Limelight (3 page)

"You did?" she exclaimed, stopping in the middle of the parking lot to face him.  "What are the plans?"

"Well," he replied with a sheepish grin.  "Right now, Jake's cleaning up the apartment for a little party later tonight, afterwards.  Sarah's brother is a licensed wedding officiate and he's already agreed to meet us all tonight for a small ceremony!"

"Meet us where?"

"At the playground over in Cully.  I thought we'd just have a quick, quiet ceremony in the place where we sang our first song together."

Layla stared into his sparkling eyes replaying hundreds of memories she'd shared with Seth on the playground through the years.  Even after they were past playground age, they'd met there many times when there'd been nowhere else to go.  It had been their sacred space and they'd never let either of their families know where they went.  Layla began to cry.  "That is so sweet, Seth.  I love you so much."

He scooped her against him, swept her off her feet, and spun her round.  "So you're happy then?  You like the idea?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, baby, yes.  Thank you!"

"Great," he said, placing her back on her feet.  "Let's go buy some weddin' duds!"

***

At seven p.m. the truck rolled to a stop at the curb alongside the old Cully playground.  Layla's breath caught as she noted the small gathering of friends in the park.  Jake stood with Sarah, their keyboard player, and Alex the bass player.  The trio looked totally different than their usual black leather and chains, as they'd cleaned up nicely for the occasion.  About ten other friends stood by as well, including Sarah's brother and the entire crowd grinned and cheered as Seth helped Layla out of the truck.  Tears shimmered on her cheeks.

Seth had opted to purchase himself a black pinstriped suit, complete with a scarlet silk tie.  She'd never seen him so dressed up and the sight of him in the sophisticated clothing with his hair slicked back was utterly becoming.  For her, he'd purchased a simple but gorgeous silk white dress.  It was strapless with a beaded bodice and layers of flowing film gracefully hugging her slender frame and sweeping the ground.  He took her by the hand and led her to stand with their friends.

Everybody exchanged hugs and congratulations with the couple while butterflies did their dance in Layla's stomach.  She kept peeking at Seth to see if he seemed as nervous as she.  But he grinned broadly at everyone, never letting go of her hand, and seemed the picture of cool calm collectedness.  Finally, Sarah's brother asked if they were ready to begin.

Seth and Layla stood shoulder to shoulder before the officiate as their friends rallied behind them.  He gave a brief speech about the usual wedding topics, smiling broadly at the couple as he spoke.  Before she knew it, the officiate began instructing them to repeat after him.  Soon they were slipping the simple bands they'd also purchased that day onto each other's shaking hands. 

Upon the officiate's instructions, Layla kissed her old friend and new husband with a flood of joy streaming down her face.

***

The St. John's and friends gathered back at Jake's apartment to make merriment together and celebrate the union that everybody had known would happen.  Corks were popped, and champagne flowed.  Seth lovingly tried to coax Layla into sharing a wedding toast with him, but she stuck to
Pepsi.
  Despite her early induction to the rock and roll lifestyle, and growing up around drugs and booze, Layla always refrained when opportunities to drink presented themselves.  She'd seen what the stuff did to people, and she felt that laws against under aged drinking were there for a reason.  She endured endless teasing from her friends for her "prudish" standpoint, but all the same, she maintained a clean existence.

Seth, on the other hand, who knew as well as she if not better, what the stuff could do to a person, had steadily engaged in drinking for several years already.  Sometimes she found it shocking to watch him get drunk after all the drunken beatings he'd suffered all his life.  And once in a while, she glimpsed momentary flashes of his father in him.  Possessing a quick temper anyway, Seth had been known to get out of control when drinking.

So she watched him get drunk and rowdy at their wedding reception with a touch of sadness.  Though she'd never admit it out loud, she wished he would want to celebrate this cherished event with her in his right mind.  Nonetheless, she laughed, danced, and had a great time with Seth and her friends. 

Around midnight, everyone mutually agreed it was time to let the bride and groom have privacy.  Jake graciously informed them he would be crashing elsewhere for the night and letting them have the place to themselves.  The party went from full swing to an empty apartment in a matter of minutes and Layla found herself there alone with Seth, and drowning in nerves.

