The Prince of Punk Rock

  The Prince of Punk Rock

  Radical Rock Stars: Book One

  Jenna Galicki

  Beau to Beau Publishing

  www.beautobeau.com

  This book is also available in print.

  Copyright 2014 Jenna Galicki

  ISBN: 978-1-6184-5256-6

  All Rights Reserved

  I love her, but I also love him.

  She’s everything to me.

  He sets my world on fire.

  It's our dirty little secret, and it’s about to blow our record deal sky high.

  I’m Tommy Blade, the Prince of Punk Rock, and this is our story.

  Warning: This book is for mature audiences only.

  Tommy Blade is a man with a secret. It’s a secret he only shares with one person, Jessi Blade – and the men he surrenders to in the bedroom. Jessi’s only condition to their tumultuous sex life is that these men are one night stands. But when Angel Garcia enters Tommy’s life, it’s like a match to gasoline.

  Mega-talented punk rock singer Angel Garcia, with his smoldering ebony eyes, tight leather pants and unstoppable stage presence, is a man who is used to getting what he wants. He has his eyes set on Tommy Blade as his new lead guitarist, and as his life partner.

  Jessi Blade, sympathetic to her husband's bisexual needs, loves him enough to share him, but she never counted on Angel Garcia to test the threshold of her marriage. He makes her life hell . . . and heaven. He’s her damnation and her salvation. She wants to hate him. She wants to despise him. But, his charm and raw sex appeal are impossible to resist. Without warning, she finds herself falling in love with her husband's gay lover.

  At the height of it all, their punk rock band catapults to stardom.

  Their lives are marred by secrecy, deception and sacrifice. Feelings of betrayal, backlash from the sensationalistic media and threats of blackmail send them down a hard road filled with tough decisions.

  They aren't your ordinary rock stars. They're radical rock stars. And they have a big story to tell.

  Copyright and Disclaimer:

  This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author or publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains material which may be considered offensive by some readers.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or yet to be born, is purely coincidental and entirely unintentional.

  Published in the United States of America.

  Chapter One

  “Let’s just get one thing straight, if it’s gets weird for either of us, we stop. We throw this guy out of our bed. No questions asked. No explanations. Agreed?”

  Jessi nodded, eagerly. “Agreed.”

  That’s how it all started, two hours ago.

  Tommy Blade hadn’t been with a man in a long time – too long – not since he met Jessi, over a year ago. He never thought he would confess his secret desires to anyone, but Jessi wasn’t just anyone. It didn’t matter that the hard muscles of a man’s body made his mouth water, or that the scent of a slightly sweaty man made him dizzy with excitement, he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Jessi.

  He still struggled with the truth. He still couldn’t find the courage to say the words out loud, but Jessi knew. She always knew what was going on in his head. They often shared silent gazes that transcended the spoken word. It was a connection that few people shared.

  Tommy was forced to trust Jessi or else he risked losing her. He was determined to make her his wife, even if it meant letting her see a side of him that he swore he would never let anyone see. It was a side he kept tucked away, hidden from the world, brought to life only during the brief encounters with the men he surrendered to in the bedroom.

  When Tommy met Jessi, he tried to forget about his obsession, but the broad chest of a handsome man always turned his head and made his insides yearn for physical contact. The soft stubble against his cheek, the force behind a man’s kiss and the strength of a man’s hand on his body, were all things that sent his heart racing. Exercising restraint was tough, but Tommy never acted on his desires. Not since he met Jessi. Not until tonight.

  The threesome was Jessi’s idea. She simply presented it as a viable solution for the both of them to find sexual fulfillment, and let the scenario fester in his head. At first, he opposed the idea, but the scenario quickly ballooned into a full-length erotic fantasy that he couldn’t suppress.

  He went to a gay bar, two towns away. It was the same pick up joint he frequented before he met Jessi. Its discreet location provided camouflage and anonymity. From the outside it looked like an unoccupied building. The windows were blackened out. There was no name displayed on the establishment to introduce itself to the world. If the place had a name, it was never spoken. It was an underground club and invitation was strictly by word of mouth.

  The faces changed since the last time he was there, but the intention was still the same. It wasn’t a place to socialize or partake in camaraderie or drop in for a drink on your way home. It was meeting place for men interested in casual sex. The backroom served as a shanty for a quick encounter. You could stop in, get your rocks off and be on your way in half an hour. It was a smorgasbord of testosterone, a buffet of muscle and beefcake.

  Tommy got hard the minute he laid eyes on the place. He knew the secrets that transpired behind the façade of the ordinary-looking building. Men flocked around him as soon as he walked through the door. They always did. A guy once told him that it was the mixture of his rugged jaw and strong upper body, offset by the innocence of his big blue eyes that made him so attractive. The ladies always said it was his long blond hair and the guitar.

  It didn’t take Tommy long to pick someone he wanted to bring home. Less than an hour later, the three of them were in his bedroom. He still couldn’t believe they really went through with it.

