Page 62 of Not So Goode
Which meant, if we wanted to make our show in Denver, we had to transfer whatever personal shit we needed off the bus, wait for the limos our manager Barnett had called in, and book it for Denver, and hope to fuck the rest of the crew and equipment made it there without further issue.
What time was it? Daylight, but not past noon. My phone was on the bus, and I didn’t wear a watch. But growing up with only the sun to tell time most days, I knew it had to be somewhere between midmorning and near noon.
During the transition of stuff and deciding what to do, Charlie had come out of the bus with Lexie in tow, and they were giggling and chatting and damn if they didn’t look alike, and sexy as hell. Lexie was wearing one of Myles’s workout cutoff shirts and, if I wasn’t mistaken, not a lot else. Confident in her skin, that one. Charlie was back in her clothes, black leggings and black V-neck T-shirt, and an open button down over it, unbuttoned. No bra. Perky tits pressed hard against the tight fabric, especially when she stretched languorously in the sunshine, arms overhead, shirt hem lifting to show her belly button.
Now why thefuckdid my heart go pitter-patter at that fuckin’ belly button? Who the hell has a belly button fetish? Not me. Yet the way she stretched, arching her spine inward, thrusting her breasts skyward, arms windmilling to meet palm-to-palm overhead, face turned to the sun…shirt lifting until the bottom swell of her breasts peeked out under the shirt and her belly button seemed to wink at me…Fuck, fuck. My heart thundered at the sight of her. I wanted to lick and kiss every inch of her skin, rub my beard all over her until her skin was pink.
Paint her with my sweat.
Mark her tits with my cum.
Bury myself in her mouth.
Pick her up and set her on my cock and fuck her till she screamed, till she passed out, and then wake her up with the smallest quietest tenderest kisses I could manage, and make love her to slowly and endlessly and softly.
“Gonna club her over the head and drag her to your cave, my man?” Myles muttered.
I came awake, out of my erotic reverie. Shook my head. Glanced at my best friend. “Huh?”
He chuckled. “I asked if you were gonna club her over the head and drag her to your cave.” Another glance, this one at the front of my jeans. “And, by the looks of that poor zipper…put, like, eight babies inside her.”
“That’s not how babies work, you idiot,” I grumbled, retorting on autopilot.
“Oh, so youareplanning on doing the caveman thing?”
He was still in his leather pants—or in them again—but shirtless and barefoot and wearing mirrored Oakleys, his short brown hair wildly mussed, as if certain fingers had yanked on it a whole lot last night. He was wearing the arrowhead necklace my mammy had made him that summer when we were kids and he was kicking it with me and River Dog and Mammy. Layered over that was a braided hemp necklace faded from having never been taken off, along with a woven plain black leather necklace also faded and worn. He had a small silver St. Christopher medallion on a silver chain, and a black-and-blue bandana folded and tied around his throat. He was every inch a rock star, the stupid beautiful fuck.
“No, I’m not clubbing her over the head,” I said, chuckling.
He eyed me. “She as sweet and innocent as she seems?”
I laughed. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Nah, that one’s all you.” His eyes followed Lexie as she played Hackey Sack with Zan who was, at his core, just a happy little granola stoner. And, yeah, wearing nothing but a cut-off T-shirt, Lexie athletically and vigorously playing Hackey Sack was…quite a sight. “Brother, that girl is…” He shook his head, a rough breath gusting out of him. “Didn’t figure there was a woman on the planet could keep up with me, but Lexie? Shit, man. She can damn near outdrink me, out-curse me, and out-fuck me. I’ve tangled with some wildcats in my day, as you know. But Lexie is…” He blew a disbelieving raspberry, head shaking again. “That girl is a motherfuckin’hurricane, man.”
I laughed. “Sounds like you got a tiger by the tail.”
He stretched, scratching his chest. “No kidding. Literally—she’s all teeth and tits and claws, man.” He showed me his back—scratches raked down his spine and bite marks adorned his shoulders.
I shook my head, laughing. “Damn, dude.”
He eyed me, then Charlie, then me again. “What?”
I frowned. “What, what?”
He indicated Charlie with a jerk of his chin. “You’re looking at her weird. Like, intense. Like if you take your eyes off her, she might vanish into a puff of smoke.”
I sighed. “She’s just…she’s complex, man.” I shook my head, not taking my eyes off Charlie as she laughed, leaning against the side of the bus, watching her sister play like a schoolgirl. “Not at all what she seems. I mean, she is, in some ways, but a whole hell of a lot more.”
He nodded. “Lex too. I was figuring this would be like what it usually is. Drop her off at the next stop and get her a plane ride back home, see ya, had fun. But dude, she’s…different. For as wild as she is in the sack, she’s…fuckin’ smart, man.” He rubbed his scalp again. “You know how I grew up, shit, you were with me for most of it. Neither of us got a lot of real schooling, you know? I ain’t dumb, you ain’t dumb, but those girls, man? They’re fuckin’, like, next level smart. Educated, articulate, and…”
“Sophisticated.”
He stabbed a finger in the air at me. “That’s the word. Lexie has this outward persona, this, like, thin layer of acting like a foul-mouthed wild child who doesn’t give a shit, does what she wants. It’s not fake; it’s all her, all real. But there’s a whole hell of a lot more.”
I eyed him skeptically. “Wait, you did more than just bone?”
He made a baffled, shocked face, scrubbing his cheeks with both hands as if to wake up. “Would you believe we spent more time just talking than we did anything else? Legit, you are the only other person I’ve ever talked to that much all at once, ever.”