Текст книги "Untamed"

Автор книги: S. C. Stephens

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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 29 страниц)

Anna sighed too. “So in two months, I’ll see you?”

“Milfums…it’s temporary, you know that.”

“I know…Dilfums. Kill it today, okay? Then hurry home to me. I am so bored here without you. Carl can be entertaining at times, but he’s not you.”

I forced myself to laugh at her comment. “Yeah, I know he’s not…no one is. I gotta go, babe, I’m getting called on set.” I cringed as Anna said goodbye and hung up the phone. The bartender gave me a raised eyebrow but thankfully didn’t comment on my obvious lie. Since I had nowhere to go for another eight hours, I ordered another beer. Damn it. How long could I keep avoiding my life?

Around midnight, I made my way home. I felt like shit when I walked through the door. This sucked. I’d been poised for greatness, and now my life no longer had direction. The only thing in front of me was a looming deadline of the shit hitting the fan, and I’d always sucked with deadlines. I had no clue what to do, and I wasn’t used to that feeling.

Since childhood, I’d always known what my destiny was—fame. And once I’d found the D-Bags, I hadn’t questioned my life or the road I was on. I’d known I was on a skyrocket to success, and all I’d had to do was stay the course. But then I’d gotten there and realized it wasn’t what I’d thought it would be. It was like my path had been parallel to the path I’d wanted, so I’d gotten off it. And now that I was off that path, for the first time ever, I was questioning my choices, and I was beginning to wonder if my view of that original path had been skewed. Maybe it hadn’t been so bad after all. Maybe I could still climb back onto it? All I needed was a hand to help me up…

Without allowing a moment to second-guess myself, I headed to the kitchen and picked up the phone to make a call. I dialed a number that I hadn’t dialed in ages, and when a familiar voice answered, I had to swallow the knot blocking my throat. Then I wrapped myself in an armor of nonchalance. This was no big deal. Yes, it was. “Hey, Matt…good you’re up. It’s me, Griffin.” There was silence on the other end for so long that I almost thought he’d hung up on me. “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here. Although I’m wondering why. I should hang up right now and block your number.”

The frostiness in his voice got under my skin, but I did my best to ignore it. “Are you still cross with me for decking you? Is that why you snubbed me at your wedding? Come on, man. That was forever ago.”

“Decking me? You think I’m mad about…?” I heard a deep inhale, then a long exhale. “What do you want, Griffin?”

Closing my eyes, I said a quick Let this work prayer. “Just wondering if you’d found a bassist yet. I’ve got some time to kill…so if you need anybody…” Please take me back.

Matt scoffed. “Are you kidding me? You’ve got time to kill, so you want back in…since you’ve got nothing better going on right now? Unbelievable.” He let out a humorless laugh. “What happened to your show? Your shot at stardom, since apparently being in a successful band wasn’t stardom enough for you.”

The truth was too horrible to say, so I told a creative lie. “They’re restructuring, and it may be a while before it goes on air.”

“Restructuring? I heard the studio dropped it. That bad, huh?” He let out another unamused laugh. His comment surprised me though. I didn’t realize that news was out there. Fuck, if Anna heard about it…

“You checking up on me?” I asked, my fear making me defensive.

“Nope, someone just happened to mention to me that it crashed and burned, and since you’re calling me begging for your old job back, I’m guessing that rumor was true. Must have sucked pretty badly if it didn’t even make it to the air.” His voice was so condescending, a chill of indignation went down my spine. Sanctimonious asshole.

“I wasn’t calling for my job back, jerkoff, I was just calling to get some intel on you guys.”

“Right. You’re just spying on us, to see how we’re doing?”

“Exactly. I’m curious about my competition.” Even as I said it, I knew this was where my path had been directing me all along. I was born to be on the stage, surrounded by thumping music and glaring lights. Movies and TV weren’t my destiny. Being a rock star was. I’d always known that, I’d just forgotten it for a moment or two.

Matt’s voice was dubious when he responded. “Competition? You’re going to put out an album?” He started laughing, and there was humor in it this time. A lot of humor. It only vindicated my decision. Yes, this would fix everything.

