Read Rock Hard Love Online

Authors: D. H. Cameron

Rock Hard Love (7 page)

BOOK: Rock Hard Love
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With several hours before the show, I decided to go shopping to buy something more appropriate for a rock concert than my normal office attire or the workout clothes I lounged around in at home.
It wasn’t hard to pick out a nice outfit, something I hoped James would enjoy, and I was still able to go for a run before it was time to get ready. I used to work out a lot more before I began working at Roland but since I was hired, free time was a luxury I rarely enjoyed. Still I kept myself trim and fit, eating well most of the time and going to the gym or for a run when I could.

After my run and a shower, I spent a little extra time on my hair and
makeup. I was going to a club after all and I wanted to look the part. I applied my makeup, usually just lip-gloss and mascara, maybe a little eye shadow, heavier, especially around my eyes. I didn’t do anything special with my hair, but I still made sure it was just so. After I finished in the hotel bathroom, I slipped into my new outfit. A tight, fitted, long-sleeve, t-shirt sporting Battery’s logo, bold lettering with a lightning bolt underneath, a short pleather skirt, much shorter than anything I wore to work, a real leather jacket, short with lots of buckles and zippers, and finally the black fishnets thigh highs and black, spike-heeled ankle boots. Under it all was just my normal bra and thong panties but in black, of course.

I guess I looked the part of some heavy metal diva, but what did I know
? I did look cute, however, and I hoped James would think so too. One last once over and I was satisfied. Downstairs I went to hail a cab to go see my one and only client perform and surprise him after the show. Exactly what that surprise would entail, I wasn’t sure. Part of me was ready, more than ready, to beg James to take me to bed. Another part of me was scared to death. I’d accepted the fact that even though he wasn’t my usual type, my usual type was pretty boring compared to James. Nevertheless, was I ready for the intensity of a night with James?

The problem was that he had a lot more experience than
I did and I was scared of how being with him would make me feel. Could I live up to his expectations, was I really sexy enough for a man that could have any woman he wanted and could I handle the way it would make me feel? I’d had real honest-to-goodness sex only a few times and frankly, it sucked. I didn’t know it then, but now with something to compare my previous experiences to they were rather disappointing. James had shown me there was so much more than my limited experience had taught me, but could I handle it? Could I jump in the deep end and tread water or would I drown? To make it all worse was James’ promise. He told me he was going to come inside me, something that scared the hell out of me but also made my pussy wet just thinking about.

I was on the pill, but still.
It was such an intimate act, so personal and so fucking hot! James wanted to make me his, take me fully and completely. Was I ready for that, really ready? Physically, I longed for what James promised but mentally, I wasn’t so sure. I couldn’t decide. Maybe seeing James in his element would help. Maybe I could find answers in his music or by watching him perform. Maybe not, but I was his agent, something I was already enjoying, and whether I ended up begging him to take me or I rejected him, I was going to be spending a lot of time with him and I had to play with the hand I was dealt.

I hardly realized we’d already reached the club, in deep thought the entire ride through the city.
I paid the driver and went inside. The guard stopped me at the door, but he let me in after I showed my ID, the owner apparently leaving word. Inside it was smoky and crowded. I ordered a water deciding that if James didn’t drink, neither would I. I could have gone backstage but I wanted to see the show from a fans perspective, even if these fans were mostly affluent doctors, lawyers and stockbrokers that could afford the five thousand dollar donation to get in the door. Besides, I wanted to save my surprise for later.

Finally, the lights dimmed and the stage went dark.
When the stage lights burst on again, James and Battery were on stage and broke into the big hit from their last album. It was funny to see all these thirty and forty-something professionals in leather, denim and suede banging their heads, but the energy was undeniable. James’ guitar, its likeness etched into the back window of his pickup, pumped out a heavy beat as Tommy Sullivan played the incredibly complex opening solo. Chad Reynolds, the bass player, laid down a deep bass track and Benny Ford kept it all together with his powerful drumming - I’d made sure I’d researched the band completely before leaving the office. As amazing as all that was, it rose to another level as James added his vocals.

I heard an intensity and emotion
pour from the wall of amps and speakers behind the band that I hadn’t in their recorded songs or when James played for me at his house. James was in command of the stage and he drew me and the rest of the crowd into the music and the story it told. The show brought me to my feet without my even realizing it and it appeared everyone else was standing too despite the tables and chairs scattered around the club. I made my way forward, pushing through the crowd, drawn to James. As Battery played song after forceful song and James ruled the crowd, I found myself caught up in the moment.

was covered in sweat, his guitar slung low and the muscles in his tattooed arms flexing as he played. I suddenly knew why his fingers were so adept as I watched in disbelief as they flew up and down the neck of the guitar and he picked wildly yet precisely. Only Tommy’s playing rivaled James’ in speed but not in power or emotion. Soon I was mere feet from the stage, still hoping to surprise James and unaware he had spotted me long ago. I was so caught up in the scene as the band played and the crowd went crazy, time lost all meaning. I chanted, cheered and screamed along with the rest of the fans but suddenly, it was over and like the night at James’ home, I wanted more.

Battery had played their hearts out and the crowd wanted more too, chanting for the band to continue.
James pulled off his guitar and the crowd chanted louder, but he took the microphone and quieted the mass of fans. He asked for a spotlight and after a short discussion with a roadie, the man disappeared for a moment and returned with James’ acoustic guitar. The rest of the band waited in the dark. I wondered if this was all part of the show, but I soon learned that it wasn’t.

“I’ve never done this, we’ve never done this before, but tonight is a special night.
I want to thank all of you for your donations to a worthy cause. I want you all to be the first to hear “Destroyed” unplugged. Well, not the first exactly but the first in public. You guys ready?” he shouted and the crowd went nuts. Nevertheless, within all that craziness and noise I felt like I was back in James’ house alone with him again. James stared into my eyes as if he knew I was there the entire time and he began to play.

