Three years later

THE LAST NOTES of “Prowling” reverberate throughout the venue. Grabbing hold of the mic, I growl, “Good night, Phoenix! Thank you!”

After bounding off the stage to the sound of hundreds of people cheering, I hand my guitar to my roadie. I fucking love being on tour. And since I’m playing here again tomorrow, I’m staying in an actual hotel room tonight.

Jon Merkin, my label’s rep, waits for me to the right of the stage’s steps. He’s short and slight in stature, which sometimes causes people to underestimate his keen wit and killer instincts. All to my label’s advantage, of course. A really good guy. “Great job, Cole. You were on fire out there.” He holds his fist up for a bump.

I tap my fist to his, replying, “Thanks, man.”

“I know that Platinum already did its official thing, but I want to add my personal congratulations.”

It seems like only yesterday that I signed my deal with Platinum. My album is out now, and I have a team of people helping me with my career. I’m touring with a bunch of kick-ass musicians and selling out small and medium-sized venues across the United States. My first single, “Prowling,” has been at number one on the Billboard Hot 100 List for four weeks. Life is good.

Shaking my head, I reply, “I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

“Better get used to it.”

“From your mouth, Jon. Hey, thanks for putting me up in a hotel tonight. I love the tour bus, but it’s got nothing on a real bed. It’s been too long.”

Jon slaps me on the back. “Just make sure you actually get some sleep, killer.”

I wink at my rep. “Join me for a nightcap?”

“Sorry, man,” he says, shaking his head. “I have to head back to LA. But I’ll see you next week to film the video for ‘Prowling’. You’re really going to like your leading lady.”

“So I’ve heard.” My agent lined up the swimsuit model of the year to play that role. A smile creeps across my face.

Jon’s eyes take on a knowing, wicked glint. “Enjoy the hotel, Cole. You’ve earned it. See you next week.” With another quick shake of his head, he leaves the backstage area.

Once he’s out of my line of sight, I swipe a bottle of water off a nearby table and chug about half. Stripping off my wet T-shirt, I pour the rest of the water over my head. Damn, it feels like steam is coming off my body. Putting on a good show is as much about endurance as it is about the music.

Next to me, my drummer, Jeffrey, grabs a bottle of water and does the same. After shaking his flaming red hair like a wet dog, he points to the exit with his now-empty bottle. “Let’s get a drink.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

I don’t make it more than a few steps toward the door before a couple of blonde chicks materialize in front of me. They’re both wearing see-through white shirts with black bras, short skirts and stilettos. Knockouts, both of them. One has a rack that’s begging for my mouth, and the other woman’s ass is sheer perfection. The crew outdid themselves this time in granting these two backstage passes. “Well, hello ladies.”

Both of them smile up at me. The busty one swipes the tip of her tongue across her bright red lips. Yeah, I’m really going to like Phoenix.

“Cole,” she says, “you are—”

“So hot.” Her friend with the nice ass finishes. She runs her hand up and down my bare, wet chest, one of her blue fingernails tracing a water droplet’s path. I turn my head toward my drummer, who gives me a thumbs up. “Jeffrey and I are headed over to our hotel for a drink. Care to join us?”

The busty one responds, “We’d love to.” She licks her lips again, and my balls tighten. “Can we catch a ride with you on your tour bus? We’ve never ridden in one before.”

A rush of anticipation deepens my voice. “Sure thing, ladies.” I slant a sly look at my drummer. “Follow us.”

Flipping my wet shirt over my shoulder, I resume walking toward the exit, not bothering to hide my huge grin. I can’t imagine ever tiring of sampling the wares offered to me. We all get what we want—they get a night they’ll never forget and I get to fuck without any strings attached. Just in case, my PR company’s always around to handle any unpleasant fall-out. While not exactly following my promise to Mom and my aunt, my reputation doesn’t take a hit. Everybody wins.

The chicks fall in behind Jeffrey and me, joined by an ever-growing crowd heading out to the parking lot. “It’s been over a month since I’ve slept in a real bed,” Jeffrey says. “I can’t wait.”

“Me either, man. I hope I remember how to sleep in something that isn’t moving sixty miles per hour.”

He waggles his eyebrows. “Looks to me like you’re going to be doing your own driving tonight.”