“What do you know about putting together an album, Griffin? In fact, what do you know about music at all? You never paid attention to anything we did. Ever! Your entire career with us was based on us doing all the work so you could goof off.”

His words were soaked in truth, but they incensed me anyway. “Someone had to lighten the mood. What with all the brooding and melancholy and seriousness…I’m the reason people liked us and liked coming to our shows. Because I’m the only one who knew how to have some fucking fun! And I know plenty about music. You just watch, cuz. Because I’m about to impress the shit out of you.”

I hung up the phone before he could give me some lame-ass response. Smiling for the first time in what felt like days, I headed to my office to get started on lyrics. Fuck them. Fuck them all. I would do just what Harold said—dust myself off and keep going. And if I couldn’t join those fuckers, then I would beat them.

Chapter 17

Awesome Strikes Back

Having a little purpose while I was “working” during the day made some of my hope and good humor return. While I killed time in bars or diners, I started writing down lyrics. I figured it wouldn’t take me too long to have a handful of awesome songs. I mean, Kellan came up with them all the time. A huge part of me wanted to tell Anna my news, wanted to stop the charade of filming Acing It every day and start bouncing ideas off her, but I couldn’t yet. I couldn’t tell her I’d been deceiving her in such a big-ass way that the fib I’d told her about the pilot now seemed like an innocent little white lie. I couldn’t tell her anything until I had a contract with a record label under my belt. A killer contract that would ease all of her worries. She’d still be mad at me for breaking her trust again, but maybe then she wouldn’t kill me.

Songwriting was more time-consuming than I thought it would be, and I found myself doing it all the time, even on the rare occasions when I was home with Anna and the girls. Like one Saturday afternoon, when I was in my office trying to come up with lines that were intriguing and thought-provoking. What I was writing down though was closer to fifth-grade poetry. Dirty fifth-grade poetry. “Roses are red, violets are blue, let’s strip off these clothes so I can do you.” Direct and to the point. Sounded good to me. I circled it in red—a keeper.

By the time the afternoon melted into evening, I had enough keepers for an entire song. Ha! Kellan acted like coming up with lyrics was challenging, but this shit wasn’t so hard. It flowed out of my mind as easily as beer down my gullet…whatever the fuck a gullet was. Wanting a drink now, I yelled over my shoulder, “Alfred! Beer me!”

“Yes, sir,” came his response. I knew he’d been close.

Alfred returned while I was scribbling down more masterpieces. He set the bottle on my desk, and I instantly wrapped my fingers around the cold glass. I couldn’t pull it toward me though, because he was still holding on to it. “Dude, if you’re expecting a thanks, think again. I don’t thank people I pay.” I glanced up, but it was Anna standing in front of me, holding my drink hostage.

“I know,” she replied. “And I still think you should. Even though you do pay them an obscene amount of money, it’s the decent thing to do.”

Sitting up in my chair, I told her, “I’ve never been decent. You know that.”

She crooked a small smile, then glanced at my desk. “What have you been doing up here all day?”

I’d been transferring all of my good lyrics onto one page. Wondering what she would think about them, I held the page up to her. “I’ve been writing a song.”

Her face instantly transformed from curious to almost euphoric. “Oh, Griffin, that’s great news. Is it for the band? Did you call Kellan or Matt? Did you guys patch things up?”

I froze with the piece of paper still in the air. Shit. I hadn’t expected her to leap to that conclusion. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about having to give her a reason for writing a song. Wrapped up in my project, I’d forgotten that Anna was in the dark…about a lot of things. So, what should I tell her? The truth? That I was working on getting a record contract of my own? No, she wouldn’t understand why, since she thought the show was still going. And without a contract, I couldn’t come clean, but…the show was about a rock star. Knowing fate had laid the perfect lie in my hands, I told her, “No…it’s for the show. They’re letting me write Ace’s stuff. Pretty awesome, huh?” Fuck.

