Pdf Beats Kendall Grey 4z3d1h

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey

Table of Contents Acknowledgments Dedication Chameleons, Panty Pull-Downs, and Twelve-Step Programs Step One: Eye . Make It. Insert, Agitate, Release Step Two: Don Do-It-Yourself Whorewear Step Three: Ignore the Whore Steps Four and Five: Fan the Flames of Jealousy to Make Him Your Bitch, and Turn Inanimate Objects into Sex Toys Step Six: Initiate Operation Blow-Off Step Seven: Talk So Dirty, He Needs a Bath to Answer You Verse One Chorus Intermission Reprise Ultimatums Snake Attack Verse Two Chorus Two Step Eight: Sext Him Hard Step Nine: Let Him Know What He’s Missing When You’re Not Around Step Ten: Tell Him You Love Him with a Song Step Eleven: Grab Him by the Balls and Never Let Him Go Beats Step Twelve: , Spitters Are Quitters About the Author BEATS Hard Rock Harlots Book Two Kendall Grey BEATS Copyright © 2013 by Kendall Grey Published by Howling Mad Press, LLC P.O. Box 660 Bethlehem, GA 30620 www.howlingmadpress.com All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please the Publisher.   Edited by Jennifer Sommersby Young Cover design by Renee Coffey   Page 1

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey ISBN 10: 0-9848878-8-1 ISBN 13: 978-0-9848878-8-0 First E-book Edition: August 2013 This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.   The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction: Misfits, McDonald’s, University of Georgia, Facebook, The Clash, “Should I Stay or Should I Go,” “Mommie Dearest,” Crown Royal Black, The Incredible Hulk, Dickies, Milli Vanilli, “Mary Poppins,” Led Zeppelin, iPod, Pearl Drums, Gatorade, Scholastic Aptitude Test, Tilt-a-Whirl. Acknowledgments Muchas gracias to Jenn Sommersby Young for her kickass editorial advice and friendship (Love you, twinsie!); Renee Coffey for deg Jinx’s awesome BEATS cover (Talent oozes from your pores, my friend); Madeline Sheehan for being my bulletproof armor and drinking buddy at book gs; Melanie Marsh, the best ASST a girl could hope for; Gillian Pemberton and Katie Mac for expert content and highly appreciated redirection in a few places. Heart-thumping love to Kendall’s Street Walkers and the s in various Hard Rock Harlots-related groups (BOOSH!): Angela Lane (Newbie Harlot), Angela Szuter (“I Better Not Be Having a Girl” Harlot), Annie Gabor (Amazing Whale Necklace Giver and Sinnder-Loving Harlot), Debi Krupa (my other ASST and Secret Lesbian Lover Harlot – HA!), Erin Fisher (Sweet As Honey Harlot), Jonathan Lalor (Hot Man Harlot), Juliana Cabrera (Maker of Awesome Promo Pics Harlot), Kelly Rodgers (Beautiful Irish Harlot), Kim Cheeseman (Queen of Sweetness Harlot), LexyPat Storries (Eager Beaver Pimp Harlot), Lynne Curcuru (“Pop-ovah” Harlot), Mari Brown (Get It Done Harlot), Mindy Guerreiros (So Full of Love Harlot), Missy Snyder (Happy Birthday Harlot), Stefanie Pratt (Badass Harlot), and Suzan Rose Elaine (Shy and Sweet Harlot). Hugs and licks to my family and friends who have to deal with me on a daily basis. May Google bless your sweet souls for putting up with my shit.   Dedication BEATS belongs to the Rockers and Harlots group . I never dreamed I’d have this much and love from readers. You guys are the most rabid, insane, funny, sexy, and AWESOME people I’ve ever known. I love every fucking one of you. Long live The Rock. Chameleons, Panty Pull-Downs, and Twelve-Step Programs February 13 – San Antonio, Texas “Describe yourself in one word, Jinx.” My friend and bandmate Letty Dillinger plucks a tortilla chip glopped with beans and cheese from the plate of loaded nachos between us. Good question. I imagine it’s hard for most people to condense their essence—their entire being—into a single term, but in my case, only one word applies. I’m a chameleon. Many things to some people. Nobody to others. “Percussionist.” It’s not a lie, but not a complete truth, either. Letty chews thoughtfully. In addition to being a hardcore drummer, I’m also a caring daughter, a protective sister, a quiet friend, and hopefully, someone’s future lover. Yet none of these roles defines the whole of me. So, like the chameleon, I adjust to fit the situation and morph into whatever my surroundings need me to be. At home in Athens, Georgia, I go by the name Gianna Donato, the second eldest of six half-Italian (my dad’s a transplant from New Jersey)/half-Southern children. I’m a nice Catholic girl. I eat my vegetables, go to confession, and defend my little brother when mean kids pick on him. I get lost in crowds. My voice is soft. My soul is good. Page 2

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey On the road, I’m known as Jinx Hardwick, drummer for the Los Angeles-signed rock quintet Killer Buzz Float. Onstage, I’m a battle-hardened machine of muscle and perfect, unshakeable cadence. I’m the foundation of the band. They rely on me to keep them on course, and I never waver. But how others perceive you isn’t necessarily who you are, is it? Letty chases her chip with the remains of her beer and wipes her mouth with an arm. “You’re supposed to throw out a broad ‘concept’ word. Like ‘artist’ or ‘poet’ or some frou-frou shit.” I shrug. “What word describes you?” “Rebel.” She dusts off her hands and stands. “Be right back.” Letty’s definitely a rebel. Completely comfortable in her own skin and not afraid to tell anyone who doesn’t like it to fuck off. I envy her. Inside my head, I’m not sure who I am. The real me—someone between Jinx and Gianna—does things no one else (except maybe my priest, a couple of ex-boyfriends, and my professional piercer) knows about. We won’t go there. Real Me isn’t nearly as interesting as she sounds. On this particular day, I’m on tour with Killer Buzz Float, so I’m focusing on being Jinx for the moment. And as Jinx, I can’t stop my thoughts from wandering to my current obsession: a stupid guy. The guy Real Me would love to have a simple conversation with. The one I’ve been silently iring for months. Toombs Badcock. The former drummer and new rhythm guitarist for Killer Buzz Float, Toombs is both the bane of my existence and the reason I get out of my bunk every morning. He’s an expert at unhinging me with little more than a glance. When he’s around, I can’t talk. Can’t create. Can’t even think. The words form in my head, but they hit a speed bump on their way to my mouth. I’m an unkempt, discombobulated moron every time I look at him. Toombs is a rainbow of wrong, but the storm that precedes him is so damn right. The bitch of it all? Outside of our professional relationship, I don’t exist to him. I’m pretty sure he’s in love with our lead guitarist, Rax. When you spend months with the same people in a cramped tour bus, you notice things. Sometimes they’re things you wish you could forget. Like a glimpse through the crack in a bunk curtain of Rax’s tattooed hand resting on Toombs’s bare shoulder. And the soft glances volleying between them onstage, or their backs pressed to one another as they play searing duets. And the time I walked in on them masturbating each other on the couches in the front of the bus. It wasn’t the actual jerking off part that got me. I was too blown away by their kiss to really notice what was going on below the belt. They were so tender. So unlike their rough personas onstage or even in real life. The slow, sultry flap of Rax’s lashes when he caught me staring slack-jawed and tongue-tied silently boasted, “This is mine.” I want to rescue Toombs from Rax’s snakelike coils. I want to touch him the way Rax does when no one’s around. I want Toombs all to myself. Toombs used to look at me the way he looks at Rax. That was before we signed our record deal. Before I caught them on the couch. Before I realized I’m totally, completely, madly in love with him. Things change. And here I am. Jinx Hardwick, the Valkyrie drummer with a broken heart. “Wanna whole lotta love,” Letty sings above the din and shakes her ass on her return to our table. She sidesteps a cowboy pushing out his chair in her path and snarls. “Watch it, asshole,” she says and flips him off with her free hand. The other cradles a big, fruity-looking drink. She sets it before me and proudly gestures to it. “For you, my lady.” I wrinkle my nose. I’m not big on alcohol, and the stench pouring off this monstrosity is overwhelming. “What is it?” “Pink Panty Pull-Down.” Letty’s green eyes sparkle as she gazes down my front to the palms smacking out beats in my lap. I still them. “Uh…” “Just drink it. It has cherries in it. Fruit’s good for you. And you need to loosen the fuck up.” I raise the glass and sniff it. Pretty sure I could get a buzz from the Page 3

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey fumes if I hold it here long enough. “I’m loose.” I roll my shoulders to prove it. I’m so not loose. Letty arches her brow. “Drink.” The male of Killer Buzz Float—Rax, Toombs, and Shades—burst through the bar door. They’re a walking wall of black leather and sin. They spot us and head toward the table. Great. I can’t look. I know this drill all too well. Toombs will focus on one of the many steer skulls adorning the wall behind me. Or maybe a cowboy patron’s ten-gallon hat, some ice spilled on the floor beneath a nearby table, a ing waitress—anything to avoid me. Rax will make a suggestive, smart-ass comment about his need to get laid, and Shades will grab Letty’s ass. Or another body part that’s totally inappropriate to grope in public. And as usual, I’ll stare at my twitchy hands, wishing I were behind my kit instead of subjected to the torture of witnessing impending pickups, followed by hours of sitting by myself, waiting for groupies to clear the bus and for the bodily fluids left behind on the couch to dry. Why the hell am I doing this gig again? Oh right. For The Rock. For art. Screw this. I force down half my drink, choke on the bite, and flatten the back of my wrist to my mouth to keep from spewing all over the table. Naturally, Toombs arrives just in time to see me make a complete ass of myself. The scent of his cinnamon gum fills my nose. I lower my head. With a deep breath, I try to shoo away the butterflies fluttering in my stomach, but he’s standing too close. I’ve got a full-on infestation. “Our next stop on the tour got canceled,” Rax says. “Something about a fire at the venue last night. Nobody was hurt, but they had to shut down the place for repairs. Looks like we got ourselves a few days off.” No. No. No. I don’t want time off. Time off means play time for everyone else. I sneak a glance at him to see if he’s joking. Nope. Letty slaps the table. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Rax shrugs, his leather jacket protesting under a drape of tinkling silver chains. My rival is a looker. It’s no wonder he’s never wanting for groupies to bang with his self-professed tag-team buddy Toombs. Long, wavy black hair tied in a partial topknot. Scruffy cheeks. Penetrating blue eyes. Double-pierced bottom lip. Covered in reptile-themed tattoos. Tall, dark, and very handsome. But not for me. Shades leans in behind Rax to snag a loaded chip. Right on schedule, his hand brushes Letty’s boob. Rax cups his crotch. The windup. He elbows Toombs, whom I still haven’t looked at for fear that doing so will result in me spontaneously dying of embarrassment, disappointment, or a toxic combination of the two. “Hey, you wanna grab a couple of bitches tonight?” The pitch. Toombs’s reply is gruff but quiet. “Whatever.” Home run. I sigh. Letty kicks me under the table, and I shoot her a halfhearted scowl. She knows how I feel about Toombs. When we first hit the road, she put herself between us constantly—she’s such a protective mother hen with me—but since our former, all-girl band merged with the guys in Killer Dixon to become Killer Buzz Float, Letty’s loosened up a lot about Toombs. I think she feels sorry for me. I kind of feel sorry for me too. My daily dose of self-doubt tries to talk me into leaving. What the hell am I doing with these people? I don’t fit in here. With nothing to do with my fidgeting hands, I decide it’s time to bail. Need my drumsticks. Need to hit something. I scoot my chair back and stand. “Where are you going?” Letty says. Avoiding Toombs’s gaze, I lie. “Bathroom.” Letty jumps to her feet. “Ooh, I gotta piss too.” She stumbles around the male barricade surrounding us, grabs my arm, and drags me toward the restroom. So much for escape. “This is the perfect opportunity for you to sink your teeth into a slab of Toombs,” she says under her breath. I stop and wriggle free of her grip. Are you high? I want to scream at her. Instead, Page 4

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey I say, “He and Rax have…plans. I’m not getting in the middle of that. I’ll go for a walk or maybe hang out here.” “Another night alone? Come on, Jinx, I know you still have a thing for him. You gotta take the bull by the horns and ride the shit outta him.” She grabs invisible motorcycle handles and grinds her hips into the air. “Where are those womanballs you started to grow when we began this tour? Damn, girl, just a couple months ago, you had him following you around with his tongue halfway down the back of that fucking leopard-print monokini you wore onstage. You could totally hook up with him if you put your mind to it.” I can’t tell her my dreams of having Toombs to myself died when I caught him and Rax enjoying a mutual reach-around. The thirty or so women they’ve co-conquered since we signed our record deal might have had something to do with it too. Not that I’m counting. God, I’m such a pathetic, whiny bitch. I wish I had Letty’s balls, her absolute lack of fear about anything. “That’s okay.” I look away. A hooked finger draws my chin Letty’s way. Sincerity fills her face and her voice. “Toombs likes you. He just doesn’t know it yet.” My shoulders droop as my lungs deflate. Fat chance. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. The way to a guy’s heart is straight through his dick. Once you conquer the cock, his soul is a piece of pecan pie drizzled with cum, begging to be savored.” Her way with words makes me cringe. “I don’t know anything about that.” Letty straightens, eyes wide. “You’re not a,” she leans close and whispers, “virgin—are you?” Like virgin is a dirty word. Maybe to someone as experienced as Letty, it is. I sigh. “No, I’m not a virgin. I just don’t…I’m not as…outgoing as you are.” She guides me to the nearest empty table, and pushes me into a seat. Oh boy. I feel like I’m about to have a sex talk with my Catholic mother. I’m pretty sure steam rises off my cheeks, they’re so hot. Letty rakes her gaze over me as if appraising the value of a horse. Then she gestures to my chest. “You have great tits. A gorgeous face—” I flush some more. “—the cutest, most fuckable ass I’ve ever laid eyes on—” “Letty—” The word doesn’t come out nearly as forcefully as it sounds in my mind. She tips her head to the side, then rests it in her upraised palm. “You got some kind of hideous deformity hiding under those clothes I don’t know about?” I frown. “No.” “Then what’s the problem?” Isn’t that the million-dollar question? Hmm…let’s see. I don’t know how to talk to a guy, let alone screw one the way Toombs probably wants to be screwed. I don’t have a dick. I’m not Rax or a bodacious groupie looking for a fame fuck. And I certainly don’t want to share Toombs with anyone else, least of all Rax. What isn’t the problem? With a shrug, I glance away. Straight into Toombs’s line of sight across the bar. His icy, silver eyes slice right through me. And oh, look. There’s a girl on his lap, pawing at his goatee. I quickly drop my gaze to my lap. I want to die. “I have a plan.” Letty folds her arms and rests them on the table like the Queen of Sheba before her court. For the love of all that’s holy, please, no plans. “Tomorrow you’ll embark on your maiden voyage into Letty Dillinger’s Twelve-Step Program. I’m gonna take you on an educational ride through the zipper and straight to Toombs’s heart in thirty days or less. I personally guarantee results. If you’re not completely satisfied, I’ll offer Shades—or myself, if you prefer—for a night of sex so insane, you won’t even Toombs’s name when you’re done. Deal?” She offers her right hand. “I don’t want to have sex with Shades,” I say softly. “Me then?” She lifts a hopeful brow. I unsuccessfully try to squash the smile that sneaks past my lips. “You’re not my type.” Letty pinches my cheek. “You’re so fuckin’ cute, Jinx. I’ll tell you what I think, Page 5

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey percussionist. You’re happiest when you’re beating on shit. So why don’t you get it over with and beat Toombs’s meat?” “I don’t know the first thing about…beating meat.” Or beating out new rhythms for the album due soon, but I’ll keep that to myself. “Just like beating a drum. Except you get an orgasm out of it.” Letty grins for a long moment before her expression softens. “I just want to see you smile. You don’t do that nearly as much as you did a couple months ago.” I don’t like her scrutiny. It makes me very uncomfortable. Letty continues. “I know how to catch a man. If you can’t nab Toombs’s attention when I’m finished with you, it’s a sure sign he’s gay.” I’m not touching that one with a sterilized ten-foot pole, so I just nod. Letty only hears what she wants to hear anyway. “Here’s a sneak peek into your first lesson: eye . Make it.” She subtly gestures behind me. The guys and their “date” pull up to our table. Shades holds out my Pink Panty Pull-Down. The ice is gone, and it’s room temperature. “Thanks.” I accept the glass and lower my gaze. Eye . Yeah, right. Can’t look at Toombs or the chick giggling between him and Rax, a walking blowup doll made of high-pitched bubbles and silicone. Lucky girl is about to be all over, under, or on top of what could be mine if I had bigger balls. “You guys fuck off for an hour,” Rax says. “We’ve got the bus.” I’ll give them two hours. Just to be sure. “What’d you say your name was?” Rax tweaks the nipple poking proudly through the girl’s low-cut cami. No bra, naturally. Her giggle sounds like a hiccup. “Terri.” Rax slips a sly grin to Toombs, who’s sporting his usual “I’m bored out of my mind” scowl. “You ready to meet the two biggest cocks you’ve ever seen, Terri?” A hysterical flurry of hiccups erupts from Mt. Bimbo. “Yeah!” Hiccup. Hiccup. Hiccup. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. From beside me, a rough, tattooed hand swipes my elbow. All eyes are on the bouncing ball of plastic femininity. Except for Toombs’s. He peers down at me, his normally harsh brow lifted a tad, the frightening gash tattoo adorning his throat somehow softened by the uncharacteristic hint of light fueling his expression. My ticker pounds inside my chest. Airways constrict. Heat floods my face, pulse bangs against my eardrums. Where are my drumsticks? I need my drumsticks…Flustered, I look around me, but of course, they’re not here. The vibrating phone in my butt pocket comes to my rescue. Licking my lips, I snatch it out while my bandmates laugh at some lewd comment Rax makes. My little brother’s sweet face with wild, floppy hair lights up the screen. Shit. I forgot it’s Thursday. “I gotta go.” Avoiding Toombs’s stare, I bound out of my chair and beeline for the door, leaving one set of worries behind at the table in exchange for another. As soon as the humid air hits my lungs, I engineer a happy smile and answer the video chat request. “Hey, Mikey. I’m sorry I didn’t call. I lost track of time.” “Hi, Gianna,” he says in that flat, quiet voice of his. He may be sixteen, but when I look at him, I see the cute, sensitive baby I used to cuddle when no one else could calm him down. Not much has changed. I’m still his lifeboat in a lot of ways. And happy to be so. I run through the usual script, asking questions in the right order. How was school? Who did you hang out with? What did you do when you got home? Always the same questions, always the same monotone answers. Until we get to piano. “What song are you working on?” I say. Here’s where the robot morphs into a heavenly being with a soul, life, and purpose. The transformation gets me every time. “Beethoven’s ‘Pathetique.’ First movement.” His tone remains flat, but his face is animated. I’m not familiar with that piece. I’ll have to look it up. “Will you play it for me?” I already know the answer, but I ask anyway. “No.” “Why not?” Page 6

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “It’s not ready.” “When, then?” “When it’s ready.” Even on the tiny screen, the gleam in his eyes almost blinds me. He always gets excited when we talk about music, but today is different. He’s beaming. This song must be really hard. Mikey doesn’t handle challenge well in social situations, but when it comes to piano, he lives for it. Mikey spent two months on Rachmaninoff’s “Prelude in C Sharp Minor.” During that time, he played nothing else. He’s a very private musician. Doesn’t like for anyone to hear a song until it’s perfect, and it was nearly so the first time he played “Prelude.” When I was living at home, I often listened to him practice behind the closed door. He regularly brought tears to my eyes. It’s shocking how a person can appear so devoid of emotion on the surface and at the same time convey such gut-wrenching beauty through a series of notes hammered out on a primitive instrument. Mikey’s music is pure, concentrated ion. I wish I had half the talent he does. Once he mastered Rachmaninoff, Mikey never touched the song again. He didn’t need to. He’d conquered it. My autistic brother is a social misfit on the outside and a musical prodigy on the inside. Unfortunately, most people see the parts that don’t fit into their cookie-cutter mold of what “normal” should be, and they react accordingly. Some of his schoolmates last year called him a “retard.” I straightened out those little shits in the parking lot after school one day, and as far as I know, they haven’t picked on him since. Nobody calls Mikey names. Especially not that one. I smile. “You gotta wait for me to come home for the Beethoven unveiling. I won’t miss it for the world.” He says nothing. Just stares at me. “I love you, Mikey.” “I love you too, Gianna.” Back to the empty monotone. He does love me. He just has a different way of expressing it. “I’ll talk to you next week. I promise to be on time.” “Bye.” “Bye.” I tap the screen, and my brother’s blank face freezes. Rax, Toombs, and the Flavor of the Night stumble out of the bar and head for the taxi waiting at the curb. None of them notice me. Heart aching, I look down at Mikey’s picture and clench my jaw. I want to go home. Step One: Eye . Make It. I spend the rest of the evening nursing an endless supply of ginger ale until the bar closes at midnight. Letty and Shades are long gone, off to do…whatever it is they do. As customers head for the door, I call for a cab to the tour bus parked on the other side of town. The ride is uneventful. I poke my head inside the bus to listen for grunts, moans, or other declarations of pleasure. Hearing none, I trudge to my bunk trundle. I’m so damn tired. Of everything. Not sure if anyone’s asleep, I tiptoe down the aisle with toothbrush and pajamas in hand. This week is going to suck. With no gig on the horizon for several days, I’ll have to find something to do or somewhere to hide until we hit the road again. Not sure I can handle another— “Jinxie,” shirtless Rax drawls appreciatively. My jaw drops, and I freeze. It takes a full five seconds for me to make sense of the scene unfolding around the couches in back. Rax is pelvic-thrusting into the kneeling blond appendage attached like a vacuum to his crotch. This is a different chick from the one they picked up earlier. He doesn’t even slow his pace as my shocked gaze falls on the BJ in progress. Like he’s proud to show off his mad bedroom skills. And Toombs? Oh God. Toombs rests casually against the leather cushions, stroking his dick through the open zipper of his jeans as he watches Rax courting his new lady friend. My lips make a funny pop when I slam them together. I swallow. “Sorry,” I mumble and hurry toward the toilet. Shit. Wrong direction. Bunk. Bunk, you moron. Page 7

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “Hold up.” Rax grabs the girl by her hair and shoves her off his very big and—oh my God—very tattooed penis. Holy crap. The head of his dick provides the backdrop for the tail end of the snake tattoo that winds all the way up to his neck. Gulp.   I execute an about-face to the window. I don’t even want to think about checking out Toombs’s package. Especially not with this girl around. My cheeks burn. Can you die from embarrassment? I’m about to find out. “Come ’ere, Jinx.” Rax. Judging by the loudness of his voice and the heat scaling my back, he’s right behind me. Trembling, I close my eyes. “I just gotta brush my teeth.” Could I sound more pathetic? Why didn’t I run back to my bunk or out the damn door when I had the chance? Too late now. Cornered. My hands fidget at my sides, tapping out a 6/8 rhythm to keep me from blowing apart. One, two, three…One, two, three…One, two, three… Rax touches my arm. I want to push him off, spin around, and scream in his face, Leave me alone, you asshole. Instead, I shiver. “You’ve been eyeing me and Toombs since you gave us that lap dance on New Year’s Eve,” he whispers over my shoulder. The “lap dance” in question was my awkward attempt at making good on a bet. My shirt was the only thing that came off, and I blamed my sorry dancing on being intoxicated, even though I wasn’t. Long, lame story. Something pokes my butt through the jeans. Three guesses what it is. The heat of Rax’s candy-scented exhale tickles and nauseates me at the same time. My breath races. Steady, Jinx. Steady. “I get it.” Chomping on a piece of bubble gum, he ambles around me. Who chews gum during sex? “You’re shy.” His dick bounces along the denim and points accusingly when he stops before me. His fly is wide open, pants barely hanging on his hips. A clear drop of fluid poises at the tip of his cock, ready to fall. The rest of his shaft glistens, still wet with the groupie’s drying spit. He leans closer and presses that thing into my belly. “Uh…” Not sure whether to be mortified or flattered, I quickly avert my gaze north. His tattooed chest is slim but defined, covered in reptilian scales. Blue eyes are shaded with the same darkness as those of the snakes adorning his skin. Cold. Knowing. Cunning. I’m not the least bit interested. Am I? Another swallow. No. Tiny beads of sweat dot Rax’s handsome face. His long, wavy hair is a little damp. He smells like sex. He palms my hips, and I jump. Grinning, he leans in. “Even shy girls need a good fucking every once in a while. Let me and Toombs break you in. We offer a 100 percent satisfaction guarantee, or your virginity back.” Follow-up laughter. My lip twitches, and the charging adrenaline gets the better of me. I slap his face. Hard. “I’m not a virgin.” Toombs growls behind me—actually growls like a miffed tiger. The leather couch protests as he bounds off it. My building resolve melts at the sound, leaving a puddle in my panties. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.   Rax’s pupils dilate with a quick, angry flare, and he flexes his muscles as if to retaliate. After an intense pause, he shakes his head and works his jaw. “That’s quite an arm you got.” Hell yeah, it is. You don’t spend hours every day with all four limbs in constant motion, beating the crap out of stuff, and walk away with noodle arms. I may be small, but I’m fit. And experienced or not, I won’t take shit off Rax. Toombs, maybe. Rax, no way. Rax glances over my head. Cinnamon blossoms behind me, and I shudder. Toombs’s presence sears my back. Sandwiched between love and hate and their respective erections, I’m no longer in control of my body. My galloping heart shifts into fifth gear and shoots off like a rocket. Page 8

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “Toombs likes a girl with…spunk.” Rax eases against my chest, pushing me into the combination of heaven and hell behind me. “Don’t you, buddy?” “I like a girl with spunk on her face,” Toombs says. He rests his chin on my shoulder. His hand slips around my bare throat. Gentle, but the threat is clear. Full-blown war breaks out inside me. This is the moment I’ve dreamed about for two months. The moment where Toombs touches me. The moment of truth. I still can’t look at him. So much for eye , Letty. Step one of your twelve-step program gets filed under “fail.”   Rax dives into Toombs’s mouth. My lungs give up the ghost, and I quit breathing. I’m frozen between them. Two hard-ons squashing me from either side. Two sets of lips and tongues exchanging spit as if I’m nothing more than a few lousy molecules of air separating them. Two tempting bodies cranking up the heat to boiling on my internal thermostat. Toombs gently cups my aching breasts while he and Rax engage in the most erotic kiss I’ve never been a part of. Metal on flesh. Tender nips. Hard caresses. As the unwitting piece of meat in the middle of this sex-wich, I should protest. I can’t. Real Me is enjoying it way too much. I watch despite the overwhelming guilt. As rigid as their twin erections, I stand motionless while these two men make out beside my head. I’m sick with jealousy and hot with desire. For both of them. No. It’s wrong. I shouldn’t— “Are you gonna finish me or what?” an annoying voice interrupts. The groupie. I’m relieved. And a little devastated. The guys break their lip lock, and I shake loose of the spell they had me under. Rax glides his tongue along Toombs’s lips one last time before moving aside and urging Toombs and me to face her. Flopping against the outsides of my thighs draws my attention down. My hands. They’re shaking so hard, I can’t stop them. “Bend over, bitch,” Rax says. He rolls a condom over the head of his dick and stretches it down to the base. “Let’s give Toombs and Jinx memories to beat off to.” He snakes his fingers through her thick hair, twisting the blond into a makeshift rope. Or maybe a rein. He tightens his grip and shoves her to the couch, knees first, ass in the air. She waggles her bare butt at him. Toombs remains behind me. His shoulder hikes up and down repeatedly as he strokes himself. I’m officially dying. Again, my guilt circuitry fails to engage as it should. I’m not supposed to enjoy this, but I can’t help what I feel. My mouth is dry, but downstairs is a different story. I want Toombs’s skin against mine again. If he has to watch Rax and the girl to get him off, I can live with it. As long as he’s touching me. No luck. Only person Toombs is interested in touching right now is himself. Or maybe Rax. At least it’s not the groupie. Yet. I bite my bottom lip till it hurts, and the pain snaps me out of my reverie. Just the wake-up call I needed. Time to book before shit gets uglier. “I gotta go to bed,” I say softly. Toombs presses his dick against me. “I can arrange that.” Inhibitions jar loose with those words. All I’ve pined for is within my grasp… My ear burns where his breath tickles it. A miniflood surges between my legs. I clench them together. I’m primed for an orgasm, and he’s barely looked at me. My imagination wanders to the many fantasies it’s concocted over the past few months—all of them involving Toombs. I’m a raging river of indecision. The hormonal tide finally chooses a direction, and I’m all in. I want Toombs inside me. I close my eyes and tip my head back. Imagine him filling me, pumping to a lazy, swing rhythm. One…two…One…two…One…two…His lips sealed around a nipple. His tongue flicking it with wet strokes. My hips rock subtly to the beats building in my brain. His big body covering my back, he s in the dance. He blocks out the rest of the world like a Page 9

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey lover-protector. My head spins. I’m drunk with need. Agonizing slowness. Inhale. Exhale. He winds my hand behind me. Peels open my palm and lays the gift of his dick inside it. My muscles hitch as he closes my fingers one by one around the thick flesh. Oh. My. God. I squeeze gently, savoring the unexpected rush. A straight pattern of bumpy lines ripple the top side of him. Pearls? My lids snap open. I look back and suppress a gasp. I’ve seen pictures of guys with genital beading before, but never witnessed it firsthand, let alone touched beads. My thumb brushes the head while the rest of me breaks out in a sweat. A metal stud protrudes from the top and through Toombs’s urethra. Reverse Prince Albert. Sweet Jesus, Mother Mary, and Daddy Joseph. Toombs just took hot to a new level. I want this adorned dick in my mouth, choking me, clogging my airways. I want Toombs and his hard metal hammering me. Imagine the sweet pain of those pearls roughing me to climax… I turn my face into his. My nose grazes his rough cheek. He’s barely smiling. And… Eye .   His metallic gaze lasers open my soul from the inside out. I’m flayed. Exposed. Ruined with a simple look. The bottom drops out, and my panties spring a leak. Caught unawares, my breath snags at the peak of my throat. Toombs sees me. This man I’ve ired in agonizing silence for so long sees me. And I see him too. Up close, in vivid colors. He’s a moving symphony of darkness, wicked temptation, and macabre tattoos. He’s beautiful. I try to smile, but my trembling lips fumble the play. So I damn the consequences to hell and put the hand holding his length to work. I stroke. And squeeze. And drink in the cinnamon of his soft exhalations, the fresh mint on his skin. I surrender to the predator who has me trapped in his sights. Let him take me. Common sense tries to creep into my sex-saturated brain, but I slam the door in its face. I don’t want to think about what I’m doing. Thinking will spoil everything. I just want to feel. Without reason or motivation or guilt. From the couch, hurried grunts and smacks of skin slapping skin punctuate a different rhythm from the one in my ears, but I hardly notice. I turn in Toombs’s personal space—our space—and rest my free hand on his broad shoulder. He’s wearing a black Misfits T-shirt. It’s pulled up a little. The sight of the scarred abs bunched tightly underneath steals my wits. A new imperative fills the churning space in my gut. I want to kiss him. Better yet, I want him to kiss me. I plead through our visual lock, but he doesn’t move. In hopes of making the invitation clearer, I part my lips. He still doesn’t snag the bait. I what Letty said earlier about taking the bull by the horns. She would have no problem tossing Toombs to the floor and jumping his bones— But I’m not her. Indecision pokes holes in my brazenness and crashes my endorphin party. I study the slab of man in my palm. It’s big and rough, decorated with several faded, pale lines. Remains of long-healed injuries? What happened to him? Abuse? Accident? Self-inflicted wounds? Yet another mystery. I wouldn’t mind unraveling him scar by scar. Beat by beat. I stroke him and work my thumb over the top of his shaft just below the head, tracing the raised bumps again. Can’t get enough of those. Dear God, he’s all I’ve dreamed of and then some. Toombs is forbidden fruit. Which makes me want him more. I glance up. He quirks a shadowy half smile. Fueled by the false courage of adrenaline, I lurch for his lips. The smile slides off, and he jerks back. Shit. He’s not interested in kissing. He just wants sex. Well, of course he just wants sex, idiot.   Page 10

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “I’m gonna come,” Rax interrupts. Perfect timing. “Toombs. Now.” The spell is broken. The magic diffused. The opportunity lost. Toombs backs away, taking his dick, its jewelry, and—worst of all—his attention with him. And just like that, I’m invisible once again. A long, gruff groan barrels out of Rax. He pulls out of the groupie, snaps the rubber off, and unloads his cargo all over her red, handprinted ass. Like watching a crash, I can’t look away. Even though I’m guaranteed to see something devastating—perhaps even emotionally scarring—I can’t help it. The car accident becomes a fatality when Toombs s them. Rax shakes loose the last few droplets of cum and takes control of Toombs’s equipment. Oh my God, he’s gonna finish him off… My knees knock as I watch in equal parts horror and fascination. Rax isn’t gentle. He twists and yanks and pulls Toombs by the metal piercing. Slaps and thumps his dick. Squeezes his balls. Hard. My butt cheeks clench on Toombs’s behalf. I now have a pretty good idea of where the scars came from. Toombs’s jaw ripples, and he cuts loose too, adding his white cream to Rax’s puddle at the base of the girl’s spine. Her hips sway left and right. Her hanging breasts bounce with her giggles. She smears a line through the mess with her long, red-lacquered nails, scoops up the combination into the cup of her palm, and makes a show of sucking it off her fingers. I want to be sick. Anger flares in my chest, and a huff sneaks out of my lungs. I need to hit something. My hands swat my thighs. Where are my drumsticks? Damn it. Rax grins at Toombs, slaps the girl’s butt, and then tosses her clothes to her feet. The woman folds herself in two to pick up the bundle of fabric. “That was so hot.” She sidles up between them, and Rax and Toombs make a groupie sandwich similar to the one I was featured in moments ago. I’m done. I’ve seen enough. Shaking all over, I lower my head and rush back to my bunk—toothbrush and pajamas forgotten. I dive into the tiny space and snap the curtain in place. A rush of emotions hits me at once—fury, pain, lust, envy, disappointment. My mind swims. My face burns. Shame fans the flames of guilt in my chest. What the hell was I thinking getting mixed up with them? That’s the problem. I wasn’t thinking. I was too busy feeling. No more of that. Feeling is only allowed onstage, behind a big wall of drums, where I can be free in my cage. I fumble through the sheets until I hit the source of my fix. I close my lids and stroke the smooth, thin wood. Memorize the feel of the grain, the textures of the tiny nicks. Rub the sticks over my rough calluses. Soothing. Comforting. Safe. I shift to my side and cradle the drumsticks between tight fists. I will not cry. Blond giggles and two sets of footsteps stumble down the aisle, past my bunk. I wait for the third set. It doesn’t come. Squeezing the wood tighter, I refuse to open my eyes. Someone is standing next to my bunk. I sense the heart beating on the other side of the drape. Same hurried rhythm as mine. Same adrenaline-fueled rush. Same wild pounding. I feel his uncertainty through subtle vibrations in the air between us. His muted desire. His tentative interest. I picture Toombs coming to my rescue, sweeping open the curtain, dragging me into his arms, and apologizing for subjecting me to the humiliating scene. But my realism circuits put an end to such nonsense, and I swallow hard over the dry, crusty rock lodged in my throat. It’s not Toombs standing less than a foot away with nothing but a flimsy piece of fabric separating us, hand closing in on the curtain. It’s Rax. Insert, Agitate, Release The metal rings sluice across the rod, and the drape flies open. Rax bends to one knee and casually rests an elbow on it. He blows a saucer-sized bubble with his pink gum. It pops, and he sucks the deflated balloon into his mouth. He glances toward the front of the bus where Toombs and the groupie went, and then looks back to me Page 11

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey with a brow lifted. “So what do you say, Jinxie? You wanna party?” Thoroughly uncomfortable with being cornered by Rax the snake, I shove him out of my way and roll out of bed. I’m too small before his six-foot frame and matching ego. I can’t let him perceive me as weak. All my weakness is for Toombs, not him. I poke him hard in the center of his chest. Such a bluffer. “I get the feeling Toombs wouldn’t like that.” Rax smirks and folds his arms over his naked, inked chest. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes on his, but I do. “Toombs doesn’t have to know. We’ll keep it between us.” He grazes my cheek and hooks a finger under my chin. I twist away. “No, thanks.” “Then Toombs and me. I just want a taste of you, Jinx. You’re too fucking pure not to be mauled.” “Right. So you can toss me aside afterward? Not interested.” “I never said anything about that. But yeah, probably.” “You nauseate me.” I clutch my drumsticks tighter. “I get that a lot. So, banging. Yes?” “No.” “Let’s discuss this like the sex-starved, consenting adults we are.” “I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” “Holding you hostage? Now there’s an idea.” My lip curls. Now I’m pissed. I slam a stick between his legs and hold it there. He suppresses a grunt, releasing his breath in a long hiss. “Save the pain for Toombs, sweetheart,” he says. “I’m not the masochistic type.” So, my suspicions about Toombs’s sexual proclivities are confirmed. All the more reason to leave Rax and Toombs alone. Can’t have one without the other, and I’m not into hurting people. Except maybe for Rax, who in this case, totally deserves it. Rax grinds his hips against the wood. “Though, it’s nice to see a little fire out of you. I had you pegged as a prude.” The door opens, and someone hops up the bus steps. “Honey, we’re home,” Letty calls. Thank God. She and Shades stumble down the aisle toward us, laughing and groping each other along the way. I remove the drumstick from Rax’s crotch. Letty’s smile fades. “Everything okay?” I nod. “Just discussing some new beats for a thing we’re planning.” Rax backs up. “We’ll finish this discussion later, Jinxie.” Not if I can help it. Letty’s scowl chases Rax to his bunk and then she returns to me. “Outside.” She tips her head toward the exit. I’m a living, pulsing, raw, exposed nerve. “Letty, I can’t—” “Now.” Her stare means business. If I protest, she’ll make a big deal. That’s how Letty rolls. So I go outside to avoid more of a scene than I’ve already created. It’s dark and humid. Lots of fog. Good for melting into. Letty spins me around and grabs me by the arms. “Did Rax touch you? I swear to fuck, I’ll rip him limb from limb, starting with that big, tattooed cock of his—” She stops. “What do you know about Rax’s…stuff?” I say. I can see her backpedaling before she opens her mouth. “Kate told me.” Letty’s guilty look confirms Rax’s ex, Kate, did no such thing. “You had sex with him?” Oh God, please, please tell me she didn’t do him and Toombs. I don’t give a crap about Rax, but Toombs… She glances to the bus windows behind us and pulls me out of earshot. “Okay, the truth is, Shades and I had a three-way with Rax. But it was only once. And it happened by accident. Toombs doesn’t know. “But that’s not the point. I’m interested in what just went down with Rax. That cunt trumpet was all up in your shit, and you didn’t look happy about it. Talk to me.” I heave a sigh of relief. Well, at least she didn’t do the guy I’m after. I don’t think. “When I got back, Toombs and Rax were…involved with someone. They kinda pulled me into it.” Letty’s eyes widen and sparkle, smiting the shadows. “No, it was nothing like that,” I stammer. “We didn’t…you know…do anything. Well, Page 12

