On the Road: (Vagabonds Book 2) (New Adult Rock Star Romance) (16 page)

I looked up then and wrapped my arms around him.  “No, your timing was perfect.  How’d you know?”

After he held me for a bit, he pulled back and looked in my eyes.  “My room is right next to yours.  I had your room card, and when I heard you scream, I came right over.”

“Have you had that gun this whole time?”

He grinned.  “Yeah.  No security on this tour.  Gotta keep an eye on my girls.”

I hugged him again.  “I don’t deserve you.”

“I was lying to them when I said I called the cops.  Do you want me to?”  I shook my head.  I probably should have pressed charges, but I felt like I’d invited the trouble.

A few minutes later, he had me in my bed, covers up to my chin.  I had forgotten it at the time, but he’d even found my sweatpants and helped me get them on before tucking me in.  He brushed the hair off my forehead.  “‘Night, Kyle.”

I grabbed his arm.  “Please…don’t go.”

His eyes searched mine before he nodded.  “Okay.”  I was asleep before all the lights were out and he’d curled up next to me, my protector.  My savior.

“Sex Metal Barbie” ~ In This Moment

Chapter Twenty-six

IT WAS DARK in the room and I was still floating on a vodka cloud.  Dog’s arm was wrapped around me, holding me close, my back to his chest.  It was at that moment that I felt such gratitude—not just for him but for all the good in the world.  Yes, that too was an alcohol-induced feeling, but gratitude is good, no matter what paper it comes wrapped in.

Feeling his breath on my neck induced more than a feeling of gratitude, though.  I felt aroused, and that was strange, considering what had happened earlier in the evening.  But I had an idea, a thought of a way I could express my gratitude and get a little sex action in as well.

I rolled over so I was facing him.  It was at that time that I noticed the sweatpants around my hips and the bra too snug around my ribcage.  I unfastened the bra, pulling it off my frame and arms and dropping it to the floor, feeling even more gratitude that those brutes hadn’t destroyed it.  I only had four bras on tour and hated doing laundry.  Ah, there.  That was better.  He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so as I snuggled up close, his chest hairs tickled my breasts—and my already hard nipples were finding the sensation arousing.

I kissed his neck where I could feel tiny whiskers poking out, but I kept up the little feather pecks until I heard him mutter something.  When I paused, he spoke again, “What are you doing, Kyle?”

“What’s it feel like I’m doing?”

I could hear the smile in his voice.  “You don’t have to do this, sweetheart.  After all you went through tonight, I think you just need a good night’s sleep.”

“I
want
to.”  I sucked on his bottom lip.  “And I
get
what I want.”  I wrangled my hands under the covers and found the front of his jeans.  He muttered something again but I stuck my tongue in his mouth to shut him up, and by the time his hands were in my hair, I had his cock out.  In no time at all, I had him on his back and was kissing my way down.

It wasn’t until I had him in my mouth that I realized his cock was biggest I’d had the pleasure of having in my mouth.  Meanwhile, Dog was still trying to protest.  “Kyle, you don’t gotta do this, honey.”  One more suck and he shut up.  His objections soon became affirmations as I kissed and nuzzled and drew on his rock hard cock.  “Oh, God,” I heard him mutter, and between that and his sighs and moans, I knew I was on the right track.  His hands were in my hair a short time later, pulling it up and off my face while I performed my magic.

Just a few moments later, he was letting it all go.  Even his fingers in my hair tensed and then relaxed.  I smiled, knowing I’d made him feel good.  He’d never know just how grateful I was, but at least I could give him a token of my appreciation.

That thought in mind, I kissed up his belly and chest before landing a final kiss on his neck.  “Shit, girl.  That was amazing.”

“Good.”  I kissed him once more on the cheek.

“Let me catch my breath here and I’ll return the favor.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to.”

“I think I remember someone else saying, ‘But I want to’.”  He was quiet for a few seconds.  “Or, uh…are you okay with that?  If I went down on you?  After tonight, I mean…”

I could feel how rigid my body had grown with the promise of feeling fulfilled.  I’d been aroused anyway, but the idea of him touching me again assured me that I was more than ready.  “Yeah…I’m fine.”

It was just a few seconds later that he was kissing my neck and then he whispered in my ear.  “I wish I’d gotten here sooner.  Those assholes probably left bruises all over this beautiful body of yours—but I’m going to try to kiss them all away.  Okay?”

