Bang The Drummer (6 page)

“Sorry, darlin’, but I can’t wait a second longer.”

He sheathed himself, took a deep breath, and slowly thrust his cock inside her. The size of it stretched her inner walls, scraping the sensitive flesh and waking up nerves she didn’t even know she had.

“You there yet?” he growled, panting.

“Almost, almost.”

He reached between them for her clit, rolling it between his fingers hard, to push her over the edge. She had barely reached the precipice when he moaned, “Can’t wait. Sorry. Can’t wait.”

Jill reached down to add her own fingers to his, tormenting her clit until her climax finally exploded. Good thing, she thought in some far corner of her mind, because Bowie was pulsing heavily inside her, grunting with each spurt of fluid inside the condom. Finally, he let out a long breath and rested his forehead on hers.

“Sorry, darlin’. You almost didn’t get to the finish line with me. I’m so sorry, but I just wanted you so bad.”

“It’s okay.” She stroked his damp hair. “We’ve got plenty of time to do it again. Especially after you bring your rig to my place and move in with me.” And wasn’t she just looking forward to that.

He let out another breath and closed his eyes. “Well, you see, not exactly.”

Every muscle in her body tensed. What the hell?

“What’s going on?” He’d promised her. She’d asked him several times. He
wanted
to settle down. He told her that. He
wanted
to stay in one place. “What’s happening?”

”See, it’s like this.” He still had his eyes closed, as if unable to look at her. “This guy who owns a big club in Dallas we’ve been trying to get into for a long time came here for the rodeo. He talked to us before we started tonight, and—”

Jill shoved against him as hard as she could, finally moving him enough so she could slide out from beneath him. She grabbed her clothes, yanking them on every which way as she stumbled to the front of the camper. Bowie managed to catch up with her and grab her arm as she pushed the door open.

“Hey, wait, Jill. Don’t run off. You can come to Dallas with me, right?”

She gave him a look that she hoped would shrivel his dick. “Get your hands off me, Bowie. And go to hell.”

He was still standing in the doorway, naked, as she made her way across the parking lot, speed-dialing Charlie on her cell.

When he picked her up, he took one look at her face and wisely kept his mouth shut. No comments about banging drummers tonight.

****

August

August 31. Jill made a big black X on that page of her calendar. Over it she wrote in Magic Marker “No more hard rock drummers. Their dicks should all shrivel up and fall off.”

Charlie looked over her shoulder. “Ooo-kay. Glad I’m not a rock drummer. Come on. I’ll take you to Pete’s Barbecue, and you can roll around in their special sauce.”

“I hate August,” she told him.

He nodded. “Duly noted.”

****

September

“So we’re trying jazz again?” Charlie asked, pulling into the parking lot of an upscale bar.

Jill shrugged. “What can I lose? Damn it, Charlie, I’m running out of time. I have to pick someone by November, or I can’t get the invitations printed and out in the mail in time.”

“You could always send them by email,” he pointed out.

“Oh, yeah. Wouldn’t that be real classy for a formal wedding with all the trimmings.”

Charlie parked the car, turned off the ignition, and reached for her hand. “Jill, I wish I could get you to understand the wedding isn’t half as important as the marriage. And for that you need a guy who really loves you. Who’s in it for the long haul. Who understands you and wants what you want.” He winked. “And, of course, plays a great set of drums and is a god in bed.”

She bit her lip and stared at her feet. “Are you making fun of me?”

He turned to her, cradling her chin in his warm hand. “Not one bit. I just hate all this misery you’re putting yourself through. You know I only want the best for you.”

She looked into his warm, coffee-colored eyes and thought to herself yet again how lucky she was to have him in her life. He’d been as good as his word this year, listening to her plans, putting up with her stressing and bitching, delivering her to her “dates” and fetching the pieces when they fell apart. Why couldn’t she meet a man like him? Why couldn’t he be a drummer?

That absurd idea shocked her back to reality.

She kissed his fingers and pushed his hand away. “I know that, and I thank you. From the bottom of my heart. Maybe tonight will be lucky, and I’ll be done with this whole thing.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to ‘interview’ twelve drummers before you settled on the final candidate.”

