Vanni: A Prequel (Groupie Book 4) (14 page)

At least, the New Vanni can’t, especially after he sees that Bobby has already taken his armful of women to one of the two bedrooms in the suite.

“Let’s go,” I tell my salesgirl.

I haven’t even gotten her name, but she doesn’t seem to care. She drags me by the hand towards the unoccupied room, with Jena trotting happily behind.

I barely get the door shut behind us before the salesgirl rips off her top, revealing her naked torso to me before she practically launches into my arms. I don’t even have enough time to properly inspect her tattoo. Her mouth opens under me for another blazing kiss, as Jena kneels down beside me, unfastening my jeans and peeling them down from my body. My cock is so hard it springs free almost immediately from its restraints. Hands and lips are all over my body, and I’m just drunk enough to mentally float away on that cloud of sensory overload.

Jena makes fast work of my clothing, until I’m standing naked in front of her. She runs her fingers along my shaft. “You’re so big,” she murmurs. It only makes me harder.

“What are you going to do with it?” I ask as I run my hand through her soft, sunny hair.

Without missing a beat she takes me into her mouth. What do you know? She has a tongue stud too. I shudder hard before I reach again for my salesgirl. She rubs her small tits against my chest as she kisses me hard and deep. The sexy songs I’ve been singing blare in my head as fireworks explode in my brain. What a crazy fucking finale to my week. Is this what it means to be a rock star? Whatever I want, whenever I want it? No questions asked?

It’s a whole new world as I disentangle myself from the girls and drag them to the bed. On the nightstand there are condoms and lotions next to a bucket of champagne, ready and waiting for a night of debauchery. We fall together, with them on either side of me. There are lips and hands and naked skin everywhere. As Jena crawls up my body to capture a scorching kiss, my salesgirl goes down on me with experience belied by her young age. My head tilts back as I groan, my fingers tangled in her short hair. Normally I would call her by her name as I urged her on, but we seemed to have skipped over that part. I’m operating by new rules now, rules that give me the right to take both of these women at the same time with no regret or remorse.

My hand disappears between Jena’s legs and she gasps into my mouth as I find that tiny, hard little nub at the center of her pleasure core. She shudders against me as she kisses me harder. My cock jumps in the salesgirl’s mouth, so big it will hardly fit in her throat. She lifts away to work my shaft with her hand. The cold air makes me strain for her even more. I fumble for the nightstand, where I grab the box of condoms. I toss one towards the salesgirl. As I feel the cool sensation of latex slide down around my dick, I position Jena to straddle my face, where I happily dive in to replace my fingers with my tongue.

Likewise, my other sexy playmate straddles my hips. Before I know it, I’m inside my nameless salesgirl. She sinks down on top of me, soft and sure. She’s so tight I can’t believe it. I feel her conform to the curve of my cock as I snake my tongue inside of Jena. We’ve all got a similar rhythm now. My hands are on Jena’s full ass, holding her open as I alternately spear her with my tongue and lick circles around her clit. She’s trembling over me. After working her up all night, I know she’s on the edge.

The salesgirl grinds down on top of me, squeezing me tight inside of her. I disengaged one of my hands from Jena to slide down my body and between the salesgirl and me, to fiddle her clit until she’s exploding around me with a loud scream. After she’s collapsed on top of me, I tap out of our current position.

I want to see what’s going on.

The salesgirl lands on her back, with Jena on all fours in front of her. She dives in between her friend’s legs while I enter her from behind, sinking into her deep and true. I hold her hips as I stare down at the sexy scene in front of me. The salesgirl grabs one of her tits in her hands, squeezing the nipple and crying out from the intense pleasure her friend is giving her, all the while looking me straight in the eye.

It’s more than I can stand. I pummel Jena, who slams back against me with each stroke. Polite romance flies right out the window. This is dirty, raunchy
fucking
. Everything I was on that stage, I am on this bed. There are no complaints, there are no expectations, there’s just the sound of primal animal sex rising in the air. It’s so hot I can barely keep it together long enough to get her off. Jena comes just a hair before I do. I’m breathless as I collapse between them. They curl up on either side, their hands in my long, damp hair as they plant tiny kisses against my sweaty body.

Yeah. This is so much better than delivering the mail.