I smiled and then giggled.  If only he could kiss away all the evidence of pain in my life—but then I wouldn’t appreciate the good moments.  Even at that age, I understood that.  Another piece of wisdom imparted upon me by my parents.

But Dog tried.  He kissed my arms first, all along the upper and lower parts, every place where those jerks
did
touch.  Soon, though, his lips and mouth were consuming my breasts, eliciting all manner of gasps and groans from me, so much that I was on the verge of begging for relief when he moved his attention to my abdomen on his journey below.  I was sucking down air, my body in a state of frenzy, by the time he was between my legs, and then I could feel his hot tongue lap at my slit before focusing on my clit.  He swirled it around until I moaned loudly, letting him know his target appreciated that attention very much.  His hands massaged my thighs at the same time, and it was just moments before I was just short of writhing in ecstasy, yelling his name and gasping for air.

It was so damned intense, I finally begged him to stop, but only after I rode the wave as long as I could.

Soon after, he started making his way back up the bed and I heard something.  Before I could ask Dog if he heard what I was hearing, I realized it had to be Vicki—
masturbating
.  Apparently, she had come back to our room sometime during the night and our lovemaking had turned her on.

But as I heard the moan as she gave into her orgasm, I realized it wasn’t Vicki—it was our blonde vocalist.  “Barbie, what the hell?”

She let out a last groan and said, “God.  You guys made me so fucking hot.  I couldn’t help myself.”

“No.  I mean what are you doing in here?”

“Liz was being a douche, so Vicki gave me her room card.  She’s with Andrew anyway.”

Dog finally said, “What the hell’s she doin’ with that guy?”

“Oh, my God.  Is that Bad Dog?”  The light switch flipped on, flooding us in beams from the lamp between the bed that were way too bright and started my head pounding.  Add to that, while Dog was wearing jeans, I was completely naked.  “Nice tits, Kyle.  Why have I never seen your tits before?”

“Shut the fuck up and turn off the light, Barbie.”

She licked her index and middle fingers before flipping me off.  “Don’t mind if I do.”

* * *

After that, Dog and I had an unspoken agreement that we were friends with benefits.  Only that wasn’t completely true.  He was
my
FWB, but he never, not once, assumed that we were girlfriend/ boyfriend, nor did he make the leap that I was there for him.  I suppose I would have been had he asked, but it was nice that he didn’t.  It was good for me to be able to play the field but have someone comfortable and comforting if and when I needed it.

Again, that was part of the whole not-shitting-where-you-eat saying, because it could lead to resentment on his part.

But we fucked at least once a week, and he seemed pretty satisfied with that.  TT was also kind enough to give us space when we needed it, so it worked out pretty well.

But while my relationship with Dog was fine, my band was another story completely.  I don’t know why our patience was wearing thin, but we girls started arguing more and more.  Barbie started competing against everyone for the hottest “boy groupie” in the room at our parties, instead of focusing on the guys obviously interested in her.  She’d go after girls once in a while too, just so Liz was included in all the pain Barbie liked to dish out.

But she was starting to annoy the shit out of all of us.  Whenever she could, she liked to tell us that the band wouldn’t be the same without her—and then one time in a drunken moment, she proceeded to inform us that she was carrying the band.  Liz told her to
fuck off
and stormed out of the room.  From then on, she didn’t speak to or look at Barbie.  She didn’t even acknowledge her.  If she had to talk about her, she simply called Barbie “the vocalist.”

We knew who she was talking about—and it was starting to piss Barbie off.

It was almost spring that March, and we were in Florida.  Barbie had started partying shortly after noon that day.  Why, I wasn’t sure, but she
did
say she was tired of us “stick-in-the-mud bitches.”  I supposed it was no worse than Vicki constantly shooting up.  And that was something else that was wearing thin—Vicki failed to keep her promise.  She not only hadn’t cut back, but she seemed to be constantly high anymore.  If I even hinted at being worried, she’d say, “I’m pain free, sister.”  She knew how to effectively shut me up.

But that day, Barbie was in fine form.  She had been picking on Kelly lately, maybe because Kelly hadn’t been fighting back.  Today, though, the girl had had it and was giving it to Barbie as good as she was getting it.  So Barbie was knocking back the drinks one at a time.  When we got in the van to head to the venue, Liz said, “Peter, I think you might need to induce vomiting in our vocalist, because she’s likely to get alcohol poisoning.”

