God
Am I picking you up?
Do I need to buy you more panties?”
I read the text and laugh as my cheeks heat. I think for a second before I reply.
“Lex
Yes, if you still want to, you’re picking me up.
Ready when you are.
‘Sexy Rock God’, really? Ego much?
And yes, you owe me a pair of panties. Those were my favorite pair!”
I wipe down the tables as I hum along to The Civil Wars playing over the speakers and wait for Jude to get here.
A few minutes later, another text comes through.
“Sexy Rock God
Be there in 10.
Hope you’re ok with the bike.
Yes ‘Sexy Rock God’. Don’t believe me? Just ask your BFF.
I’ll bring you a present. Can’t have you messing up my leather seat. ;)”
I laugh again and see Erik watching me with a slight smile on his face. I blow him a kiss. He pretend catches it and tucks it to his heart before winking at me and taking the next order.
I send one more reply.
“Lex
Bradi is insane. I listen to nothing she says.
I like presents.
And just think of it as ‘conditioning your seat’ ;)”
I wait for a reply, but nothing comes.
Eight minutes later, I see Jude’s bike pull up and I run to my office to grab my purse and blow Erik another kiss as I’m walking out the door. “I’ll text you later. See you at home.”
“Have fun, love. Be safe!”
I greet Jude at his bike and he looks so sexy straddling it, I grab his shirt and plant a hard, fast kiss on his lips, slipping my tongue in his mouth to brush against his for just a second, before slinging my leg over the bike, wrapping my arms around his waist, and holding on tight.
He turns to smile, as he hands me a helmet, revs the engine, and grabs my exposed thigh before calling, “You ready for the ride, baby?” He takes off fast.
All I can do is hang on.
Jude
I just saw her a few hours ago. Hell, I just touched her a few hours ago, but as soon as she walks out of the door, her shapely hips swaying under her skirt, and the knowledge that she isn’t wearing panties… my heart lifts up… so does something else, but my heart lifts almost out of my chest. It’s not normal for one woman to have so much power over my emotions. Not normal at all.
It takes us about fifteen minutes to get from Java and Sweeties to the River Center, where tomorrow night’s concert is being held. Traffic was always a bitch in Baton Rouge and it seems as if the population has tripled while the streets have shrunk since the last time I was home. We get there safely with only a few foul words being exchanged with other drivers and I pull around to the back.
I park the bike and help Lexi off, trying to shield her crotch from the roadies unloading the buses, who are already noticing her shirt clinging to her breasts and back in the sultry Louisiana heat.
She takes the helmet off and shakes her head, trying to give some semblance of order to her long wavy auburn hair. It looks like she just crawled out of bed after a session of good loving.
She makes me want to blow off this rehearsal and drag her to the nearest private spot I can find and bury myself in her. I tell myself I’m not rushing. We have all the time in the world, so instead I take her hand and we go into the blessed coolness of the air conditioned arena.
I’d forgotten how intense the Louisiana heat and humidity can be, even in September.
We make our way to the dressing room designated for Bayou Stix. I entwine her fingers with mine to stake some kind of claim as we walk down the hallway, since every man is staring at her as if she’s a cool drink of water in the middle of the desert.
It makes me feel good that she’s with me and they’re looking, but at the same time, I don’t want anyone to look. I just got her back; I want to place her in a bubble away from curious and leering eyes.
Just outside the dressing room door I pull her to a stop, and she looks at me expectantly. I press her back against the door, wrap her hair around my hands, and hold her face
Am I picking you up?
Do I need to buy you more panties?”
I read the text and laugh as my cheeks heat. I think for a second before I reply.
“Lex
Yes, if you still want to, you’re picking me up.
Ready when you are.
‘Sexy Rock God’, really? Ego much?
And yes, you owe me a pair of panties. Those were my favorite pair!”
I wipe down the tables as I hum along to The Civil Wars playing over the speakers and wait for Jude to get here.
A few minutes later, another text comes through.
“Sexy Rock God
Be there in 10.
Hope you’re ok with the bike.
Yes ‘Sexy Rock God’. Don’t believe me? Just ask your BFF.
I’ll bring you a present. Can’t have you messing up my leather seat. ;)”
I laugh again and see Erik watching me with a slight smile on his face. I blow him a kiss. He pretend catches it and tucks it to his heart before winking at me and taking the next order.
I send one more reply.
“Lex
Bradi is insane. I listen to nothing she says.
I like presents.
And just think of it as ‘conditioning your seat’ ;)”
I wait for a reply, but nothing comes.
Eight minutes later, I see Jude’s bike pull up and I run to my office to grab my purse and blow Erik another kiss as I’m walking out the door. “I’ll text you later. See you at home.”
“Have fun, love. Be safe!”
I greet Jude at his bike and he looks so sexy straddling it, I grab his shirt and plant a hard, fast kiss on his lips, slipping my tongue in his mouth to brush against his for just a second, before slinging my leg over the bike, wrapping my arms around his waist, and holding on tight.
He turns to smile, as he hands me a helmet, revs the engine, and grabs my exposed thigh before calling, “You ready for the ride, baby?” He takes off fast.
All I can do is hang on.
Jude
I just saw her a few hours ago. Hell, I just touched her a few hours ago, but as soon as she walks out of the door, her shapely hips swaying under her skirt, and the knowledge that she isn’t wearing panties… my heart lifts up… so does something else, but my heart lifts almost out of my chest. It’s not normal for one woman to have so much power over my emotions. Not normal at all.
It takes us about fifteen minutes to get from Java and Sweeties to the River Center, where tomorrow night’s concert is being held. Traffic was always a bitch in Baton Rouge and it seems as if the population has tripled while the streets have shrunk since the last time I was home. We get there safely with only a few foul words being exchanged with other drivers and I pull around to the back.
I park the bike and help Lexi off, trying to shield her crotch from the roadies unloading the buses, who are already noticing her shirt clinging to her breasts and back in the sultry Louisiana heat.
She takes the helmet off and shakes her head, trying to give some semblance of order to her long wavy auburn hair. It looks like she just crawled out of bed after a session of good loving.
She makes me want to blow off this rehearsal and drag her to the nearest private spot I can find and bury myself in her. I tell myself I’m not rushing. We have all the time in the world, so instead I take her hand and we go into the blessed coolness of the air conditioned arena.
I’d forgotten how intense the Louisiana heat and humidity can be, even in September.
We make our way to the dressing room designated for Bayou Stix. I entwine her fingers with mine to stake some kind of claim as we walk down the hallway, since every man is staring at her as if she’s a cool drink of water in the middle of the desert.
It makes me feel good that she’s with me and they’re looking, but at the same time, I don’t want anyone to look. I just got her back; I want to place her in a bubble away from curious and leering eyes.
Just outside the dressing room door I pull her to a stop, and she looks at me expectantly. I press her back against the door, wrap her hair around my hands, and hold her face
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