I did a bad thing.
He gave me no choice;
they gave me no choice.
I did a bad thing.
And I don’t regret it,
not one fucking bit.
I did a bad thing.
It changed everything…
~~~
I knew she had a
secret.
A past.
But all that shit? None
of it mattered, in the beginning.
Now?
Yeah. She should’ve
told me…
Lily
Sweat coats my skin as I grind against the metal pole, the
heat’s verging on over-powering, and even though I’m wearing next-to-nothing
the feel of cold steel beneath my fingers is still more than welcome.
Loud music pounds from concealed speakers, wrapping itself
around me, the dimly-lit club vibrating to the beat of a heavy rock track, and
I close my eyes and lean back against the thick metal pole, gripping it loosely
as I slide slowly down, spreading my legs, my arms raised high above my head,
and still that thumping beat washes over me, allowing me to lose myself in the
music.
So many eyes are on me right now, but I like that. It gets
me off, it’s what I do now – demand attention from men so weak all it takes is
a smile; a flash of my tits and they’re mine. They’re all fucking mine.
Winding my legs around the pole, I feel that familiar rush
flood through me, taking me over. The music seems louder, the beat heavier as I
twist my body down the cool metal, feeling it slide between my thighs – thighs
I know most of the men in this club would kill to get between. But they’ll
never get the chance. I don’t go there, this isn’t that kind of place.
Reaching the floor, I set one spike-heeled boot down first,
then the other, hands on hips as I throw back my head, I’m lapping up every
second of the attention I’m getting. Almost every man in this room wants me,
and that’s good, that means I’m doing my job. I’ve worked hard to make sure
this is the way things are now, I want that power, and I have it, in spades.
Falling to my knees, I allow myself a second to scan the
crowded bar – this place is my home now. From the well-groomed men in suits
that have probably told their wives they’re talking business at some sushi
restaurant, to the tattooed bad boy bikers that always outnumber the former, to
the A-list celebrities that make this their hang-out of choice when they’re in
Vegas, they’re all here to see me. To watch me dance, see me this close to
naked; fantasize over everything they’ll never get, very few men even get close
to touching me, to touching any of us girls. And those that do – those that
choose to pay for the private rooms – they get what they’re given. It’s all at
our discretion. We call the shots,
they play on our terms.
With one swift flick of my hand, I tear off my black
strapless bra, flinging it aside, hands on my rock-hard thighs, my back arched
slightly, pushing my tits up to heaven. This
is my power. Every man in this room is right where I want them, and I’ll
never tire of that feeling.
I find myself staring out into the crowd again, something I
don’t usually make a habit of, I have no idea why I’m doing it so much tonight.
But as I once more scan the room, my eyes suddenly lock with those of a man who
seems vaguely familiar to me. He’s one hot
son-of-a-bitch, too, but I can’t quite place where I’ve seen him before. If
he’d paid for a private room, I’d’ve remembered someone like him. Dressed in
dark pants, cowboy boots, and a white shirt, the sleeves of which are rolled up
to his elbows, exposing tanned, heavily tattooed hands and forearms – it almost
makes him a contradiction. Somewhat smartly dressed, yet those tattoos – and
those boots – they tell me there’s
probably another side to him, and that excites me. Predictability isn’t my
thing. I’m almost addicted to danger; the thrill that comes with spontaneity.
And this man, he seems dangerous to me, the way he’s sitting – right back in
his seat, his long legs stretched out in front of him, it smacks of a laid back
arrogance.
I hold his gaze for probably a second or two longer than I
should’ve done, but his stare, it’s setting every nerve-ending in my body on
red alert, and I’m starting to like it just a little too much. I can’t let that
happen. I’m not giving him a private show here. So I break that stare, I stand
up. I turn around, bury my fingers in my mane of dark curls; I start to walk
away, but the look I throw over my shoulder as I strut off the stage, that’s
just for him. And it’s only when I’m safely back in the dressing-room that I realize
his eyes had constantly been on mine – they hadn’t fixed on my tits or stared
longingly at my thighs in the hope that the heaven that lies between them would
be exposed. He’d looked at me. And
that in itself is enough to send a shiver of raw excitement shooting right
through me.