By the time we arrive at the bus, our entourage has grown to about twenty people, mainly women. I bound up the stairs and turn around. “Welcome to the MPB! That’s the Magical Pussy Bus, for the uninitiated. We’re heading over to our hotel now for the after-party. C’mon in.”

Random groupies file in. When the two blondes join me at the top of the stairs, I take each of them by the hand. “Come with me, ladies.”

I position the one with the nice, round booty in front of me and Miss Boobs behind, and the three of us make our way to the bedroom in the back. Given that I’m the headliner, the bedroom technically is always mine, but I insisted that my band and I take turns. It’s only fair since we all have to perform every night. But I’m not thinking too hard about being fair right now. Even though the hotel isn’t far, I’m hyped up to sample what these chicks are offering. I don’t want to wait.

When we’re finally inside the small bedroom filled by the queen-sized bed, I grin at my companions. Threesomes never get old. Rubbing my index finger across my lips, I ask, “Did you ladies enjoy the show tonight?”

“Oh, yes,” Miss Boobs replies eagerly. “We got tickets for tomorrow night, too.”

I nod my head. “What are your names?”

“I’m Cathy and she’s Deirdre,” Miss Boobs says.

Smiling, I remove my wet T-shirt from my shoulder and wind up to toss it to the floor. Miss Ass—Deirdre—grabs my wrist. “Can I have that?”

If she wants my disgusting shirt, who am I to stop her? One less piece of laundry. “Sure thing, darlin’. All yours.” She quickly takes the shirt and stuffs it into her bag. Whatever floats her boat.

Cathy jumps in. “Cole, we’ve been dreaming about this for ages. Ever since your album came out.” While she’s talking, she steps back and removes her shirt. Her friend does the same. I reach out and take their shirts and place them on the top of the built-in dresser. Yeah, I’m a gentleman like that.

Hearing the familiar groan, I widen my stance as the bus lurches forward. Miss Ass loses her balance and reaches out to her friend, causing them both to tumble onto the bed.

Chuckling, I ask, “Is there room for me, darlins?”

The girls giggle and make room between them. I make quick work of my shoes and socks, and undo my belt. A sharp intake of breath comes from one of them as I stand at the foot of the bed with my hand on my fly. I really should take a shower, but these two don’t seem to mind my stage sweat. Judging from Miss Ass’s request, they might even like it.

“I’ve shown you mine,” I gesture toward my naked torso. “Now show me yours.” I’m handed two black bras, which I toss on top of their shirts. Opening the top drawer, I remove some condoms and place them within arm’s reach.

Focusing my attention on Miss Boobs, I crawl up the bed toward her. Reaching out, I weigh her breasts in my hands, rubbing her nipples into tight buds. She moans and arches her back, so I lean down and suckle. Nice.

Not wanting to leave her friend out, I turn and give her less endowed, but still delightful, chest the same treatment with my mouth, while running my hands over her more than ample ass. Finding her skirt’s zipper, I slowly lower it and enjoy the feeling of her body pulsing against mine. Soon both women are only wearing thongs and heels. My pulse surges to allegro.

Miss Boobs’s fingers work my fly. “These need to come off, Cole.” She cups my cock in between opening each button, causing my erection to get harder. Her mouth forms a perfect circle and her wide eyes look at me.

I respond with a smirk. “There’s more where that came from, darlin’.” What’s her name again? Cindy? Dawn? Oh well, Miss Boobs it is.

While Miss Boobs pulls my jeans down my hips, I help Miss Ass out of her thong. What perfectly round cheeks. I lean over and give one a nibble. “Cole, you’re so bad,” she coos, wriggling her butt to tantalize me further.

I trace the curve of her ass with a calloused finger. “And you’re very, very good.” I nip her other cheek while reaching out to strum Miss Boobs’s nipple. Heavy panting provides the room’s bass melody.

The bedroom door creaks open. Jeffrey stands at the threshold with his arm around a busty brunette. “Coming?”

When did the bus stop? Who cares? Turning my head so that my cheek rests on Miss Ass’s assets, I reply, “Not yet, drummer boy.” The ladies on the bed giggle at my response.

Jeffrey’s eyes roam over my two companions and he gives me a nod before closing the door. “See you at the bar.”

My last rational thought is that my life doesn’t suck.