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Authors: Stevie J. Cole

Rush (Pandemic Sorrow #2) (4 page)

BOOK: Rush (Pandemic Sorrow #2)
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Chapter 6

I loved performing. I loved watching the crowd scream out the lyrics to our songs, the look of adoration frozen on their faces. And the best part of it all, really, was the fact that with just a touch I could cause some of those girls to cry, scream, and threaten to pass out.

The entire audience was shouting the lyrics to the song, phones were up recording, cameras were flashing. Stone was ripping on his guitar; he was completely in the zone, eyes closed, head nodding in rhythm with Pax’s drums. Jag was belting out the lyrics, standing close to the edge of the stage so hands could grab him.

I walked to the side of the stage, continuing to shred out chords on my bass. As soon as I got three feet from the edge, hands shot up, shaking and reaching to touch me. I knelt down and had fingers digging into every part of my body that could be reached. It was only when I was this close that I could really make out the faces in the crowd; the lights weren’t blinding me and I could see eyes glued to me. Moments like that gave every single one of us a god complex. I stayed there, thoroughly enjoying the groping, until the climax of the song, then I jumped up and ran back to center stage to meet Jag. Stone walked over and the three of us all focused down on our guitars, ripping out the notes together. Then we all took off running in opposite directions.

As the last note faded out, all the lights directed off of us and out onto the audience before cutting off and leaving the arena in complete darkness. I was panting, trying to catch my breath from running around the stage.

The vibrations from the crowd tore through me like a tiny earthquake, like the most precious bass shaking through your body. This—
this
is why I chose music. The fans, the high; I chose it because there was nothing else that could compare to thousands of people screaming for you. It was my job to please fans. And I made sure I did in every single thing I did, on and off stage, sometimes to the extreme.

The grey fog billowed across the stage, and we all gave one last wave before exiting.

I removed my ear plug so I could enjoy the continued roar of the crowd echoing down the corridor. Sweat trickled down my forehead, strands of my hair were matted to my face, and a few pieces were plastered to my lip. One of the calluses on my finger had split open halfway through the show, causing a throbbing pain to shoot up my hand. I loved every bit of it.

Jag jumped up, slapping the exit sign with his palm as he shouted.

I laughed and smacked Stone on the back. “Dude, did you see that girl in front of me? She started making out with the girl beside her, then she turned to me and pretended like she was slobbing on a big, fat cock.” Arching a brow, I laughed again. “Unlike that chick your brother was ready to jerk one off to.”

Jag turned back and motioned like he was tugging on his dick. “Whatever, man.”

Jag pushed open the door to the dressing room and the screams of the crowd finally faded.

“Dude, that chick hates you!” I laughed and smacked Jag on the back. “Like, she would take your dick, peel it like a banana, and puree that bitch in a blender.”

He slowly glanced over at me, his jaw twitching. “She just
thinks
she hates me. If she doesn't want me, well, she's just angry at fucking life.” He plopped down on the couch, leaned over the table, and pushed out a few lines. Hovering over the coke, his eyes shot up at me. “I'm not worried about her.” He sucked back a line. “Not at all.”

“Well, her sister was pretty hot. Feisty.” I bit down on my lip. “I bet she would be fun. How ‘bout when you finally win that one over, you put in a word for me with her sister, huh?”

Stone had already ripped his wet shirt from his body and was pulling another one on. “Ah, and now comes the second best part of playing rock stars,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

I nodded and at the same time we sang out, “Suck-and-fuck!”

Pax guzzled back a beer and wiped his mouth. “Jag, why the hell did you dedicate a song to that bitch?”

Jag shrugged. “To embarrass her.”

Pax stumbled over toward us, laughing, as he swiped his hand over his short hair to flick sweat onto Jag.

“Get the hell away from me, fucker.” Jag shoved Pax and he fell back, tripping over one of the tables and crashing onto the floor. “I don't want your sweat all over me.”