After closing the door on the last guest, Seth turned to face her with a dark grin on his face.  He slammed his drink down on an end table, and she watched the amber liquid slosh over the side.  It created a sloppy mess that Seth seemed oblivious too.  Layla's heart raced.  She regarded him with harshly mixed emotions.  She loved this person so much.  This wasn't how she had ever envisioned this night going.

Seth advanced.

In a split second, he'd roughly pulled her against him. He smashed his lips over hers with a deep, rough, probing kiss.  All the while, he grappled clumsily behind her back with the clasps on her dress.  After an awkward moment while she struggled to catch her breath as he kissed her, cool air assaulted her when her dress fluttered to the floor.

Seth released her and stood back.  He drew a sharp intake of breath as he ogled her exposed flesh.  She stood in the dim light, wearing a lacy white strapless bra and a matching G-string.  Shyly, she moved her arms to cover her chest, but he reached out and pushed her hands back down to her sides.  He spun his finger in the air, silently demanding that she spin around before him.

She knew she should be feeling excited.  After all, this was a moment she'd anxiously awaited for a long time.  But she didn't like the look in his dark eyes as he glared at her.  After a brief hesitation, she began to turn slowly in a circle. 

And she hadn't even completed the circle when he grabbed her.

Seth hauled her over his shoulder and bolted into the bedroom with her where he dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed.  Layla scrambled under the covers watching as he ripped at his own clothing and left his lovely wedding attire in a messy pile discarded on the floor.  He leapt onto the bed where he yanked the covers right back off her.

Layla trembled from head to foot as Seth hungrily pawed her body.  There was definitely a thrill of anticipation coursing through her, but it was mostly overshadowed by a sense of fear.  There was a specific way she wanted this to go.  Slowly.  Sensuous.  But the look of raw lust in his eyes told her that wasn't likely to happen.

He yanked both her bra and G-string so savagely that they tore.  He discarded them without a second thought.  Kneeling on his knees next to her, he roughly massaged her breasts with one hand while seeking out her center with his other.

Layla gasped as his hot fingers entered her without any sort of lead in.

"Seth!" she exclaimed, nearly choking on her own breath as it caught in her throat.  "Baby, go slow! Please!"

Seth grinned as he began to rapidly move two fingers in and out of her.  Her body responded in ways she was unfamiliar with.  Her temperature instantly increased to a feverish degree.  Her abdominal region began to tingle.  Yet, it hurt.  What he was doing to her evoked a yelp and she grimaced, closing her eyes.

"Don't worry, baby," he said softly, his voice a whisper thick with desire.  "I'll get you wet."

He moved his fingers faster and harder, while massaging a part of her she'd been unaware of, with his thumb.  Her eyes popped open and widened as she did feel herself become hot and moist.  New feelings awakened inside her, but still, she hurt.  The alarming mix of emotions was unsettling.  She moaned.

"That's right," he whispered, leering down at her.  He continued to finger her relentlessly, and she watched as he slid his other hand up and down his own thick, long cock.  It was the first time she'd ever seen it.  It throbbed, and he groaned.  The sight of it both thrilled and terrified her.

Her breaths came quick and shallow.  She struggled to understand the sensations she felt, while at the same time unable to grab onto a coherent thought.  Her legs spread as if against her will and she wondered if it would somehow ease the pain he created as he tried to open her with the rough movement of his hand and fingers.  She wondered what was supposed to happen.  Then he abruptly pulled his fingers out of her and positioned himself between her legs.

"Oh! Seth!  Please, I'm scared!  Please don't hurt me," Layla pleaded, staring up at him with shining eyes.

"I won't hurt you," he groaned.  He stared down at her for one breathless second and then lunged.

Seth thrust into her in one hard push.  Layla's voice rang out over the quiet night in a long wail.  He pushed into her again and again.  Seth rocked his hips at an insane rate, grunting each time he hit the deepest parts of her.  She closed her eyes and struggled with the feeling of fullness, trying to focus on the part of this that felt good.

She knew he didn't mean to lie.  But hurt her, he did.

***

By the time a week had come and gone, all members of Victim Unknown had packed up, turned in keys to their respective landlords, and headed south.  The band created a caravan and made their way to L.A.  They had mutually worked out their plan to relocate long in advance so they arrived in L.A. with an apartment they would all share until they got on their feet, and a roster of gigs already scheduled. 

