Chapter 1
They know us already ~ Gray
2012
“Jesus H. What a rush. Best damned gig we ever had. How insane was that? Five thousand strong and they knew every frigging word of every song. Never expected that kinda response in the US. They’re our hardcore fans here. We’ve not even been promoted in the states yet. Pinch me. I can’t believe we’re here in New York, living the dream.” Brody’s eyes glittered with excitement, his pupils swallowing his irises whole with delight as he expressed what he thought then grinned widely. As our band, CraVed’s drummer, he’d played like a man possessed up on stage, and his body glistened with sweat when he pulled his black sodden T-shirt over his head and wiped his forehead with it.
This was our year, 2012. We’d decided to up sticks and move to New York in our attempt to break into the US music market. The gig was an awesome ending to a grueling five-month tour as warm-up for another band, but it had been great in helping our efforts to gain wider recognition for our music. The last gig of the tour taught us we already had fans in the US, even if we weren’t famous by definition of most rock bands who were mainstream in the music scene there at that time. Opening was fine as long as the headliners deserved to be there. And the one we’d just opened for was an honor, as they were one of the biggest on the planet.
“Fucking awesome response,” agreed our lead guitarist, Caleb. He’d given the performance his all and was also drenched, sweat dripping from his hair onto his saturated T- shirt. “Did you notice that huge blonde in the front row? Her tits were G’s at the very least. No matter where I looked she seemed to be in my peripheral vision. Almost threw me off my game during a couple of the songs. I had to avoid looking down to get through the last number,” he said with a smirk. He gestured with both hands as if he were grabbing a pair of breasts.
Nodding, I chuckled heartily, “Yeah, that’s why I got the fans to start jumping. I wanted to see those girls jiggle. It was definitely a sight to remember. It’s a wonder she didn’t knock herself out with those babies.”
Surge, our bass guitarist, shook his head. “I was too busy copping an eyeful from the two tiny brunettes in front of me with their T-shirts around their necks, shaking those nice firm handfuls in my direction.”
“Wonder how many thongs we collected tonight? By the end of the set I was wading ankle deep in some parts of the stage.” I laughed.
“Fuck me, Gray, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. I’d hate to be in the conversation where you tell people how big your cock is.” Brody gave me a wide-eyed look that said you’re kidding. I flashed him a cheeky grin and slapped my best friend’s back.
“This obsession with my cock has got to stop, Brody. It’s gone way past simple mentions now and I’m starting to feel paranoid. I’m even avoiding pissing next to you in the John now.”
Caleb cracked up laughing, “It’s ʼcause he’s measuring himself against all of us. Maybe getting married has dented his confidence now that he only has one pussy to please.”
“Dana’s pussy is none of your business. But when you get one as good as hers, you’ll know everything else is like a hamburger from a fast food outlet instead of the best side of beef from a fine restaurant,” Brody retorted.
“All right, let’s get changed and go party, guys, we’ve earned it. All this talk of pussy is making me hungry.” Caleb smirked at my comment and nudged my shoulder.
“Don’t encourage him,” Caleb said to me while nodding at Brody.
“As if any encouragement is needed. I feel I know Dana’s pussy intimately. He’s described what it’s like often enough,” I mumbled, pretending it was off-putting.
“If Dana’s pussy is none of our business, how come you can’t get through the day without mentioning it?” Caleb asked.
The rest of the guys all laughed, including Brody. “You started it, but let’s be clear I’m boasting not sharing. She’s a fucking peach and I only hope you all find the one that does it for you above all others like I have, otherwise you’ll never know what I’m talking about.”
Brody turned and grabbed a towel from one of the roadies then slung it around his neck as Dana came into earshot. Reaching out, he pulled her roughly toward him and lifted her up onto his body. She was a dancer, and fluidly wrapped her legs around his waist as her arms draped around his neck. They instantly locked lips as he kissed her like she was the last woman on earth. Brody’s step faltered as he began to carry her, staggering blindly toward the dressing room.
When he broke the kiss, I smirked when we made eye contact, “So, I take it you’re not partying with the rest of us tonight?” I asked, nodding at the regular crowd of groupies that hung around us after our gigs. Phoebe, one of the girls, caught my eye when she winked. She brought the beer bottle she was drinking to her lips and rimmed the edge of it with her tongue. Her suggestive gesture hit me right in the groin, making me hard.
