A MUCH NEEDED REFUGE
“Hey babes,” Chase said as Ilisha answered her cell.
“I picked up a gig in Denver, I want you to come.”
“Okay, but just friends,” she reminded him.
As Ilisha went for the front door her mother, who had been reading a book, looked up. “Where are you going now? We haven’t spent any time together.”
“Exactly,” she said shutting the door.
As she walked in the club door she noticed Chase’s new band flyers. Their name ‘Temptuous Poison’ was in big, bold letters, with an image of them at the bottom. The four band members sat around a Victorian style ottoman. Each member wore black. Chase, is your hair ever out of place? Too bad it didn’t work out, because this picture makes me want you.
The set started with an anthem type song. The entire bar had their fists pumping. Ilisha moved to the front of the crowd, barley avoiding a mosh pit. She joined in as the sea of people began to jump with the beat.
Chase moved in hyper intensity as he gripped the mic. Springing his body forward like a frog he landed perfectly on a row of amps at the front of the stage, pausing momentary before hurling himself into the crowd. His body rolled and flipped from one person to another, surfing the crowd. His voice was just as strong as if he were standing still.
Riding the crowd back to the stage, the band started into a slow number. You just had to go there and sing the song you wrote about me, didn’t you. Ilisha watched, in a trance, as Chase softly gripped the microphone, sliding it into a stand. He stood with his feet apart, holding onto the stand as if it were a woman. His fingertips ran down the shaft gently. The black leather pants he always wore were wrapped tightly around him. Ilisha looked down. And you just had to wear the boots I got you. The black leather, biker, boots came up to his calves and had buckles running up the length of them. Ilisha bit her lip, liking the sight of him.
She listened as he, softly, sung the words, an acoustic guitar playing in the background. “Remember when we sat in the rain. When the wind whispers I think of you. I’d spend a lifetime looking in your eyes. Can I wish for ever after?” He paused to take a dramatic breath. “We share our hard times, but love will bring us through. Always remember my dreams of you. When times are hard I’ll take your hand. I promise you’ll never be lonely.” He ended on a high note and held it.
After the show she walked back stage, her intension was to say goodnight. Chase took her hand and smiled. “Come with me.”
He led her down a long hall plastered with band flyers, an array of colored paper selfishly plaster over another.
As soon as the back door closed, Chase pushed her into the wall. His hands ran up her neck, wrapping around her long black hair. Before she could protest his tongue penetrated her mouth. Why do I let you do this to me? Maybe because you’re too damn hot to resist.
Chase’s hands slid down her back, grabbing her butt, pulling her up; his knees under her legs supporting her against the wall. His hands slid under her jacket, breaking the knot in the belt. When his hands gipped her breasts she let out a slight moan.
The back door came open and soft yellow light poured into the back parking lot. A guy dropped his conversation to look at them. “That’s why it’s good to be a rock star,” he said as he kept walking.
“I can’t do this.” Ilisha whispered.
Chase let her legs fall. His hand stroked her hair back into place. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I think I should go.”
He leaned his forehead on hers. “Please don’t.” His soft voice melted in her ears like velvet.
He took her hand, leading her to his car. A few blocks away they pulled into his hotel parking lot.
They joined an elderly couple in the elevator. “What floor?” the old man asked.
“10 please,” Chase replied.
The couple got off on floor two. As soon as the door shut Chase slammed Ilisha into the mirrored wall. A small grunt burst from her lungs with the impact. He slid her jacket off, his hands grasping her small arms all the way down. When the elevator bell dinged, indicating floor ten, they stumbled out, still groping one another.
Chase dug with one hand in his back pocket, still kissing her, for his key card. He fumbled with it a few times before the door clicked.
Ilisha ripped his pants open, as they tripped over each other’s feet. Still no underwear, nothing changes.
He dropped her to the bed, at the same time ridding her of her shirt.
Ilisha reached for his boots and began undoing all the buckles. “Maybe I shouldn’t have bought these for you.”
“Hell with the boots.” He pushed her down, ripped her shoes off, and had her pants off in one swift motion. “I need you now.”