Jill shrugged. “I may be rethinking that. I need to decide by Thanksgiving or, like I said, I won’t have time to do the invitations.”

“So no twelve drummers drumming?” he teased.

“I’ll settle for one with a beat I can live with. Come on, let’s go in.”

The subdued lighting in the bar gave it a warm, intimate atmosphere. Most of the tables were filled, and any conversation was muted as people listened to the music. The band sat on a small stage, bathed in a soft spotlight. She spotted Matt, waited until the number was over and gave him a small wave. He smiled at her and blew her a small kiss.

Charlie led her in a winding path through the tables until they found one that, lucky for them, was not taken. He pulled out her chair for her before sitting in his own and leaning toward her. “No reserved spot tonight?”

She shrugged. “I’m hoping he’s saving all the nice touches for later.” She leaned a little closer. “He said we’re going to that new suites hotel, The Victoriana. He made a reservation. Maybe the bed will even have rose petals, and there’ll be champagne chilled in a silver bucket.”

“Kitten, for your sake, I sure hope so. You deserve nothing but the best.”

Why couldn’t she infuse Charlie’s wonderful nature and personality into the jerks she’d been wasting her time on? Luckily, she didn’t have much time to examine where that thought came from. The waitress took their drink orders, the set ended, and Matt came over to their table.

“You must be the real good friend who’s helping her with this,” he told Charlie, shaking his hand.

“I try to take good care of her.”

To Jill, the words sounded as much like a warning as a statement of fact. Matt just gave him a hard look before pulling out a chair and sitting down. Then he turned his attention to Jill. His heated gaze warmed her.

“We have two more sets to play, but I wish we were finished now.”

“No problem.” She smiled. “I like listening to the music. You’ve got an excellent touch with the drums.”

“Why, thank you, madam.” He winked. “I hope you think my touch is just as deft later on.”

Every one of her erotic zones did a happy dance at his words. “I’m sure I will.”

They chatted for a moment more before he excused himself to visit with some other patrons.

“Well?” She looked at Charlie. “What do you think?”

“I think if he turns out to be what you want, then I’m happy for you.”

“Wow.” She took a sip of her wine. “What a ringing endorsement.”

“The endorsement comes if tonight works out, okay? How about another glass of wine?”

But his attitude couldn’t do more than put a slight dent in her euphoria, a feeling that lasted through the final two sets. And stayed with her when Matt came to get her and led her out to his car, a new BMW. It wrapped around her on the drive to the hotel. And all the way until they entered the lobby and he pulled her aside.

“So, um, listen, Jill, this is a little embarrassing.”

She wrinkled her forehead. “What’s embarrassing? What’s the problem?”

“You’ve got credit cards with you, right?”

Her system reacted as if cold water had been dumped on her. “What? Why do you need my credit cards?”

“I’m, uh, a little short right now. If you can take care of tonight, I’ll make it up to you.”

She was rooted to the floor. “A little short? But you work in a top of the line bar. You drive a BMW. You—you—“

He sighed. “This is so embarrassing. I wanted to make a really good impression on you, but I owe my boss a lot of money and the car’s borrowed. This is only a temporary setback for me. I promise. If we can just get past tonight—“

Jill yanked her hand from his. “You want
me
to pay? Get serious here. I can just see life with you, Matt. You get all the toys, and I get all the bills. No thanks. I think we need to cut this off right here.”

“B-But, Jill,” he stammered.

“Take a memo, Matt. When you make a date with a woman, especially a date like this, the man is expected to pay. Have a good life.”

She strode through the lobby to the valet parking area, pulling her cell phone from her purse. She could hardly wait to see what Charlie would say about this one.

Damn, damn, damn.

Chapter Four

Fall

October

“I can’t believe he showed up in a Halloween costume,” Jill grumped. “At a fancy cocktail party.”

“Well,” Charlie grinned, trying to ease the tension, “it is Halloween.”

“Did you see anyone else in there dressed like that?” she demanded. “No, of course not. I was so impressed that he wrangled us an invitation, so I could hear him play in person and then leave with him. No one told me he was a joker who would end up embarrassing the rest of the band and the people who hired them.”

