“Yeah.” His eyes flick to the clock. “I need to get home anyway.”
“Home to the wifey,” Tom says, grinning. “I was gonna suggest we all go out for a beer.”
“No can do.” Smith unplugs his guitar from the amp and puts it in its stand. “My folks are down from Tennessee for a few days, and we’re taking them out for dinner.”
Tom shrugs, then turns to me and Denny. “What about you two fuckers? You up for a drink?”
“Sure,” I say with a nod. “Just let me call Tru.” I pull my cell out of my back pocket.
“Are you calling for permission? You do realize that you are officially more pussy whipped than lover boy over there.” He nods in Denny’s direction.
“Yeah, but Simone is in London, so he’s not hard to beat. And no, I’m not calling for permission, fuck-wad. It’s called being in a relationship.”
“I never thought I would see the day that Jake Wethers would be bending over for a woman.” Tom grins, putting his bass in its case.
“Love, man. It’ll get you one day,” Smith says.
“Not fuckin’ likely!”
“Smith,” Denny says, “aside from the fact there is no woman stupid enough to want to settle down with Tom, do you really think we’ll ever see the day he’ll be satisfied with sticking his dick in one chick for the rest of his life?”
“Point taken.” Smith grins in Tom’s direction. “I take it back.”
“Damn fuckin’ right! There’s more than enough of the cat to go around. Why deny all of those women the pleasure of Tom? I’m generous to a fault, and I share myself around accordingly. And since the snake took himself off the market, the demand on my cock has doubled. Someone’s gotta keep all the chicks happy now that he’s a one-woman man.” He grabs his crotch, grinning.
I let out a laugh. “You’re more than welcome to them, man.”
Tom pauses and looks at me like I’m some fucking puzzle he can’t work out. “Seriously, dude. Tru must be an awesome lay to keep your interest for this long. That or the rack. It’s the rack, isn’t it? It’s gotta be the rack.” He puts his hands to his chest, sizing out a pair of tits. “I’ve never seen a pair that big that are actually real. They would seriously keep my attention for a long time. Not as long as you, but fuck…do you just sit and stare at them all day? I seriously would.”
“You’re obsessed with tits!” Denny laughs, tapping his drum with the stick.
“I appreciate great tits, and Tru has great tits. I’m also enjoying winding up pussy fucker over there.”
I’m taking it he’s referring to the scowl on my face. I give him a look and reach over to switch off the amps. “Keep talking about my girl’s rack like that, and you’ll need an expensive fuckin’ dental surgeon after I’ve knocked all your teeth out.”
The motherfucker winds me up to no end when he talks about Tru like that. He’s right—she has got great tits—but I don’t want him going on about them. He is the only one I would let get away with comments like that for this long. I’d have knocked anyone else out by now.
“Don’t get your panties all in a twist, I’m just yanking your chain.” Tom pats me on the shoulder. “Den, you up for that beer?”
“Got nothing better to do.” He climbs out from behind his kit.
“I’m out of here. Catch you fuckers later,” Smith says, heading for the door. “Oh, Jake,” he adds, turning back, “my old lady asked if you and Tru want to go out for dinner after my folks leave on Friday.”
“Sounds good. I’ll check with Tru and let you know.”
“Cool, I’m outta here. Catch you all tomorrow.”
I’m real glad Smith’s wife suggested a night out. I know Tru is missing Simone, and I know she’d never say it, but she’s lonely for female company. I think she’d get on real well with Carly; she’s a cool chick.
“I’m gonna call Tru. I’ll meet you two idiots in the car in a few.”
I head out of the studio, walking toward my office, calling Tru as I go.
“Hey, baby,” she coos down the phone.
God, she sounds so fucking sexy. I love her voice. Especially when it’s screaming out my name while I’m inside her.
“Hey, beautiful. Before I forget, Smith’s wife invited us out for dinner on Friday. You up for that?”
“Sounds like fun. I’m in. So when are you coming home?” She turns the sexy voice on, and I feel it all the way down to my cock. “I bought this tub of cookies-and-cream ice cream earlier, and I was thinking when you get home, we can take it to bed, and you could maybe…eat it off me. You can blindfold me again too, if you want.”
If I want. Is she serious? Right now, I want nothing more.
I groan in my pants. Walking into my office, I close the door behind me and readjust my cock. “Fuck, baby, you’ve made me hard.”
“That was kinda the point.” I can practically hear her salacious smile.
“Good job I’m alone, then.”
“That as well,” she says, giggling. “So how long will you be?”
Staring down at my hard-on, I’m torn between that and going out with the boys. I blow out a breath, letting my head fall back against the door, knowing Tom will never let me live it down if I blow them off to go home to my girl. “That’s why I was calling. I just said I’d go out with the boys for a beer.”
