My Rock (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #1) (5 page)

I parked the bike right up front; it was one of the
privileges of riding a bike over a car. I found a table once I got inside. I
didn’t like the counters. That was where all the old fat guys in their business
suits liked to sit. I wanted to be in the back where I could enjoy my treats
and have the opportunity for the kind of lap dance that you aren't going to get
sitting at the bar.

I ordered a pitcher of beer from the hot, little
waitress. She had reddish brown hair, and when she smiled, she had a deep
dimple on each side of her face. She had nice round tits that pressed up hard
against the red halter-top she was wearing, and her long, black stockings
started just underneath her tight black leather shorts and ended underneath a
pair of black
come fuck me
heels.

“Hey, sweets, what can I get you?” she asked.

Her name tag said, “Jessica,” so I said, “Well,
Jessica…I‘d love a pitcher of dark beer, whatever you have on tap, and maybe a
handful of that fine ass.”

“The beer will be ten bucks and throw in another ten
and you can grab a handful. Just make sure you do it quick and don’t touch anything
above the level of the tables or the bouncers will bounce you right out of here
on your own pretty, little ass.” I threw a twenty up on her tray and copped a
nice feel. My cock was at half-mast and I was sure it wouldn’t be long before
I’d need some relief.

The place was pretty slow for a Friday night.
I
could see a few of the strippers mingling with the mostly
middle-aged crowd, and a couple of waitresses lounging around the bar, chatting
it up with the dirty, old salesman crowd. There were a lot of those in this
place. This was one of the nicer clubs in the city. It was actually capable of
holding five-hundred people, although I’d be willing to bet there weren’t even
a hundred there that night. It was more expensive for the cover charge than the
others were, and the member’s only area scared off a lot of guys who were just
in a club like this looking for anonymous pussy. They didn’t really want to
have to break a twenty for it, if you know what I mean.
I
went there instead of going to the cheaper joints because it reminded me of
places I used to go back before I was crowned the king of the sleaze bars.

It
was decorated
nicely,
with plush red carpet that didn’t look like people had been crushing cigarettes
out on it, and comfortable, plush, deep red chairs and mahogany tables. The
walls were black and the lighting was dark like a movie theatre, making the
stage the definitive focal point. The stage
was well lit
and, as the dancers entered under the lights, they tapped their sexy heels down
a long flight of black and white marble stairs and then down onto the spacious
stage. The girls would perform for three songs each; with each song they’d
become progressively more seductive—and progressively more naked.

The first girl that came down the stairs was dressed
in a tight little mini-skirt and a skin tight cotton shirt that tied up over
her naval. She had on knee socks and had her hair in braids like a schoolgirl.
That schoolgirl shit didn’t do anything for me, but a lot of guys like it, I
guess. She strutted around in her stiletto’s, only taking off her blouse during
the first song, but doing a lot of bumping and grinding. During the second
song, the skirt came off and she was in a skimpy blue bra, barely containing
her giant, fake tits, and a skimpy thong that contained exactly as much as it
should.

The third song said good-bye to her bra and,
somehow, a silk sheet appeared on stage and she lay back on it and simulated
torrid sex and masturbation.
Like
I said, I didn’t get
into school girls, but once that uniform was shed, it was a pretty hot show.

The next girl was more my style. She had long, dark
hair, and she wore a skimpy little business suit. Each piece of clothing she
took off revealed a nicely toned and tattooed
body,
and everything looked real, not plastic or rubber or whatever that shit is they
use to plump things up. She had long tan toned legs and medium-sized, firm
tits. She lay down during her third song, naked, besides an almost invisible
white thong. She spread her legs, pumped her hips and had both her hands
between her legs, presumably masturbating herself for all to watch. That was
hot, but the hottest part was when she rolled over onto her knees and put her
ass up in the air towards the audience as she worked her own pussy. She had a
fine looking ass too. It was nicely rounded, and looked like she either worked
out, or she just kept it in good shape from all the arching and bending and
bumping and grinding for her clients.

