Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
I fill those broken hollow parts of myself with pretty girls and pretend. I look for her in every girl I fuck, and if I can’t see her face in the recesses of my mind, I indulge in the lie that she never left me. It’s gonna be hard with this one, though. Her golden locks interfere with the delusion.
I unbuckle my leather pants and tug them down to my knees. I used to shy away from fucking groupies in front of my bandmates, but the alcohol and the burning need to feel something other than sorrow dissolved my reluctance. It doesn’t matter, anyway; they never care to watch. Like me, they’re drowning in misery. Guess I could’ve gotten wrapped up in worse things than being a borderline sex addict. Like drowning in drugs and joining the twenty-seven club.
The blonde is good at licking pussy. Got to appreciate a sexually liberated woman. Is she a slut? Sure. But fuck it, so am I. So are ninety-nine percent of all men. Humans are whores. It’s all about the right offer and asking price. For this chick, it’s being able to say she licked the pussy of Piper Pain, the lead singer of Lifeless Lies. For someone else, it might be a billion dollars.
“Good girl,” I coo as the blonde’s tongue performs acrobatics on my clit. It’s obvious this isn’t her first rodeo, and I appreciate that.
I rest my head against the wall, closing my eyes to focus on the pleasure she’s giving me.
I didn’t see Kaye at the show. She wasn’t at the last one, either. Still a fuckin’ chicken. She’d rather hide than face me. Is she still in the closet? When I first saw her name beside Gutless Void, I frantically searched online for any information I could find on her, but there was nothing. The only images that popped up were of her standing beside the band with a stern expression and her arms crossed over her chest. Nothing about relationships or her personal life.
I’m already bored with the blonde between my legs. I tug at her hair and guide her head to where I want it. “That’s it. Show me what a desperate little slut you are. Make me believe no one can tongue fuck me like you. If you do a good enough job, I might bring you on the bus for a few nights.”
Laughter bubbles up inside me as the blonde enthusiastically goes to work. I lean back on the wall, and that’s when my gaze locks with hers. Kaye Cavendish.
She doesn’t move. Her eyes shuffle between my face and the girl between my legs. I smile at her. Hold her gaze. I want her to watch. To see another woman giving me pleasure. For her to believe that I’m over us.
But you’re not. The blonde at your feet proves you’ll never get over Kaye.
I chase the intrusive thoughts away, hooking a leg around the groupie’s neck and humping her face as I gaze at the pretty girl who’s haunted my dreams and nightmares for ten years. Wonder if the little groupie sucking my clit right now would dye her hair dark brown? Her curls are similar enough to Kaye’s.
I smile at Kaye, thinking about her pretty little face, all scrunched up in disgust while I fuck this girl in front of her. I expect her to drop her head and shuffle from the green room, but she returns my smile with a cocky one of her own and opens the door wide.
“You all know the green room isn’t the place for your hookups, right?”
She still sounds the same—a sultry jazz singer who oozes sex appeal and sin.
“Ohmygod. It’s Kaye Cavendish,” a redhead squeals as she jumps off Ryker’s lap, almost tripping over her feet to get to Kaye.
I want to laugh at the stunned look on my lead guitarist’s face as he realizes he’s lost some pussy to a road manager. Not sure who he’s kidding, anyway. It’s not like he’d ever fuck a groupie. That man only has eyes for our drummer. The way he gazes at her, you’d think she hung the sun and the moon and held the secrets to the meaning of life. Too bad Shiraz is oblivious.
The redhead saunters over to Kaye. I’m fine at first. Cool as a fuckin’ cucumber. But then the bitch touches Kaye, her long red fingernails gliding over Kaye’s navy-blue suit jacket. Those suits are such a smoke show, the opposite of who Kaye Cavendish really is. The sweet girl, trying to look tough.
Kaye’s eyes slowly roam from my face down my body, landing on my hand holding the platinum blonde head to my pussy. Kaye jerks her gaze up. She squints, and her pretty lips tilt up before turning into a straight line. One hand is a fist, while the other grabs the redheaded groupie and drags her toward her. The anger and pain burrowed deep within me snap back to a time when I was desperate for a girl who was with someone else.