  Tommy never expected Jessi to get off watching him with another man . . . watching him get rammed in the ass by a total stranger . . . rammed so perfectly in the ass . . . rammed so deep that it felt like a cock was about to touch the back of his throat from the opposite end. But she did.

  Now that it was over, and they were alone, there was silence. He waited for Jessi to say something. Anything. Each muted second that passed made his cheeks flush hotter. When Jessi finally turned to look at him, she had a mischievous spark in her eye. She leaned closer to him, looked straight at him and said, “That was the hottest fuckin’ thing I ever did.”

  Chapter Two

  Jessi never questioned Tommy’s sexuality. He wasn’t feminine or androgynous. He was a rough, tattooed musician who played football. It wasn’t until three months ago that his interest in men became blatantly obvious to her in the way his eyes followed a handsome man. Tommy knew that she was aware of his attraction, but he still wouldn’t admit it. It was the refusal of his marriage proposal that forced him to concede to her suspicions. She knew he loved her, but she was afraid that if he continued to suppress his desire, one day he would leave her for another man. That’s why she suggested a threesome.

  They continued to have one-night stands every few weeks with random male strangers. She never told anyone. First, because she would never betray Tommy’s trust, and second, because it was too unconventional. Pe
ople would think they were swingers, and that wasn’t true. Even though it was a threesome, she never had any sexual contact with the men they shared their bed with. Occasionally, there might be an open-mouthed kiss, but that’s as far as it went. Tommy was always the guest of honor. He was the center of attention.

  She knew their relationship was weird and kinky, but it worked, for them anyway. It satisfied Tommy’s urge to be with a man, and it calmed the fear inside of her that one day Tommy would and leave her for another man.

  Jessi remembered the first time she saw Tommy. It was at a college football game. When he took off his helmet and shook out his long blond locks, it caught her attention. He turned so she could see his face and the color of his eyes pierced through the crowd. They were powder blue. His lighthearted smile lit up his face and projected ease and confidence.

  She didn’t see him again until a couple of weeks later at a party. He stood out with his flowing hair and bright eyes, and a chest that was made to play football. But he wasn’t dressed like an athlete. He wore black skinny jeans, boots and a Metallica T-shirt. His arms were tattooed and his fingernails were painted black. He looked like a rock star and she was drawn to him right away. She didn’t wait for an introduction. She boldly offered him a beer and a smile.

  When she complimented him on his rock star image, she learned he was the lead guitar player in a popular local band called Psychobabble. Even though he came from a family of football players, the guitar was his passion.

  Tommy was exactly her type. She always went for the bad boys, ego-toting jocks, hellions and the like. But this bad boy was different. He was sweet and unpretentious, self-assured without arrogance. He was polite and his eyes projected an innocence that captured her heart. And he had a great name – Tommy Blade. It was as cool as he was.

  Jessi fell for the rock star life the first time she saw Tommy play. She stood at the front of the stage, waited for the band to begin their set and jumped as soon as they hit the first note. She didn't expect the hardcore thrash metal that the band played, with their head banging and hair tossing and screaming lyrics that she could barely understand. After the initial shock, she found herself bobbing her head and tossing her hair around like the rest of the people in the bar. What surprised her most was Tommy’s talent. It was vivid and undeniable. There was no holding him back once he had a guitar in his hand.

  During the first song, Tommy slowly walked down the two small steps that led to the stage. Girls crowded around him and reached out to stroke his arm or touch his shoulder as he passed through them. He stopped directly in front of Jessi, jutted his hips and his guitar forward, and played an intricate guitar solo just for her. She was in awe. The spotlight was on her. They were the center of attention. After he finished his guitar solo, he gave her a quick kiss on the lips and returned to the stage. The people around her cheered and pumped their fists in the air. A drunken girl next to her grabbed her arm and screamed, “That was awesome!” Jessi laughed. It was awesome.

  Soon afterwards, Jessi changed her style dramatically. She dyed her shoulder length hair hot pink and had it cut into an asymmetrical bob. Bright tattoos soon adorned her shoulders. Anything black with studs or spikes became a wardrobe staple. Mini skirts and fishnet stockings, always finished off with a pair of studded black leather boots, befitted her aesthetic. She was a rock goddess.

  Tommy was her best friend, her soul mate, her lover and her other half. She couldn’t image a future without him, but when she started to doubt his sexuality she couldn’t move forward with their relationship. Tommy still didn’t feel comfortable talking openly about his sexuality, but at least he stopped denying it and Jessi wasn’t stuck with the ambiguity of their relationship any longer.

  Now that she found a way for them both to be happy, she finally agreed to marry him.

  Chapter Three

  Three years later

  Tommy rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers and tried to ease away some of the tension and frustration. The checking account was overdrawn again. It was his fault. Jessi worked hard. She put every dime she earned into the house. He was the one that wasn’t pulling his weight. Teaching private guitar lessons wasn’t as profitable as he expected. He knew he should do more with his education, but he wasn’t cut out for a nine-to-five job. Music was his lifeline.