When the girls weren’t dancing onstage, they would
circle the crowd, looking for lap dances. The ones I’d seen making the rounds
in there that night were all pretty hot in their see-through lingerie and high
heels, long blonde or brunette hair cascading down around their shoulders. Some
of them were petite and some tall; some had little boobs and some gigantic
ones. But the one that had my cock twitching in my pants was the brunette in
the business suit…go figure.

“Here you go, honey.” The waitress smiled and
flashed her dimples as she sat the beer down.

“Thanks, I got anything left on my grab-ass-tab?”

“Not on tab baby, but cash is always welcome.”

“We’ll see how the night goes,” I told her with a
grin.
“How about you ask that one up there to come see me
when she finishes her dance.”

She looked up at the stage and said, “Mm, you have
good taste, she’s my favorite too.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” I told her.

She winked at me and said, “Sorry sweetie, you
wanna
play, you have to pay. Besides, Bianca’s my roommate;
I can play with her all I want.” Then she winked at me again and licked her
big, full lips before she walked away. Damn! Now my cock was aching.

CHAPTER
NINE

ELLY

I woke up on Sunday morning with butterflies in my
stomach. I almost wished I had never called Tristan. It all seemed too
overwhelming to me now. For one thing, he’s obviously just looking for another
piece of ass. Was that what I was really looking for, after everything I’d been
through already? Then, there was the fact that he’s obviously hit some kind of
brick wall in his career. He was a finalist on
Fresh Voices
, and that would be great if he hadn’t already been a
star and just pissed it all away. Did I really want to waste my time with a guy
like that? What if someone found out about us? I wasn’t just risking my
internship to spend a little time with him; I was risking my entire career. If
I
got fired and he got disqualified, it would be front page
news on every rag in every grocery store across the U.S. Not because
I
was important, but because he used to be. If there
was
a scandal, people would suddenly remember who he was.
That was how Hollywood worked.

Sighing, I threw back the covers and got out of bed.
I found Susie in the kitchen eating waffles and reading
Greatest Films of all Time
for our final this week. That’s what I
should have been
doing,
concentrating on what was good
in my life rather than inviting in more drama. I had a 3.8 GPA that I wouldn’t
have much longer if I didn’t crack open a book or two.
              

“Hey!” she said, closing the book. “Looking forward
to tonight?”

I put my hand on my fluttering stomach and said, “I
don’t know. I feel kind of sick.”

“It’s just nerves, you’ll be fine,” she said.

I poured a cup of coffee and sat down next to her at
the table. “What if it isn’t nerves, Susie? What if my body is trying to tell
me that this is a huge mistake?”

Susie smiled and put down her fork. “Your body
doesn’t know anything except that you haven’t dated in a while because of the
terrible thing that happened to you the last time you fell in love. The
universe is not against you. Tragedies happen and people move on. Tristan is
probably just a stepping stone on your way. Have
fun,
don’t overthink it and you’ll be fine. Oh, and make sure he wraps it in foil
before he checks your oil.” She laughed at her own wittiness.

I smacked her on the side of her arm for that
comment. “I’m not going over there to have sex with him,” I told her.

“
Riiiight
!” she said.

I smacked her again and went to get in the shower.
It was only nine a.m. I had a good ten hours to stew over it before I actually
saw him. Maybe I’d go buy a new outfit to wear. It was doubtful that Tristan
would notice what I was wearing, but I’d feel better if I looked nice. I
decided that was what I’d do, and after some shopping to clear my head, I might
be able to concentrate and get some studying done.

Ten hours later, I was standing in front of
Tristan’s apartment in a questionable building in an even more questionable
neighborhood, once again wondering what the hell I was doing. I’d bought a new
pair of jeans…and a blouse…and a pair of boots. I really couldn’t afford any of
it, but it had made me feel good while I was picking it all out, and it made me
feel good when I looked at myself in the mirror. The blouse was red and it
buttoned up the front, the jeans fit like a second skin and had bling on the
pockets, and the boots were soft, black leather that felt like I was wearing a
pair of gloves on my feet. I was having a really good hair day, and Susie,
who’s an expert when it comes to make-up, had helped me with my eyeliner and
mascara. I left the house feeling like a million bucks, even though I hadn’t
gotten a smidge of studying done.