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey not really.” Why am I telling her this? You’re telling her because you need advice, and Letty’s got more experience with men than most men have with being men.   “So, what? You sucked them off? Give me some details. I need to rub one out later, and any mental stimulation you can provide is greatly appreciated.” “No, I didn’t suck anything. I’m not…like that.” “Honey, everyone’s ‘like that.’ They just don’t want to it it.” She has a point. I shake my head. “I might have had an opportunity to get with Toombs, but I blew it by trying to kiss him. Oh, never mind. He doesn’t want me anyway.” It’s a struggle to meet Letty’s eyes. “I don’t want sex. I want something more.” “Anybody can have sex. It’s a primitive bodily function. Hey, cock, meet pussy. Insert, agitate, release. Love is a completely different, much more complicated animal. Love is like music. You have to work at it. Love is ugly and dirty and painful sometimes. But it can also be pretty fucking awesome once you figure out how to play the right notes to the right rhythm. “You gotta decide what you want, sweet cheeks. Can you settle for just sex if it opens the door to bigger possibilities later? How far are you willing to go for a shot at Toombs? “I won’t lie. Nabbing him isn’t gonna be easy. He doesn’t strike me as the lovey type. And from what I understand, he and Rax are inseparable in the bedroom. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible to sway him.” I’m not so sure. The way he dropped me like a lead balloon when I tried to kiss him—God, the image still burns fresh in my mind. I’m nauseated all over again. A cab pulls up near the bus, and our manager Jillian gets out. She swipes at her graying blond bob. Every strand is in place, as always. After paying the driver, she walks over to us, heels tapping hard on the pavement. She regards Letty and me coldly. “Just wrapped up a meeting with Rick Johnson at Megaphonia. He wants the album written, rehearsed, demoed, and ready to record on March 1. He’s setting us up in New Orleans with a hot new producer there.” “You’re shitting me.” Letty grins. “I shit you not.” Jillian whips out a cigarette from a fancy case, lights it, and takes a long drag. Smoke and words blend together. “You haven’t heard the best part. Since you’ll be in the studio for a couple weeks, Megaphonia has rented you a six-bedroom house with a private courtyard in the French Quarter. They wanted to ‘ensure your comfort’ for the length of your stay. You can thank me later with a nice bonus when you hit the top twenty.” Letty and I look at each other. Her face explodes into a mad smile, while mine implodes with fear. I’m not ready for this. Letty lifts her hand for a high five. I hit it weakly. “Fuck yes. New Orleans, here we come.” Letty does a crazy rump-shaking number to whatever silent song plays in her head. I want to throw up. “My only question is, will you be ready?” Jillian targets me with her sniper-scope eyes. More smoke pours from her nostrils. I nod. “Absolutely.” Not. “Good. Glad to hear it.” She surveys us both. Out of the darkness and swirling fog, Toombs walks toward us, and a vehicle I didn’t even notice drives off. Must’ve walked the groupie to her car. What a gentleman. The bile climbs higher up my gullet and waits for something to push its eject button. Pointing her cigarette at us, Jillian says, “Take tomorrow off. Go do something fun.” “Is that an order?” Letty says. “Yes.” She drops her cigarette to the ground and crushes it with her expensive shoe. Toombs moseys right past our conversation. He doesn’t utter a word as he makes his way to the bus. Not even a sideways glance. I disarm the puke grenade with a hard swallow. My throat burns. Jillian follows him up the stairs. Letty makes a blowjob motion behind them and grins at me. “I’ve got the perfect plan for fun. If you’re ready to embark on step two of your journey toward seizing and Page 13

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey squeezing Toombs’s cold, dead heart, I’ll get you fixed up.” “Fixed up?” A new strain of dread sinks into my gut like a virus looking for a host to violate. “Clothing. You want to attract Toombs’s attention, you gotta flash him some skin. Slut it up. Give him a reason to stare at those bodacious knockers.” She tweaks my boob. I don’t like where this is going. I glance at the bus. “Uh…” Letty slings her arm around me. “Tomorrow we’re going shopping.” Oh boy. Step Two: Don Do-It-Yourself Whorewear February 14 – San Antonio, Texas I hate shopping. And shopping with Letty is a million times worse than normal shopping. She’s a stickler for details. After an exhausting trip to the mall in San Antonio, she and I return to the bus with our arms full of bags. Thankfully, the guys are gone. I managed to avoid talking to Rax and Toombs this morning despite Rax’s annoying new penchant for filling up my personal space with his big, stacked body. Since our discussion last night, he seems to have taken an interest in me. Why couldn’t I have fallen for him instead of his best friend? Because that would have been way too easy. I jinx everything. Hence my nickname. Letty’s a ridiculous ball of giggles. She tosses her stash to the couch and tears into my bag. I only bought a few things due to lack of funds, but it’s all for the stage. I’ve been rotating through the same five outfits since we started the tour. I guess it’s time I added a few more options. A justified business expense. “This,” Letty holds up a black pleather corset she found on the bargain rack, “is gonna blow his fucking mind. Take off your shirt and bra, and try it on.” My shoulders involuntarily hunch as I look around the bus. “What, right now?” “Of course, right now.” She grabs my T-shirt hem and tugs it over my head. Long blond strands flutter around me in the wake of the unexpected unveiling. I fold my arms over my breasts. Letty rests her hands on her hips and surveys me. “Let me see those tits.” “I’m not gonna show you my…stuff.” “You gotta get comfortable with your own skin, Jinx. If you can’t show ’em to me, you sure as shit ain’t flashing your bazongas at Toombs.” Her fingers motion upward. “Come on. Lose the bra.” Great. With a huff, I unclasp and toss my bra to the couch next to the explosion of bags. Letty’s eyes pop, and she leans forward. “You…” She tears her gaze away from my chest and looks at me. “You have… piercings.” I sigh. “Jinx, you wild little banana muffin.” Letty cups my breasts, hefts them gently, and ires the barbells through my tight nipples as if she’s meeting Santa Claus for the first time. Could lightning go ahead and strike me now, please? “It’s no big deal.” I back away and hold the pleather before me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she demands. Because it’s none of your business. “Why would I?” “I dunno, I guess I thought I knew everything about you.” I stifle a laugh. Not even remotely. Letty may be my only real friend, but we’re not that close. I liken our relationship to that of an irresponsible kid who took in a stray puppy. She hangs out with me when it’s convenient, and I follow her around because I’m too shy to venture out on my own. For the most part, it’s been casual, but we’ve bonded a lot more in recent months. “It’s not something I ,” I say. “Maybe you should. You’ve got the hottest tits ever, and I’ve seen quite a few in my time. A guy like Toombs probably gets off on piercings.” I have to agree with her on that one. She paws my arms down to get another look. I lower the stupid corset, toss it aside, and poke my chest out. “Happy now?” Letty gropes me again, staring at my nipples as if mesmerized. Or jealous. Or both. For a second, I wonder if she’s going to lick them or something. Wouldn’t surprise Page 14

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey me if she did. The door opens behind us, and the guys mount the steps. “…And then she says, ‘No, put it in the other hole—” Rax hits the aisle, and his jaw drops midsentence. He freezes, causing a rear-end collision with Shades and Toombs behind him. A slow grin eases from his mouth all the way up to his forehead. He, Shades, and Toombs wear identical, amused expressions. Like three curious cats quirking their heads in sync. Shit. I cover myself with my arms two seconds too late and spin around. “Wait, I wasn’t done with those,” Rax says. “Fuck off, twat waffle,” Letty replies. “We’re trying on clothes. Get lost for a few minutes.” “You sure that’s all you were doing? Looked mighty cozy to me,” Shades says, the grin evident in his voice. “I don’t mind giving you chicks an hour or two if you need it. As long as I can watch.” Letty pauses. “Well…maybe…” Heat rushes into my cheeks. I can’t face them. “Can I have my shirt, please?” I say over my shoulder, nearly choking on the words. While Letty, Shades, and Rax negotiate the of my “play date,” Toombs trudges past me down the aisle and flips the tee my way. No warmth. No pause. No eye . I shimmy into it, remove my cell from my pocket, and race down the stairs outside. I run away from the bus and taunts and jokes to a quiet patch of woods nearby. I gotta pull my shit together. When I’m certain no one followed me, I call home. Mom answers the phone with a bright, “Hello?” Loud male voices banter behind hers. My dad and brothers. No one in my house knows how to speak softly. Well, except for Mikey and me. “Hi, Mom.” “Gianna! Where have you been? Mikey was worried about you.” “Yeah, we spoke yesterday. I got caught up in some…stuff. How are you?” A heavy exhale negates her cheerful greeting from a moment ago. “I’m fine. Where are you?” “San Antonio. You don’t sound fine. What’s going on?” “It’s nothing.” I picture Mom waving her hand dismissively as she does when she doesn’t want to make a big deal about big deals. I don’t like the subtle worry in her voice. “Mom. I’m a million miles from home. Don’t make me come back there.” What I wouldn’t give to make good on that threat. She pauses. “You know things have been tight since your dad got laid off.” The bumpy cadence of her voice tells me she’s walking to another room where the guys can’t hear her. “Yeah.” I swallow. “Well, he still hasn’t found a job. We’ve had to…cut out a few ‘luxuries.’ Like Mikey’s piano lessons.” Her voice settles as if she’s happy to have gotten this heavy news off her chest. My heart lurches and crashes into my rib cage at sixty-five miles per hour. Piano is Mikey’s refuge from a stormy world filled with meltdown triggers and avoidance behaviors. “What? Mom, you can’t do that. There must be something else you can trim. Mikey needs those lessons. They’re like therapy for him.” Another sigh. “I know, Gianna. More than anyone. Your father and I didn’t make this decision lightly. But he’ll still get services through his IEP at school and federally funded therapy. “Don’t tell your brothers, but we’re struggling to pay our monthly bills. Our savings is exhausted. We’re down to the bare minimum we can spend on food, and that’s using coupons and scoping out the sales. Honey, my bank teller salary alone won’t a family of eight, even with you, Sam, and George gone. Something has to give, and I can’t sacrifice our basic needs for piano lessons that aren’t one hundred percent necessary.” Shit, I’d send her the money to cover piano tuition if I had it, but I’m barely keeping afloat myself. I swipe my brow. Mikey has to have those lessons. Without them, he’ll retreat into his shell and be content never to leave the house or interact with anyone. That’s not living. That’s existing. I won’t let my brother fall back into that trap. Before he sat on a piano bench for the first time, Mikey was pretty much noncommunicative. Pelted by overstimulation, he shut himself off from the rest of Page 15

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey the world. When he was little, I often found him curled into a ball in the corner of his room, arms over his head, rocking, humming softly to himself. It was his only escape from the chaos and disorder surrounding him. But that changed when a friend of mine came over after school one day and played “Für Elise” on our old, disused piano. Five-year-old Mikey wandered out of his room, sat beside her, and absorbed. Within minutes, he had mastered the song. Music is his source of confidence—his connection to “normal” people. I’ll do whatever it takes to help him maintain that connection. I never want to see that frail ball of human fear resurface again. “I’ll come home,” I say. Screw it. Family is more important than anything—even Killer Buzz Float. “And what would you do here?” Mom doesn’t come out and say it, but her inference is clear. If I leave the band, I won’t have a job at home, either—at least not right away. I’d be another person to feed. I’d just contribute to the problem. “I’ll go work at McDonald’s if I have to. And I can teach Mikey some stuff on the piano. I have some musician friends who might be willing to help him.” “Don’t be silly.” A smile sweetens Mom’s words. “You have a record contract. Pretty soon you’ll be rolling in the dough, and you’ll be sending home million-dollar checks every month.” Mom always tries to blow off serious stuff with jokes, but I’m not laughing. “I can be more useful at home than I am here.” Shit, I shouldn’t have said that. “Why? What’s wrong?” Alarm punctuates her voice. “Nothing.” Hand in my hair, I rub my scalp hard with the heel of my palm. I tap my foot to steady myself with a soothing, familiar beat. “Everything. I just don’t…I’m having a hard time adjusting to life on the road. My bandmates are expecting me to pull through for them in a big way, but the truth is, I can’t create. My well is dried up. The record company wants a new album soon, and I’m gonna blow it for everyone.” I don’t tell her Toombs is the cause of my writer’s block. “You work well under pressure. You’ll find your groove and run with it. I have faith in you.” Leave it to Mom to lay even more of a guilt trip on me. “It’s not just that. I don’t fit in here.” Tears sneak up and launch a surprise attack. I blink them away and look up to the sky. “I want to come home, Mama.” “Oh, honey.” Her voice softens to a soothing coo. “I know it feels like things are bad, but you have Letty. Can’t you talk to her? Or Jillian?” I sniffle and work my arm across the underside of my suddenly snotty nose. “No. They don’t understand. I’m in way over my head. I had no business g that contract in the first place.” “Gianna, listen to me. You are talented and ionate and creative. This is your life’s dream. You can’t give up on it now when you’re so close. Take a couple of days to get your head together before you go off and leave your band high and dry. We’ll make do here. Mikey’s lessons are paid through the end of the month. Maybe we’ll be able to scrounge enough together for one more round. “Tony’s still working at the pizza t. He’s helping where he can. Sam and George both have jobs lined up for the summer when their classes end. Johnny has put in applications all over town, and he had a call for an interview yesterday. Between him and your dad, something will come up. Don’t worry.” Easier said than done. I love my brothers, but they aren’t exactly the most motivated people in the world. Though both Sam and George have scholarships at UGA, so that’s a huge chunk of money my parents don’t have to worry about. “I just feel like I’d be of more use to you if I were home.” “That’s defeat talking. Not my Gianna. Now, pick up your chin, hold your head high, and show your bandmates and the record company what you’re made of.” If I could find my lost spark, that would be easy. At the moment, I’ve got nothing but crickets chirping between my ears. “Okay, Mom. I’ll try.” “You’ll knock ’em dead. I love you, hon. No matter what.” I attempt a smile, but the flowing tears make it hard to fake. “I love you too. I’ll be in touch.” We end the call, and I sit on the ground. I’ve got some pretty heavy thinking to do. If I go home, the band might not be ruined. Maybe Letty or Shades could pick up rhythm guitar, and the other could play bass. Toombs could return to drums. I’m sure he’d rather play drums anyway, so I’d be doing him a favor by leaving. Page 16

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey On the other hand, now that Killer Buzz Float is getting more popular, we’re bringing in more fans to our shows. More fans means more cash. In a few weeks when Killer Buzz Float’s touring bills are settled and paychecks are cut, I might be able to wire Mom and Dad a decent chunk of money. They could use my contribution for bills, and most importantly, Mikey could continue with his lessons, uninterrupted. But staying would mean more emotional torture I don’t need. I’m not sure how many more women I can stomach bouncing through the bus doors with Toombs and Rax. And there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to produce anything when it comes time to record this album. Toombs makes me feel about an inch tall whenever we sit down to work on new music. His intense scrutiny is as harsh as the bang of a judge’s gavel declaring a guilty verdict. It’s like he’s ing judgment on every beat I tap, every rhythm I lay down. I wish I knew how to convince Toombs I’m good enough. But my value to Toombs—and the rest of the band—doesn’t change the fact that Mikey needs those piano lessons like a fish needs water. I hate tough decisions. The sound of approaching footsteps lures my head up. “Jinx.” Damn it. Rax again. Why won’t he leave me alone? I stand. He’s loaded with his trademark smug grin, cocky swagger, and ridiculously hot hair. Gulp.   I try to muster some courage. Being alone with him makes me nervous. “What do you want?” He stops a couple feet away and amps up the condescending smirk with a hundred degrees of sin-infused lust. “You.” Whoa, Nelly. “I’m not on the selling block.” I push past him, but he grabs my wrist. My muscles clench and protest under his grasp. I’d like to believe my scowl is what prompts him to let go, but somehow I doubt it. “How about you listen to my offer before you go running off again? You might change your mind.” My body loosens against my will. I don’t want him. I want Toombs. I huff and look to the cloud above and behind his head. It’s a hell of a lot easier than looking at Rax. “I’ve had my eye on you since you stumbled upon Toombs and me in the middle of that pork pull on the bus a while back. The opportunity never came up to revisit my…desires until last night.” Please, please, please, let’s not go where I think we’re going.   “I know you have a thing for Toombs, but give me a chance. I can prove how much you need me. One taste of my cock on either set of your lips,” his gaze skips down my front and lands right between my legs, “is all it’ll take to make you a Rax convert.” I squeeze my thighs together and twist my torso in hopes of directing his attention anywhere but there. “I told you before, I’m not interested.” Even as I say the words, a tiny bit of my resolve chips away. My libido needs a chastity belt in a bad way. It’s been too long since I’ve had sex, and masturbating on a crowded bus to my perverted fantasies of Toombs only relieves so much tension. “Come on, Jinx. One night with me, and I’ll make your secret fantasy come true.” What is he, a mind reader? Now he has my interest. Damn it. “You don’t know what I want.” “Of course I do. Toombs. Alone. No Rax involved. I can make it happen. Swear on my cock.” He squeezes his package. Bullshit. Rax only cares about Rax. Why would he do me any favors? He wouldn’t. Not unless it suited his needs too. “And what happens when all is said and done? We just get back on the bus and pretend nothing ever happened?” His blue eyes flash under the arch of a brow. “Pretty much. That’s what Letty did. You do know about Letty and me, right?” I hitch my hands to my hips to keep them from smacking my legs. “You mean you, Letty, and Shades?” Page 17

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “Technicality. I’m the one who made her come so hard, she hosed Shades’s arm. Bet I could do the same for you. Or better.” Letty’s a squirter? Man, if that’s not TMI, I don’t know what is. I put a chokehold on the shiver climbing my spine. “Why would you risk telling me stuff you don’t want Toombs to know? You two clearly have a thing.” “Call it a gesture of goodwill.” He doesn’t take my bait, damn it. I was hoping he’d shed a little light on his relationship with Toombs. Tight-lipped jerk. “I’m asking for a simple favor. I trust you won’t tell Toombs anything because you care enough about him—and the band—not to.” The tables are turned. Rax knows me way better than I know him. “Why come after me? You can have any woman you want. You could probably even go back and nab that Lola girl you were so hung up on in Jacksonville if you tried hard enough. I’m a mouse compared to her. There’s nothing special about me.” Sunlight catches his irises just the right way and transforms the plain blue into glittery sapphire. He lunges and fills my personal space with doubt and intrigue and fear. His long, inked fingers stroke my cheek. The same fingers that make twisted, gorgeous music on his guitar and cause groupies to scream loud enough to rattle the bus windows when he twines his coils around them. Rax is a bastard. I want to slap him like I did last night, but I can’t. I’m frozen under his hypnotic, reptilian spell. “There’s a lot that’s special about you.” His minty breath caresses my face, mingles with the sudden breeze lifting my hair and tossing it over my shoulder. Staring into his eyes, I want to hate him. Instead, I hate wanting him. Rax closes the distance between us. His hand slides down the slope of my neck with agonizing slowness and mounts the curve of my breast. Oh God, I never put my bra back on. My nipples harden beneath the fabric and his touch. He roughs the silver barbell through my shirt, and his lips hover over mine. For a second, I picture Toombs in Rax’s stead. A forbidden wave of pleasure rolls through me. An aftershock of guilt follows in its wake. “I view you as a challenge to be conquered. A body to be mastered. A soul to own, if only for a night. I can share you with Toombs if it means I get to taste you alone, in all your glory. Once I’ve feasted, I’ll leave the two of you to your own devices.” He kneads my breast, and I suppress a gasp. Liquid heat floods the already hot spot between my legs. “This is your chance to have Toombs to yourself. You just have to go through me to do it.” Would that be such a bad thing? Shit. Of course, it would. Give myself to Rax for a shot at Toombs? That’s crazy. Wake up, Jinx. Wake up and be strong.   I lick my lips and wriggle out of his proximity. I cross my arms over my chest. “Yeah, but what does Toombs want in this? If he’s not into me, I’m making a pretty big sacrifice for nothing. I’m not looking for a sympathy screw.” Rax’s snake eyes narrow to slits. “That’s the big question, isn’t it? Does Toombs want you? Maybe you should ask him.” “Forget it. I won’t sell my soul to you, Rax.” No matter how I feel about him. “You’re so fucking noble, Jinx. It makes me want to ruin you even more.” He tosses out a dramatic sigh, walks away, then pauses. “The offer stands. Indefinitely. Think about it.” “I don’t need to think about it. The answer is no.” He shrugs and ambles in the direction of the bus. The answer is not no. If the wetness in my underwear is any indication, the answer is definitely maybe. Step Three: Ignore the Whore February 17 – Houston, Texas Taking Letty’s advice for part three of her twelve-step program, “Ignore the Whore,” I avoid my bandmates as much as possible for the next few days while we’re off. Toombs maintains a steady stream of apathy while I’m around (maybe he got wind of Letty’s advice too). Rax lays off the come-ons, but he still has eyes for me—even Page 18

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey more so than before. I catch him staring almost every time I glance his way. As far as I know, neither he nor Toombs has brought any groupies back to the bus since our little chat in the woods. This doesn’t bode well. When Rax was pining for Lola the stripper, he went through a couple of weeks of apparent depression. He didn’t talk to anyone and isolated himself on the bus. No girls, not even much socializing with Toombs. Lots of liquor, though. I’m seeing a similar pattern here. It bugs me. Especially since I keep dreaming about him and Toombs. Doing me. Together. Part of me wishes I could turn off these vivid dreams—or at least edit out Rax from the very erotic, naughty play-by-play—but the sick and twisted part wants to see them come to life. Rax included. What the hell is wrong with me? I have no idea what’s going on in my head, but it’s torture. I can’t stop thinking about Rax’s offer. I wander to the back of the bus where everyone’s sitting around, and I avoid Rax’s gaze. “So, Houston tonight,” Jillian says. “Beaumont tomorrow. Then we hit Louisiana: Lake Charles, Lafayette, Baton Rouge, and we end the tour in New Orleans.” “Yeah, baby.” Letty high-fives Shades. “You gonna be ready to record in a couple weeks?” Jillian pointedly lifts her brow at me. “Hell yes.” Rax downs the remainder of his beer. “Toombs and I have been working on a new riff for ‘Bring It Back.’” “I look forward to hearing it,” Jillian replies. “Jinx, you want me to see if I can get you into tonight’s venue a little early so you can work on some songs?” I swallow and shake my head. I’ve still got nothing. “I’m good.” “You sure? You’ve barely practiced anything new, and what little I’ve heard has been mediocre at best.” All heads shift in unison, and five questioning stares crash-land into me. The impact is painful. Wow, way to call me out in front of everyone, Jillian. “I’ll be ready when we hit New Orleans.” God, I am in so much trouble. Jillian huffs. “Okay.” She doesn’t buy my bullshit for a minute. She stands and pulls out a cigarette from her fancy case. “I’m going for a smoke.” The tension is palpable as Jillian exits the bus. None of them believe in me. I rub my eyes and get to my feet. “Where you going?” Letty asks. “For a walk. Alone.” I grab my sticks on my way out the door and tap out a harsh rhythm on my thighs to keep from exploding. I have no clue what to do. I’ve been racking my brain for days, searching for abandoned beats that want nothing to do with me. Not only do I feel shunned by Toombs, but my own creativity—my spark, my me—has packed up and left for happier trails elsewhere. It’s nothing but tumbleweeds and cactuses in my head. In a word, I’m fucked. If I’m going to bail on these guys, I need to do it soon so they can plan the new album without me. It wouldn’t be fair to drop an “I’m outta here” bomb on Toombs at the last minute. He’s the one who’ll have to replace me if I go. The rest of them will only have minor adjustments to make. Aside from my work-related stress and sexual frustration, Mikey’s been occupying an entire city block of my mind’s real estate. Mom and Dad have always struggled with how to deal with him. If my parents have to nix the piano lessons, he’ll be content to retreat into his own headspace and disappear from reality. I may be the only one who’ll be able to reach him. He and I get each other. Which means I really need to be at home. I don’t have any extra cash to contribute to Mikey’s lessons, but I’m certain I can find a job in Athens. I have a friend who manages a music shop downtown. He can totally get me in there. It won’t pay much, but it’ll be about the same as I’m making on tour when you figure in all the travel expenses. But the thought of leaving Letty and—God forbid, Toombs—makes me choke up. I pause my paces and look down at my hands. Frustration with myself and my situation brings the sticks down hard on my thighs. I beat out an anger-fueled drum rage. “Don’t hurt yourself. You need those legs in good shape for the gig tonight.” A shockwave of tremors terrorizes me. Lifting my head, I stop my violent strokes. I Page 19

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey can’t face Toombs. I’d run away, but it’s not like there’s anywhere I can disappear to. My fingers tighten around the sticks as the throb in my thighs wanes. Slow footsteps behind me suggest he’s coming my way. I can’t imagine he’s interested in a face-to-face any more than I am, tainted by this dark cloud of shame hanging over my head. He stops a few feet away. Frozen for a solid thirty seconds, I wait for him to say something. He doesn’t. His stare bears down on me, those metallic eyes unnerving. A simple glance knocks my defenses out of whack and leaves me a stuttering mess of garbled words. As hot as Rax is, he’s got nothing on Toombs. I want to know Toombs. I want to absorb him. I want to become a part of him. Rax? I’ve come to the sad but honest conclusion that I’m only interested in what he can do for me sexually. Beyond that, I couldn’t care less about him. “Rax wants to fuck you.” My jaw drops, and a whimper darts through the opening. I snap my mouth shut to calm the ensuing trembling. Gaze latched on to Toombs’s rough, tattooed hands at his sides, I mumble, “Yeah.” Because I’m an idiot and can’t think of a single thing to say at the moment. “You’re not interested.” His body hasn’t moved an inch. I shake my head. “No.” Not in him. “Then, you’re not interested in me, either.” I look up and regret it. His quicksilver eyes target mine, pointing, accusing, yet detached like Mikey’s. “We come together. It’s all or nothing with us.” Toombs’s harsh expression softens by a hair. A million questions flood my mind, but I only ask one. My audacity shocks me. “I know what Rax wants. But what does Toombs want?” The moment stretches into an eternity of silence balanced on the seesaw of our precarious stares. “I do what Rax tells me to do.” “Because you can’t think for yourself.” He angles closer. His pupils flare black. “Because I belong to him.” The words knife me to the core. So Toombs is Rax’s slave? “Then you’re right. I’m not interested in you, either.” I turn away. Toombs grabs my arm and spears me with an accusing glare. “You planning to leave the band, Jinx? I noticed you’ve done fuck-all on the drums since we started writing songs. Did a little writer’s block get on you? I’m sure someone on the bus can help you rub that shit out.” Anger courses through my veins and seizes control of my voice. I shove his hand off. “Fuck you, Toombs.” His face splits into an eerie grin. “There’s my girl. There’s the spunk I was looking for.” Malevolent laughter hurts my ears, bruising my ego, fanning the inferno of self-loathing. Once again, I’m small and helpless and brutalized. I despise this fear and self-doubt I’ve dealt with so long. Being the only girl in a large family of loud Italian boys isn’t exactly conducive to getting a lot of attention. The drums have always been the victims of my frustration at not being heard. My release. My escape. My source of accomplishment. Now Toombs is shitting on the one thing I’m good at. Pain sears the outsides of my legs. I glance down. My drumsticks have a mind of their own. I can’t stop them from beating. Tears threaten to push past the barricades of my lids. And then, Toombs’s laughter cuts off, his breath halts abruptly, and his big hands cover mine, stilling them. I search his face for an explanation that doesn’t come. Sudden softness dims the harshness of his expression into something resembling concern. For me? Why does he care? “I said don’t hurt yourself. If you want to hurt someone, hit me.” Why? So you can get off on it? This guy is all kinds of screwed up. I clench my teeth. “I won’t give you the pleasure.” His eyes narrow as he glances at the hard nipples poking through my bra and flimsy T-shirt. “You know, they say sex is good for relieving frustration. I’ll bet a good fucking would inject some fuel into an empty tank of creativity. Should you be in Page 20

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey need of that sort of thing.” The words are full of bravado, but his tone is too gentle to match them. “Yeah? Well, maybe I’ll take Rax up on his offer then. Just him and me.” Toombs’s upper lip twitches as if zapped by an electrical shock. I shouldn’t have said that. I try to cover my gaffe. “It’s not like you’re interested. You just play along with whatever Rax says. You’re nothing but a toy to him.” He works his jaw, and his cheek muscles tighten. Shit. I shouldn’t have said that, either. The truth may have hit a little too close to home. Toombs lifts my hand by the wrist and stares at the drumstick in it. “If you want help, ask for it.” His voice is soft, genuine. He lets go and walks back to the bus. I’m left standing alone, watching after him, wondering what the hell just happened between us. What does he want from me? Was this whole scene supposed to be his way of saying he’s interested? Or not interested? Or…what? One thing is certain. I don’t want Toombs’s help. For anything. Our little tête-à-tête solves my problem. I’m done with Killer Buzz Float. Home is safe. The road is full of potholes. I need to be with people who care about and me. I need to be with Mikey. I take out my phone and open the video chat app. It’s Monday—not my normal day to call—but I need a familiar face. My brother answers. We go through our usual line of questions and answers. School’s fine. No new friends. Still working on the same piece. I start to tell him I’m coming home, but he speaks first. “I’ve been thinking about you, Gianna.” This is new. “Yeah? Thinking how?” “You’re a rock star.” I lower my head and stare at the bus across the street. Toombs climbs aboard. He doesn’t look back. “Yeah, well, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” “I want to be a musician.” “You are a musician, silly.” “Not like you.” “You don’t want to be this kind of musician, Mikey. Trust me.” “I do. I want to perform onstage. In front of crowds. And have fans. And make people happy. You make a lot of people happy. I saw your Facebook page.” My socially challenged brother has spent most of his life avoiding people. To hear these words…from him… My nose tingles with the threat of tears. I have to look away to keep from losing my shit. The emotion overwhelms me. Stabs me through the soul. I had no idea Mikey fully understood what I did, let alone looked up to me for it. “I want to be like you.” Now I do look at him. His face boasts conviction, determination, and bravery I’ve never seen before. He means what he says. Somehow I’ve inspired him to venture out of his comfort zone and do something for himself that involves great risk. By putting himself out there, he could very well be eaten alive. But his resolve is clear. I’m such a fraud. If I cut Killer Buzz Float loose, I’ll be nothing more than a quitter. I might not have much of a shot at success, but I’m guaranteed to lose if I bow out. I want Mikey to be happy. I want him to rise up and embrace all the possibilities waiting for him. He’s so talented. He deserves his moment in the sun way more than I do. “If you want to be like me, keep practicing. Maybe when I get done touring and recording this album, we can see about finding a home for your music.” He stares, blank faced. “Okay.” “Any chance I can hear a snippet of the new Beethoven song?” I know he’ll say no, but I have to ask. “Okay.” What? He’s full of surprises today. I choke a little on my own spit as he walks me down the hall to the tiny piano room. He sets the phone on the music rack above the keys and dives right in as if he’s tackling a ham sandwich rather than playing the most amazing music that’s ever blessed my ears. My heart melts and slides down the inside of my chest straight into the gooey center of my stomach. Mikey’s song is absolutely gripping. It takes hold of my senses and twists, pulls, Page 21

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey transforms my view of what music is. He creates a swell of concentrated emotion, evocative, tear producing. No, make that sob producing. Yep. My shoulders quake, and my gut wrenches. He stops midsong. “You’re crying, Gianna.” His flat expression would come off as cold to anyone who didn’t know him. Sniffling, desperate to regain my lost balance, I rub an arm through the tears, smearing them into my skin. I forge a smile. “It’s because the music is so perfect. Because you’re so perfect.” “It’s not perfect. I missed three notes.” His expression remains as deadpan as ever. A laugh bursts free. “You could’ve fooled me. Sounded like a professional recording from where I’m sitting.” I swipe a finger across his face on the screen. Damn, my brother is amazing. I ache for him—his pain, his distance, his inability to relate to others. But his “disability” is also what makes him more human—more real—than most “normal” people I know. I wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world. “It’s time for dinner,” he says. “Okay. Tell Mom and Dad I miss them. And I miss you too, little brother. Thank you for the song. I’ll never forget it.” “Bye, Gianna.” And the screen freezes. I wipe my eyes, huff a deep inhale, and let it out. My gaze wanders to the building near the bus. A line of excited fans winds around the venue. A van boasting a Houston rock and roll radio station logo pulls up and parks. Cool-looking chick gets out with a microphone and some other equipment. Must be the DJ. My phone vibrates, and I look down. The text from Jillian reads: Time to get dressed. You have an interview in an hour. A Clash song fills my headspace: “Should I Stay or Should I Go.” Question of the year, isn’t it? I had my answer ten minutes ago when Toombs pissed me off. Then Mikey had to go and change my mind for me. Across the parking lot, Letty dances down the steps of the bus, Shades right behind, goosing her butt. They head for the growing crowd of Killer Buzz Float fans. The women squawk and giggle over Shades. The men smile appreciatively at Letty in her short skirt. My bandmates look happy, high-fiving people, posing for pictures, and g autographs. Letty was right. I’m happy too when I’m onstage, living the beats and my dreams. I should stay. For Mikey. For the band. For my parents. And maybe even for me. Steps Four and Five: Fan the Flames of Jealousy to Make Him Your Bitch, and Turn Inanimate Objects into Sex Toys February 19 – Lake Charles, Louisiana After playing sold-out shows in Houston and Beaumont, Texas, we follow Interstate 10 east and cross the state line into Louisiana. Our first stop is Lake Charles. Our driver Freddie halts the bus at an RV park near the civic center where we’ll play tomorrow night. “We’ve got all of today and most of tomorrow free,” Jillian says to the band sprawled around the couches in the front of the bus. “If you’re good little girls and boys and work hard for a couple hours on your new songs, I’ll let you have tonight off. You’ve got ten days before we start recording.” Great. Exactly the reminder I didn’t want to hear. Groans fire off all around. I guess I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to work. Beside me, Letty leans close to my ear. “I’ll help you set up your kit. We can talk.” She shifts her gaze to Toombs as he heads toward the bunks, wearing a more-pissed-off-than-usual grimace. Rax follows him without a word. Of course, he skims me from top to bottom, nice and slow so I can see him. I’m so frustrated by Toombs’s lack of interest, I’m almost ready to say yes to Rax, just to get some relief. I mean, how bad could he be? The guy is smoking hot. If it weren’t for his obnoxious personality, blatant disregard for women, and flippant attitude, I’d be all in. Well, maybe. I glance at Letty. She did Rax. I bet she has some insight. “Okay.” I exit the bus with her on my heels. As soon as we clear the door, she says, “Still nothing happening with Toombs, huh?” Page 22

