The Prince of Punk Rock Read online

Page 5


  It was Angel, letting out a deep breath. He patted Tommy on the chest and let his hand rest there. “Me has robado el corazón. Deseo besarte.”

  Tommy didn’t speak Spanish. He had no idea what Angel said, but the words were romantic and beautiful. “What does that mean?”

  Angel shook his head slightly. Whatever it meant, he obviously didn’t want to say it in English. “Oh, Tommy Blade, you make it very, very hard for me to exercise any kind of self control.”

  After the show, Jessi ran backstage and hugged Tommy. “They loved you, baby. I’m so proud of you. I almost lost it out there when you played that guitar solo for me.”

  “I kept my eyes centered on you, hon. Seeing you rock out at the front of the stage always pushes me to play harder. What was it like, being in the middle of that crowd?”

  Laughter floated up from her throat as she relived the excitement that still ran through her body from the show. “Oh my God! I thought thrash rock fans were wild. Punk rock fans are a total different kind o’ crazy. I met so many fans tonight and they’re all so nice.”

  Angel joined them, wiped his brow with a towel and slung his arm around Tommy. “Our boy slayed everyone tonight. I know how good he was. How’d the rest of us sound?”

  The our boy caught Jessi a little off guard, but she glossed over it and gave Angel a big hug. “Immortal Angel is better than half the shit you hear on the radio. I’m serious. You need to get a demo in front of some record labels. Oh, and where’s your merch table? I wanted to tell people to make sure they picked up a CD and a T-shirt, but I couldn’t find it.”

  Tommy affectionately slid his hand across the small of her back. “That’s my wife, always trying to promote the band.”

  “So what about that merch table?” Jessi asked again.

  “I can’t seem to hold onto anyone steady to man a merch booth. I usually just go out after the show and sell shirts and CDs myself.” Angel scratched the back of his head and wrinkled his nose. “Do you want to help me? It sounds like you were working the crowd tonight. I could use a little help with advertising and promoting the band too. My public relations skills aren’t the best. I’m not as much of a people-person as you are. I think you’d be really good at it.”

  “I would love to. I used to do that for Tommy’s old band. I did the entire street teaming, by myself most of the time. I handed out flyers at concerts, and I would give out stickers to lure people to the merch table at the shows.” She was rambling, but she couldn’t stop. She was too excited. It wasn’t just the shots of tequila fueling her enthusiasm. With Angel managing the band, Tommy really did need her and she felt a little sidelined. But, now that she was going to be in charge of the merchandising and she would be helping promote the band, she would be directly involved in the band again. She was back!

  Chapter Ten

  Jessi set up the merch table at the next show and people gathered around her right away. A girl flipped through some shirts, checked their sizes and held one up. It was oversized for her small frame, but she bought it anyway. It gave Jessi an idea for sexy, fitted tank tops and baby doll tees. She was already sketching designs in her head.

  She glanced around the room and spotted a few people she remembered from the last gig. Kira and Audra were in front of the stage, probably securing their spot so they had the best possible view of Angel. They were young, pretty girls and they were always together. They were loyal fans, and both had a crush on Angel.

  A girl starting rifling through the shirts and haphazardly tossing them back on the table without refolding them.

  “Hi. Can I help you find a size?”

  “No. I’m just looking. Are you the one who's married to the new guitar player?”

  “Yes, I'm Jessi.”

  The limp handshake was less than cordial.

  “How long have you known Angel?” The girl unfolded another shirt and threw it down on the table.

  “I didn't know him at all before this. I just met him about two months ago when he called me about Tommy.”

  “Well, I've known Angel forever. We're very close.”

  The girl was a friend of Angel’s. Maybe that explained the air of resentment that she projected. She was exaggerating her words to make a point. Jessi didn't know if it was because she was drunk or if she was jealous of her friendship with Angel. “I'm sorry. I didn't get your name.”

  She stared down her nose at Jessi. “You mean you don't know who I am? I'm Kendall Rose. I'm a singer. I should be getting a record deal very soon with either Galaxy or Pacific. I'm haven't decided which label to go with yet.”