He sang the song, just
as he had at his house, to me and me alone. The crowd could appreciate his acoustic version but not as I did. I knew suddenly that I was the woman of whom he sang. She wasn’t a specific person but an ideal and to James, I was that ideal. I still wasn’t sure why he’d chosen me, and James had refused to tell me, but I found myself thrilled to be that woman. I felt weak in the knees and I’d be lying if I told you my pussy wasn’t drooling as James sang. I felt a tear run down my cheek as he sang the mournful song.

James sang with more power and more feeling that he had all night.
Even though the acoustic version of “Destroyed” was softer and mellower than its amped up counterpart, this version packed more punch. The emotion was more insistent and it took all I had not to breakdown and cry. I looked around to see more than a few women sobbing openly and even a few of the men in the crowd appeared misty. When James finished, he bid the crowd goodnight and just before walking off stage, he turned back and nodded at me inviting me to join him backstage.

I fought through the cheering crowd
as a roadie met me and helped me on stage. Then I followed the band into a small room in the back of the club. I didn’t even acknowledge the other band members, walking right up to James and hugging him. His strong, tattoo covered arms held me tight and he kissed the top of my head as I buried my face into his chest. “That was beautiful, James,” I whispered.

“I’m glad you liked it.
We threw the arrangement together back here before we went on stage once I found out you were coming,” he admitted.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“I couldn’t track you down so I called Peter to find out what you were up to,” James explained. I hadn’t told Peter exactly what I was doing but he must have guessed. I’m glad he did. The surprise I’d planned for James turned into a surprise for me. I looked up at James and stared into his golden brown eyes.

am so going to beg you later,” I told him, sure now of what I wanted. I wanted James. I didn’t understand why he was so interested in me or why I was so attracted to him but right then, I didn’t care. I only wanted him to follow through on the torrid promise he made me as we dined at his restaurant. I wanted him inside me making me come as I screamed his name. James laughed at me and smiled warmly but in his eyes, I saw the naked desire. However, we had pleasantries to engage in. James pulled away and draped an arm over my shoulders as he faced his band mates, all of them relaxing on the two sofas in the room.

“Battery, meet your new agent,” was all he said and I wondered why he hadn’t said more but as the thought coalesced in my head he added, “and so much more to me.”




“Simone Navarro, meet Tommy Sullivan, boyhood friend and lead guitar,” James introduced me and Tommy came up and gave me a big hug.

“Nice to meet you, agent lady,” he said. Tommy was tall and lanky with a head of spiky black hair.

“And that’s Chad Reynolds, bass player extraordinaire,” James said pointing to
the shortest member of the band, but still almost six feet tall, with the thick black glasses and a shaven head.

“Hello, Simone,” was all he said before taking my hand and kissing it. He looked up, smil
ing playfully, and then winked at James before the last member of the band pushed him out of the way.

“Why is the drummer always last?” he asked of nobody in particular before taking my hand in his two strong hands and saying, “I’m Benjamin Ford.
Glad to meet you, Simone Navarro.” I giggled at his formal introduction. Benny was tall and broad, with powerful arms and wavy blonde hair.

“Nice to meet all of you,” I said as they dispersed.
Chad was teasing Benny about trained monkeys easily replacing drummers and Tommy wondered aloud why it was always Benjamin instead of Benny around the ladies. They all seemed nice enough and it was fun to watch them interact. James and I sat for a while as I got to know the rest of my clients but it wasn’t long before I turned to James and said quietly, “Don’t make me beg in front of the band, James.”

“Well, we
’ve got to go boys,” James announced as he stood and took my hand. I found his sudden enthusiasm amusing and rather exciting. My tummy was suddenly full of butterflies. The band all hugged me and told me not to be a stranger. James’ hand was on the small of my back again as he lead me from the room and out the back of the club. There was a car waiting, driver and all, and as we climbed into the back seat, no steps needed, James asked, “You’re place or mine?”

“Mine,” I said and leaned forward and told the driver where I was staying.
He started the engine and in moments, we were on our way.

“Why your room?”
James asked curiously.

“All my stuff is there.
Besides, I want you in my bed, or at least the bed I’ve rented for a few nights,” I teased. James gave me a low moan and his hand went between my knees.

“What about my stuff?” he asked playfully.

“What stuff do you need?” I wondered.

“Do you know how long it takes to get this beard looking like it does?” James asked in all seriousness.

“Uh…about two seconds,” I said and James laughed as his hand moved up under my skirt and found my bare skin above my stocking top where it lingered for a moment.

“If that.
You know, you look fucking sexy as hell in this little rocker girl get up,” James said as his fingers found my panties. “Almost as hot as you do in those sexy skirts and blouses at the office,” he added.

“You look pretty good
yourself,” I replied as his fingers deftly teased my throbbing folds and his thumb found my clit behind my panties. He was in his signature clothing, a black t-shirt, faded and worn blue jeans and those black boots of his. I imagined he had a closet full of this stuff lined up all neat and tidy and the thought made me smile. I couldn’t see him wearing anything else. Honestly, I wasn’t imagining him wearing anything at all as he teased my pussy.

James moved closer and his face was just inches from mine as he stared into my eyes and played with me under my skirt as if he was daring me to succumb.
I reached out and found the bulge in his jeans and it was bigger than I had dared imagine. Another low rumble came from James and his thumb pressed more firmly. I wondered if the driver knew what was happening in his back seat but found I really didn’t care at the moment.

“Did you mean it?” James asked and I knew what he meant.
He wondered if I meant it when I told him I was going to beg him.

BOOK: Rock Hard Love
12.92Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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