark, where are we going? The beds are over there.”

  “There’s not enough room on those things.” He pulled her into the separate sitting-room area near the back of the bus, kicking the door shut, wasting no time as he pulled off his t-shirt to expose a body that sent most women crazy. And Stevie was no exception. She just knew how to keep it in check in front of him.

  “I can’t do this on my own, Stevie,” he said, pulling her closer.

  “Oh, you can, Mark. I’ve seen you plenty of times.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d rather have you with me now. You’re making me crazy.” His fingers stroked her waist, pushing down her low slung denim shorts to touch her hips, and she closed her eyes as he kissed her neck, his lips brushing so lightly over her skin it was sending tiny shivers right through her. “Strip for me, baby. Take it all off, and strip for me.”

  She smiled, running her fingers lightly over his rough jaw line. “Only if you promise me one thing.”

  “What?”

  “No groupies after the gig, Mark. Come back to me.”

  The thought of being in Manchester again was making her feel slightly uneasy, for reasons she had to keep to herself. Anyone else knowing, anything that could damage the life she had now, well, she just didn’t want to risk it. She couldn’t. And it wasn’t often that Stevie Stone felt like this but being back in a city where a lot of things had happened, things she didn’t really want to think about; a city where guilt hung over her, it was making her feel unsettled. So she needed him. She needed to be with him. And if that was selfish then so be it. She never asked him for anything, but while they were here, in this city full of memories and hidden secrets, Stevie needed Mark. Probably more than she cared to admit.

  She looked at him, into those deep, dark eyes and she knew that if he chose not to do this for her then she was going to be lost, because Johnny wouldn’t do. He wouldn’t help. She only wanted Mark.

  “Come back to me and I’ll give you all those things any wide eyed groupie could possibly give you, and a whole lot more.”

  He smiled that famous Cassidy smile, running his fingers along her hipbones as he kissed her slowly, his tongue touching hers as she pressed up against him.

  “Think of me when you’re on that stage,” she whispered, feeling that familiar rush flood through her as it always did when she was about to be with him. “Think of me, naked, straight out of the shower...naked and wet, waiting for you. You won’t need anyone else, Mark. I promise you that.”

  “Jesus, you know how to reel a guy in.”

  “How do you think I got you, Cassidy?”

  “Then I’m coming home, baby.”

  “Good,” she smiled, backing away from him slightly, taking the camera out of his hand and pushing him back onto the sofa. �
�You want a ride, you’ve got one, Mr Rock Star.”

  She placed the camera down where she hoped it would catch most of the action and turned to switch on the music system behind her. The sound of Black Rock Diamond’s new album filled the small space, and as Mark’s distinctive voice came crashing out of the speakers she started to give him exactly what he wanted. A slow, sexy, verging-on-the-dirty strip, just for him. And the camera.

  His eyes never left her as she took it all off like a professional, but this wasn’t totally alien territory to her. She’d had to pay her way through college with other jobs when the promotions work and modelling hadn’t been paying enough, so she knew exactly what she was doing, and she knew how to make men want her within seconds. It was easy for her. She called it a talent.

  Totally naked, she stood in front of him, touching herself slowly, running her hands over her own body, teasing him to the point where he was almost crying out for her but making him wait was something she loved to do. It put her in control, made him have to wait for something, and Mark Cassidy was never used to waiting.

  “Jesus, Stevie, come on. You’re killing me here.”

  She leaned forward, in true porn star style, legs apart and completely straight, as she unzipped his jeans and took him in her hands.

  “Looks like my rock star is rock hard,” she smiled, running her fingers lightly up and down him. He threw his head back and groaned.

  “If you don’t fucking sit on me now, Stevie, this is gonna be over before we’ve done anything because I am so close, baby. So fucking close.”

  “You want me now?”

  “I want you right now. Jesus…”

  She slowly slid down onto him, sitting astride him, taking him in her hand once again as she guided him inside of her, and it was a feeling she craved. Mark Cassidy inside her. He felt right, he felt warm and comfortable and right. He fitted her perfectly.

  She arched her back as he held her by the hips, pushing her down onto him as he pushed deeper and she cried out loud, she had to, she couldn’t help it. He did this to her, he made her not care; he made her not worry who was watching or listening. When they were together it was only the two of them that mattered and that was ok with her.

  It took just minutes for the inevitable climax to hit, both of them reaching it together, crying out loud and not caring who heard, and when it was over, like he always did with her, he stayed inside for a few seconds longer as he caught his breath.

  “We have got to make videos of us fucking more often,” he said, still holding onto her hips.

  She stretched out, her arms high above her head, and Mark groaned again.

  “You have got the most incredible tits. I could look at them for hours.”

  “Just look?” she asked, smiling at him, knowing exactly what she was doing. She could play Mark Cassidy so well, he was easy.

  He reached out and touched her breasts, gently running his fingers over them and she moaned quietly. Yeah, she could play him, but it was always to her advantage.

  “No. I could never just look,” he whispered, moving his mouth closer to hers, their eyes locking together.

  She kissed him slowly, running her tongue over the roof of his mouth, behind his teeth, wanting one last taste of him before she got up. “You still coming back to me then?”

  He nodded, reluctant to let her go for some reason. Mark Cassidy didn’t do needy but he needed her. He needed Stevie Stone.

  “I’m coming back to you, baby.”

