Rock Hard Love(15)

“What about you?” I asked wanting to see his hard cock, feel it as he just promised.

“I can wait. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life,” James said cryptically and kissed me again as he pulled my bra back into place and then my blouse. He broke the kiss and went to retrieve my skirt and panties.

“James, why me? I’m nothing special. I’m not as pretty as a million other women you could have. I’m nothing more than a talent agent in training,” I asked suddenly feeling unworthy. Why would this man want me? James could have any woman he wanted but he was pursuing me. I just couldn’t understand it.

“Ask me again later. Right now, we need to get back to work. Put your clothes on. You’re shameless,” James told me and I laughed at his little joke. I did as he said. If he could wait, so could I. I refused to let reality in just yet, however. I would have plenty of time to analyze this later and dissect my feelings. Right now, I just wanted to learn what I could about James and discover what made him tick. I wanted to know everything about him.





~7~



James and I spent the rest of the evening listening to Battery along with a few other heavy metal and hard rock bands that he enjoyed or that had inspired him. I was slowly gaining an appreciation for the genre, the feeling, the emotion and the raw anger. The music made me feel alive in ways my pop and contemporary music couldn’t. The similarity between the music and the way James ravished me was not lost on me. The men I’d been with before didn’t possess the passion James had and it showed. They didn’t make me feel much of anything but James made me feel everything and we hadn’t even really had sex. If he fucked like he ate my pussy, I was pretty sure I’d lose my mind.

I also spent time looking over the memorabilia and pictures about the room. I could hardly believe the skinny boy in those pictures with the long reddish hair and thin mustache was James but the eyes were identical, full of intelligence and life. The wild boy had become a man, still wild but more focused and thoughtful. At least that’s how I felt looking at the young James. Pictures of him on stage and with friends, almost always with a bottle of beer or whiskey in his hand. I saw the angst and troubles in his youthful eyes, a quality James no longer had. Now he possessed a look that spoke of the hard-earned wisdom born of his wild and crazy youth.

After sharing the cheesecake we’d taken with us, I ended the evening listening to James play his acoustic guitar for me, doing an unplugged version of “Destroyed”, the song we started the evening with that had grown from the words on the cocktail napkin on the wall. Again, I felt as if I was the woman the song referred to, especially as James sang the song just for me as he stared into my eyes. His impromptu version was even more mournful and haunting than the recorded version. I felt myself follow the man in the song to the depths of sadness and then as he was metaphorically reborn, I felt that too.

It was a special moment that I was grateful to share with James. It was even more special than the sudden, intense encounter we had shared earlier. Around eleven that night, James took me back to the office to get my little car. He was off to San Francisco in the morning to do a charity concert with Battery on Saturday, the night after next, at a small club owned by a friend. I wouldn’t see him for a few days and I was thankful for the opportunity to consider my change of heart concerning James. Honestly, I couldn’t wait to tell Josie what had happened and get her opinion on the whole situation though I could guess what her reaction would be.

“I’m glad you came over tonight and took the time to get to know me and my music. I’ll see you in a few days. See what you can do about those concert dates in the meantime. No more than thirty stops! If it’s more than that, it’ll be a year before we’re back in the studio recording a new album,” James told me. I was his agent, after all, and now it fell to me to straighten this out. I wasn’t sure I was up to the task but I was going to give it my all.

“I will. Thank you for…you know,” I said. I wanted to do something to show him how much I appreciated not only his deft tongue, but also his patience with me. Impulsively, I lifted my ass off the seat of the truck, lifted my skirt and slid my panties down my long, silken legs. James cocked an eyebrow as I handed them to him. “Something to remember me by. You’re a rock star after all and it seems appropriate. I’m sure I’m not the first fan to throw my panties at you,” I told him.

James laughed and took my beige, satin thong panties and put them to his face and inhaled. “I love the way you smell and taste, Simone,” James said and as I blushed, he hung the panties on his rear view mirror. Then he leaned across the center console, took a hand full of hair and pulled me close. His lips met mine and I wished I still had my panties on. My skirt was dry clean only and I knew it would need a trip to the cleaners after this. Our tongues danced in my mouth and his unruly goatee tickled my chin. I giggled as we parted, hot and shaky.