Curves for Her Rockstar (2 page)

He wasn’t the first to own it. A long string of successful musicians had it before him. Rumor said he sunk every bit of money he had into buying it. I don’t believe in magic or the supernatural but the band stopped playing bars in two horse towns once he got it.

It shouldn’t be here unguarded.

It was a mistake or somebody would come soon. I grit my teeth as a bad thought went through my mind. I shook my head hard as soon as I visualized it.

You have to touch it.

I walked over and ran my fingers over the long shaft of the fret board and strings.
So much history.
My eyes widened, and I held back a tear. It saw free love, disco, heavy metal, alternative, grunge, and everything between. My heart raced, and I heard the sound of my heavy breathing.

Just take it. Strum a few licks over the strings.

I shook my head.
I can’t. It’s Blake’s guitar and disrespectful.

When are you going to get a chance like this? You didn’t wait in Austin.

My head tilted.
Shit. I make a good point.

My hands went under it and I lifted up slowly. The smooth wood grain pressed against my fingertips. I’m a big girl and I can lift several guitars but this was heavy in my hands. Almost like the decades of music had weight.

I blinked several times and bit the side of my mouth.

Just a few notes. You can say you played Blake Brook’s famous Gibson.

My heart pounded in my chest.

After six months, didn’t I deserve some bragging rights?

I nodded my head and looked toward the sides then behind.

If you going to do it, do it now.

I softly stroked the long strings along the fret board. My hand went out an inch from the strings and I closed my eyes and my body trembled.

Just a few notes of ‘Dream Girl’.

My hand went down and a sharp yell came from behind. “What the hell is this?”

Her voice wasn’t sugary sweet, but I still recognized Miranda.

I jerked and the guitar with decades of musical history fell out of my hands. It took less than a second but it
seemed
longer. The guitar spun down toward the hard wood stage. I reached out to grab it and missed by several inches. The leather strap ran over my hand and caught on my ring. Blake’s guitar stopped two inches from the floor with a jerk.

My eyes were still wide when Miranda stepped in front. Her face flushed with red as her nostrils flared. She reached out and bared her teeth. Her fingers reached under the guitar and she took it back.

Her voice was quick and quiet when she spoke. “This isn’t for you. None of this is. It’s for
real
musicians.”

I swallowed away at the lump in my throat as best I could. “I’m sorry. I just saw it here and–” I coughed hard as I tried to finish explaining.

She shoved me back or as best she could. “Shut up. You must be stupid as you are fat to touch anything of Blake’s.”

I grit my teeth.

She smiled and her sweet as sugar voice returned. “See me in twenty minutes about your new assignment.”

***

I wasn’t sure what my new assignment entailed but anything that made her smile wasn’t good. I walked to her office. Miranda was there watching Blake through the monitors. She saw me and smiled. “Giving you a new assignment so you won’t touch his equipment.”

I took in a big inhale as I waited for the bomb to drop.

She handed me a clipboard. “Here’s your new assignment. Gopher duty.”

The hell?

She smiled wide and batted her eyes. “That’s not a problem is it, dear?”

My jaw tightened. My normal duties were hooking up electrical and pyrotechnics equipment. Gopher or ‘go for’ duty was the lowest of lows. Newbies did that work free.

“That’s bull. Let someone else do it. You need me for electrical.”

She shook her head. “Not right now we don’t,
dear
.” She tilted her head. “Can’t handle life on the road? Maybe you should leave?”

I let out a long breathy sigh. Despite working with Miranda and the lack of music career advancement, I took pride with my job. I was on tour with Blake Brooks – country music rock star. If I left, that’s six months of my life wasted. For all I knew, I might run into Blake next week and who knows?

I tightened my fist and my nails dug into my palm.
Who am I kidding?

It’s been six months and nothing like I imagined. Still, I was in a strange town with nobody I knew and a week away from my payday. If I walked off the job, I’d have to beg for airfare or more likely, take a bus back home.

Besides, it wasn’t right to leave. Despite Miranda’s assessment, they needed me. If anything went wrong with the fireworks or electrical equipment people might die. I had to stay on site so they could get me. I owned Blake and his fans that much.

Miranda didn’t wait for my decision. She tapped the clipboard with a long list of gopher duties for the band.

“Have fun Miss Musician.”

For the next two hours, I had to
go for
green tea ice cream, pick up a package of lingerie, gluten-free pizza, coffee with soy milk, and a gorilla suit. If I didn’t spend the last six months on tour, I’d think Miranda was playing a joke on me. She wasn’t.

Band members have money and influence to indulge in idiosyncrasies no matter how weird. It’s up to gophers to make it happen. Most of the food was easy to find except for gluten-free pizza. Amazingly, I found the gorilla suit faster.

I dropped off most of my packages and food.
Just one last delivery, then I’m done.

I walked to the last door in the hall. The doors didn’t have names in case a crazed fan made it past security. I gave the secret three quick knocks, waited, then knocked again. If they were fucking someone, I’d hear “Go away” or “Fuck off” if there were in the middle of something – so to speak.

I pursed my lips as nobody answered.

Hope it’s the right door or somebody’s getting a surprise lingerie.

I slowly unlocked the door to give anybody a chance to stop me. Nobody did. I stared at the empty room as the door squeaked open.

One end had a lighted mirror with my reflection. I gave myself a mock hello. The surrounding yellow lights weren’t flattering, but I thought I still look good – especially around the eyes. Besides my tits and ass they were my best feature. I always put extra effort there. My eyes went down toward the rest of my big girl body. Wouldn’t mind losing a few pounds but who wouldn’t? I pursed my lips.

