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one
Two years ago
It was Rocktoberfest. To say I was totally stoked was an understatement. We went from being a broken-up band who never even spoke to each other, has-been nothings, to walking across a major stage in about a month’s time. All thanks to Coleman Hicks, one of the legendary producers in the business. Everything he touched turned to gold, and now he had his hands on us and me, literally.
We were going on soon, but we were behind the bus making out. At first, it was friendly chatter. How are you, are you readyto play, and other some shit. And my bold inquiry into why he was doing this for us. He laughed and said I was stupid. Before I could walk away, he grabbed my waist and tugged me closer with his fingers inside the edge of my pants. “I didn’t mean it like that. But you and the rest of Hunt don’t know your worth. Especially with Jinx. He’s still in the public eye and no one forgot the rest of the band. There’s been a ton of online questions about where you all are with no answers. Until now.”
“This is going to make you a ton of money, isn’t it?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Probably.” He smiled, and I swear it rivaled the bright Nevada sun. “It’s more about reputation for me at this point. I have more money than I could ever need. What I want is…less tangible. Maybe.” He leaned forward and kissed me softly on the lips. No one had ever treated me like that.
If someone wanted me, they usually fell to their knees. And I had plenty. Even now. I’d never stopped playing, and even though the bands I played with weren’t popular or famous and mostly played dives, there were always fans, rock wannabes and eager holes. But Coleman? He was completely different, and I was completely out of my depth with him.
His hands wandered over my body seductively while his lips lingered on my throat. I thrust my hips forward, letting my desire be known. “You’re fantastic, Zig.”
“Well…” I had no words. I couldn’t believe he was interested in me. What could he want with my sorry, has-been ass? I didn’t know but he wanted something.
“I’ve been watching you. I see you. I think you’ll find I’m quite resourceful.” He was asking me for more than a fuck. That chilled me down to my bones despite the heat of the desert. He hummed in my veins, and I felt him in my chest competing with the rumbling of the bus generator. “Whatever you want.”
“Game on.” I leaned in and kissed him. Hard. With tongue and teeth and desire. I grabbed his ass, so sexy beneath thefancy jeans he wore. Where that would lead, I had no idea, but I wanted to find out. And fast. “Just so you know, I’m a freak in bed. I don’t know if you’ll be able to handle me.”
Coleman’s eyes roamed up and down my body as he inspected me. “What do you mean by freak? Like swinging off the chandelier, freak? Or like marathon fucking? OR what?”
“We could make that happen.”
“Which one?”
“Yeah, man.” My cock was rock hard thinking of all of those things and more. What we could get up to! And seeing this classy man naked was at the top of my list of things to do. Hell, right now, hewasthe list.
But it would have to wait. Miami shouted for us to come on. “We’re on soon. We have to get to the stage.” Fucking worry-wart mother hen buzz-kill motherfucker.
With a huge sigh, I straightened and dared to look into Coleman’s amber and sage eyes.
“Don’t worry, Zig. We’re only getting started.”
two
On Tour Two years later
Looking out at my bandmates over the stage, a sense of anxiety and anticipation rolled over me. What the fuck was I doing? Why and how had I ended up with these guys? None of them were paying any attention to me. They chatted with their roadies and techs. It was only our second show, and we were still working things out—tweaking the setups.
All the guys in the band were all happily paired up. Even Miami and Jinx, who had been so combustible before, were now in a golden twilight. And me?
Unbuttoning my pants, I shimmied out of my jeans. I’d gone commando because, yeah, these jeans were fucking tight.
I hadn’t made up with Coleman, and now we were on tour—officially. Great. Jacksonville fans would storm in later tonight. But Coleman? He hadn’t called. I told myself he was busy, but that was bullshit, but to be fair, I hadn’t called him either.
Griffin, the salesman from whom we bought all of our equipment, looked over at me from behind my kit. He quirked an eyebrow. He’d become a friend of sorts with the band and had a cool little dude for a son and a hot snowboarder for a man. They’d both be at the show later, but they weren’t here now. My tech, Simon, glanced up to see what Griffin was staring at and smirked at me. Neither said anything as I continued undressing. The buttons on my shirt were tricky, but I managed them. A sleeveless in soft blue to bring out my eyes and show off my guns. The tails covered my junk, barely.
A lot of shit swirled around in my brain, and I needed to silence the voices. The soft cotton-poly material slid over my shoulders, leaving me in nothing but my Nike sneakers. I took off across the stage before the shirt hit the floor. I threw my hands in the air and hooted loudly. On the other side, I wanted to jump over the barriers and get out into the seats, but as soon as I got my foot up on the glass barrier, someone grabbed me from behind. I kicked my legs in the air and yelled again.
Even though someone, probably security, had me reined in, I felt free. For so long, it had only been me. Before Midnight Hunt had ever hit it big, before I even knew Miami, Jinx, and Wolf, before I became Ziggy, and back when I was only Jack Braswell, there had been no one. Through the years, I fucked ‘em and forgot ‘em. Roadies, fans, or groupies, guys I picked up at the bar. Didn’t matter. I didn’t care. I was Jack-don’t-give-a-fuck Braswell, and later, I was a rockstar, living up to that rockstarpersona, Ziggy. I was wild and crazy and gave not one single mother-fucking fuck.
Then Coleman.
Well, fuck Coleman. Fuck relationships. Fuck everything.
I laughed maniacally until the security guy sat me down on my feet next to the pile of clothing I’d discarded. “Whew!” The endorphins fired me up. “What a rush.”