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey We walk around to the trailer hitched to the bus’s back end. I unlock it. “He’s not interested.” “Time to implement the next stage of attack. You need to make Toombs jealous. Rax is hot for you. I’ve seen the way he ogles your ass and tits. Even Shades made a comment about it. You do Rax, it will totally piss off Toombs, and he’ll have no choice but to make his affection known.” I laugh bitterly as I haul two drum cases out of the trailer. “There is no affection. Did you not hear me? Toombs isn’t interested.” Letty grabs the snare drum. “Well, if you’d look at him every once in a while, you’d notice he isn’t just interested. He’s enamored. He can’t keep his fucking eyes off you.” I snort. “Bull.” She grabs my upper arms. “Truth. I’ve been watching you two. You have this weird avoidance dance going on, and neither of you knows it because you’re both too busy looking away every time the other tries to make eye . It’s fucking comical. You guys are an award-winning movie short in the making.” I don’t believe her. Toombs never looks my way. Well, except to visually deride me when we try to write songs, and I come up empty. Hello, salt. Meet raw, gaping, infected wound. I rub my forehead. “You’ve got him right where you want him. All you gotta do is implement step four: fan the flames of jealousy. Hook up with Rax. That’ll make Toombs your bitch.” “I don’t want to hook up with Rax.” I don’t think. “Then, flirt with him. In front of Toombs. Hard and heavy.” Flirting is slightly more doable. “But how?” Letty snatches a random drumstick from the trailer. “Turn inanimate objects into sex toys to draw his attention to your assets. That’s step number five, by the way.” She points the wood at me, then lazily slides it over her breasts like a bow easing across violin strings. Her nipples hop to attention beneath her shirt. “See? Easy.” She turns up the butt-end of the stick and lowers her lips over it, sucking and swirling her tongue over the grain, leaving behind a sheen of glistening saliva. I lift a brow. Wow. She does that to Shades’s junk? No wonder he hasn’t so much as glanced at a groupie since the two of them got together. That’s some serious talent. Letty removes the wood from her mouth, slides her tongue along its length, and es it to me with a smile. I clear my throat and take the improvised penis by the dry end. “You can do shit like that with almost anything. Food especially. Guys love to see women fuck with food. Just imagine you have a big, hot cock in your hand and go to town. Picture Toombs getting off on it while you stare at Rax. That’ll really rile him up.” “Yeah, but I don’t want Rax to think I’m a tease. It’s not him I want.” “Rax is a tool. Use him. Let him fuck you. What’s the big deal? It’s just sex. That’s damn sure all it is to him. Guys like Rax don’t do commitment. Trust me. I speak from experience. You bang him once, and he’ll be over you before he even busts his nut on your ass. Which reminds me…” She reaches into the butt pocket of her jeans and holds out a handful of square packets. “I saved these for you. Use them. And double up. Ain’t no telling what kind of cooties Rax has.” “I don’t think five condoms are really necessary.” Hell, one may not be necessary. For all my brave thoughts, I’m not even sure I can do casual sex. It’s not that I’m opposed to it, but the only kind I’ve ever had was “relationship” sex. I don’t know if I can shut off the emotional part of my brain while engaging in the physical act. For me, the two have always been intimately connected. Another part of my problem, I guess. “Rax is…prolific. It’s better to be safe than sorry.” Letty closes my fingers around the condoms. Prolific? I’m not even going to ask. Toombs rounds the corner and picks up a couple of the cases we set on the ground. I stuff the packets into my pocket and sneak a peek at him through my hair. I catch him looking as he turns away and heads for the door, carrying my hanging tom-toms. Letty hisses. “See? I told you. Totally checked you out.” I open my mouth to protest, but she’s right. Maybe I should take her advice and play it up with Rax. Flirting doesn’t have to lead to sex. And even if it does, what’s the worst that could happen? I nod. “Okay. I’ll pay more attention to Rax.” Page 23

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “Awesome. I’ll back you up. Now, let’s get cracking on the new music so Mommie Dearest will give us some free time. That’s when you make your move with Rax. When Toombs sees you together, it’ll drive him mad with jealousy. You’ve got this one in the bag, my friend.” Letty slaps my shoulder and grabs a couple of cases. I follow her to the bus, ing Toombs again on his way to pick up the next load. Our eyes meet for a second, and I regret my vow to make him jealous. Buried under his harsh, ashen gaze lies a tiny ember of warmth. I’m not sure if it’s understanding, acceptance, remorse, or just an “I get you,” but it’s clear. And intentional. An asteroid crashes the pit of my stomach and jostles loose an explosion of unfulfilled desires. What I wouldn’t give to spend one day with him, just talking. I want to understand what makes him tick. Why he’s made the choices he has. Not to judgment or drive decisions about where to go—if anywhere—with him, but because I yearn to know him as a person. He means more than a dick that can pleasure me or a guitarist/drummer who helps pay the band’s bills. I’m drawn to his darkness. I think it’s a cover for his light. Maybe he feels as misunderstood as I do. Maybe he’s never had someone care about him. Maybe he needs somebody to tell him he matters. Or maybe I’m humanizing him too much, and he really is the cold, dangerous bastard his persona projects. Either way, I’m willing to step into his shadow and find out. I choose to believe in my ideal of him. There’s much more to Toombs than meets the eye. I know it. I may have to dig through lots of shit to unearth the gentle man entombed beneath the threatening façade, but he’s there. I’m certain. Our song-writing session goes about as well as I predicted. Rax and Toombs produce badass guitar hooks for our latest tune. Letty belts out crazy but catchy lyrics. And Shades does his best to hold the rhythm section together without me. Yep, I’m still stuck. Worse, everyone knows it, and no one wants to it it out loud, least of all me. Jillian observes from her perch on her upper bunk, legs dangling, sizing me up like the hawk she is. She’s gonna make a meal of me as soon as everyone else is gone. The clench of her jaw and the repetitive tapping of an unlit cigarette on her case confirm it. “All right, guys. I think that’s enough,” the Queen Bee says at last. “Go grab yourselves some dinner. Leave the drum kit for tomorrow. We’re done.” I wait for an onition that doesn’t come. I actually give her the opportunity to call me out, but Jillian only jumps down and exits the bus without so much as a glance my way. Great. I must’ve really pissed her off. Rax pauses on his way out. “Hungry?” Toombs stops behind him and looks at me as if waiting for an answer. I startle. “Uh, yeah.” “Come on.” Rax waves me toward the door. Letty grins widely and flashes a thumbs up. Grab his ass, she mouths and gropes the air at waist level while thrusting her hips. I shake my head and smother a smile. She holds up her phone. Text me. Fat chance. I nod and follow Rax and Toombs outside. Rax pulls up on my right and digs in immediately. “Have you thought about our proposition?” “No,” I lie. Toombs settles on my left and looks straight ahead as we walk toward downtown. I feel like a handcuffed prisoner being escorted through the police station. These two probably get off on using cuffs on their women. I shudder. “But let’s talk about it.” Not sure where that bold demand came from—most likely straight from my ass—but there’s nothing like putting it all out there. Rax’s lips curve into a crocodile smile. Toombs shows no sign of emotion. “Over dinner,” Rax says. “And drinks.” Okay, maybe drinks are a good idea. I’ll need to loosen up to get through the next hour alone with them. We walk in silence until we hit the main drag where the restaurants are. We agree on a Mexican place, settle into a booth—Rax beside me and Toombs across from us. Rax orders a pitcher of margaritas and sets his sights on me. “So, when are we gonna fuck, Jinxie?” He nabs a chip, dips it in the salsa bowl, and Page 24

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey crunches down. Toombs backs him up with a smug smile. How I wish I could get him alone, away from Rax for just a few hours. I’ll bet he’s a different person when Rax isn’t around. I reach deep inside myself for strength to face the situation head-on. “I need to know exactly what you have in mind.” “That takes all the fun out of it.” Rax’s hand falls to my thigh and rubs. I bite my lip. Toombs blinks slowly. “Details or no deal.” I say it with much more conviction than I feel. The hand slides upward toward my crotch. I cross my legs and push him away. Rax leans in. “We want one night with you. The only rule is there are no rules. Leave your inhibitions at the door, and let us take care of you.” His exhalation tickles my cheek. His words, backed up by Toombs’s heavy-lidded stare, seduce my resolve and throttle it into submission. “I don’t need taking care of.” But damn, I sure as hell want it. I look at Toombs. “You need it more than anyone,” Rax breathes in my ear. That does it. Panty melter. Dear God, what am I doing? Negotiating a contract for prostitution, that’s what. Staring at Toombs with Rax hanging on my side, I come to with what my heart wants versus what my body craves. I’m done agonizing over this. A switch engages with a tight little click, and the decision is made. God help me. I’m going to have sex with them. Together. Well, maybe. “No strings attached?” I say. Rax makes a scissor cutting motion with his fingers. “When the sun comes up, you’re free. We go our separate ways and never speak of it again.” “When is this going to happen?” I say. Toombs wakes up and straightens, his attention apparently piqued. He didn’t think I’d agree to it. Standing amid a field of delicate eggshells, I smile. About time I had the upper hand with him. “We can start now.” Rax takes my palm and grinds it on his bulge. He’s as hard as a steel blade and probably sharper. My stomach flutters, and now I’m ready to backpedal like crazy. Toombs can clearly see what’s going down on my side of the table. Pulling away, I struggle for purchase on the hill of practicality. “In the middle of a restaurant? I don’t think so. And I’m not into doing it on the bus.” I have my limits. I refuse to degrade myself to the level of Rax’s throwaway trash. I have nothing against groupies, only the way Rax treats them. “Then we’ll get a hotel room.” “You have money for that? Because I don’t.” “Shades’s dad owns a hotel chain,” Toombs says. “Bet there’s an Armstrong Suites in Baton Rouge.” So now Toombs is in? Is he disappointed? Ambivalent? Elated? Does he think I’m a slut? Will he view me as just another lay? It would be really nice to know what he’s thinking right now, and his face isn’t giving up much. We’ll hit Baton Rouge a couple of days from now. That’ll give me plenty of time to change my mind. “Maybe.” “Then it’s settled.” Rax pops another chip in his mouth as if we’ve been discussing the weather rather than organizing a ménage à trois. I look to Toombs for a reaction. I get nothing. “So, that’s it? We just meet up in a hotel room and have sex?” I’m so raw, I can’t halt the accusation on its way out of my mouth. I secretly hoped Toombs would rescue me from Rax’s clutches. He’s sitting in front of me, yet he’s nowhere in sight. “Yep. We fuck. We have a few mind-altering orgasms apiece, then it’s back to business. Will that be a problem for you?” Rax slithers his arm around my shoulders. “Nope,” I lie. “Good. Between now and then, I want you to think about our little play date long and hard. Fantasize about it. Dream about all the shit we’re gonna do to you. Let those fantasies take root and burrow through every thought.” He slides a finger up my forearm, rousing the hairs to attention. “Does it make you wet, knowing you get to share us?” I don’t answer, but yeah, it kinda does. Rax grins. Page 25

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey I search the table for a distraction. Flirt. Letty said to flirt. I stab a straw into my glass, accidentally slinging some tequila on to the table. Staring at Rax and staving off the rampant humiliation, I bring it to my lips and swirl my tongue around the plastic like Letty did to the drumstick. Toombs lifts a brow. Not a “damn-that-was-hot” brow, but an amused, “you’re-a-total-drip” one. The moment is as ruined as I am. Total. Freaking. Loser. I slurp down a sizeable portion of the drink in a desperate hope of disappearing into a ing vortex from another dimension. I wait in vain. The waitress takes our orders. Toombs and Rax talk shop as if I’m not there. Rax wants a new flanger and phase shifter for his guitar. Toombs needs replacement strings. I’m invisible. Food arrives. I barely touch mine. More drinks are poured. Before I know it, my head surfs on a wave of alcohol-induced dizziness. Doesn’t take much to get me drunk in the first place, and chugging three margaritas on a mostly empty stomach does wonders for annihilating unwanted sobriety. Rax gets up to pee. Emboldened by tequila and a need to snag Toombs’s attention, my mouth runs off without permission. “What happened?” Toombs succeeds in totally unnerving me with only a quirk of his head. “What happened to what?” “Us?” I swirl the contents of my glass and down the remainder. “Everything was fine until I caught you and Rax on the bus. Then you shut down and quit talking to me. I did a damn lap dance for you in Miami on New Year’s.” Shut up, Jinx. Shut up while you’re ahead. “Don’t deny you were looking, either. If I’d said the word, you would’ve been totally up in me that night. So what happened?” Toombs shakes his head as if he’s thoroughly disgusted. I lean forward. “Is that it? I make you sick? Why do you want to screw me with Rax? You just doing his bidding like a good submissive boy? Or is it something else?” Please, let it be something else. His jaw ripples. “You don’t have a fucking clue.” “No, I don’t. So why don’t you enlighten me?” I have to keep him talking. “I don’t care if you’re gay—” “I’m not gay.” “Okay, you’re bi. And you’re in love with Rax. I’m not stupid. I just want to know where I stand. If I stand.” His liquid silver eyes harden to sharp gray moonstone. “I’m not at liberty to discuss my situation with Rax. It’s none of your fucking business. Leave it alone.” The slap of his words stings. I nod. “Okay. I’ll just bend over for both of you, let you do what you want, and walk away like Rax said. I got it. Yep.” I scoot out of the booth. “I’ll see you in Baton Rouge. Until then, don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even mention my name.” I beat back the tears with a couple of blinks in quick succession, throw down a twenty on the table, and hightail it toward the door. “Jinx—” Toombs calls behind me, his voice frosty with frustration. I throw a hand up to ward off any further discussion and keep going. Stupid jerk. Step Six: Initiate Operation Blow-Off February 22 – Lafayette, Louisiana Letty’s latest piece of advice is to blow off Toombs, which is a no-brainer after our spat at the Mexican restaurant a few days ago. As hard as it is, I haven’t said three words to him. A few grunts here and there during writing sessions, which still suck thanks to the high intimidation factor. He made it clear he isn’t interested in getting to know me, aside from us matching up naked body parts and rubbing them together for a couple hours straight. I’m doing my best to come to , but pretending apathy and suppressing all this unrequited love hurts. I’m on the verge of backing out of our “arrangement” for Baton Rouge. I’m way too much of a wimp to go through with it. And keeping it casual—at least with Toombs—simply won’t happen when I’m bleeding pints of feelings like an empathic pig in the slaughterhouse. Let Toombs and Rax have each other. And their groupies or whatever. Page 26

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey The bus is a flurry of motion. We arrived in Lafayette this morning, and the band is getting ready to hit the stage in about twenty minutes. Letty flits around, taking pictures of Shades with her phone. He waves her off, urging her to put on her shoes. Jillian’s outside smoking and talking on her cell to someone about the Baton Rouge gig. Rax swaggers down the aisle. He brushes my elbow and whispers, “Tomorrow night” into my hair as he es. Yeah, in your dreams, buddy. I’ll break the news to him after the show. No need to piss him or Toombs off right before we go on. I fumble through my bunk sheets, searching for the drumsticks I thought I left there earlier. “You coming, Jinx?” Letty shoves a foot into her boot and stands. “Yeah. Be there in a minute.” She nods and follows Shades down the steps. I shake out the linens one more time and feel around. Nothing. “Damn it.” I roll open the trundle. Beside the missing sticks I was looking for, a freshly picked yellow wildflower and a note stare up at me. The messy scrawl across the page reads, “Sorry for being a dick.” I whip my gaze right and catch Toombs watching me. He quickly fiddles with something in his own trundle. My pulse takes off at a sprint. “Hurry up, Toombs,” Rax calls from the front as he hops down the stairs. Toombs and I are alone on the bus. We stare at each other for a good fifteen seconds. The sweet scent from the flower rises from the drawer. Why did he leave this for me? Why the note? Why— Heavy leather and clinks of steel toes thunder toward me. Toombs plows into me like a bullet and tangles his arms around my waist, catching some of my hair in his splayed fingers. His lips crash into mine and swindle the oxygen right out of my lungs. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.   Toombs is kissing me. I’m dizzy, drunk from his touch. His lips are softer than I imagined. Gentle. Giving. Tender. And Jesus, up close he smells divine—a combination of the cinnamon gum he chews and the bottle of cheap body wash I’ve sniffed in the shower a dozen times. On him, it’s heaven. The pounding in my ears intensifies, matching the beats pulsing in one of the thick veins in his neck. I can’t see them, but I can feel them. Shit. He’s watching me. I snap my lids shut and hold them down tightly. My body shakes all over, but his wiry arms me with unexpected attentiveness. I was right about him. He’s a good man. His kiss proves it. I knew it. “Yo, Toombs. Let’s book,” Rax hollers from outside and bangs three times on the metal hull. Toombs breaks the kiss. My eyes flutter open, and my jaw quivers without his lips to keep me steady. I’m out of breath. Out of my mind. Out of words. “I’m coming,” he yells back, gaze locked on mine. I’m a hot mess of confusion and elation and shock. A ball of nerves under the influence of a cattle prod. “We’ll talk later.” He fiddles with some strands of hair draped across my sleeve. Fighting with my uncooperative lungs, I nod. When he releases me, I lose track of the rhythm our pulses drummed up together. The disconnect jars me, throws me out of the perfect balance we shared. He dips his head. Heat floods my cheeks as he turns away and leaves me gaping after him. Oh. My. God. Why did he kiss me? He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing to do with my lips back in San Antonio when I walked in on him and Rax with their groupie. What changed? Eager to make sense of this new development, my mind sifts through the facts. Rax was with us the night Toombs jerked away from my lame attempt at a lip lock. Just now Toombs waited for Rax to get off the bus to kiss me. Maybe Toombs didn’t want Rax to see us? Again, why? Page 27

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey Do I dare conclude he likes me and doesn’t want Rax to know? What kind of power does Rax hold over him that Toombs has to hide his affection for someone else? I know the answer. Rax made it clear he wants me for himself—if only for casual sex. He views Toombs as his rival, and as his sub, slave, or whatever he is, Toombs must do whatever Rax tells him. He doesn’t want Rax to know his feelings for me because it’ll put them in direct competition with one another. This fucked-up lust triangle really muddies the already choppy water. But I now have an unexpected ally in Toombs. And a damn good reason to follow through with our “meeting” tomorrow night. But can I give my body to Rax in exchange for a chance at winning Toombs over? I touch my lips and shut my eyes, replaying the kiss in my head. The butterflies in my stomach relaunch, and that out of control, dizzy feeling returns. To taste Toombs on my lips again, hell yes. I’ll give Rax whatever he wants. Anything. I pick up my drumsticks and roll the trundle closed. I march purposefully off the bus to the parking lot where my bandmates wait. Toombs makes brief, silent . The beating butterfly wings pick up their strokes, making my gut tumble and my sex drive roar. “Are we ready to rock?” Jillian tosses her cigarette to the ground and crushes it under the toe of her designer shoe. Mumbles of agreement bandy between us. Yes, I’m ready to rock. I stare at Toombs. I’ll rock him with drumbeats tonight and heartbeats tomorrow. Rax can have our leftovers. I head for the venue and don’t look back. Louisiana will be my bitch. I’m taking no prisoners. Step Seven: Talk So Dirty, He Needs a Bath to Answer You February 23 – Baton Rouge, Louisiana “So, Rax asked Shades to get him a suite for two nights in Baton Rouge.” Letty beams as she peels a banana. “Two nights?” I thought we agreed to one. The bus jostles as we hit a pothole. “Wonder what he’s planning to do with all that…space.” She winks and punches my arm from across the table. “Holy shit, Jinx. You’re gonna do them both, huh? Fuck! You lucky bitch.” I duck my head and shoot a glance to the back of the bus where the guys are working out some guitar riffs. “They’ll hear you.” Letty continues as if I haven’t spoken. “Man, you tore it up on the skins last night. And don’t think I didn’t notice that shit between you and Toombs onstage. I saw you checking each other out. It was fucking hot. The chemistry between you sizzles.” She leans closer. “And tonight, shit is gonna scorch with Rax involved. He’s a cunt bag, but the dude can fuck. I’m just sayin’.” My stomach clenches. “It’s just a…fling. One or two nights at most, then we all go back to the way it was.” “Yeah. Right. Good luck with that. Once you get a taste of Toombs, you won’t be forgettin’ nothin’.” I frown. What does she mean? “No. This is a strictly casual arrangement.” “Uh-huh.” She bites into the banana and tosses her spare one across the table to me. “What are you gonna wear?” Clothing sort of defeats the purpose, doesn’t it? “I hadn’t really thought about it.” “Need some lingerie? I’ve got something slutty you can borrow.” Yellow fruit-mash muffles her words as she talks and chews at the same time. “Ah…That’s okay.” Last thing I want to borrow is Letty’s sex romp attire. I’d just as soon be naked. Hell, any clothes I’m wearing probably won’t last long anyway, right? She swallows and pops her lids wide. “That reminds me. Time for step seven. You gotta talk dirty once you get the dicks in you. Talk so dirty, he needs a bath to answer you. Guys love that shit. You planning to do them both at once or you gonna let ’em take turns?” My jaw drops and creaks on its hinges. Page 28

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “What? You need a fourth?” “No, I don’t need a fourth.” I guess I hadn’t thought any of this through. “I was just going to play it by ear.” “No, no, no. You go in with a plan. And you lay down the ground rules.” “Like…?” “Like condoms. Only hole bodily fluids are allowed is in the mouth.” I wince. “You don’t like to swallow? I guess cum’s an acquired taste. Me? I’d have it for every meal if Shades would cooperate. Oh, and Rax? I’m pretty sure that dude can come at will. Don’t let him hog you. Toombs deserves equal time, if not more.” Boiling blood rushes to my face. Somebody shoot me. Now. What the hell have I gotten myself into? “You can’t catch…diseases from…uh…oral sex?” God, could my Catholic be any more obvious? “You can catch diseases from anything. Before you get busy, you need to ask them both when was the last time they were tested and whether they’re safe. Use condoms for all cooter and ass action. Oral is your call. If you trust them, go for it. If not, cut open a rubber to cover your cooch hole if they wanna go down on you, and make them wear rubbers if you go down on them.” Now I’m getting cold feet again. I’m so freaking out of my league. “If they say they’re clean and you believe them, you’re probably fine to swallow. Don’t let that shit linger in your mouth, though. Stomach acid will kill any bad stuff.” “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea. Rax and Toombs seem pretty…worldly.” “They are.” Letty lays her hand over mine. I turn my palm up to meet hers and squeeze. This is a mistake— “You gotta be firm and ask. Be direct with your questions. And don’t let them pressure you into anything you don’t want to do. “I had Shades book a room for us at the Armstrong Suites too. You need anything at all, you text me. I’ll be there in a flash. Got it?” I nod. “Letty, I’m…scared.” Her eager gaze calms, and she lowers her voice. “You can back out any time.” I face the guys. Toombs looks up from his guitar. His barely there smile melts me. God, I want him so badly. Is he worth the risks? Before, my emotions were the only things on the line. Now my health is too. I’m so naïve. “Whatever you do, own it, chick. Let them know you’re in total control of the situation. If shit goes south, you put an end to it.” I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay.” I can be strong. I can. “Good.” She pats my hand. “Now, about that dirty talk. Let me hear you say ‘cock.’” “I’m not saying that.” I cover my mouth. Thinking a word like that is one thing. Saying it is embarrassing. Letty stands and pulls up one leg like a flamingo. “Cock-a-doodle-doo!” Her gritty voice totally misses the effect she must’ve been going for. She flaps her arms and struts around the front of the bus. Her neck gets going, and she pecks at the air like a chicken. “Cock-a-doodle-doo! COCK! COCK!” Giggles spill out of me. The guys stop the song they’re working on and look our way. Shades grins, shakes his head, and returns to his bass. Rax and Toombs lift their brows in sync. “What the fuck are you looking at? Get back to writing, you cocks.” Letty extends her middle finger and waves it at them. “Your woman is a fucking lunatic,” Rax says to Shades, who just nods. He’s got that right. I doubt we’d have Letty any other way. After a few more struts and cawed curses, she settles down and tumbles into her seat, laughing, her face a little flushed. “See? Cock. It’s good for the soul. Now, tell ’em how you want to be fucked, and you’re golden.” The bus rolls to a stop. “Welcome to Baton Rouge,” Freddie says as he shuts down the engine. Letty picks up the banana from the table, peels it halfway, and shoves it into my open palm. “Show Toombs what you’re gonna do to his cock in a few hours.” Five hundred pounds of man head our way up the aisle, two thirds of which could be mine tonight. I can either embrace it and do my damnedest to enjoy it, or I can do what’s safe and familiar and back out. Page 29

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey My stomach executes a triple backflip when Toombs’s silvery gaze intersects with mine. I lift the banana to my lips and push the tip into my mouth, savoring the tropical flavor with a swish of tongue. Time grinds to a rusty creep as an appreciative smile dawns across his face. He makes a show of leaning close and inhaling as he es me. God. Rax brings up the rear and stops before me once Shades and Toombs are off the bus. “When you’re done with that, I’ve got something else you can suck on, Jinxie.” I punch him with a lopsided grin, slide the banana gently into his mouth, and bring his hand up to hold it in place. I wish I had a clever comeback like Letty surely would, but I don’t. So I give him my back and skip down the steps, shaking in my boots the entire way. When we hit the stage in Baton Rouge, I’m high on courage and the promise of hot, frightening things to come later in the evening. I spoke to Rax and Toombs over dinner about their use of protection, and both assured me they were safe, aside from occasional oral with select people, including each other. Gulp. Both get tested every few months, and neither has ever had a sexual health issue. I have no reason not to believe them, but I’m not sure how I feel about them blowing each other. However, I can’t change their pasts any more than I can change my own. So, I swallow the bitterness in the spirit of new beginnings. Plus, Toombs kissed me yesterday when Rax wasn’t looking. That’s gotta mean something. I smile as I settle on my throne, surrounded by the comforts of metal rims, silver lugs, and simulated skin. My left foot chomps down a couple of times on the hi-hat. I adjust its height more out of habit than correction. Shrieks from fans slice through the darkness. I test the placement of my bass drum with two quick pumps of the right foot. More howls follow. The stage lights come up and shine on Letty, setting her red hair ablaze. The crowd busts wide open, screaming, cheering, whistling. “Bat-awn Rooooj!” Letty yells into the mic before another sold-out house. “How y’all doin’ tonight, you beautiful Cajun motherfuckers?” She rests a foot on the nearest monitor. “We’re Killer Buzz Float, and we came to whip y’all’s asses with some modern ’70s rock fusion. Who’s ready to get beat?” The fans answer, and I give it to them. One, two, three, four…   Center stage, four sets of feet escape gravity’s pull in a synchronized glam-rock high jump. Rax, Toombs, and Shades lift the necks of their instruments and slash them in time to my first downbeat. Letty’s hair swishes, taking instruction from her banging head as hard, rich, raw guitar notes and wall-shaking bass rip the speakers and fill the place with audio dynamite. The ensuing explosion rocks even me to my shoes, and I’m used to this stuff. Not since our first show together have I been this energized, this hungry to give an audience my all. It feels so good to get back the emotion I lost somewhere along the way. As my arms and legs do their dance, Toombs and I share moments of connection. He’s the only thing I see when I look up from my kit. Filled with renewed confidence, I channel every bit of soul I’ve got into my performance. I ignore the burn in my muscles. I put myself out there as I plan to do at the Armstrong Suites later, exposed yet in total control. For the first time in ages, the beats flowing in and out are a part of me, rather than apart from me. And I know why. It’s because of Toombs. The kiss we shared yesterday cut away the shackles of guilt and worry. He freed me from my fears. And I bet he’ll free me some more in two hours. I channel this raging river of desire into my limbs, banging, crashing, stroking every tune to perfection. When we launch into our last song of the gig, Toombs finds me buried in my own little pattern and hops my wave. Normally, it’s Shades I connect most with when we play. We’re the rhythm section. We’re supposed to complement each other. But Toombs Page 30

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey is a drummer through and through, and no amount of limelight the six-string brings can unsettle the unwavering core of who he is: an engineer of beats, a layer of foundations, a creator of soul. And soon (I hope), the man who claims Jinx Hardwick as his. Verse One I’m sweaty. And stinky. And nervous. I clap my bouncing knees together in the back seat of the cab. Toombs sits on my left, staring out the rain-streaked window. Rax is on my right, eyes burning a hole into the side of my head. Aside from small talk about how awesome the show was, no one has said much. The windshield wipers smear fat droplets across the glass. Lightning emblazons neon white veins in the skin of the sky. Thunder chases it with a sonic boom, ripping open the silence of night. Toombs fidgets, leans back, and steals a glance at me. God, after a few intense moments we shared onstage, I want him so badly, I can’t even look at him. I wish Rax would disappear. The thought of sharing Toombs with him rouses the green-eyed monster. But I’m prepared to do it. I can’t go on needing him like this, especially after that kiss. I’ve thought about little else, and I’ve never been so hungry for someone in my life. The taxi pulls under the cover of the Armstrong Suites entrance, and we pile out. The trunk pops open. Bags come out. Rax pays the driver, and in we go, another round of thunder and lightning ushering us through the doors. While Rax gets our room key, Toombs and I embark on another awkward dance in which I look at him just as he looks away and vice versa. “I’m gonna need a shower,” I say. “There’s probably booze in the minibar,” he says at the same time. Good thinking. I force a smile. “Yeah. I’ll need something to loosen me up.” “You can shower first.” Again, our words crash together. Lifting my head, I study his handsome face for a long moment. Short-cropped dark hair. Goatee. Straight nose. Catlike lips. Angular cheekbones. Ink splattered everywhere. And those mesmerizing eyes. Hard to notice the frightening tattoos disappearing from his neck into his leather jacket when those eyes are on me. Toombs is likely giving the hotel staff who keep warily glancing our way a quiet conniption. I don’t care what anyone thinks. His ink is gorgeous to me. It projects a gruesome outer appearance, but it doesn’t define what’s inside. Maybe he’s a chameleon too. I lift a hand to touch the painted-on gash across his throat, pause halfway up, and think the better of it. One, two, three, four…one, two, three, four…I tap softly at my sides. “Thank you for the flower,” I whisper. No one’s ever given me one before. His quiet stare cuts into me like a white-hot laser. What does he see when he looks at me? The flaying comes to a halt when Rax saunters over, a dark grin plastered to his face. “All set.” Toombs says nothing as he grabs my bag and his own. We follow Rax into the elevator and up to the top floor. Rax shoves the key into the slot and throws open the door. “Shades got us the fucking penthouse suite.” My jaw drops as we walk inside. The place is huge. Panoramic view of the city with floor-to-ceiling windows. A California king-sized bed adorned with four fat pillows. Jacuzzi big enough for eight people. Separate office area. Another bedroom in an alcove with an extra full bath. A bar stocked with enough liquor to host a Killer Buzz Float party. “Fucking rad.” Rax slips behind the bar and grabs a bottle. I’m completely awed. I didn’t realize Shades’s dad was this rich. Wow. I stand before the windows and watch the rain fall. My back heats. I don’t need to turn around to know it’s Toombs. I’d recognize his heartbeat anywhere. My skin goes on high alert, tingling with swarms of shivers. I surprise myself and reach back to rub his crotch. Might as well get straight to business. He’s soft, but it only takes a couple seconds for that to change. Without touching me anywhere else, he closes the distance between us and presses his hardening length against my backside. Resting my head against his shoulder, I shut my eyes and will the inner trembling to stop. I trust this man to take care of me. I have no other choice. A shock of thunder rips me from my reverie, and I straighten. When my lids snap Page 31

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey open, Rax is in front of me watching Toombs and me with the detached interest of a snake trying to decide whether it’s hungry. “Drink?” He holds up a short, squat bottle full of dark amber liquid. I press my lips together and nod, accepting the Crown Royal Black. I unscrew the cap and turn up the glass. It burns like hell going down, but I need this. Wincing, I return the bottle and wipe my mouth with the back of my wrist. Rax pulls a couple of gulps and waves it at Toombs, who shakes his head behind me. I slip away from them and pick up my bag. I poke a thumb toward the bathroom. “Just gonna grab a shower.” Rax rakes his gaze down my front. “Take your time. We’ve got all night.” I swallow hard and shuffle into the restroom. Once the door is shut, I brace my palms on the counter and scrutinize myself in the mirror. My blond hair is a ratty nest of random strands stuck to my skin. Lines of dried, salty sweat encrust my face. Black smudges of makeup surround my brown eyes. “Clean yourself up and go back in there ready to fuck,” I coach my reflection. Not a big fan of saying the F word or those C words Letty likes to toss around, but if I play up the attitude, maybe I’ll believe in myself a little more. And if I believe in me, I’m more likely not only to accept but to embrace whatever happens tonight. Still can’t believe I’m doing this. I strip, get in the shower, and clean up. The water is so soothing, I don’t want to leave. I stand under the spray until it turns cold. The alcohol seduces me into a false sense of security. Good. I need that. Fake bravado will do wonders for me. When I finally climb out, I comb my hair and give it a quick blow-dry. I start to put my pajamas on, but then I realize they’ll probably come right off. So, how to make my “grand entrance”? Put on the PJs anyway? Drape a towel around myself? Rax and Toombs are going to maul me. Why not just put it all out there from the get-go and save time on fighting with pesky clothing? Be bold, Jinx, the alcohol advises. I listen. The towel drops, I open the door, and cold air hits my naked body, lighting up a full array of goosebumps across my flesh. Doing my damnedest to keep my hands from covering my breasts or pussy—I wince at the thought of speaking that word aloud—I throw off as much self-consciousness as my Catholic guilt will allow and scan the room. Rax lies naked on the massive fluffy bed. A bottle of absinthe rests on the bedside table, a sweating glass beside it. He turns toward me, then props himself on his elbows with a heavy-lidded grin. His dick rises to attention before my eyes. “God-fucking-damn, Jinxie.” He scampers off the bed and circles me. “I know we said what happens here stays here, but you’re gonna make it hard for my eyes to forget the treat they’re feasting on. I’ll bet that pussy will stay on my mind for a long time coming too. Shit, girl.” He makes a show of licking from the heel of his palm to the tips of his fingers, and strokes his rigid cock. The full package of Rax is something out of a porno. Yeah, I saw him on the bus the time he and Toombs cornered me, but the lightning and shadows here emphasize his features much more favorably. Or maybe it’s the alcohol and flattery making him appear hotter. Either way, I can’t deny the wetness gathering between my legs. His shaggy hair is freshly clean and still a little damp. He must’ve taken a shower in the other bathroom. No topknot tonight, just black, luxurious waves falling around his face in a perfect frame. His crystal-blue eyes are sharp as glass and lodged into my naked flesh. The open-mouthed snake ready to rip open his throat slithers down his back, winds around his tight, tanned abs, and ends at the head of his jutting dick. He stops in front of me, scrapes his upper teeth over his lower lip, drawing my attention to the twin metal fangs of silver at the corners. The smell of him makes me woozy. His dark, deep, heavy musk penetrates my nose and burrows straight into my raging libido like a damn leech. Movement from the other bathroom scatters my thoughts further. Nervous, I crack my knuckles as Toombs enters the room behind me. I can’t turn around. I use Rax’s expression to gauge what Toombs is doing. Rax’s raised brow makes me think Toombs is naked. Fully erect. Ready to roll. God, I hope so. Rax loses focus and returns to me. I sense Toombs’s heartbeat homing in, and I tremble with anticipation. Touch me, I beg him. Nothing. Rax cups my breasts, rubs his thumbs over my hard, metal-laden nipples. “I want to Page 32

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey taste you so bad, Jinx.” He doesn’t wait for permission. While squeezing the left breast, Rax darts his tongue across my right nipple and seals his mouth around it. The shock pulls a hiss out of me. My head tips backward and lands on Toombs’s bare shoulder. Rax sucks so hard, it hurts. He’s gonna leave a nasty hickey. Desperate to manage the pain-filled pleasure, I turn my face up to Toombs’s. Out of nowhere, two fingers penetrate me, and Toombs urges me closer. He slips through the glut of wetness between my legs and pauses when he hits the metal piercing there. A slow smile glides over his lips. He probes while Rax indulges in my other breast. “Clit piercing,” Toombs mumbles. “I love surprises like this.” Rax pauses. “What?” He looks down. So do I. Between a thumb and forefinger, Toombs takes the ends of the curved stud vertically impaling the hood of my clit. He pulls. My legs part to give him better access. Rax drops to his knees, his eyes wider now, despite the obvious absinthe high. “Fuck. Me.” Rax’s hot exhalation against my super-sensitive nub draws a bead of liquid from within. He swats Toombs aside, grasps my hips and drags my pussy to his face, lapping up the droplet and coaxing a damn flood from within. The ghosts of Toombs’s teases and the unexpected wave of pleasure from Rax’s highly adept tongue throw my senses into a tailspin. This is too much, too fast. I’m going to come, and I don’t want Rax to be the reason I do. I react the only way I know how. I shove him. He falls to the lush carpet and laughs. His hair splays around his head. His lips are glazed with my juices. “Jinx has the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” he says to Toombs. I wait for Toombs to respond—maybe beg for a taste of his own—but he remains silent. I turn to him and drape my hands across his shoulders. The Crown Royal fueling my desire and murdering my inhibitions, I say, “What can I do for you?” Letty would be so proud. I tentatively touch his dick. When he doesn’t flinch or twist away, I pump it, focusing on those hard beads beneath his veined flesh. I thumb the stud sticking out of the hole at the top of the head. His irises darken to gunmetal gray. The pupils within narrow to slits. Lightning wages war on the night sky, thunder heralds it seconds later, and rain pelts the windows with renewed vigor. Toombs’s gaze shifts from me to Rax on the floor. “I wanna watch you fuck Rax.” And my balloon of hope pops louder than the deafening crashes outside. No. Please, no. I want to do you.   His hard eyes confirm he’s made up his mind. Though, I wonder whether this is what Toombs wants or what Rax told him to want. I look down at Rax’s smug face. He’s stroking his dick to a beat I don’t recognize. It’s too fast. Too unpredictable. Too far out of my comfort zone. I turn to Toombs and let go of him. “Okay. I’ll fuck him. And I’ll make you regret you didn’t ask to be first.” Shit. Did I say that? This isn’t me. This is liquid courage talking. Toombs’s breath hitches with a second’s worth of either regret or anticipation. Who can tell with him? Then he settles back into the familiar, smug, assholey expression that assures me he doesn’t give a shit about me or my feelings. Fine. I turn away from them both, grab the absinthe, and swig it. I stifle a cough. The green alcohol is disgusting, but I need to fuel this unexpected surge of bravery now more than ever. I’m going to do Rax and get it over with. I hope Toombs is as devastated as I am when it’s all said and done. He wants spite sex? That’s exactly what he’ll get. Rax is lit up like New York City on New Year’s Eve. He’s beaming. The perfect counterbalance to Toombs, who’s withdrawn into himself yet again, giving no warning or explanation for why he so brutally evicted the guy hiding under Rax’s thumb. Man, I miss that guy. Nothing about this scene is right, but at this point, I’m so full of wrong, I’ll do whatever they want and ask myself for forgiveness later. I’m driving the bus to hell anyway. May as well take a little vacation while I’m in town. I glance at Rax. He’s an asshole, but damn, he sets me afire with need. He’s already proven he’s an expert with his mouth. I can only imagine what kinds of miracles his dick can work on a girl. I climb into the huge bed with Rax right on my heels. Starting at my feet, he prowls the length of my body, stopping at random pressure points to kiss, lick, and suck. Page 33

