Authors: Lisa Marie
Terminal Series 2
By Lisa Marie
© Lisa Marie 2015
All Rights Reserved
Cover by Entertwine Publishing
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All character, places, and descriptions come from the imagination of the author. All are fictional and any resemblance to real life persons or places is purely coincidental.
To all the dreamers.
Rolling over, the warmth of the sun heats my face and slowly wakes me from my slumber. My head is killing me and I am in major need of water with a side of pain pills. I attempt to swallow but find that there is no hydration to fill my throat. Smacking my mouth, my tongue sticks to the roof with the leftover pollution from last night and reminds me of my lack of fluid.
In an attempt to open my eyes, I am blinded by the sun and cover my face with my hand resigning to the fact that I am so fucking hung over. I throw my arm out to the side, expecting to hit a pillow, when I hit something warm and fleshy, causing me to freeze.
“Ow. Fuuuuuck. Turn off the fucking light,” a female voice groans.
My eyes fly open as I suddenly remember where I am and this is bad. This is VERY fucking bad. Turning my head, I see her fire red hair, it's far from natural ginger, it's closer to clown smile red than ginger. FUCK. Shit. I quickly turn my body and the moment my feet hit the floor, I try to remember where my clothes are.
“Think. FUCK. Think.”
I hit my head with my fists a couple of times before I remember pulling them off in the hall so I could fuck her against the wall near the picture of her fiancé, Evan. Evan fucking Dreysden, the mother fucker who helped launch Terminal and got us our first fucking contract. Flying out of the bed, I find my pants in the hall and pull them up quickly as I retrace all of our drunken steps last night.
My shirt and belt are on the floor in the hallway where Cinnamon or Red or whatever her fucking name is dropped to her knees and swallowed my cock balls deep without the slightest fucking gag.
My shoes are in the kitchen where I bent her over the island bar and fucked her until she screamed.
My coat is on the doorknob, I guess I knew I would be making a quick getaway this morning. Pulling my motorcycle keys out of my pocket, I blindly rush to the street and reach my bike. Where's my helmet? Fuck it. I climb on my bike and get the fuck out of dodge. All I need is for fucking Evan Dreysden to know I fucked his fiancée and for Landyn to cut my balls off.
I zip through traffic weaving recklessly, not caring that I'm without a helmet. I would like to keep my dick. Two heads are better than one. Cars screech around me and horns blare in my ears, but I need to get home so I just ignore them and continue weaving. I finally reach my neighborhood and slow down my maniacal race to freedom.
Pulling into my parking stall, I hop off my bike and brush my hair back with my fingers as I enter the glass doors as if nothing happened. I stop at the mailbox and wink at the girl down the hall who smiles at me every time she sees me. Closing and locking the mailbox, I turn to walk up the stairs to my fourth floor apartment. The walk feels like the death march as my hangover is strong enough to push aside the adrenaline rush I was feeling just moments ago. I slide my key into the lock and open the door as my head starts to pound some more. Dropping my head, I walk through the door and head straight for my shower to wash the smell of Laylani or Christie off of my dick.
What the fuck was her name?
I drop my keys on the dresser and tug off my t-shirt and jeans. Holding myself up with one hand against the wall, I peel one sock off at a time and throw them in the pile of clothing that grows daily. After turning on the tap, I stand in front of the toilet and take a piss closing my eyes and tilting my head back momentarily before returning to my normal relaxed piss stance. Opening my eyes, I look to the left as I am shaking it off meeting my gaze in the mirror. I stare at myself and wonder why I always think it's such a good idea when I decide to get so fucked up. I flush the toilet and step in front of the sink as condensation begins to coat the mirror, swiping my hand over the glass I lean forward and stare into my bloodshot eyes.
I'm fucking pathetic.
I stare at my reflection until the steam fills the space and I can no longer see my own look of disgust. Pulling back the curtain, I step under the spray and allow the water to pelt my hung over body. My hands up on the tile and my head dipped between my shoulders, I allow the memories to come back to me.
“It's quiet in here tonight.” I nod at the redhead waitress who is serving me in my private section. Her tits are perky, and her ass looks amazing. Her name tag reads SINder, there's most likely a TWATla, and an ASSmanda around here somewhere.
“You're in a private booth, of course it's quiet. You paid for quiet.” She puckers her lips and smirks at me resembling a naughty librarian in those black horn-rimmed glasses. I would love to put her over my lap and spank her for a while before fucking her right here on the table. Something tells me she would like that too, but she needs to be primed first.
