Metal Urge (29 page)

“That’s completely absurd, and you know it. 
You
started this fight over an innocent statement taken out of context. 
You
accused me of carrying out some sort of diabolical plan to win your love even though you know that’s a load of paranoid shit.  What a huge ego you have for such a small, insignificant girl.”

There was a dark, heavy silence chilling the air around Deanna's trembling hand as she held the handset so tightly to her ear it was beginning to ache.

“I'm a musician,” Thom murmured in her burning ear.  “I don't need magic spells or cheap, sleazy tactics to get what I want or what I need.  All I have to do is play my shiny, black V.  D’you get my meaning, darlin’?  You'd be very wise to keep that in mind the next time you want to fuck with me.”

****

Austin, Texas proved to be the biggest musical challenge yet: a city and state where Country music reigned supreme.  Outfitted in ten gallon hats and roughshod boots, ruddy cheeks bulging with chewing tobacco, the local cowboys wanted nothing more than to make mincemeat out of the long-haired sissy boys from Merry Olde England who boldly strolled into a bar near their hotel for a beer.  Mayhem erupted; insults flew, followed by fists, followed by beer-soaked shards of glass, quickly destroying the quaint bar that was so fastidiously decorated in the style of an 1890’s saloon.  Waving a sawed-off shotgun, the bartender roared in anger and frustration as the patrons brawled until every man was lying semi-conscious on the floor or sprawled outside on the old-fashioned wooden sidewalk.

Andy arrived with the local police, managing to smooth talk his ten band members out of jail time, settling for a hefty fine and stern warnings from a heavy-lidded “good old boy” cop named Buddy.  He gallantly offered to pay for damages suffered by the “Boom Town Saloon,” fully intending to take the triple digit loss out of the two band’s profits.  If the bloody wanks weren’t fighting each other, they were taking well aimed swings at the locals; it was a newshound’s wet dream.  No one wanted to destroy metal bands and their music more than the American press.  They despised the English corrupting their innocent youth with melodies that in their narrow little minds were spawned by Satan himself.  He remembered how hard the Yanks tried to ban rock n’ roll music in the fifties, resorting to record burnings and the like.

Herding the bloodied but grinning lads back to his hotel room, he helped them tend to their wounds while issuing dire warnings about what would become of the tour and their record sales in the U.S. if they didn’t get control of themselves.  Acting duly chastised in front of their fretful manager, they laughed hysterically after Andy left for the large club they were appearing at later that evening.  They hadn’t realized how bored and agitated they’d become as their claustrophobic tour buses meandered across the United States.  It felt so good to take their pent-up frustration out on a bunch of macho hicks in silly hats.

To Thom’s dismay, his frustration and anger was still rocketing off the charts.  He hadn’t spoken to Deanna in over a week, their last conversation painful and awkward; the tragic aftermath of their horrible arguments.  Applying a dab of concealer, working it over the large bruise that ran from the edge of his bottom lip to his jaw line, he winced at the pain.  The stinging welt was nothing compared to the agony of Deanna’s cruel accusations and completely unfounded suspicions.  He loved her yet she had managed to twist that beautiful feeling into something sinister and repulsive and all because of David Hadley’s innocent comment.  What
had
he said to David?  Wasn’t it something about a great place to start a new life, or a family, or some other equally innocuous comment?  How could she possibly believe otherwise?  Her outlandish arguments gave him one more reason to think she was seeking grounds to leave him.  If she hadn't been considering it before his thinly veiled threat about being a musician probably had pushed her over the edge.  She deserved to feel a bit threatened---he sure as hell did.  All of this ridiculous mudslinging was exhausting.  The chasm gaping wide and cavernous between them was created by much more than Deanna's out-of-whack hormones: Nigel.  That fucking prick was the root of all of their marital and emotional problems.  Spreading concealer on a cut that grazed his right eyebrow, he grimaced and wondered if they would ever be free of the evil son of a bitch.

****

Security guards led thirteen wide-eyed fans, the lucky winners of backstage passes and a photo opportunity with each of the bands, into a small, cordoned off area near the stage entrance.  Security shielded Beastrage until Andy gave them the go ahead to lead the kids over to where the band members were perched on stools with pens and plastered on smiles.

