Highway Song: A Smokey's Roadhouse Novel (31 page)

Before going back to the studio, I called Smokey to let him know
‘
revenuers
’
could be knocking on his door.

“’
At
’
s okay, kiddo. Ya didn
’
t make enough here to be subject to taxes, so I
’
ll be okay. You becoming a model citizen?
”

I laughed.
“
Something like that. I don
’
t know if the real citizens consider rock band members
‘
model
’
citizens, but I
’
m gainfully employed, with benefits and a paycheck and everything. So are the others.
”

“
Glad to hear it, sis. Y
’
all come back an
’
play for us again sometime, ya hear?
”

“
I can
’
t promise, Smokey, but if we get some leeway from the label, maybe we can. As long as Jake and his gang aren
’
t there anymore.
”

“
Ain
’
t seen
‘
em lately. Trouble
’
s brewin
’
, for sure, but ain
’
t happened yet.
”

“
Well, I hope it works out for you. I
’
d better go.
”

“
Thanks for callin
’
. Don
’
t you worry none about us,
”
he said.

With everything that went on for the next few weeks, I didn
’
t have time to worry about anything. My lawyer called every week to let me know he was still waiting on a reply from the IRS, and I had relaxed about the cartel finding me. I didn
’
t feel a whisper of danger. Which made it all the more stunning when, a couple of months later, it arrived at my doorstep from a direction I never would have expected.

It was a new year, and we
’
d worked hard getting our first CD recorded. The first single had been released to popular acclaim, thanks to the media attention the different departments had generated. We were flying high on the first flush of success. Rex and I had spent the holidays together while other members went home to families and received the congratulations they craved. He and I had no one but ourselves, but we celebrated nevertheless. He
’
d achieved the highest dream he
’
d dared dream, a song in the Top Forty in the Southern Rock list, since our new word for our sound, Blu-so-fo-ro, hadn
’
t caught on yet. I was too complacent in my newfound stability, as it turned out.

Everyone had returned after the holidays, and we
’
d worked harder than ever to have the CD ready by the time of our first concert, to be held in late January in Phoenix.  As I packed my new clothes, including a stunning outfit for the concert, I couldn
’
t believe how completely my life had turned around. I was living a fairy tale, complete with a lifestyle that at least looked glamorous, and a sexy boyfriend who treated me like a queen in public.

In private, he treated me like I loved to be treated. He knew how to gauge my moods perfectly
—
when I was in the mood for rough handling, when I wanted to be cherished, and when I wanted to be in charge. Not that he allowed the reality of the latter. He
’
d let me pretend for a while, and then turn the tables on me, and I
’
d be under his spell again. Right where I wanted to be.

We all looked forward to the concert. We
’
d played in the studio, of course, and even played in clubs for audiences. But this would be the first appearance in front of a crowd like this since Seattle. We
’
d waited months for this opportunity, and our spirits were high.

TWENTY-TWO

Rex

T
he kickoff of our tour would open to a crowd of sixty-three thousand, assuming it was a sellout. We expected a boost from the thousands of spectators for the Superbowl, to be held on the Sunday following our Friday night event. I had no idea how the label had pulled that one off, since it would require an army of maintenance personnel to prepare the field for such a huge occasion on Sunday, not to mention our concert would disrupt rehearsals for the halftime show. But that wasn
’
t our concern. We had people for that.

When we were touring as a relatively unknown band, we could only dream of the perks we now took for granted unless we stopped to think about them. Then we
’
d have to pinch ourselves to make sure we weren
’
t still dreaming. Because of the success of our single, this tour
’
s launch of the CD was expected to catapult us into genuine star status. We
’
d fly to our next tour stop if that came about. For this occasion, we had a familiar form of transport
—
a motor coach, with sleeping accommodations in case we didn
’
t make the splash the label expected.

The six or seven-hour trip to Phoenix wouldn
’
t require we actually sleep in them for this leg of the journey. We were booked into a four-star hotel near the stadium, guaranteed to be even more comfortable than the one we stayed in when we first arrived in LA. We were receiving star treatment, and I for one enjoyed the hell out of it.

We checked in on Thursday afternoon, with our evening free to do as we pleased. Because this might be the last time we could ever appear in public without being recognized, we thought it would be fun to have dinner and then go to a local club. The guys wanted to stay out later than Amy and I did, though. We
’
d spotted the enormous shower in our suite, and had other ideas.

Making love to Amy was still as fresh as the first time we
’
d held each other. Her moods were changeable, and that kept things interesting. I might not know until the moment we closed the bedroom door what she was in the mood for. Tonight, she was in the mood for having sex all over the suite, as we couldn
’
t do at home because of our roommates.

She started as soon as the door wheezed closed. With a flourish, she flipped the privacy bar and the door lock. When she turned around, the lustful expression in her eyes and the quick flick of her tongue across her full lips made my blood race
—
straight to my dick. I could only watch as she glided toward me, her intent clear. Our eyes met, and she curved those luscious lips in a seductive smile.

