The Prince of Punk Rock (10 page)

A girl starting rifling through the shirts and haphazardly tossing them
back on the table without refolding them.

“Hi.
 
Can I help you find a
size?”

“No.
 
I’m just looking.
 
Are you the one who's married to the new
guitar player?”

“Yes, I'm Jessi.”

The limp handshake was less than cordial.

“How long have you known Angel?” The girl unfolded another shirt and
threw it down on the table.

“I didn't know him at all before this.
 
I just met him about two months ago when he called me about Tommy.”

“Well, I've known Angel forever.
 
We're very close.”

The girl was a friend of Angel’s. Maybe that explained the air of
resentment that she projected. She was exaggerating her words to make a
point.
 
Jessi didn't know if it was
because she was drunk or if she was jealous of her friendship with Angel.
 
“I'm sorry.
 
I didn't get your name.”

She stared down her nose at Jessi.
 
“You mean you don't know who I am?
 
I'm Kendall Rose.
 
I'm a
singer.
 
I should be getting a record
deal very soon with either Galaxy or Pacific.
 
I'm haven't decided which label to go with yet.”

“Well, good luck with that.”
 
Jessi wasn't impressed.
 
It
sounded like a load of bullshit, but she wasn’t about to get into a
confrontation.

Kendall
glanced down at the merchandise table.
“I would have done this for Angel. I've sold merchandise before. I grew up in
the music industry.
 
I wouldn’t have let
him pay me either.
 
I would have done it
for free.”

“Angel isn't paying me.
 
My
husband's in the band.
 
I'm not going to
take money—”. She stopped herself.
 
She
wasn't about to let
Kendall
bait her into an
argument. Jessi wanted
Kendall
to leave, but
she stayed, and rattled on in a one-sided conversation.

There were few people in this world that Jessi instantly disliked, and
Kendall
was one of them.
 
Kendall
was self-absorbed and
shallow.
 
A phony.
 
She couldn’t stop talking about herself, and
about Angel.

Jessi was far from innocent when it came to partying, but she always
managed to maintain a level of decorum.
 
Kendall
was a sloppy drunk.
 
Her clothes were trashy and her hair and
makeup were a mess.

When
Kendall
finally left the merch
table, the neat piles of shirts were now strewn about in disarray.
 
Jessi smirked in
Kendall
’s
direction and started refolding them.

“Who are you glaring at, hon?” Tommy handed her a drink and tried to
follow her gaze across the room.

“No one worth getting upset about.”
 
Jessi shook the scowl from her face and smiled at Tommy. “Thanks for the
drink, baby.”

“I feel bad. You’re stuck back here instead of mingling with everybody
and having a good time.”

“No, I’m fine!
 
A lot of people I
met at the last show are stopping by to say hello and buying shirts.
 
But, don’t worry.
 
I’m going to close up shop and be right up
front when you go on.
 
You know I’d never
miss that.”

“Thanks, honey.
 
You do such
much. I really appreciate it.”

“I’d do more if I could.”

A group of people with an excited glow approached the merch table and
introduced themselves to Tommy.
 
They
were fans.
 
Tommy had fans. Jessi didn’t
know if he was more surprised or flattered, but she was proud.
  
It’s about damn time he got the recognition
he deserved.
 
And then the girls started
lining up to meet him.
 
Luckily, she
wasn’t the jealous type and trusted Tommy’s loyalty, because groupies were part
of the rock star life, and she knew this was just the beginning.

She sold some shirts and when she looked up, Tommy was gone.
 
She scanned the room for him.
 
He was at the bar, and
Kendall
was talking to him.
 
Jessi watched them
with suspicion.
 
She couldn’t quite
identify exactly what bothered her so much about Kendall, but a persistent
little voice in her head told her that
Kendall
was trouble.

After the show, Angel spotted one of his regulars.
 
He hadn’t seen Corey in a while and,
normally, his presence would have made Angel’s dick jump in his pants.
 
Corey meant a few hours of
no-strings-attached, raunchy, uninhibited sex – until the next time Corey
showed up at one of his gigs.
 
But,
tonight, all he wanted to do was run and hide.
 
He tried to duck through the crowd with his head down, but Corey grabbed
his arm from behind.

“Where are you running off to?”

“Sorry, I just, um, I have
something I need to take care of.”
 
Angel’s response was jittery and nervous.

Corey leaned back on one leg and
raised a skeptical eyebrow.
 
“Are you
blowing me off?”

“Tonight’s not a good night.”

“Really?
 
That’s a first.”

“I’m sorry.”
 
He squeezed Corey’s arm apologetically.
 
“I gotta go.”
 