  “Well, good luck with that.” Jessi wasn't impressed. It sounded like a load of bullshit, but she wasn’t about to get into a confrontation.

  Kendall glanced down at the merchandise table. “I would have done this for Angel. I've sold merchandise before. I grew up in the music industry. I wouldn’t have let him pay me either. I would have done it for free.”

  “Angel isn't paying me. My husband's in the band. I'm not going to take money—”. She stopped herself. She wasn't about to let Kendall bait her into an argument. Jessi wanted Kendall to leave, but she stayed, and rattled on in a one-sided conversation.

  There were few people in this world that Jessi instantly disliked, and Kendall was one of them. Kendall was self-absorbed and shallow. A phony. She couldn’t stop talking about herself, and about Angel.

  Jessi was far from innocent when it came to partying, but she always managed to maintain a level of decorum. Kendall was a sloppy drunk. Her clothes were trashy and her hair and makeup were a mess.

  When Kendall finally left the merch table, the neat piles of shirts were now strewn about in disarray. Jessi smirked in Kendall’s direction and started refolding them.

  “Who are you glaring at, hon?” Tommy handed her a drink and tried to follow her gaze across the room.

  “No one worth getting upset about.” Jessi shook the scowl from her face and smiled at Tommy. “Thanks for the drink, baby.”

  “I feel bad. You’re stuck back here instead of mingling with everybody and having a good time.”

  “No, I’m fine! A lot of people I met at the last show are stopping by to say hello and buying shirts. But, don’t worry. I’m going to close up shop and be right up front when you go on. You know I’d never miss that.”

  “Thanks, honey. You do such much. I really appreciate it.”

  “I’d do more if I could.”

  A group of people with an excited glow approached the merch table and introduced themselves to Tommy. They were fans. Tommy had fans. Jessi didn’t know if he was more surprised or flattered, but she was proud. It’s about damn time he got the recognition he deserved. And then the girls started lining up to meet him. Luckily, she wasn’t the jealous type and trusted Tommy’s loyalty, because groupies were part of the rock star life, and she knew this was just the beginning.

  She sold some shirts and when she looked up, Tommy was gone. She scanned the room for him. He was at the bar, and Kendall was talking to him. Jessi watched them with suspicion. She couldn’t quite identify exactly what bothered her so much about Kendall, but a persistent little voice in her head told her that Kendall was trouble.

  After the show, Angel spotted one of his regulars. He hadn’t seen Corey in a while and, normally, his presence would have made Angel’s dick jump in his pants. Corey meant a few hours of no-strings-attached, raunchy, uninhibited sex – until the next time Corey showed up at one of his gigs. But, tonight, all he wanted to do was run and hide. He tried to duck through the crowd with his head down, but Corey grabbed his arm from behind.

  “Where are you running off to?”

  “Sorry, I just, um, I have something I need to take care of.” Angel’s response was jittery and nervous.

  Corey leaned back on one leg and raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Are you blowing me off?”

  “Tonight’s not a good night.”

  “Really? That’s a first.”

  “I’m s
orry.” He squeezed Corey’s arm apologetically. “I gotta go.” Angel darted to the bar, beads of sweat sprinkled across his forehead, and ordered a shot of Johnnie Walker. He chugged it back and almost choked on the harsh whiskey. When he put the shot glass down, Damien was at his side.

  “Since when do you pass up a piece of ass?”

  Hesitation cut off Angel’s answer. Damien knew him too well to hide the truth. They’d been friends since high school. Damien came to his defense when a prominent member of the wrestling team was giving him a hard time. Even back then, without the rebellious mohawk, the piercings and the gory tattoos, Damien was still intimidating. It was the intensity in his eyes that warned people that he wasn’t about to take any shit. The 200 pounds of muscle that tried to bully Angel quickly backed down and went on his way.