Without a word, she stopped with only an inch between us. Her arms straight by her sides, she lifted her face for a kiss. Following her lead, I offered the kiss with my own arms straight. The heat leapt between our bodies in the minuscule space between them, even though we weren
’
t touching anywhere but our lips. The sense of anticipation made my body tingle from groin to chest, but Amy had begun this game. I didn
’
t know the rules.

With her teeth, she grazed my lower lip, and then held it more firmly as she backed away. I had no choice but to follow, taking care to maintain that slight distance between us. Amy tugged me in this way until she found the faux-leather sofa a couple of feet behind her. She
’
d had to skirt it when she stalked me from the door, so she knew exactly when to stop. Another moment passed as she soothed my lip by taking it between her own and licking with soft flicks of her tongue. By now, I was in danger of grazing her stomach with my growing erection, and had to angle my hips back to maintain that precious inch of space between us.

Amy
’
s arms came up, and she leaned back a little to gain the space to put her hands between us and unbutton my shirt. I put my hands on her hips and steadied her in the awkward position, until she pushed me away a little, stood straight, and pushed my shirt off my shoulders and down my arms.

“
Now you,
”
she murmured, dropping her arms again and looking trustingly into my eyes. She
’
d managed to create an atmosphere of the unknown, as if this were the very first time we
’
d undressed each other. It was hot as hell. As I pulled her crisp white button-down shirt out of the waistband of her skirt, her breath quickened. I unbuttoned the shirt slowly, letting my knuckles graze her breasts as the process passed them. I repeated her movements, spreading the edges of the shirt, lifting them over the round curves of her shoulders and pushing the shirt off her arms.

A simple white bra with just a bit of lace framed her. My dick strained my slacks as I reached around to expertly unhook it and draw it away from her. It almost broke the mood when the damn thing hung up on my erection, falling to the floor only after I shifted my hips to loosen it. But Amy stayed in character despite the twinkle in her eyes. I regained my composure and reached to cup her tits in my hands.
“
My God, you
’
re beautiful,
”
I whispered.

Her nipples pebbled, and I circled them with my thumbs as I kept my hands around the ripe firmness of her tits. They were small, in keeping with her slender build. No matter how much I asked her to put on a bit of weight, she couldn
’
t do it. I
’
d come to appreciate her delicate beauty, though, and the strength that belied it. In a test of wills, she could hold out much longer than I
’
d have thought against my superior strength. Tonight, though, there was no contest. We both wanted every moment to come to be savored and drawn out.

Amy let her head tip back and an ecstatic expression rule her face as I continued the slow tease of her nipples. I waited for her signal to move this along, content to watch her enjoyment of the sensations.

After a few minutes, she reached for my belt and deftly undid the buckle, before also undoing the hook and eye and then unzipping the pants. Each step in the process made my dick leap in anticipation of feeling her small, soft hands on my heated flesh. She nudged the pants over my hipbones and let them fall to the floor, then lifted the waistband of my boxer briefs over my erection and did the same for them. Feeling a bit silly in my dress shoes and socks and nothing else, I toed them off and stood before her, naked and still not touching other than with our hands.

My dick stood pointed straight at the ceiling, in spite of gravity and my consuming desire to feel her skin touching it. Just as I thought I might not be able to restrain myself any longer, Amy sank gracefully to sit on the sofa, putting her lips at just the right level to take me in her mouth. Involuntarily, I let my head loll back, and at the same time clutched her with both hands in her hair. I felt her hands on my flanks, but what consumed me was the need to thrust my hips, driving myself into her sweet mouth.

She used her tongue to swirl around my shaft, and then clamped her lips tight and stroked toward the tip of me. I looked down to meet her eyes just as she smiled, and plunged toward the root, at the same time lifting one hand from my hip and lightly dragging her nails from under my balls, up around the front to at last grasp me firmly.

At that moment, I lost all control and began to pump, while she maintained light control with her hand grasping me and cupping my balls in her palm. With a shuddering effort, I stopped myself. This night needed to last. I pulled her up from her perch and swept her into my arms.

I suppressed a momentary flash of concern at how light she was.
She
’
s just petite, that
’
s all
. I deposited her on the bed. She still had on her pencil skirt, chosen for the formal dinner with Perseid
’
s advance PR crew, a pair of silk stockings held up by a sexy garter belt, and surprisingly, no panties. Delicate pumps with four-inch heels dangled from her feet, which hung over the edge of the bed. I removed the shoes.

“
Lift your ass, sugar, so I can get you out of that skirt,
”
I urged. She fiddled with the side and the hidden zipper parted, allowing me to pull the skirt off her by the hem when she pushed up. The sight of her then, wearing the virginal white garter belt and stockings, drove all thought of control from my mind. I grasped her ankles, pulled her ass to the side of the bed, and plunged into her.

Her gasp, followed quickly by soft sounds of pleasure, inflamed me more.

“
Is this the way you want it, sugar? Hard and deep?
”