Warlord Metal (5 page)

The resulting smile lit up the room as the teenager said, "Sure! That'd be cool!" She dropped the section she'd been reading and began searching through the rest of the paper on the table.

For about the billionth time, Jordan mourned the circumstances of the girl's birth. The kid's a hot little number, I'll give her that! she thought idly as she watched. Long legs, beautiful curves.... And those eyes! Mmm mmm mmm, Jordie.... Way too bad she's straight! She sipped her coffee and the other little voice, the dark one, spoke up, Maybe she just hasn't met the right woman, huh? Unbidden images and feelings coursed through the smaller woman - the sight of that long, dark hair fanning across her abdomen, those lips caressing her in the most intimate of ways, the low voice thick with need as it begged for release, the sensation of warm nipples stiffening into peaks under her palms.

This last feeling caused Jordan's hands to actually twitch, spilling hot coffee on her belly and shorts. "Fuck!" she cursed, setting the cup on the counter with an angry thump.

Sonny was up and across the room in an instant, a hand towel from the counter in hand. She blotted the shorter woman's stomach dry, studying the red mark closely. "I don't think it was hot enough to burn too much," she said as she worked.

"I'm fine," Jordan said gruffly, batting her hands away. "Just pissed." That and wanting to fuck your brains out! When Sonny didn't immediately back off, the guitarist snatched the towel from her hands and stepped back. "I'm fine," she insisted, swallowing the overwhelming desire to take the girl right there against the kitchen counter.

A confused look of hurt crossed the teenager's face. Jordan's anger and intense eyes caused a flutter in her belly. She dropped her eyes. "Sorry," mumbled, getting a little ticked off as well. "Just trying to help."

Score another one for Horny Jordie! The woman stood still with eyes closed as she fought to gain some sense of control over her temper and libido. She sighed deeply and shook her head. "I know. Didn't mean to snap," she offered after a deep, steadying breath. "I was more startled than anything." Ah, the lie is so easy, isn't it?

Sonny peered at her from beneath dark bangs, slightly mollified. "You sure you're okay?" she pressed.

With a lopsided grin, Jordan winked at the girl. "I'm okay, mother."

The teenager blushed and ducked her head with a smile. "I'll remember that next time you don't eat your vegetables," she joked, moving back to the dining room table.

"Hey, what's going on?" a new voice asked.

The two turned to see the blonde woman standing in the kitchen. Her hair was up in a messy bun and her makeup had been freshly applied after her shower.

Jordan had planned on calling a cab and sending the woman away. Another flash of dark hair, whispering moans and silky wetness put a stop to that. Turning on all her considerable charm, she smiled warmly and stepped forward, into the other woman's arms. "Just tried to scald my stomach, that's all," she purred.

"Oh, no!" the woman said with concern. Long fingernails painted fire engine red gently traced the reddened area on Jordan's abdomen. "Are you okay?"

The guitarist leaned up and whispered into her ear, "Feeling horrible. Wanna kiss it and make it better?" She nuzzled the ear, raking her teeth across the lobe. The sharp intake of breath gave her the answer she wanted. She led the tall blonde outside, pausing only long enough to grin at Sonny.

The dark teenager wasn't pleased with the interruption. She scowled at the intimate flirting going on in front of her, resuming her seat. Get a grip, girl! she scolded herself. Sonny smiled weakly back at the guitarist as the couple left.

Sitting in the quiet house, her mind and emotions a turmoil, the teenager stared off into space. Unable to make heads or tails of what she was experiencing, she shook her head and forcibly brought herself back to the present. "Crossword," she muttered. "Where's the crossword?"

Aug 16, 1999

Jordan almost blew up this morning. Boy, she has a hair trigger temper! She spilled some coffee on herself and really got pissed. I think she was more mad at herself for being so klutzy, though. I know I would have been.

It's still morning. Tom's up and roaming around. Number 23 and Jordan are probably going at it as I write. Jeez! And I thought Lando was a hound dog when it came to women! I do have to admit, though, I am curious - I mean, I learned all the normal stuff from sex ed at school... But how to women do it? Is it like... mutual masturbation?