In fact, they played a show their very first night; before they'd even had an opportunity to unpack and settle in.  They opened for a major band in an arena brimming with over ten thousand listeners.  Though the fans were there for the headlining band, Victim Unknown was thrilled with the response to their music and nailed the best performance they'd ever given.

And it was after that show when they were approached back stage by a man who brandished a business card, and suggested they get into his office Monday morning and sign a record deal.

Six Years Later

L
ayla cast her eyes to the side and stared at the red light on the dark TV, clearing her mind of everything but that light.

Seth hammered in and out of her, grunting and breathing heavily.  She finally returned her attention to his gorgeous face when his eyes closed, he let out a blissful moan, and she felt his release explode inside her.  He rode out the waves of his pleasure and then collapsed down onto her body leaving his cock inside her.

She sighed and looked back at the red light.  They were in a hotel room in Australia.  She felt annoyed.  Tears pricked her eyes, so she closed her eyes to keep them from falling.  She didn't know exactly why she felt like crying, she just did.  And that annoyed her.  She also hated the smell of hotel rooms.  Even penthouses, like the one she was flat on her back in just then, had a weird smell that she hated.  She contemplated the feel of her husband's large, still hard cock inside her, and wondered why the hell she couldn't feel happy about at least
that.

"Why don't you ever get off, Layla?"

His sudden question snapped her out of her own dreary thoughts.  She'd thought he'd drifted off to sleep with his face buried in the large bosoms he'd made her get several years back.

"What are you talking about?" she said with a chuckle.  "Of course I get off."

He hoisted himself onto his elbows and looked down at her.  "No you don't, Layla.  In fact, I'd go so far to say that you have never had an orgasm with me."

Her cheeks blazed.  She thoroughly enjoyed sex with Seth.  But, given the fact that she couldn't say for a fact whether she'd had a bonafide orgasm or not, did lend to the suspicion that he might be right.  But of course, she'd rather die than admit it. "Seth, come on.  You're crazy.  Of course you make me come."  She gave him a sultry smile.

But he didn't give into her charms that time and she felt him slightly move his hips; just enough to slide out of her.  "I'm serious.  I know you don't come."

Wow.  Maybe it's because you're a drunk?  Maybe it's because you're a prick with a bad attitude and worse temper?
Layla immediately regretted her dark thoughts regarding her husband.  "Baby, I…  I don't know what to say.  I do come, really!  What are you talking about?"

She took his hand and pulled it down.  Guiding his fingers, she slid them inside herself.  She slid her own finger in with his and she moved them together in a steady rhythm.  "You don't feel that?" she said in a throaty whisper.  "You don't feel how wet you make me?"

Lust clouded his eyes for just a second but then evaporated.  He yanked his hand out and away.  "Getting wet is not the same as getting off," he growled.  He shoved off of her and then climbed out of the bed.  Hostility radiated through the muscles that rippled down his back as he yanked on his jeans and a white t-shirt. 

Layla sat up in the bed, pulling the sheet up over her breasts.  "Baby!  Seth!"

He stalked toward the hotel room's door but stopped and spun to face her.  "Layla," he said, anger coloring his cheeks.  "For six years, I've wondered what I was doing wrong.  But you know what?  I'm starting to think it's not me."

Her mouth dropped open and she watched his back as he stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him.

***

Twenty four hours found Victim Unknown back in L.A., sitting in a studio where bass players lined up outside to audition.  Their label had arranged a break in their tour to audition a new bass player. 

Layla sat among the remaining members of Victim Unknown at a table.  They chatted excitedly about the turn out for the auditions, and about what they all hoped to see and find.  Layla was the only one who remained mostly quiet.  Once again, nobody seemed willing to address the elephant in the room.

The bass player they'd had was awesome.  But he quit because Seth got drunk one night and beat him up.  Just like the bass player before him, who'd accused Seth of hitting on his woman, and then quit.  And the two drummers, and one keyboard player they'd had to replace.  All because of complaints against her husband.  Victim Unknown had risen to an impressive status since signing with Grace Note Records.  Anybody who wanted to quit the band must have an awfully compelling reason, as far as Layla could tell.  But, in the end, everybody including the label, stood behind the band's front man, Seth St. John.  And disgruntled members were simply replaced and forgotten about.

