Nashville SEAL: SEAL Brotherhood: Nashville SEALs (3 page)

He figured half the women he slept with were married, about to be married, or about to be divorced. Those ladies were probably a bit safer for him, to be honest. He’d enjoyed himself and hoped she did too. There wasn’t any expectation of a future meeting, and that worked just fine for him.

Early morning was one of his favorite times of the day. Alone at last, naked and satisfied, resting in the sheets with their lingering combined perfume. Sometimes, he’d stay up and write songs or pick on some chords he was working on. His confidence was fired up. He told himself this was a good thing that he took away as much as he gave in these exciting encounters. There was nothing better than to feel he’d satisfied a woman’s fantasies. Nothing better than to be the
object
of her fantasy, even if it was only for one night. Well, sometimes, two or three. Those were some of his best memories.

He remembered that one particular little lady from North Carolina he used to wonder about. It happened when he first came to Nashville. Clean fresh face, pretty smile. Their lovemaking was slow and arduous, and after all these years, he still remembered how she cried when she came beneath him. He didn’t want them to cry, but her genuine tears made him feel oddly powerful. Making love to her made him feel clean. It was nice when that happened, and it wasn’t always that way with his girls, not that it wasn’t pleasant.

He just never had to go home with some of the girls his friend, Thomas, did. Jameson always attracted the hotties. But Thomas always had a bit of a grey cloud hanging over his head, a little sadness, so his choices were limited. He used to laugh, “Jameson, I’m still going to bed at two with a ten, and waking up at ten with a two.” It made him smile that even Thomas was able to find someone to spend the night with. It was hard being alone, being on stage every night, and then being alone afterward.

Jameson and the little girl from North Carolina had spent a whole week together one time he got booked into one of the gigs in Charlotte—the last time he saw her. She had stayed out of sight in the corner of the front row, didn’t seem to mind when other girls threw themselves at him. He had tried not to search for her in the shadows, wondering if she saw what the other ladies were doing. Embarrassing themselves. If she had objected, she didn’t say anything about it afterward.

She had even introduced him to her parents, whom he had a hard time facing, but she insisted. They had never talked about getting married, just a few lovely days together. He had peered into her father’s eyes and told him, non-verbally, that he wasn’t going to do his daughter any harm. He could tell by the way they shook hands that the man believed him. He preferred to think that he’d sent her halfway to heaven during those days. Her parents’ horse farm had been a wonderful rendezvous for them when they’d gone to Europe that one spring. The fields of flowers, tasty wine, and picnic baskets full of home-baked goodies were just some of the memories he had. He lived the life most men could only dream of. Did she remember him? He wondered.

Of course she did.
They all did. His Facebook page was filled with friend requests, both old friends and friends wanting to be more, and women he’d bedded who were now married or in the process of divorce. He had to be careful accepting some of them. Didn’t want to give them the wrong impression. He had to stop accepting the midnight instant messages, too. They stalked him. There were the occasional husbands who asked him to give their wife a thrill they felt they could no longer give. These were good men who had been injured or lacked confidence or just wanted to do something for their wives because they loved them. Jameson understood this, but never agreed. He just couldn’t knowingly take what wasn’t his to take. And then there was that model from Florida who wanted him to sleep with her fourteen year old daughter.

“I know you’ll be gentle with her. Make her first time memorable.”

There wasn’t any kind of money or favor that could make him do that. It had nothing to do with how sweet the little one was, or how scared, or how he knew he could please her, give her something she’d dream about forever. It had to do with his own honor and integrity.

These requests were becoming more urgent and more frequent. That was the part of the fame that was beginning to take its toll.

He slept in
late; ordering a big breakfast and lots of coffee. He read the paper, listened to a CD a friend had given him, and padded around in the white robe left by the hotel.

He practiced for about an hour, then took a nap, and woke up in the late afternoon, taking his time to prepare for his show. He returned phone calls and checked his email and Facebook accounts. There was a message from Blondie.

Sorry I missed you. I’d like to be part of your plans for this evening if you’re available. No worries, if not. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.