Feeling frisky, I made a V with my fingers and stuck my tongue between them in a crude reply. She giggled, as lust glazed her eyes right before she raised an eyebrow in question. When I grinned wickedly at her she dropped her head and pretended to look coy, but she knew full well I’d be balls deep inside her before the night was out.
Groupies were forward and I had no time for most of them. They had no boundaries—pawing at my junk uninvited and grabbing my ass through my jeans. Phoebe wasn’t quite like the others. For a start, she was English. She’d moved to New York when Dana, her friend, got a part in a dance troupe for the summer, and ended up getting a green card. When I’d met her, she’d just quit working as a nightclub hostess near where Dana had been employed as a dancer, and tagged along with us because Dana and Brody were smitten. I suppose it was the common thread of England, and having mutual connections with our best friends, that made her grow to be more than a groupie in my eyes.
Something about her clicked with me from the beginning, but we didn’t get it on until after a tough period in my life, when she was there for me. From that point I always hung out with her when I was at a loose end, and ever since then an easy friendship had grown between us.
There was a calmness about her I liked. No heavy vibe around her, no pressure from her, and since I’d taken her to my bed, none of the other guys had touched her. We had a mutual enjoyment of each other, and she was a great match in the sack.
By the time we had all wandered down the long, narrow corridor back to the dressing room, Dana’s legs were locked at the ankles around Brody’s waist as she ground her crotch over his hips. Brody himself made no secret of palming her ass firmly from what I could see of her. Rumor had it, she’d had a bit of a reputation for being a sexual exhibitionist when Brody first met her. And when she made eye contact with me and bit her bottom lip when she saw I was watching, I figured that particular piece of gossip was pretty accurate. Brody was completely whipped. Three weeks after they met he married her.
Ignoring their increasing foreplay, I headed to the shower, got changed, and felt refreshed and ready to party. The tour had been long, and finishing in our new home city of New York had been the icing on the cake. Touring was brilliant, but knowing we had some time due for relaxation was awesome as well.
Caleb and I headed back to the foyer where we had left the girls hanging. As soon as Phoebe saw me enter she sashayed over, looking a million dollars in her little off-the-shoulder, silver sequined dress, black stockings, and fuck-me-to-the-moon heels.
Leaning in she whispered, “That little gesture you made earlier made my pussy clench. I’m soaking down here.”
Her dirty talk got me riled as she moved her face closer to mine and pressed a kiss to my lips. This quickly progressed as she slid her warm, teasing tongue straight into my mouth, and within a few seconds I was sporting a semi. “Fuck, Pheebs,” I muttered, groaning in protest, and I pulled back to grab her by both wrists.
“Bet your dick twitched in your pants just then, huh?” She smirked.
Another smile quirked my lips. She knew the effect she had on me. “I want to drink first, but you’re making me thirsty in other ways.”
“Mm-hmm, I like the sound of that. Maybe we need to take our drink somewhere else?” she suggested.
“All in good time; I have to be sociable. Don’t worry though, I’ll definitely need you later so don’t go anywhere.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Do you want it to be?”
“Maybe.”
“It’s a promise. Don’t leave with anyone else,” I said, pretending I thought she may do that, and knowing she wouldn’t because the sex we had was always off the charts.
Phoebe smiled, and inclined her head. “Unless Brody suddenly throws Dana over in favor of me, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
I slung my arm over her shoulder chuckling. She always used Brody as a way of trying to piss me off. At least I thought that’s what she was trying to do, but it went over my head. Complications of a clingy girlfriend weren’t something I wanted after the death of my… Lizzie. Everyone had called her my girlfriend, but I’d never really seen her in those terms. She’d been someone close to me for sure, but what we’d had was nothing like what Brody shared with Dana. Even so, I was still grieving her loss, in my own way.
I was a sworn bachelor before Lizzie. And after my experience with her, and watching how my dad ranted about my mother after she’d fucked him over and left us, it had confirmed everything I’d figured out about relationships with women. They just weren’t for me.