  When Angel learned that Damien played bass and also worshipped pioneers in punk rock like The Ramones and The Clash, they became friends. Angel was astounded when he heard Damien play. He was fast and aggressive and he could lay down one hell of an original and compelling baseline. That’s when Angel knew his dream of forming an old school punk rock band was about to materialize. He found Jimmy at a local bar by accident, pounding the drums too hard and too fast for the classic rock music he was trying to play. Add a kick-ass lead guitarist by way of Jimmy’s cousin, and Immortal Angel was born.

  Angel recalled the sick feeling in his gut when Jimmy’s cousin announced he was quitting the band. Now he realized it was a Godsend. It opened the door for one Tommy Blade to claim the rightful place at his side.

  Damien chucked him on the arm to get his attention. “I said, since when do you pass up a piece of ass? I know that guy only comes around when he wants to fuck you.”

  Angel tried to stammer a response, but Damien cut him off.

  “Got your eye on someone else, huh?”

  “Yes, I most certainly do.” Angel displayed a dreamy smile and placed his hand on his chest. “Someone else has stolen my heart.”

  Damien’s eyes turned to steel. “It’s Tommy, isn’t it? I told you to stay away from him. You’re gonna fuck up our dream.”

  Angel fumbled for an answer, but Damien was right. He should have just gone home with Corey and forget about Tommy. Tommy was a married man. It was just sexual chemistry that they shared. Harmless flirting. But the intense lust-filled gazes Tommy constantly bestowed upon him felt genuine. The energy that transpired between them on stage was raw and primal. Off stage wasn’t much different. Subtlety wasn’t on the menu for either one of them. Still, he should stop fantasizing about a relationship with Tommy. His head knew it was the smart thing to do, but his heart refused to listen to reason.

  Jessi was all over Tommy in the car on the way home. The taxi driver kept glancing at them through the rear view mirror, probably hoping to catch a glimpse of a blow job. If Tommy didn't stop her, the driver's wish may have come true. She had too much to drink after tonight’s show. They both did.

  Jessi shed her clothes as soon as they walked through the door. Tommy barely had his belt off when she shoved her hand down his pants and grabbed him. She pushed him against the door and gave him a hard, beefy kiss.

  He smacked her naked butt and chased her upstairs to the bedroom.

  She jumped on the bed and pulled him down. She stripped him of his pants, impatient to put her lips to his flesh. He laid back and let her glorious mouth engulf him. She sucked him hard and strong, and held him tightly in her hand. The other hand ran underneath him, and tickled him. She licked her finger, and returned her hand to his bottom and inserted one finger. It was a little too dry, but the small amount of pain felt oh so good. He loved when she was aggressive in bed. She knew his body. She knew how much pressure he loved inside him. She knew the spot that drove him mad.

  Her mouth covered him with wet kisses. Her tongue waltzed over his body in perfect tempo with her hand. Music manifested inside his head and brought him into a realm of bliss. Every pore of his body breathed heaven. The air filled his lungs deeper with each breath, until he thought he might float away.

  Visions of Angel, in his tight leather pants, popped into Tommy’s head. He fantasized that it was Angel's fingers inside him and Angel's dark black hair tickling his inner thigh. He imagined that it was Angel's thick pink tongue licking him and bringing him pleasure. He imagined putting his hand on the back of Angel's head and pushing himself deeper into the back of Angel's throat. A kaleidoscope of colors exploded in his head as an orgasm took over and shook his body.

  It was ecstasy.

  It was Jessi.

  She was wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She straddled him and smiled down at him, her lids half closed with a lusty haze. He reached up and caressed her breasts. His erection barely deflated before it began to swell to an enormous dimension. She put it inside her and pushed down, letting the weight of her body swallow him. She leaned her head back and let out a long moan. She held onto his waist and began to ride him while her hair floated around her face. He loved her so much.