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey He sweeps his tongue over my toes and up my legs, pausing to exhale long and hard across my clit. I moan softly as my thighs part with a will of their own. He breathes gently on the wetness but saves his next kiss for the tender space just below my pierced belly button. I tense and arch off the mattress as another spring of liquid heat wells. Panic seizes me. Rax whisks away all my bravado from seconds ago in the space of a few miserable heartbeats. Where’s Toombs? I’ve lost track of him. I need him to help me deal with this raging desire to have Rax fill me with his big, thick cock. Speaking of…the dick in question skips up my leg and stops just outside of the Erogenous Zone. Rax settles his heavy weight on top of me and jockeys for my mouth. I wrench my head away before he can tag my lips. “No kissing. Not with you.” As I say the words, my gaze lands on Toombs. He slinks to the bed. Finally.   Rax feasts on my neck, growling, lighting up nerve endings with needles of pleasure. His long locks tickle my skin, maddening. He flicks a nipple. I stare up at Toombs, silently begging him to throw Rax off or at the very least, him. Instead, Toombs scoots onto the mattress and sits near my head. He surveys me from top to bottom, dark pools of silver glittering behind the half-lowered shades of his lids. I reach for his dick, but he gently pushes my hand away. Why? Why the hell does he deny me when it’s so obvious I want him? Frustration burns my skin. Rax rolls to his side, and his appreciative gaze does a tumbleweed dance over me. “I’m gonna do you right, Jinxie. You’re so fucking hot. I can’t wait to get you off.” The earnestness in his voice tells me he intends to make this a night I’ll never forget. That scares me. His fingers delve between my legs, slipping in and out in that same clunky rhythm he stroked himself to before. Why do I have to be so wet? I’m only encouraging the wrong guy to do all the right things. Anxious for grounding, a handhold, a safety net—anything—I stroke Toombs’s cheek. His eyes flap shut for a long moment. Against my will, my hips rock to Rax’s rhythm. Rax sits up and licks one of his fingers, then slips the other in Toombs’s mouth. Toombs sucks my wetness off. His cunning smile frightens me. Save me from him, Toombs. Please save me.   He feeds me to the wolf instead. Rax wanders back down south, positioning himself between my open legs. Toombs kneels behind my head and leans forward. Shadowing me, he cups my ass like a bowl and offers Rax a drink. Silver loop fangs flash from the sides of Rax’s mouth, and he dives in like it’s opening day at the beach. No. I want Toombs there. Not Rax. I— Oh…God. Rax’s tongue parts my pussy lips and eases inside. Slow. So damn slow. Toombs looks down at me. My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water gasping for breath. Why do I feel like I’m drowning in wrong? Because I’m staring into Toombs’s eyes, wishing it were him eating me out rather than his best friend, that’s why. The flick of Rax’s tongue over my pierced hood coaxes a sharp inhale from me. A hiss through my bared teeth follows. My voice box has gone on strike. So, I beg Toombs with my eyes: Please rescue me from this guilty pleasure. Carry me away from here to someplace where it’s just you and me and a set of drums to beat between us. No luck. The exquisite torture continues, and Toombs does nothing to intervene. I can’t tell if he’s enjoying watching me get off or if he’s thoroughly disgusted. Despite my head’s desperate attempt not to enjoy Rax’s gifts, I’m set to blow. “Please stop,” I whisper. I rake my fingers through Rax’s luxurious hair, urging his mouth harder against my clit. My hips thrust eagerly. More. God, please, more. The vibrations from his laughter only add to the sensory overload about to reach orgasmic proportions. What am I doing? My mind swims. I’m falling. My blood rushes. Then… Rescue.   With feather-soft, upside-down kisses, Toombs quiets each gasp Rax’s sin-inducing, Page 34

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey forked tongue elicits from me. Toombs uses only his lips to kiss me—no tongue or teeth. Not suggestive or rough, just tiny, warm assurances that it’ll be okay. That he’s with me. That he won’t let anything bad happen. “Toombs…” The word comes out as more air than meaning. My arms cling to him like iron to an electromagnet. I hold on for dear life as Rax throws me overboard with the final thrust of his tongue. Toombs fully commits to saving me and jumps in with sweet caresses to my cheeks. His lips me with the strength of a lion. “Oh God. Oh fuck…” I mumble against him as I mount the pinnacle and relinquish control to Toombs’s—not Rax’s—capable mouth. Flailing in a pitiful attempt to hold on to him, I dig my heels hard into the bed, grinding my flooded pussy into Rax’s face. I want to smother him with it. To drown him in the ocean of lust he created. Rax slurps loudly, pulls away, and slaps my thigh. “Fuck yeah!” he yells, then flops onto his back like a felled tree. “God damn, that is some sweet motherfucking pussy.” Toombs lets go of me too, and I’m alone. I’m wrecked. My pulse hammers in my veins. Heat floods every crevice. Sweat dots my skin. I’m dizzy from the combination of alcohol, near-hyperventilation, and the rush of the hottest orgasm I’ve ever experienced. I dare not look at Toombs for fear of the disappointment I’ll see in his eyes. The bed groans beside me as he gets up. Pushing my hair out of my face and trying to collect my breath, I raise up to my elbows. Toombs paces the room, avoiding me. Yep. He’s disgusted. I look down at myself. I’m kinda disgusted too. I grab the covers, toss them over my naked body, and sink into the mattress with a hand over my eyes. Shit. I knew I shouldn’t have done this. I’ve ruined everything, and we didn’t even get to penetration. “What’s wrong, Jinxie?” Heat and a sudden tug on my nipple stud startle me. Rax is back at it, tonguing the metal. I push him off. “Don’t call me that.” Outside, lightning zippers open the curtain of night with a blinding white gash. Toombs growls from the other side of the bed, his hungry eyes targeted on me, his dick pointed at me accusingly. The sweet, tender man who kissed me through my orgasm has left the building. All that remains is a caged, horny beast. The metal ball protruding through the head of his dick calls to me. I lick my lips, the shame from a few moments ago already forgotten. A blast of thunder rattles the windows and walls. I’ve already gotten my jollies. Now it’s Toombs’s turn. I don’t give a shit about Rax. I beckon to Toombs. He hesitates. Looks to Rax for guidance. Or maybe permission. I don’t like the dynamic between them. Rax is an overbearing, selfish control freak. Why should Toombs have to ask whom he can have sex with? Adamant, I wave Toombs over. “Come here.” Without moving a muscle, he balances his gaze between Rax and me. “If you wanna suck a cock, have mine. Toombs isn’t into it.” Rax sits up and shakes his dick at me threateningly. “I’ll suck whoever’s…cock I want.” Just saying that word makes me cringe. Especially with Rax holding me at gunpoint with his. “As long as it belongs to Rax, you sure will.” Rax crawls over and tears the duvet off me. I sit up straight and meet him eye to eye, close enough to kiss. “Forget it.” My upper lip curls. I’m sick of him bossing everyone around. Screw that. We engage in a hardcore staring contest for the longest fifteen seconds of my life. I’m about to concede defeat when he turns his head to the side. “If you won’t suck it, Toombs will.” I swallow. No. Please don’t humiliate Toombs like that. Please. Toombs’s gaze falls on the cock Rax strokes. The tattooed tail might as well belong to a rattler. Rax is as mean as one. Toombs slinks closer to the bed. I can’t let him do it. Not in front of me. When they’re alone doing their thing, that’s their business. Here…I just don’t think I can handle seeing them together that way. I wrestle the snake out of Rax’s grip, shove it halfway down my gullet, and stare at Toombs while I endeavor to suffocate the bastard. His expression falters. He didn’t think I’d do it. His thick shoulders bunch, tattoos ripple. Page 35

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey Rax clamps a hand to the back of my head and guides me up and down by the hair. Again, that rhythm I don’t like. I keep my eyes on Toombs. He licks his lips. Inches forward, then stops. I suck. Toombs turns away. Paces, rubbing his short hair furiously, desperately, angrily. Looks back at me. Rax is apparently oblivious. “You like that big cock, don’t you, Jinxie? You like me choking you. Little whore.” I clamp down and scrape his length with my teeth good and hard as I pull his dick out of my mouth. He jerks. Rax sits up ramrod straight. The jerk throws me off. A millisecond of shock prevents me from doing anything but falling over. A fuming Toombs flanks me, and the red in my vision prompts me to react. I jump on top of Rax, rear back, and punch him right in the face. “You will not pull that shit with me. I’m not your whore, motherfucker, and I sure as shit am not your slave.” My chest heaves. I’m quaking with rage. Toombs is clearly agitated too. Fists balled at his sides, he growls, baring his teeth at Rax. Suddenly, Rax is staring me in the eye, nose barely touching mine. “I underestimated you, Jinx.” The snake smiles despite the shiner already threatening to plump his cheek. He presses his fingers to it and winces. I flex my sore digits and shake them out. Throwing that punch hurt like a bitch, but it was totally worth it. Lightning and thunder strike. Outside, the raging wind and pelting rain fuel me. I’m a lightning rod, eager to prove I can take not only a zapping but an entire storm. Anger boils on my tongue until steam-powered words, desperate for release, fly from my mouth. “Yes. You did underestimate me.” From the corner of my eye, tattooed flesh catches my attention, and a heavy arm protectively crosses my chest. Toombs’s other hand clamps Rax’s Adam’s apple. Rax cocks his head and narrows his harsh gaze on Toombs. Apparently, Rax underestimated Toombs too. Didn’t see that coming, but I’m glad of it. Tensions soar, threatening to bring down the roof, bad weather be damned. The three of us are deadlocked. “Suck my cock, Toombs.” Rax’s voice is low, even, intimidating like a father who’s had enough of his petulant child. His deadly calm frightens me. The entire dynamic between us shifts unexpectedly as Toombs lowers his hands, letting go of both of us. Damn it. I want to stop him, to beg him not to submit to Rax’s whims, but Toombs has to make his own decisions. I only control Jinx. The shapes of Toombs’s eyes morph from the harsh, immoveable lines of an angry predator to the soft curves of newborn prey. His thick black lashes sweep downward. He’s been put back in his place. Disappointment suffuses me. Rax and I are now equals. Toombs is…not. Toombs lowers himself to waist level and takes all ten inches of Rax’s length into his mouth. A part of me dies as Rax relaxes into the bed, his taunting gaze latched onto me as if gloating over a hard-won prize. His fingers stroke the back of Toombs’s short-trimmed hair. He’ll pay for this. If he wants a pissing contest, I’ll give him one. I ease down and assume control of Toombs’s dick. His thighs clench as I rub my thumb over the beads lodged inside, over the studded tip, and a ragged moan sneaks past his mouthful. I worship Toombs’s decorated cock like it’s the end of the world. Hell, it might be. There’s a good chance I’ll never have him again after this shit with Rax. I’d better make it worth my—and his—while. Ignoring Rax’s grunts and jerks, I focus on the smooth spaces of skin between the embedded beads, tracing lines around them with the tip of my tongue. Both guys’ gasps mingle and dance around each other. I cup Toombs’s balls. Squeeze. Pull. Tug. With each motion, his body loosens. Muscles slacken. In a minute, he’s moving with me, nudging his shaft against the back of my throat. This rhythm I recognize. It’s steady as a Swiss watch. I close my eyes and savor the sixteenth notes of each studded bump against my palate. My tongue beats staccato quarter notes under his length. My pants accent the high points of our song like Page 36

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey lingering vibrations from cymbal crashes. I’ve only been with a handful of guys before, and oral has never been a favorite, but I like giving it to Toombs. The heartbeat pulsing in his veined shaft calls to mine, a thudding bass drum demanding my attention. I swear I feel music between us. Haunting, fleeting music. A heavy, guttural groan interrupts our song. Damn Rax. Always Rax. “Toombs sucks a mean cock too.” Rax sits up and playfully pushes Toombs aside. The dick rolls with him, out of my grasp. “You’re not still mad at me, are you, Jinx?” Rax stands, slides open the drawer on the bedside table, and takes out a box of condoms. A big welt has popped up under his eye where I hit him. Good. I don’t answer. He removes a packet and tosses the box to Toombs, who gets off the bed and follows suit. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God…   I sit back and squeeze my knees together as they roll their rubbers into place. They’re not going to do me at the same time, are they? I’d hoped we’d either avoid double penetration altogether or at least ease into it. I tried anal sex exactly once, and I didn’t enjoy it. At all. Toombs catches my eye, and the remains of my stomach turn to mush. Maybe it would be different with him. No inhibitions.   “If you’d rather watch than participate, that’s cool. Either way, I’m getting off. You or Toombs? Who gets Raxed first?” Rax wields his cock like a sword and laughs. Under normal circumstances, I’d be mortified, but right now, my body is running on alcohol and endorphin fumes, and I just want someone to fuck me. Preferably Toombs with Rax nowhere in sight. Wait a minute. Did he say “first”? Toombs lowers his gaze. I hate how submissive he is with Rax. I want to protect him. To whisk him away from Rax’s influence. I want to prove to Toombs that I’m the one he needs. Toombs is Rax’s sub. Nothing I say or do will change that. But I’ll do my best to minimize Rax’s influence while I’ve got Toombs in my sights. “I’ll do it,” I say. It’s gonna be a long night. Chorus “Prepare to be boarded.” Rax strokes his dick a few times. Lightning illuminates his profile, casting crazy shadows that make him look more malevolent than usual. Somehow the snake’s tail gets longer. I swallow. “How do you want it?” Courage fails me again, and my words sound ridiculous. I consider taking another shot of Rax’s absinthe, but I don’t want to out. And if Toombs plans to stick any of his body parts in me, I damn sure want to that portion of this evening from hell. Rax edges forward. Thunder booms. Toombs lingers behind him. I lock my eyes on Toombs as Rax eases me to the mattress. He latches onto a nipple, pulls, and lets go. The head of his dick presses against my wetness as rain pelts the windows. My hand involuntarily sweeps through his hair, urging him to continue even though I wish it were Toombs instead. His chest crushes mine, and with one thrust, he’s deep inside. My lips part, I cry out, and my head tilts up. Staring down at me with possession flaring in his hypnotic blue eyes, Rax grins like he owns me. He strokes my hair too gently, tripping subtle warnings in my sex-steeped gravy brain. “Easy, baby. Easy.” Where does this sudden affection come from? I reach for Toombs. My palm meets his, and our fingers entwine. He gives me a squeeze and sits beside me as Rax lunges in and out. With each ingress, a little part of my relative innocence dies while another part of me awakens. I open my legs wider, lift my pelvis to meet Rax’s rough thrusts, while staring into the silver Page 37

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey pools of the man I love. Grasping my chin, Rax wrestles my gaze away and forces me to look at him. I’m shocked by the devotion that’s taken up residence in his face. “Be with me, Jinx. Right here. Right now. You’re mine. Forget about Toombs. He’s mine too.” “I’ll never be yours.” I steal a glance at Toombs as he strokes himself, those seductive beads and that stud calling to me. His torn expression rips me too. The lower half of me absorbs the brutal waves of Rax’s battle cry, but my upper half belongs to Toombs. I pull him closer and gently take his cock into my command. His head leans back as I suck. I focus on those hard ridges, the metal tip, the heavy balls swinging behind his dick. Rax disappears despite his attempts to monopolize my attention. There’s only Toombs, his dick, and my mouth. My teeth scuff the raised skin over the implants, and he groans. Afraid I hurt him, I stop. He looks down, his eyes afire with desire. He kneads my breast, fondles the metal through the nipple. “Do it again. Bite my cock, Jinx. Hard.” A plea rather than a demand. Rax lifts his head and watches us in silence. I don’t give a damn whether he likes it or not. I do as Toombs asks, grazing his length up and down with my teeth, adjusting the pressure from light to hard and back again. Every time I dig into his skin beneath the rubber, he pants harder, and his thrusts into my mouth speed up. I clamp onto his balls and squeeze. Toombs gasps and eases backward. He pinches the head of his dick. “Fuck.” Another set of teeth gets involved as Rax runs his lips down the line of my neck. Hisses and kisses intertwine to form an 0ff-kilter rhythm. “Your pussy is so tight. I bet it’ll be even tighter when Toombs gets inside you too.” He pulls out and points his dick at Toombs. “Taste her. She’s fucking amazing.” Toombs eagerly drops to his knees before Rax like a servant before his master and takes the rubber-sheathed dick into his mouth. Long pulls on the length. Both of their moans fill my ears. Part of me is mortified watching Toombs show such tenderness to his Dom, but the other part secretly wishes I were Rax. Or at least as revered as Rax seems to be. I’m insanely jealous. I want Toombs to taste me firsthand. I want his lips and tongue inside me, fucking me. Let Rax watch for once. Toombs’s gaze falls to my waiting pussy as he blows Rax. Maybe he wants a taste too. I adjust my hips so he can get a better view, and there’s that glorious moan again. God, the sound alone could get me off. “You wanna fuck her, don’t you?” Rax looks down and roughs Toombs’s goatee. Toombs removes Rax’s cock from his mouth and stares at me. “Fuck yes.” My head nearly explodes. Finally. Rax backs up, pulls off the condom, tosses it to the floor, and grabs another from the box. “Only after I fuck you first.” Rax rolls a fresh rubber over his dick. What? No! I sit up. Lube comes out of the drawer, and Rax greases up with several squirts. Toombs avoids my gaze as he gets on all fours. “You don’t have to do this,” I say. Please don’t do this. He doesn’t reply. The sight of him prostrating himself before Rax makes my gut churn. Rax eases inside of Toombs while I watch in frozen horror. Brows squeezed together, Toombs jerks his head up as Rax pushes all the way in. Then Toombs’s expression melts from one of pain into one of guilty pleasure. So, he enjoys being taken by Rax. Well, duh. Of course he does. It’s not like this should be a surprise. Rax grins at me as he slides in and out to that godforsaken rhythm I’ve decided I hate. I’m beaten. Torn. Unsure. And a little humiliated for Toombs even though he doesn’t seem to mind being butt-fucked in front of me. All I can do is watch as two bodies writhe together, tattooed muscle and sinew twisting, rolling, stretching across each other. It’s clear they’ve done this many times. Rax winds his fingers around Toombs’s throat and exerts pressure. Toombs exhales slowly. His head points forward, but his eyes keep wandering back to mine. I can’t tell if he’s embarrassed to look at me or means to include me. Seeing them like this is killing me. They fit like puzzle pieces. They’re meant to be together. I’m once again the outsider. I want out of here. “What do you think, Jinx?” Rax strokes Toombs’s back. “He looks good impaled on my Page 38

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey cock, no?” He slaps Toombs’s ass hard enough to leave a handprint. “He’d look better impaling me.” Did I really say that? Damn. Maybe my empty bravado will earn me back a smidgeon of the control Rax seems to own in this scenario. Just do it, Jinx. Be bold. Show Toombs how much you want him. How much you need him.   Quiet grunts escape Toombs’s mouth. I back my ass into his front, and he raises up on his knees to accommodate me. His dick is rock hard, jutting bigger and thicker than before. I need it between my legs. Pumping me full of him, adornments and all. This is it. I’m going for it. Rax increases his thrusts. I place Toombs’s hands on my hips, bend over, and present my back end to him. “God fucking damn it, Jinx.” A pair of callused fingers plunge inside my pussy, and I tense for a moment. I glance over my shoulder. Lids shut, Toombs drives in and out a couple of times, then licks my juices from his digits, his face a mask of raw rapture. Rax’s cheek twitches. Discomfort? Loss of control? Either way, victory for me. “Fuck me, Toombs.” I refuse to a wait a second longer. I grab that beast of a dick and guide it inside, focusing on the pearls ripping me as they the threshold. Oh God. Toombs is inside me. His dick fills me not only physically but emotionally. I had no clue how much I needed him until now. Even with Rax hammering him from behind, Toombs is with me. All the way. I feel it in his touch. We’re connected. He’s absolute perfection. I wish I could see his face. Since I can’t, I focus on his rhythm. I buck against the balls softly slapping the stud in my hood. Rax disappears from our song, and there’s only Toombs, buffering, tempering the blows driving us both. “Don’t you dare come inside her, Toombs.” Rax’s attempt at further control. What the hell does he care if Toombs comes inside me? He’s wearing a condom. Unless Rax wants first dibs. Screw him. “Come wherever and whenever you want, Toombs,” I say. I may not have any sway over Toombs while Rax is around, but I’m damn sure going to fight for him every opportunity I get. Toombs moans. Hands wander around to my swinging breasts. He thumbs my nipple rings and launches another round of gentle thrusts despite the brutal ones he endures behind me. Oh my God. He’s trying to protect me from Rax. His tenderness kills me. “Yes,” I whisper. “Just like that.” I lower my cheek to the covers and absorb him. Rax might be driving this train, but Toombs is the one inside me. Toombs owns me. Not Rax. Our beats become one. Heart beats. Drum beats. Sex beats. My body shudders under Toombs’s reluctant command. His beads rub me just right. He glides slow enough to keep from abrading me, but fast enough to make me lust for more. His hands warm my ass. His hurried breaths match mine. I imagine his lids are heavy with hunger for me. I love you, I wish I could say. Instead, “I want your cum.” A low groan issues from behind me, building, rising in pitch. Rax. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna give it to you, baby.” All forward motion stops. Toombs pulls out. The bed dips. Rax flips me onto my back and hovers over my spread legs, Toombs beside him. Two dicks point at me. The condoms come off. Rax’s head drops back. “Fuuuck…” he pumps his erection and cuts loose all over the blank canvas above my pussy. Thick white globs decorate my belly like icing on a cake. Five, six, seven shots…still coming… I meet Toombs’s silver gaze. “Kiss me while you come.” I urge him closer. He glances to Rax, who’s coaxing the last of his load onto me. “Don’t look at him. Look at me.” Reticence underscores his expression, but Toombs crawls the length of my body, hovering above me, stroking his cock. His lips hit mine, and something inside me explodes. Not an orgasm, but a heartgasm. Rax disappears from my line of sight. My arms curl around Toombs’s neck. I take control of his dick. His kiss warms my soul from the inside out. He’s heaven. Pure and simple. Disarming in his frightening ink and gauche piercings. Page 39

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “Bite me,” Toombs mumbles between kisses. Urgent. Desperate. “Slap me. Scratch me. I need you to hurt me, Jinx.” What? I pull back and stare at him, hoping the question is obvious in my eyes. I can’t hurt him. I just can’t. His expression pleads. I caress his cheek and beg back. Please don’t make me do this. A loud crack sears the air. At first I think it’s lightning, but Toombs’s entire body jerks. He arches backward, baring clenched teeth. Rax stands behind him, wielding a belt, an evil grin plastered over his face. Quaking with outrage, fear, and disbelief, I yell, “Stop it!” Instinct takes over, and I tighten my arms around Toombs to protect him. Toombs shakes his head, reclaims his erection from my palm, and pumps it hard. He wants Rax to hit him. Another snap of leather across Toombs’s ass. I jump at the terrible sound, and squeeze my eyes shut. When I reopen them, Toombs’s face slackens, rife with forbidden desire. Rife with pleasure I don’t understand. Rife with submission. But submission to whom? Rax or me? Or both? “Goddamn it. Fuck…” Toombs explodes all over my belly through uneven hisses, anchoring his gaze on my wide eyes as if we’ve done this countless times before. His lips drop to mine. I indulge greedily, cling to his mouth, his touch, his everything. I’m consumed. By what, I don’t know. A bizarre mixture of confusion, elation, fear, uncertainty, guilt, triumph, and loss of control…Whatever it is, this energy between us, these raging, perfectly matched heartbeats must mean something. Rax snaps the makeshift whip once more, ruining our moment of communion, stealing the air from Toombs’s lungs, and mine by default. “Stop it!” I shout again. I don’t want to be turned on, but the pure, wild need smeared across Toombs’s face makes me so fucking wet. Rax laughs. Toombs is still coming. The heat of each squirt on my burning flesh is a strange affirmation that he at least cares. What have I gotten myself into with these two? My brain is scrambled. Forget about it for now. You can sort it out tomorrow. Just feel him. Just be with him. Love him while he’ll let you.   I claim his lips again and will my thoughts to merge into his. I love you, Toombs Badcock. I don’t understand you, but damn it, I love you. The subtle press of his tongue into mine tells me he got my message. That’s all I need. When the heat of the moment simmers, Toombs backs off me, his skin flushed and sweaty from exertion. He and Rax exchange smirks like a secret handshake, and both dive face first into the puddle of cum on my belly. My knees react, barely missing their noses. Tongues swirl through white cream, mingling and tickling me. A fresh rush of liquid warmth floods my pussy. There’s a ninety percent chance I’ll spontaneously combust if they keep this up. They make a show of savoring their prize, like wild lions burying their faces in the blood of their kill. A rivulet escapes the corner of Toombs’s mouth, and Rax rescues it with a quick sweep. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.   When their mouths settle on mine, I’m a goner. The three of us become one. Like our music onstage with thunder punctuating the rhythm in the background. Rax’s tongue pushes Toombs out of the way, and fills my palate with the combined taste of them. I don’t have the strength to fight, so I submit to Rax’s invasive kisses. Wiping his mouth with the flat of his hand, Toombs watches longingly. Jealously. “Goddamn, wild thing.” Lightning illuminates Rax’s face. Pure possession. He grinds his semihard dick against my thigh and licks my cum-drenched lips. “I think I love you.” Thunder crashes. Rax is going to be a serious problem. Intermission Page 40

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey February 24 – Baton Rouge, Louisiana I wake to the pattering of raindrops against glass in predawn darkness. A warm body spans the length of my back, shoulders to calves. An arm rests within the valley above my hip. Coveting. I smile and stretch into him. When I do, pressure between my legs surprises me. Oh my God. Two fingers are crooked inside me. Fluid releases without my permission. I moan as a fresh wave of desire hits my aching pussy, demanding to be sated. A sleepy sigh hits my ears. I tense. The lust makes a hasty retreat to the cave from whence it came. It’s not Toombs. I lift the covers. Snake scale tattoos cover the arm clamping me in place. Rax. I squint, searching the dim room, desperate for reassurance that Toombs is here. No sign of him anywhere. Damn it. I gently ease Rax’s fingers out of me and gasp. Much as I despise Rax and his hold over Toombs, he did things to my body last night. Not the way Toombs did, but close. Scooting gingerly toward the edge of the bed, I glance at Rax’s sleeping form. Long waves of dark hair hide his face. Just as well. I’d rather not get sucked into the mess that is Rax again. God, what the hell did I do? I flip my long blond locks out of my eyes and smooth my forehead. You did them both, Gianna. Toombs is gone. Rax dug his fangs into you. Things will never be the same with the band.   Shit. The band. I can’t even go there. My life is so screwed right now, and Megaphonia expects us to have an entire album ready to record in just a few days. I’m not ready. For any of this. Gotta get out of here. I hit the bathroom to pee and brush my teeth. Where are my clothes? Damn, I thought I left my bag in here. I return into the main room. Rax snores softly on the bed. I avoid looking at him and head for the other bedroom. When I get there, I flip on the lights and stop dead in my tracks. A set of drums greets me. Not mine. Toombs’s. What the hell? “You in the mood to play?” Toombs’s voice from the chair in the corner startles me. I clutch my chest. If that’s not a loaded question, I don’t know what is. Self-conscious about my lack of clothing, I awkwardly cross an arm over my breasts and cover downstairs with my other hand. Not that Toombs hasn’t seen me in all my glory, but I feel so weird right now. Guilty. I can’t look him in the face. And without alcohol to fuel my wanton lust, I’m back to being struck speechless. He stands. Dressed in his usual black everything, he comes my way and stops a couple feet from me. “They brought my kit over while you were in the shower last night.” His cinnamon gum makes my mouth water. I’m dying for another taste of him. Without Rax. “Why?” My voice sounds so weak. “I thought I’d work on some new beats since you don’t seem interested in writing music for Killer Buzz Float.” I snap my gaze to his. Anger sears my words. “Not sure what you mean by that.” Eyes flashing, he closes the gap between us. Gone is the submissive Toombs held in Rax’s thrall. “You know exactly what I mean. Why don’t you just it you’re scared? Or ask for help?” I drop my arms. “I’m not scared. You are.” The condescension in his harsh laugh rakes my nerves. “What do I have to be scared of?” “Rax.” “You don’t know the first thing .” “Oh? Then how about you fill me in? I’m dying to hear why you let him control you.” “He controls nothing.” “He tells you what you can and can’t do. He dictates everything, including what you’re allowed to do with me. I thought we all agreed before we came to this hotel there would be no inhibitions. I guess that rule doesn’t apply to you because your Dom says so.” Furious, I face the door. I’m leaving. He snags my elbow and spins me around, right into his arms. My skin flushes as his limbs entangle mine. Gentle but firm. I’m not going anywhere. Not that I really wanted to. Page 41

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “I do what Rax says because I choose to.” “So, it has nothing to do with being his totally whipped sub?” I shouldn’t have said that. I gotta quit sounding so jealous, even if I am. And I have no right to demean his choice of lifestyle simply because I don’t get it. “Not a thing.” “Why Rax?” I keep the real question poised at the tip of my tongue to myself: Why a sub? “We have history.” History doesn’t mean shit if it’s built on a foundation of lies. I wonder if Toombs has any clue that Rax cheated on him with Letty and Shades. And if Rax cheated once, he’s probably done it a hundred times. He’s a snake through and through. I push out of Toombs’s embrace and stomp over to the drum kit, my nakedness forgotten. I run my knuckles over the head of the snare drum. Toombs watches like a hawk. I can’t tell if he’s protective of his set—I would be too—or if he’s interested in what I’ll do. I sit on his stool and cross my legs. “Tell me about your ‘history.’” His gaze drops to my breasts, and he licks his lips. I adjust my posture to slouch a little and hunch my shoulders. He settles on the edge of the bed and seems to gather his thoughts for a moment before speaking. “We’ve been friends since we were little kids. Grew up in the same neighborhood in Athens.” He’s actually going to talk to me? Well, it’s about time. “Where?” I ask. “Off Milledge. Near Five Points.” I raise a brow. That part of town is expensive. Old money? Surely not. Neither he nor Rax fits the rich-kid stereotype. But neither does Shades, and his dad’s a multimillionaire. He crosses an ankle over his knee and fiddles with his shoelace as he continues. “We went to Central together. Became inseparable, played music, started a few bands. He was my wingman, and I was his. I had a girlfriend my senior year. Her parents were country clubbers like mine. It got serious. We talked about getting married after college. I liked her that much. “But, I had these weird compulsions. I discovered I loved pain. I’d jerk off, and the only way I could come was if I hurt myself—squeezing my nuts, cutting, whatever. I couldn’t do that shit with my girl around. After a while, she caught on that I was faking orgasms and wanted to know what my problem was. Said she might want to have kids one day and had a right to know if there was something wrong with me. “I trusted her enough to believe she’d understand. So, I asked her to hit me while we were having sex. She freaked the fuck out and threatened to tell everyone at school I was a pervert. I knew if my parents found out, they’d take me in for counseling or some bullshit drama I didn’t need. I begged her not to rat me out. She agreed. We broke it off, and she never spoke to me again. “If it hadn’t been for Rax, I might’ve killed myself. I was so fucked up mentally, emotionally. I didn’t understand the compulsion—my intense need for pain. I only knew it was who I was.” Toombs lifts his gaze to mine. Raw emotion flays his face. I want to rush into his arms and hold him. To whisper soothing words in his ear. To kiss those lips I’ve come to love. Instead, I shiver. “Rax helped me get through the rest of senior year. He told me to forget about those uptight bitches. They would never understand. But he did. We experimented, messed around, jerked each other off. I never thought of either of us as gay. We’re just…us. He did what it took to get me off. As a friend.” “But you’re more than friends now. Your relationship has evolved into something deeper. Hasn’t it?” I don’t want to hear his answer, but I need the truth so I can figure out how to move on from here. He looks away and doesn’t reply. My heart breaks for him. And for myself. “You love him.” I force the bad-tasting words out. “Maybe.” Part of my soul crushes from the impact. I go out on a limb. I have nothing to lose. “You think it’s possible to love two people at the same time?” His gaze swings back into mine with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. “Definitely.” I don’t dare make any assumptions. That would be asking for trouble. But his answer Page 42

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey is a step in the right direction. And right now, it’s all I’ve got. “If it makes any difference, I don’t think you’re a freak.” I think you’re perfect. I stand and drag my fingers over his drums as I round the kit. I stop before him. Still self-conscious, but I pretend I’m not. He appraises me from head to toe. Primal hunger seeps into his expression. “You’re naked, Jinx.” I glance down. “Yeah.” If my dreams could take on physical form, I’d be smothered under him right now, gasping for air as he pounded the hell out of me. He takes a nipple stud between his thumb and forefinger and pulls gently. I shut my lids, basking in his closeness, this new intimacy. He palms the underside of my breast, works it in slow, agonizing circles. “Does my relationship with Rax bug you?” Yes. “No. It…confuses me.” “I see it as pretty straightforward. We’re friends who fuck women together. And sometimes each other.” “I noticed.” He latches on and suckles my breast, flicking the nipple hard with his tongue. A loud hiss sneaks out of my mouth, and I clamp an arm around his neck. He’s trying to kill me. I want him so badly, but while I’ve got him in a chatty mood, I’ll try for more answers. Talking is more important than sex. Against my libido’s will, I gently push him back. His hand reestablishes its grip, and he stares wistfully at the stud between his fingers. “I need you to be straight with me. When we first went on tour, you acted like you had a…thing for me. I gave you that poorly executed lap dance on New Year’s Eve, and you seemed to like it. Then you just… switched off. Shut me out. Did I do something to turn you away?” He lets go of my boob, and the temperature in the room drops a couple of degrees. Shit. “Am I that hideous?” My chest tightens. His head whips back my way. “No. Don’t ever say that shit. You’re…I think you’re beautiful.” My stomach does a belly flop. Me? Beautiful? To him? “Then, what happened? Everything was fine, then all of a sudden…kaput.” “You know what happened.” I smooth his rough cheek, searching his face for the answer. “No, I don’t.” “The day you caught Rax and me going at it on the bus?” “What about it?” “I figured you were totally disgusted.” “You figured wrong.” Hurt, more like. Jealous. Disappointed it wasn’t me he fondled. Not disgusted. “Like I said. Rax and I have history. Can’t change that.” “Toombs, you’re a bisexual man who’s in love with his best friend. I have no intention of coming between you. You’re happy with Rax. I just hate seeing him pushing you around. You deserve to be treated better.” Again, I overstep the line. I wish my damn feelings would quit getting in the way of good sense. I shake my head. “I’m sorry. It’s not my business.” He tugs me into his embrace and dives into my lips without warning. A surprised whimper escapes me. His warm tongue caresses mine, strokes it like the brush of a cat’s tail across goosebumped skin on a cold night. I’m entombed in his tenderness, his presence, his undeniable light beaming from the darkness he tries to project. My limbs lose solidity and turn to jelly. After months of yearning, needing, pining for him, it’s time to cash in my chips. I surrender. Toombs s me with wiry arms tight around my naked torso. His hard length presses against his pants, and his lips part in a soft smile that ignites my insides. He cradles the back of my head in the crook of his elbow. Our hearts pound together. I lay a hand on his chest, absorb the beats, and close my eyes. So strong. I love him. God. It’s true. He presses his forehead to mine and gazes into my eyes. “I want to bury my cock deep inside you, Jinx. Just the two of us.” Disarmed but eager to jump on that action, I nod. “Just the two of us.” Please, God. Page 43

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey Take me before Rax wakes up. I rub the erection staging a jailbreak in his pants, tracing the faint outlines of his beads and the Prince Albert stud protruding from the tip. I drop to my knees and spring his hard-on free, right into my open mouth. I ride his cock with my tongue, taking him deep in my throat with eager swirls and stretches. I study his handsome face from my lower vantage point and revel in the gasps I elicit from him. I’m making him hot. Not Rax. Me. He tames my hair, cups my chin, and stares into my eyes as I suck him off. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He pulls his dick from my grip and leans down to kiss me again. It’s official. I’m in love with his lips. I think I could go the rest of my life never touching another part of him if I could just keep his mouth. His tenderness overwhelms me. The way he puts his entire body into a kiss reminds me of when he played drums for Killer Dixon. I used to watch him from the side stage. My pussy throbbed, my hips swayed, and my limbs twitched in time to his beats. No part of Toombs was still when he sat behind his kit. He was a whirlwind of smooth, rolling motion. Now is no different. Movement. All about the movement. My nipples harden with the ghost swipe of his T-shirt. He tugs on the piercing through my hood, and I nearly lose my footing. A slow grin creeps across his face. “Are you wet?” I narrow my eyes on his. “Why don’t you see for yourself?” I guide his fingers in and out of the slick folds, smearing liquid sex over my labia and clit. Messy. So deliciously messy. “Sit on my face, Jinx.” His cinnamon breath against my lips is divine. Though the words form a command, they sound more like a request. I inhale long and deep. “Yes.” “Grind your pussy into my mouth…Fucking smother me with it…” His tone turns forceful. Oh God. “Yes.” “I’m gonna tongue fuck you until you scream so loud, the dead will cover their ears.” He exhales down the length of my neck and back up to my ear. I tremble. “Yes, please.” His fingers dip inside me. I hiss. “Then, I’m gonna pound that worn-out cunt until you come again. And again. Until you can’t see straight. Maybe I’ll take your ass too, just for the fuck of it.” With a subtle swivel of his hips, his dick paints a clear line of pre-cum over my belly. I smear it into my skin. Hunger flares, consumes me, blurs my vision. My head tilts back, and I cling to him. I need him like my lungs need air. “Yes,” I moan. “Do it, Toombs. All of it. I just want to be yours. If only for a little while. Make me…yours.” He hefts me up, ing my ass in the chair of his folded arms. My legs wrap around his waist. He turns me toward the bed and launches me onto the mattress. I giggle. Half a second later, he’s on top of me, feasting on my breast and fingering my wetness at lightning speed. The giggles stop abruptly, replaced with hardcore grinding. His lips skip up to mine, he paws my cheek with his free hand, and I’m submerged in the ocean of him. Drowning. Ecstatically so. He draws a glistening digit across his mouth and licks it while targeting me within his sights. I dart out my tongue for a taste, and he smiles as I imbibe too. I’m jonesing for the oral he promised me. I roll him off and push him onto his back. I let go of my fears, straddle his shoulders, and lower myself to his parted lips. His groan vibrates the super-sensitive flesh, and I cry out. I twist a length of my hair into a rope and bite down on it to keep my slutty commentary on Toombs’s cunnilingus mastery to myself. If Rax hears us, he’ll want in on the action. Can’t have him crashing this party. Lifting my butt to give him a different angle, I watch him buried under my muff. He’s all in, hands clamping my thighs in place, flicking the metal through my hood soft and slow one moment, hard and rough the next. He’s a mix of eager-to-please lover and lust-blinded seducer. I never know what to expect from second to second. Kind of like his relationship with Rax. I’m not sure where I stand in the middle of that storm, but at least it now seems I have some role to play. Whipping wind, pelting rain, or a dwelling in the direct path of destruction? I’m guessing the Page 44