She signed her name,
Karen
.

He was happy she didn’t show her claws, or accuse him of standing her up. It was wise she didn’t mention it and let him know her interest was, if anything, stronger. That was always so attractive in a woman.

The crowd was
even larger this evening. One of his band members had been stopped and tagged with a DUI so a newbie base guitarist was brought in. The kid looked hardly eighteen, but he was obviously a virtuoso. Jameson knew that most of the guys in his group were talented enough to go out on their own some day. But for now, they were the club band, working with artists who didn’t have their own entourage. They were there to make him look good and make the customers stay longer to buy more drinks.

Making hay while I can.

The music business was fluid. Back-up singers and musicians would one day become huge country stars. It was random and rigged. There were lots of things one had to pay attention to, but the break-out was still sheer luck. Lady Luck was usually on Jameson’s side these days, a luscious broad of a gal so generous with her assets and her gifts. So while he was waiting, kneeling at the altar of her fair smile and golden touch, the ride was real fun. Better than he deserved.

He saw Blondie front and center, and when their eyes connected, she made her way back to the bar. Thomas was there on his usual perch. He’d not been Jameson’s warm-up tonight because the club owner was trying to promote a new girl group. Sipping on his third drink, or more, he sidled up to Blondie, and Jameson noticed she gave him the cold shoulder.

At the end of the first set before break, he gave the crowd one of the songs they’d come to hear, his new anthem,

Hope you find what you’re looking for

Maybe this time you won’t come up short…

He studied her swing on the stool, her impossibly long legs and tight blue jeans flaring out at the thighs and hips as she crossed and uncrossed her legs. Her red boots matched her lipstick. She’d gone for a siren look, when he preferred the innocence of the night before better, but it didn’t matter. She was appearing hotter on the stool as he sang, and that was always a good thing. The more heat she radiated back to Jameson, the drunker Thomas acted. His old musician friend was sitting next to someone he’d never have a shot at in a million years. It was just the luck of his hand. When he was young, he didn’t spend his years wisely. Now that he was older, he couldn’t reclaim those days or repurchase his dignity. It was all gone.

Jameson made a mental note to spend some time with his old friend, whose hair was allowed to grow longer and whose eyes were looking wilder.

At the break, Jameson wasn’t surprised when Arlen poked his head in.

“You up for the little fan-girl moment, boss?”

“Red boots?”

“Just like you like ’em. Red boots, blonde hair. Nice chest. The works, I’d say.” Arlen gave him a wink of admiration. “You certainly know how to get ’em. I think she’s the one from last night, but I wasn’t lookin’.”

Jameson tossed back his drink and set his guitar down, but didn’t stand. “Sure you weren’t,” he winked at his former Marine bodyguard. “Send her in.”

She was obviously working hard tonight not to be forgotten. Everything was exaggerated. Her shirt was unbuttoned dangerously deep. Her cheeks blushed bright reddish pink, her lips full and bright red. Even her nail polish was red. She leaned against the dressing room door and looked like the perfect kind of eye candy he needed for the night. He’d be hard again for the entire second set, for the second night in a row.

“Missed you last night, darlin’.” It was the right thing to say.

She examined the toe of her right boot and smiled down upon it. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder. You must have needed your beauty sleep.”

Sleep was the last thing he’d needed. Right now, he needed to be inside her, but he would wait,
needed
to wait,
and loved
the waiting.

“I agree. So you’re Karen?”

“I am.”

He stood, holding out his hand for a proper shake. “I’m Jameson. Glad to know you. Hope to know you better later on,” he said as they shook hands. He leaned into her frame, still leaning against the door, and gave her a long, languid kiss. She wasn’t all over him, which he appreciated. Her lips and tongue and breathing told him what she had in mind, and it was perfect.

“Not gonna let you get me all hot and bothered like last night,” she whispered to his ear, and then kissed him there. “That was not fair. Not fair at all.”

“No, it wasn’t. I’m a wicked man.” He did believe that statement. Standing her up last night just added to the intensity he was feeling now for the encounter they would have tonight.

