Beats of Life (Perception Book 5) (8 page)

Slater

The instant I walk into the lobby of the hotel I hear the faint giggles of Kylie. I roam my eyes around the large lobby and even with the space my eyes have to cover, it doesn’t take me long to spot her sitting on a barstool in the only bar that is still open at two am in the morning. I consider going over to her, but then I remember what I had said to her earlier. I asked her to let me live my life how I wanted and she can live hers how she pleases. I know she can handle her liquor more than most guys, so I can be assured she won’t get herself in any trouble. I only decide to make my way over to her when she gets up from the barstool and nearly trips over her own feet to place a kiss on Sonny’s cheek.

My jaw ticks in anger and I clench my fists tight as I stomp my way towards them. I told him to stay away from her and now he is sitting with her in the bar of my hotel. Not only is he denying my request, he is also rubbing it right under my fucking nose. My long strides only halt when Kylie commences walking towards the elevators and Sonny stays at the bar, his eyes firmly planted on her backside. She walks straight past me, not even appearing to notice my furious eyes darting between her and Sonny. Once she reaches the elevators, Sonny heads towards the hotel entrance and I head towards Kylie. She completely ignores me when I stand directly behind her as we wait for the elevator to arrive at the lobby. Once we enter, she pushes the button for the tenth floor and moves to the back corner. I push the button for the twenty second floor and move to the opposite side of her. Even in the city, her smell of wildflowers and hay still filters through the air. Although tonight it is complimented by the heavy scent of bourbon.

Kylie remains quiet as the elevator ascends. It is only once it arrives to the eighth floor does she finally turn to face me. Her eyes leisurely roam over my body before she slowly walks towards me. The swing of her hips easily gains the attention of my dick. She stands directly in front of me and due to her tall height and the heel on her boots, her beautiful hazel eyes can stare directly into mine. The soft pants of her breath are felt against my lips, allowing me to smell the intoxicating mix of bourbon and mint. My eyes flick between hers and my cock stiffens to a harden peak, since I can no longer deny my physical attraction to her. She licks her lips and in the corner of my eye I notice that her nipples have become hardened nubs. Her eyes dart down to my lips and she leans in a little closer that her lips are nearly brushing against mine. I close my eyes in preparation for our kiss, eagerly anticipating her sweet taste again. Suddenly, a cool waft of air moves between us. When my eyes pop open, I spot Kylie standing behind the elevator doors that are rapidly closing. My eyebrows pull together tight and I rush towards the doors, attempting to stop them from fully closing.

“Maybe next time?” she says sarcastically, her small voice sounding through the closed doors of the elevator. I push the open door button on the elevator dashboard, but since it has already started its ascend to the twenty second floor it doesn’t open. I curse loudly that it echoes around the large interior of the elevator, while adjusting the crutch of my pants since I am so hard it fucking hurts. Her effect on my body is still as strong as it was two years ago.

It is only later in the bathroom when I spot a smeared red lipstick stain on the collar of my shirt in the vanity mirror do I understand what Kylie’s whole cock tease was about. Kylie was never shy to show her claws when others girls got to close when we were dating. She has a jealous streak a mile long.

I wouldn’t have had the mark there if groupies would remember the rules. You would think since I only have one rule it wouldn’t be that hard to follow. No kissing on the lips, ever! I don’t care if they have naked lips, Mick Jagger lips or lips of an angel, they are not to kiss me on the lips. Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking, I was going to kiss Kylie on the lips, but she is different. For one, she isn’t a groupie, and two, she is the reason that I made the rule.

My first kiss with Kylie was one of the most epic kisses I’ve ever had. It happened the first night we met. I can still recall her exciting squeals when we darted out of the gravel carpark of the bar. For the first few miles she kept her grip tightly wrapped around my waist. Then as the trip continued she started to relax a little more. First she let go with her right hand and raised it into the air. When I got ten miles out of town and turned around to head back to the bar, her other hand finally released its tight grip. She threw both of her arms up in the air and squealed so loud I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my face. I smiled that large I was still eating bugs a week later.

Around two miles before we reached the bar, I felt her body shifting behind me. Suddenly, without warning, she managed to slip under my arm and spun herself around my waist so she was wrapped around the front of my body instead of the back. I instantly slowed down my speed while peering past her excited hazel eyes to ensure I didn’t kill us both. Once my speed hit around twenty miles an hour, her lips landed on mine. Fuck, she tasted so good, her tongue was still laced with her vodka cranberry drink. It killed me not being able to close my eyes to relish in her taste as I needed to keep them on the road. The instant I pulled over, I returned her kiss with just as much passion and from that one kiss we were inseparable every weekend for the next six months. Even when we went white water rafting, skydiving and bungee jumping, the thrill I got from those activities never came close to kissing her for the first time. I was forever ruined by her lips that night and no kiss would ever be able to compete with hers, so I don’t give anyone the opportunity of disappointing me.

****

The next two concerts follow along a similar routine. Kylie still wears skimpy clothes and heavy make-up and my dick still stiffens every time I see her. The only difference between the past two days compared to Friday night is that Kylie hasn’t spoken a word to me. Not one single fucking word. And don’t think I haven’t tried to force her to speak to me. I have used every lame excuse I can find, but she doesn’t take any of the bait I am throwing out. My fishing skills suck in general, that is why I was surprised I managed to catch her the first time. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since she teased me in the elevator, so it is annoying the fuck out of me that she won’t talk to me. I know I was harsh when I told her that I fuck groupies and go to strippers, but I was angry and since she was the main source of my anger I took it out on her.