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey latter. Hot puffs of air sear my skin, punctuating the sanctity of this intimacy we share. He slaps his palms to my butt cheeks and guides me up, down, left, right, in, and out. His tongue swirls, thrusts, caresses. “I’m gonna come. Toombs, stop.” I grasp the headboard to keep my balance. Endorphins raging, I picture myself pulling a Hulk, ripping the wood from its frame, and lobbing it through the window. God, the high is consuming. Instead of stopping, or even slowing down, he launches another attack with renewed vigor on the mess that used to be my pussy. His mouth, chin, and cheeks are slathered with evidence of me. His lids flutter shut, staccato breaths race. He swipes the puddle between my legs as I grind harder against his face. I gasp when those freshly lubed digits ease inside the other hole and prime my ass. I freeze and stare down at him. His tongue slows to match the new rhythm the fingers lay down. I don’t want to enjoy this. Anal is not my thing, but his strokes—both in front and back—are killing me in the best way. Holy hell. Toombs is tonguing my pussy and fingering my ass. And now, I’m going to come. A slow moan builds as the orgasm sneaks up on me. My head lolls, hair tickles, dancing over my hypersensitive nipples. His tongue beats against my clit in a steady 4/4 rhythm matching the jabs at the back door. Vibrations roll upward from the center of my chest. My hips dance with his face. I fall forward, covering him in shadow, but locking my laser beams on his as the orgasm bounds through me. The release overwhelms, shakes me to my core. I love you, Toombs. I love you…   Silver irises sparkle. He quietly laps up the outpouring of juices like a man dying of thirst. He relaxes his grip, rubs my hips and thighs. Suffering from temporary loss of brain function, I swing off him. His finger slips out of my butt, taking unwanted guilt with it. I wish I hadn’t enjoyed that part so much. I lie beside him and palm his erection, fondling the beads under his skin. I wonder how they’d feel in my ass. God, what am I thinking? I’m thinking about anal, that’s what. Sinner. I turn to his lips for a distraction. Pressing mine against his, I taste myself. So wrong. So right. So bad. So good. “Thank you. You’re…amazing.” “You’re so fucking hot when you come, Jinx.” He glances to his dick. “I almost came with you.” I run my hand along his length and frisk it. “I wish you had. But since you didn’t, what can I do to remedy that situation?” I can’t say it, but I want his cum all over me. I want him to mark me as his. I want to rub it into my skin, lick it, smear it into my wet pussy… But that wouldn’t be safe. “How about I grab the condoms?” I don’t wait for his answer. I hop out of bed and tiptoe into the main room. Rax is still asleep, his naked ass exposed, peeking from the white sheets, dark hair splayed around his head like a demonic halo. I take a few condoms from the box on the table. The bottle of lube taunts me. After a moment’s debate, I snatch it too and return to Toombs. He’s waiting for me near the door. He plucks a packet and launches a pussy-drenching assault on my lips. I melt into him as he struggles to free the rubber from its packaging. Tracing the contours of my mouth with his tongue, he rolls the condom down one-handed and presses the beast to my belly. I toss the lube and extra packets to the bed, stroking him, nipping his lips. He groans. “I love it when you bite me,” he whispers against my teeth. “Do it again.” There’s that same demand inherent in the words, but weakened to a plea by his gentle tone. I grin and lick his bottom lip instead. My breasts graze his chest as I subtly sway on tiptoes. “Fucking tease.” Assuming command of his length, I lift a leg and hook it around the top of his thigh. His eyes narrow, and I ease him into my pussy. The beads on top swipe my clit on the way in, and I shudder as I welcome each one. I’ve died and gone to heaven. I pray the flurry of breaths rushing in and out of my lungs is enough to convince him I need to be mounted to the wall behind me with his studded and pearled dick. ing my weight, he backs me up. Sure enough, my spine impacts the wall with a Page 45

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey crack. He guides my other thigh around him, lifting me off my feet. His arms form a cradle for my butt to rest on while he pounds me. I open as wide as my legs will allow and welcome his rough thrusts, bouncing in the human sex chair. The raised beads lodged under his skin bash my pierced clit, driving it to a frenzy of primal pain-filled pleasure. Even though I came only a few minutes ago, Toombs has me primed and eager for another explosion. “Slow down,” I tell him. “I need to feel every inch of you. Every pearl. One at a time. Slow…” He obliges and seems to rein himself in by pressing another long, sweet kiss to my lips. I’ve never been with a man who puts his entire body, his entire being into a kiss, the way Toombs Badcock does. It’s hard to decide where to focus—the dripping lips downstairs screaming for release, or the hungry lips up top being worshipped like a goddess. Spicy and sweet. What a combination. Toombs seems to have multiple personalities in the bedroom—one designed for love and the other for lust. Half Romeo, half Don Juan. Wonder if that’s how Rax views him too. Probably not. Rax thrives off lust. It’s his motivation for being. He continues feeding my pussy the cock it craves. I’m dizzy. Swooning. Needy. Worked up beyond belief, I recall his earlier vow and venture into rocky territory. “Can we try something?” “Anything, baby.” I hesitate. He stops. “Tell me what you want.” “Take my ass like you said you would.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. I’m such a whore. The corners of his lips bow upward. “You’re serious?” I nod a little too eagerly. He slips out of my pussy and sets me on my feet. “I’ll go slow, baby. Real slow.” I saunter over to the bed, pick up the lube, and squirt a hearty dose of it onto his cock. Oh my God, what the hell am I doing? This thing is huge, and the beads are going to rip me to shreds. I bend over, crushing my breasts to the mattress, ass at attention. “Just do it.” I spread my butt cheeks and bury my face in the rumpled sheets. Let the Catholic guilt devour me later. Right now, I have a man to satisfy. And maybe myself too, if I’m lucky. His lips fall to my back. He drops a few barely there kisses, then his tongue traces a path up my tingling spine. So damn slow. I jerk, urging him to hurry, but he takes his sweet time. My skin is on fire everywhere he touches me. My muscles ache. I squirm. He holds me down, firm but not stifling. Oh, the thrill of defying him. The lure of testing his strength and his will. The temptation of seeing how far my conscience will let me go with him. His tongue stops at my nape where the hairs have staged a protest. His sheathed cock rests on my butt crack, a physical contract guaranteeing illicit things to come. My entire body is a live wire desperate for release. I palm his dick and press it to my hole. Hands caress the backs of my arms, and he leans against me. “Are you sure?” His whisper beside my ear scatters my thoughts, tangles my brain waves. Need consumes me. “God, yes. Do it.” I split my legs a little more, hike up my butt, and welcome him inside. The initial stab elicits a huge gasp as pain courses from my ass up my spine and explodes in a blinding blast behind my eyes. I actually lose my vision for a second, it hurts so bad. I bite my lip, squeeze my lids shut. Shouldn’t have tried to take so much so fast. I slide him out and steal a couple of seconds to regroup. Shit, that was only about two inches. He’s got at least seven more to go. “I can’t…” Toombs backs up, but I grab his arm to keep him in place. “No. Do it again.” I try out my best Domme voice and fail miserably. “I won’t hurt you, Jinx.” He sounds as if he’s trying to convince himself, rather than me. Turning my head to stare at him behind me, I guide him again. Easy, Jinx. Inhale deeply. Let it out. “Push it in slow.” He regards me for a long moment as some hidden, internal battle rages behind his eyes. He paws some hair away from my face, leans over my shoulder, and graces me with another long, lazy kiss. Pressure increases down below, but his lips soothe my fears and ease the tension holding me hostage. God, his mouth. Always his mouth. Our Page 46

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey tongues cross, mingle, explore. More pressure. A pain-filled jerk sneaks past my unwitting muscles. He kisses me through it. My body loosens. One bead in. Breathe.   Two beads. Relax.   Three. God, the pain is an exquisite complement to the pleasure his lips gives me. Impaled halfway down Toombs’s deliciously hot cock, I need a few seconds to find my internal balance. When I open my eyes, he’s staring at me. He rolls onto his back, taking me with him, still speared. Staring at the ceiling, I twist my hips up, then plunge down on him, crying out as the beads rip me. The agony is so intense. I’m not sure I can do this. “Stop.” Fully engaged, he hits the pause button on the butt action and turns his attention to making my pussy wet. He rubs my clit with soft, lazy strokes. My sensory receptors shift from ing only pain to a forbidden mixture of pain and pleasure. In and out his fingers slide while his thumb teases the stud in my hood. He nibbles on my collarbone. I could die a happy woman right now. “How’s that, baby? Better?” He seems genuinely concerned about getting me off. I rock my hips to see if I can accommodate those last two beads. “It’s perfect.” God, he hurts so good. Another bead es the threshold. My teeth clench. One more to go. He lies perfectly still as I use his body as my fulcrum, balancing between extreme pain and pleasure. Down some more. Deeper, deeper his dick drills. The last pearl catches the rim of my hole and disappears inside. There’s still another inch I don’t think I can get to, but aside from that, he’s totally in. The fingers priming my pussy speed up, and I focus on the ecstasy building there. He resumes his thrusts. This is torture I shouldn’t be enjoying. My exhalations are more like gasps. As his thick cock drives in and out, a tear slips down my cheek. I honestly don’t know if it was spawned from the pain, the guilt, or the closeness. Lips kiss my neck, illicit strokes march my pussy toward an orgasm, and his dick stabs my butt repeatedly like Brutus and friends welcoming Caesar to the Senate on the Ides of March. I’m five seconds away from the sluttiest, most delicious orgasm of my life, and Toombs stops. “What’s wrong?” I’m dizzy, breathless again. My head beside his, I thumb his goatee. His face is flushed. He nods toward the door. Rax stands there watching, working his sheathed dick like a peeping Tom with a new girl on his stalker list. Damn it. “Got room for one more?” Rax grins. Reprise “Glad to see you two getting warmed up. Your little wake-up call puts me in the mood for more ass fucking. Jinx, you’re today’s featured dancer on my pole. You okay with that, sweetheart?” He struts to the bed, determination darkening his features. Toombs and I disengage and sit up. He remains silent. I can’t tell if he’s in trouble with Rax for “disobeying” or if he’s just plain ambivalent. Either way, I wish he’d say something. “Do I have a choice?” I say to Rax. Certainly doesn’t feel like it. The endorphin high from the near orgasm is definitely going to get me into more trouble. All my common sense controls are down. All the party switches are fully engaged. All inhibitions have left the building. “You always have a choice. But you might want to ask yourself whether you’ll regret it later if you up a shot at playing the meat in a Rax and Toombs DP sandwich. A lot of women would kill to be standing where you are right now.” He yanks me to my feet and pops my butt with a hard slap. I jump. Tingles roll in waves across my skin. Rax stares accusingly at Toombs for a long moment and then says to me, “We all came Page 47

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey here to fuck. We’ve got a lot of time to fill with lifelong memories. You’d better hop to it, missy, or Toombs gets my cock up his ass again. I get the feeling you don’t like that.” I’ve had it with Rax’s bullshit. I grab his dick and squeeze. “Lube up.” Asshole. Apparent pride fixes the corners of his lips into a Cheshire cat’s grin. While he covers himself with gel, Toombs stands and switches out his condom for a fresh one. I wind my arms around his neck, resume our former standing position, and mount his cock with my pussy. Bouncing up and down, my breasts hopping, hair sailing, I lean into his lips and say, “We’re not finished.” The only answer I get is a near smile. Screw Rax. Toombs is my only concern. The only one I care about getting off. Rax can jerk himself off for all I— A pair of arms slips under mine, and rough, tattooed hands fondle my breasts. Pressure hits my back door, and I have to slow my hip thrusts. I use Toombs’s concerned face as my anchor to help me through the pain, which isn’t nearly as bad with Rax as it was with him. I seriously love those beads, but they hurt. Rax ruffles my hair with his words. “Easy does it, eager beaver.” He pushes his cock halfway in. My lungs grapple with the heated air for oxygen. Toombs has me. He squeezes me a little tighter. Rax pulls back. Goes deeper. Pulls back. Toombs kisses me through it. On the next stab, whatever barrier blocked the direct line to my brain’s pleasure center gets blown to smithereens. Wires cross and transform the barrage of frenetic sensations from painful to intensely erotic. Holy shiiit…   Rax is balls deep. He pauses and drizzles more lube between us. Much better. I close my eyes and listen—feel—our three heartbeats mingle. Two belong here, but one’s out of sync. I don’t want to enjoy Rax’s dick, but my nerve endings have other plans. So, I regain my balance by focusing my senses on Toombs. His angular, rugged face, his macabre tattoos. His warm hands clutching and ing me. His hard, wiry, inked chest flattening my boobs. The combination of his cinnamon gum and heady body soap. That strong, steady organ giving mine a beat to dance to. And his dick pelting my pussy with 101 reasons to come again. I stare into Toombs’s eyes. No judgment there, but no emotion, either. Is he pissed that I jumped on Rax without protest? Shit. I hope I haven’t royally screwed up. I mouth the words, I’m sorry. He shakes his head slightly and leans into my lips for a gentle kiss. Apology accepted? I’m not sure, but it’s pretty obvious from his eager thrusts that he’s not interested in stopping. If he’s not, then I’m not, either. Airtight with two dicks in my holes down below and the lips I want to spend the rest of my life with clamped to my mouth, I surrender to these two bodies once again. A tug-of-war ensues as Rax and Toombs fight for command of me. I concentrate on Toombs’s sultry lips and the cum-inducing cock beads kissing my beaten clit with each slow plunge. Rax’s onslaught on my ass is brutal, but I’ve lost the ability to care. I absorb his shockwaves as I imagine Toombs must have last night. “Her ass is even tighter than her sweet little pink pussy,” Rax says to Toombs. He breaks up our kiss with one of his own—targeted on Toombs. I wrestle to regain my place in this power struggle, hugging Toombs harder. I dig my short nails into his skin and rake, hopefully leaving angry red lines in between his tattoos. Toombs groans into my mouth. “Goddamn it, Jinx.” His speed picks up. Rax slaps my swollen breasts, my ass, and Toombs’s ass. “Fuck yeah, bitch.” Thrust, thrust, thrust. Angrily filling me with that huge tattooed snake dick, Rax has no right to be there. Yet, I can’t turn him away. I’m starting to see why Toombs is so reluctant to fight Rax. There’s an innate charisma about him—a combination of good and bad, lust and anger, right and wrong. I hate him, but in this moment, my ass can’t get enough of him. “Harder,” I say, and I push myself faster, balancing between two willing and eager dicks. Rax bites my shoulder. I smack his thigh. Toombs’s lip curls. He’s jealous. He wants to be hit too, but I can’t do it to him. Rax, I can hit all day long, but not Page 48

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey Toombs. Not the man I love. “Fuck me harder,” I command. Control ebbs out of reach. My own forcefulness scares me. “Fuck me, Toombs. Make my pussy weep.” His grip around my waist tightens, and his pace increases. I feel his and Rax’s cocks meeting in my middle, threatening to knock down that feeble, fleshy wall determined to keep them apart. Rough. Primal. Intense. And so fucking good. Rax’s breaths rattle hard and fast, matching each thrust. “I’m gonna come, Jinx. Where do you want it?” “No, you don’t.” I stop them both, dismount, and rip off their rubbers at the same time. Grabbing them by their cocks, I lead them over to Toombs’s drums. I quickly adjust the height of the snare to waist level. Rax on my left and Toombs on my right, I position them slightly in front of me, and tap their dicks on the drum, one at a time. “Jesus fucking Christ…” Rax’s head tips, and pure bliss ravages his features. “Fuck me, Jinx…Fuck…” Using their dicks as drumsticks, I pound out brand new beats to the sexual rhythm Toombs and I created earlier. I stare at Toombs and ignore Rax’s gibberish. “How does it feel, Toombs?” I snap his cock down hard to accent the upbeat playing in my head and repeat it on every one after. His eyes glaze. “Like goddamn heaven.” He swipes my chin with a thumb and closes his lids. A drum roll ensues, and Rax loses control first. White cum stripes the head of the snare. His knees quake, muscle slacken. I rub his still-firing cock through the mess, slathering it with cream. Jesus, Letty was right. Rax is prolific. The expression of pure abandon on his winsome face should be documented for posterity. Too bad my phone’s not handy. Toombs holds on to his cargo. “Give me more cum. Add yours to Rax’s. Do it, Toombs. Now.” He clenches his teeth, the muscles in his cheek rippling. His brows inch toward each other. “I can’t. Hit my cock harder, Jinx. Bang the fuck out of it.” I let go of Rax, and he stumbles backward into the wall. Good. I don’t need him in my way. Squeezing Toombs’s balls with one hand, I scruff his shaft by the beads on top, and beat it against the drumhead. Bang, bang, bang!   I face him. “You feel that rhythm, Toombs? That’s you and me. Those are our beats. The ones we make together.” I crush his nuts in my palm and kiss him gently. “Fucking Christ…” he mumbles against my lips. “I’m coming. Oh God, Jinx…” Putting some muscle into it, I thrash his cock harder, and he releases a heady stream of white, adding to the puddle of Rax’s cum. “Fuck, fuck, fuck you…” One of the jets overshoots the metal rim of the drum. I fall to my knees and open wide to catch the rest. It’s on my cheek, dripping down my chin, tingling on my taste buds. Toombs is all over my face. And this nice Catholic girl fucking loves it. I clear a path through the cooling cream on the drum with a languid lick and moan. I’ve lost all control of my body and mind. I’m a quivering mound of scattered DNA in desperate need of reassembly. I wish I could remain lost like this for a few days straight. Dropping to the carpet, Rax and Toombs flank me. They dip into the feast too. A finger wriggles into my worn out ass. I don’t even know whose it is. Toombs ladles a tongue full of cum and sears a wet line down my neck to my nipple. He bites the piercing. I could die. I slide to the floor behind the drum kit, legs flopped wide open. Rax parts my pussy with his tongue. Toombs shoves his deflating dick into my mouth. I groan around it and nibble playfully. “Ah, Jinx. I didn’t know you had it in you.” Rax breathes against my clit and tugs the metal stud through the hood with his teeth. “You just made me the happiest man on the planet.” I stare into Toombs’s sated eyes as I suck out the last few droplets of his lust. I nip up and down his length, gumming the beads under his skin, teasing the stud at the end with my teeth. Tension bleeds from his features. He sweeps my cheek. I’m pretty sure in this fleeting moment, he loves me—if only temporarily—as much as I Page 49

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey love him. Rax’s tongue slithers the length of my slit. I grab his head, stroke his long locks. The three of us are one. A writhing ball of licking, sucking, fondling, groping humanity. I am indeed lost. I kiss Toombs while Rax laps at my pussy. Thunder rolls, bringing with it the gift of another orgasm. Toombs’s eyes and lips and hands guide my spirit to an emotional pinnacle while Rax steers my bodily senses toward the peak of the pleasure wave. I embrace them both. This climax is less physically intense than the one Toombs gave me earlier, but no less memorable. Riding on the heels of the drum scene, it’s one that’ll be permanently etched in the annals of my mind. Rax’s finger in my ass slows to an agonizing crawl. I press my studded nipples into Toombs’s chest and sigh heavily as the last surge of sexual bliss ebbs away. I’m in love with one of these men and in lust with the other. Unfortunately, I can’t have Toombs without Rax. Ultimatums The three of us lie in a pile of recovering orgasms beside the drum set for a long time. No one speaks. What the hell can you say after sex like that? When I finally sit up, I’m self-conscious. Not sure why since I’ve shown Toombs and Rax way more than my gynecologist sees at my yearly exams. It’s not like there’s any room for shame between us, yet I wear it like a dirty cloak in serious need of washing. Which reminds me… I look down at myself. Dry white lines from last night transect my belly. A face pat reveals crust on my chin. I’m guessing Toombs’s snare drum could use a quick hose down too, but I’ll leave that to him. On second thought, I’m pretty sure between the three of us, we cleaned the head pretty well. Another wave of embarrassment rolls down, coloring my skin red. Dear. God. I stand. Rax lifts his head. “Where are you going?” I poke a thumb toward the door. “I need a shower.” Toombs follows me with his eyes but doesn’t move otherwise. Rax’s hand rests on Toombs’s limp dick. “You want company?” All traces of teasing have left Rax’s voice. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he almost sounds genuine. Maybe even concerned. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him exhibit an iota of care for anyone but himself. What’s this about? “No, thanks.” Keep your slimy tentacles to yourself. I zip off to the bathroom before he has a chance to reply. While cleaning up under the soothing spray, there’s plenty of time to ponder how I’ve royally screwed both my job and any chances of getting with Toombs on a more intimate level than pure sex. No matter how much we all agreed this was a one-time fling, Killer Buzz Float will never be the same now that I’ve slept with two of my bandmates. How could it be? And worse, where the hell do I stand with Toombs? The sex with Rax was unbelievable, but he’s not the one I want. How do I get Toombs away from controlling, domineering, overbearing Rax? Does Toombs even want to get away? Good question. Judging by the way Toombs lowers his head like a beaten puppy every time Rax so much as looks at him, I’m guessing their relationship is like some of the abusive ones I’ve witnessed before. The Dominant controls everything. The submissive does what he’s told because he— That’s not fair, Jinx. True. I mentally cuff myself on the head. I’ve got to stop thinking this way. Just because I don’t understand Dominance and submission doesn’t give me the right to look down on those who choose that lifestyle. There are probably loads of factors at play here that I know nothing about. It’s pretty obvious Toombs has a great deal of iration for Rax, and yes, love too. That part hurts the most, but I’ll respect their arrangement—whatever it is. I’m the outsider here. They’ve known each other for most of their lives. Ties like that don’t break. Not easily, at least. With a sigh, I throw back the shower curtain and towel off. I should get out of Page 50

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey here. Leave Toombs and Rax to their own devices for the rest of the day and tonight. Maybe a walk will clear my head. I really need to get my brain moving on some new rhythms for the album. Only a few days left. Toombs brought his drums. Does he really think I won’t pull through for the band? He always looks down his nose at me during rehearsals. Judging. Intimidating. Scrutinizing. I wonder if his opinion will change after our romp. No, regardless of what he thinks of me personally, on the professional front, Toombs doesn’t believe in me any more than I believe in myself. Bringing the drums here was his back-up plan. Maybe Jillian put him up to it. That would be just like her. The sad thing is, I can’t even be angry at them. Lots of anger at myself, though. Torn between logic and emotion, I exit the foggy bathroom, steam billowing in my wake. Rax sits on the edge of the big bed, clothed. His long waves are damp, his blue eyes centered on me. He stands and ambles my way. The tinkles of water hitting tile from the second bathroom tell me Toombs must be showering in there. Avoiding Rax’s gaze, I make for the other room to search for my bag. He intercepts me, grasping my elbows, and leans in for a whiff. Eyes closed, he smiles, and then opens them. Why couldn’t he be butt-ugly? “Now that I know your scent, I could pick you out of a room full of people blindfolded. God, you’re sweet, Jinx.” I break free of his gaze but not his grip. “This never happened. ?” He shakes his head. “How about we make it happen again? And again? And again?” “Not good for the band.” He lifts a brow. “But damn good for me.” “What about Toombs? Does his opinion matter?” “His opinion is mine. On every subject, especially the subject of you.” And I’m back to hating Rax. He is why it will never work with Toombs and me. I’ve made a huge mistake. This is such bullshit. “I’m out of here.” I shove Rax aside and break for the bag I spot on the floor near the door. Rax sighs heavily behind me, and the couch hisses as he drops into its cushions. I will not turn around. I will not.   “Goddamn it, I…I like you, Jinx.” Shit. I close my eyes. Pause for a few seconds. I turn even though I swore I wouldn’t. “You don’t know me.” “I want to know you.” He stands and paces. “Why? I’m not like Toombs. You can’t boss me around, telling me what I can or can’t do.” He rubs the angry purple splotch I left under his eye last night. “Exactly why I want you so fucking bad.” Wants me? Oh hell, no. “You want the sex. We did that. Over. Done. Wham bam, thank you, ma’am. I’m ready to go back to being the drummer for this band. Not Rax’s and Toombs’s bandmate with privileges.” He shoots forward into my personal space. “But it won’t be normal again, will it? Because you want Toombs. And maybe me too. Just a little.” I lift my chin in an attempt to appear defiant, but his words ring true. Why am I so sexually attracted to him? Shit, even as I’m staring at him, I have to clench my legs together because I know what’s going to follow. The longer we talk, the hornier I’ll get, and we’ll end up in a ball of arms and legs and genitals rubbing all over each other again. “I only want Toombs. I guess I can’t have him since the two of you are attached at the hip.” “He wouldn’t know what to do with you on his own.” I laugh. “Are you saying he can’t function without you? That’s a little assuming, even for you. Toombs is perfectly capable of handling a relationship on his own. Problem is you won’t let him off the leash long enough to find out.” “He doesn’t love you, Jinx. He loves me.” I wince. The truth hurts. “And where does that leave Rax? How does Rax feel about Toombs?” He doesn’t answer. “You’re a . As long as Toombs has something to offer—whether it’s his mouth on your dick, his guitar to back you up onstage, or his pledge to fulfill your sexual perversions as your third—you’ll keep using him. That’s why I want nothing to do Page 51

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey with you after today.” “What’s up?” Toombs saunters into the room with a white towel tied around his waist. The gun tattoo holstered at his hip glistens with droplets from the shower. If I weren’t so angry, I’d rush over and lick them off. The sight of him makes me weak in the knees. Wanting but not having. At least not in the way I need. “Nothing,” Rax and I say together. I shoot him a disgusted look and snatch clean underwear, jeans, and a T-shirt out of my bag. I return to the bathroom, leaving them to talk about me or suck each other off or whatever. Screw them. Emotions alternating between seething and mourning, I shimmy into my clothes, brush and blow-dry my hair, and slap on some makeup. Soft taps punctuate the wood beside me. I twist the knob and yank it open. Toombs holds out my chiming phone. Shit. My older brother Johnny. What does he want? He never calls me for anything. “Thanks.” I take the device and close the door. “Hey,” I say softly and sit on the closed toilet lid. Johnny grins, the skin around his warm brown eyes crinkling. Reminds me of my dad. “What are you, taking a shit, Gianna?” Leave it to jokester Johnny to make me smile when I’m seething. “No, stupid.” I stand. “Just getting dressed.” “I thought you’d be on the bus, rock star.” Grinning, he smacks his gum loudly. He knows it gets a rise out of me. “No. A friend got me a hotel room for the night. I needed to sleep in a real bed. The bunk is nice, but it’s no good for my back. What’s going on?” “Mom got fired.” My heart climbs up my gullet, pries open my mouth, and pumps out a very loud, “What?” “Yeah.” The light in his face dims by a couple lumens. “What the hell happened?” And why didn’t Mom tell me? My hand shakes so hard, I have to still it with my other one. “Not sure. She ain’t talking to me about it, but I overheard her and Dad. She has two more weeks.” She doesn’t want me to know. She doesn’t want me to worry. I love my mom, but damn. “Did she get in trouble, or did they lay her off like Dad? Is the bank closing?” Wouldn’t be the first time a bank went under in Athens since the economy took a nosedive. “I dunno.” “Is she home? Can I talk to her?” “No.” Damn it, I need some answers. “What do you know, dumb-ass?” “That’s about it.” He pops his gum. Well, shit. “I’ll give her a call later. Is everything okay with you? Did you get a job yet?” He shakes his head, and the dying embers of his playfulness snuff out. “Can’t find dick around here. Dad, neither.” Great. “How’s Mikey?” “All’s I know is he’s working on Beethoven.” “He went to his lesson this week, right?” God, please tell me he’s still going. “Yeah. He’s pissed off ’cause his teacher told him to practice his scales. He says they’re boring.” “He would. Don’t say anything to him about Mom, okay?” Johnny twists an invisible key over pursed lips and throws it over his shoulder. “Ruffle Mikey’s hair for me, will you?” I wish I could do it in person. “You got it, sis.” “Bye, Johnny.” I hit the end button on my phone and pocket it. “Shit.” I snatch open the door and cross the threshold. Toombs blocks my path. “Who was that?” I frown and push past him. “None of your business.” “Boyfriend?” Gross. I stop and shake my head and then spin around to face him. Hands on hips, I say, “My brother.” Page 52

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey Toombs has on a pair of black Dickies cargo pants, complete with bleach splotches, holes, and a wallet chain hanging from his waist to his butt pocket. No shirt. Between the vivid tattoos and the scars taking up huge portions of his dermal real estate, it’s hard to concentrate on his face. I’ve got a sudden urge to hump his leg. Especially with him staring at my lips like he wants to maul them again. God, his lips know how to undo me. Completely. “Everything okay at home?” “Oh, yeah. It’s great.” The sarcasm shines through loud and clear. I don’t mean for it to. Rax wanders over from the couch. Because, of course, I need more drama in my life. I avoid his eyes and focus on Toombs instead. “I’m going back to the bus.” “We’ve got one more night booked here,” Rax says. “You guys have at it. You don’t need me to have fun.” “You promised us two nights.” This comes from Toombs. I’m shocked. And yes, more than a little excited. “I promised one. Shades booked two. I gotta work on some new beats. And I need to talk to Jillian.” Toombs becomes more animated. Almost eager. “Use my drums.” Is he excited that I’m trying to be productive? “I prefer my own.” “I can have them brought over. Me and Rax will leave if you want some quiet.” My gaze hopscotches between them. “That’s okay.” “Stay.” Toombs glides forward, ignoring Rax’s scowl. Or maybe oblivious to it. My insides melt. With one little word, he’s got me hanging by a thread, scrambling for a handhold, swinging over a canyon of sin. And me without my halo and wings for a safety net. Naturally, there’s no place I’d rather be. “I can’t use your drums. They’re personal. It would be like asking to borrow your toothbrush.” “After the three of us broke them in this morning, I don’t think the drums will mind. And neither do I.” Toombs leans in. For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, but he glances at Rax and pulls back. Always damn Rax raining on my Toombs parade. He hangs in the periphery, watching us. Calculating his next snaky move, I’ll bet. “I—I need to clear my head.” Tongue-tied and brain-scrambled, I drop to the floor next to my shoes and put them on. “I’ll be back in a while.” I start to stand. Toombs gives me a hand up, blocking my line of sight to Rax. “I meant what I said. Use my drums.” “I appreciate that.” Afraid to stick around for fear I’ll put my foot in my mouth, I hustle out the door and make for the elevator. On the ride down, I try Mom on her cell phone, but I’m dumped to voicemail. So I text her: When were u gonna tell me u lost ur job? I know she’s trying to protect me, but we’re both too old for this shit. The minute the doors open, I dart out, wander through the lobby, and plant myself in an oversized chair. I dial Jillian. “Jinx,” she says. Not a trace of weariness in her voice. I swear the woman never sleeps. “Hi. I, uh, need to ask you something, and I wonder if you’d mind keeping it between us?” “Of course. And when you’re done, I have a question for you.” Great. “What’s on your mind?” she says. “I was wondering about the contract we signed with Megaphonia. When did they say we’ll get our advance?” “First payment comes when you deliver the bones of the new album. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but they want a demo. Which brings me to my question.” Gulp.   “When am I gonna get my demo? We have guitar, bass, and vocals ready to roll. Alas, no drums. What the hell is going on with you, Jinx? You never had a problem producing for the band before.” Yeah, that was before Toombs and I became bandmates. Before he addled my brain and threw the rest of me out of rhythm. I let out a long sigh. “You want beats, I’ll make them for you. I’ll work out some stuff today.” Page 53

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “You’ve been saying that for weeks, and you have yet to produce anything beyond basic, lame shit even I could regurgitate. Come on, girl, your fans expect complicated, quirky rhythms outta you. They want John Bonham with boobs and better hair. You’re churning out drum tracks with zero emotion, zero groove. If that’s all this band is getting out of you, we can hook up to a fucking drum machine and Milli Vanilli that shit. Or hell, give the drums back to Toombs and let him take up your slack.” My heart trips on a speed bump, skids over ten feet of rocky pavement, and rolls over, covered in gashes. “No. I can do it.” Shit. I hope I can do it. “This is my final warning. Get your ass in gear. You have until we hit New Orleans. If you haven’t got your shit straight by then, I’m giving it to Toombs, and we’ll have to renegotiate the contract not to include you.” She wouldn’t do that to me, would she? No. Surely not. I wait for her to qualify her statement, to apologize, or flat out take it back. She doesn’t. “I understand, Jillian.” Oh my God, I think I’m going to hyperventilate. “Good. Pull your head out of your ass—or Toombs’s ass—and give me my beats.” I flinch. “Okay.” The line clicks dead. I pull the phone from my ear and stare at it. I guess that settles it. It’s back to the penthouse suite to work. Or else. What the hell am I gonna do about my parents? Mikey’s piano lessons aren’t the only things on the line. Now it’s a matter of my family being able to eat. Shit, if I don’t do as Jillian says, we’re all screwed. Snake Attack I return to the suite, dejected, heartbroken, and worst of all, empty of song. I’m a ball of nerves. About Toombs, my family, the music, and Rax. I sorta miss the days when I shyly ired Toombs from afar, beat my drums to vent my frustrations over his apathy, and never dreamed Rax or anyone else would want a piece of me. Obscurity is never more appealing than when you’re under a spotlight. Rax looks up from the guitar on his lap as I enter the room. I lay the key on the bar counter and head for the spare bedroom, hoping my shadow won’t follow. No such luck. And no Toombs to rescue me. Damn it. Well, not that Toombs would rescue me. Only if Rax gave him permission. I slide my fingers over the cold surface of the ride cymbal and steal a peek at the snare drum head the three of us molested earlier. Clean as a policeman’s gun. “I think you bruised my cock.” Rax strides toward me, guitar strapped over his shoulder. He strums a chord and dabbles with a riff. “You deserved it.” I sit on Toombs’s throne. I adjust the height and settle back down, legs spread, feet testing the pedals. “And what I wouldn’t give to be bruised over and over again.” He settles his gaze on my breasts and licks his lips. “Preferably if it involves that tight ass of yours.” Do not get sucked into a sexual conversation with him. You might not like where it ends.   I grab the pair of sticks lying across one of the toms and twirl them between my fingers. “Where’s Toombs?” “Gone.” Not for good, I hope. Rax picks up where he left off on the riff from a moment ago, expands it, doodles notes like an artist with a pencil. Except his instrument produces stunning audio masterpieces instead of visual ones. Well, if you don’t count his striking face as part of the package. Stop it, Jinx.   His fingers halt the sonic dance and stifle the strings with the suddenness of a striking snake. “Toombs said he overheard you talking to your brother.” Shit. He was eavesdropping outside the bathroom door. I tap out a foundation on the bass drum. Steady, hard, unforgiving. “Your mom works at a bank?” “Worked.” “Ah. She lost her job, huh? In this economy, it’s not surprising.” He unwinds the strap, shrugs off the guitar, and sets it upright in the corner. Page 54

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey The hi-hat s in at my left foot’s direction. “I don’t want to talk about my family. I need to work on some music. Do you mind?” “It’s tough all around,” he continues as if I haven’t spoken. He circles me. “What did your mom do? Teller? Loan officer? ant?” I put an abrupt end to my footwork with a crash to the splash cymbal. “Why do you care?” Rax stops right behind me, leans into my ear, and says, “Because my dad owns Rathbone Community Bank in Athens. Maybe I can help you out.” My stomach drops like a bomb. Of course he comes from banker royalty. Because my life is an ironic joke, dying for the last laugh when the out-of-left-field punch line finally arrives. Forever jinxed. Well, I gotta give Rax credit. His stage name of Wrathbone is a clever, if not Gothic, play on his elite-sounding family name. “I don’t need your help.” “So, your mom doesn’t need a new job?” I flatten my lips together. How does Rax always find a way to string me along? He spins me on the stool to face him, and I look away. My disgust for him is starting to outweigh my desire. I view this as a good thing. “How about a little quid pro quo, Jinxie? I’ll talk to my dad about getting your mom a new gig if you give me one night alone with you. Like we did here, but without Toombs.” Not no. Hell fucking no. “I don’t think so.” Absolutely, positively not. I will never do Rax without Toombs. In fact, I never want to repeat what we did with Rax, regardless of how hot it was. I’ve gotta put my foot down. He has to understand. His blue eyes spark with challenge. “What if I sweeten the deal for you? I’ll give you Toombs tonight, in this hotel room. Just the two of you, as I promised before. All you have to do is give me your body for one night when we get to New Orleans. Tell your mom to apply at the bank tomorrow. She’ll have the job the day after. I swear.” I’m almost certain I catch a glimpse of a forked tongue. I resist the overwhelming urge to launch a drumstick right between his eyes. “No.” “What’s the problem? I already fucked you six ways to Saskatchewan. It’s not like we’re dealing with undiscovered country here.” “Yeah, but you miss one crucial point. I don’t like you, Rax.” “You liked me well enough when I pounded your ass this morning. And when you came as I ate your pussy.” He takes the stick from me and glides it over my breast like Letty did on the bus. Then he jams the wood tip to my cheek, forcing me to face him. Oh hell no. I slap the stick away, fast as lightning. “You looking for another shiner to match this one?” I caress the blotch beneath his eye. He smiles. “No. But now I see what Toombs enjoys so much about pain mixed with pleasure. I wouldn’t mind another round with any one of your holes, Jinx.” My phone vibrates from by butt pocket. I stand, give Rax my back, and check the caller ID. Mom. “Excuse me,” I almost spit at Rax and go into the other room. I bring the phone to my ear. “Hey.” “Hey, hon.” Mom sighs. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was going to. I didn’t even realize Johnny knew.” “Geez, Mom. What happened?” I consider sitting down but opt for pacing instead. Too much angry energy. “They can’t afford to keep on all six tellers anymore. I was the last one hired, so I’m the first one to go.” “You’ve worked at that bank for two years. How can they do that to you?” “It’s not the bank’s fault. You can’t pay out more than you bring in.” Head to toe, every t in my body aches for her and Dad. And Mikey. “What’s the plan?” “I’m gonna put in applications and cross my fingers. It’s all I can do. We have to eat.” I close my eyes. “Have you tried Rathbone Community Bank?” I can’t believe I’m going here, but what choice do I have? “That one’s on my list. I’ll pick up applications at a couple of other banks on my lunch break. Don’t worry , Gianna. You’re doing all you can too.” Not all I can. But I guess that’s about to change. I face the bedroom as Rax’s tall frame darkens the door. He leans against the jamb. I feel like a whore. Page 55