Metal Urge stood out of sight behind towering speakers watching the exchange between the gushing fans and Beastrage.  Thom noticed a pretty brunette with blonde streaks strategically placed in her thick, shiny mane and smiled.  The girl had on a leather mini skirt which complimented her long, firm, shapely tanned legs.  She sported a pair of racy knee-high black leather platform boots with bright silver studs circling the top and down along the sides of the zipper.  He grinned at the thought that she had probably added those heavy metal touches herself.  A leather jacket over a form fitting crop top displayed her tanned midriff very nicely, drawing his eyes to the taut, healthy skin and sweet little belly button peeking above her low cut waistband.  He felt a pleasant tingle in his groin, teasing him into a dangerous state between lust and desire.  He stepped back so he could no longer see the sexy, little vixen wishing Deanna would dress like that for him sometimes.  She favored the flowing, gauzy bohemian fashions of the sixties and rarely wore the leather biker jacket he bought her.  He thought it was because the summer weather was still too hot until he spied her modeling the jacket in front of a mirror, frowning with displeasure.  He almost laughed at the thought that Deanna would want to dress provocatively or do anything else to please him considering the sorry state of their marriage.  Glancing over at Nigel, he felt his fists ball up so tightly his hands began to ache.  Smashing the bastard’s smug, confident face to raw, bleeding pulp would feel so good...

The security guards rounded up the thirteen anxious fans and ushered out Metal Urge.  Thom perched on an uncomfortable stool and accepted the pen Andy handed him for signing autographs.  He glanced to his left when he felt the heat of the brunette’s stare move over him like a slow caress.  Her face was lovelier than he first realized, but she looked young, probably no more than eighteen or nineteen.  She moved to the front of the queue, no one daring to protest, her piercing gaze never breaking contact with him.  The stirring in his groin was back with a vengeance and had turned rock hard making his breath catch for a moment.

She glided towards him, hips swaying hypnotically until he could almost feel their rhythm against his rigid thighs.  “Hi,” she said, licking her lips.

He imagined the taste of cotton candy, sweet and sticky against his mouth.  He had no idea if he greeted her or when she slipped away from him to get the other band member’s autographs.  He became aware of his surroundings once more as she snuggled against him in a cloud of intoxicating scent, placing her hand on his hip as the photographer snapped the photograph.  When her hand slid down his thigh and dropped away, he pressed his palm against the burning spot her touch had left behind and stared at her.  A security guard started to lead her away, but Thom gave him a look, one which the guard knew well.  He nodded at Thom who visibly relaxed, confident that he would see the tasty lass waiting for him in his dressing room.  Alistair stared at him in astonishment, but he didn‘t give a toss.  His band mate had no idea how gut-wrenchingly lonely and rejected he felt at the moment.  Let him find his own comfort in this strange city so far from home, and bollocks to his judgmental self-righteousness.

A piercing squeal echoed in the dimly lit hotel hallway.  Thom shielded the brunette as he watched Brad and Alistair manhandle a bleached blonde in a tube top against the wall outside of Alistair's room.  Brad pulled her skin-tight shorts down to her ankles and proceeded to drag her bright pink bikini panties down her bronzed thighs with his teeth.  Laughing, Alistair rolled her tube top down, releasing huge, jiggling breasts.  He licked a large berry colored nipple as the girl moaned loudly.  She was pushing Brad's face between her legs when Thom hurriedly unlocked his hotel room door.

“Wow!” the brunette laughed, peering around Thom's back at the sexy spectacle down the hall.

“How old are you darlin’?” Thom asked, quickly ushering the girl into his room.

“Nineteen.”  She answered, her sweet Texas drawl shooting flames of pure lust up his thighs, blazing right into their target at the center of his groin.

