the table, skidding across it into Phil’s arms. Sheri grabbed me and yanked me out of the way as Jason, X, and Flipper pig-piled on top of them.
Andy burst into tears. “That’s so beautiful!”
Siggie then lost it, laughing at Andy’s antics. Thom, the strong and silent one, draped his arm around Siggie and smirked.
Jimi wrapped his arms around my waist, watching the manly lovefest. “I want in on that.”
“I think you might have a better shot with Andy,” Alys told him dryly.
Once the brotherhood unknotted themselves, everyone got a round of shots, and we all toasted the newest member of NOLA’s Junk.
“You ready, little brother?” Phil’s voice boomed out over us all.
“Fuck yeah, I’m ready!” roared Connor.
“That’s good ’cause…Devil’s?” Jason called out to their first label acquisition.
“Yeah?” answered Mojave.
“You ain’t headlinin’ tonight!”
“Huh?” grunted Andy.
“Naw, man! You’re openin’ for us!” cried Flipper.
Devil’s Advocate jumped up and roared.
The doors opened, and the usual Friday crowd started milling in. They had no idea that they were about to be treated to the brand-new five-member band that was NOLA’s Junk.
The look on my baby brother’s face was enough to reduce me to tears. His genius, determination, and hard work had paid off. Recognized by one of the greatest heavy metal bands of our generation as the gifted musician he was, they had handed him his lifelong dream. It didn’t matter to him that he wouldn’t be playing his favorite instrument, he could do all of it. I was beyond proud.
After everyone else congratulated him personally, the only people left who hadn’t were Alys and me. Connor’s joy-brimmed eyes met mine, and his smile blinded me. Our hug was mutually strong and bursting with our combined elation.
“Thank you,” he whispered in my ear.
“It was all you, little brother,” I replied. “I’m only banging the singer.”
He put me back on my feet and scooped up Alys next, squeezing her tightly to his broad chest, whispering something in her ear. Long tattooed arms wrapped around me from behind, and my favorite scent filled my olfactory.
“Let’s go to the restroom,” Phil whispered in my ear, husky and heavy. “I’m startin’ to get nervous, thinkin’ ’bout goin’ up on stage.”
“You’re full of shit.” I laughed.
“Maybe. I might only wanna see why Jimi calls you Sugar Tits.” He dragged me off to the VIP restroom. Locking the door behind him, he faced me toward the mirror and lifted my NOLA’s Junk tank top with the moniker Baby Girl on the back, baring my tits for his viewing pleasure.
“Mmm,” he purred, his hands coming around.
We both watched as his elegant long fingers plucked and rolled gently at my nipples.
“The hairy fairy is fuckin’ right. Sugar Tits describes ’em perfectly.”
I grinned, and he smiled. The air around us thickened heatedly.
“I think I might need more than a blow job, Sugar Tits.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mmhmm. I think I need to feel you come all over my dick this time. I wanna be on stage and be drippin’ out of you at the same time.”
When he said shit like that to me, I was done for. And he knew it.
“How do you want me?” I asked, breathless.
He smirked and dropped his hands to my fly, unbuttoning and unzipping, pushing my jeans down to pool around my ankles.
“Any fuckin’ way I can get you,” he replied, a hand pushing me down from between my shoulder blades.
Gently, his fingers probed my wet slit from behind just as Devil’s Advocate started blaring through the walls, a heavy thrum of muffled thrash. Moaning, I arched my back, taking his fingers deeper. In the reflection, I saw him sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “I love how you’re my own sweet little slut. Always fuckin’ ready for me.” His narrowed eyes found mine in the mirror. “Only me.”
“Put it in me,” I begged.
“Tell me you’re my slut first.”
“I’m your slut, Phil. Only yours.”
He removed his fingers and undid his belt. Like one of Pavlov’s dogs, hearing the clink, clink of the buckle made my cunt ooze and tingle in an anticipating knee-jerk reaction.
He’s right. I’m his absolute slut. Anytime, anywhere, however he wants it, he can have it.
Thick and rigid, it felt so good as the hot hard length of him sank in nice and slow. In the mirror, I watched as he closed his eyes, and his face showed unadulterated bliss. So beautiful, so fierce.
Large hands grasped my hips. Mesmerized by the sight of him, he towered above me, filling me, losing himself inside me.