Angel darted to the bar, beads of sweat sprinkled across his forehead,
and ordered a shot of Johnnie Walker.
 
He
chugged it back and almost choked on the harsh whiskey. When he put the shot
glass down, Damien was at his side.

“Since when do you pass up a piece
of ass?”

Hesitation cut off Angel’s
answer.
 
Damien knew him too well to hide
the truth.
 
They’d been friends since
high school.
 
Damien came to his defense
when a prominent member of the wrestling team was giving him a hard time.
 
Even back then, without the rebellious
mohawk, the piercings and the gory tattoos, Damien was still intimidating.
 
It was the intensity in his eyes that warned
people that he wasn’t about to take any shit.
 
The 200 pounds of muscle that tried to bully Angel quickly backed down
and went on his way.

When Angel learned that Damien
played bass and also worshipped pioneers in punk rock like The Ramones and The
Clash, they became friends.
 
Angel was
astounded when he heard Damien play.
 
He
was fast and aggressive and he could lay down one hell of an original and
compelling baseline.
 
That’s when Angel
knew his dream of forming an old
school punk rock band was about to materialize.
 
He found Jimmy at a local bar by accident, pounding the drums too hard
and too fast for the classic rock music he was trying to play.
 
Add a kick-ass lead guitarist by way of
Jimmy’s cousin, and Immortal Angel was born.

Angel recalled the sick feeling in
his gut when Jimmy’s cousin announced he was quitting the band.
 
Now he realized it was a Godsend.
 
It opened the door for one Tommy Blade to
claim the rightful place at his side.

Damien chucked him on the arm to
get his attention. “I said, since when do you pass up a piece of ass?
 
I know that guy only comes around when he
wants to fuck you.”

Angel tried to stammer a response,
but Damien cut him off.

“Got your eye on someone else,
huh?”

“Yes, I most certainly do.”
 
Angel displayed a dreamy smile and placed his
hand on his chest.
 
“Someone else has
stolen my heart.”

Damien’s eyes turned to steel.
 
“It’s Tommy, isn’t it?
 
I told you to stay away from him. You’re
gonna fuck up our dream.”

Angel fumbled for an answer, but
Damien was right. He should have just gone home with Corey and forget about
Tommy.
 
Tommy was a married man.
 
It was just sexual chemistry that they
shared.
 
Harmless flirting.
 
But the intense
lust-filled gazes Tommy constantly bestowed upon him felt genuine.
 
The energy that transpired between them on
stage was raw and primal.
 
Off stage
wasn’t much different.
 
Subtlety wasn’t
on the menu for either one of them.
 
Still,
he should stop fantasizing about a relationship with Tommy.
 
His head knew it was the smart thing to do,
but his heart refused to listen to reason.

Jessi was
all over Tommy in the car on the way home.
 
The taxi driver kept glancing at them through the rear view mirror,
probably hoping to catch a glimpse of a blow job.
 
If Tommy didn't stop her, the driver's wish
may have come true.
 
She had too much to
drink after tonight’s show.
 
They both
did.

Jessi
shed her clothes as soon as they walked through the door. Tommy barely had his
belt off when she shoved her hand down his pants and grabbed him.
 
She pushed him against the door and gave him
a hard, beefy kiss.

He
smacked her naked butt and chased her upstairs to the bedroom.

She
jumped on the bed and pulled him down.
 
She stripped him of his pants, impatient to put her lips to his
flesh.
 
He laid back and let her glorious
mouth engulf him.
 
She sucked him hard
and strong, and held him tightly in her hand.
 
The other hand ran underneath him, and tickled him.
 
She licked her finger, and returned her hand
to his bottom and inserted one finger.
 
It was a little too dry, but the small amount of pain felt oh so
good.
 
He loved when she was aggressive
in bed.
 
She knew his body. She knew how
much pressure he loved inside him.
 
She
knew the spot that drove him mad.

Her mouth
covered him with wet kisses.
 
Her tongue
waltzed over his body in perfect tempo with her hand.
 
Music manifested inside his head and brought
him into a realm of bliss.
 
Every pore of
his body breathed heaven.
 
The air filled
his lungs deeper with each breath, until he thought he might float away.

Visions
of Angel, in his tight leather pants, popped into Tommy’s head.
 
He fantasized that it was Angel's fingers
inside him and Angel's dark black hair tickling his inner thigh.
 
He imagined that it was Angel's thick pink
tongue licking him and bringing him pleasure.
 
He imagined putting his hand on the back of Angel's head and pushing
himself deeper into the back of Angel's throat.
 
A kaleidoscope of colors exploded in his head as an orgasm took over and
shook his body.