He wasted no time getting her back to the hotel while making sure that Nigel was none the wiser.  It wouldn’t do to add fuel to the wanks own relentlessly raging desire to steal Deanna away.  He was quite sure Brad and Alistair hadn't noticed him and his pretty companion either.  Luckily, they’d been preoccupied with the overly endowed blonde.  The girl slipped past him and looked around the room.  Once he shut and locked the door, she walked over to him and looked up at his face with eyes so huge and brown he felt he could easily lose himself in their depths forever.  He ran his fingers through her silken hair and cupped her heart shaped face in his hands, enjoying the feel of her soft skin.  She closed her eyes and tilted her face, full red lips begging to be kissed.  He looked at her sweet face, guilt flailing him with tiny clawed fingers and nipping him with sharp little teeth.  Letting go of her, Thom backed away, wiping his face with trembling hands.

“Is somethin’ wrong?”  She asked, childish concern flickering over her face as she crossed her arms against her bare midriff self-consciously.  Gone was the cocky self-assuredness she had displayed earlier when she felt certain she could seduce the gorgeous blonde guitarist who possessed the most amazing blue eyes she had ever seen.

He looked up slowly, his gaze moving over her body.  Ignoring the guilt still lashing him mercilessly, he pulled her against him and covered her mouth in a kiss so fraught with pent-up emotion it took their breath away.  He was gasping and murmuring his need for her as he peeled off her leather jacket, tossing it to the floor.  She cried out and pulled at his studded leather clothing, moaning and begging him to hurry.  They stumbled to the bed and he pushed her down, running his hands under her skirt, pulling at her panties, desperate to feel the molten heat of desire in her soft, wet flesh.  When she pushed against his groping hands, he pulled back in shock.

What the hell was he doing?

“I’m so sorry!”  He sprang up and tried to button his leather pants, unable to grasp the metal buttons on the first try.

The girl grabbed the bedspread and pulled it over her exposed breasts, tears wavering in her hurt-filled eyes.  “What’d I do wrong?”  Tears of embarrassment began to trickle down her face and she wiped them away with the edge of the bedspread.

“Nothing, love.  You’ve done nothing wrong.  It’s me, I‘m afraid.”  Thom held up his left hand, and she gazed at the glistening wedding band, shaking her head.

“You’re married?”  How could you do that to me?

The scorn in her voice made him feel as though she had slapped him hard across the face.  “I don‘t know.  It was wrong…everything has gone so wrong.”  He paused and looked at her; so lovely even though her cheeks were rosy with shame and tears stained the golden skin of her flawless face.  “I couldn’t seem to stop myself,” he said, desperate to wipe the wounded look off her face.  “Look at you---so incredibly beautiful.”  He spread his hands in a gesture of supplication.  “You’ve no idea how much I want you, but I can't let that happen.”  The pain in her eyes nearly did him in.  “I didn't mean to hurt you,” he stammered.  “I don‘t know what else I can say.”

She kept the bedspread wrapped around her as she gathered her discarded clothing from the floor.  Turning her back to him, she struggled to get dressed.  Keeping a wide berth between them, she grabbed her purse and sprinted to the door, unlocking it.  She looked back at him and frowned.  “You may think I’m just some slutty Texas hick you turned to putty with your pretty compliments and your pretty face, but you‘re wrong.  I don't sleep with married guys---musicians or otherwise.”  Jerking the door open, the girl gave him one last contemptuous look.  “God, you’re such an asshole.”

She was gone before he could respond to her harsh insult.  He picked up the bedspread and threw it across the bed.  Slumping down on the rumpled fabric, he covered his face with his hands.  He had come too close to cheating.  Far too close.  If the dire state of his marriage didn’t improve very soon, he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop himself the next time temptation presented itself in all of its wicked glory.

Chapter 37

A static, metallic voice announced the flights descent into Heathrow Airport, bringing the tiny “fasten seatbelts” and “no smoking” signs dinging to life.  Thom glanced over at Jayson and Penny across the aisle and smiled sadly.  Nestled closely together under a British Airways blanket, Penny’s head rested on Jayson’s shoulder.  Even in sleep it was obvious
they were madly in love with one another.  It would be a troubling, unpleasant homecoming for him and Deanna.  They had spoken briefly on the phone two nights ago, the first time in nearly three weeks.  She insisted on meeting him at the airport but he could tell it was out of obligation---not love.  He wished she would just stay home.