I also wonder what Jordan's not getting. Why else would she go through girls like underwear? I think she needs to fall in love with somebody. It's not the sex she's looking for, it's the intimacy. I hope she finds it someday. She's a nice person underneath all that 'I'm a Bitch' 'tude she's got going.

Rehearsal's this afternoon and then we're going out to dinner for my birthday. I'm sixteen now... Doesn't feel much different from yesterday, really. Oh, well. I think I'll go get my license and drive Tom's insurance rate up! Ha ha ha!

As the Honda pulled up to the dilapidated warehouse the band used for rehearsals, it sputtered and died.

"Damn it!" Middlestead growled, hurriedly stomping on the clutch to keep the vehicle's forward momentum going. Fortunately, he had been pulling into a parking spot and it was nothing to just coast right into position.

"What happened?" his sister asked, studying the dials on the dashboard. Maybe I don't want to learn how to drive this thing!

"Dunno," the man grumbled. He futzed with the brake, securely parking the car. A few tries on the ignition only resulted in a growling noise. "Shit."

Sonny sighed. "Well, it's no big deal. We can always bus it for tonight," she suggested.

Middlestead sat back in a huff, glaring ominously at the steering wheel. "Yeah, I guess." Not quite willing to let it go, he leaned forward again and grabbed the key. "You go on inside. Tell 'em I'll be there in a sec."

"Okay," the teenager agreed, releasing her seatbelt. She clambered out of the Honda and slammed the door behind her, hearing the motor struggle laboriously. Just as she opened the warehouse door, the car roared to life. She turned to grin over her shoulder, taking one step into the warehouse without looking. Her brother grinned and winked at her and she waved before turning back to the foyer.

"SURPRISE!!!"

Appropriately startled, Sonny jumped, pale eyes wide as she stared at the sight before her.

A group of smiling people surrounded a table. There was a tablecloth draped over it and a sheet cake, ablaze with candles, on one side. The other side held a small mound of gifts. Balloons were tied at the four corners and a banner hanging overhead proclaimed, 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SONNY!'

She blinked back sudden tears as Lando Atkins and Jordan began the traditional birthday song, metal style, and Middlestead came up behind her.

"Happy birthday, sis," he said with a grin, draping a long arm over her shoulder.

Playfully, the teenager slapped his shoulder. "You set this up!" she accused. As he nodded smugly, she hugged him and whispered, "Thanks."

Middlestead returned the hug. "It's not much," he apologized. "But Mom and Dad would've killed me if I didn't do something special for your sweet sixteenth."

Sonny squeezed him tightly. "You did great," she murmured.

The song came to a crashing finish as the two guitarists tried to outdo each other for a grand finale. The rest of the party-goers stood and stared blankly at them, their singing done and waiting for the accompaniment to stop. When it seemed that there was no end in sight, the bassist, Max Hampton, strode forward and disconnected the power supply.

Silence rang through the warehouse.

"Thank you," a small redhead with a fussy baby said.

"Rita!" Sonny exclaimed. She released her brother to run over to the girl, a tall blond man in an Army dress uniform nearby.

Jordan sat alone on the edge of the stage, watching the festivities. It hasn't been too bad, as birthday parties go. Not a lot of overly emotional people gushing over each other in saccharine happiness, anyway. She munched idly on a piece of chocolate cake.

She knew most of the people here. The band members and the usual hangers on that attended regular rehearsals, a couple of groupies that Atkins had invited, and the married couple with the kid. It had been hella to see Chris Fleming again. He and the band had jammed a little bit - at least until his daughter started to cry and he called a halt to appease her tender ears.

Still wish I could at least have a beer, she sighed, taking another bite of cake. The thought of cake and beer together caused her to frown. Okay.... Maybe some blow, then.... Another sigh and she washed the last of the cake down with a Pepsi. She scratched an itch underneath the wool knit cap on her head, watching the Birthday Girl playing with a five month old.

After awhile, Atkins wandered over and plopped down beside her. "Man, I'm stuffed!" he groaned.

Jordan smirked at him. "Where's your girlfriends?"

The tall man lay back until he was on his elbows. He waved vaguely in one direction. "Powdering their noses or something."

"Probably 'or something'."