The adrenaline’s still coursing through my veins as I grab a
robe from the back of the dressing room door, smiling to myself as I check my reflection
in the mirror. I’m practically glowing! Because I love what I do. I love
messing with men’s heads. I’m playing games. Games I always win…
Seth
Running a hand along the back of my neck, I let out a long,
almost drawn-out breath. I’m not a stranger to this private club tucked away
amidst the bright lights and huge, towering hotels of the Las Vegas Strip, but
sometimes these girls have a habit of hitting you right in the solar plexus
when you least expect it. It’s almost as though they can sense any tiny shred
of vulnerability, and take advantage of that without even realizing they’re
doing it. Not that I’m vulnerable. Far from it. They’re just something to look
at, these girls. Something to help take my mind off whatever shit’s happening
outside, they’re forgettable, throwaway dancing dolls. But that one there – with
the killer hips and eyes that seemed to stare right into me – there’s something
about her that I can’t seem to let go of.
“Are we staying here all freakin’ night?”
I stand up and raise a questioning eyebrow at the scowling
young man in front of me. “You telling me you don’t like it here?”
“I frigging love it here, Jesus! It’s like all my fucking Christmases have come at once, but
I’m wrecked, man! That was one kick-ass set we played tonight, and all I’m
ready for now is a few beers over at Clay’s and some mindless sex with any
pretty face that wants it. Then I’m gonna sleep for two days.”
I raise that eyebrow again, a slight smirk on my face. “So,
you’re banking on there definitely being
a pretty face that wants you, huh, Cal?”
Cal looks at me as though I’ve just said something
completely ridiculous, laughing an almost disbelieving laugh as he drains the
last of his beer before tossing the bottle aside. He’s a rock star. He gets
away with that shit.
“I’m gonna round up the rest of the band. You coming?”
I glance quickly behind me, as if I still expect her to be
there, on the stage – the girl with the shit-hot body and legs that seemed to
go on forever. “I’ll meet you in a bit.” I turn back to face Cal. “Clay’s,
right?”
Cal nods before turning around and making his way back over
to the bar.
Bowing my head, I rub the back of my neck again. I really
need to sleep. The past few weeks have been crazy, and all of a sudden it feels
as if everything’s catching up with me, Christ, maybe I’m getting too old for
this shit. Hell! Who am I kidding? I’m
never gonna to be too old for this shit. This shit’s in my blood, always has
been. Cal Connor may be the hot young rock star right now, but I know exactly
what it’s like to stand in those boots of his…
Seth
I’d been one of the biggest names in rock, once. No, fuck
that, I’m selling myself short here. I still am one of the biggest names in rock. I’m a fucking legend!
Deep and gravel-toned, that’s how they’d described my voice
when I’d been starting out, and it was that, and my dark, brooding good looks –
‘cause I’m one handsome son-of-a-bitch, make no mistake – that won me a fan
base to outnumber any of my rivals back in the day. I’ve sold millions of
records all over the world, played to sell-out crowds at gigs and festivals in
so many countries I can’t even remember; had groupies falling at my feet
wherever I went, some of which I took advantage of, come on! Of course I did!
I’d been one of the biggest rock stars in the world, for Christ’s sake! And you
don’t turn that kinda shit down when it’s put right there on a plate for you.
But all that came to an end, briefly, when, in a stupid,
spur-of-the-moment action, I’d married one of those groupies. A beautiful
blonde with incredible tits and a smile that could stop traffic, she’d turned
out to be one huge fucking mistake. And people had told me at the time, man,
they’d never stopped telling me, but I never had been one to take advice from
anybody. That ill-fated and ultimately short-lived marriage had ended after
just seven weeks, when I’d realized I didn’t want to leave my rock star life
behind. Because she had. The second
that ring had gone on her finger she’d wanted me to settle down, give her
babies; move into a condo in Miami and live a quiet family life. Fuck that!