She pursed her lips, but then smiled. Coming around my desk, she plopped herself onto my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. She leaned in, squeezing her breasts into my face. “Oh, I was hoping you and the band were getting back together. But this is good too. It’s just, it’s been so stressful with everyone broken up…like my parents have gotten divorced or something. You don’t even come home anymore when Kiera and the girls visit.”

I pulled away so I could look up into her face. “I’m not getting back together with them, Anna. Ever. I wrote this song for me. For my band.” Not wanting her to read too much into that, I amended with “My TV band, anyway.”

Her smile fell. “Yeah, your TV band.” She shook her head. “Griff, I know you’re excited about this show, but why don’t you go back to them? Kiera tells me they haven’t found a replacement yet, and Matt is itching to start another album since the last one…didn’t do as well as expected. I’m sure if you called him and apologized…Maybe you could do both? The show and the band?”

My gut started clenching at her suggestion. I tried that. But Matt shot me down, belittled me. No, going back wasn’t an option anymore. “Apologize? For what? I didn’t do anything wrong. Those assholes shoved me in a box, and when I tried to get out, they tried locking it. That shit doesn’t work on me though. I need freedom.”

She clamped her mouth together so hard, I could see the muscles in her jaw tighten. I wasn’t sure if she’d taken my comment personally or if she was upset that I still wouldn’t consider it. I was just about to tell her that I didn’t mean her when she shook her head and said, “Okay, so…the show is going to let you write songs? Maybe I can help you?” She looked over at my lyrics again, reading them this time. She frowned. “Please tell me this isn’t one of them.”

I released the paper, letting it float to the desk. “What’s wrong with that song? It’s awesome.”

Her eyes drifted over the sheet. “I’ll make you moisty, you’ll be so tasty.” She shook her head. “One…that’s gross. Two, it doesn’t even rhyme. Three…I’m pretty sure they won’t play it on TV.”

Wishing I could defiantly cross my arms over my chest, I shrugged. “I like the song, if they don’t play it, then they’re stupid.”

Closing her eyes, Anna dropped her head into her hands and started shaking it. “Oh boy,” she muttered. “I hope they know what they asked for when they asked you to write lyrics.” She opened one eye at me. “How is everything going, by the way? On the show, I mean.”

The suspicious look in her eyes made my body stiffen in alert, like I was about to be attacked. Did she know something? No, she’d be a lot angrier if she knew something. “Fine…great.”

She opened both eyes and frowned. “Are you sure? Because there are these rumors circulating online that the show was cancelled. I haven’t put much stock in it, because you’ve been working so hard, but it keeps popping up. And all I can find when I look for news on the show is bad stuff.” She narrowed her eyes and scanned my face like she was searching for the truth in my reaction. Fuck. Goddamn Internet.

My heart was thudding, but I managed to keep my expression as blank as possible. I know nothing. “I don’t know what to tell you, babe. News is crap. But trust me, the show is still going, we’re all working hard, and everything is fine. Just fine.” Or at least it will be, once I have a record deal in place and don’t have to lie to you anymore. I really fucking hate lying to you. But I hate letting you down even more.

She frowned but nodded. “Well, maybe we should think about downsizing…at least until the show airs.”

I glanced around at my mansion of all mansions and shook my head. “No, you’re a queen, and you should live like one. And besides, I’m going to be huge, so I should act like it. If I go into this timidly, all scared and shit, I’ll never amount to anything. No…bigger and better…maybe I’ll hire even more people to have around here, to do stupid stuff like…paint all the flowers different shades of green…” The least I could do was keep her surrounded by the finest things in life. She deserved that and so much more.

Anna immediately put her hands on my chest. “Please don’t. We’re fine just the way we are.”

I studied her for a moment, then conceded. Considering that I didn’t have a contract yet, that was probably good advice. But once I did, all bets were off. I was spoiling her rotten. “Okay, but the minute I think you’re not being lavished with enough, I’m hiring someone to dote on you.”

With a seductive half smile, she ran a fingernail down my cheek. “But the only person I want doting on me is you…and you’re gone so often, that doesn’t happen much anymore. I’m lonely.”