I nod and casually sweep my hand over my head. Trying for aloof, I scan the room before looking up at her offering a cocky grin. “Yeah I did.” I squint and lean in looking at her name tag, which is really a glorified pastie. “SINder. Hmm, that's a unique name for this place.” I mock enthusiasm. Catching my sarcasm she smiles at me and puts her hand on her hip.
“What can I get you, handsome?” She blinks, smiling seductively with her eyes.
“You can call me Des.” I cock my eyebrow at her as she juts her hip out and shifts her weight. I wonder if she knows I'm with Terminal. I don't always use the band to get pussy, but I'm wondering if it might be my ticket with her.
“Desmond, I know who you are.” She brushes her hair from her face. “You'd have to live under a rock not to know that you are Desmond Charter of Terminal.” Her hand goes back to her hip and I notice her three inch nails covered in glitter and jewels. Strobe lights flash over her shoulder as the DJ announces the next dancer.
I lick the corner of my mouth and acknowledge her statement while looking beyond her at the dancer on the stage. “You want to keep up the cheesy SIN-der charade-” I look back at her and stare openly at her tits. Biting my lip, I look back up into her eyes. “Or you want to tell me what your real name is?”
Her reply is a non-committed shrug and a smirk. “What do you want, Des?” She holds her cocktail tray in front of her hips with two hands, squeezing her breasts together. Purposefully or not, I just want to stick my cock in between them and fuck them for a while.
“What I really want is you on your knees right now in front of me but since I have to have a drink to be here – whiskey on the rocks. Three fingers...Please.” The direct approach doesn't always work. Many times it has turned into the management of the establishment asking me to stop harassing the girls or waitresses changing sections. Not everyone can handle the Charter charm.
“Three fingers.” She repeats and bites her lip.
“Three fingers.” I confirm and something tells me we are not talking about my drink anymore.
An hour later and I have her right where I want her on the table in front of me with her legs spread. I couldn't give a single fuck what people see. She's purring and I know that her pussy is begging for me to taste it.
“I've got my bike, how far is your place?” I growl into her ear. I never take chicks back to my place. I've seen what crazy bitches can do when they know where you live, I'm not about to let that shit happen to me. Landyn can keep all the crazy bitches, every single one of them.
“I'm around the corner, two blocks TOPS.” SINder spreads her legs further on the table and I can see the delicate triangle of silk and lace that barely covers her mound. I place my drink in between her milky thighs and press the cold glass against her silk covered pussy. She bites her lip and closes her eyes. “Terina.” She pants. “My name is Terina.”
“Let's go, Terina.” I squeeze her breast and press my thumb into her mouth. Her beautiful, warm, pink mouth.
Evan is going to fucking kill me.
I turn off the water as it runs cold and wrap a towel around my waist, not even drying off I walk into my bedroom and lay on my bed in surrender. Arms spread to the sides and feet hanging off the bed. I'm officially quitting today – I won't be staying up – I need to sleep this fucker off. The concert is tonight, haven't played at home in months and if I am not on my A game, fuckin’ Landyn will have my ass.
Rolling to my back, my cock stirs at the memory of Terina's perfect mouth and lack of gag reflex. Firmly I wrap my hand around my shaft and stroke from base to tip as I remember the best fucking blow job of my life. I finally finish off on my own stomach before wiping it off with my towel and going to sleep for a couple of hours.
“Do you remember the golden ticket winner?” Landyn asks before scooping a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. He always orders the same thing, no matter what time of the day we come here. Pancakes with blueberries and whipped cream. The lunch crowd is quiet today, which is surprising because it's Sunday. Maybe all of la-la land is hung over.
The waitresses hang out at their stand trying not to get caught looking at our table. It's the same thing every time we come here. Not one of them has ever come over reeking of desperation, which is why I really like this place. They know who we are but they don't fight over getting our attention.
Swallowing my mouthful of coffee, I nod and put the cup back on the table. “Yeah you totally scared her off.” I laugh at the memory while Landyn glares at me from across the table. “What the hell did you say to her to make her run that day?”
He points his fork at me and offers me a stern look in response to my question before responding. “I'm kinda seeing her.” He swallows a mouthful of ice water while watching me as my response forms.
“How the fuck did that happen?” I ask while resting my arm across the back of the vinyl bench and smile at him. She's going to be another crazy bitch and I am going to have to say I fuckin’ told you so. I just fucking know it.
Putting down his glass he smiles and shakes his head. “Well, I invited her to dad's thing last night after I found her in the chat room when I was there last. She was pretty surprised that I saw her name pop up in the sea of Sinners that was online at the time.” He chuckles and rests his elbows on the table. “I started texting her, keeping my number blocked.” He looks out the window and smiles. “I slept with her last night and we were busted by her best friend this morning.” He coughs out a laugh and looks back at me. “That's where I was when you called.”