I nudged Pax with my shoe as I went to the couch. He swatted at my leg as he got up and walked across the room.

Jag dragged out three lines using his pick, then he handed me a straw.

Stone plopped down on the couch, a mischievous grin curving over his mouth. “Sometimes I don't know who's the bigger whore, you or Jag.” He turned and pointed at Pax. “Hey, dickhead, get me a beer, would you?”

Pax slammed the fridge shut, the glasses inside clinking together. “I'm not your fucking bitch. Get it yourself.”

Stone tossed his head back and groaned. “God, you are such a whiny asshole sometimes, Pax.”

“Paxton is always a bitch,” Jag bellowed before snorting another line.

Glaring at Jag, Pax moaned, “Shut the fuck up, before I punch you in the face.”

Jag smirked and wiped the residue from under his nose. “Okay, Paxton. Sure. When you grow a pair of big boy balls, I'll let you deck me right in the face.” He leaned back on the couch and groaned. “Dipshit.”

Pax mumbled something under his breath and popped open his beer.

I found sick amusement in the mutual hatred between Jag and Pax. For as long as I could remember, Jag had despised him. The first time Stone had brought Pax over, Jag called him a bitch, and at the time Pax had only been fourteen. I swear, tears bubbled up on his gimpy-looking face, and from that moment on, Jag saw a weakness and he went crazy with it. Of course, I had to jump on board with my best friend. We’d spent ten years torturing the guy for own sick pleasure.

Stone stood up and shrugged. “Anyway, Rush, I love that you always find time to make out with some random chick on stage. I think it really gives the fans a reason to fight over who gets to be in the front.” He turned his can up, loudly gulping back beer.

I shoved Jag over, sat down, leaned over a line, and sniffed it back. “Yeah,” I laughed, as the gritty powder trickled down my throat. “I figure they worked really hard to get up there, the least I could do is ram my tongue down their throats. I'm just a fucking sweetheart, aren't I?”

Jag punched me in the arm. “Better do it then. After the show you'd just be licking my jizz off their mouths.”

All the guys laughed, then Jules banged on the door. “Are you guys coming or not? I can't stand out here with these dumb bitches any longer!”

“Yeah, yeah, Tink. Get your fucking fist outta your cunt, would you?” Jag groaned as he got up from the couch.

Pax crumpled his beer can before tossing it on the floor. He let out a deafening belch and walked toward the door. “Come on, men. Let's head back to the whore room, shall we?”

The rubber soles of our boots clomped down the hallway. We made as much noise as possible. If the girls could hear us coming, it got their nerves worked up sooner, and that made the entire ordeal more fun.

At the end of the hallway Jules was propped against the door, and my eyes were glued to her the entire time I walked toward her.

When we reached her, she pushed away from the wall and stuck her arm out, blocking us from the room where the extra privileged fans were waiting. “Don't be jerks, okay? Don't get us sued. Just bust your nuts, make their night, and let's get the fuck outta here. I am so ready to get home.” Her eyes made a quick dart over to me before focusing on the rest of the guys. “I’m gonna have to spend enough time with you assholes over the next few months, I don’t want to unnecessarily draw out one of my last nights of freedom.”

“Aww, Jules, you don't mean that, do you?” I brushed a short piece of hair behind her ear and she swatted me away, then punched me in the chest.

“You touch me again, I'll grab your balls and twist. Got it?”

Rolling my bottom lip under my teeth, I let out a low growl. “Promise? I told you I like kinky shit.”

She sighed and reached for the door.

Jag glanced over at me, his lips curling up into one of those smiles he'd get before he really pissed Jules off. He loved getting her all riled up. We all did.

“Hey, Tink.”

“For the love of God, stop calling me that!”

He shrugged. “How about…I don't.”

She swung at him and he ducked.

A smirk fell over his face, and he laughed again. “How much you want to bet I could get two of those girls in there to suck my dick at the same time? Hell, I bet they suck me off while Rush hits them from behind. You should really try it out sometime, you might like it.”

