Ace (Band of Brothers #1)

By: Lyra Parish



The set was nearing the end and I could feel the gaze of the blonde in the front row. Her tits hung out of her shirt as she licked her lips and visually ripped off my clothes. When I looked away then back at her, it was like her eyes had never left me. Tonight, I decided I'd fuck the blonde in the front row.

Blue and green lights flashed over the stage, then washed across the crowd. When we made eye contact again, her tongue traced the outside of her plump bottom lip and at that moment I knew she was DTF. Her being down to fuck made this so much easier, but then again, being the lead singer of Band of Brothers made panties magically melt. I'd be her fantasy for the night. I'm sure there would be many more one-night stands considering each show—from Florida to New York, all the way to California—was sold out.

The drums beat on as I screamed out the next few lyrics.

"I won’t give up

I won’t slow down

You expect to see me crash while I turn it around

I won’t give in

To your selfish demands

I see right through your plans.”

The drums stopped and the distortion was cut, leaving a melodic strum of Nik's guitar.

The song ended then the lights faded as we walked off stage leaving the crowd screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs. Jex, Nik, and Rex had huge grins on their faces as they chugged the water the technicians handed us. This would never get old. Moments like this were the ones we lived and worked for. Once the chanting and clapping rose to the maximum volume, the four of us walked back onstage and gave the fans what they wanted, an encore.

Green and yellow lights flashed over the crowd and smoke hovered on the bottom of the stage. We played three more songs, giving the audience all the energy we had left. People sang and swayed to the lyrics and music while some surfed over the crowd. Some jumped up and down, feeling the full beat of the drums while others banged their heads. The feeling of having thousands of people chanting my words didn't seem real. More often than not, I felt like I was in a dream—one that I never wanted to wake from.

During the last song, I pointed to the blonde. By the way she was dressed in a tight pink shirt and a skirt that showed the bottom of her ass cheeks, I knew she wanted to be seen. She probably had this night planned from the beginning. Lucky girl. Randomly, I chose a few others from the crowd to join us, to dance in front of our audience, to feel the temporary power. It was something I did each show, every tour.

Security helped the girls climb on the stage and they lifted their arms and shook their asses. Before the song ended, the technicians led the girls side stage as cannons of small fireworks shot from the floor. After the final song, my brothers and I threw drumsticks and guitar picks into the massive crowd; as they dived for them, we made our exit. The yelling didn't stop for several minutes, but eventually the audience realized we weren't coming back out. I walked side stage where the girls anxiously waited. I smiled, popping an eyebrow at my chosen fuck for the night, and she instantly came to me. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and hers hung on my waist. My brothers stopped in the green room with the other girls, but Blondie and I walked to the bus.

"I'm Lindsey," she whispered in my ear before we reached the end of the hallway. I smiled at her and pushed open the exit door. Groupies and fans waited near the bus, and as soon as we walked up, they rushed it.

"I'll be out in a bit," I said, smiling with pearly whites to the fans. "My brothers are coming out that door over there. About ten minutes."

I hated to out their exit strategy, but I wanted to take my time burying my dick deep inside Misty or Christy or whatever the fuck her name was. It didn't matter. Names never did.

We walked inside the bus where bottles of liquor lined the counter. I pulled a shot glass from the cabinet and glanced over at her. She was searching around with wide eyes. The bus was something I had gotten used to after touring for months—recessed lighting, wooden floors, and stainless steel surrounded me. This was our home away from home; well one of them at least. We had two buses for touring not including our technical crews.

"What's your poison of choice?" I asked.

"Tequila." Her voice was soft and seductive.

I tossed a lime in the air and caught it in my palm, then rolled it on the bar top. I grabbed a knife from a drawer, and then sliced it into thick chunks. The smell of citrus filled the room and my mouth almost watered for it. Carefully I poured her a shot of tequila and placed a lime on the side. She looked at me curiously, then raised her glass in the air. I clinked the side of the tequila bottle to her little glass.

"To music," she said.

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