Superstar (7 page)

“To look at you I’d never think you’d eat
that much.”

“I’m a growing boy. Besides, you know I got
enough for you too,” he said.

They sat down and Sioux tucked into a
delicious vegetarian omelet while Thad began eating sausage, eggs
and pancakes.

“I didn’t know you were a vegetarian. I was
surprised by your order last night.”

“I’m not, but I have to watch what I eat
when I tour. I tend to gain weight.”

“The way you girls danced onstage I can’t
believe you didn’t burn all that off.”

“You’ve been to our shows?” Sioux asked,
surprised. He would never have pegged him as a Honeychile fan.

“A few times. You were amazing.”

“Thanks. The hours are so crazy and
sometimes I’m too nervous to eat before a show, then afterwards I
would be ravenous. Late night eating is awful for my
metabolism.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I can see that.”

They ate the rest of their meal while mostly
talking about the tour schedule. They had two more shows in Toronto
with Chicago as their next stop. Sioux was surprised when Thad
asked her to go sailing with him when they got there, but didn’t
hesitate before agreeing.

Sioux leaned back into the brisk westerly
breeze and inhaled a lungful of fresh cool air. She looked up at
the massive white sail on the sailboat. Its stark whiteness
contrasted with cerulean blue of the cloudless sky. The brisk air
of Lake Michigan was a welcome relief from the blistering hot
Chicago day, but she couldn’t believe Thad had gotten up so early
to go out on a sailboat. She looked over at him where he stood at
the side of the boat watching other sailboats go by on the choppy
waves of the lake. When he’d first asked her to join him she
thought he would be sailing the boat, but fortunately he had
chartered it, leaving plenty of time for the two of them to talk or
just hang out together. He stepped back to where she sat on the
back of the boat.

“Are you having a good time?” he asked as he
sat down beside her. The crisp khaki shorts and aqua green polo
shirt showed off his lanky form to advantage. She was surprised by
how thickly muscled his legs were, but then remembered he played a
lot of soccer.

“Oh, this is great. Do you sail often?”

“Not as much as I’d like to. My friend owns
this company and he took me out a few years ago. I try to go out as
much as I can.”

“That’s great.”

“You know how touring is. City to city. Late
nights. Bad food. It got old for me really fast. I even thought
about quitting the band,” he said.

Sioux’s mouth dropped open. She couldn’t
imagine such a thing.

“Fortunately I realized I was visiting some
of the most amazing cities in the world. It only made sense to
enjoy them.”

She nodded. “Me and my girls always tried to
get out into the cities when we were on tour. Of course, most of
the time we were clubbing, but we did some touristy stuff too.”

“It’s not always possible. Sometimes we
don’t stay in one place long enough. And sometimes I’m just too
damned tired the next day.”

“Storm Crow does play such incredibly long
sets.”

“Concert tickets are expensive. It only
seems fair to give the people their money’s worth.”

“Yeah, but you guys look like hell when it’s
over.”

“We feel like hell too. Jon gets these
terrible headaches and Cinnamon isn’t here to help this time," he
said with a disapproving frown.

“Cinnamon? His wife?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Dude doesn’t know how to take aspirin?” she
asked with snort of derision. And they called her a diva.

Thad chuckled. “It’s more than that. I’m not
sure what’s going on with those two, but something’s up.”

Sioux was only passingly familiar with the
wife of the band’s bassist. She knew they had been together for a
long time, but other than that very little was ever said about
them. She and Thad sat together for a while longer, his arm
casually thrown across her shoulders as they rocked back and forth
with the waves of the boat.

Sioux tried to look casual and cover her
response to Thad’s closeness. His arm weighed on her shoulder like
a brand heating her flesh. His rejection the other night was
baffling as hell. She knew he was attracted to her. That was
obvious. After all, he had kissed her. And she wasn’t blind she
knew what she looked like. She’d been brushing off overtures from
men since before she hit puberty. Even now, he would glance at her
from time to time when he thought she wasn’t looking. She
recognized the hunger in his gaze, especially since it probably
mirrored her own. They’d slept together the past couple of nights
and his morning wood had made its presence known bright and early
each morning. So what the hell was wrong with the guy? She shook
her head. Well, he’d missed his chance.