While my bandmates, their girls, and other groupies, tiptoed around me for fear of upsetting my fragile state following Lizzie’s passing, Phoebe had continued to be the same person she’d always been. Before I knew it, I had come to rely on her quick wit. We’d always had a natural, flirty banter with each other even when Lizzie was around. Five weeks after she died, Phoebe made her move on me and it was pretty clear we both enjoyed fucking each other.
I felt her hand slide into my back pocket and Phoebe whipped out my cell phone.
“Can I have your number?” she asked, giving me a pleading look.
“Why? You know where to find me.”
“All right, I understand. Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” she replied, looking dejected.
“Pheebs, we’re mates, so I suppose you should have it, but don’t give it to the others. I don’t want whiny bitches texting me every five minutes.”
The smile on her face was priceless. Who knew that entering a few digits into someone’s phone could cause the kinda pleasure I saw on her face.
“Keep it safe and don’t forget I have some extra digits for you later. Have a nice day.” I winked, as I left her with her jaw hanging, and jogged forward to catch up with Caleb.
“So, what’s the plan for later?” I asked.
“Beers, women, getting laid, some dancing,” Caleb stated.
“In that order? Not really fit for dancing after I get laid. You must be doing it all wrong. Maybe you’d like to watch Pheebs and I go at it later, you might pick up some tips.”
Caleb shoved me. “Wanker,” he said, just as my cell, which was still in my hand, began to vibrate. My heart raced as soon as I saw the caller ID. It was the call we’d anticipated but never believed we’d get.
Devlin 0’Brian, talent manager at the record label, Hot Palms, was on the line. He’d approached us in Michigan after we’d opened for BloodSoul the week before, and we were rapt. We’d had major success with our first album, in Europe, and had just released our second. Although CraVed were a household name in that continent, we were still busy playing warm up in the US.
We knew if Devlin’s label took us on we’d be elevated to the big time. We’d been due to sign a new contract in the UK, but hadn’t, choosing instead to go stateside. As a band, we’d decided this was our all or nothing year—we were free floating without a new record deal. It was scary as hell, but our self-belief was intact—we had what it took to take our music to the American masses.
“Gray? Devlin here. Hot Palms. We’ve discussed CraVed in depth, spoken to our legal team, and I’m now in the position to offer you a three million dollar, two album deal. It’s not the biggest you’ll get on the table, but we have a kick-ass team to push you further. With their collective expertize, and your talent, we can take CraVed to the next level.”
My heart had been pumping hard at the beginning of the conversation and by the time he’d finished talking I was almost hyperventilating. Despite this I somehow managed a cool comeback.
“Great news, Devlin. Can you give us a day to approach our legal guys to discuss it? I’ll call you back, same time tomorrow?”
“Of course, but let me say, we here at Hot Palms believe we can make CraVed a top tier worldwide brand. Please don’t sign with anyone else until we’ve spoken again. I look forward to your call tomorrow.”
I thanked him, ended the call, and ran ahead of everyone punching the air. “Fuck me! We’re in. They’re begging to sign us.”
After a few minutes where we all back-slapped and dry-humped each other in our excitement, we calmed down enough to walk across the road to where the after-party was being held. The excited atmosphere and chatter between us felt like static in the air. Our moods so high I couldn’t stop smiling.
Post gig I always crashed after a couple of hours. My mood became tired and I craved the solitude of my own space. Two hours of socializing and being polite was enough for any man, and when I glanced around the room, Phoebe caught my eye again. I’d had five shots and a couple of whiskeys, and although I was still far from drunk, my body had a slight buzz of electricity passing through it. I felt good, horny good.
Phoebe stood beside two other girls and as if she’d known I was looking, her head suddenly jerked up in my direction. Staring pointedly at me, a naughty smile played on her lips. That small stretch of her mouth was all it had taken to set my legs in motion. I smiled in return, she was a stunningly attractive girl. Who wouldn’t have? I wanted to get laid, and from the look in Phoebe’s lust drunk eyes, I knew that she wanted that too.
Interrupting the groupie talking to her, I slid my hand around her waist. “I’m ready to get out of here, sweetheart. Are you coming?”
“I think you’ve seen me coming enough times to answer that question for yourself,” Phoebe said, shooting me a teasing smirk while she checked out my crotch.