  “My rock star boyfriend,” she smiled, stroking his face as he looked at her, those dark eyes boring into her. Were things changing between them? Sometimes it felt like they were. Did she want them to? She didn’t know. She didn’t really want to think about it.

  She climbed off him, switching off the video camera and turning the music down, aware that his eyes were still on her.

  “Is something happening here, Stevie?” He came up behind her, slipping his arms around her, and she leaned back against him, closing her eyes for a second, just letting him hold her, something she didn’t do often enough and she didn’t know why because it felt good.

  She turned round and smiled at him. “No, Mark. Nothing’s happening.”

  So why did that make him feel something he couldn’t explain? He watched her pull her clothes back on, leaning against the wall, folding his arms.

  “You coming?” she asked, running her fingers through her hair, shaking it out.

  “Give me a minute. I could do with a smoke and I don’t want to do it in front of Ava.”

  She smiled again, kissing him gently. “Is that Mark Cassidy showing his sensitive side?”

  “Like hell.” He pulled her against him, his hand resting on her arse.

  “Good. Things are crazy enough around here without you going soft on me.”

  “Mark Cassidy ain’t ever going soft, honey. In any way.”

  “Ok, baby.” She kissed him again, suddenly wanting to stay right where she was but something in the back of her mind was telling her to walk away from this. Now. So she pulled away slowly, leaving his arms, walking out of the room without looking back at him.

  He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes, pushing a hand through his hair. What she did to him, he couldn’t explain. He never over-analysed anything, never questioned his feelings, but wasn’t that just what he was doing now? There was something going on in his head that he wasn’t sure he could control anymore. And it was all down to Stevie Stone.

  ***

  “Is that out of your system now then?” Johnny asked as Stevie threw herself down opposite him. She ignored him. “What Mark Cassidy wants, Mark Cassidy gets, huh?”

  She looked at him. He was staring out of the bus window as it sped along the motorway, his mood resembling something close to petulant. Or maybe he really was just tired, after all, wasn’t everybody?

  “That’s not the way it works, Johnny, and you know that.”

  He turned to look at her. “Have you ever been in love, Stevie?”

  “Where the hell did that come from?”

  He’d never once asked her anything like that before. It was a subject neither of them had ever felt the need to talk about and God knows why he was bringing it up now.

  “Have you?”

  Johnny watched her reaction closely. Something had changed in her eyes when he’d asked that question, but whether it had anything to do with Mark he couldn’t quite work out.

  “No. No, I haven’t been in love.” A lie. ”Can we change the subject now?”

  She leaned over to grab a cigarette from the box lying on the table in front of a now sleeping Jack.

  “Not even with Mark?”

  She lit the cigarette, leaning back in her seat, forgetting that Ava was still in the vicinity. She suddenly just really needed one.

  “I’m not in love with Mark. I’ve never been in love with Mark.” She looked at him, pushing a hand through her hair and away from her face. “Is this going anywhere, Johnny?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe I just don’t understand you two as much as I thought I did.”

  “What the...Johnny? Where are you going?”

  “To grab some sleep before we get there. I’m shattered.”

  Stevie watched him make his way to the bunks, throwing Mark a strange look as he arrived back out front.

  “What’s up with him?” Mark asked, slipping into the seat next to Stevie.

  “Beats me.” She smiled at him as he leaned in for a quick, hard kiss. “You feeling a bit calmer now?”

  “When am I ever anything else?” he grinned, pulling her against him and going in for another kiss. “But yeah, I’m feeling a lot calmer. However, if you’re offering to make me feel just that little bit more relaxed...”

  She laughed, laying her legs over his as he ran his fingers up and down them, creeping up the bottom of her denim shorts as their mouths met again in a slower, deeper kiss.

  “You know what,” she said, gently stroking the bac
k of his neck as they continued to kiss. “I reckon we could both do with getting our heads down for a bit.”

  “A bit of what though?” Jack smirked, waking up and stretching out.

  “Sleep, Jack. Unlike you lot, when we get to the stadium me and the guys have got shitloads to do. You just bugger off to your hotel, smoke joints and demand crates of lager while we’re working our arses off setting everything up. You might be getting the day off today but the rest of us have got to start sorting things out for tomorrow.”

  “Is that what we do?” Jack said, winking at her. “Smoke joints and drink lager?”

  “Pretty much, yeah,” Mark laughed.

  “Jesus, why do I bother?” Stevie sighed, swinging her legs off of Marks and straightening her t-shirt.

  “Hang on. Weren’t we going for a lie down?” Mark asked, grabbing Jack’s cigarettes before he put them back in his pocket, taking out two, putting one behind his ear.

  “I’m not in the mood anymore.”

  “I thought you were always in the mood?” Jack said, standing up and leaning back against the side of the table.

  “Can you tell him to piss off, Mark? He’s really starting to wind me up today.”

  Jack whistled, leaning forward to ruffle Stevie’s hair. She slapped his hands away, kneeling up on her seat to get a better aim at him.

  “Ok, kids, can we just try and play nicely now.” Dave Deacon emerged from the back of the bus, throwing the video camera at Mark. “And I think this belongs to you, or I’m assuming it does seeing as you appear to be starring in whatever’s on there.” He looked at Stevie as he walked past but she ignored him. He was really starting to annoy her too. “And make sure that doesn’t get into the wrong hands. The last thing we fucking need is a sex tape scandal in the middle of a tour.”