Everyone wanted to be Jaxon, rock star, except for me, Jaxon the rock star.
When I was a teen, writing songs, I thought this would be the life. I couldn't imagine taking any other path. What could be better than getting paid to perform my own songs for a living? What could be more awesome than groupies, and sex with groupies, and seeing the world?
Just about everything, I imagine. And I imagine a lot. What don't I do a lot? Write fresh music. Perform new songs. Enjoy sex with groupies.
This is why I would give my left nut to get out of my contract. Some days, I'd give both.
I want off this ride. As of yesterday. Unfortunately, I'm a cash cow for the label. They won't let me out of my contract for anything. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
Apparently, they anticipated such a move, which is how I ended up saddled with Eva. I took one look at her tight pencil skirt and couldn't decide whether she was here to torture me, tease me, or trap me for the next few years. This is how we ended up nose to nose, arguing. I couldn't decide if I wanted to kiss her or kill her, whether I wanted to fight her or fuyou get the idea.
So we had sex in the back of the bus, which was the most exciting twenty minutes of my life for quite some time, and she found decidedly meh. Lucky for me, she allowed me an encore performance to prove myself. I must've said something right because she not only agreed, but seemed to consider to make this an ongoing thing.
There were just two rules:
This had to be a secret.
I had to behave.
That seemed a small price to pay in order to find some joy in my captivity. I'd lost my muse, but I hoped to find her in Eva. This was the kind of woman rock stars wrote songs about. This was the kind of woman I'd give my heart to. This was the kind of woman I'd do anything to keep.
And that's how I ended up single. The emergency meeting, called part way through our fight, was how I ended up babysitting Jaxon, discontented rock star, and royal pain in my ass.
Next thing I knew, I was on tour, stuck on the bus with Jaxon, his bandmates, and Jaxon's ego. The tension was palpable, just like the erection pushing against his leather pants. We were struggling to establish dominance. I had the authority of the label. He had star power. We both had a temper.
And that's how we ended up in bed together in the back of the bus. In truth, he was the best sex I'd had in a long time. In reality, I was comparing him to a lawyer, my ex, and Fletcher had been ranked below every B.O.B. I'd ever owned, including the weird tongue flower.
Since this seemed to be my one bargaining chip, I took it and ran. We'd continue. He'd behave. And as long as this remained a secret and he behaved, my job was secure.
Only I forgot Fletcher was a sore loser. I'd ignored all the times he'd gleefully ruined anyone who crossed him. Apparently, things were going too smoothly. Or I seemed like I was having too much fun. All I knew was I'd been warned he was coming for me. And this time, I wasn't going to walk away unscathed. Worse, I'd lose the one person I never imagined could mean everything to me, Jaxon, the now content rock star.