“Did you have a threesome?” I joke. “Oh hey! Was it that redhead? She was with her friend at the show! Are they roommates? Do you think you can get me the phone number of the chick that was with her? Lisa? Lindsay?” I ramble off and tap the table trying to remember her name. I remember the tits but not so much the name.
“I don't know, dude.” Landyn laughs at me and takes a drink of his water. “I'm not a fucking dating service.” He wipes his mouth with the napkin and grins before taking another sip.
“Who said I wanted to date her?” I wink at him and raise my arms to the back of the bench seat. The red vinyl is cold from the air conditioning. I run my fingers back and forth between the wood frame and the cushion. “She a screamer? The quiet ones usually are.”
Nearly losing his mouthful of water, Landyn covers his mouth with his fist and shakes his head. Coughing slightly, he responds with a chuckle. “Thanks for that.”
“Anytime, so you gonna hook me up?” I ask again. I seriously need to see what this chick is willing to do. I have a few ideas, but no one has been willing.
Wiping his mouth, Landyn tosses the napkin on his empty plate and waves to Monique to bring our check to us. The restaurant is starting to fill up. It's time for us to go. Bounding over to us quickly, her blonde ponytail swishes behind her. She puts the end of her pen in her mouth as she places the bill on the table before taking away our empty breakfast plates. Both Landyn and I watch her ass as she walks away. Monique is the cutest waitress on shift today, also the most popular. People always wait to sit in her section. Tossing money on the table, Landyn glances in her direction one more time before standing and walking toward the door. She looks back and raises her arm to wave at us before calling out her goodbye to us.
“Thanks for coming guys! See you next time!” She smiles brightly and my dick twitches. Waving back we push open the door and exit the restaurant. Some people look at us with recognition and others don't give a single fuck who we are.
Stepping into the sunlight hurts my eyes, and I shield them quickly with my sunglasses as we walk toward Landyn's house. Today is band practice day, or at least that's what we like to call it. We hang out, play a few songs and goof off. These are the best days. Of course, Landyn will turn it into a chat event with the Sinners, a bazillion friends will show up, dinner will be brought in and we will wind up hanging out until Landyn wanders off doing his thing, which is how many of our get togethers usually end. Landyn's house is a ten minute walk from here. We decided to come to the restaurant for lunch after I showed up this morning for coffee. Spur of the moment, it's how Landyn rolls.
“So, have you heard from Brooke lately?” I ask. She seriously needs to step back and have a restraining order put against her. The things she says are so outlandish it's ridiculous, but he should have never fucked an over the top fan girl. I remember the day I found her swimming naked in his pool. Her sundress ripped when she scaled the wall to get inside. She was simply laying there on her back floating in the warm water. Or the time we found her at the airport baggage claim trying to steal Landyn's suitcase.
Landyn groans. “Her ban has been lifted on the chat site and she is starting to tell people what happened between us. She's a whack job though so not many people believe her. The originals know to ignore her. The newbies are soon to find out. I can't ban her again. She's not being vindictive or abusive to the other members at this point.” He stops at the corner and waits for the walk light to signal that it's safe to cross. Tucking his hands in his front pockets he smiles and points at the girls across the street that just realized who we are and have decided to flip out. I look in their direction in time to see them waving and jumping like excited children.
It's quite amusing.
Our light changes, and we begin to cross the street and the girls rush over to meet us at the corner. The two of them are trying very hard to contain themselves, but I have the feeling we are the first celebrities they have seen in LA. They have that “tourist” look about them – eyes as big as saucers and no words left to speak coherently.
“Good morning, ladies. How are you today?” Landyn puts on the charm when they pounce in front of us seeking attention. Smiling and speaking quietly. Cars drive by paying very little attention to us as they do, the few people walking around glance our way but ignore us for the most part.
Flapping her arms the small blonde girl squeals, “Oh, my God. Landyn Pierce, Desmond Charter.” She takes a deep breath and her girlfriend's eyes are practically bugging out of her head, although she has no words for us.
“Do you want an autograph, sweetie?” I ask the quiet one, and she just nods frantically offering me her LA map and a pen. Her eyes glaze over and she bites her lip to prevent it from quivering. “What's your name?” I whisper to her and duck my head to meet her eyes.
“Sa- Samantha,” she replies sheepishly. “I've never met a rock star before.”
Her chin quivers nervously.
To Samantha with the beautiful eyes. I'm glad I was your first. Desmond Charter.
“There you go, sweetie. I hope you have a fantastic time in LA,” she reads the autograph and blushes. “Landyn, can you sign Samantha's as well please?”
“Sure thing.” He winks at her and passes me the other paper to sign. “Des, please sign one for Carina.”