Recognizing her words as a green light for fun, my cock instantly sprang to life. I pulled her more firmly into me lap, letting her feel it. “I’m here now, baby, and I can dote on you all night long. You just tell me what you want.”

“I want you to rip off all my clothes, spread me out over a desk again, and fuck me so hard I can’t stand straight.” My dick started throbbing at her words. But that was nothing compared to her next ones…“But before you do all that…I want to taste you this time.” With that, she stood up, shifted my swivel chair, and sank to her knees.

“Fuck, yes,” I stated, undoing my jeans as quickly as I possibly could. I probably shouldn’t do this, since I was being a lame-ass fuck and keeping so much from her, but damn it, she needed this too. Just like she’d said, she was lonely. Turning her away would only fuck us up even more.

By the time my pants were around my ankles, my cock was straight and proud, the piercing in the top shining in the bright light of the lamp on my desk. Anna made a purring noise as she ran her finger along the metal; every nerve ending in my dick sizzled with pleasure where the piercing rubbed against me.

“So hot,” she said in a throaty exhale. “I can’t wait to have you inside me.” I didn’t know if she meant her mouth or her pussy. Either one was fine with me.

Her lips wrapped around me as she took me into her mouth, sucking me deep inside. A panting groan escaped me as she stroked me; she didn’t even have to use her hands. She played with my balls instead, and I had to grab the armrests of my chair. The throbbing, tingling, burning ache was so delicious—my entire body felt like I was being jolted with electric bolts of ecstasy. Over and over and over, to the rhythm of her mouth pulling me deeper and deeper.

Letting my head fall back, I reveled in the erotic delight. “Fuck, yes, Anna. Just like that…don’t stop.”

She moaned, and the vibrations along my skin nearly undid me. I started moving my hips, meeting her lips thrust for thrust. I didn’t know if she was going to let me finish, but I hoped so, and I repeated, “Don’t stop…” Let me come.

She moved against me harder, and I knew she wasn’t quitting. I could feel the buildup approaching, and I did nothing to stop the sensation. Fuck, I wanted this so bad. Almost like she could feel my rising desire, Anna squeezed my balls at the exact right moment to send me over the edge. “Oh fuck…yes…” I groaned as I came. Both her mouth and her hand turned soothing instead of urging, prolonging my orgasm. God, damn…

When she finally pulled away, leaving me spent, gasping and tingling with residual lapping waves of pleasure, her smile was devilish. “My turn, baby,” she stated, slipping off her skirt.

She started to pull down her underwear, but I reached up to stop her. “Nuh-uh. You requested that I rip your clothes off.” Grabbing the scant material at her hips, I pulled them down her lean legs. Seeing what I wanted made my cock start coming to life. I ripped her top off, followed by her bra, then, with a mighty shove, I knocked everything off my desk. After plopping her on top of it, I urged her to lie back, then I propped her legs over my shoulders, and dove in to taste just how much she wanted me.

She grabbed my head, holding me there while an erotic cry echoed around the room. “Oh God, Griffin…yes, yes, fuck yes, that feels so good!” My cock hardened with every moan coming from her, and I was ready for more by the time she was falling apart beneath me. I let her finish, because I was a firm believer in tit for tat, but the minute her orgasm spiked, I pulled my mouth away so I could thrust into her.

She gasped as I entered her. “Yes, I’m still…oh, fuck, yes…fuck me!”

Her orgasm lasted a fucking eternity, and when it finally ended, mine erupted again. I slumped over her, well and truly satisfied. She held my head to her chest, our bodies still connected. While our breaths returned to normal, I noticed the spilled beer near her head. Damn, and I could really use a drink right about now. I was thirsty as hell. Curious, I shouted out, “Alfred! I need another beer!”

His response was instant, and it came from right outside the open door. “Yes, sir.”

Anna laughed, then poked me in the ribs. Guessing what she wanted, I shouted, “Make that two, Alfred. The misses is parched too.”

“As you wish, sir,” was his calm reply.

I laughed as I resettled myself on Anna’s chest. I fucking loved having a butler. But having Alfred was nothing compared to making my wife happy. I just hoped I could keep her that way and prayed with everything inside me that I got a deal soon.