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey I am a whore. But even whores have families. And blood is a hell of a lot thicker than my pride. “You feeling better about the band now?” “Yeah,” I lie. “Everything’s fine here.” “Good. I worry about you on the road with those tattooed musicians and crazy fans. I want to see you, but I know how busy you are. Take care of yourself and do what you gotta do. You’ll be home soon enough.” I sure will. One way or another. “Yep.” “I love you, Gianna.” “Love you too. Bye.” Rax unfolds himself from the doorframe and swaggers over. “So touching.” With a mocking grin, he leans in. Too close. I back away, return to the main room, and sit on the couch. “Why are you such an ass?” He plops down beside me. “Just lucky, I guess.” “Which makes me very unlucky.” “Come on, Jinx. Don’t make it weird.” I huff and turn on him. My hair barely misses his chin with the spin. “I’m making it weird? You’re bribing me to have sex with you, knowing full well I want…someone else. That’s messed up. And beyond assholey.” “I love it when you talk dirty.” He scoots closer. “Give me more.” “What’s the allure? Do you get off on humiliating your victims?” He treats his groupies like total shit. This is my best working theory. “You said it yourself. I’m an asshole. And I get what I want. Right now, you’re the object of my affection. If I have to bribe you into my bed, I’ll do it. And I’ll have no regrets about it.” “So, you have no conscience.” “Not really.” “How long do you think you can hide your cheating from Toombs? Wouldn’t it be easier to come clean? Doesn’t the mountain of lies you’ve created…bother you? Toombs loves you, for God’s sake. That means nothing?” Now I’m pissed. Not for myself, because I make my own damn choices, and I’ll live with them, but for Toombs, who doesn’t even know he’s being screwed. He’s in love with a guy who’s only interested in using him to snag his next score. “I can’t tell Toombs about you because…” “Because what?” “Because I want you for myself.” My hands shake in my lap, and I venture a look at his face. All pretense is gone. The smart-aleck wise guy has left the premises. The man he left behind is kinder. Maybe even genuine. “You Jacksonville? The stripper I met at the club there—Lola? She had this crazy energy about her, like an aura or some shit. I swear to God, it called to me. Anything like that ever happen to you? An instant connection?” I nod. Toombs. The first time we shared the same oxygen in Jillian’s living room. I’d seen him before at some gigs in Athens, but I’d never been so close for so long. He scared the living hell out of me, but that power—charisma or whatever it was—sucked me dry. I felt weak when he left the room. He literally stole my voice. “Well, I became obsessed with Lola. Couldn’t get her out of my head. Dreamed of her every night. Tried to find her online. A fucking stripper I met once while I was totally shit-faced. I never even fucked her. It was ridiculous. But I couldn’t help how I felt about her. She was so real, so perfect to me. “When I realized I was probably never gonna see her again—and even if I did, she’d want nothing to do with me—a part of me fucking died. It was incapacitating. Like losing a limb and trying to figure out how to go on without it.” I that time. Rax sank into a deep depression for a few days. Toombs was really worried. Rax hardly talked to anyone. Rarely came out of his bunk except to play gigs, and then disappeared again as soon as the show was done. Luckily, it didn’t last long. I chalked it up to Rax’s brush with death at the hands of alcohol poisoning. Figured the realization of his mortality had finally set in and scared the bejesus out of him. Guess I was wrong. “After that shit went down, I vowed I’d never let another woman have that kind of control over me again. So, back I went to my old ways. Fucking groupies. Not giving a shit about anyone. Page 56

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “Until the day you walked in on Toombs and me on the bus. When you found us jerking each other off, the expression on your face—fallen, hurt, damaged—grabbed me by the balls and twisted. I saw the longing in your eyes, the crease of your brow, the tenseness in the clench of your jaw. I saw your devotion. To Toombs.” Rax jabs his chest. “I want that devotion. I want to be loved the way you love him.” My mind whirls with jealousy and outrage. “Don’t you get it? You are loved that way. Toombs feels the same about you. It’s plain as day.” His pupils flare with a quick black burst as he springs into kissing range of my lips. “I. Want. You.” You can’t have me. At least not my heart.   I harden my expression as best I can, but inside, I’m crumbling. At my choices, my future, my impending tragedy. “You want me? Fine. You can have my body for one night only. After that, I strongly suggest you talk to Toombs about your…situation. Once we’re done, this ends. All of it. I’m doing this for my family, not as a favor to you.” Eagerness floods his features. “Deal. Toombs is yours tonight. The job is your mom’s tomorrow, and you’re mine when we get settled in New Orleans.” “And then it’s over,” I reiterate. There can be no confusion on this matter. “If that’s what you want.” Back to being good old smug Rax. Not at all what I want, but I have to help my family and put a stop to Rax’s ridiculous, misplaced affections. This arrangement is the only way I see to do it. What an ironic clusterfuck. Toombs loves Rax, Rax loves me, and I love Toombs. And none of us has enough sense to run away from the burning building before the flaming rafters crush us all. Verse Two Later that night, after our second show in Baton Rouge, Rax, Toombs, and I return to the suite. Attempting to clear my head, I take a long shower and spend thirty minutes drying my hair. I don flannel pajamas. They might be the only comfort I get tonight. Everything’s fucked. The band was off earlier, mostly because of me. The rhythms in my head and chest didn’t jive. When your drummer’s out of sync, everyone’s out of sync. Letty texted me for details about the sex romp since the guys were all there and we had no privacy for a face-to-face chat. I’m kind of grateful I couldn’t talk to her. I just said we’d talk later. Toombs and Rax speak in hushed voices in the living area while I halfheartedly hit the skins in search of a new song that doesn’t exist. I don’t want to hear them discuss my future. And I can’t stand the thought of Rax lying to Toombs by omission. We have a secret rendezvous planned without him, something Rax is apparently not averse to doing with others, either, if Letty’s declaration is accurate. A truth I’ll have to conceal as well. My stomach clenches into a hard knot. I can’t lie to Toombs. Just can’t. I care about him too much. This rhythm sucks. I toss aside the drumsticks and flip the hair out of my eyes. Lately, I can’t do anything right. Not the drums. Not Toombs. Not even stupid Rax. The guys come into the room. “I’m heading out.” Rax’s eyes bore into mine with a clear message: We have a deal. Don’t fuck it up. “Okay.” My voice is small, defeated. I avoid Toombs’s gaze and round them both. Destination: the bar. Rax says nothing else, but I hear the door close as I rummage through the liquor bottles for something to calm me. “Thirsty?” Toombs leans against the wall. Now I face him. “Nervous.” How come it’s so easy to tell him the truth about my fears, but so hard to be honest about cheating on him with Rax? Because that’s what it is. Cheating. Toombs and I might not be an exclusive couple, but my heart belongs to him, even if he doesn’t realize it. That makes me lower than dirt. He folds his arms over his chest. “I scare you.” “No. I scare myself.” Screw the liquor. I don’t need it. I leave the comfort of the bar in favor of Toombs’s shadow and lay my shaking hands on my hips. I hate confrontation, though I don’t seem to have a problem confronting Rax or Page 57

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey calling him out on his bullshit. But it’s really hard for me to say what I need to say to the people who matter the most: Toombs, my family, Letty, Jillian. I fear disappointing them. Or maybe losing them. I’m gonna lose Toombs anyway, so I guess it’s time to grow a thicker skin where he’s concerned. “I need to know where I stand with you, Toombs.” He straightens. A long stretch of silence fills the space between us. I swallow hard. He lifts a length of my hair to his nose and inhales as if smelling a flower. His eyes drift shut. Then he drops it and looks at me. Raw. Rugged. Arresting. “I don’t know.” “Not the answer I’d hoped for.” I turn away, but he stops me. I sigh. “I get it. You’ve known Rax forever. He’s safe and easy. You don’t have to get your hands dirty because he calls the shots.” Okay, that was a low blow, even though it’s true. His eyes narrow. He leans in and squares his shoulders, dwarfing me. “I can be myself around Rax.” Is he insinuating he can’t be himself around me? That one cuts to the quick. I was hoping he’d it Rax stifles him. “Oh? Who’s that, then?” “A drummer. Like you.” Fueled by frustration, I lash out. “You’re not a drummer. You’re a guitarist. Like Rax.” His lip twitches. “Drummers are leaders. Not followers.” Inside, I’m shaking. A hand shoots out and catches me just under the chin, soft but firm. He herds me to the wall and pins me there. My pulse rockets from zero to sixty in .34 seconds. “Then when do you plan to step up to the plate, Jinx? The band depends on you, and you’ve fucked around for a month. Now shit’s starting to fall apart onstage. What happened at the gig tonight?” I grind my molars and shove him aside. Hot words spew like lava from my mouth. “I don’t know. Maybe if I wasn’t so fucked up on you, I could pull a Mary Poppins, wave my sticks like magic wands, and make some music appear out of nowhere. As it is, I get to watch you submit to Rax’s whims over and over, day in, day out, without a single thought or care for anyone but him. “You wanna know why I can’t lay any drum tracks? It’s because I’m heartbroken. It’s because I want things I’ll never have. It’s because I—” love someone who doesn’t love me back, “because I’m a stupid dreamer living in a harsh reality that blocks my every move.” My shoulders heave. My lungs labor. I wipe away the stupid tear that snuck down my cheek while I was in the throes of my self-indulgent hissy fit. He looses his body on mine like an animal freed from a cage, nailing me to the wall, and kisses me hard. All my angry energy transforms into limp submission in the blink of an eye as I succumb to the storm that is Toombs. I scramble for a foothold in the swirl of insanity, and then think better of it. Let it go, Gianna. Let him take you away from the mess of your life for a couple hours. Deal with the consequences later.   “Rax isn’t here now.” His delicious cinnamon breath and the lingering taste of him on my tongue make me lick my lips. More. God, please give me more. “It’s you and me. No one else will know what we say or do for the next few hours, so let’s make every second count.” I stroke his rough cheek and resist the urge to blab the three words pogoing through the chambers of my heart like kids in a bouncy castle. “I’m yours. Anything you want from me.” A pleased smile spreads across his features. “I was hoping you’d say that.” There’s something very catlike about the angular lines of his face, the subtle upsweep at the corners of his eyes, the purse of his lips. I trace the gash tattoo with the tip of my finger and follow it with a long, slow lick. The stubble from an hours-ago shave abrades my taste buds to the brink of discomfort, but that threshold isn’t crossed. His hand drifts to my breast; the heel of his palm grinds the soft flesh and hard metal. There’s the pain that tells me I’m alive. With him. About to be claimed. He shoves my pajama top over my head, twisting the tangle of fabric to pin my arms Page 58

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey to the wall above me. I’m helpless to fight him and not at all interested in doing so anyway. He bites a nipple stud and lifts the mound of my breast with it, flicking his tongue over the stiff bud. Warmth floods the empty space between my legs. God, the sweet agony. The pleasure. I want more of both. I can’t move my hands, so I hook a leg around his thigh and grind against the hard dick trapped inside his cargoes. He releases my arms but holds on tight to the nipple. I wrestle my top off and toss it to the carpet. “I want to fuck you,” I whisper into his hair as he suckles. “We have other business first.” One more tongue stroke on my burning nipple, and he returns to my mouth for another round of panty-ruining kisses. My head swims in a sea of sex-crazed yearning. Twisting my arms around his neck, I flap up my lashes. “My underwear’s soaked. I think I need to take it off.” “Keep it on.” His voice is gruff. I pout. “But my…pussy is lonely. She needs companionship.” He slips down the front of my pajama pants and wrenches my panties into a knot. I gasp as the cotton splits me, and then revert to a puddle as he gently wiggles it against my clit ring. “We have plenty of time. Come with me.” I’d love to. Pretty sure I could come on command if he said the right words. He leads me by the makeshift panty leash into the spare bedroom, my feet stumbling along in torturous pleasure. Each step rubs the tangled rope of underwear on my piercing. The sheer rapture of this moment with Toombs, his dark, erotic energy, and the forbidden intimacy between us leaves me lightheaded. If loving this—loving him—is wrong, send me straight to hell with a one-way ticket. I’d gladly pay the price to share this time with him. By the time he lets go, I’m panting. And drooling, apparently. I wipe my mouth. Good God. He unzips his fly. The black pants drop to the floor. He pushes his boxer briefs down and kicks them aside, his feet still bare from his own shower. The shirt comes off, and there’s my beautiful Toombs, naked beside his drum set. What a damn sight. His tattoos begged to be stroked. His dick points at me as if to say, “You’re next.” His soft gaze cradles me. My pussy flips over the “Yes, we’re open!” sign. He kneels before me, staring up like a worshipper at a sacred shrine from days long past. Shouldn’t this be the other way around? Doesn’t feel right to look down on him. I smooth his short tufts of hair. He peels my pants off way too slowly. I wiggle my hips to hurry him along, but he wants nothing of it. His lips follow the flannel on its agonizing descent, dropping kisses, leaving trails of wet warmth, driving me mad with anticipation. My rubbing on his head picks up speed, and I fist his short locks. God, hurry. I can’t wait another second to be naked with you. He smiles, so pleased. Or maybe he enjoyed the hair pulling. I tighten my grip a tad to test that theory. A tiny clench in his cheek, and the smile broadens. His lips alight just below my belly button, pressing a languid kiss there. Fingers buried in his hair, I hug his head to my stomach. Our pulses throb in sync. We hold the pose for a long moment, his scarred, tattooed, supplicated form clasping the backs of my thighs. He makes me feel like a queen. I’ll him like this until the day I die. God, how I love this man. He angles his face upward. “Play with me, Jinx.” My spirit soars. I pull him to his feet. “Gladly.” I eyeball the bed, but he marches me toward the drums. Taking his seat on the throne, he tugs me into the space before him. Not really enough room for two, but with the promise of a thick cock wedged between him and my butt, I’ll find a way to make do. Holding me around the waist, he gently parts my legs. Lifts the right thigh and places my foot on the bass pedal. Positions the left one on the hi-hat pedal. His fingers slip inside me. A rush of liquid heat greets him. I lean back into him, arm twined around his nape, exposed, eager for more. I ride those digits, savoring his exhalations tickling my ear, the warm length of him resting on the crack of my ass. Reverse cowgirl on a drum throne with the hottest man I’ve ever laid eyes on? Yes, please, and thank you. But aside from the fingers rousing my desire, he makes no move to enter me. They stop, and something cool and hard replaces them. The butt-end of a drumstick slides up and down, teasing my clit and the metal through it. A slow and steady 4/4 Page 59

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey rhythm emerges. A deep exhale leaves my lungs. When his lips alight just south of my ear, I’m done for. Tender kisses on my throat form quarter notes. Goosebumps pop up in protest. His bare foot scoots over mine, depresses the pedal, and together we make bass beats. My hips rock, riding the twin poles of the stick urging my pussy to climax and his cock politely waiting for an invitation into the back door. Come on in.   “Are we gonna do this, or what?” My words are more air than voice. It’s his fault for turning me into this smoldering pile of sin. “You said you’d play with me.” “I have something else in mind.” I reach behind and fondle the pearls along the top of his dick. “Why don’t you play while I suck?” He shakes his head. “I’m trying to help you find your groove, Jinx. For the band. For us.” I freeze. “What do you mean, ‘for us’?” “Never mind.” He pulls the drumstick away and swings his leg off the stool. All the emotion, the tenderness is gone. The moment is ruined. Damn it. “No. You can’t walk away like that. What ?” His erection loses some of its vigor as if weighed down by the sudden serious turn of conversation. the freaking club, buddy. Toombs stares at me, defiance rolling off him in tangible waves. I tune into his heartbeat. It’s running a marathon, competing with mine. “Fine. If you won’t talk, I will.” Oh God, Gianna, please don’t screw this up. I inhale deeply, but it does nothing to calm me. “I…I really like you, Toombs. But I respect your relationship with Rax. Tonight was meant to be my last stand with you. I planned to give you back to Rax when we finished, even though it”—kills me—“hurts to let you go. I know love when I see it, and you two definitely have it for one another. I can’t come between that.” “You already have.” “What?” He stomps away and paces like an angry tiger in a cage. “Come on, Jinx. You know how I feel about you. Don’t make me say it.” My jaw drops. “No, I really don’t. You confuse the hell out of me. One minute you’re all over me, the next, Rax shows up, bosses you around, and you’re back to being his bitch.” He snaps his head up and targets me. Oh shit. I’m officially prey to a very pissed-off tiger. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” I dip my chin and bite my thumbnail. Yep, now I’ve done it. “I should go.” I make for the door. “Yeah, go. Run away from me like you always do. Run away from the band while you’re at it.” A cymbal crashes behind me. I jump and face him. He hasn’t a clue what’s going on in my life right now. If I were a lesser, vindictive person, I’d spill everything about Rax and his infidelity so I could have Toombs for myself. But Rax was right. I won’t tell because it would kill Toombs. And despite how angry I am now, I love him too much to hurt him. That job belongs to Rax. As long as Rax controls the information flow, nothing will change. Rax holds all the cards. In life and in love, it seems. “You’re right. Maybe I am running away from the band. I’ll it it’s been a real struggle for me to work on the new album. But I’d never run away from you. At least not out of spite or for selfish reasons.” The rush of emotion scoops me up by the scruff and shakes. No stopping me now. My soul’s secrets are about to become public property. “The truth is, I’m jealous of what you and Rax have. When you’re together, I see more than just sex. I see intimacy and devotion. I wish you felt that way about me.” I slap a flattened palm to my chest. He snaps his eyes to mine, and his Adam’s apple bobs over an audible swallow. “I do feel that way about you.” His voice strains. What? My heart flutters inside its bony cage. Elated, but still entrapped by forces beyond my control. “About both of you.” Clarification is a bitch. I bite my lip as I ride the anchor down to the bottom of this sea of fuckery. “I Page 60

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey can’t share you. I’m just not built that way. I’m sorry, Toombs.” He sits on the bed and looks at his hands in his lap. The hurt expression on his face tames the tattoos and piercings. He almost looks apologetic. “Jefferson.” Amid wanton body quakes and racing thoughts, I scrounge enough resolve to cool my jets and say, “What?” “It’s my real name. Jefferson Toombs. Descendant of Robert Augustus Toombs. The guy they named the county after.” The ice crystals in my chest melt and bleed away once again. How does this guy make me hot one minute, furious the next, then leave me soft as lamb’s wool in the end? At least we’re talking. “You’re kidding. Wasn’t he a bigwig in the Confederacy?” “Yeah. He was a total fucking racist. Not proud of that, but you can’t return your family for a refund.” “No, you can’t. I guess I got pretty lucky.” I sit next to him. Feels weird to discuss serious stuff while we’re both naked, and he just stuck a drumstick up my pussy. But it’s also kind of nice. “I’m Gianna Donato.” “Gianna.” He looks sideways at me. I’m not sure which gets me more: hearing him say my real name or seeing the soft, genuine glance that comes with it. “That’s really pretty. Italian?” “My dad is. Mom’s a Southern mutt. She’s where I got the Hardwick from. It’s easier to pronounce than Donato.” “Why Jinx?” “Why Badcock?” I smile. “Wait, don’t answer that.” He laughs. Ice cracks. Jefferson. “I don’t think your cock is bad at all, by the way.” I glance down. He blows me off with a shake of his head and awkwardly takes my hand. “Don’t shut me out, Gianna. I…care about Rax. But…Shit. I care about you just as much. Maybe more. Please don’t close the door on me.” His face is at war with his words. He meets my eyes. A fresh flood of tears gathers in mine, but his are steady and strong enough for the both of us. I stretch up and kiss him. Not with ion or lust but with all the love I can tap from the overflowing well inside me. As long as Rax is a part of our equation, I can’t verbally it my deepest feelings. Speaking the words gives them life—permanency neither of us is ready for. But my body can speak on my soul’s behalf. If Toombs happens to translate its cryptic, primitive language into meaning, so be it. “The first time we did it, I didn’t like watching you with Rax,” he says. “The second time fucking pissed me off.” I know how he feels. “And when he took your ass…” Toombs shakes his head and shifts his gaze away. I thumb the hairs of his goatee, coaxing his attention back to me. “Whose eyes did I stare into when I came?” He sighs. “Mine.” “The only ones that matter.” I nudge my lips into his, and he accepts my kiss with a slow blink. “You don’t like him.” I can’t insult Toombs’s best friend and lover, so I evade a direct answer. “Rax isn’t the guy for me.” I follow up with the truth. “I can’t be what he is to you. He’s Dom to your sub. Sadist to your masochist. That whole thing…I just don’t get it.” I wish I did. “You seem like a fast learner.” He flashes a shy smile. I laugh. “Jefferson Toombs, are you flirting with me?” “Jeff. Or Toombs. And maybe.” He looks away like an embarrassed schoolboy. My pulse pounds so hard, I can hear it. “For the band’s sake, we can’t see each other any more after tonight.” His eyes protest, but his mouth doesn’t back them up. Resignation. Also a bitch. I need so badly to have sex with him before we go our separate ways, but I’m afraid the intimacy might change my mind. Without Rax here to get in our way, I’m pretty sure I’d latch onto Toombs and never let go. “Tell me what you want from me, Gianna, and I’ll give it to you.” The resolve in the hard set of his jaw doesn’t match the hesitancy hiding in the lines of his face. I want you to kick Rax to the curb. I want you to throw me down and take me like I’m the last woman on Earth. I want you to scream at the top of your lungs that you love Page 61

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey me.   A chill es over my skin. I wrap my arms around myself. “I want you to hold me.” Without missing a beat, he pulls me into his tattooed embrace, smoothes my hair, and curls his fingers under my chin so I have a clear view through the windows of his eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear his body was telling me he loved me too. Chorus Two February 25 – Baton Rouge, Louisiana I wake up with Toombs curled around me. Protective. Loving. This is no ordinary morning after. I’m alone with him. Last night wasn’t the nonstop sexfest I expected. What I got was better. We didn’t talk much, and I’m okay with that. I tuned into his heartbeat, absorbed his organic rhythms, savored the feel of him down the length of my back. So much better than sex. And this memory of waking up with him—just the two of us—will stay with me forever. I trace the intermingling colors and lines of flayed skin—embedded ink and faded scars—on the arm around my middle. I wonder what the tattoo needle feels like. “Why don’t you have any?” Toombs’s voice behind me is rough from the night’s disuse. I startle. “Didn’t know you were awake.” “I’ve been watching you sleep for an hour.” Why’d he have to go and say that right before I have to tell him goodbye? “You must’ve been bored out of your head.” The bed sheets rustle, and he takes a long length of hair from above my ear. He carefully separates the strands into three sections. “Not bored. You’re peaceful when you sleep. Don’t have that dark cloud hanging over your head.” I try to turn, but he stops me. “Be still.” More tugs on my hair. “What are you doing?” I reach back. He pushes my hand away. “You didn’t answer my question. Why no tattoos?” he says. His fingers weave, and the bed shifts with his motions. He’s braiding my hair. Toombs Badcock is braiding my flipping hair. I could seriously die. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted my ‘rebellion’ to be a little more private, so I went for piercings instead.” “The types and placement of yours tell me you have a wild streak you don’t want anyone to know about. Except maybe for the few people you let inside that big old wall you got up.” He fidgets some more. “Are you a psych major or something?” “No. I’ve just watched enough people to know what makes them tick. You’re the perfect example of the virgin and the whore. Every guy’s dream.” He finishes his work, ties the end of my new braid into a knot, and places it in my open palm. The knot doesn’t hold. I pinch the end, but an inch of hair unwinds before I can stop it. I wish I could pour shellac over Toombs’s work so I’d have it as a reminder of him forever. I turn in his arms and lay my free hand on his bare shoulder. The other holds on tight to the braid. God, he’s gorgeous. His sleepy eyes are for only me. His normally hard edges are soft in the early morning light. It hurts to look at him, knowing this is our goodbye. I can’t share him with Rax, and they’ve got too much history to ever let go of each other. And I can’t have a relationship with Toombs after making good on my deal with Rax. I won’t live a lie. Hiding the facts under a blanket of silence isn’t an option if I’m going to commit. It’s the truth or nothing. “I’m no virgin, and I don’t think I’m a whore. Maybe you know something I don’t?” He strokes my pale skin, his touch setting it alight. “You’re unspoiled by ink. Pure yet penetrated. Takes balls to get nipple and clit piercings.” I don’t think so. It’s just who I am to me. “What about you? You have pearls and a Prince Albert and loads of tattoos. Why beads?” “For pleasure.” “I’d have thought they would be painful.” I swipe my thumb across his semihard dick, rubbing the raised spots over the top of his growing shaft. “Pain is pleasure to me.” “Does it feel that good?” “You tell me.” Page 62

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey Ah, so he got the beads not for his own pleasure, but for his partners’. “You’ve made a lot of people happy, then.” His cock is fully erect. I could have him one more time. Alone. “Just one of them matters right now.” He stares at my lips. “Are you happy, Gianna?” “Yes.” If only for the moment. “Jillian’s gonna kick you out of the band,” he says. My blood runs cold. I sit up and twist the braid around my finger until the tip turns purple. Why does he keep bringing up the band? I’m sick to death of the constant reminders of my shortcomings. I flip the covers back and swing my feet to the floor. He grabs my arm and sits too. “When are you gonna face the facts?” “When are you gonna leave me the hell alone about the damn band? Is that all you care about?” Anger sears my words. I wrench free of his grip, stand, and snap up the pajamas lying on the floor. He rests his elbows on his bent knees under the sheet. “If that’s what it takes to kick your ass into gear, then yes. The band is all I care about. Get off your ass, Gianna. People depend on you, and I don’t mean just us. What about our fans? What about the girls who come to our shows and look up to you as a role model? What’s the fucking hang-up?” I spin to face him, my hair fanning around me in a furious yellow umbrella. I point at him. “You wanna know what’s wrong with me? You’re wrong with me. Every time I turn around, there you are. Watching. ing silent judgment. I’ll never live up to your greatness. I’ll never be you, Toombs Badcock.” He bounds off the mattress, gets up close and personal, and squares his shoulders a foot from me. “Goddamn right, you won’t. Because you’re Jinx fucking Hardwick. You’re not me. You’re better than me. And you’re not John Bonham, or Danny Carey, or Neil Peart, so stop trying to be them. “We’ve been on tour for months together. When we sit down to write, I watch you agonize over every beat, every rhythm. You listen to your idols and try to copy them. Your problem is you want to be everybody but yourself. We’re about to hit the big time. That mimicry shit don’t fly, babe. Killer Buzz Float needs its own sound. Not a Zeppelin rip-off. I need you to be your fucking self.” “I am—” “Bullshit.” He stomps over to the kit, grabs a pair of sticks and shoves them in my hands. “This is who you are. Stop worrying about everyone else, and be Jinx Hardwick.” His nostrils flare, his pupils devour the silver of his irises, and his pulse rages in my ears. I look down. The braid has completely unraveled despite my efforts to save it. The drumsticks are cold and unforgiving, just like Toombs right now. He’s pissed at me, with good reason. I can’t be Jinx Hardwick when the Donatos suffer back home in Athens. And I can’t be Gianna when my bandmates depend on me. I haven’t a clue who I am or how to be me. But one thing is certain. I can’t have Toombs regardless of my identity. “Okay. I know what I have to do.” All too fucking well. I lay the sticks on the head of the snare, gather my belongings, and get dressed. All the life dissipates from Toombs’s expression. He’s shut down too. Just as well. After I make good on my sex deal with Rax, I’ll be done with them both. I meet Letty on the bus at noon. I’m not sure where the guys are. Toombs was packing up his drums as I walked out of the hotel. There was no further dialogue. No more accusations. No more warmth. He cut me off cold turkey, and I don’t blame him. The message was clear: Pull it together for the band. I’m left wondering if our entire interlude at the hotel was just a ploy to get me to write some music. Maybe it had nothing at all to do with us. “What the motherfucking fuck did you do to Rax, you hot little fox?” Letty lifts her hand for a high five. I hit it numbly. “Dude has a black eye and a big fucking grin on his face. You must’ve given him the ride of a lifetime. I need details.” I shake my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “What? You can’t leave me hanging like this. Man, I’m about to bust a nut just thinking about what the three of you got up to. Did you take pictures? Video? How were they? What does Toombs’s cock look like? Does it bear the number of the Beast? I’ve heard he’s given women near-death experiences with that wang.” Page 63

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey I wave her off and drag my bag to my trundle. She follows. “You punched Rax in the face, didn’t you?” She grins like an idiot, nodding, pride illuminating her eyes. I face her. “Yeah. I punched him. He deserved it. And I’d like to punch him again and again and again. But I won’t. Once tonight’s over, so are we.” Letty does a full body shake like a dog after a bath. “Wait, what’s tonight?” Shit. Stupid big mouth. “Nothing.” I empty my clothes into the trundle and slam it shut. Next stop is the bathroom. Letty rides my heels. “No, no, no, Jinx. Stop. What the fuck is going on? Did Rax do something to you? He didn’t…force himself on you, did he?” Her eyes are wide. Concerned. “No.” Not really. But kind of. “I…” I toss my toiletries onto the couch and rub my eyes. “I can’t get into the details, but I promised Rax I’d give him one night when we hit New Orleans. I just want to do what I have to do and move on.” “That’s some kind of fucked-up shit you got going on.” She studies me for a long moment as if waiting for me to elaborate. I don’t. “As long as you’re okay with it.” “Yep. I’m okay,” I lie. “So…there’s no hope for you and Toombs, then? You two make the cutest couple. Surely, you can work it out.” Disappointment weighs down her raspy voice. I can’t look at her. I shake my head. Maybe one day I’ll tell her this insane story, but the wounds are too fresh, too painful right now. “Well, if you change your mind, there’s always steps eight and nine: sext him hard, and let him know what he’s missing when you’re not around. Guys love a good sext session. Gives ’em something to look forward to.” No texts from me. And as long as Toombs has Rax, anything I’m doing is irrelevant. Jillian climbs aboard with the guys flanking her. Clunking ensues from somewhere behind the bus. Freddie must be loading Toombs’s drums into the trailer. I lower my head and move aside to let Toombs and Rax . Neither says anything. Shades and Jillian pull up beside Letty and me. “It’s about an hour and a half to New Orleans,” Jillian says. “We’ll be there around 2:00. Freddie’s going to drop you guys off at your temporary digs in the Quarter so you can decompress before the show tonight. Megaphonia has us set up in a six-bedroom antebellum courtyard house. When you see this place, you’re gonna shit yourselves. Plenty of room to spread out and every amenity—all a block away from Bourbon Street. And it’s just a streetcar ride from the studio. You’ll be kings and queens for a couple weeks.” Letty’s face lights up, and she turns to Shades. “Holy fucking hell, we’re gonna shack up, baby. Just think, we can fuck in a reallive bed any time we want.” “That’ll be the life, pussycat.” Shades grins, fists the front of Letty’s shirt, and puts her in a heavy lip lock. Letty practically dissolves under his grip. Jillian curls her lip, waves them off, and heads for the coffee pot. I turn away. Great. The same house. At least we’ll have separate bedrooms. I have a feeling I’ll be spending most of my free time alone in mine. Assuming I still have a job when we arrive. My phone vibrates against my butt cheek. I pull it out. A text from Mom: U won’t believe this. Just got a call from Rathbone Bank. New job starts next week. Finally caught a lucky break. Details later. I love u.   A chill zaps my spine and cracks its way up to electrify the hairs on my nape. I guess the blood is dry on the contract I signed with the devil. I climb into my bunk. Just before snapping the curtain shut, I catch Rax’s eye. His knowing grin tells me he’s ready to collect on our deal. Step Eight: Sext Him Hard February 25 – New Orleans, Louisiana Eyes wide, I stand before the haunting, magnificent old house juxtaposed on the dirty streets of New Orleans. Adrenaline spiking, I pat the ancient bricks to ensure the place is real and not a figment of my imagination. Yep. Totally real. Wow. This is the most gorgeous piece of architecture I’ve ever seen. Built in the 1870s, the home is a perfect fusion of past and present: wrought iron gates and railings, columns, planters overflowing with fragrant, bright flowers. And if the front of the house isn’t breathtaking enough, the inside blows my mind. The six of us wander through the huge foyer and spread out over the polished Page 64

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey hardwood floors and Persian runners. The front parlor greets me on the left. Done up in Greek revival style, this room boasts marble columns with white and blue walls. The formal dining room with golden candelabras, delicate china, and wall tapestries sits to the right of the entrance. A red-carpeted staircase stretches up to the second floor and dumps visitors onto a wide landing overlooking the downstairs. Each of the bedrooms upstairs has a different color scheme, but the old Southern style holds throughout. High ceilings and doors, four-poster beds with mosquito netting, elaborate crown molding, fireplaces in most rooms, huge gilded frames featuring local art, naked wooden rafters, stained glass windows, ceiling fans spinning lazily, crystal-stringed chandeliers. This place is a dream come true. Letty and Shades chase each other through the hallways, laughing and stopping every few seconds for quick make-out and blatant groping sessions. I head for the smallest bedroom, which is actually huge, and claim it as mine. Yellow walls, lovely floral paintings, a full-sized bed with a carved wooden headboard in Rococo style, an immaculate brocade comforter that matches the heavy golden drapery over the windows. Feeling totally out of place, I unload my meager belongings into the chest of drawers. At least there’s a washing machine here. My clothes are in serious need of cleaning. Another vibration from my phone. I lay it on the dresser. Rax. Of course. Any word from ur mom? As if he doesn’t know. I text back, Yes. Thx for ur help. After the gig tonight. Red room. Fantasies will come 2 life. I snort. His fantasies. Not mine. Whatever. No sexts for you, asshole. Of course Rax took the red room. It’s the one with suggestive pictures and the bordello theme. It might have also had whips and a cat-o’-nine-tails pinned to the wall. If nothing else, tonight will be an experience I’ll never forget. My stomach gurgles. Feet plunk on the wooden boards outside my room. Letty’s laughter fills the hall. A door slams. Great. She and Shades are my new neighbors. I won’t be sleeping much with those two going at it like rabbits for the next couple weeks. Sure enough, giggles, moans, and the bang of a headboard against the wall crank up. I scan the room for my drumsticks, grab them off the dresser, and bound out of there. I need my drums, but Freddie’s already taken off for the venue with them. Nowhere to go but the courtyard. I stroll into the lush jungle-like realm that seems so out of place in the center of this nitty-gritty city, yet so welcome with its peaceful fountains, ornamental fish pond, and Spanish moss hanging like eerie accents from the trees. Wild energy courses through me. I need to beat something. Hard. I walk along the path, bending at random intervals to tap out rhythms on the steppingstones, iron railings, whatever surface will withstand the pounding. Toombs says he likes to be hit. Right now I’d hit him out of spite. And Rax too. What the hell am I going to do? I’m standing on the edge of a canyon, crying out for help, and finding it, but the price is so damn high. So many problems, so few good solutions. The man I love wants someone else. The man I hate wants me. The band I need is about to kick me out. The family I yearn to help depends on me to have sex with a guy I wish I could get away from. Movement from above catches my attention. I glance up. Toombs leans against the iron wrought railing surrounding the second-floor porch, watching me. His gaze is harsh, unforgiving. I wish I knew what he wanted from me. I wish he didn’t unnerve me so. I wish I didn’t resent him for the crushing truths he threw in my face this morning. Nothing changes the fact that I’m out of beats. For him. For the band. For myself. I check my watch. Four thirty. Time to don my whorewear, as Letty calls it. Quite fitting tonight. Our last show for this tour, and instead of celebrating, I get to pimp myself out to Rax Wrathbone so my family can eat and my brother can have piano lessons. A quick flip of hair over my shoulder reminds me of Toombs’s sweet gesture as we lay in bed this morning. I think braids are in order. My salute to the man I love. I meet his eyes, and something es between us. Understanding. Disappointment. Loss. At least we’re on the same page. I leave the courtyard and return to my room. The bustier Letty found for me on our Page 65