Carina is losing her mind, and Samantha is close to tears by the time we are finished signing their maps and posing for photographs with them. We leave them freaking out on the corner and continue walking toward Landyn's house, ensuring a detour in case we are followed. Looking over my shoulder, the girls are bouncing and squealing so I don't think they will be following us. They may be fans, but they seem pretty respectful of our space.
Opening the back gate, we hear Micha and Tim chatting by the pool. Allowing the gate to slam shut, Tim's head snaps in our direction and Micha starts laughing. “A little jumpy, Tim?” Turning toward us Micha smiles. “Hey boys, where the fuck have you been?” Tipping back his beer, he swallows and raises the bottle in our direction.
This is uncharacteristic of Micha. He doesn't swear often, however, when he does it's because something is really pissing him off. With Tim here, it could be anything. Tim is kind of a douche.
“Met some fans.” Landyn shrugs and sits on a patio chair opposite of tense Micha. Looking between both of the waiting men. Neither of them look happy, both of them equally annoyed with the other. “What's going on here?” Landyn asks as he looks between the two of them.
“Not one thing,” Tim responds flatly.
“Is that so?”
“Yup,” Micha responds allowing the p to pop at the end of his response.
“Whatever. Look, can we fuckin’ practice now please? Do this Kumbaya shit later?” I suggest. I can tell that this is not something Micha wants to discuss in front of one of us, and that's cool, but I came here for a reason and I am going to pound on my drums.
“Let's do it!” Landyn replies as he walks toward the house and lets us all in. Heading to the room in the back I look at Micha, who is obviously steaming. I'm going to have to figure this fucker out and soon. Tim looks like his shit doesn't stink, like always. I wonder what we missed between these two.
Sitting down behind my kit, Micha picks up his guitar and ensures it's tuned while Landyn and Tim head into the control room. I look over at Micha, who nods signaling he is ready. I count it down on my sticks and begin pounding out “Sinner.” Landyn joins us and listens to each of our instruments keenly before singing the first line.
Two hours after practice begins, Landyn has finally decided that rehearsal is over for the day and he pulls out the laptop to have a video chat with the Sinners. Unannounced chats are always the most fun, less people. Catching them off guard. Good times. I sit to his left and Micha to his right. Waiting to load, Landyn clicks a few keys and we are in. We watch the chat for a few minutes. The online crowd is quiet right now and we can't wait to pounce. Pressing the control button, a black box appears and the Sinners start questioning the event. He has it set so there is no video just yet, only sound.
“Hello, Sinners, how is your afternoon so far?” Words start flying all over the chat screen, another key click and the video goes live. More words fly past. I doubt I would be able to read them all if I tried. More and more chatters enter the room as the Sinners take to twitter and texts to announce our presence in the chat room.
“So I thought I would bring some friends to say a quick hi this afternoon. You know my good friend Micha and my cousin Desmond.” We both poke our heads in and greet the group, smiling like the fools we are. We chat for a few minutes, filling the Sinners in on our upcoming events and tours before signing off and heading into the living room that is starting to fill with the team and many friends ready to hang out for the day.
Landyn stays online with the Sinners while many of our friends are starting to congregate around the pool under the warmth of the sun. After greeting those I care to acknowledge, I grab a beer and sit beneath the giant palm at the edge of the cement pad to watch everyone do their thing. I don't join in because I have very little interest in socializing with this group, there are a couple of girls I would have no problem fucking, but I don't care to do much else with this crowd.
Micha joins me in the shade of the palm tree, and before I know it we are having a heated round of “What if”, our current escape from reality as we watch the chaos ensue through Landyn's backyard.
“Okay, so What if when we woke up in the morning, the sky was yellow and the sun was blue?” Micha asks while slugging back the last of his beer.
I blow out a puff of air and a belly of laughter before I respond. “I would have to say that the fuckin’ Lizard King would rise to be king of all people because that sounds like a pretty cool fucking LSD trip.”
“The Lizard King? You both fucking know that Jim Morrison is dead right?” Landyn walks over to us shaking his head. Both Micha and I nod at Landyn as he joins us. I tip my bottle back and take a deep drink. Micha's phone chirps and after looking at the screen, he quickly stands and dusts off his pants.
“Gotta go.” Micha starts backing away and flashes us a peace sign with his fingers, much to my enjoyment.
“Who the fuck flashes peace signs anymore, fucker?” I call out as the gate closes behind him. Finishing off my beer, I take notice of the time and say goodbye to Landyn as well. We're only a couple of weeks away from our Ukrainian leg. I just want to go do my own thing for now away from these fuckers that take up far too much of my time as it is.