  Jessi deserved better than this little house in Brooklyn, but it was all they could afford and they still struggled to pay the mortgage. It was times like this that he got discouraged, and he began to think the big break he was waiting for would never come. His biggest fear was that he would end up an aging, wannabe rock star, playing the same local bars for the next 20 years.

  Jessi pulled his hands away from his forehead. “Stop worrying about the bills.”

  “How can you say that? We could lose the house.” He was the one who agonized over the bills and made sure they were paid. He was the responsible one. Jessi never took anything too seriously, except the band. When it came to Psychobabble, she was all business. She voluntarily took on the role as the band’s manager, and negotiated fees with local bars to ensure that they were paid top dollar. She single-handedly manned the merchandise table at all their shows. It wasn’t very profitable, but with Jessi’s flashy appearance she drew attention. There was always a crowd around her, and she used her charm to promote the band. She was very persuasive and easily coerced everyone she spoke to into buying a T-shirt or CD. She proclaimed that it was all to further the band, but Tommy knew that she craved the attention.

  “We’re not losing the house,” Jessi said. “We always get by. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  Her optimism never wavered, and it amazed him. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I believe in you, baby.” She grabbed both of his hands and held them close to her chest. “You’re good. You’re the most talented one in that band. You’re the one people come to see. They come to hear you rip up that guitar. Listen to the crowd the next time you do a guitar solo. They don’t scream like that for Brian, and he’s the lead singer. They don’t scream like that when the drummer does a drum solo. They scream for you!”

  Jessi had so much confidence in him, so much enthusiasm and certainty about his success that it made him believe in himself. No one ever supported him the way she did. His father got on his case all the time about getting a real job. He said that he wasted his college education. But Jessi sacrificed her own education for him. She dropped out of FIT, the illustrious Fashion Institute of Technology, in her last semester and took a job at a fashion house in New York City so they could save up for a wedding and buy this house. That’s how much she believed in him. He was humbled. He owed her everything. “I know that making it in the music industry is a long shot, and we’re taking a big risk with our finances, but when I listen to the way you talk, you put everything into perspective. You make me feel like I really have a chance.”

  “Of course you do, Tommy. You’re the star of the band. No matter what happens with Psychobabble, you’re going to make it. You’re going to be famous. I knew that the first time I heard you play.”

  Chapter Four

  Angel Garcia always knew he would make it big, that’s why he put all his time and energy into his music. Immortal Angel was an old-school punk rock band that had a substantial following. The name didn’t exactly scream punk rock, but the fast-paced guitar riffs, infectious beats and raunchy lyrics sure as hell did. Lately, they had been scouted by a few major record labels. No offers had been forthcoming as of yet, but the band was on the verge of getting signed. He could feel it in his gut, and his gut was never wrong.

  The recent departure of the band’s lead guitar player left the band’s future in jeopardy. The wrong person in the high profile role of lead guitar could be suicide. He refused to settle for anyone less than spectacular and, so far, no one had the spontaneous over-the-top guitar riffs he searched for. He needed a guitar player who could stand up to his powerful vocals and not get overshadowed by t
hem. Some were close, and might have fit in instrumentally, but they lacked the rock star persona that his band exemplified. He had no interest in performing a makeover. His new guitar player needed to seamlessly integrate into the band. He wanted someone who had it all – the look, the sound and the dedication. He wanted someone who lived and breathed the rock star life.

  Angel researched local bands on the internet for hours, but no one stood out. He scrolled through dozens of internet videos. Some guitar players had the look, some had the sound, but no one had both. He decided to take a different approach and just listen first, without looking at the guitar player. He was a perfectionist and maybe it was making him too critical.

  He clicked on a few videos and closed his eyes. He let the music flow through his ears. If he felt it, he opened his eyes so he could see the person behind the guitar. It was like he was a judge on a bad episode of The Voice.

  Finally, a catchy guitar riff caught his attention. He didn’t recognize the song. It was an original. The music was heavy, not his genre, but he put that aside and concentrated on the guitar. It was good, but he wanted to hear more. The guitarist broke out into a talented, thought-out solo. It ended too soon and he was disappointed. It should have been longer. A truly talented guitar player would have known that.

  He pursed his lips with frustration and was about to open his eyes, but the twang of the guitar strings thundered through the computer again and filled the room with contagious energy. He felt the beat of the music. It seeped into his bloodstream. He tapped his foot and grooved in his chair. He thought the solo was about to end, but it continued. Angel couldn’t keep his eyes closed any longer. He needed to see the face behind the music that awakened his soul, and he opened his eyes.

  The video wasn’t great. It was from far away and it was fuzzy. He couldn’t see much, especially since the entire band was head banging out of control. Their hair flew in every direction. He was surprised no one had an aneurism.