It’s a fucking fantasy come true, and I didn’t even know it was mine until it happened. Now I want more. I don’t know how long we have that room, but I’m determined to get the most of it. I’m in no hurry to head back to that brownstone in Brooklyn where all my ghosts linger–including the ghost of my cheating ex-girlfriend.

With a growl I pull one of my new lovers up for a punishing kiss. Let Lori fuck the every dick in New York for all I care. There is a line of women to take her place.

And with any luck, I’ll fuck ‘em all before I ever have to see Lori’s hateful, two-timing face ever again.

The hotel room is trashed the next morning, when both Bobby and I emerge from our respective bedrooms. Felix and his buddies are strewn about the sitting room in various cannabis-induced comas. Yael has split, but that’s not surprising considering this isn’t his scene. He’s all about the music, not the fringe benefits.

“I’m so fucking sore, man,” Bobby confides with a happy smile, rearranging himself in his jeans with one hand. “I hope your night went as well as mine did.”

“No complaints,” I say with my own shit-eating smile. It was my first threesome, and I knew it wouldn’t be my last. I still hadn’t gotten the salesgirl’s name, but none of that seemed to matter. As young as she was, she knew the score going in. She got what she wanted every bit as I got what I wanted. It was a tidy little arrangement.

Hell, I’m sorry I didn’t get her phone number so that we could hang out again sometime.

It’s even worth the cost of the VIP after-party, which sucks all my personal profit for the gig
and
taps into my savings. The room itself was hundreds of dollars per night, not to mention all the refreshments and party favors. We also take care of our guests, particularly the female ones. We hire a limo to take them whenever they need to go, to give them the red carpet treatment all the way to the end.

It’s exorbitant, but Bobby insists that we have an image to maintain now. The bigger we make ourselves, the more we will attract to us. “No one knows you’re a star until you show them,” he reasons. “Dress for the job you want, not the job you have.”

Following his logic, I figure no one has to know the truth, that we’re living hand to mouth–or in my case, losing money on my rock-n-roll lifestyle. As long as I look like a star and act like a star, no one is none the wiser.

“All they’ll know is that they got one fantastic night with a star on the rise,” he tells me as we step into the elevator. “They’ll tell all their friends, and the next show will sell even more tickets. All the little girls want what the other girls have.”

I don’t know about all that. I don’t really care. It was a helluva night, with another gig booked for that weekend.

Maybe this time I can convince Tina Nunes to come down for the show. The New Vanni has a few things to show that sexy cougar. After the night I’ve had, I’m more confidence than ever. I’ve never really had any trouble getting a girl into bed eventually, but it was a shot to the old ego that I only needed to snap my fingers and I could have my pick of any number of girls, who would do whatever I wanted just to make me happy.

By the time I get to the brownstone, I don’t feel like the poor street kid from Philly, or the pizza slinger from Cynzia’s. I don’t feel like the loser whose girlfriend was screwing his best friend under his nose. For the first time ever, I feel like
a somebody
.

Bobby is right. It’s time I let the whole world know it.

It is with my newfound confidence that I head to Sedução the very next night. I’m feeling pretty good about myself, I can’t lie. Every time my thoughts return to that sexy threesome the night before, I feel like god. Those girls worshipped me in the best possible way. With every command they were ready to do whatever I wanted to make me happy, any position, any sexual fantasy or kink I may have wanted.

Of course that makes me feel like a king. I am a hot-blooded Italian after all. When I walk through the dark hallway leading me downstairs to Sedução, there’s a strut in my walk. Tina may not have shown up the night before, but I know for a fact that she wants me. If she won’t come to me, I’ll go to her… this once anyway.

I know I have what it takes to keep her coming back for more, no matter how she wants to use me.

I amble to the bar, where I order a beer. While I wait for my order, I glance out over the venue. It’s a large, sprawling joint, the basement of a repurposed industrial warehouse. Everything gleams steely gray, lit with neon blue racing along the top of every wall. The ceiling is mirrored, with various lighting contraptions to keep the room swirling with vibrant color. The black-tiled floor sparkles with shimmering multicolored glitter so it looks like you’re walking on diamonds.

The stage is located in the other end of the room, and it’s larger than anything we’ve played so far. My mouth curves into an absent smile as I imagine what it will be like to perform there. This is a high-end crowd. I should know by how much I had to shell out for a cover.

It is clear that Sedução misses no details. Everything is perfection, right down to the patrons themselves. The women are flawless. The men are wealthy. This is the best of New York. That demands the best in return.