“I’m counting on it.”

He watched her eyes smile before her lips did. His dick was granite. He widened his stance to give himself room, but she cupped him, giving him a little squeeze.

“You’re still room four-oh-two?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thought maybe I had the wrong room. I’ll be quicker this time.”

A part of him didn’t like that comment. Did she know he’d chosen someone else who’d gotten there first? He didn’t like being that kind of a man. His ego had made him jump for the first person in line. It worked out this time, but a shadow fell over that decision. He was staring into a mirror and asking a tough question.

“You can take all the time you want, sweetheart. Nice to wait for things, sometimes. Last night, I was just tired.” He hated lying. There was shadow number two. What the hell was going on? Bad timing for a sense of conscience.

“Glad you’re rested then, cowboy.”

She threw her arms up over his shoulders, her soft tits pressing against him so tight he could feel her knotted nipples. She allowed him to move her ass into his groin and nibble at her neck. She smelled delicious. Her flawless white skin tasted as if it was dusted in sugar. He wondered if she tasted that good all over and guessed she did.

Back out on
stage, Jameson watched two suited men standing at the back of the crowd. His opening song was the new ballad he’d written recently and hoped to record, and he directed his attention to them as he sang.

Never knew how much you loved me,

Now it’s all gone away…

He threw his heart into the lyrics, with the soft accompaniment of the band behind him. They knew that these were the guys he’d invited to hear him and this was the song he was pitching. Their careful accompaniment didn’t interfere with his timing and, like good dancers on a dance floor, they held back some of their own talent to showcase
his
voice and
his
guitar picking, enhancing it without covering it up. They made him sound smooth and practiced, not like the dull pounding ache he felt in his chest or the thick pulsations in his jeans. He was grateful for the end of the song because he was beginning to feel light-headed.

The crowd erupted into raucous applause, but all Jameson saw was the backs of these two men, as they tipped their hats to Karen and a couple of other little ladies at the back, disappearing into the midnight blue smoky air outside of the club. He knew it wasn’t their style to run up and give him an enthusiastic handshake and tell him how much they enjoyed the song. They might be on their way to go listen to some other up-and-coming country star, after all. If a week went by and they didn’t call, then it wasn’t something they wanted. But his gut told him this one could make his break-out. He just didn’t care that they’d been so casual about it.

Now that the tryout was over, he threw himself into firing up the band and the audience.

Near the end of his last set, a fight broke out. He watched Arlen tossed aside and land on his butt, sliding into a table full of young men wearing baseball caps. Arlen stood up, addressed the asshole who’d shoved him, and was once again sent back to the floor like a rag doll. This time, when his bodyguard attempted to stand, the men in caps held him down and backed out of the fray. Two tall guys turned their caps backward, and stood up to the troublemaker with their chests extended. The guy was hoisted up by his shirt by one of the men; the other had the back of his pants at the beltline, and together they ushered him outside with a slight toss at the end.

A woman was ready to go outside and join him, but one of the tall sandy-haired men grabbed her arm and said something in her ear. The group appeared as one unit, a well-oiled cadre of buddies. Jameson thought his bodyguard had shriveled in size, and he was glancing up on stage to see if his boss had noticed.

And I’m gonna love you until the end of time.

The song ended as he added a riff and a “Love you all. Thanks for coming tonight. Let’s hear it for Jameson’s Band of Brothers. We got Albert Lopez, Little Jimmy here, Virtuoso Kid here who’s new tonight, and Cuz Daniels. Thank you, Halfway to Heaven. Y’all have a great evening!”

He wanted to step off the stage and go see the boys who’d helped him out before they left, but did the right thing and exited stage right, leaving the band to tinker, finding out if they were going to be requested for an encore. He always did. Tonight was no exception.

The clapping and cheering subsided and morphed into cheers and whistles as Jameson returned to the stage. He took a long drink of his rum and coke and began the two swan songs. He was tired. What he really wanted to do was go find out what had happened at the back of the club. And then relax with Karen.