Casting my eyes over her, with a smile, I checked out her long, blond, sun-kissed hair surrounding her pretty face. She was beautiful. I could have looked at her all day long. Phoebe was a hard girl to define. She carried herself, looked, and sounded like she came from money, but with a hippie dress code and a carefree aura around her. Almost as tall as me in her heels, she had the most incredibly attractive legs. Victoria’s Secret incredible at the very least. Every time I had touched them it had led to more. Most of all, Phoebe’s blunt, dirty talk when she flirted, always did it for me.
Shaking my head, I snickered, “Ah, sorry, I should have known by the way you’re still in control of your body. Your eyes aren’t rolling in your head and you’re not screaming my name. You’re definitely not coming. Let me correct myself. I’m heading home. Would you like to come?”
Wrapping my arm tighter around her waist, I waved to Brody and gave him an ‘I’m out of here’ nod in the direction of the door. Brody took his hand off his wife’s ass just long enough to salute me then planted it firmed back in place. On the way out of the door Caleb barged shoulders with me. He was three sheets to the wind drunk, “Night, Gray. Night, Phoebe. Do everything I would do.”
“Jeez, I was hoping for more. I hear you only last a few minutes and missionary is your position of choice.” I goaded, and laughed at the serious expression on his face.
“Whoever said that must have known me when I was twelve. The tiger in my pants is a lot fiercer nowadays.”
“Tiger? Really? Isn’t that just a big pussy?” I asked, smirking while I tried not to laugh.
Phoebe giggled and Caleb cupped Phoebe’s chin. “Nothing girlie about my dick is there, honey?”
Phoebe shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and I could see the hurt in her eyes. I was pissed he’d made our joke personal to her. Phoebe had slept with him once when Dana and Brody first met, but that didn’t make her less sensitive as a person. I knew she’d been with him before me and we’d spoken about it. I also knew she regretted it.
It bothered me because I liked Pheebs, but she couldn’t undo what she’d done. Really, it was none of my business who she slept with before, but I wouldn’t tolerate her sleeping with one of my bandmates again while she was around me.
“That’s not fucking called for, Caleb. Watch your mouth.”
“It’s her mouth you want to be worried about. Suction like a turbo vacuum and let me tell you—”
When Caleb continued to run off at the mouth my fist connected with his jaw. He fell to a crumpled heap on the floor and I scowled at him, “Apologize to her. Fucking apologize. I won’t have any woman treated the way you’ve just disrespected her in public.”
Looking up from his curled-up position on the floor, he nursed his jaw and shook his head. “Bro’s before ho’s, Dude. Didn’t you get the memo about that?”
Lifting my fist, I pulled it back and lunged at him again. Phoebe caught my arm, pulling me off center. I stumbled and leaned one hand against the wall to steady myself. Even though he was belittling her, she held her hands on my arms, preventing me from tackling him.
“Leave it, Gray. I deserve it for being stupid enough to sleep with a guy like him. And for your information, Caleb, what Gray just said about you in bed, he almost hit the nail on the head. You’re not that well-endowed. There’s a saying that comes to mind…God gives you what you need. Well he never gave you much in the way of a dick. I guess he thought you already were one.”
Phoebe’s words were more severe than any punch I could have thrown. I found her smart mouth as funny as fuck. Chuckling heartily, I pulled her back into my side and stared into her beautiful, big blue eyes. “Sweetheart, I like how you say what you think instead of being polite and sucking it up. You’re so damn smart.” Grinning warmly at her ballsy comeback, I leaned in and kissed her softly on the cheek.
“Caleb, pick yourself up off the floor and apologize to my friend here. I won’t have anyone I work with treat women like shit.”
Caleb brought himself to his feet and staggered into the wall. “Sorry, Phoebe, but that was a shitty comment about my dick. I’m more than average size,” he said, still focusing on her comment about his cock.
Phoebe nodded her head. “Apology accepted and you’re right, Caleb, it is more than average size.” Caleb smiled; his face visibly relaxed as he swayed on his feet before he turned and staggered through the door of the party room.
Turning to me, she grinned at my scowling face because she had appeared to backtrack with him.
“What? I’m not lying, he is more than average size…for a twelve-year-old,” she finished, and burst out laughing. “Come on, you promised to do things to me. So far all I’ve had are insults and a fist fight, I deserve more than that.”