Jules let out a loud groan. “I’ve got to find another job. Out of all the bands I’ve worked with, you guys are hands down the most
disgusting
and annoying!”

There she went with that word again.

She flung the door open, shaking her head as she motioned us in.

I couldn’t resist smacking her ass when I strutted past her, which provoked another aggravated huff.

God, I love pissing her off.

I shook Jag’s shoulder. “Dude, I wouldn't be making any more bets for a while. You lost that one you made with your brother. That girl fucking hates you,” I taunted.

He flipped me a bird as he strutted into the room, raising his hands out like he expected applause.

“Well,” Jules grumbled, “have fun. We gotta pack it up in an hour, so hurry it the hell up, okay?”

I caught her glancing at me, then over at the girls before she shut the door behind her.

Sometimes, it seemed like this shit got to her, and I felt guilty because I
wanted
this to bother her. Every fucking time, I wanted it to hurt her because she wouldn’t even give me a damn chance. She hurt me, I needed to hurt her. I was childish like that sometimes.

I scanned over the group of girls standing in the middle of the room. Every single one of them had a nervous, fame-struck glaze coating their face. When we entered the room they all fell silent and stared at us; eyes pulsing open and grins deepening, giggles seeping out from a few of them as they nervously adjusted their skirts, hair, breasts.

Jag raised his arms up above his head like he wanted applause, and then he stepped forward. “A few rules. Of course, no pictures, and we reserve the right to deny that
any
of this ever happened if we need to; that shit was in those waivers you signed. And most importantly, we have to leave in an hour, so foreplay’s not gonna happen—well, no foreplay other than having your slippery lips slurp back my dick.” He laughed, and each of the girls swooned a little. “I can fuck one of you, or I can fuck all of you—that’s just up to you. But I pick who goes first.”

“Well, I’m only gonna fuck one of you,” Stone mumbled, reaching out for one of the brunettes. “You.” She giggled as he yanked her to him and stroked his hands through her hair.

I didn’t care which one I got. They wanted this opportunity to touch fame, to get as personal with it as they could. This was a fantasy for each and every one of them, and there was nothing I could do to change that. I could have been as rude, crude, and as much of a dick as I wanted to be to them, and I still would have had them spreading their legs wide open and begging me to fuck them. And when I let myself think about that, it was pretty degrading, for both parties involved.

To them, I was a shot at fame, a bragging right. For a second, when my cock was buried deep inside them, they were famous too. And to me, well, they were just a more entertaining option than jerking one off.

I approached the one closest to me. She brushed her shiny, pitch-black hair behind her shoulder as each side of my mouth slowly turned up. “What’s your name?”

“Sunshine,” she said in a breathy voice.

I laughed and twisted the ends of her silky hair around my fingertip. “You do realize what you’re doing, right?”

One of her eyes narrowed in a confused glare and she nodded. “Uh, yeah. I know exactly what I’m doing.” A loud breath escaped her and she placed her hand on my jaw, her fingers trembling. “Once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Before I could stop it, an agitated groan flew up my throat. I grabbed her shoulders and spun her around so she could see how this was going to play out.

The other guys were in different parts of the room, and most of the girls were already on their knees with dicks shoved in their mouths, with the exception of Stone, who already had the girl naked and straddling him, furiously bouncing up and down. That fucker didn’t usually waste time.

“This is in no way intimate,” I whispered, as my hand trailed down the side of her neck and found its way under the collar of her shirt.

She turned back to face me and shrugged. “And I don’t care. A girl’s allowed to make a stupid decision once in her life, right? And if I’m going to have a one-night stand, it’s gonna count.”

I pulled my bottom lip underneath my teeth and let my eyes roll over her body. Inching my face toward hers, I growled, “So, what you’re telling me is that letting me fuck you is a
stupid
decision?”

BOOK: Rush (Pandemic Sorrow #2)
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