I can’t wait to play here.

“Here’s your beer,” the bartender tells me. I throw a fifty at her, to cover the beer and a very generous tip. Her eyebrow arches as she looks me over.

“Want me to open a tab?” she asks.

I lean closer. I love the way her pupils dilate with interest. This is going to be easier than I thought. “Consider it a bribe.”

Her mouth curves into a smile. “A bribe for what?”

“To get me a little closer to your boss, Tina Nunes,” I admit openly with no shame.

She chuckles. “You’re going to need a little more than that, hot shot,” she tells me as she starts to turn away.

“How much?” I ask, making her turn back. One of the swirling lights overhead glints off my money clip as I withdraw it from my back pocket, making sure she catches a glimpse of the bulge in my pants. A flush immediately creeps into her neck. Two birds, one stone.

I release the bills from the money clip and flash a handful of fifties and hundreds. I withdrew way more than I needed to make this statement, but I figured I’d borrow from Bobby’s playbook and make myself bigger and more appealing to the fancy Sedução crowd.

The bartender leans forward. “What’s your name?”

“Giovanni Carnevale,” I tell her, as if I’m somebody important, as if she should know, as if she should remember.

“And how would Ms. Nunes know you?” she asks.

I give the young bartender my best smirk as I hand her a hundred dollar bill. “We like the same music.”

She takes the bill and folds it, then slides it in her shirt, presumably towards her bra. “Wait here,” she tells me.

She’s only gone for five minutes. When she returns, Tina is nowhere to be found. “She’ll be with you in minute,” she tells me. I glance to her tag. I might as well get her name.

“Thanks, Sasha,” I say as I withdraw another fifty. “I’ll take a shot of your best whiskey while I wait.”

It’s crazy to be throwing around money like I can afford to lose it, but I tell myself I’m dressing for the job I want, not the job I have.

I’m on my second beer and my third shot by the time Tina finally joins me. “Mr. Carnevale,” she says as she extends a graceful hand adorned by expensive, sparkling jewelry.

“Ms. Nunes,” I say as I lift her hand to my lips. “Nice to see you again.”

Her eyebrow arches. “We’ve met?”

My eyes narrow as study her. Is she feigning ignorance or does she really not remember me?

I’m a little offended if the latter is true.

I mention the name of the other venue. “I invited you to catch our show when we played there last night.”

She nods as if she suddenly remembers, and in the same moment remembers exactly why she had forgotten. “I’m sorry. I was busy. I’m still busy, actually. What was it you wanted?”

For a moment I’m flummoxed. “I wanted to speak to you about booking your club.”

She chuckles. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to go through my talent acquisitions director. Call back on Monday.”

She turns to leave but I grab her arm to pull her back. Her dark eyes harden as she glances from my hand and back up to my face, as if I’d just committed a grievous faux pas. “I’m sorry. Maybe I was mistaken. I could have sworn we had a connection when we danced last week.”

“We probably did,” she shrugs. “But that was last week. You should really learn how to take advantage of opportunities that are handed to you, Mr. Carnevale. Some won’t come around a second time.”

I stand facing her in shock. She pulls away from me and starts to walk away, but turns back.

“Oh, and I have to tell you that in order to play Sedução, you need to be a polished professional. Flashing money around here like you know what to do with it, only to waste it on a bartender, is an amateur play.” I get angrier as she talks, but she doesn’t seem to care. “If you want to make it in this business, you need to learn how to take what you want with authority. No apologies.” She looks me up and down and says, “Come back and see me when you’ve gotten some swagger.”

She spins on one of her expensive, crystal-studded high heels and stalks off into the crowd of people who could buy and sell me if they wanted.

I turn back to Sasha, who offers a helpless shrug of her shoulder before she turns back to her other customers at the bar.

What a waste of $500.

I’m in a sour mood as I head back to Brooklyn. I stop in at Fritz’s because I’m not ready to go back to the house alone. The blue-collar crowd is lively as they karaoke their drunken little brains out. Fuck Sedução. These are my people.

Pam isn’t behind the bar, which is unusual. I park myself in front of Cheryl, who has already poured a glass of my usual beer. “Hey, sexy,” she says with that bright, wide smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight. I thought you had a gig.”

“That was yesterday,” I tell her.

She leans on the counter. “So how’d it go?”