“Oh.”
I hear her disappointed tone loud and clear. It cuts me.
“If I don’t go, I’ll never hear the end of it from Tom,” I explain.
“It’s okay, baby, I understand. You should go out with the boys. I take up too much of your time as it is. I’m just disappointed I have to wait a little longer to see you is all.”
“I want you to take up all my time.”
I hear her breathing down the line. “Me too. Now go have fun with the guys. I’ll be here waiting for when you get back.”
“With the tub of ice cream?”
“Most definitely.”
I smile. “What will you do while I’m out?” I hate to think of her there, all alone.
“I might call Stuart, see if he’s free to watch a movie.”
“Call? He lives a fucking stone’s throw from us, lazy-ass.”
She giggles. I fucking love that sound.
“I’m lazy and proud of it! What can I say?”
“Say you love me.”
“I love you,” she breathes. And I feel it everywhere, almost like her pretty little hands are running all over me right now.
“Love you more.”
“Not possible.”
“No?” I smile. “I’ll show you later exactly how much I love you.”
A bang on the door frightens the shit out of me, and then Tom’s loud voice booms. “Come on, motherfucker! Stop whispering sweet nothings to Tru and get your tardy ass out here and in the car. I’m fuckin’ dying for a drink!”
Shaking my head, laughing, I say, “Gotta go, baby, the boys are waiting. I’ll see you later.”
I hang up with Tru, and when I get to the car, Tom and Denny are in the back waiting.
“Where to?” Dave asks, pulling out of the parking space.
I look over my shoulder at Tom and Denny.
“Déjà-fuckin’-vu!” Tom grins.
“No fuckin’ way, man! I’m not going to a strip joint. If Tru finds out, she’ll kick my ass.”
Tom rolls his eyes. “Okay, Crazy Girls.”
“I said no strip joints.”
“It’s not a strip joint. It’s a respectable establishment.”
“It’s a bikini bar.”
“Exactly. Tits and ass all covered. Tru can’t get pissed about that.”
“No way.” I shake my head.
“Stop being such a pussy!” Tom exclaims. “You do still have a dick in there, don’t you?” He nods in the direction of my pants.
“I’m with Jake on this one, man,” Denny chips in. “No strip joints or bikini bars,” he adds just as Tom opens his mouth to start up again. “Let’s just go to a normal club.”
“For fuck’s sake! You’re a right pair of boring bastards! I expect this shit from him”—he jerks his head in Denny’s direction—“but you, man,” he says to me, “I’m disappointed, and also a little gutted. I’ve well and truly lost my wingman. I might as well be on fuckin’ date night with Stuart, being with you two. Next thing you’ll say is let’s go to a gay bar because there’re no women there.”
“There’re usually more women in gay bars than normal bars,” Denny adds.
Tom’s eyes light up.
“No fuckin’ way!” I cut him off before he can speak. “We are not going to a gay bar.”
Turning to Dave, I say, “Take us to Graphics.”
Dave pulls up outside Graphics and climbs out with us, giving the valet the keys to the car.
Graphics is a celeb haunt that used to be a favourite of ours. Especially Jonny. I have a lot of memories of this place.
Good and bad.
“Mr. Wethers, it’s been a while, good to see you again,” the host says as we approach the door. “You should have called ahead and we’d have secured your booth for you.”
“It was a last-minute thing.”
“Let me see what I can do for you.” He starts speaking quickly into his headset.
I hate this shit. It used to be cool when these idiots wanted to pander to me, but it got old, real fast. Now I wish I could hit a club without having to announce my arrival first, so that it doesn’t become some major fucking issue if I don’t.
“Look, don’t sweat it,” I say, when I see him talking into the headset. “Just sit us anywhere. The boys and me just wanna have a quiet drink.”
He looks at me, unsure, then nods. “Okay, we have a table ready for you now, please follow me.”
We follow him through the club to the VIP section.
I nod to a few people I know as I pass through.
I slide into the booth, and the waitress is at our table a second later.
She’s all tits and ass. The outfits here leave little to the imagination. I forgot that.
I used to like this shit. Used to love seeing women wearing as little clothing as possible.
Now with Tru, I get just as turned on seeing her in a pair of jeans and T-shirt as I do those sexy miniskirts she wears.
She always looks hot to me.
I order a round of beers for us and settle back in my seat.
Tapping my fingers on the table, wishing I’d had a smoke before I came in here, I see Jase Collins heading toward our table.
Jase Collins. Small-timer in the music industry. Big-timer in the drug scene. And once upon a time, one of my regular dealers.
Fuck.
“Been a while,” he says, leaning up against our table.
“Not long enough,” I reply dryly.
He laughs.