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey shopping excursion comes out of the drawer, along with some black skinny jeans. I make my face pretty with lots of makeup and color my lips a bright shade of red I wouldn’t normally be caught dead wearing. Then I part my hair down the middle and French braid it into two blond whips, tying off the ends with rubber bands. Unlike the braid Toombs wove, these won’t unravel. I’ll keep them—and my pride—together no matter what. I study myself in the mirror. I am not this person. Tonight, Jinx the Chameleon lives on. A couple hours later, I settle behind my kit at one of the biggest venues in the French Quarter. Whistles and screams rattle my eardrums. Killer Buzz Float’s final show for this tour features a wall-to-wall, packed house. If I can’t mine some new music in the next couple of days, this could very well be my swan song. Maybe even the last time I ever play onstage. My entire career as a musician flashes before me in the blink of an eye. All the highs and lows, the good and the bad, the hopes and dreams. What a ride it’s been. Letty flashes me a huge, proud grin. I fake one back at her. Rax stares at me, fingers choking the neck of his guitar, licking his lips as I throw out a three-count with my sticks. He’s so preoccupied with me, he doesn’t even notice Toombs bouncing his gaze between us. I do my best to ignore them both and focus on the rhythm, the excitement from the crowd, the memories I’ve made with this band. The fans fade around me, the ups and downs of the past few months blend into the background, the stage lights bleach out the stains of my time with Rax and Toombs. Gianna is the only thing that remains in this crucible when the fires snuff out. Pure, raw Gianna. My feet work their magic, casting spells on the pedals. The drumsticks spin across my knuckles in between crashes and taps. My hips thrust in a new dance that powers my appendages. I forget everything and trade in my memories for new, unexplored feelings. Doors in my mind close. Windows open. One force powers all forward motion: The Rock. Somewhere along the way, I lost track of that universal presence that gives art life. The Rock is heart and soul. Beginnings and endings. Abstract form and concrete energy. I lift my head and peer across my silver and black cage to freedom past the stage where fans bounce and sing along with Letty. In this moment, I am The Rock. I am control and force and beats. I’m the foundation of the band, the solid surface on which all notes depend, the spark that ignites dancing feet and fist pumps. Clarity settles in my foggy brain and sweeps away the smoke. I know who I am now. I don’t need anyone else to define me or hold me up when I’m not strong enough. There’s no longer a need to hide behind a façade. I’m Jinx Hardwick, and I have a right to be heard like everyone else. It’s time to stand up for me. To take responsibility for my actions. To believe in myself. As the last cymbal chokes and the fans rally around the stage in of Killer Buzz Float, stomping their feet and flashing devil horns, a shudder zings up my arms. My mother was right. This throne is where I was meant to sit. Every night. I’ll never be happy doing anything else. Beats are my life. I stand and toss my drumsticks over my bandmates’ heads into the throng. Fans fall over themselves trying to catch them. Grabbing my towel, I exit the stage and brace myself for what I have to do. Once I finish my business with Rax, I’m wiping the slate clean. I’ve got songs to write. Damn anyone who gets in my way. Toombs included. My bandmates follow me off, exchanging high fives and butt slaps. Jillian waits for us with a bottle of champagne. She pops the top, and foam sprays all over the place. Letty screams a ragged battle cry. Shades kisses her quiet. Rax and Toombs bump chests and slap palms together in a long fist clutch. They look into each other’s eyes and smile. God, how I envy Rax. But after tonight, he’s not my business anymore. As champagne is poured, I slip into the shadows and head for the exit. “Jinx,” Letty calls after me and runs over. Her pretty face glistens with sweat. “You’re not leaving. We have to celebrate. This is our last stop on the tour. Can’t party without our little drummer girl. Come on. Have a drink.” She tugs me toward the bar. I protest, but Letty won’t give up. If I stick around for a little bit, maybe she’ll be too drunk to notice me sneak out later. Page 66

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey “Okay. One drink,” I say and follow her back to the band. Jillian es me a flute filled with bubbly and raises her glass. “To Killer Buzz Float. Most days on this tour, I wanted to smother you all with pillows, but on nights like this, I’m glad I didn’t. Cheers.” The mouths of six glasses clink. Rax catches my eye, but he looks away quickly. Toombs is another story. The weight of his gaze is almost enough to make me change my mind about meeting Rax later. Chatter ensues around us, but Toombs and I aren’t part of it. We’re in our own bubble. No words, but plenty of body language. The nature of drummers, I guess. Keep your mouth shut. Let your body do the talking. Not sure what mine’s saying, but I hope it’s keeping my secrets secret. Some fans appear backstage, and the vibe shifts. Girls swarm the guys. Letty and I end up in opposite corners. A party atmosphere emerges, complete with music, freely flowing alcohol, and even some dancing. Finally, I can sneak away. I don’t look to see where everyone is. Rax will let me know when he’s ready, and Toombs…Well, he’s no longer my concern. I hoof it back to our new home, snag a shower, and wait. Rax’s text arrives at midnight: Ready to be blown away? Impossible. Toombs won’t be there. I send back: I’m coming for you. Step Nine: Let Him Know What He’s Missing When You’re Not Around Midnight, February 26 – New Orleans, Louisiana The house is quiet. I tap softly on the door to the red room. It opens, and Rax grabs my hand, dragging me inside. He snaps the ancient, flimsy lock and puts his back to the wood. “Alone at last.” The fresh smell of Toombs’s soap normally gets my juices flowing, but on Rax, it nauseates me. “Let’s just get it over with. What do you want me to do?” So not interested in spending any more time with him than I have to. He eases forward and palms my hips, tugging them into his. “Things didn’t go well with Toombs, I take it.” “You’d have to ask him. I’m here because you helped my mom. I’ll pay you back, and then we’re done.” I untie my shoes, toe them off, and sit on the monstrous red-and gold-dressed bed. “Do you have condoms?” He opens a drawer and takes out a box. “You know, if you kept an open mind about me, you’d see I’m not so bad.” “You coerced me into having sex with you by giving my mother a job. You’re hiding this meeting from your partner because you don’t have the balls to come clean with him. I’m pretty sure I’ve got you figured out, Rax.” I pull my shirt over my head and lay it on the bedside table. I peel down my jeans and add them to the pile. Rax’s gaze drops to my bra, then to my panties. “I can’t help it. I gotta have you for myself, Jinx.” “Hate to break it to you, but this is just sex. I’m not yours. Not by a long shot.” I don’t add that he sickens me, but damn, he does. The knot in my stomach tightens, and a bad taste fouls my mouth. He unzips his pants and releases his erection. Caresses it. “We’ll see about that. When you’re screaming my name, begging for more, I’ll consider renegotiating the of our deal.” “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I stand up. Now I’m pissed. “There are no more . You did your part, now I do mine. Then I walk away. You took everything from me. I don’t have anything left to give.” He presses his dick into the crux between my legs and rubs it against my underwear. “You have plenty more to give. Now suck my cock.” He pushes my head down, and I drop to my knees before him. I despise him. The lust I felt before when I was with him and Toombs? Gone. Nothing left but pure hatred. I glare up at him, the dick threatening to dive into my mouth against my will. Control spins away, replaced with panic. Restrained fury darkens his blue eyes. Letty’s concern from earlier needles the back of my brain. He wouldn’t force himself on me, would he? My hand shakes as I reach for his length. I curl my fingers around it and stroke tentatively. I have to be strong. Page 67

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey He grabs my braids, pulls them together and urges my mouth closer. “Do you have a problem with following directions? I said, suck my cock.” Warnings ding ding ding in my head. I can’t do this. It’s all wrong. Skeevy. Nasty. I close my eyes and choke back the tears and humiliation. This is a mistake. I should never have agreed to it. “I just want Toombs.” Shit, did I say that out loud? “You can’t have him. He’s mine. Like you’re mine. You’re both toys. Little playthings to keep me entertained. Now put your pretty pink lips around my dick, or I’ll pick up the phone and tell my dad I made a mistake.” Fueled by alcohol or some other drug, his eyes burn with promise. He’ll make good on his threat. So much for his “earnest” declaration in the hotel. He doesn’t want me any more than he wants Toombs. He just wants the pleasure we can give him. Looks like we’re both his bitches. Didn’t see that coming. I open up and take him into my mouth as twin tears streak down my cheeks. I hate you, Rax. I hate you. Breaths rush and stutter as he grins down at me with a pleased expression of ownership. He thrusts between my lips, his cock clogging my airway. This is for my family. It’s the only way.   “Yeah, suck that big dick, you whore. Then I’m gonna bend you over and show you what Toombs wishes he could be doing to your sweet little ass right now.” That’s it. I pop his shaft free, stand, and grab his nuts. “Unlike you, I actually love Toombs. Don’t you ever demean him like that again.” I twist his sac until he grunts. Red-faced, Rax laughs, lifts me up, and pushes me onto the bed. He climbs on top and pins me with his body. I push against his shoulders, but he doesn’t budge. Oh my God. I’m trapped. Fear courses like lightning through my limbs, zapping me, sending adrenaline sparks to every muscle. “Back off, Rax. I swear to God, I’ll scream if you don’t stop.” My voice is low and threatening, but I have nothing to back it up. “Make me.” The snake leans in to kiss me. I slap his face and shriek, “Stop it!” My body cuts loose, twisting, kicking, elbowing, fighting. A loud crack throws my attention off balance and sends it to the door where Toombs stands, chest heaving, eyes blazing. His heavy footfalls pound toward us, and he grabs Rax by the hair. With one quick yank, he drags Rax off me and spins him face-first into his fist. “Motherfucker.” Toombs seethes. Spit gathers at the corner of his lips, and he twists, throwing his weight and muscle into another punch—this one to the gut. Rax folds in half, grasping his middle, his dick now limp and flopping with the blow. Toombs throws a left, a right, another left. He’s a blur of motion, flailing body parts, and silent fury. A drummer once again, intent on beating skin. “Get the fuck off me, man!” Rax shouts, trying to stave off the next barrage of blows. Blood drips from his mouth, staining the cream carpet red. “Like you got the fuck off Jinx?” Toombs pauses for a couple of seconds to catch his breath, then tackles Rax to the floor where the two of them become a web of arms and legs straining to gain purchase. Tears flow in full spate down my face. I’m paralyzed. “Stop it. Please stop!” Toombs wrestles Rax into submission, climbing atop his prone form on the floor. He straddles Rax and hits him three more times. Sweat blooms across his forehead. His knuckles are bloody. I break for the door. “Somebody help!” I scream down the hall. Silence confirms no one else is home. Damn it. I don’t know what to do. Toombs grasps Rax’s mouth and squeezes it so his lips bunch up. In any other situation, it would be comical. Here, it’s anything but. “What the fuck did you do, Rax? You bribed her, didn’t you? You couldn’t stand the fact that she doesn’t want you, so you found a weakness and pounced. You fucking .” Rax’s face is a red, purple, and blue mess. Bloody clots mat his black locks to his cheeks. “Jinx, you little cunt. You told him.” He lifts his head to sneer at me and then drops it to the floor. “Jinx didn’t spill anything. Letty did. She told me about your three-way behind the bus with her and Shades. And how you arranged something with Jinx as some kind of payback. You fucking pussy. Couldn’t it the truth, could you? No. You enjoy using Page 68

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey me too much for that.” He cocks his elbow to throw another punch, and I scream. His fist lands beside Rax’s ear on the soft carpet. Toombs struggles to his feet and paces the room. “And you.” He points at me along his endless track. “You said nothing.” “I couldn’t.” My voice is mostly air, damaged by a few cracks from the falling tears. “If I’d told you, I’d have looked jealous and petty. It wasn’t my place to tattle on Rax. I thought if he truly loved you, he’d find a way to be honest.” Rax rolls gingerly to his side, wincing along the way. He pushes up with one hand. Toombs stops and squats before him. “Why couldn’t you come clean, motherfucker? How long have you been lying to me?” Rax doesn’t reply. We all know the answer. Toombs gestures to me shaking by the bed. “All this because you wanted Jinx and didn’t have the balls to break it off with me? You killed our trust. You lied to me. You used me to get to Jinx. I gave up my shot with her because of my history with you. I ignored my feelings for her to please you. Never again, asshole. Never again.” He scrubs his face and rushes over to me. He roughly cups my chin, drawing my gaze up to his. His eyes soften when they meet mine. “Did he hurt you? I’ll finish him off if he did.” I believe him. My chest aches with tightness, and I shake my head. My God. Toombs came to my rescue. I may have lost everything for my family, and the band might have just died a painful death, but Toombs stood up for me. There’s a silver lining, even if it’s small. He picks up my clothes from the table and helps me into them. Shoulders heaving, he slips an arm around me and walks me to the door. He pitches a disgusted glance at Rax and says, “We’re done. I got nothing else to say to your sorry ass.” Rax remains silent as we leave, and Toombs slams the wood, rattling the frame behind us. Shuffling feet and giggles rise up from the foyer. “What da fuck is dat noise?” Letty slurs from downstairs. Poised on the landing, I stare at her for a long moment, and then I charge down, my feet like thunder. Shades stands behind Letty, holding her up. She’s drunk, but I’m beyond furious. I get up in her face and point a shaking finger at her nose. “You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you? Thanks a lot, Letty. You fucked up everything.” “Jinx, you cussing me out?” She lifts her wobbly head and looks past me to Toombs. An uncoordinated, dramatic flourish follows. “What I do?” “You know exactly what. You told Toombs about my deal with Rax. Why couldn’t you leave it alone?” “Were you planning to tell me?” Toombs interrupts, staring at me. I can’t lie to him. “No. Because we were all supposed to sweep it under the table and forget about it, ? And because I respected your relationship with Rax. I didn’t want to be the one who hurt you.” “Fuck that. Toombs loves you, Jinx.” Letty stumbles into me, her eyes unfocused. Wearing an apologetic expression, Shades brings up the rear. Letty flops her limp hand toward Toombs. “Look at him, all lovey-dovey. He wants to fuck you. And marry you probably. I’ll bet you’re way better in the sack than Rax anyway. I fucked Rax once. You could do me, and I’ll tell you if my theory is correct.” “Okay, lights out for you.” Shades spins Letty to face him and hefts her over his shoulder. “Sorry, guys. She’ll apologize in the morning when she’s sober.” Red hair dangling upside down, Letty slaps Shades’s ass. “No, I won’t. I ain’t sorry for saying the truth. It’s obvious he loves her. Step ten, Jinx: tell him you love him with a song.” She bites Shades’s butt through the jeans, and he whisks her upstairs. Toombs and I watch after them in silence. Rax wanders out of his room and comes down the stairs. He walks right between us, spearing Toombs with a hateful glare and me a disappointed glower. Eyes red and swollen, face bloody, gait tender, he heads out of the house, leaving the front door wide open. “Fuck all of you,” he calls back, waving his middle finger at the house. Jillian wanders in from the street, looking after him. She gestures with her thumb. “What’s his problem?” Toombs shakes his head. I say, “Knock-down-drag-out. We’ll see if we still have a band tomorrow morning. I’m Page 69

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey going to bed.” Jillian turns to Toombs. “Care to explain?” “Nope.” He follows me up the stairs to my room. When we get to the door, I face him. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you, Toombs. I knew you loved Rax, so I tried to stay out of his business. But when he discovered he had something I needed, he used it to get me into his bed. The truth is, I don’t think I’d have gone through with it if you hadn’t come when you did. At least not willingly.” He inches closer and nails me with a hard stare. “Did he try to rape you? Tell me the truth.” A muscle in his cheek quivers. Did he? “I…I don’t…No. I don’t think so.” “I’ll fucking kill him.” He turns toward the steps. I grasp his arm and shake my head. “He would have stopped. He was just angry. If I’d kept fighting, he’d have stopped.” I inhale deeply, hoping Toombs buys it. God, I want to believe Rax would have backed off, though in all honesty, I’m not sure. I should give him the benefit of the doubt. For the sake of the band. Then again, he was pretty insistent… “If he ever comes near you again, I’ll—” Toombs lunges and pounds the wall behind me. I take his bloodied hands in mine. “It’s over. Leave it alone. You both need some time to cool off. Go grab a shower, clean up, and get some sleep.” His shoulders rise high and fall hard. “I need you tonight, Gianna.” He takes one of my unruly braids and curls the end around his stained fingers. His eyes plead. God, I need him too. “Okay. Let me grab a few things, and I’ll meet you in your room.” He nods and leans in for a kiss. I close my eyes and accept his gift. The rage is still there, but it eases with each second our mouths remain connected. When the kiss breaks, I whisper against his mouth, “Thank you, Jeff.” “I’d been trying to figure out how to break up with him for a few days. This made it easy in some ways. Harder in others.” I choke on my own spit, and my eyes pop. “What? Why?” “You tear me into little pieces, Jinx. No one—not Rax, not my old girlfriend—has ever laid me bare like you do.” My pulse pounds against my veins, opening up the blood flow, making me dizzy. Might need a paper bag. “I don’t understand.” He grabs either side of my face and pulls me to his mouth. “I can’t serve two masters. You stole my heart and soul when you gave yourself to me while Rax fucked me in the hotel. I knew then I had to have you. To myself.” “But…Why didn’t you say something then?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “I couldn’t just throw away a lifetime of friendship with Rax after one night with you, even though I wanted to. I had to find a way to break it to him. But he took care of that problem himself. And now there’s just you and me.” I sigh. “‘You and me’ sounds like way more than I deserve.” “You deserve the world, Gianna. The only thing left is for you to find your groove. Assuming we still have a band. I can help if you’ll let me.” All my resistance shatters. He’s so genuine, so sincere. Maybe I misread his signals at rehearsals. Maybe what I thought was condescension was actually worry for my career. I’d jump off a cliff for Toombs Badcock’s love. Maybe it’s time I took a leap of faith in our professional relationship too. I have nothing left to lose. I press a soft kiss to his parted lips. “I’ll get my sticks.” Step Ten: Tell Him You Love Him with a Song Giving Toombs time to clean up, I head to his room thirty minutes later, sticks in tow. He opens the door, leans against the jamb, and stares at me with this panty-soaking smile. I never noticed his teeth before. He’s usually scowling. They’re pretty and white but not perfect. A little chip nicks the corner of one of his incisors. Fits with the rest of the package. “You gonna invite me in, Jefferson?” I’m a quivering mess of uncertainty, doing my best to stay calm by tossing out a nervous one-liner. He takes my hand, rubs a thumb over the back of it, and drags me close enough to smell his sweet cinnamon breath. I’m small before him, but the devotion in his Page 70

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey expression makes me feel like a giant. He dips his head, closes his eyes, and welcomes me with one of his reason-tripping kisses. Our bodies cross paths in all the right places—my nipples scrape his naked chest through my flimsy nightshirt, the outline of his erection touches my belly, and our lips…Sweet Jesus, his tenderness is almost too much. Everything that was wrong an hour ago is suddenly right. I lift my lids slowly to meet his gaze. Arms around his neck, I reflect on the many hurdles we’ve cleared and how far we’ve come. I waited for him to notice me for months, and now that I have his attention, I don’t want it to end. I could stare at him all night and never tire of it. Yet, I have to be realistic. Practical. Things aren’t okay. This moment is an illusion of calm. Tomorrow, we’ll have to deal with Rax and assess the damage. Toombs hasn’t had a chance to process everything that happened yet. Breaking up with someone after a long relationship is never easy. And for me, keeping Toombs won’t be, either. Intentionally or not, I drove a wedge between him and Rax. That’s going to make life very difficult for all of us in the band. Toombs glances down the hall before pulling me into his room and closing the door behind us. He leans against the wood and studies me. Wearing only a pair of loose sweat pants, he glistens from his recent shower, little droplets on his skin taunting me, winking from his tattoos. Pervasive scars stand out in the poor light. He’s covered in them. Parallel lines in neat patterns across the undecorated parts of his skin. I touch a pair of thin, pink slices on his chest. He looks down and covers my hand with his. “Tell me about these,” I say. Now that we’re truly alone, I feel safer asking pointed questions. He answers head-on. “I used to cut myself. Or have someone else do it for me.” Pulling away, I manage to keep my cringe under wraps. Used to. In the past. I hope that’s what he means. “Weren’t you worried about going too far? I mean, what if you or your partner cut too deep? What if you couldn’t stop the blood? What if—God forbid—you were seriously injured?” He sits on the bed, and his expression becomes guarded. Great. I’ve offended him. He reaches for me, and I him. “I was very careful. Just little nicks and superficial cuts. I don’t do it anymore. I found…alternatives. Rax…” He sighs. “Rax knows how to get me off in ways that inflict pain but don’t damage.” “Rax is your Dom, right? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I’m just trying to understand.” This whole Dom/sub, sadist/masochist thing still freaks me the hell out. “We never made a formal pledge or any of that shit, but yeah, I guess he was my Dom.” He rubs the gash tattoo below his chin and laughs dryly. “This was my ‘collar.’ He went with me when I got it done. Watched all four hours while the guy put it on me. He never left my side. I think he was proud of it.” Wow. A tattoo for a collar? I love that ink. It’s my favorite of his. Why did it have to be for Rax? Cut the jealousy routine, Gianna. You’re bound to discover a whole lot of stuff about Toombs you aren’t going to like. Look past it. Deal.   I stroke the vivid reds and blacks. “It’s beautiful.” Maybe Rax isn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe he’s just a self-centered asshole who really does love Toombs but loves himself more. Everything is about Rax. Which is probably why he stuck with Toombs for so long. Still, it makes me sad that Rax took advantage of Toombs. And me. “I’m gonna get it blasted off tomorrow,” he says. “Don’t do that. Not yet. You may change your mind.” He shakes his head. “No. I’m done with his bullshit. If he can’t look me in the eye and tell me the truth…Fuck him.” The tightness in his shoulders and intensity rolling off him warn me to leave it alone. I touch his bare, hot back. When he leans subtly into my palm, I rub circles there. “You deserve happiness. What can I do to make you happy?” His head snaps up, and he nails me with the hard stare of a famished predator. “Let me serve you. Let me help you find your beats.” Apprehension hitches, tossing a boulder on my brain’s track, derailing me from my comfort zone. As the new girl on his block, I have a lot to learn. And he hasn’t Page 71

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey figured me out yet, either. Does he mean serve me in a submissive way? He’s used to having Rax tell him what to do. I’m not sure I can boss him around, and hurting him is pretty much out of the question. But pain gets him off. So what do I do? Pretend I’m a Domme and make him my bitch, even though it scares the hell out of me? Hit him, despite my better judgment? Back out because I’m a chicken shit? What would a chameleon do? Adapt. What should Gianna do? Hold on to Toombs as long as he’ll let me. “I’m going to need a little…coaching.” I bite my lip. “No, you don’t. I told you, I watch people. I know what makes them tick. There’s a Domme lurking underneath your skin. She came out when you punched Rax in the hotel, and I’ve seen flashes of her a few times since. Do what comes naturally.” He tweaks the drumsticks in my hands and eases onto the comforter. I don’t believe him. I’m no Domme. At least, I don’t think I am. I search his expression for signs of teasing but find only certainty. Faith. The line of his erection stretches the fabric of his sweats. That’s all it takes. Something aggressive snaps like a glow stick inside the sexual part of my brain. “What about condoms?” I have to ask, though I want so badly to do him bareback. I’ve got birth control pills to cover me on the pregnancy front, but nothing to prevent an STD from rearing its ugly head. “You’re in charge. I trust you, Gianna. You have to decide whether you trust me.” I might be making a huge mistake, but I trust him more than I do myself. Bareback it is. Jesus, have mercy on me. Letting go of my fears, I straddle him. He wants beats? I’ll give him beats. My wrists cut loose, tapping out a low-key backbeat on the pillow above his head, around his arms, and on the wooden headboard. The rhythm—a simple but seductive swing—flows seamlessly. I amp it up by lifting my butt and hovering so my feet can paddle out a bass drum groove on either side of his thighs. He smiles. God, how I love his smile. His hips rock under me. Leaning close to his mouth, I say, “If you want to serve, then ravage me. Ruin me. Make me sweat. And scream. And come.” With a wry grin, he adjusts his position, stretches, pushing his hard-on into me through too many annoying layers of clothes. “Yes, Mistress.” He’s got it all wrong. I’m the supplicant here. Not him. But I’ll be what he needs me to be. For as long as he’ll have me. I point to my eyes and gather some momentum for my bold new role. “I want you to look at me while you do it. Attention right here. Don’t waver, or I’ll…punish you.” Oh my God, I can’t believe I said that. If he tests me, I’m not sure I’ll follow through with my threat. I can’t hurt him the way Rax does. Can I? His dick twitches beneath me, and his pupils flare. “I’ll try to behave.” I reach deep inside for fortitude, grab his rocks through the fabric, and squeeze. “You will behave.” Those quicksilver orbs narrow into submission, and the playfulness is replaced with pure devotion. “Yes, Mistress.” I could die. The word alone sends quivers swimming through my belly, radiating outward like ripples on a pond and doubling back toward my center. This power, this control—false as it may be—is totally foreign to me. But I like it. Maybe Toombs really did see something in me I didn’t recognize within myself. Maybe this brave new Jinx isn’t new at all, but someone who was buried under heaps of guilt and shyness, waiting for the right person to set her free. Maybe I can make Toombs mine by commanding his body. I slip the pajama top over my head, focusing on the soft cotton caressing my nipples, the curves of my breasts, the ticklish spot on my neck that Toombs keeps exploiting. I push the pajama bottoms low on my hips, twist just enough for my clit stud to pop Page 72

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey free of the waistband and taunt him. He watches. Wipes the corner of his mouth. God, I hope he’s salivating like I am. I grasp one of his fingers, lick it long and slow, then dip it into my slick pussy. “Take me. Hard. Now.” “As you wish.” He throws me over, rips the PJs down to my ankles, yanks my hands painfully behind my back, and dives face first into my ass. Holy Mother of God. The thrill of being chased chills and elates my skin. My core is on fire. Exposed. I’m a live wire with no grounding in sight. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my…God… Toombs spreads my butt cheeks with one hand while pinning my wrists to the base of my spine with the other. The drumsticks are forgotten. He licks, bites, caresses. The bristles of his goatee scratch tender skin. I clench my cheeks tight, only for him to pry them open and plunge deeper. I buck against him, not to get away, but to keep from flying apart. My legs scissor wildly. The weight of his body stifles them. He drives harder into forbidden territory. I wrench a hand free and flop it around in search of his cock. Out of reach, damn it. I need him inside me, tearing me open, with nothing between us but what God gave us. Dragging my knees under me, I push my ass into his face. As he plunders both holes with tongue, fingers, and nose, his moans vibrate my entire lower half. He grunts and bucks with me. It sounds like he wants to come too. Maybe he already has. “Put your cock in me, balls deep, Toombs. Rake me open with those pearls.” This is going to hurt like hell. I’m so damn horny for him, I don’t care. He stops, and the bed shifts as he shrugs out of his sweats and thumps my butt with his rock-hard erection. Warm fluid and cool metal from the head swish across my ass cheek, luring goosebumps to the surface of my skin. I shiver like someone walked over my grave. He climbs the length of my back to whisper in my ear. “I’m gonna fuck you senseless, Gianna. I’ll dick you so hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.” I turn my face into his and playfully bite the hairs on his chin. “Then you’ll have to carry me.” The spicy aggression in his expression melts into sweet chocolate pudding. “I’d carry you up a mountain, through a desert, across an ocean. Anywhere you go, I’m there to hold you up, baby.” Elation hits me so hard, I gasp. He calms my shakes with a quiet kiss, and slips away. I wiggle my ass for his viewing pleasure. He lowers his mouth to imbibe some more, this time focusing on making my pussy wetter, which doesn’t seem possible, yet he works his magic. Toombs continues to prove not all tongues are created equal. Sliding in and out, flicking the silver through my hood, he makes me dizzy with wanton lust. God, I want his beaded cock inside me again. “Fuck me, Toombs. Let me be your fantasy come to life.” The words barely clear the slopes of my teeth, and his dick does exactly what I asked. It spears my starving pussy like a spitted pig. I can almost taste him in my mouth. A squeal flies out of me, and I rear on my knees, nearly choking on the sudden rush of saliva glutting my mouth. The pleasure-pain fills me, splits me, flays me. His hands clamp onto my breasts and squeeze. He speaks along the column of my neck, his voice rattling me straight to my core. “You are my fantasy. All this time I dreamed of fucking you with Rax. When it finally happened, you left me empty inside.” I gasp, curling an arm around his shoulder. “Me?” He hits a homerun with a rough thrust that knocks me off balance, but of course, he’s there to catch me. God, it’s so much better without a condom. My pussy tightens around his cock, demanding more. Cool air sweeps across my sweaty skin. “Yeah, you. Because I thought if I had you once, I’d be satisfied.” He lowers a hand to my clit, pinches the barbell, then thumbs the sensitive nub. I wiggle a protest, but he holds me in place with his other arm. Trapped in the best way. Like I am when I’m behind my drums. He resumes slow thrusts, the bead implants rubbing the underside of my pussy. I need them in the front. On my clit. Not that his fingers aren’t doing a bang-up job there already. Lips fall on my collarbone and lay a trail of steamed kisses up to my ear. “But you Page 73

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey didn’t satisfy me, Jinx. You fucking haunted me.” I jerk back to see if he’s kidding. His face is totally sincere, encumbered by thick emotion. For me? All motion stops. “I don’t understand,” I whisper. I’m overwhelmed by him, by these words, the liquid heat coursing through my limbs and stealing sense from my brain. His cock twitches inside me. He presses a kiss under my chin. “You haunt me. When I’m with Rax, I see your face. When I sleep, I dream of you. When I play guitar onstage, your beats drive me. “I tried to deny you. Blew you off after you caught Rax and me jerking off because I didn’t want you to know that side of me. I thought it would disappoint you. You were way too pretty and pure for a fuck-up like me. “When you walked in on Rax and me with the groupie on the bus, you tried to kiss me. I came undone. I wanted so badly to hold you and fucking make out with you for an hour. But Rax was there, and he wouldn’t have liked it. That’s the only reason I didn’t throw you on the couch and rip into you like a murderer eating his last meal.” I turn in his arms, and he slips free of my pussy. Wrists resting on his shoulder, I peer into his silver eyes, and find raw openness there. “I had no idea you felt that way about me. I thought I was alone.” He cups my chin and presses a soft kiss to my lips. “Never, baby. You bet your sweet ass I’m always here for you.” Gush. “I may not understand your…proclivities, but I’m certain about one thing. I’m head-over-heels crazy for you. So crazy that I’m willing to venture out of my comfort zone and try some…sexual things I never considered before. I can’t be Rax, but I’ll be your Gianna if you’ll let me. Give me a shot at making it work. That’s all I ask.” I hadn’t planned on sharing my deepest feelings with him, but it’s pretty damn freeing to put it out there. Still not mentioning the L word, though. There’s plenty of time to grow toward that. “Then, I’ll only ask this once. If you say no, I drop it and never bring it up again.” His hands rest on my hips, his eyes lock onto mine, pinning me, daring me to try to look away. I nod. “Okay.” “I want you to hit me, Jinx. Beat the shit out of me. Use my body as your kit. Find your rhythm under my skin and build a song. Out of me.” The resolve in his face confirms he’s dead serious. I clam up. He could have asked me to do anything in the world, but this…this is the one thing I really don’t want to do. In my mind, hitting is fueled by anger, not love. That’s why it was so easy with Rax. A ball grab-and-twist in the heat of ion is one thing, but Toombs wants me to use violence against him. To intentionally hurt the man I care about. “I can’t hit you. That would be—” Exactly what he wants. I falter. “I’m not sure I can do that.” His nod doesn’t hide his disappointment. But his lips forgive me with a gentle suckle on my breast, followed by a long, deep chaser on the mouth. Barely a taste of tongue, soft undulations of his masterful jaw working my lips into a tizzy. Heated blood scalds my skin, warm breath tickles and teases. Warring with myself, I push him to his back and climb on top of him again. I grab his cock and stuff it inside me. God how he fills me. He’s scarred silk. Striking and soft, but damaged. I wouldn’t have him any other way. How can I deny him his identity? Maybe if I had one of my own, I’d understand him better. The beads lodge just right against my throbbing clit. I pry my legs wide open to give every bit of myself to him. Each lunge and retreat riles the metal stud, producing gasps and moans rivaling those of a porn star. He maintains a swing rhythm, perfectly matched to the backbeats I played earlier. It’s slow enough to keep me from coming, but fast enough to make me increase my own tempo in hopes of bringing that shit on. Forehead pressed to his, breasts resting on his wiry chest, I stare into those mesmerizing orbs and tremble at the onslaught of emotion he drags out of me. Nervous energy explodes in my gut. Instinct sends my thoughts straight to my drumsticks. Where are they? I want to hit something. Page 74

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey Fuck this hemming and hawing. I can’t deny him. I love Toombs Badcock. I’m going to give him what he needs. What I need too. I feel around the bed for the wood. There. A new song forms in the recesses of my mind. Skip-da-da-doo. Tap-tap. Skip-da-da-doo. Crash. Choke. Skip-da-da-doo… Syncopated ghost notes appear in the rhythm floating through my brain waves. I greet his cock with punches of accent notes in perfect time with his lunges. Still straddling him, I lift my torso and ride him like a horse that refuses to be tamed. Hips roll with the swinging notes. Beats emerge. And I tap the sticks on flesh. Gently.   Pleasure saturates his eyes, beaming pure, unabashed lust. I feel the horse breaking beneath me, giving in to each crack of the wood, submitting. “Yes,” the beast says. “Just like that.” His thrusts shift the rhythm. We speed up together. I hit him harder. I don’t want to, but I must increase the tempo to keep up, or he’ll leave me behind. I can’t do this alone. I need him with me. Faster, faster we go. My wrists no longer obey me. They’re fixated on delivering the beats I promised. “Give me your anger and pain and frustration,” he says. “Pour it all into me. Let me bleed for you, baby. Let me hurt for you. Let me carry the weight of your world. I’ll take it all for you.” As I pound harder and faster, sticks nothing but a whir, his pelvic stabs forming the bass beat, his thumb roughing my clit to the brink of pain, I let go of every inhibition and cut loose a battle cry. With it, the wall keeping me from reaching my goals shatters, crumbles around us. And the beats rush to freedom through that dam. Hundreds of grooves manifest. Enough to power twenty albums. The cadences play simultaneously, parallel to one another, yet I can feel each one’s uniqueness. “That’s it, baby.” Toombs grins. “Now, fall. I’ll catch you, Gianna. I promise.” I believe him. I ride his cock to climax, spine twitching, stomach muscles stretched, head thrown back, body exposed. My clit erupts with a mind-numbing orgasm. The only thing my eyes as a tidal wave of intense pleasure drowns my body is Toombs’s smile. He watches me through heavy lids, panting, accepting my beats reddening his flesh. And then he lets go too. He withdraws his cock from between my legs and shoots white hot cum all over my pussy, up my belly, into the corners of my thighs—every-fucking-where. A low moan escalates as the orgasm nears its end. “Goddamn it, Gianna.” Another stripe drenches my clit. I slide my finger through it and suck him off. “Goddamn you for making me love you so fucking hard.” Must be the endorphins or something, but I laugh. I’m so high on him, on this intense pleasure ride we shared— Holy shit, did he just say he loves me? I fall on top of him, squashing his cock against my belly, drumsticks lost somewhere in the sheets, my hair fanned around us. My lips flavored with his cum, I kiss him. Tongue, teeth, heavy lust. His body stills beneath me. The puddle of cream between us—a combination of his and mine—is a sticky, delicious mess lubricating our skin. I twist my hips and grind my cunt on his softening cock. I lick a dab of white off his stomach and feed him a taste of himself using my tongue as a spoon. “Did you say you love me, or was that my imagination?” He sighs against my lips. “Fucking truth.” “So that wasn’t the heat of the moment talking?” He swipes the tangles from my face with one hand and clutches me tightly to his torso with the other. “Maybe a little.” I laugh. “You’re a bastard.” “And you’re a drummer again. Did you feel that, Jinx? We made something much bigger than music. We made love.” Tears launch a surprise attack on my ducts. “Is that what it’s called? Because I could seriously do that five times a day for the rest of my life.” “I know you’re not into it like I am, but I’ve never had someone beat me so fucking hard. You’re art in motion. ion and delicate skin and perfection. I could die happy after that, but the thought of you ever doing that shit to another guy makes me want to fucking punch a brick wall.” “I didn’t think I could do it.” I sit up, and my gaze falls to the results of my Page 75