Once I had a song that was worthy of being a G. Hancock original, I needed to record a demo of it so I could start shopping myself around to record labels. Because I didn’t know where else to go, I visited my old recording studio, where the first D-Bags album was recorded. The fee to use the place for just an hour was fucking ridiculous, but I paid it and scheduled a time to come in. Money was no object when fame was on the line.

All the original guys were still working there when I showed up—what’s his name, and that guy. The dude mixing the sound was different though, since the studio had brought in some exclusive talent for our first album, but the guy on staff helped me figure out what to do, which I appreciated.

When it was my turn to go up, I recorded the song that Anna had turned her nose up at. I had to. It was awesome coated in awesome, and the best thing I’d come up with. I didn’t have any sort of beat though, so I just made my own noises—beatbox style. It totally worked with the song though. In fact, it was so cool, I decided I might use it on the final album.

Once I got some copies in my hands, I started mailing them to record labels. I didn’t even call to ask if they wanted them. I just found their address online and mailed them a copy. Then I sat back and waited for the offers to roll in.

Since I was feeling great about my options, I Express mailed Denny a copy to give him the first crack at representing me. With it, I sent a note that said, “I’m about to get a dozen offers for this shit, but if you want in on my millions, find me a deal that blows everything else out of the water. You do that, and I might pay you forty percent—because there is no way in hell I’m paying you fifty!”

He called me the minute he received my care package. “Um…Griffin…what in the world did you just send me?”

“Oh, hey, Denny. That’s my demo for my solo album. I’m sure it’s some sort of conflict of interest for you to represent me as well as the Douchebags, but I’m throwing you a bone. Who knows, you might want to drop them for me. Personally, I think I’ll do better. Or maybe you can keep representing them and I’ll take Abby.” I let out a low laugh, thinking of Denny’s wife waiting on me hand and foot. “Yeah…I like that idea.”

“Whatever thought you just had about my wife, clear it, before I fly down there and scrub it out of you.”

“Whoa, relax, dude. It was just a suggestion. You’ve been hanging around Matt too much. You’re all…uptight and shit.”

He sighed. “Things haven’t exactly be running smoothly lately. Not that you care, but you sort of left a mess behind when you took off.”

Chewing on my lip, I wondered if I wanted to know what he was talking about. Curiosity got the better of me. “Like what?”

“You don’t follow entertainment news at all, do you?”

I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. With people giving me shit about leaving the band, then all the rumors floating around about the TV show—rumors I didn’t want to deal with right now—I sort of avoided everything. It was strange for me, since before all this I’d Googled my name daily. “No.”

Denny sighed again. “Well, let’s just say, between Matt and the fans, finding a replacement bassist has been challenging. At this rate, there might not ever be another album.”

Surprise washed over me, followed very closely by an uncomfortable feeling that was akin to having a knife in my gut being twisted around in a circle. I shoved the sensation to the very back of my brain. Their problems weren’t mine, and I didn’t have time to dwell on them. Hardening my stomach, I told him, “Well, good. You’ll have more time to represent me then.”

He scoffed at my answer. “That’s all you have to say? Good? They’re floundering, and you don’t care? These guys have been your friends—your family—since day one, Griffin.”

Matt’s words pounded around my brain—You’re dead to me. “No. We’re not like that anymore, and I don’t have to give a shit now. Are you gonna represent me or not?”

His answer was quiet but firm. “No…Abby and I won’t represent you, Griffin. You’re on your own.”

“Fine,” I said, hanging up the phone. I preferred being on my own anyway.

That evening, Anna and I were in our bedroom getting ready for dinner; my parents were coming over with Chelsey and the girls. Anna was pulling up a pair of lacy tights, while I was still sitting on our bed, naked. How Anna could look at me without jumping me was impressive. I would have caved ages ago.

“So,” she said, giving me a coy look. “I don’t mean to badger you, but I heard another rumor about the show today…and this time it was from one of the cast members. Cole, I think? Rumor is he’s working on a movie right now…I even saw pictures.” She twisted her brows in confusion.

