Sex, Desires & Rock N Roll Read online

  “Awww, come on, Jules, give us something. We’ve been dying for details since you got back.” Tracy pulls out the big guns and starts with those puppy dog eyes. Before she can get too far, I relent.

  “Okay, okay. Just… just put away the puppy eyes. First, the vineyard and Enzo were amazing. I had to pinch myself several times to see that it was actually real. And then, well… you both know Dash showed up. He… he was… it was one of the, if not the best night of my life. He was so attentive and sweet and… and…” I can’t formulate the words to express how deeply I feel.

  “So, you’re not mad that we told him where you were?” Tracy’s question surprises me a little, but when I think about it, it really shouldn’t surprise me.

  “No. I understand why you told him. I know you guys want me to live and not just survive, and believe me, I want that too. That’s why… that’s why I made an appointment to see that doctor that Detective York gave me the card for.”

  Val’s fork clatters on her plate, and when I look up at both of them, their eyes are glassy. Val’s bottom lip trembles slightly, and both of them reach out to me. I easily slip my hands into theirs. No words are needed. Our eyes and our hands speak for us. We stay silent like this for what feels like hours, but in reality, it’s only a couple of minutes. They both give my hands a tight squeeze before letting go. Tracy clears her throat, and Val excuses herself to go to the restroom. I know this is more for Val than Tracy, only because she was there at the end. I keep my emotions at bay. Val comes back a few minutes later, composed. The heaviness that surrounded us earlier dissipates when Tracy asks, “So is he a good kisser or what? Because those lips look like they could kiss a girl stupid.”

  God, I love Tracy so much sometimes. I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, and then Val joins in. The three of us giggle like we’re in high school, discussing boys and our crushes. It feels good. It feels normal. It feels like living. Our giggles subside. “Well?” Val quirks an eyebrow, pointing her glass at me.

  “Call me stupid.”

  “I knew it!” Tracy’s enthusiastic response disturbs a few tables around us. I give the patrons an apologizing glance.

  “Keep it down, groupie.” Val gives Tracy her stern PR voice.

  “Pfft. Like you didn’t want to know. I just beat you to it. And no I’m not a ‘groupie’ when it comes to Dash. Lance, on the other hand…”

  “Yeah, yeah, we know he’s dreamy and your future baby’s daddy. Blah, blah, blah.”

  “You’re funny, Winston. If I recall, the other night you couldn’t keep your eyes off of a certain bald-headed, tattooed, muscled drummer. Hmmm… got something to say about that?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  I watch them volley back and forth. I knew about Tracy’s obsession with Lance, but Val having a thing for Vic I so didn’t see. I know even if she’s attracted to him, she wouldn’t act on it. The job always comes first with her.

  Val diverts the attention away for the current conversation. “So, he kissed you stupid. I’m so happy for you, sweetie. I… I just hope this means that…”

  “I’m trying, Val. I’m really trying. It’s hard though, ya know. I mean, I’m not sure what I’m doing when it comes to Dash. I don’t know anything really. I have more questions than I have answers. I want to think that possibly I can put things behind me and really move forward, but… I just hope seeing Dr. Hoffman will help me stop… stop all of this.” I tap my fingers to my temple. I’ve told them both about how I still hear Blake’s voice and his taunts and cruel words.

  “But this is all new to me. Part of me wants to bask in how he makes me feel. But then another part of me wants to run far, far away, especially when he finds out the truth of how broken and damaged I really am.” There’s no emotion in my voice. I’m robotic as I recite Blake’s words.

  “First, you are not fuckin’ broken and damaged, and I pray to God that this Dr. Hoffman can help you finally see that. Second, I know… we know you’re scared, and we understand that completely. But know this—Dash Ford, rock star or not, is lucky to even know you, Jules. You are an amazing young woman, and if he can’t clearly see that, then he’s not the one. But from how he’s been, I think he realizes that. You have to give him the benefit of the doubt when it comes to your past. I think… no, I know he’ll understand because he’s just that guy. I wouldn’t have told him where you were staying in Napa if I didn’t truly believe that. So please put those notions out of your head. If anything, you are too good for him, not the other way around.”

