AllFreeNovel
Share Us
-chapter one-
Paul “Rock Giant” Reed
Paul Reed was bored. Not just plain bored, but severely, mind-meltingly, any second now his brains were going to bleed out of his ears bored. Eight days into a tour with five hard-living rockers – all right, four hard-living rockers and one ghost-like freak of nature – you’d think he’d be on a crazy high, living life to capacity, not contemplating snorting coffee granules just for kicks. They were out of booze until the next pit-stop, the only munchies left were the weird squishy bits in the Bombay Mix that nobody liked, and evenArse Blaster –not its actual title –the kick-ass game of the moment, couldn’t hold his attention for more than thirty seconds. Life was truly dire when even blatting alien squid-monsters while watching the impressive back view of a pixelated nymph in microscopic bikini bottoms – thank you, Ash, for that Easter egg – couldn’t raise more than a sigh out of you. What he needed was something with a higher thrill factor, something to match the adrenaline rush of playing live on stage to an arena full of triple hard bastards.
“Ever tried car surfing?” he asked Ash, who slumped onto the chair beside him and claimed the games controller.
“Why the fuck would I want to stand on top of a car while it was stationary, let alone moving?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“I don’t even want to try normal surfing.”
“Think of the rush.”
“Yeah.” Ash shook his head, making his long fringe fall in front of his eyes. He brushed it back again, so he could see the TV screen. “I’m not that desperate for kicks. Entertaining a new set of crazies every other night is plenty exciting enough. I don’t need to risk life and limb.”
Playing live music for scores of black clad metal-heads sometimes felt like risking life and limb. It was certainly never dull. Paul buzzed the whole time he was on stage, and always enjoyed the after parties, but their promoters had been keeping things low-key this tour, as Xane was fresh out of rehab. The label, the execs, the venue bosses—they were all doing their best to keep him away from temptation. That, apparently, meant the rest of them had to quit partying with their female fans, too. He wasn’t exactly desperate to climb into a random pair of knickers every night, but nor did it seem fair that they all had to bypass the possibility of a stealthy blowjob or two just because Xane couldn’t control his urges.
“Cheer up, eh? We’re playing a ruddy arena tomorrow night. If that doesn’t slap a smile on your chops, you’re in the wrong job.”
He was definitely in the right job, and sure, he was looking forward to playing Sheffield. It’s just… “I’ve played there before.” Twice at least, but then, there wasn’t a festival or concert hall in the country he hadn’t played at least twice, right from the pokiest of working men’s clubs, all the way up to Wembley. It’s what came of having folk legends for parents. He’d been up on stage with them as soon as he was old enough to hold a pair of spoons.
“Spook…” He ambled over to where their rhythm guitarist was sitting with his nose in a book. “Wanna tie me up and time how long it takes me to get free?”
“Nope.”
“We could put the game on two-player mode,” Ash suggested.
“No thanks. Leon’s iron buns don’t do it for me.” Nor did the petite derriere of the female sprite, if he was being entirely honest. There wasn’t enough of it to make the jiggle authentic. He looked around but failed to spot the rest of the band members; they were probably catching up on sleep in the cells. The bunks on the bus were hideous, cupboard like things, too narrow, far too short for his long legs and had sliding doors along the sides so that it felt as if you were being locked in a coffin. While that appealed to the goths in the band, he wasn’t quite so enthralled. He’d been catching up on his shuteye spread across a couple of seats instead. “Think I’m going to go look in on Elspeth,” he muttered glumly. Not that either of the guys appeared to be listening. With a bit of luck, Elspeth would take mercy on him and let him spread out on the only proper bed on the bus. He didn’t see why being the only woman in the band automatically entitled her to the best bed, even if she was his bestie.
After a cursory knock, Paul let himself into the bedroom. The curtains were drawn across the windows, which meant the only illumination was courtesy of a couple of LED votive candles. “Hey, E. Do you have any of that festival tea left?”
A dark-haired shape sat up, revealing itself to be Xane, not Elspeth.
“Oh, hi,” he said. “Have you seen Elspeth around? I thought she was in here.”
“Right here.” A hand pressed against Xane’s shoulder, causing him to tilt sideways, thus revealing Elspeth’s form in the bed beside him, along with the band’s drummer, Steve Matlock. “Had to dispose of that tea before we set out. I told you that. Graham got totally weird about it. I think he thought I was smuggling hard drugs on board.”
Learning she was dabbling in Class A narcotics would have been preferable to discovering the temptation she was currently sampling. “For fuck’s sake,” he snarled, immediately about turning. It’d been bad enough discovering her and Xane in the dressing room four nights back, when she’d reassured him it was a strictly one-time event. “Just scratching an itch,” she’d insisted. “It’s not like he ever shoves it the same place twice.”
Apparently, she couldn’t see how that made it worse, but then Elspeth was pretty damned blind to most of Xane’s impressive list of faults. She’d been crushing hard on the guy since the day Paul had introduced them. Right at this moment, he kind of wished he hadn’t.
It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known she’d be tripping over herself to be his plaything. Hell, every woman with a libido tripped over herself to plant her hands on Xane Geist’s pretty arse, and Xane was exactly the type Elspeth had been mooning over since teenage hormones hit. Every boyfriend she’d ever had possessed iron-straight, long, black hair, and deep, soulful eyes. Xane was like the original mould for that model, perfect in his decidedly imperfect glory. The guy might have the voice of an angel, and eyes that betrayed every emotion, but he was still the sort of man you didn’t want hanging around any women of your acquaintance. That was, unless you got a kick out of watching them being screwed and tossed aside like a used Johnny.
If it had just been Steve he’d found her cosied up with, then fair enough, but Xane… really? What the hell was she thinking? Of course, if he made a big deal out of it, all he’d get would be piteous looks and mutterings about repressed love. Yes, he loved Elspeth, in an entirely filial way. There was zero repression happening on his part. That didn’t mean he couldn’t think she was an imbecile for screwing Xane.
Out in the tiny kitchenette, he butted his head against the window glass. “Of all the stupid fucking things she could do…”
The door opened, and Elspeth slipped out of the bedroom. “What’s up?” she demanded.
As if she required an explanation. “What’s up?” he parroted, forehead still pressed to the toughened glass. “Are you mental? When there’s so much on offer, why would you choose to screw around with him?”
“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal,” she said, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Are you jealous ’cause you’re not the one having fun?”
His concept of fun didn’t run to sucking Xane Geist’s dick.
“You know that’s all it is, right?”