My muscles all clenched and my face felt on fire, like someone had just set a torch over me; I got this way whenever Anna brought up the show, when I was reminded of the monumental lie I was nearly drowning in, it was so deep around me. What would she believe? “Oh, yeah, that fucker left a few weeks ago. They killed his character off…that episode is going to blow people’s minds.” My aptitude at lying was blowing my mind, and sickening my stomach. But it was just a little longer, and then I could come clean. Once I was firmly on the path to success again, with no chance of failing, then I could tell her absolutely everything.

Pulling the tights over her bright red underwear, she showed me her ass before adjusting her skirt. I instantly felt a little better. Do that again. “Huh…that’s kind of weird that’s it already out there that he’s on another job. Acing It is still set for January, right?”

The shape of her ass outlined in that flimsy red material replayed through my mind. Anna crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips. She must have said something I was supposed to listen to. “What, babe? I was distracted.”

She pointed to my growing chub. “Yeah, I see that.” With a sigh, she put on a red, clingy top. Oh yeah, Daddy likey. “I was just…worrying. I mean, when are they going to pay you?” With apprehension on her face, she looked around our massive bedroom. “I’ve been checking the bank accounts, and not much has come in recently…but a lot is going out. We can’t stay here forever like that, Griff. Not until they pay us. Every month our bank account gets so much smaller…”

By her expression, this was something she’d been worrying about for a while. It had crossed my mind a time or two as well, but I always shoved the thought away. Once I had a contract and my album released, I would triple that shit in no time. Acting was never for me…music was my real strength. I knew that now. Denny was an idiot for letting me go. “We’ve got at least enough for six months, babe, and by then the show will be a smash. No problem.”

She snapped her gaze to mine. “No, we won’t make it six more months, Griff. Between this house, our place in Seattle, utilities, groceries, all the people you’ve hired…we’ll be broke long before the show airs. Maybe we can hold out until spring, if we start being smart and tighten things up now.”

She was overreacting. I wasn’t good with money, but I was sure we still had plenty of it. Standing, I walked over to her and grabbed her forearms. Massaging her, I soothingly said, “We’ll be fine, but if it will make you feel better, I’ll start being more careful with our money. Maybe let some of the staff go.”

A weak smile played across her lips, but it died almost instantly. “I’ve noticed something disturbing.” My heart instantly started pounding in my chest. No…I wasn’t ready for her to know that I’d been lying yet. I needed a contract before that happened—a shield. That was the only way she’d forgive me. Anna studied my face for a second, then slowly said, “We’re not getting any royalties from the band. Nothing. I almost called Denny about it, but…do you know why we’ve been cut off?”

I scratched my head. Great, I hadn’t anticipated her discovering that. How did I answer without her killing me…or calling Denny to verify? Fuck. I had to tell her what I’d done. Goddammit. “Yeah…um…when I signed off with the band…I signed off on everything.”

Her eyes opened much wider than I thought was humanly possible. Shit, here we go. “Everything…? Griffin? Why the hell would you do that? I mean, doing it on the last album was bad enough, but everything? Are you fucking crazy?”

I knew she was right, I knew it had been a pretty stupid, knee-jerk reaction, but I wasn’t about to admit that to her now. Not with Denny’s refusal to manage me ringing through my ears. “No, I just don’t want anything from them. They’re dead to me,” I spouted. It felt good to use Matt’s words against him, even if he wasn’t here to hear it.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled a deep breath. When she reopened them, she was a little calmer. Not by much though. “For the sake of your family, and those two little girls out there who idolize you…stop fucking around and fix this. Call Denny, call Harold, and start bringing in some fucking cash. Or I fucking will, and you won’t like the way I do it.”

With that, she grabbed her boots and stormed out of the room.

Jesus. I knew she worried about money and crap, but damn, she should have more faith in me. I was her husband, she should believe in me. Till death do us part and all that shit. A tiny part of my brain told me that she’d have more faith if I’d been more honest, but I yelled at that part of my head to shut up. I didn’t need to hear it. I felt bad enough as it was.