As soon as she stepped off the plane, James wanted her.
He suddenly thanked God that the rest of the band had prodded him in to meeting the support act as they landed- there was no greater reward he could've imagined than seeing that flame haired beauty coming down the steps towards him.
He also had to thank whatever divine force had made her decide to wear short shorts despite the relentless onslaught of snow. Although they were imprisoned in jet black tights, those long, lithe legs of hers could never disappoint.
She had a body straight off a poster- a poster he himself had secretly studied. He knew every inch of that image- her, with her back to the camera, her sculpted ass squeezed into a pair of cut-off Daisy Duke's. And now that poster- the girl, the Goddess, the rockstar- was walking straight towards him.
*
As soon as she stepped off the plane, Elly blushed.
There they were, standing only a few feet below her- they were obscured by the snowstorm, but the heady thudding of her heartbeat told her it was them.
Them- The Bloody Knuckles. The band that had got her into rock and roll. She could still distinctly recollect her friend playing their most famous song to her for the first time- the thrashing of the guitars, the slow and steady grinding beat, the frenetic drums, and finally, the rasping voice of the lead singer. It was love at first listen.
Night after night Elly had stayed up alone in her room, listening to their songs of teenage rebellion, her eyes skyward. Each note let her know that there was a better life for her out there- that once the pettiness of being a teenager was over and done with, she would have the courage to pursue her dreams. Each syllable they shouted assured her that she too could take her bass guitar and see the world. She too had songs in her heart that she had to sing to the world. And, by some divine force of nature, she was now going to get the chance to sing side by side with her idols.
Recollections of teenage fantasies escaped as the bitingly cold wind hit her full force. She silently cursed her manager for forcing her to wear her 'signature' hotpants in case the press were waiting to greet them. Of course, the press weren't there- but four of her idols were standing a few feet away, and probably wondering what on Earth had possessed her. Fuck, it was cold...
*
James was only wearing a sweater, but he could feel himself burning up. It felt as if his heart was pumping out pure fire, the heavy throb of his pulse electric.
His head was screaming- get a grip! You're acting as if you're star struck- you've met practically every band you've ever listened to, visited more countries than you could name, had dozens of women begging for your attention- and you're getting hot and bothered over some kid barely out of school.
Besides, she's too young for you, he warned. He knew alarm bells should've been ringing- even the nervous way which she brushed a wavy tendril of her scarlet hair behind her ear screamed of youthful awkwardness. And yet- though he hated himself for thinking it- even the thick jacket she was wearing betrayed curves- curves of a woman. A woman who knows what she wants; a woman with desires; a woman whose desires he craved to satisfy...
Besides, he reasoned, trying to calm the tempest of his heartbeat, if she's made it onto an international tour, she's got to at least have her head screwed on right.
He was barely aware of his band mate, Tom, introducing them all: 'and this is Dan, Ed...'
Looking around, he noticed all of the other guys were shuffling from foot to foot, the same blush on all of their faces. They were clearly crushing just as hard as he was- what the Hell was with this girl?
'... and James.' He was taken aback by the brute force that was her handshake- it was firm, assertive; he doubted anyone on the receiving end of such a handshake could doubt that this tiny firecracker meant business.
Suddenly, his trousers felt even tighter- little girl indeed...
*
'Hi,' Elly declared, staring him straight in the eye, and praying to God she didn't blush.
She felt her guitarist Jack digging her in the back- she could hear their snickers. It was a truth universally acknowledged that since the age of fifteen, Elly had crushed on James Montford, and crushed on him hard. The bassist always- in her experience- got less attention than the other guys, but as soon as she heard that dirty bass line, thoughts about those fingers leaving the fret board behind and going to work on her were never too far away.
It startled to her notice that they were all intimidated by her- surely, it should be the other way around? Yet, she'd found out early that a front woman had an amazing capacity to turn everyone around her to putty. Particularly one such as herself-a girl who was brash, confident and capable of perfectly toeing the line between tomboy and sex kitten.
It would take a couple of weeks, she knew, but they'd get used to having a girl on the tour. Unfortunately, acclimatising these fine young gentlemen would mean no flirting, no dating, and no sex. Even the faintest whiff of seduction would mean a friendly working atmosphere would be impossible. She'd tried it once before- very briefly- and once in was done, having to open the show for a guy who'd ditched her night after night after night became a recurring nightmare.
To avoid that nightmare, she had to put her fantasies to bed- as much as it pained her to do so. Particularly when Tom appeared to have what could only be described as a throbbing and urgent erection...
*
Was she staring at his dick?
No, she couldn't have been- it was all in his head. He just wanted her to notice- the fall to her knees, unzip his flies, wrap her hands firmly around his shaft, and give him the attention he so desperately required.
Wait- yes! She was staring straight at his cock! And- biting her lip!
Oh God, this was either going to be the best, or the longest, tour ever...
****************
It was 3am when James felt the bus stop.
Ed poked his head through James' compartment door: 'Dude, wake up. Get out here.'
Dan and Tom were already in the gangway, still half asleep.
'Sorry for waking you guys up,' Ernie, the driver, began, 'But the other bus has broken down'.
'So?' Dan asked.
'So, it's a snowstorm- we shouldn't even be driving. We can't get anyone out to fix it. I'd still quite like to get paid for delivering all you guys safe and sound to Vancouver, so... everyone from that bus is sleeping here tonight.'
And just like that, they were all wide awake. They hadn't shared a tour bus for years- and never with a woman. And never, ever with a woman as inherently sexual as Elly Specter.