"Ya know, you're right," he said, sitting up again. He brushed his long brown hair back from his face and looked at the woman intently. "What is it that you women do in a bathroom that takes hours on end, anyway?" he asked.

With an incredulous stare, Jordan said, "And you think I'd know?"

Atkins rolled hazel eyes. "That's not what I meant, Jordan." He shook his head. "Yer a girl! You can get into the women's bathroom and I can't." His eyes became distant and the corners of his mouth quirked up a bit. "Well, maybe 'can't' isn't the right word."

"And what is the right word?" the woman asked with a coolly raised eyebrow.

Atkins chuckled. "Okay. You go in there all the time when the babes are 'powdering their noses.' What the hell does it mean, though?"

Jordan leaned back and considered her response. "Well," she drawled. "It's been my experience that they're doing one of three things. First..." and she held up a finger, "...doing upkeep on their makeup, just like they said. Second...." Another finger joined the first one. "They're discussing how best to jump your bones." She stifled a chuckle at Atkins' smug look. "Or third, they're trying to figure out a way to ditch you without being too bitchy about it."

The guitarist's face screwed up in concentration as he seriously considered her last statement. He apparently came to some sort of loggerheads with himself from his facial features.

Unable to help herself, Jordan chuckled and leaned over to smack him on the arm. "It's probably the first one, dude," she said. "Makeup's a pain in the ass to keep up."

"Oh." He tried to hide his relieved look. "Say, if you're not doing anything tonight..." he offered, wiggling his eyebrows with a leer. "We had a blast last month with the twins. And I know Rachel has been eyeballing you tonight."

In her mind's eyes, Jordan saw the two women that had accompanied Atkins to this little party. A redhead and a brunette, both leggy and busty and just what the doctor ordered. A memory of pale eyes smiling blotted the vision out. She heaved a sigh and reluctantly shook her head. "Naw. Not tonight. I promised the Birthday Girl a little one on one with a crossword puzzle."

Atkins nodded in understanding and both of them turned their attentions to the dark teenager who was now talking with Lamont Atkins, the bar owner and the guitarist's father.

"Damn! You know, I've known that brat since she was ten?" he asked idly. "She's growing up mighty fine."

"I'll say," Jordan agreed. She felt eyes on her and leveled a cool gaze in return.

"You know she's off limits," the man said, his voice a trifle flat.

"Well, duh, Lando," the woman responded scornfully. "Jailbait's nice to look at and nice to dream about, but shit! Like I wanna get tossed outta my room, my band and have statutory rape charges pending!" She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Get a fucking clue..."

The man chuckled sheepishly. "Well, you know. We're all kinda protective of her."

You should be, the woman thought. You've got a wolf in the fold and you don't even know it. She could hear the voice inside, howling and laughing. She merely nodded in agreement with him. Looking back over the party, she said, "Looks like your girls are back."

Atkins saw them as well and rose to his feet. As he stepped away, he looked over his shoulder with a lopsided grin. "Crossword ain't gonna take all night, ya know. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Jordan watched him saunter into the women's waiting arms, considering.

Sonny stifled a yawn and leaned against the doorframe, her arms laden with presents. Nearby, her brother was collecting the remains of the cake in preparation of leaving.

The party had gone on for quite some time. There seemed to be a never-ending flow of well-wishers floating through. As some left, others arrived to take their place. It seemed that there were always twenty or so people in the warehouse at any given time.

Tanya was adorable, she thought of the baby. With that red fuzz on her head and her daddy's nose.... Now, that had been a total surprise. I'm amazed Chris was able to get leave so soon after enlisting. And all the different visitors - there'd even been a distant cousin showing up that she hadn't seen in years. Sonny sighed contentedly. This has got to be the best birthday ever. Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

"You're looking kinda tired," Jordan commented with a raised eyebrow.

The dark girl smiled. "Yeah. I am a bit. Can't wait to get home. It's amazing how tired a person gets when they're having so much fun."

The emerald eyes sparkled. "So, you're not up to a crossword puzzle then?" The guitarist scratched at the wool cap she was wearing, fully expecting the girl to disagree with her.

Sonny's face froze. And then she remembered what their plans had been. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed, standing away from the door frame. "I totally forgot! I'm so sorry!"