  He could hear her knees scraping against the sheets. She was waxed clean and her flesh grew hotter than fire as it rubbed against him, skin against skin, before a gush of warm wetness drenched him. Her momentum gradually slowed. She was done, but he was just getting started. He grabbed her hips and propelled her body back and forth faster and faster. She was grunting and moaning loudly. The window was open and Tommy started to worry that the neighbors might think he was killing her and call the police. He was on the verge of coming, on the tip of the ice berg, but he couldn’t quite get there. It was frustrating, and it made him animalistic. He began to groan and beg for release. The longer it took, the more he wanted it and the louder he cried out. Finally, his orgasm detonated and caused his whole body to convulse violently.

  Jessi fell down on top of him, gasping for air. She was covered in sweat. “You’re a fuckin’ stallion.” She looked up at the small clock radio, still panting. “Do you know you just fucked me for almost three hours? How is that possible?”

  “I love you, that’s how.” Then he kissed her.

  She lay on her side of the bed, still slightly out of breath, and put her hand on her chest to feel her heart beating.

  Tommy rolled over to face her and put his hand on top of hers. He could feel the steady rapid thumping of her wonderful heart against her magnificent breast. He moved her hand and kissed her heart lightly. He touched her cheek and looked into her beautiful pale blue-gray eyes. “I love you, hon. You’re the world to me.”

  “I love you too, baby.”

  Tommy kissed her, slowly, gently. He was lucky to have her in his life. He began to think about Angel, and he felt ashamed. He felt guilty for fantasizing about Angel, while he made love to Jessi. He silently berated himself for thinking about Angel so often. It was disloyal. She was the most wonderful, beautiful, unselfish person in the world, and he betrayed her by caring about someone else.

  She held him and played with his hair, as he rested his head on her shoulder. Maybe he was thinking about it too much. Maybe his head was fucked up because he had too much to drink, but he knew one thing, Angel wasn’t just a fun time. Angel was serious.

  Since the first day he met Angel, Tommy’s hormones have been colliding together in chaos. He wanted to be with Angel all the time. It was an obsession, an addiction. At first, he thought it was just infatuation and would diminish, but it didn’t. It grew and nurtured, like a weed in the pouring rain. His feelings for Angel grew stronger every day. He craved Angel’s presence like a drug. It didn’t matter if they were alone together, or in a room with a dozen other people. Angel’s physical presence was the medication Tommy needed to remedy his desire. When they weren’t together, his thoughts kept drifting back to Angel. The touch of Angel’s hand on his shoulder, the scent of those sweet droplets of sweat that fell from Angel’s brow when he danced all over the stage, the sound of Angel’s adorable, boyish laugh – all were stamped into Tommy’s memory and could be summoned up
at will. All he needed to do was close his eyes.

  Tommy didn’t understand the duality of his feelings. He had no control over them. He would die without Jessi, yet, his heart was drawn to another. It left him in a constant state of remorse and guilt. He was torn between the woman he loved and the man who ignited a fire in him that he never knew existed. It was an internal battle and he was afraid that, in the end, there would be no winner. Someone was bound to get hurt.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You remember the place.” Angel motioned Jessi to come inside. “Make yourself comfortable while I get us a drink.”

  Jessi had only been to Angel’s apartment once before, when he made dinner for her and Tommy. Now that she was helping him with advertising and merchandising, she would be meeting with him on a regular basis. She took a seat at the breakfast bar and ran her fingers across the Corian countertop. She wished she had a breakfast bar in her house, but they couldn’t afford to remodel the kitchen. As she watched Angel pour two glasses of diet soda, she admired his apartment again. It was exactly what she expected from an aspiring rock star: leather couches, a gigantic flat screen TV and a powerful stereo system. Angel had a penchant for animal prints. There was a zebra striped rug in the living room, leopard covered stools at the breakfast bar and she could see a glimpse of a leopard throw on the bed through the open bedroom door.

  He lived on the other side of Brooklyn, in Williamsburg. The area was too congested and too expensive for Jessi, but she could see why Angel lived there. The entire area was re-developed and much different from a decade ago. Hipsters, musicians and vagabonds populated the neighborhood, and the small bars hosted an array of live indie music every night of the week. Restaurants were in abundance and rich with culture. “This is a great neighborhood, but parking’s impossible.”