I gave her enough money to set her up for decades, kissed
her goodbye, and went back out on the road. I lived life to those crazy
excesses for a few more years, with back-to-back sold-out tours and albums that
wouldn’t stop selling. I was a freakin’ rock god, an idol. I could command a
stage like nobody else, I loved every second of being out there. Until I hit my
late thirties. And I have no idea why it happened then, but that’s when I’d
started to grow more than a little tired of the constant touring. But no way
was I just disappearing, I went out on a high, with a run of farewell gigs that
had sold out in minutes; record sales that went through the roof. Nobody was
gonna forget Seth Carter in a hurry. Which is why, despite me saying goodbye to
the limelight, I couldn’t leave the industry behind, I loved that world too
much. I’d lived in it for far too long to tear myself away from it forever. I’d
just needed to find a way to stay a part of it, and setting up my own record
label, that seemed the obvious thing to do. The next step.
From that moment on, I’ve made it my mission to discover a
new generation of rock stars that may never find that lucky break they need to
get past all the TV talent show dross that seems to have a stranglehold on the
music industry. I’m a respected record company owner and producer now, but that
ain’t stopped women throwing themselves at me; hasn’t stopped me from taking advantage of that, but
marrying again? Hell, no! I got burned once, why the fuck would I go there
twice? Women still want me – they ain’t making no secret of that. And I still
want them. Man, I’m one damn lucky bastard!
Cal
Clay’s is packed to the rafters, the music’s loud, the beer’s
ice-cold, I’m good. I’m more than good, I’m on a freakin’ high! Life’s one big
party right now, and I’m not wasting a fucking second of that.
Looking around the bar, my eyes lock on those of a pretty
redhead over the other side of the room, and I throw her a smile that lets her
know she can have me, if she wants me. And why wouldn’t she? They all want me. Spending a night with Cal
Connor is like hitting the jackpot, and there’d certainly been some winners
over the last few weeks as this tour wound its way across Canada and North
America before finally landing here in Vegas for four nights of wild excess and
shows that had rocked like no others. That’s what this town does to people. It
gets inside you; makes you crazy. The drugs have nothing to do with it. The
alcohol merely heightens everything. It’s Vegas that does it for me, it’s in my
blood. I was born here, in Primm, to schoolteacher parents; brought up here
before my family moved to Santa Monica just before I started High School. But it’s
never left me, this place. My heart’s here, I’m comfortable here. This place
gets me. And even though my base is L.A. now, Vegas will always be my home.
Little-Miss-Redhead’s still looking my way, and I flash her
another winning grin, she is so fucking mine tonight. This shit comes so easy
when you’re one of the best rock band front men around right now, and I got no
right being anything other than the best, we’re being guided by a bone-fide
rock legend. Seth Carter, he saw what we had to offer, signing us to his record
label after seeing us play just three songs at a gig in a warehouse just off
Hollywood Boulevard. He put Twelve Bore Down where I knew we were always
destined to be – on the road to being as much of a legend as he was. Is. We’re
one of the biggest rock bands in the country right now, thanks to Seth. He’s
shown faith in us, deemed us important enough to manage us himself, and that –
as anyone in the rock world knows – means that Seth Carter thinks we’re going
places. We’re killing it wherever we go, as this latest tour’s proved, man, I’m
still on top of the freakin’ world! Still buzzing! Still on a high after a
crazy final gig and two hours spent in one of Vegas’ most elite private clubs,
where the women show you almost everything but give you fuck all – unless you
put in a specific request, and even then there’s no guarantee. But I don’t ask
for anything, I don’t need to. Whatever I want, it’s given to me, and that
includes women. They don’t need asking twice, just ask Little-Miss-Redhead over
there. So, I’d been more than happy to do nothing but look at the perfect tits
and the rock hard thighs of those women in Isla’s. Happy to watch them gyrate
their red-hot asses just meters away from me, they were there to start the
party. Here’s where it really gets going.
Taking one last swig of beer, I slam the empty bottle down
on the counter, smiling like the cat who’s about to get the cream as
Little-Miss-Redhead saunters over, starting at me with wide eyes and a pout on
her pretty face that’s telling me that mouth’s gonna work its own kind of magic
on me before this night is done. I fucking love my life!
Reckless is available to download HERE.
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