Having Hope (The Blow Hole Boys Book 4) (5 page)

In the kitchen, I scrambled myself two eggs and ate standing at the counter. The place was quiet—lonely—but at least it was mine. It was the only real home I’d ever known. I didn’t need people or their affection and love. I only needed my freedom, my drumsticks, and a roof over my head. The rest could squat in my memories and eat me from the inside out.

*****

Constance came back from her honeymoon two weeks later. We went straight to work on our third album, spending most of our time in the studio. Staying busy was a great thing for me. As long as I was working, I didn’t have time to dwell on anything outside the studio.

My mental state flourished. The more days that passed after the Rock Across America tour, the less I thought about Chet. The more I worked and focused on the music, the less I thought about my past and everything I’d lost. Things were looking up, and the more we worked on our latest album, the more I knew it was going to be our best yet. 

“That shit sounds so good,” Finn praised.

It wasn’t often, but on occasion, Tiny and Finn would stop by and listen. I’d never get over hearing praise from Finn but agreed the sound was solid, and I knew our fans would love it.

I smiled to myself as I watched them outside the recording booth nodding their heads to my beats. Having the respect of the Blow Hole boys meant a ton to us.

Minus Chet.

Of course.

He could go suck on a sweaty sack as far as I was concerned.

We wrapped the album a month later and started on promotion with the label soon after that. Life fell into its own rhythm. I’d work, spend time with the girls, and then I’d go home to my lonely apartment and dwell on the past.

It wasn’t healthy, but nothing about my lifestyle was.

The drugs.

The drinking.

The inner anger and rage.

I used those things to drown out the cries from my past. It was my way to forget all the stupid decisions I made. Living my life busy and out of control kept me sane, and that mattered more than my physical health.

Men pushed themselves on me. They all wanted a piece of the drummer. Some women even tried to get a piece of me. They all thought because I was quiet and strange that I was wild in bed. Little did they know I wasn’t a freak in the sheets. I barely had any experience at all. Even if I was experienced, I wasn’t down for sex with anyone … man or woman.

Some nights, I’d fall asleep with my hand down my pants, my fingers moving over my sensitive bundle of nerves and bringing me a release that would relax my body. On those nights, my anger toward Chet would wane, and I’d imagine he was touching me.

In my imagination, he would whisper demands and make me beg. In my imagination, he would touch me where my body needed to be touched and make me come so hard I’d cry out his name in my empty apartment.

It worked.

Solitude.

Anger.

Masturbation.

My drums.

It all worked.

So when the girls wanted to get together to celebrate the completion of album number three, I was all for a party. I drove over to Lena’s place, which was ten minutes from my apartment, and when I entered, the girls were already screaming with joy and celebrating loudly with hugs.

“What’s going on? What’s all the excitement about?”

The girls turned my way, their eyes full of joy and their smiles big.

“We’re going on tour again,” Twiggy said as she clapped out her happiness.

I loved touring. Not that I’d been on many tours. A small one followed by Rock Across America, which was huge. But being on tour meant staying busy, and staying busy meant not thinking about my past. Not thinking about the things that destroyed me.

I joined the girls in their joy, already planning what I needed to pack. Last time we toured, I had forgotten some essentials that I wasn’t going to forget again.

“Oh, my God, this is going to be so fun.” Lena giggled. “And lucky you, Constance, you get to spend the entire tour with your new hubby.”

And just like that, all the happiness and excitement was sucked from the room. The walls closed in, hovering at my sides and squishing me. The air around us grew thick with anxiety, and my heart sped up with panic.

“What do you mean?” I asked, trying to mask my worry.

Lena turned my way, her eyes shining and her cheeks flushed. “We’re headlining
with
Blow Hole! Oh, my God, the crowds are going to be fucking huge.”

Their chatter turned to white noise, and sweat popped from my pores, covering my face in a slick sheen.

I’d barely made it through the last tour with Blow Hole. I wasn’t sure I could do it again … especially right after the last one. It had only been a few months since the last tour. I was still coming down from the deep depression and anger I’d hoarded around for the two-month tour.

There was no getting out of it. I had to suck it up and go with the flow since it was my job. I had to think about more than just my sanity. I had to think about what was good for my family… the girls. And if that meant putting myself in the path of a hollow point bullet, then so be it.

I’d remember.

I’d explode.

I’d die.

But while I was doing all those things, I’d play the fuck out of my drums and help my girls make it to the top.

The Bad Intentions tour started on a Saturday in Seattle. The venue we were playing was twice the size of anything we’d played before. The crowds were large and wild, trying to climb onto the stage and fighting in the front row. Women even pulled their shirts over their heads and showed their goods.

A smoky haze covered the crowd like a sheet, making it look as if we were playing among the clouds. It was appropriate considering the crowd made us feel like stars. It was fucking amazing.

