Page 50 of Rock Chick Bonus Tracks

“Yes,” she whispered.

Oh yes.

He fucked her in a way she’d never call it hanky-panky again.

And after, once he’d cleaned her up, repositioned her panties, and had her held close to him under the covers in their bed, was when he spoke.

“You were the first girl I loved and the only woman I’ve ever loved, Ava. Know it. And don’t forget it.”

“I won’t, baby. I think you just drilled that in so deep, me forgetting that would be impossible.”

“Good,” he grunted. “Go to sleep.”

“So bossy.”

“As if you don’t like it,” he muttered.

She pushed closer. “Oh, I like it.Allof it.”

Fuck.

His woman.

His Ava.

He held her tight, and finally she shut up and fell asleep.

Which meant so did he.

Track 6

Rock Chick Reckoning

Just in Case

Mace

Mace returned from his run, wandering through the lush foliage that led to the bungalow he shared with Stella at the Chateau Marmont.

The band had a day off from the studio.

This was because they were on fire. Dixon Jones and the swinging dicks at Black Fat Records were beside themselves. The tracks were great, and Stella and the boys were laying them down like pros.

Mace had to admit to feeling shock about this. He thought there’d be antics. Tantrums. Fights. Groupies hanging out in the booth, distracting the process.

But there had been none of that shit.

He looked right, where the path opened up to head down to the pool, and he stopped dead.

Pong, his body glistening with oil, a tiny neon-green Speedo covering his narrow ass, a thin gold chain winking in the sun around his waist, was lying flat out on his stomach on a lounger, arms dangling down the sides to rest on the pool deck.

He looked passed out.

This could have something to do with the two women on the loungers on either side of him, one laying on her back in a barely-there bikini, the other on her stomach, no top to speak of and a thong hiked up her ass, both also looking passed out.

The Gypsies were a no-name band here in LA, and they’d only been in town for three weeks. Most of that time, they’d been working. They hadn’t even played a gig.

Still, Pong scored himself some groupies.

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