“Could be he was just testing your sense of humor. So what do you want to do?”

“I don’t want to stay here, that’s for sure. I want to write off October and pretend the month never happened.” She picked at the fabric of her skirt. “But I’m nearly out of time, Charlie. I have less than thirty days to settle on the drummer of my life, or the entire year will be a disaster.”

“Not much fun banging the drummers?” he teased.

“Don’t be crude,” she snapped.

“Ease up a little, kitten, or you’ll give yourself a stroke. Maybe you should try something different for November.”

“Of course,” she muttered. “Maybe I could put an ad in Billboard.”

“How about this? Maybe we could drop in at a club you don’t plan ahead for, to see a band you know nothing about, and maybe—just maybe—that drummer will be the one.”

She snorted. “And maybe I’ll win the lottery.”

“And maybe you should have a little faith. How about leaving November to me? Ditch the prospect you already have. You can’t do any worse, right?”

She heaved a deep sigh. “I guess not. But if this doesn’t work, I really will have to put out an ad.”

“Let’s just see what happens.”

****

November

Jill still didn’t understand why Charlie couldn’t have taken her to this place tonight. Or even let her drive her own car if he was chickening out. She didn’t know why he’d insisted on making the substitution anyway, when she already had a November candidate. If this turned out to be a dud, taking a cab could be a big mistake. Unless he was going to be available, she’d be at the mercy of whatever taxis were running at that hour.

But next week was Thanksgiving. This weekend was her deadline. If she didn’t have a groom for her Christmas wedding, she might have to go into permanent hibernation. Certainly a trip to the poor house after paying for a wedding that didn’t take place.

“Here we are.” The cab pulled up in front of a small building with no windows but a carved front door. “You must be very special to get an invitation here.”

“What?” She frowned. “Why? What is this place, anyway?”

“Club Magic. They have a house band during the week, but every Sunday night the Five Easy Pieces plays here. Have been for almost ten years.” The cabbie turned to look at her. “Damn good, too. Never even have to advertise. But they’re so popular you can only get in by invitation.”

“B-But—” Her stomach cramped. Had Charlie done this to make a fool of her? She couldn’t believe he would be so cruel, but… Should she just take the cab back home? “I don’t have in invitation. A f-friend told me to come here.”

“Then they must have your name at the door. That’ll be fifteen thirty, please.”

Jill paid him, still wondering if she was making a mistake, and climbed out of the cab. When she pulled open the door to the building, she found herself in a small dark foyer. The notes of a familiar soft ballad drifted out to her.

A blonde with skinny high heels and a vivacious smile greeted her. “Hi. I’ll bet you’re Jill.”

Jill blinked. “How did you know who I am?”

“He gave me a picture.”

“He? Who—”

“Right this way, please. I’ve got a table up front for you.”

The woman was already moving so Jill had no choice but to follow her. When she entered the main lounge and saw the band on stage, she stopped dead in her tracks, frozen with shock.

Five musicians, in casual but appropriate clothing, were pumping out a flawless rendition of an old standard, “Take Five.” One of her favorites. But the biggest shock was the drummer. Moving his body to the beat as he pounded it out on the drums was Charlie Costello.
Her
Charlie Costello. How had she never, in all these years, known he was a drummer?

A hand tugged at her, and she realized the woman was coaxing her along. In seconds, she was sitting at a table in the center of the room, a room filled with people paying rapt attention to the performance on stage.

A waiter appeared with a wine cooler holding a bottle of chilled white wine and a glass.

“Charlie says you prefer Riesling,” the woman said, “but if you’d rather have something else that’s not a problem.”

Jill could hardly find her tongue to answer. “No. No, that’s just fine. Thank you.”

The waiter poured a taste for her, she sampled and nodded, and he filled her glass. She took a gulp rather than a sip, needing to settle her suddenly jangling nerves. What the hell was going on here?

The hostess handed her an envelope.

“Charlie said to give you this. If you need anything at all, just let us know. He told us to take very good care of you.”

Jill motioned the woman to lean closer so she could whisper. “Have they really been playing here for ten years?”