  “Thank you.”

  “That’s what I’m here for. That’s what we’re here for. Now, the guys are starting rehearsals soon for their upcoming European tour, as well as some time in the studio to start laying down tracks for their sophomore CD. I just thought I’d put that out there in case you the desire to stop by. Just saying.” Val’s lips turn up into a mischievous grin. I have a feeling that a certain rock star wanted me to know that little bit of information.

  I SIT IN the back of the dark warehouse space just watching Dash rehearse. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. His stage persona is unlike the real him. Stage Dash is confident, controlling, and tense. While the real Dash, the one that I know and have been with, is still confident, but there is a tenderness lying underneath that confidence. He isn’t really controlling—yes, he needs and wants things a certain way—but from what I’ve seen and experienced, he goes with the flow and he isn’t tense. He has a quiet calm, a stillness about him. Stage Dash and Real Dash are like Yin and Yang, two opposite pieces fitting together, complementing each other, and offering what the other lacks. Not that Dash is lacking anything—quite the contrary. I continue to stare at him and listen to him sing bits and pieces of songs when I feel a strong presence next me. I turn to my left, and I am surprised to see Alex settling down next to me.

  “Hey, Alex,” I cheerfully acknowledge him.

  “Hey, yourself.” He smiles at me.

  A silence settles around us. It’s making me a feel a little uncomfortable. I’m not really sure why he’s here talking to me, unless Dash instructed him to do so, just to keep an eye on me. I glace out of the corner of my eye and notice his attention is directed toward the stage. I return my own attention to it. The guys are huddled together discussing something. Lance’s arms are flailing around as he speaks. Dash rakes a hand through his hair, an action I’ve noticed he does when he’s agitated or frustrated. Vic sits behind his drum kit shaking his head with a huge-ass smile on his face. They’re kinda comical to watch. The silence around us presses in on me, so I clear my throat and break it. “So…”

  “So, you and Ford, huh?”

  “What?” I question, a little confused and surprised.

  “You and Ford are a thing, right?” He lifts his chin toward the stage.

  “I… we’re… we’re getting to know each other.” I’m at a loss for how to really respond. Dash and I haven’t exactly labeled what we are, and I don’t want to assume anything.

  “Just be careful. I would hate to see you get hurt by all this.”

  “I’m… I’m… I’m not going to get hurt.” My voice wavers; I don’t know who I’m trying to convince more—him or myself.

  Alex angles his body toward me, diverting his eyes from the stage to mine. “Look, Jules, I’ve been in this field a long time. First, just following my dad around when he did it, and then taking over when he retired. Trust me; I’ve seen a lot of things, doing what I do. This business chews up and spits out caring, innocent people like yourself. I know Dash will do his damnedest to protect you, but he can only do so much. You… you seem like a really nice girl from what I gather. I just would hate to see you tainted and see all that get destroyed because of all of this.” Alex’s voice holds nothing but concern and the truth. I know he’s right. I know deep down I may not be cut out for Dash’s world. I know I’m not. You’re not, and you never will be. But I can’t stay away from him. No matter how much I k
now it would probably be best if I did, I just can’t.

  “I appreciate you looking out for me, Alex, I really do. I know I am basically an outsider when it comes to this world. I… I just want to get to know him, that’s all.” Is that really all? Am I deluding myself?

  “Just be careful, okay?” He grabs my hand, squeezes it, and then pulls me in for an awkward hug before getting up and leaving.