So there they sat, with yet another necessary break in touring because they had to find a new bass player.  Then they'd have to practice with the new band mate and make sure whoever it was acclimated to Victim Unknown before they could play out.  The fact that everyone was so excited about it disgusted Layla.  She liked the band members who'd quit.  And she hated canceling shows to accommodate Seth's fuck ups and temper tantrums. 

Especially considering how expensive his cocaine habit had become.  At a certain point, they wouldn't be able to afford to cancel performances if he didn't slow down.

Layla watched each bass player come before the band and shred with her arms crossed contemptuously over her chest, and without comment.  After each audition the band discussed, and Layla contributed nothing but a condescending smile and said, "Whatever you guys decide is fine with me."  Seth became increasingly annoyed with her, she determined, based on his rigid posture and scathing looks.  But she did not care.  She simply refused to participate in the drama anymore.

Except, ten auditions into the process, Tara Outeridge strode into the studio.

The lights were down, and Layla immediately hoped no one had noticed her face when she watched Tara walk in.  Her mouth dropped and she sat back in her seat, her arms finally uncrossing and her hands falling lifelessly into her lap. 

Honestly, she'd seen a thousand other women exactly like Tara strutting around L.A. through the years.  Tall, stacked, in perfect shape, flawless face, smoky blue eyes, and a short messy crop of blonde hair.  Tara wore a smirk that suggested a chip on her shoulder, or maybe that she fancied herself smarter than everyone around her.  In fact, not only had Layla seen Tara's kind before, she usually despised Tara's kind.  So, she wasn't exactly sure just what it was about Tara that struck her differently.  Maybe it was the low, musical sound of her voice.  Or maybe it was that Tara met Layla's eyes and never averted her gaze.  She didn't even look at the other band members.

It wasn't until Tara's performance was over, and she was leaving the room until Layla noticed her husband staring at her.

Layla looked him in the eye for a split second then looked away.  "That's the one," she mumbled. 

"Yeah?" asked the drummer.

"Yep," Layla confirmed.  Excited chatter erupted around the table, but this time, Seth was the one to remain quiet.  When everyone including the band's manager and the label owner agreed they liked Tara after studying her portfolio, tear sheets, and credentials, Layla finally asked him.  "Well?  Seth?  What'd you think of her?"

Seth wore a small, strange smile and regarded Layla through narrow eyes.  "Yeah.  She's hot.  Let's hire her."

Layla frowned.  "Yeah," she agreed her tone a little snide.  "Let's."

The band honored five more auditions before they called it, and sent the rest packing.  Victim Unknown's manager called Tara Outeridge to welcome her to the show.

***

Though Tara undeniably had something that drew Layla, at the same time, she felt leery.  Whatever special flare had provoked Layla to endorse hiring the bass player had been stamped out when Seth called her "hot."  She immediately wondered what embarrassment would ultimately befall her marriage as a result of introducing the pretty woman to the band.  What event would end up on the cover of tabloids that Layla would be expected to ignore and not believe.  So, by the time the first practice with Tara was upon them, Layla's attitude had changed entirely.  She didn't care about whatever it was that had initially appealed to her about Tara.  Instead, she simply braced herself, and decided she was doing nothing but waiting for her reason for hating the new bandmate.

Tara was a little brooding and quiet, but she was polite and open to answering friendly questions from the band.  Layla watched her closely, and though she was trying to convince herself to hate Tara, the other woman was obviously not a shameless flirt and aware of boundaries.  At least, for the time being.  Layla abruptly demanded they get started and cut off the banter.

Not surprisingly, Tara knew all their songs and executed them perfectly.  She had that magical Victim Unknown chemistry and Layla's hostility began to wane slightly.  Tara was a gifted musician and underneath all the drama, the music was exactly what Layla loved.  Maybe, just maybe, she had what it took to rise above the difficulties and form a long term musical connection.  Maybe she would be the missing link to catapult Victim Unknown into real stardom.  And, probably because Layla was the only other female member, Tara was particularly kind to her.  Two hours into practice, Layla had begun to believe everything would be fine.  Perfect, even.

But then her husband hit on Tara in front of everybody.  Layla was crushed and humiliated and her resolve to hate Tara returned with a vengeance.