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey handiwork. Oh my God. I run my fingers gently over the numerous blackening spots on his chest. Shit, I really beat the crap out of him. The trapped tears break the dam wide open and course down my cheeks. Panicked, acidic regret eats holes through my stomach. I press kisses to the bruises, whispering to each one, “I’m so sorry.” He sits up suddenly. The fury in his eyes zaps me like a bolt of lightning. “Don’t you ever fucking apologize for hitting me.” He spreads his arms wide. “Do I look hurt to you? Fuck, I could come again right now if you told me to.” His rigid cock points at me. He chokes it and thumbs the droplet leaking from the head. “You could beat me all night, and I’d never get tired of it. This is who I am, Gianna. You asked for nothing but gave me what I needed. Unconditionally. And we got a drum groove out of it. That’s all I ever wanted. For you to find your rhythm again so you could be the musician you were born to be. So fucking proud of you.” Toombs leans close and gives me the only thing I need. His love in the form of a gut-wrenching kiss. “Goddamn you for kidnapping my soul and holding it for ransom. I hated you for coming between me and Rax, but now I’m so glad you did.” He looks down at his bruises and touches one tenderly. His eyes fill with satisfaction. “My soul’s yours to keep and beat and love if you’ll have it.” He’s gotta be kidding. “I’ll cherish yours if you’ll cherish mine.” He smiles. “You’ve got a deal.” “And we’ve got a song.” I hold up the drumsticks. Jesus, do we have a song. Only question left is can we mine nine more like it in a couple of days? Step Eleven: Grab Him by the Balls and Never Let Him Go Rax must’ve stayed out all night. The next morning, he’s not in his room when Toombs knocks on the door. This can’t be good. I’m scared to death that Rax will never forgive me. What if I broke up the band? Letty spills into the hallway, a shaky mess of unsteady limbs and groans, hair a tangled red nest. She lays a palm on her forehead. Her face drops when she sees me. Wincing, she hesitates and then shuffles my way. “I might have to puke, but first I gotta tell you I’m sorry about last night. Shades said I ratted out Rax when I was drunk. Must’ve lost my fucking mind. I suck, dude.” I nod. “Yeah, you do.” She looks surprised that I agree. She’d better get used to it. Gone is the quiet, shy Jinx who always kept her opinions under wraps. The new and improved model plans to stand up for herself from now on. But that doesn’t mean I can’t forgive a mistake. I open my arms to Letty, and she falls into me. Our hug is short-lived. “I’m just gonna…” She pins two fingers to her lips and bows out her cheeks, then runs down the hall to the bathroom. Heaves and toilet water splatters follow. I cringe and lean against Toombs. Shades comes up the stairs bearing two cups of steaming coffee. “Hey. Sorry about Letty. It’s hard to believe I’m the responsible one in this relationship.” Toombs waves him off. “You seen Rax this morning?” Shades shakes his head. “Not since you wailed on him last night.” He takes a sip from one of the cups. “We gonna need to hire a referee so we can record this album?” “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Rax whenever his sorry ass shows up.” “Look, I shouldn’t have kept quiet about Rax, Letty, and me, but I really think he was trying to protect you. He didn’t want to hurt you.” Toombs clenches his jaw and nods. I’m pretty sure I know what he’s thinking: He didn’t want to hurt me, but he gave into his desires anyway. I take Toombs’s hand and give it a squeeze. Letty wanders out of the bathroom, wiping her mouth with the back of a wrist. Despite her pale complexion, she’s still got a sense of humor. “Have you guys finally itted your feelings for one another? Or do we have more work to do? Is there any further need for Letty Dillinger’s Twelve-Step Program in your life, Jinx? And don’t forget, if the advice failed, my satisfaction guarantee stands.” She smothers a smile and quirks a sideways look at Shades. “No, we’re good.” I glance at Toombs, who seems mildly amused. “You’re taking relationship advice from Letty?” he asks. “I never said it was good advice.” Letty stomps her foot. “Hey now. You gotta it at least some of it came in handy. Page 76

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey Right?” “Well…” I feel a blush creep into my cheeks. “Maybe the part about telling him I love him with a song.” “I never said to do that.” “Yeah, you did. When you were wasted last night. It may be the only piece of advice you gave me that actually worked.” “Fuck that.” Letty’s jaw drops, and she flips me a bird. “Okay, smart-ass, how about this one? Step Eleven: Grab him by the balls and never let him go.” She slaps a palm to Shades’s scrotum to demonstrate. He stifles an “oomph!” and readjusts his stance by backing up until the wall catches him. Somehow he manages not to spill a drop of coffee from either cup. She jabs a thumb his way. “See? Gets ’em every time.” I tilt my head down and shoot a glance at Toombs. He lifts a brow hopefully. “You’d like it too much,” I mumble. A door opens behind us. Jillian squints from the darkness of her room. An unlit cigarette dangles from the corner of her mouth. She looks a bit hungover too, which is hilarious, considering I’ve never even seen her buzzed. “Anybody know anything about Rax getting arrested last night?” She holds up her cell phone. The four of us say, “What?” in unison. “Public drunkenness. I gotta go pick him up at the police station on Royal.” “This is New Orleans. How fucking drunk do you have to be to get arrested for that shit here?” Letty’s wide eyes are incredulous. “Pretty fucking drunk,” Shades says. “Stupid motherfucker.” Toombs grumbles and stomps off to his room. “I’ll go with you,” I tell Jillian. I need to speak with Rax alone. And Jillian too. She scrutinizes me for a long moment and then waves me toward the stairs. “Let’s go.” As soon as we hit the pavement toward Royal Street, she digs into me. “I don’t know what went on between you, Rax, and Toombs, but I’m sick of this bullshit, Jinx. You do realize we’re set to record an album in three days, right? Three fucking days.” I can’t see her eyes behind the dark sunglasses, but if her tone is any indication, she’s furious. With good reason. “Rax and Toombs had a falling out over me. But I’m going to set things right. Personally and professionally. I swear to God, I’ll make it rain beats for you when we hit the studio.” She grunts and looks away. My thoughts return to Toombs lying under me as I struck him over and over again with my sticks. The blissful expression on his face. The sweet words he said afterward. God, I can’t believe I hit him like that. This morning his chest looked like it had been used for rubber bullet target practice. I wanted to apologize. He wanted a repeat performance. This new role as Domme has my head swimming. It’s scary as hell, but I also find the prospect…empowering. It’ll take a lot of getting used to and a lot of boundary pushing. But I’m willing to try. For Toombs. For us. We walk in silence for a while until I find the courage to come clean. “I know you’re angry at me for not being able to deliver on the new record. I’m mad at myself. But I had a breakthrough last night. I’m confident I won’t freeze again. If we can get Rax sobered up, I’m willing to rehearse all day, every day, until we start recording.” “I’m going to hold you to that promise,” Jillian says, puffing on her cigarette. She flicks her ashes into the street as her heels click-clack on the sidewalk. “Right now, I’m more concerned about Rax’s latest fuck-up. I swear you guys and your goddamn drama are gonna be the death of me.” “Sorry,” I say. “Is it okay if I speak to Rax alone before we head back to the house? I have some things I need to get off my chest.” “Fine. Just no more fighting. And he doesn’t need to be in the same zip code as any alcoholic beverages until this record wraps.” I nod. We climb the steps to the station. She pauses when we reach the door. “You and Toombs, huh?” “Yeah. Maybe.” “You’re much better for him than Rax. That guy is poison.” I suppose that’s meant to be a compliment…? Hard to tell with Jillian. “So you knew about the two of them?” I ask. She gives me a “child, please” look. “Gay-dar. One of my many super powers.” She Page 77

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey taps her temple. Jillian comes across as such a hardcore businesswoman, sometimes I forget she must have a life outside of the tour bus. I also forget she’s a lesbian, which doesn’t normally matter, but in this situation, she might have some insight about Toombs I don’t. I conjure more courage and ask, “You ever been so in love with someone, you’re blinded to all the…uncomfortable stuff that comes along with the package?” “Who hasn’t?” A faraway smile crosses her lips. Jillian drops her cigarette to the ground and crushes it with a shoe. “Once upon a time, I was married. He was a great guy. Loved him like crazy. Turned out he was gay. It devastated me, but we remained friends after the divorce. I clung to this image I had of him in my mind—someone he absolutely wasn’t—the person I needed him to be. “We meet for dinner one night about a year after we split, and he says to me, ‘When are you gonna come out?’” Jillian puffs her chest. “What the fuck? Out of nowhere. ‘I’m not the one who’s gay,’ I say, all defensive and pissed off. He just smiles and nods at the waitress, and I realize I’ve been following her ass every time she walks away from the table. ‘Bullshit,’ I call on myself. Bullshit. I’ve been gay ever since.” She laughs. “What I’m saying here is sometimes the one you love introduces you to the person inside—the real one who you’re so close to, you don’t even recognize her. Sometimes the one you love knows you better than you know yourself. They bring out the best in us when we least expect it.” Yeah. Jillian’s a smart woman. I don’t know what kind of person Toombs brings out of me, but Jillian’s absolutely right. This chameleon does have an identity of her own. It’s just a matter of finding her true, native color. “Come on.” Jillian slaps the back of my arm. “We’ve got an asshole to bail out.” I follow her into the building. As she deals with paperwork, I pull my thoughts together. Things will never be the same between Rax and Toombs, and now me. But I have to try to salvage whatever I can. If it hadn’t been for me, they probably wouldn’t have broken up. It’ll be a delicate balancing act from this point forward. For all of us. After about an hour’s wait, a police officer walks Rax over. Jillian lays her hands on her hips and scowls. “You look like frosted shit cookies with a side of rancid milk.” “Thanks. I feel like a million bucks.” He avoids my gaze. Jillian’s too. Rax’s battered face is pale where it’s not black, blue, or leaking blood. A crusty brown line splits his cheek in two. His usually gorgeous hair is ratty and matted. His eyes are dull. Broad shoulders deflated. Like he lost his best friend. I feel sorry for him. “You owe me a fucking million bucks. That’s two strikes, buddy. Alcohol poisoning was numero uno. Public drunkenness, numero dos. One more fuck-up, and you’re out.” “Yeah, thanks for the lecture, Mom. I got it.” He waves her off. Jillian gets right up in his personal space and stares him down. “I’m glad you understand. I’d hate to see you lose out on the music deal of a lifetime because you let your childish desires get in the way of good business decisions. Now, we’re going back to the house to work on some new music. You’re gonna clean up and meet us downstairs at noon, wearing your happy face. You’ll be pleasant and attentive. You’ll be eager to work. And you’ll behave yourself. Got it?” His lip twitches as he stares back. “Yep. I damn sure do got it.” “Excellent.” Jillian glances at me. “Jinx has a few things she’d like to talk to you about on your walk back, so I’ll see you there.” Without another word, she turns and leaves Rax and me alone. Awkward silence widens the gap between us. I go for the door, and he follows. “For once in your life, can you be honest?” I say once we get outside. “No one else has to know what we discuss, but I need the truth.” “About what?” I walk him away from the building toward some shade under a cluster of trees. “If Toombs hadn’t walked in when he did last night, would you have done it? Would you have…forced me?” I have to know if Toombs’s loyalty to Rax was misplaced. Deep down, I believe Rax wouldn’t have gone through with it, but if he’s truly the scoundrel he makes himself out to be, I can’t stay in the band with him. I’ll see Toombs on the side—or not at all. Whatever I have to do. But I won’t make music with a rapist. Page 78

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey I’m confident I have nothing to worry about. Rax doesn’t answer. My heart sinks. “So, you would have.” After a long pause, he centers his gaze on me and says, “No. I wouldn’t have forced you. But I wouldn’t have made it easy for you to resist.” Asshole. I straighten. “If you cared even a little about me, you would have respected my boundaries. You’d have left it alone—or at the very least, not interfered—when I said I wanted Toombs and not you. But you only care about number one, don’t you? Rax Wrathbone will knock down anyone who gets in the way of what he wants.” He looks away and exhales heavily. “I get it. Underneath the metal and snake scales is a good guy. I believe that. I’m sorry things didn’t go your way, but if you want respect and honesty, you have to give them. Life is a two-way street. If you put up blockades to make it a one-way, you’re pretty much guaranteed to be walking that road alone. Or watching others who are just like you by.” I look down. My hands are shaking. I lay one of them on Rax’s arm. “Toombs is devastated.” He swallows as if something bitter skunked his tongue. “Yeah, I’m sure he is.” I square my shoulders. “What happened is between you two. I’m not interested in playing your romance counselor. If you guys work things out and want me out of the picture, so be it. I’ll respect your wishes. But I doubt Toombs will have anything to do with you until you can be honest. With him and yourself.” He lowers his head. “Sorry, Jinx.” The mumbled words are so soft, I barely them. “Me too.” My nervous hands have nothing to beat. I shove them into my back pockets. “For what it’s worth, I forgive you. And I really appreciate you helping my mom get the job at the bank, but I’ll understand if you change your mind about that.” Please don’t change your mind. He presses his lips together as if to hold something explosive inside, and then shakes his head. “I think I’ve done enough damage.” “Yeah, you have.” I didn’t mean for those words to slip out. I try to tame them with, “And so have I. Sorry I threw a monkey wrench into your relationship, but I care deeply for him. Toombs is worth fighting for.” He nods. “He is. But I’m done fighting battles I can’t win. He’s all yours.” “So, you’re going to toss aside years of friendship because of me?” My bottom lip quivers. I bite it to shut it up. “No. Because of me.” There’s the raw honesty Rax so rarely displays. Maybe this realization of how much he hurt Toombs will lead to some kind of redemption for him. He has to see how serious this is. He and Toombs will have to figure things out. I’m not part of their solution. But I’m also not going down without a fight if it comes to that. “A sincere apology would go a long way.” I touch the fading bruise I gave his cheek in the hotel, now buried under a fresh one from Toombs. “It did for me.” “I’ll think about it.” “Okay.” Understanding es between us. I believe Rax. He has a good heart, but it’s riddled with choking vines of selfishness. He deserves someone who will free him from himself. Just like Jillian said. “I hope you find happiness, Rax.” The muscles in his cheek ripple as his eyes dart away, leaving our moment of truth high and dry. A girl walks by wearing a Killer Buzz Float T-shirt from our show last night. She’s listening to her iPod, head bopping, oblivious to Rax and me. Chills gnaw up my arm. Holy hell. I’m somebody. Sap time is over. It’s time to grab The Rock by the balls and never let it go. “Let’s go make some music.” Beats Toombs says nothing when Rax and I enter the foyer, but he watches us like a hawk from his perch behind the railing at the top of the staircase. A dark shadow clouds his face. He swoops down, taking the steps two at a time, and crashes into me. Two Page 79

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey arms enfold me like great, painted wings. I flash him a smile that I hope conveys, Everything’s okay. We’ll talk about this later. He takes my elbow and leads me away without so much as a careless glance at Rax, who gingerly mounts the stairs like an old man in desperate need of a cane. Or maybe a wheelchair. “Are you ready to rehearse?” The clipped cadence of Toombs’s voice is sharp as a knife. “I could ask you the same question,” I say. “Bring it.” His eyes follow Rax to the landing, a wistful look settling within them. I ache for him. For both of them. Toombs escorts me to the parlor where Letty lies on the floor, her pretty red hair splayed around her, hand pressed to her head, groaning. “Why’d you let me drink so much, Shades? You bastard.” Shades shakes his head. “Sorry, pussycat. Just , you don’t have to accept every dare. That guy last night was twice your size. You lost the bet before the first shot was poured. Though, I gotta it, you and tequila make a fucking cute couple.” Sitting on the velvet-upholstered couch, tuning his bass, Shades is totally out of place with his fauxhawk, ear gauges, and unapologetic tattoos against the gentile Southern style of a decadent era long gone. “Ugh. I’ll this, motherfucker. For a really long time.” Letty rolls to her side and curls into a ball. Even though she tattled on Rax, I feel sorry for her too. Toombs gestures to the corner. He must’ve set up my kit while I was out. My massive set of Pearl Reference Pure drums waits for me like a black and steel fortress atop a craggy cliff, daring me to climb. I when I decided I wanted these drums. I found out how much they cost and almost crapped myself. My dad told me, “If you want to be a serious drummer, you need quality instruments. You can take the easy route and buy cheap ones now, or you can save your money for a couple of years, and do it right.” Sure. No pressure. I’m glad I did it right. Sometimes delayed gratification is a good thing. I turn to Toombs. He’s staring at me, Rax apparently forgotten. He lifts his chin and angles it toward my kit. “Just like last night.” Easy for him to say. “I’m right behind you, backing you up every step of the way, babe.” I inhale deeply. I wish he’d touch me. Kiss me. Something. But Toombs is too private to play that crap in public. I gotta stop being so needy. A shot of adrenaline races through my blood when he leaves me for his guitar. A panic chaser follows right behind. Time to pull up the big-girl panties. My mouth is dry. My palms are sweaty. Shades sneaks a peek my way as his fingers run scales up and down the frets of his bass. I lower my head and sit on the throne. Same indentations in the leather cushion, same worn edges, same cracks as always. Yet the seat isn’t comfortable. My posture is off. I stall by adjusting the height of my crash cymbal, repositioning my bass pedal. I pick up the sticks. Thumbs rub the grain. I search for balance in the wood. My brain tumbles into full-on freak-out mode. Come on, Jinx.   Toombs jacks into the monitor and tunes up. He left me. On my own. I can’t a single rhythm from the explosion in my brain last night. Tunnel vision sets in. Blood pounds in my ears. I stare at my useless hands… …And they transform into Mikey’s long, elegant fingers dancing across ebony and ivory keys. Rachmaninoff comes to brilliant, moving life inside my head—a multifaceted musical butterfly emerging from its drab cocoon. My brother’s talented hands move effortlessly, hitting every note with just the right accents. His ion bleeds through the song, and I even catch a hint of emotion peeking out from the flat planes of his face. A smile tightens the slack lines as he achieves musical perfection despite all the social struggles that challenge him daily. Mikey’s got it figured out. The key to success is trusting yourself. And letting go of everything that weighs you down. Page 80

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey The vision fades, and I’m left staring dumbly at my drumsticks. I shake my head. I can do this. If not for me or my bandmates, then for Mikey. My foot chomps on the hi-hat pedal, testing the tension on the clutch. Shades looks at me expectantly, hopefully. Letty sits up, bracing herself on palms, encouraging me with a warm smile. Toombs turns to me. No hope or encouragement in his expression. Only certainty. He believes in me. Like Mikey. And Mom and Dad. And Letty and Shades. Of course I can do this. Surrounded by so much faith and love, how could I not? I mentally flip my inner metronome to 4/4 time signature and stomp the kick drum on beats one and eleven. Snare taps on five, seven, and thirteen. Top it off with hi-hat on odd beats. I add a bass kick just shy of fourteen. The groove builds as I stick my toe a little deeper into the improvisation river and fill in with some ghost strokes after a few measures. I flesh out a more defined phrase—only about sixteen bars—and enrich it with each repetition. Toombs nods as if he fully expected these grooves and s me on rhythm guitar. Shades grins, tapping his foot to my feathered bass drum counts. With Shades and Toombs holding the song together, I explore, fish for the right rhythms to complement their lead. I pop off some flam drags, but they don’t match the bass line, so I abandon those in favor of a funky polyrhythm fill. This is good. It’s not perfect, but I’m loosening up, easing back into being comfortable in my creative mode. A jam session unfolds—changing time signatures, shifting styles from Latin to African roots and beyond. I weave in lengthy fills and dabble with syncopation. My mind travels in too many directions, all of them good, but not particularly cohesive. Shades stops. “What if we did something really fucked up and took that last riff,” he replays the lick, “to 7/8 time?” Toombs nods and doodles on his guitar for a couple measures until he gets it down. He turns to me. I freeze up. Tap tap tap tap…tap… Come on, Gianna, it’s not hard. Just improvise to seven eighth notes per measure, you dumb-ass. But my fumbling limbs won’t cooperate. I try again. And again. And again. What the hell is wrong with me? I just led a rocking improv session without even thinking, and now I can’t lay down a simple 2-4 backbeat in 7/8 time? Frustration wicks up my spine, coaxing tears to my eyes. Nope. Not gonna cry about a stupid rhythm. This is kindergarten stuff. Toombs plays the lick again, slowly this time, coaching me with lifted brows on all the accents. He mouths the counts for me. “Uh…” One more time. Tap tap tap… Flounder. I drop my chin to my chest, hoping my hair will cover my shame. Why can’t I do this? The dams in my eyes are about to burst. I bite my lip hard and try unsuccessfully again. Over and over I fail. I don’t want to disappoint the band. Least of all, Toombs. Just as I’m about to throw my sticks on the floor and run out the door, a body warms my back. Two legs hug mine, and Toombs’s arms cover me. Rough calluses caress the backs of my hands, guiding the sticks toward the snare head. I resist, but he whispers beside my ear, “Let me help you, Gianna.” In this moment, my worst nightmare and deepest desire merge to form a dream come true. All these months on tour, I feared not being able to live up to Toombs’s expectations of me as a drummer. I feared he’d never see me as the musician—or woman—I aspired to be. But the truth is, I’m not the woman I want to be. I’m Gianna Donato whether I like her or not. Flaws and insecurities. Strengths and talents. I’m not infallible or perfect any more than he is. I’m just…me. And his smile tells me just me is okay with him. Leaning into him for strength, I absorb his beats through our entwined arms and legs. He courses through me—not like Rax’s choking vine, but like a calming drug. Once again, our pulses merge into one singular beat, powered by— “I love you, baby.” His eyes close, and he buries his nose in my hair. —love. Our bodies rock together, but he’s not even playing anymore. This groove is all me. I laugh. The beats were here all along. I just needed Toombs to show me where to dig Page 81

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey for them. I continue banging after he slides his leg off the back of the stool. As he returns to his guitar, I mouth, “I love you too.” He gives me a curt nod like this is nothing new, and slings the strap across his shoulder. Letty grins up at me like an idiot, waving her phone. She must’ve taken a picture. My chest swells with happiness. Maybe I won’t let my bandmates down after all. Jillian saunters into the room, expression neutral. Except for her tapping foot, which she promptly stops when she notices me looking at it. I smile as I deepen the fills, drop a few bombs, throw in some linear licks along the way. Letty stands and plugs a mic into her monitor. She checks the sound while we keep the rhythm going. Only thing missing is our lead— A freshly showered Rax meanders into the parlor, lips pressed together, brows clenched. A water droplet spirals down one of his loose curls and stains his black shirt blacker. We should stop and let him find his place in the music. I hesitate, but Toombs shakes his head, urging me to continue playing. Rax’s rich scent fills my nose as he es my kit. God, the memories—from just a whiff of soap. But I doubt my reaction would be nearly as strong if Toombs hadn’t been a major part of those escapades in the hotel. He was the one who brought me to climax when the three of us were together. Not Rax. I’m afraid to look at Toombs, knowing his gaze follows Rax, but I do anyway. The joke’s on me. Toombs has me in his sights like we’re the only two people in the world. That sincere expression gives me a direct line to his heart. I hold on tight to his pulse. Rax picks up the instrument waiting for him on the other side of the room and slips the strap over his head. Guitar hanging at waist level, he walks to the window and forges a masterpiece out of nothing. Seriously, it’s like magic. A seductive, drawling melody, smooth as aged whiskey people probably drank in the courtyard behind this very house a hundred years ago. Swaggering, drunk, lazy. It’s pure Rax. No other word to describe it. He and Shades make eye . A call-and-answer segment evolves. Rax calls with a scramble of notes, and Shades replies with a quick run and slide. They repeat the pattern for several measures. The conversation is a work of art. Toombs wanders over and plays in front of me, his back to Rax. Another call issues from lead guitar. This time Shades doesn’t respond. My turn to give encouragement. Pointedly staring at Toombs, I jerk my head Rax’s way while maintaining the rhythm. Toombs’s grimace eases into neutral. He keeps his eyes on me for several measures, maybe searching for the same resolve I was only moments ago. Rax tries again. This time, Toombs answers with a simple but steady and strong riff. Just like him. He turns around, and the two guitarists engage in a tense but moving audio dance. Back and forth they go, like they have onstage a hundred times before, but today, the strain is palpable. The distance is obvious. The hurt is evident. But the first step in solving a problem is to acknowledge it. They might not have done it with words, but Toombs’s and Rax’s music makes it clear there’s at least a possibility for forgiveness on both sides, even if it’s not immediately forthcoming. That’s a badly needed breath of fresh air in this stifling crypt of misunderstandings, deception, and flat-out lies. In true Letty fashion, our lead singer breaks up the pity party with a shot of humor in the form of song: You’re cocked and loaded Ready to explode it I’ll yank your trigger Make that dick even bigger Blow me away Dirty roll in the hay Shoot right through me Page 82

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey Hurry up and do me Get your pork out so I can pull it When the hammer hits the bullet I’m coming fast Enjoy the blast Up against the wall In a bathroom stall No escape Not looking for a date Can’t let you go Wanna be your ho Cock me, baby I’ll suck your dick…Well, maybe She thrusts her hips suggestively at Shades, who flashes her a huge grin. A wave of relief soothes the tension in the room. Even Jillian cracks a smile. We jam on for another minute, and wrap the song with an anthem-style flourish. When the last echo of the cymbal choke dies, the five of us look around at each other. No one speaks for a long moment, but camaraderie and the promise of new beginnings sweetens the air. Big brass balls shining, Jillian comes forward and claps once as if to get our attention. “Okay, enough fun and games. You guys have a shitload of work to do. Rax and Letty, there’s Gatorade in the fridge. Drink it. Oh, and tame those lyrics into something usable. They’re cute, but not marketable. Jinx, I like what you did with that funky offbeat groove. I want you to explore more of that with Shades and make something bigger happen next trip through. Toombs…” She purses her lips and meets his eyes. “Carry on.” Letty fires off a bird behind Jillian’s back as she walks out. Rax heads for the kitchen. Shades resumes his seat on the velvet couch and messes around with some runs. Letty plops down on his knee, and he plays around her. That leaves Toombs and me. I stand, but he waves me back down. “Sit. You look good behind your kit.” I smooth the head of the nearest tom. “It’s nice to be back.” “Don’t ever doubt yourself, Gianna. You’re a fucking brilliant drummer.” “Really?” Coming from Toombs, this is the highest compliment I could ever get. Maybe it’s what I needed to hear all along. He reaches across the rack, shadowing the floor toms, and grasps my hand. “You put my ass to shame.” I frown. Now he’s jerking me off. “I mean it.” His tone is genuine, his eyes proud. He rounds the set and kneels before me on my throne. He drops his voice out of Letty’s and Shades’s earshot. “I don’t know how to be in love with you, but I am, so I’d better get used to it.” “You’re still in love with Rax too, and that’s not going away overnight, no matter how much he hurt you. So, let’s take it one beat at a time and focus on the present.” “Okay.” He scoots closer between my legs, and I hug him tight. He doesn’t even notice when Rax returns. In truth, neither do I. Step Twelve: , Spitters Are Quitters February 28 – New Orleans, Louisiana After three days of insane rehearsal, a brain-frying creative glut, and flaring tempers, Killer Buzz Float wraps a demo CD with nine songs. Tomorrow’s the big day when Jillian presents what we’ve done to Mr. Johnson at Megaphonia. We’re all on pins and needles, happy to be done, but anxious about the results. Aside from co-creating brilliantly crafted hooks and haunting harmonies, Toombs and Rax haven’t exchanged more than a few grunts and “yeahs.” Though Rax has kept a lid Page 83

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey on the drinking—at least as far as I can tell—he’s far from “fixed.” A dark storm lurks behind his eyes. I’m worried he’s heading for a snap. And if he does lose it, he’s proven many times that alcohol is his drug of choice. His number-one, go-to, quick-fixer-upper. Makes me sad to see him falling deeper into the spiral he created, but he’s the only one who can pull himself out. Letty, Shades, and Jillian are partying in the Quarter tonight, celebrating completion of the demo. Rax is in his room with the door shut. Toombs and I are taking advantage of the relative quiet. Not that I want Rax getting into more trouble, but selfishly, I kinda wish he’d leave so Toombs and I can cut loose. We haven’t had sex in days because of the exhausting schedule. I’m long overdue for relief, even if it requires additional detours away from my comfort zone. Lying naked on Toombs’s bed, facing each other, we’re right where I need us to be—sex or not. Toombs’s lids are heavy. His fist serves as an additional pillow for his head. He’s gorgeous, exposed, free. Mine. “Tell me something about you that I don’t know,” he says. “I was a chameleon in another life,” I answer. “But it was hard playing so many roles. I’m not qualified for all that, so I’ve decided on one color.” He purses his lips. “Red.” “Nope.” “Pink.” I shake my head. “Green.” I giggle. “Silver.” “That’s not a color. It’s a…tone or some shit.” “No?” I reach between his legs and tug the curved barbell through the head of his cock. “So this isn’t a color?” A grin melts his harsh features. His dick hardens in sync. I heft my breasts, angling the studded nipples upward. “Or this?” He dives into my boobs and tongues the metal, leaving lines of cooling saliva everywhere he touches. Definitely not sleepy anymore. I sweep his cheek and kiss his lids. “Or these beautiful eyes?” Toombs blushes. I’ve never seen him do that before. “Oh my God, are you embarrassed? I didn’t know such a thing was possible.” He tilts his gaze downward, black lashes taunting me with schoolboy charm. “They’re not silver. They’re gray.” “Now, gray is a tone. Silver is a precious metal. That’s what you are to me. Precious. Metal.” I snuggle in for a kiss, rounding my shoulders into the warmth of his tattooed arms. He obliges, gently lifting my thigh as our mouths mingle, dance, and chase. A finger diddles my clit. My moan disrupts our kiss. I’m still getting used to this whole domination thing, but it’s coming easier. “Keep doing that,” I instruct. “And tell me a secret about you.” His gentle pulls and wiggles form a groove I can totally dance to. “I got a perfect score on the SAT. And a full scholarship to UGA. Didn’t take it, though.” If I had a drink, I’d spit it all over him. “Are you serious?” He pauses his strokes. “Surprised?” “Well…yeah. I had no clue I was dating a freaking genius. I mean, musical genius, yes. Is that what you were going to study? Music?” “Math.” I smile. Of course, he’d be a math major. I rub his short hair. “Why didn’t you take the scholarship?” “Because I knew I could use numbers in better ways.” “Beats?” “Beats.” “I’m glad you decided against it. I might not have ever met you otherwise.” My phone chimes from the bedside table. Mikey’s face fills the frame. “Shit.” I jump out of bed, fumble into the T-shirt I threw on the floor earlier, flip my hair out of the neckline, and sit in the chair by the window. I hit the answer button. “Hey, Mikey,” I say. Page 84

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey Toombs sits up in bed, tattoos shadowed in the low light, trained on me like a sniper. He has my favorite predatory look in his eyes. The one that unleashes hordes of butterflies in my stomach. The one that protects what’s his. The one that’s going to get him laid as soon as this chat ends. “What are you doing up so late?” I ask. “You forgot to call again.” Mikey’s nasally voice is soft but not accusing. “Yeah. I suck for that. I’m sorry.” “I’m ready to play Beethoven for you.” I straighten as an excited chill seizes my skin. “Really? That was quick.” “I’ve been practicing.” “I’ll bet. I’m so proud of you, little brother. Will you play for me now?” It’s a 50-50 shot. I have to ask. “No.” “You did it last time, and the song wasn’t even done.” “I want you to come home and hear it in person where the acoustics are good.” I smile. “I’d love to. I promise I’ll be there whenever you schedule your recital.” “Next Saturday.” I panic a little. Only a week from now? I might not get paid before then. “That doesn’t give me much time to—” Toombs hops out of bed, shaking his head. He mouths, “Go.” “Actually, yeah. I’ll be there. No matter what. I told you I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I glance to Toombs. He’s right. I can put airfare on my credit card, regardless of the expense. Mikey’s worth it. “Who’s with you, Gianna?” “Just a friend.” “Why is your lip shaking?” Shit. I work my jaw to cover my embarrassment. “Didn’t know it was,” I lie. “Can I talk to your friend?” I can’t hide my shock. “Where does all this curiosity come from? You’ve never been interested in my buddies before.” The one time he met Letty, he clammed up and didn’t say a single word. Though, she kind of has that effect on people. “My teacher said I have to talk to someone new. For homework.” I get that he’s supposed to work on his social skills, but damn, he couldn’t have picked a worse person to try them out on. Toombs pads over to his shirt and slips it on. My ts tense. This isn’t a good idea. The tattoos will probably freak Mikey the hell out. “Uh…” Before I can stop him, Toombs appears behind me and leans into focus beside my head. Worries about the impending “meeting” are put on hold as I see our faces in the same frame for the first time. My jaw drops, and I rush to shut it. I’m awed by how Toombs and I look together—him slathered in ink and me so “clean” in comparison. On the outside, we’re night and day. Black and white. Demon and angel. But on the inside, we’re the same. “Hi,” Toombs says. Mikey’s expression doesn’t change. “Your friend’s a boy, Gianna.” I laugh and press the back of my hand to my mouth. He sure is. “This is Toombs. He plays guitar in Killer Buzz Float. He’s…a nice guy. Toombs, meet Mikey.” Mikey’s gaze shifts to Toombs. “Is he coming on Saturday?” I hold my breath. “Only if you want me to,” my man says. I face him, psychically projecting a Seriously? in his direction. He squeezes my leg out of the camera phone’s range. “Does he like piano?” My brother is so socially awkward, talking about Toombs as if he’s not here, but Toombs doesn’t seem fazed. Probably because he’s a bit socially awkward too. Then again, aren’t we all? “I like piano. And drums. And guitar,” Toombs says. Mikey considers for a moment. “He can come. I’ll see you Saturday. Bye, Gianna.” “Bye, little brother.” I smile as the screen freezes and then turn straight into Toombs’s approaching pucker. Ah, the softness. The tenderness. He claims my lips without being too bossy, yet he lets me know they belong to him now. Gentle pulls deepen our kiss, but no tongue. He’s too much of a gentleman for that. A hand wanders through my hair. He scoops me into his arms, maintaining the seal on Page 85

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey our kiss, and carries me to the bed. Our bed. At least for now. He lays me on the comforter like a precious doll and sweeps his gaze down my front. “I’ll book us two tickets to Atlanta tomorrow. I can’t wait to meet your brother.” “He’s special,” I say. “I know. He’s your brother.” “That’s not what I mean.” “Doesn’t matter. He belongs to you. That’s what makes him special.” I inhale a deep gulp of air and release it. “My parents will be there.” He nods. “Should be a good trip.” “Yeah, and I’m paying for my part of it.” “No, you’re not.” I sit up and try to sound forceful by exercising my Domme voice, which is actually kind of lame. “Yes. I am.” A slow grin smolders across his features. “Okay, how about you pay me back with sexual favors, Mistress?” Um, yes, please. “Are you mocking me, Jefferson? Because you know I’ll punish you for that.” His brow arches. “Then, yes. I’m absolutely mocking you, Mistress.” “We gotta come up with another term. That one makes me cringe. It brings to mind visions of me wearing a leather cap, a catsuit, and six-inch patent boots, topped off with a frayed whip.” “Now you’re just teasing.” He rubs his crotch. His erection taunts me. “What I wouldn’t give to see you dressed like that. Goddamn, Gianna.” I smile. “See, now every time you call me Gianna, I get a tickle between my legs. Why not use that instead? It could be your private little pet name for me as your Mistress, and I’ll know you’re using it with respect.” “Or to get you off.” His sexy, smug grin undoes me. My phone buzzes on the bed beside us. Damn it, what now? I pick it up. It’s a photo from Letty. Oh my God. Toombs and me on the throne at our first rehearsal in the house a few days ago. For the second time in a matter of minutes, I’m struck dumb by how we look as a couple. Right before she took this picture, I was scared shitless, uncomfortable, and downright nauseated. But like the Toombs and Jinx on video chat moments ago, in this image, we’re perfect. We fit together—all his parts matching mine, in sync, visually and spiritually in tune with each other. And our expressions—his relaxed face, chin resting lightly on my shoulder, and me fixated, filled with a little bit of surrender and a lot of determination—prove what I hoped all along. Despite our differences, or perhaps because of them, we’re good for each other. I can rely on him to be there when I need him, and he can do the same for me. With a little give and take, we’ll make this work. I tap the picture and save it to my phone’s camera roll. What a beautiful portrait of us as both lovers and as musicians. Definitely a keeper. A text follows, pushing the image further down the screen: Just found this when I was taking selfies of me blowing Shades in St. Louis Cemetery #1. Goddamn, this place makes my ass cheeks clench tighter than an old nun’s shriveled cooter, but hey, spitters are quitters, which makes me a winner. Consider that step 12 since I kinda fell down on my instructor responsibilities. Now, go fuck Toombs. And be sure to swallow! :-) Shaking my head at my friend, I flash the picture to Toombs. He takes the phone from me and studies it. A hint of pride sneaks into his eyes. “We make a good couple.” I can taste the cinnamon on his breath. It turns my head into a Tilt-a-Whirl. “We make a great couple.” I whip my shirt up and over my head once again, and snag the hem on his. Dragging it up his chest, I enjoy the scenery as each inch of his hot body is revealed. Never gets old. I paw at the colorful gun hanging at his hip and give it a quick lick. “Now, I have strict instructions from my teacher to give you the blowjob of your life, and I love a challenge. So tell me, Jefferson Toombs, are you ready to be used, abused, and generally taken advantage of for a couple hours?” He beams. “I could be down with that if you twist my arm.” I take his wrist and wrench it behind him, pressing my breasts against his chest in the process. He stifles a grunt. “Is that enough of a twist for you?” I say. “It’s a nice start.” He grins. I push him to the mattress and straddle his erection. Page 86

164920600-Beats-Kendall-Grey Heavy footfalls trudge down the hall toward our room. They stop for a moment, and the floor under the door darkens with the shadows of two boots. Rax. I sigh. A few seconds later, the steps pick up and march down the staircase. The front door opens and closes, and welcome silence ensues. Toombs takes my chin with his index finger and draws my attention back to him. “Be with me, Gianna. Only me.” Ah, the tickle again. I smile. “There’s no one else but you.” Eyes focused steadily on mine, he pulls me into the vortex of his kiss, and I forget about Rax. I surrender to him, knowing things are still not okay. They’re far from it. But there’s a lot of potential for goodness. I’m pretty sure Toombs is still in love with Rax. And if I’m honest with myself, maybe I am a little too. The three of us shared some intense, uncomfortable moments, but there was also tenderness. Even though it ended on a sad note, I’ll never forget how the two of them made me feel. How they freed me from my shell and showed me how to be happy with who I am and what I have, right here, right now. It’ll be a long time before Toombs forgives Rax. A long time before he gets over the guy who might’ve been the love of his life. Looking down at the harsh lines of his face tamed by my hair hanging around him, I’m okay with sharing a place in Toombs’s heart. I’ll never replace Rax. But I’ll be Toombs’s Gianna for as long as he’ll let me share his beats. About the Author Kendall Grey is the self-appointed past, present, and future president of the Authors Behaving Badly Club. A whale warrior and indie freedom fighter, she spends summers in the corner (usually with a dunce cap on her head) and winters hunched at the peak of Mt. Trouble, fiery pens of fury (complete with invisible ink) flying across the pages. She has a big set of cajones, and she’s not afraid to use them. In her spare time, Kendall speaks your mind so you don’t have to. Kendall lives off a dirt road near Atlanta, Georgia, but don’t hold that against her. Kendall’s Web Site Facebook Despicable Tweets

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