If you did that, you might lose your curves.

Like that matters. Nobody appreciates them.

I looked around the room. Whoever it was, they got the best room. The other rooms were smaller, but this one was double the size and even had a side room I took to be a bathroom. Next to the door was a plush wide couch – more of a bed really. I thought about sitting on it for a while to rest my throbbing feet. After touching Blake’s equipment, I decided not to chance it.

“Special delivery,” I yelled.
Geez, that sounds stupid.

A muffled raspy voice called out from behind the side door.

“Oh good, you’re here. Did the agency tell you about my request?”

My eyebrow went up. “Agency?”

The door cracked open another inch and then closed to just a thin crack. An eye blinked back through the crack in response.

“Damn. They didn’t tell you?” I heard a long drawn out sigh.

“Morons. All of them.” He paused for a heartbeat. “See the black blindfold near the mirror?”

I looked and nodded.

“Put in on.”

My forehead scrunched. “Why?”

“It’s just my kink.”

Kink?

He said nothing for several seconds. “Can you please hurry?”

I shrugged.
I’ve done stranger things.

My fingertips slid along the black silk material. I folded it a few times and then tied it around my eyes.

Normally, I wouldn’t blindfold myself in a strange room but most Southern girls know how to fight – especially women my size. Years of teasing gives a girl a good right hook. Besides, I didn’t
feel
like I was in danger. Of course, I’m not sure how well I can trust my common sense. I almost smashed a historical guitar today.

I held out my arms. “Done.”

The side door squeaked open. Vibrations echoed throughout the floor as he walked towards me. His hands touched the side of my head and he tightened the blindfold.

A male voice spoke out. “It’s better when you can’t see. Then you can imagine whoever you like.”

My head tilted in agreement.
There might be something to that.

My lips pursed. The voice was familiar, but it wasn’t anyone I worked with. I saw a sliver of an opening under the blindfold when I looked down. Not enough to see who spoke but enough to verify there were only two people in the room.

I frowned. If this was Miranda’s tricks, there are easier ways to make my life miserable. I admit I was starting to second-guess myself. Blindfolded with a strange man and a package of lingerie wasn’t normal.

His fingertips went along my jaw and interrupted my thoughts. “Let me get a look at you.” He let out a wondering murmur. “Did I hire you last time?”

Both of my eyebrows rose. “I don’t think so?”

He let out another questioning murmur. “Well… tell your boss he knows how to pick them.” My nose wrinkled, and I smelled whiskey. It sloshed and echoed around in the bottle as it neared my lips.

My head jerked back, and I shook my head. I might be blindfolded but I’m not taking a drink from a strange man.

He let out a sad sigh. “There’s nothing in there. I wouldn’t do that.”

I frowned. “Sorry.”

He stayed silent. “No, it’s ok. Guess you can’t be too careful in your line of work. You must run into some real weirdos.”

Well that confirmed it.

His smooth callused hand stroked the side of my jaw. Lingering residuals of heat lingered for several seconds. He let out a long breath. “You are good looking one. That’s for damn sure.”

I pulled my head back supposedly to let him get a better look at me but also adjust my viewing angle.

My slit of sight moved. I saw tight blue jeans glued to flexed out leg muscles as my shoulders tensed.

I swallowed hard as my heart raced.
The same blue jeans as in the poster.
Yeah, jeans look alike but nobody fills them out like him.

Muffled voice and a blindfold. He doesn’t want me to know he’s Blake Brooks!

I scratched away at the rising gooseflesh along my arm. His voice wasn’t exactly the same. I guess he changed it to make sure nobody recognized him. Makes a certain amount of sense, his voice was in the air everywhere.

“You okay darlin’?”

I swallowed again at the lump in my throat. My heart beat so fast it almost hurt. I tried to say something but all I could do was nod quickly.

I was blindfolded so I couldn’t read his reaction and the room was quiet. All I heard was his rhythmic breathing.

“First time doing this?” I heard another swallow of whiskey and the scent followed soon after.

I shook my head. “Just not used to blindfolds.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Well, if you want to get paid, the blindfold stays.” He paused for a moment. “Is just my kink – a way to add a bit of fun.”

Or for people to not recognize you.

I took in a huge inhale and just considered my situation. Why was he hiring an escort? He could get any woman he wanted.

I thought about the last gaggle of girls we picked up. Anyone of them would’ve slept with him. Why didn’t he pick
them
? They all had a nice assortment of what I think most men like. One had big tits, the other tall, one was black, another mixed race...

My forehead scrunched, and I shook my head mentally.

That couldn’t be it could it?

There were all... not big. For the first time, I was grateful for the blindfold. He couldn’t see my wide eyes.

He likes curvy girls.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take me long to figure out why he ‘hired’ me. He’s a remarkable singer, but this business is about image. Someone like me isn’t media friendly. Sure there’s a few in the business but not many. Most look like standard Barbie models.

So what do I do? I let out a shaky breath. Could I go through with this? Was this wrong? He wants to fuck somebody, and he likes curvy girls. Did it matter if it was me or somebody else?

As I thought about my moral dilemma, I heard his footsteps and the soft click of a locked door. Whatever was about to happen, we had privacy.

I guess that’s decided then.

My heart thumped hard.
Oh fuck. I’m going to fuck Blake Brooks!
Technically, he was going to fuck me. I shrugged mentally. I’ll take it or rather he’ll take me.