I’ve got that desperate for her to talk to me that tonight I even purposely ordered a dinner dish that was riddled with nuts. Marcus pissed himself laughing when the dish arrived with every other ingredient removed bar the nuts. It was like a whole range of nuts covered in black bean sauce. Now, I’m not just angry, I’m starving.

When Kylie enters the room to advise Marcus that
he
has ten minutes until
he
is due on stage, I decide to try one last tactic to force her to speak to me.

“Hey Kylie, we are going to a strip club later, do you wanna come?” I question sarcastically, instantly making her freeze halfway out of the door. Marcus picks up one of my drumsticks off the table and throws it at me, narrowly missing my head. Kylie slowly spins around to face me with a small smile on her face, but I can see her anger projected through her narrowed eyes.

“Thanks for the offer,” she replies, her voice sounding extra sugary and sweet with her full country twang being utilised. I smirk at the fact that I’ve finally forced her to talk to me. “But I’m going out with Sonny later, so I’ll have to give it a miss,” she continues, wiping my arrogant smirk right off my face.

She then winks at me seductively before spinning on her heels and making her way out of my dressing room with an extra swing in her hips. Marcus chuckles loudly and when my narrowed and furious eyes turn to face him, he shrugs his shoulders while stating, “Sorry, but you deserved that.”

I’m surprised that I didn’t end up putting my sticks through my drum kit with how hard I hit it while performing tonight. All I could imagine was Kylie’s smile being solely directed at Sonny, her laying in his bed, but the worst image of all was her lips touching his. I pounded the living shit of my drum kit that at the end of our two-hour set I am the most exhausted I’ve ever been. Even the hot brunette groupie that has been eye fucking me for the past thirty minutes during the fan meet and greet isn’t enough to pull me out of my exhaustive slump.

Once I finished signing the last lot of fans photographs, I make my way to the stage to grab my drumsticks I had left behind. The roadies will dismantle my kit tonight in preparation to transport it to San Francisco for our next lot of concerts. I normally take my custom made sticks with me to save them getting lost during transport, but my head was a little clouded after tonight’s performance that I left the box of them sitting behind my kit.

When I gather the sticks and head back to the back entrance of the stadium, I am surprised to hear murmured voices coming through the red velvet curtains on the side of the stage. I have previously used the heavy stage curtains at many arenas as a good hook up point with groupies, and it has my interests peaked wondering who else might use them as a hook up spot. Once I make my way through the thick velvet curtain, I move towards the sound of people talking and laughing. Upon turning the corner, the first person I notice is Kylie. She has a King of Hearts playing card stuck on her forehead. A group of all male roadies are sitting around a table, they also have playing cards stuck to their heads.

Kylie bites down on her bottom lip and her eyes flick up towards the ceiling, like she is trying to read the card on her head, before she cautiously questions, “King of Spades?” The instant the words escape her lips the roadies all shout and cheer loudly. Sonny fills a shot glass full of bourbon and slides it over to Kylie.

“You’ll better not be cheating,” she accuses sarcastically, her country twang highly noticeable. She lifts the shot glass to her lips and downs the entire nip in one hit, her tongue darting into the glass to ensure she hasn’t missed a single drop of alcohol. I can’t help but smile when she doesn’t even seem affected by the burning sensation most girls hate when the liquor slides down their throat. 

I silently watch them from the corner of the room as they go another round. Each member of the roadie crew needed to down a nip since they had guessed wrong and now it is Kylie’s turn again. She taps her index finger on her pouted lips, her face showing her pure concentration before she hesitantly questions, “King of Hearts?”

My jaw ticks in anger and my fists clench tight when all the road crew holler again, like she has guessed wrong. When Sonny slides her another nip of bourbon, I swiftly move towards them. Kylie’s eyes lift to mine the instant I walk into the room. I remove the card from her head and throw it on the table in front of her. Her eyes lower to take in the card before they look at the rest of the guys playing. She smiles and winks cheekily before she lifts the shot glass and swallows the bourbon even more eagerly than she did the first one, triggering the road crew to holler and cheer even louder than before.

My jaw ticks and my nostrils flare as my furious eyes turn to face Kylie.

“I’m living my life,” she says, her voice slurring badly, making me realize she is more drunk than I had first realized. My eyes filter between the guys sitting around the table and other than Mark, most of their eyes aren’t even the slightest bit glossed over.

“You’re done for the night,” I advise Kylie, nodding my head towards the curtains, silently requesting for her to follow me. She crosses her arms across her ample chest and arrogantly shakes her head.

“I’m not requesting, I’m telling you, move your ass now,” I instruct firmly, noticing in the corner of my eye that Sonny stands from his seat. “Sit the fuck down,” I request angrily, pointing to the chair he just stood from. My stern eyes warning him that I will place him in the fucking chair myself if he doesn’t sit down. Once Sonny sits back down, I turn my furious eyes back to Kylie to watch her slowly and seductively lick another card from the deck before she sticks in on her head.

“Why don’t you join us?” she offers, pointing to an empty spot on one of the amps. “I think the next game is strip poker, isn’t it boys?” she questions, her words hardly audible in her drunken state.

A frustrated groan escapes my lips before I scoop down and lift Kylie from the old speaker she is sitting on. Before she has time to protest, I throw her over my shoulder and angrily storm out of the room. Her hair swishes back and forth, matching the rhythm her arms are hitting on my back while I angrily move towards the exit doors of the stadium. I’m just about to exit when it suddenly dawns on me that the paparazzi will capture me carrying her over my shoulder if I turn up to our hotel like this. I’m pretty sure her father wouldn’t appreciate the image of his drunken daughter being plastered all over the morning newspapers.