“Don’t be an alarmist, Ms. Mayerson.”  He looked in the mirror attached to his visor.  Barbie’s head was lolling and she seemed really out of it.  Liz might have had a point.  “Ms. Bennett, how are you feeling?”

Barbie popped her head up and the movement was exaggerated, snapping her neck to attention as if she were a private in the Army and her sergeant was getting ready to tell her to give him twenty if she didn’t straighten up immediately.  “I feel great,” she insisted, but her words were slurred.  She was the
only
person in that van who thought she was fine.

Oh, I don’t think Peter thought she was okay either, but he wasn’t going to back down now.  Heaven forbid he not be right all the damn time.

So I and my fellow non-Barbie Vagabonds zipped our lips.  We weren’t going to win this battle, so we just had to cross our fingers and hope for the best.

But I had my doubts.

Barbie actually fell asleep at the venue while we waited to go on.  The four of us decided it might be best to let her snooze until it got closer and so we didn’t wake her up until about five minutes before we got on stage.

“What the fuck, you guys?  Why didn’t you wake me up?”  She lifted herself out of the chair and tried storming across the room, but her body betrayed her.  She was blitzed out of her mind.

She was getting in her bag when Liz said, “We just
did
.”  I sensed that she was so angry, she wanted to say more, but she kept it contained.  Barbie pulled a can of beer out of her bag and popped the tab.

“Bad idea,” I said.

“Fuck off, Kyle.”

I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.  “No, Barbie,
you
fuck off.  We have to be onstage in five minutes, and you’re already so wasted, you can’t even keep your eyes open.”

“I am
fine
,” she said and started singing “Dream World” before guzzling half the can.  I looked at Liz and saw the fear in her eyes that I was sure she could see in mine.  This was a recipe for disaster if there ever was one.  Barbie sounded like shit, but she was at least keeping in tune.  Maybe being in front of the mike and an audience of hundreds would help her sober up.

Less than ten minutes later, we were in front of a huge crowd—and I was nervous as hell.  Barbie might have looked okay to the folks who bought the tickets, but I and my bandmates could tell she was completely fubar.  She started out by grabbing for the mike, and her hand didn’t obey her, instead slapping at the stand like she had a heavy piece of rubber attached her arm instead of an appendage that was supposed to help her.  She missed the mark completely the second time, so the third time, she brought up both hands and held the mike between them, bringing her lips close and breathing into it, creating a loud blowing sound.  She giggled, but we kept playing the intro to “Dream World,” hoping she’d jump in at some point.

Instead, she decided she had something to say.  “Hey, California.”  She giggled.  “Oh, fuck.  I mean
Florida
.  Sorry about that.  My bad.  I got you confused…but you both grow oranges and lemons, right?  And you’re both hot as fuck come July.”  She laughed at that point and I glanced over at Liz.  My fellow guitarist was fuming.  If temperature were truly a sign of anger, Liz would have caught on fire at that moment.  Barbie was making Vicki look like a poster child for clean living.  At least, in spite of all that girl’s indiscretions, she’d kept a beat throughout all our shows.  Barbie?  She was everything I’d always dreaded could happen onstage if we played too hard before show time.

“Oh, and beaches.  You have beaches.  Honestly, though, I like the ones in California better.”  She started laughing again, that loud, obnoxious, raucous laugh of hers that grated me down to my nerves.  “Did I say that out loud?  Sorry about that.”  She broke into giggles again, and Kelly gave me a questioning look, as if she was wondering when the guy with the hook was going to come to pull our frontwoman offstage.  Barbie lost her footing for a second but managed to upright herself before glancing back at Liz.  “I guess these bitches are expecting me to sing this song—so let me join in.”  She started singing the song’s first verse, but we were clearly playing the chorus.  I didn’t know if we should try to match her or just storm on.

Liz made the decision.  She stopped playing.  Well, if she was going to, then so was I—and it wasn’t long before Kelly’s low bass stopped thrumming.  Vicki’s beats followed shortly thereafter.  Barbie sang two more lines before turning to us and saying, “What?”

Liz spoke, but she was away from the mike so the audience wouldn’t hear.  “Barbie, we need you to focus.  Is there a different song you’d rather we play?”