Rock Revenge: Alex's Story (Access All Areas 4)

at’s the best spot,” said Ferdie.

Since I was happy to stay low key, I followed him. I nodded to Hamish, the sound engineer. He’d seemed like a really nice guy when we’d been sound checking. Then I settled back and waited. The band on stage were just finishing. They were a bunch of five chicks. I wondered if I should introduce myself to them. I knew pretty much no female musos and we had to stick together in this world.

Last time I’d watched Alex play, there hadn’t been the same buzz of tension in the air. Maybe I’d been too focused on my own shit to notice it or maybe it’d been a more casual night. Now, I couldn’t help but get into the mood of it.

Carlie and Holden saw us and pushed through the crowd.

“Hey, how’s it going?” she asked. “God, I hate myself for loving this guy so much.”

I glanced at Holden, wondering how he’d take that.

“Not Holden, I mean Alex. When he gets on stage, you forget what a bag of dicks he is and how hard he is to work for and all that ‘stop giving people free drinks’ lecturing. He’s just hot sex on legs when he’s up there. It’s those damn leather pants, I swear to God. Makes you just want to lick him to see what he tastes like.”

Again, I glanced at Holden. Surely he’d be angry, but he just laughed.

“He’s nothing. Wait until you see me in my full glory, babes. You’ll be dripping wet at my feet.”

“Already am, babes.”

Ew. That was too much about their relationship for me to know. Still, Carlie was a funny chick. We’d gone out drinking the other night and she’d told me some hilarious stories about Alex. They had such a love/hate relationship. It was hard when she asked me about him though. I didn’t want to say too much. I’d once thought about blackening his name by letting the world know what he’d done but, when it came to the crunch, I couldn’t profit from my pain like that.

Ferdie ran to the bar for another round of drinks before the band started. He’d just got back in time. The lights darkened. Everything went quiet, then Alex appeared.

As he went into the first song, I began to understand what Carlie meant about those leather pants. Even when he wore them usually, it didn’t have the same effect but up there, in the lights and with all the hip-thrusting guitar moves, oh boy, was I in trouble. Well, literally in Trouble but figuratively too.

I clenched my legs together. My panties would NOT be getting wet over him. Not now. Not ever. I wasn’t sixteen-years-old anymore. He couldn’t do that to me.

Sweet Jesus, though. My teenage fantasies came flooding back, every dirty thought of the things I wanted Alex to do to my body. Surges of heat rushed through me as I watched his fingers move on the frets. Alex became someone else on that stage. His body moved with an aggressive grace. Charged like an electrical storm.

I couldn’t reconcile this man on stage, god-like and divine, with the man I knew. All the self-assuredness and all the swagger amped up into something extraordinary.

“Oh, you’ve been converted,” Carlie yelled in my ear.

I shook my head. Never. I could appreciate his performance without losing myself in it.

Only, Carlie pushed me forward with her. Edging closer to the stage, as though venturing into the eye of the storm. Closer and closer. Music engulfed me, sweaty bodies grinding and thumping. My heart beat wildly. I wanted this. I wanted to play like this, having the power to control people and build something that swarmed and flew.

Alex’s gaze searched the crowd, connecting with people. When he glanced at me, the shock almost fell me. If it wasn’t for the tight crush of people, I’d have fallen to the ground. My legs weakened and my heart exploded. Every cell in my body tingled. Inside me, I pounded to the beat, becoming one with him.

The intensity scared me stupid, I was overcome with sensation, as though drugged.

The rest of the gig went by in a blur. My body jerked and thrust, as though nothing separated us. I needed him. It might be crazy and wrong but I knew it then. Just once in this lifetime, I had to have him on top of me, grinding his hips against me, his cock buried deep.

My brain froze. Every doubt, every bit of common sense told me this was wrong. My anger vanished without a trace. I had only one objective in mind and even though I knew I shouldn’t, I couldn’t help myself.

Alex

Well, that had sucked. It’d truly sucked. Even though I’d thrown myself into the show to the best of my ability, something didn’t gel. The timing was off. Fabian missed his beats. He’d been a fucking disaster. I needed to get rid of them, both of them. Maybe it was nothing, the crowd hadn’t even noticed, but I noticed it, and it put me off. And I’d bet good money that the bigwigs noticed it too. I had no hope of impressing them now.

You couldn’t wipe those things away by saying you were having a bad day or blaming the rest of the band.

I stormed into the back room, wishing I could slam the door behind me and keep the world out. I didn’t want their sympathy or commiserations. I didn’t want any clueless nobody telling me I’d rocked out there. I’d not rocked. I’d done the opposite of rocking. Now I just wanted to wrap myself in my misery.

I grabbed my guitar and headed down the back stairs to Sally’s office. I’d lock it in there and then get out. It’d be easier to cope with this on my own. I needed fresh air and loneliness. Maybe the better part of a bottle of whiskey? I’d do that and forget the whole disaster.

I locked my gear away in the office cupboard and grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat off my face. I made doubly sure everything was secure.

Dee stood in the doorway, like a burst of fresh air. Her eyes had lost their contempt, they’d lost everything but lust and longing.