“So, how did you wind up with a name like
Sioux? Are you Native American?”

Sioux laughed. “Not hardly. Indian names
were very trendy in celebrity circles around the time I was born. I
think there were no fewer than five Sioux’s in my first grade
class. There were a lot of Cherokees and Crees. Unfortunately, Kwai
got stuck with Kwakiutl.”

“Kwai from Honeychile?”

“Oh yeah. She will not answer to her actual
name under any circumstances. Her parents were both actors, child
stars from that show,
The Ties That Bind
back in the
Eighties. They were heavily into Native culture at one time. They
went to sweat lodges and spent a lot of time on reservations. My
parents were just trendy.”

“That’s right, your mother was in a girl
band too. What was the name? I remember they were huge in the
Eighties.”

“Dupree. Yes, my dad managed them. That’s
how they met. Honeychile was actually his third girl band. He had
Sugar Baby in the seventies, too.”

He whistled between his teeth. “Wow. No
pressure, huh?”

“Believe it or not, there actually wasn’t
any. My folks totally discouraged me from music, but I really
wanted it.”

“How do your folks feel about you going out
on tour with us?”

Sioux sighed and paused for a long moment to
think about what she wanted to say. An errant breeze swirled about
her head, almost taking her straw cowboy hat with it. She was
dressed similarly to Thad in loose-fitting cargo shorts and a
tropical print tank top, but the sun on the water would surely burn
her to a crisp if it got away. She reached up to secure the hat
more firmly before responding. “What do you think? They’re worried,
of course. They think I’ll relapse. They know from experience how
bad the road is.”

“What did you tell them?”

“It’s a short tour. Only thirteen shows. My
mama still wanted to come with me. I was tempted, but I’ve got to
stand on my own two feet sometime,” she said with a shrug that
indicated a casualness she didn’t feel.

“You said they were against a music career
for you anyway.” Sioux nodded. “My mother is the same way, but she
knew this is what I was going to do. I started playing when I was
so young, I don't remember wanting to be anything else. Other kids
wanted to be firemen, I wanted to be Bryan Spencer," he said then
continued in a softer tone, “Do you still want to be a star?”

Now
that
was the question and one she
didn’t really have an answer for. “I have no idea. When my parents
disbanded Honeychile and sent me off to rehab I thought my life was
over. Of course I know now that they were saving my life. But I
hated them for it. Honeychile was my life. My identity. It’s hard
to know who I am now.”

“I can see that. I’d probably feel the same
way. I just love to make music. I mean, I got incredibly lucky to
be in Storm Crow, but I could be a session musician or songwriter.
I suck at it, but I would be perfectly happy with that.”

“You do not suck as a songwriter. Your song
“Perish” is absolutely amazing. I listened to a lot of your cuts in
and out of rehab and I think you’re badly underrated.”

She watched as color rose in his face.
“Well, thanks. Bryan is the main songwriter, I just putz around a
little bit.”

“Yeah, I know and he’s great. I think that’s
part of the problem. People are so blown away by his songs, they
overlook yours.”

“You may be right. So, if you can’t be a
superstar anymore, do you still want to make music?”

“That’s a good question. For the longest
time being a star is all I thought about. I mean, we won “Sing!
Sing! Sing!” when I was like twelve and for the next decade being a
star is all I did. But, you know, getting these songs
together…thinking about music and performing and how much I love
it…yeah. I think it’ll be okay.”

He nodded and pulled her closer against him.
“Yeah, I think so too.”

The kiss when it began wasn't like their
previous kisses. It wasn't tentative or searching. They both knew
what they wanted and what to expect from the other. She knew he
loved it when she stroked her tongue across the roof of his mouth
and she did so again and again, thrilled by the shivers and growls
of his responses. She couldn't get enough of the way he tenderly
nipped at the tendons of her neck sending wave after wave of pure
lust coursing through her body.