By that first night, I had a pretty brunette in the back room of the venue we were playing. She was a groupie. I’d seen her before, and because she was recognizable to me meant she followed our shows. That was fine by me. If she wanted a piece of me, she could have it.

Women liked me.

It was my gift.

It was my curse.

“Ah, fuck,” I moaned.

My head rolled back on my shoulders as I received the best blowjob ever. Of course, every blowjob I got was the best I’d ever had. It was a fucking blowjob. Unless she used her teeth and gnawed on my junk, it was good. A mouth on my cock and balls would never be bad.

My back pressed into the wall behind me as I pressed my fingertips against the back of her skull until she gagged. Her throat closed around me like a hug and the pleasure in my balls spiked.

Thick saliva coated my junk and dripped from underneath as she continued to suck as if her life depended on it. She was a fucking champ.

“More,” I demanded.

She sucked me deeper, taking me completely, and I hissed when she pushed her finger deeper into my ass. The sensations of her mouth on my cock and her middle finger swirling in my asshole were amazing.

She was a keeper … if I was into keeping, which I wasn’t. But it was rare to find a woman who stuck a finger in your ass and knew how to use it.

“Get ready for it, baby,” I warned.

Some women didn’t mind a little Chet shot in the back of their throats. Some women did. Something told me Ass Fingerer was all for it. And when she deep throated my shaft and began to hum, I knew it was go-time, and she was game.

My fingers tingled from the pressure I was putting on the back of her head as I unloaded down her throat. Like the champ I knew she was, she swallowed it all, sucking my juices from my body like an expensive wine.

When I was finished, her finger slipped from my ass and sent another jolt of pleasure down into my balls. The wall held me up as my body melted against it.

“Damn, baby,” I cooed, tucking her curled hair behind her ear. “That was amazing. That was really fucking amazing.”

She looked up at me with a smile before standing and swiping at the corners of her mouth.

“You taste good.”

I nodded. “I know.”

I noticed movement from the corner of my eye, and I turned to see Hope standing in the doorway staring back at us with her usual disgusted expression. Her eyes moved over me before landing on my deflating cock. Instantly, it sprang to life again right before her eyes.

She looked up at me and shook her head as if she was shocked.

What I was doing wasn’t shocking. Everyone knew my game, and I was sure Hope knew, too.

“You want dibs on this?” I asked her, pointing down at my fresh hard-on. “I can take both of you no problem, but only if you girls show me some hot scissoring action.”

I was only half joking. I knew I couldn’t fuck with Hope. I knew the consequences of fucking people who were close to your friends, but still, it was fun joking around about it. Plus, I couldn’t lie; if she agreed, I’d totally watch these two go at it.

“I’m down if she is,” Ass Fingerer said with a grin.

“You’re disgusting, Chet,” Hope spat.

I chuckled. “Oh, come on. You’ll love it. You just bump your cunts together until you get off. It’s sexy. I promise.”

“Fuck you,” she said, turning away.

Again, I snickered.  “Deal. Let’s do this.”

I reached into my back pocket like I was searching for a condom, and when I looked back at the door, Hope was gone.

“She your girlfriend?” Ass Fingerer asked.

“Nope. I don’t really do the girlfriend thing. Listen,” I started as I tucked my cock into my jeans and zipped them, “this was fun. Thanks, babe.”

“Anytime,” she purred. “It was nice meeting you.”

I reached out and grabbed a handful of her ass. “It was definitely nice meeting you.”

She kissed me on the cheek before we parted ways just outside the room we’d used.

I didn’t get her name.

I didn’t need it.

I was sure I’d see her again unless she was finally satisfied she’d gotten a taste of me, but it wasn’t like I’d ever fuck with her twice. I couldn’t take the chance of any girls developing feelings and all that bullshit.

It was raining, of course, when I left the venue and started toward our bus. Seattle was always so fucking wet. After living in South Carolina all my life before moving to California, I was accustomed to the sun on my skin. That rarely happened in Seattle.

I missed the East Coast—the roots of the large oaks and the mossy canopies. I missed the palms on Isle of Palms and the Carolina coastline. I missed the sense of home that I couldn’t seem to get from California—the sense of belonging even though I’d never really had a family there.

The boys didn’t seem to miss it. Probably because their homes were with their families … their wives and kids, but I didn’t have that. Therefore, home was nowhere. I wasn’t even sure if I could feel that back in South Carolina, but once the Bad Intentions tour was over, I was going to go back and see.

I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings as I whistled on my way to the guys. My brain mingled on memories of my past and the way things were before everything changed. Even with the heaviness on my chest, I felt relaxed. Maybe it was because I was still pumped from our show earlier. Maybe it was because I’d just unloaded in some chick’s mouth. Either way, I felt lighter.

I spotted Hope headed my way when I was almost at the bus. She was walking with a determined stride, her face turned away as if she didn’t notice me in her path. She ignored me. It was what she did, but I was the kind of man who enjoyed being ignored. Even if she only threw hatred my way, I still wanted her attention.