  I am left on edge after Alex leaves. His comments swirl around in my head. The word “tainted” is bold and dripping with truth, but not the truth Alex spoke of. I am tainted. I am damaged. I am broken. And when Dash discovers that, I know he won’t be so understanding. I know I will see nothing but disgust in his eyes. I know he’ll walk away and never look back. And that scares me the most. To see him look at me other than the way he has since I’ve met him. And I know when that happens, I’ll be nothing more than shards and ash. Because something deep down tells me that whatever Dash and I are embarking on can and will have a devastating effect. And I know I’m not strong enough to survive. My eyes gaze to the stage, and Dash’s eyes meet mine and there is a look of confusion on his face. I smile, hoping to erase them. He smiles back but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns to Lance, and they both look to me. I can see he’s about to jump off the stage and come to me, and I can’t let him do that. I can’t be a distraction. I won’t be. I don’t need to see pity in his eyes and have his words be empty promises. I smile widely and motion for him to stay put. He gives me a look that says “are you kidding me?” I straighten my spine and give him my best bitch brow. His lips form a thin line and he nods, acquiescing, then turns his attention back to the band. I continue to watch as doubt as to why I’m even here festers.

  “Hello, Julia.” A deep voice breaks through my haze, sending chills down my spine.

  No one’s called me Julia since… I don’t allow anyone to call me Julia. I’m Jules. Always Jules.

  I turn, and Roland is standing next to me. His presence feels dark and cold, unlike the first time I met him at the concert. There’s something familiar about him, but I’m being paranoid. Him calling me Julia has thrown me.

  “It’s Jules, actually. Just Jules.”

  He steps closer, leaving the shadows behind, and when I look at him, his smile is warm but his eyes tell a different story. They’re dark and emotionless. It’s like staring into a fathomless black hole. And then, just like that, the darkness is gone, replaced with light. “Sorry, Jules. Are you enjoying yourself?”

  I still feel less than at ease, but I ignore it. “Yes, I am. Dash is amazing. The whole band is.”

  “I’m glad you think so because… How do I put this delicately… I am their manager, and as their manager, I have their best interests at heart. I want to see my boys succeed beyond all expectations, and anything that gets in the way of that is collateral damage. Now that being said, I like you Jules. You seem like a nice girl…”

  “But?”

  “But, like I said, I can’t let anything get in way of their success. Anything or anyone. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  My heart pounds wildly in my chest. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Something about Roland is dangerous. He keeps it well hidden, but I’ve just caught a glimpse of it, and it scares me. The scare is familiar. I swallow, putting my fear aside as best I can. I became an expert at hiding this kind of fear. Blake taught me that. I make sure to leave all hesitation out of my voice and words. “I understand completely. You have nothing to worry about. I want Dash and the guys to succeed beyond his and your wildest dreams.” I add on that last statement for good measure.

  “Good. I’m glad we understand things.” Roland gives a curt nod and disappears into the shadows.

  I release the breath I had been holding—my lungs welcoming the much-needed air. I lock Roland’s words in my vault. I don’t need to dwell on them, not at the moment. But that part of me, the part I can never control, tells me he’ll be true to his word. If I become a distraction or get in the way—I’ll become collateral damage. And I don’t want to be that for Dash or the band—a distraction, an inconvenience. I want them to have all they deserve, and if that means… I stop my train of thought. Dash and I aren’t even a Dash and I. We’re just getting to know each other, and nothing more. Who’s to say that this, whatever this is, is going to go somewhere other than where it is now? I mean, Dash is clearly a caliber of man I’ve never experienced, and his world is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Who’s to stay I’m strong enough for it or him? What can I possibly give him that he hasn’t had already? And in reality, I’m not strong enough to take what his world has to dish out. Tracy has told me some crazy stories over the years about bands she’s followed. I doubt Redemption is anything different. That Dash is anything different. Who’s to say I’m not just another conquest, another game to him? I know our interaction feels different to me, but what if it doesn’t to him? My mind starts spiraling out of control with all the what if’s, and I can vaguely hear Blake in the background laughing, acknowledging that I’m right. That my train of thought is spot on. I can offer Dash nothing. I have nothing for him. I am nothing. I feel the black tendrils whip and strike out. I try to collect and right myself—to ward off the darkness. I need… I need… I frantically scan the stage for Dash. I don’t see him anywhere. Worry and doubt start to settle in further, wrapping their cold arms around me. “I need to get out of here.” My words fall into the emptiness of the room. I grab my purse and coat, my eyes scanning for the quickest and closest exit. On shaky legs, I begin my search. Before I can get too far, I feel a warm hand grasp my wrist, halting my movement. I’d recognize his touch anywhere. Dash. My heart constricts in my chest, my lungs begging for me to breathe. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying with everything I have to compose myself. I don’t want him to see the fear and panic that’s consuming me. I don’t need him to see how damaged and broken I am. I don’t need or want his pity.