“Great,” I tell her. And it was great. I was just in a sour mood because of that elitist bitch, Tina Nunes. “We’ve got at least four more shows booked.”

“See? We told you things were going to start happening for you.”

“Thanks, Cheryl,” I say. “Maybe we should book this place.”

She laughs. “Maybe. You’d have to talk to the boss about it, though.”

“Where is Pam?” I finally ask.

Cheryl is quiet for a moment. Finally she says. “She’s in Vegas.”

My brow furrows. “Vegas? Why?”

Cheryl clears her throat as she leans close. “She’s getting married, Vanni.”

My mouth drops open. “What?”

She nods. “Yeah, she and Doug decided to elope. They left this morning.”

Doug
? What kind of a boring fucking name is
that
? “I don’t understand. I knew she was dating but I had no idea it was this serious.”

She shrugs. “They’ve been friends forever. I know that her father has been on her case about settling down. He wants to retire and he wants to leave the bar to her, but he’s afraid that she’ll wind up alone if she doesn’t marry first. So they’ve spent a lot of time together, especially with the family.”

I’m dumbfounded. “But if she wanted to marry for her family, why would she elope to Vegas?”

“Dunno,” she says as she motions to someone at the other end of the bar. “Took me by surprise too. But the heart wants what the heart wants, I guess.” Her eyes narrow. “Are you okay?”

I nod. I’m fine… except I’m not. I realize I have been harboring the fantasy of making love to Pam as if I could one day make that happen. It wasn’t just flirty, I really wanted to feel her in my arms, to kiss those pouty, sexy lips and sink into her like a dream come true.

Only now I can’t. I would never fuck another man’s wife. I’m not that far gone.

It’s crazy but I wish I could call her, to ask her why, to talk her out of something that just feels so wrong. No doubt someone named Doug is walking her down the aisle to some tacky Elvis impersonator. Did she even have time to get a dress? Or was she in some sweat pants, getting married through a drive-thru?

Vegas? Doug? None of it makes any goddamned sense no matter how many times I run it through my head.

I sit on that stool all the way to closing time, trying to wrap my mind around it. I’ve had quite a few beers and quite a few shots by then. Cheryl wants to call a cab, but I assure her I can walk. “You’re more than welcome to join me, though,” I slur.

“Go on, now,” she says with a wave of her hand. “You know I would rip your shit in half.”

“And I’d die with a smile on my face,” I grin. But she ain’t having it.

“Go home. Get some sleep. You’re going to need all the energy you can get to be a world-famous rock star.”

“All the more reason for you to sleep with me now, so you’ll have a story for all your grandkids.”

She laughs. “I already told you, I don’t date white boys.”

“Fine,” I say as I pull out my money clip. “But you’ll regret it one day.”

Her eyes widen when she sees the stash of cash in my hand. She bends closer with a harsh reprimand. “About as much as you’ll regret waving all that cash around. Are you nuts?”

I shrug. I don’t care. After the day I’ve had, money means nothing to me.

At least I think it means nothing until I realize after about two blocks that I’m being followed by a couple of young, rowdy punks from the bar. I walk a little faster, and they keep a steady pace to catch up to me. Within minutes they’re both on either side, and they crowd me towards a dark alley.

“Give me your money,” one of them says, the minute they have me obscured from the street.

“Fuck you,” I slur. Like I’m going to give my Aunt Susan’s money to a couple of meatheads in wife-beaters and camo pants.

The other guy delivers a punch I’m not expecting, right to my abdomen, till I bend over at the waist. Before I can stand upright, the other guy elbows me on my back, dropping me to the ground. Both of them deliver kick after kick until I’m broken and bleeding and wholly unable to stop them from pulling out the money clip.

I hear them laugh as they take off down the alley. This isn’t the first time I’ve been mugged, but it’s the first time it really hurts, since they’ve taken off with nearly a thousand dollars I can’t afford to lose.

All because I wanted to be a big man for Tina Nunes. I’m such a fucking idiot.

I moan as I roll onto my back and look up at the night sky. I can just picture Aunt Susan looking down on me from heaven, shaking her head in disappointment. “Yeah, I know,” I murmur into the night air, to no one in particular.

Whether I’m Old Vanni or New Vanni, I know I’m a mess. Did I really think I could have any kind of instant success?

I deserve to be in the gutter precisely where I lie.