At his invitation she climbed into his lap
until she was sitting astride of him, grinding her throbbing clit
against his heavy arousal. His hands were heavy on her hips as he
flexed his hips in response to her movements. When he pushed her
shirt up for greater access to her sun warmed flesh she welcomed
him, rejoicing in the feel of his mouth against her needy flesh.
With one hand still palming her butt, he used the other to push her
bra up until her breasts were exposed to his heated gaze...and
every boat on Lake Michigan. He leaned forward, taking her aching
nipple then almost her whole breast into his searingly hot mouth.,
She grabbed his head, his silky hair sliding through her fingers as
he turned his attention to her other breast, pushing her closer and
closer to an orgasm, and then it hit her. Her orgasm swept through
her body with a force and suddenness that left her shuddering in
its aftermath.

When she came to her senses Thad had turned
until she was flat on her back on the bench seat. He caressed the
flesh of her torso with his hands, followed closely by his lips as
he kissed a trail from her breasts to the waistband of her shorts.
When he unsnapped them she realized he planned to eat her out on a
public boat. In broad delight. With at least one other person
onboard. He had her zipper down now and was oh so close to touching
her aching pussy. For a brief moment she considered letting him.
Then she grabbed his hand.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but
we’re on a boat. In public.” He didn’t seem to hear her and she was
thrilled, then he pulled away and slid off the bench seat and onto
the floor. He sat there, his elbows on his knees while he ran his
long fingers through his hair in obvious frustration. She watched
for a while, then straightened her clothes before sitting up. She
placed one tentative hand on his shoulder and he reached up to grab
it.

“I'm sorry Sioux. I have no idea what the
hell is wrong with me. I can't keep my hands off you.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m unwilling, just not
on a lake full of people,” she said, gesturing toward the many
other vessels enjoying the water. “Not to mention your pal who’s
supposed to be driving this thing. Where is he by the way?”

“He's not an idiot. He would've made himself
scarce. I think I’ll take a walk. I'm in desperate need of
distraction.” He rose to his feet, and after placing a brief kiss
on her forehead, he walked toward the front of the boat. Before
long his friend joined him. She searched around until she found her
hat and sunglasses, then lay down. She might as well take a nap.
Thad wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon.

Thad turned on Twist with a snarl. “Jesus,
man what the hell are you playing? It’s a syncopated rhythm. We’re
supposed to sound like a freight train, not like something made by
Fisher-Price.”

“I wasn’t off-beat, that’s how we wrote
it.”

“That’s not how it was written, you’re way
off,” Thad said.

“How the hell would you know?” Jon asked.
“You weren’t even with the band when we wrote this song.”

“You’re just defending him because you’re
off too,” Thad said. “Who the hell added "Night Train" to the
playlist anyway? We never play it live.”

“You did!” Twist and Jon said in unison.
“And what the hell is your problem?” Twist continued throwing down
his drumsticks and walking over to Thad.

“I don’t have a problem, except that
suddenly you guys are playing like shit,” Thad said. “How the hell
are we supposed to have a sound check when you sound this way?”

“Damned if I’m putting up with this crap
from you, kid,” Jon said and he put his guitar back in the rack
before storming out of the room.

Thad stared after the usually mild-mannered
bassist. "What's his problem?"

“What did you expect? You’ve been acting
like a dick for the past week,” Twist snapped back.

"Yeah, but it's never bothered him
before."

"Well, he's going through some changes of
his own. I think Cinnamon wants a divorce," Twist said.

"What? That's crazy. They've been together
forever."

Twist shrugged. "I might be wrong, but
something's wrong. Speaking of, what the hell is wrong with
you?"

“I’m fine, there’s nothing wrong, just play
your parts right and there’s no problem,” Thad said.

“No problem? You just managed to piss Jon
off for fuck’s sake,” Twist said and Thad had to admit maybe he had
gone too far, but damn it he
had
been off.

Bryan hadn’t made it down for the sound
check yet. For some reason Thad, Twist and Jon were early. Normally
they got along fine, but Twist could be mercurial at the best of
times and today Thad was in no mood to be diplomatic.