“Did you enjoy the show?” I called out as we approached each other.

My laughter echoed in the cooling air around me.

She could take my question a few ways. Either I was asking her if she enjoyed our show earlier in the night, or I was asking if she’d enjoyed the mini porn I’d performed not fifteen minutes before in the venue.

She didn’t respond.

Instead, she continued to trek in my direction, her attention glued on whatever was to her left, which was nothing.

“Left you speechless, huh?” I joked. “That happens to the best of ‘em. Don’t let it get you down, baby.”

And then she stopped and looked at me, her dark eyes burning holes through my body like laser beams from three feet away. I’d stopped walking, too, as I waited for her response.

“I’m not your fucking baby,” she spat.

Exhilaration flew through my veins. I loved a good argument, especially with a woman like Hope. I was so used to her ignoring me that even her angry words sent a jolt of joy through me.

“She speaks.” I gasped in exaggeration. “I can’t believe it. That’s twice today.”

She shook her head in aggravation.

“Don’t get used to it,” she said as she began to step around me.

Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her. Her skin was soft and warm beneath my fingertips, and her scent mixed with the rain was more than amazing.

She ripped her arm from my grasp and spun around on me, rainbow colored strands stuck to her wet cheeks.

“Don’t ever fucking touch me again. Got it?”

Her chest heaved with her deep, angry breaths. Her tiny fists were balled up at her sides like she was waiting to take a swing at me. The raw hatred—the heat from her wrath—was such a turn-on. It was hot. Actually, it was fucking sexy.

My cock twitched behind my zipper, lengthening as it grew.

I held my hands up in defeat and suppressed my laughter.

“Fine. I won’t touch you again.” I leaned in closer and breathed her in. “At least not until you ask me to.”

She chuckled sarcastically. “That will
never
happen.”

“Why? Because you’re immune to men?” I moved closer, aware of her tiny fists. Her sweet scent and the cleansing rain moved over me. “Let me ask you something, Hope. And I’m being completely serious. Are you a lesbian?”

She gaped at me, her eyes and mouth wide.

“Because if you are, I have no problem whatsoever sharing a hot plate of wet pussy with you.” I smirked. “Tell me your type and I’ll find us a girl. You can call it a peace offering.”

Her eyes narrowed, her teeth showing as she gritted them together.

“You disgust me.”

I laughed.

The women who weren’t fucking me were always disgusted by me. It was more about them than it was about me.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I responded.

I’d wondered before if maybe Hope was a lesbian, but then I’d see her creeping around with another dude from some other band with that just-had-sex look, and I wasn’t so sure. Maybe she was like me. Maybe she swung all kinds of ways. Either way, I knew I’d gotten under her skin, which was what I’d set out to do from the moment I’d seen her walking my way.

She moved to go around me once more, and I stopped her again, pulling my hands from her arm just as quickly as I’d put it there.

I knew girls like Hope, and I knew she wouldn’t hesitate to knock the shit out of me.

“Is there a reason why you hate me so much?”

It wasn’t what I meant to ask, but it came out without much thought.

For months, I’d wondered where her hatred had stemmed from. If I had done something, I truly didn’t know I’d done it. What I did know was the animosity she held against me made things uncomfortable for the guys and the girls of Red Room Sirens. They never mentioned it, but it was obvious to everyone around us that Hope had issues with me.

“Who says I hate you?”

“Stop the shit, Hope. It’s obvious.”

She sighed in aggravation and rolled her eyes toward the weeping sky.

“Just because I don’t open my vagina hole for you every second of every day doesn’t mean I hate you. Just because I don’t drop to my knees and blow you like your cock is chocolate-covered gold doesn’t mean I hate you. Just drop it, Chet.”

Thinking of her doing all the things she’d just mentioned was the cherry on top. My cock was hard and ready. I reached down and adjusted myself through my jeans for comfort, but the outline of my cock was more than visible.

Her eyes moved over my dick, and it throbbed at her attention.

“Seriously?” she asked.

Oh, yeah. I was always serious when it came to my dick.

“What?” I asked with a shrug. “Fighting with you gets me hard, but when you go and start talking about blowing me and fucking me, it gets worse.”

This time, when she moved to go around me, she threw her shoulder into my side like a tiny football player. It was funny, so I laughed.

Turning, I watched the sway of her ass in her ripped jeans as she power-walked toward the venue. Chains hung from her pockets, clinking in the rhythm of her walk.

Sexy. As. Fuck.

I wouldn’t do it because I didn’t want to cause any issues within the group, but the desire to fuck Hope was growing. Her little fits of rage were a turn-on, and when I closed my eyes, I could imagine her taking that rage out on me as she power rode the fuck out of my cock.

*****

The following day, we left Seattle and headed to our next show in Vegas, Sin City. I slept through most of the ride, but it was hard to get any fucking sleep with Tiny and Constance in the back room fucking and Zeke and Finn pining away for their wives.