  With my mask in place, I slowly turn to face Dash. He takes my breath away. His shirt is damp with sweat and molds to his chest, outlining the definition of his toned muscles underneath. My heart starts to beat a little faster as I take in the sight before me. My eyes roam his torso and slowly inch their way up. The whole entire time, silence covers us. I can vaguely make out the difference in our breathing—the only noticeable sound. I scan upward. His pink tongue darts out and licks his lips. My body reacts instantly. A tingle prickles up from my toes and swells out to all parts of my body, intensifying and growing as it travels. My eyes meet his, and all that I was previously feeling, doubting, flies out the window. Dash’s gaze and what it holds chases away the darkness and invades with an intense light. Roland’s words in the vault shake and rattle, but the light penetrates and dissolves them. Doubt is a distant memory. Worry is a forgotten notion. Looking at Dash, staring into his deep blue eyes, looking directly into what I so desperately need, does that. I feel prickling behind my eyes and fight against the onslaught of tears I know are dying to become known. My lip trembles, but I don’t think Dash notices. What is this man doing to me? I wait to hear a reminder of my past to interrupt this moment. To echo unwanted thoughts in my head, but there’s nothing but complete and utter silence. Dash takes a step forward eliminating any space between us. His hand reaches up and cups my cheek. His touch is tender and understanding. He can read me like an open book. And if I’m honest, that scares me to my core. My eyes flutter as Dash leans forward and his lips brush against mine, igniting a spark deep within me. His warm breath fans my face. “I’m here. I’m here.” His words a whisper, a promise on my lips before he consumes me. His free arm snakes around me waist and pulls me to him. My hands brace against his chest, feeling his heart beat a staccato rhythm. And I am lost and found all at once. I breathe him in—a scent that is uniquely him, like the ocean and like being on stage—it calms me further. My fingers grip the damp material of his shirt, needing to get closer to him. His hands wrap around my head and bring me into his chest, cradling me.
I meld against him, the steady rhythm I hear in my ear settles me further. Dash said he was my trigger the other night, but he’s wrong—dead wrong. He is my comfort, my sanctuary, and I don’t think I will ever be able to let that go. Let him go. He begins to hum that familiar tune. My eyes close, and I relinquish all thoughts to him. I relinquish everything to him. Mind. Body. Soul. At this moment I know that Dash Ford has my heart, and he has the ability to care for it and shatter it as well. I push the thought out my mind. I need to just be in the moment. I need this moment. Dash drops his hands from my head and grips my shoulders, putting some space between us. We just stare at each other in silent understanding. It feels as though it happens in slow motion as Dash leans toward me. His lips brush against mine before he pulls away. He scans my face, looking for permission? Looking for an answer? Looking for certainty? He must find what he’s looking for in my eyes, for he leans in, his lips capturing mine. His tongue seeks mine, and I part my lips, welcoming him. Our tongues dance and tease. Dash pulls me even tighter against him, and I feel his hard length on my stomach. It spurs me on, and my hands feel their way up and wind around his neck pulling him closer. A deep groan resonates from his throat, eliciting my own moan to push through. However, before things can progress any further, he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine. Our chests rise and fall in rapid unison, our breaths mingling in the space between us.

  “Tell me you’re okay.”

  I nod.

  He swallows. “Good. Good.”

  I swear I hear him curse after mumbling “slow” right as he pulls away, putting some much-needed distance between us. My eyes take him in; his hair disheveled, his shirt damp with sweat, his eyes bright, hands stuffed into the pockets of his low-riding jeans. He stands before me as the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Alex’s warning echoes in my head, knowing he’s right but not wanting him to be. How can I possibly be enough for the man before me? What do I have to offer him that he hasn’t already experienced? You have nothing to offer him. You’re damaged. You’re broken. You would be smart to remember that.