Before his apartment door, I stood feeling cheap and
desperate. I didn’t know if he was looking forward to me coming over or not,
but the idea that maybe he was and I might be disappointing him if I didn’t
show was the only thing that convinced me to raise my hand and knock.

“What?” he rudely yelled from inside. I guess he
wasn’t overly excited about me showing up.

“Hi, Tristan, it’s Elly,” I said.

“Elly?” Not a promising
start,
and it only got worse. “Oh shit! Hang on a second!”

I heard a lot of shuffling around and a drawer
opening and slamming shut. After several minutes, he pulled open the door. He
ran his eyes over my body and gave the new clothes an admiring gaze, at least.
Then he looked at my face and said, “Hey!”

“Hi, did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, not at all.
I was…writing some new music and I lost track of time. Come in.”

I stepped inside the tiny cluttered space and he
closed the door behind me. It smelled like weed and old pizza.

“Hang on a second and let me straighten up.”

He left me standing by the door while he shoved
dishes in the sink and take out containers into the trash. Then he picked up a
pile of what looked like his dirty clothes, except that I could have sworn
there was something pink and silky in the middle of it all, and he threw them
into what I assumed was the bathroom. After another full five minutes he walked
back over to the couch and sat down. Patting the seat next to him, he said,
“Have a seat.”

I wanted to turn and run, but it was too late now. I
was a fucking idiot for being there. I’d wasted my whole day thinking about
this and he had forgotten that I was even coming. His place was a pigsty and
he’d left me standing by the door. I was worse than an idiot if I didn’t turn
and leave. I took a deep breath and walked over and sat down next to him. He
grinned at me and I smiled back. I had no idea what to say.

After a few second of silence he said, “You want a beer?”

“Sure,” I said. I didn’t, really, but it would at
least give me something to do with my hands.

He got up and walked the six or so steps to his
little kitchen area and opened an apartment sized refrigerator. From where I
sat I could see that it was full of beer. The only other thing inside of it was
a bottle of Tabasco sauce. The counter above it
was decorated
with various bottles of alcohol: whiskey, vodka, even gin. If it hadn’t been
for all the take-out containers, I would’ve wondered if he even ate.

He came back with the beer, handed me mine, chugged
most of his down and sat down next to me. After I took my first drink of the
beer, he took my face in his hand and he kissed me. It was weird, no conversation,
no
awkward date moments…he was just moving right in
for the sex. I knew people did that, but I’d never done it before. Then again,
I’d never had sex in a public bathroom before I met Tristan, either. Somewhere
deep inside of me, even though I hadn’t wanted to admit it, I knew the sex was
what I came for too. I had things I needed to forget; a man I loved that was no
longer here to love me back. Sex with Tristan might be just what I needed to
let go of the past.

His hands were playing lightly at first across my
new, silk shirt; he started unbuttoning it, slowly as we kissed. I could feel
my hard nipples pressing against the lace of my bra, protruding out through the
light fabric of my blouse as his other hand ran palm-down across them. I could
also feel warmth and wetness between my legs. Right or wrong, this man turned
me on like crazy. I could tell that he was getting frustrated with the buttons
on my shirt, and I really didn’t want him to tear it, so I lifted my arms and
let him just pull it off over my head. He tossed it aside and then cupped both
of my lace covered breasts in his hands. He ran his thumbs over my swollen
nipples before he moved my hair and pressed his lips to my neck. I could feel
him sucking on it, hard, as he returned to playing with my breasts and I knew
he was going to leave a mark, but I didn’t care. I could cover it with my hair,
or make-up. It just felt so damn good; I didn’t want him to stop.