Billy Jeffers: Rockers of Steel (9 page)

“Are you extremely promiscuous?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t say
extremely
.”

Elusive much?
I think to myself.

“How many people have you been with?”

You could hear a pin drop inside the vehicle. I glance over, and he looks shocked and pissed.

“You had your dick inside me this morning. You came—”

“Christ, Madison, can we talk about something else?” He squirms in his seat, no doubt uncomfortable with the conversation. “How many people have you been with?”

“Three,” I answer honestly.

“
Three
?”

I hold up three fingers. “Three.”

“Four now,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“I can’t tell if that’s a question or—”

“Well, since this morning—”

I hold three fingers up again. “Three,
including
last night and this morning.”

“Why are we talking about this?” he grumbles, looking away and shifting himself so he isn’t looking at me.

“Well, I asked you how many people you have been with, and you—”

“More than three. I’m gonna rest now.”

“Whore.” I chuckle to myself.

“No, Madison, I was dragged into this business, and apparently—”

I laugh loudly, cutting him off. “So, you’re telling me, what? It’s part of the job? Your dick just falls into random groupies, or—”

“It’s not something I’m proud of.” He turns around and glares at me. “I may not have a number for you, but I can say I have been in three long-term relationships, and until this...rock band crap, I had a damn number.”

“Oh, my God, you don’t even know do you?” I can’t help finding humor in it, even if he doesn’t.

“Is that so shocking? Clearly, it doesn’t mean anything to me. But I don’t go seeking it. I certainly don’t traipse around, teasing in hopes that someone will.” He stops and closes his eyes. “That was rude.”

“No, you’re right,” I admit.

He leans closer. “I wasn’t—”

“Billy?” I look at him and raise my eyebrow.

“I know, shut up.” He pouts and sits back in his seat.

Nothing more is said, and he eventually falls asleep.

As I drive, I reflect on my past relationship choices, my past year, and what a mess I must appear like to everyone around me—hell, what a mess I really am.

I look at the road ahead of me and decide that maybe, just maybe, in the future, someone will see me clearly enough to clue me in on who exactly I am. That is the easy way out, though. Nothing for me has ever been easy, so I guess I’m going to have to figure it out for myself.

Self-doubt hangs over me like a black cloud over a Fourth of July picnic.

I force myself to remember the conversation I had while convincing my mother to go to Europe. After hours of talking about it, I finally looked at her and said, “You are worth it.” A week later, she was gone.

Black cloud be damned. Last name be dammed. Past and present be damned. I, Madison Black, am worth it, too.

I wake up to no less pain than I felt when I finally fell asleep: pain in my chest for what I am about to face; pain in my head from the hangover; pain in my balls because she is so blatantly sexual; and a pain in my ass because, well, Madison again.

Three
, she has been with three fucking people. Never in a million years would I have guessed the girl who transforms the concrete floors of Forever Four into a runway show, works the back of a chair like a stripper pole, or makes picking up something she “drops” feel like you’re watching a porno had so few partners.

Three!

Well, fuck.

I look over to see she is leaning forward while her leg is bouncing. She looks uncomfortable. I definitely feel the same after waking up to her smell. I am instantly hard.

My dick has never had a name like every other asshole in the world until right now. He is the Cassius to my Brutus. The leader of the war I waged on one college sophomore, one sister of a friend, one coworker’s pussy last night … and this morning.

She glances over to find me staring at her tits. I close my eyes, hoping she didn’t notice.

“You awake?”

She noticed.

“I am.”

“I really have to pee,” she says with urgency in her voice.

I position the seat into a sitting position, which is fucking painful. “You should have pulled over before you got to this point.”

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

Dammit, was she being sweet? Or, was she baiting me? A Madison Black trap, perhaps?

She punches the accelerator, and I gasp, “Holy shit!”

“I’m sorry, Billy, but I know how fond you are of this car’s upholstery,” she says.

“You’re going to get a damn ticket, Madison,” I warn her calmly.

She glances over and whines, “If you keep wishing it on me, I will.”

I decide to just shut the hell up.

Madison pouts, pisses, and moans. Whining is a rarity, so she must be in some serious pain.

I see the sign. “One mile.”

“Ugh,” she says, squirming as she weaves in and out of traffic.

“Madison, you are going to draw attention to—”

She holds up one finger. “Don’t you say it.”

I nod and agree, because that one finger has me thinking about three and about the fact that, even though she and I could never have a relationship, the one guy who gets her is truly one lucky son of a bitch and probably insane. There will never be a dull moment with her; that’s for sure.

“The exit.” The excitement she has in her voice makes me laugh … until she cuts across three lanes to get to it, and it just so happens, one of the cars is a highway patrolman.

“Madison, you better slow—”

She reaches over and facepalms my head and giggles. “Sh!”

“Mads, look in the mirror,” I tell her, pulling her hand away.

I watch her eyes dart to the mirror. Then sheer panic covers her face.

“This is your fault,” she groans.

“No—”

“Well, fuck that, I’m not pissing my pants.”

She doesn’t slow down. Hell, she speeds up at the off-ramp and blows through the yellow light. Then she flies into the Quickie Mart parking lot, nearly dives out of the car before even putting it in gear, and runs into the store.

I turn off the vehicle and watch as the very angry officer walks over to the driver’s side door that she left open.

“Will you please step out of the car?”

“Yes, sir,” I say, unbuckling my seatbelt.

I walk around to the trunk, and he holds up his hand away from my body.

“Do you have any weapons?” is the first thing he asks.

“No, officer.”

“Whose vehicle is this?”

“It’s mine.”

“I need the registration and insurance information.”

“Would you like me to get that for you now?”

He looks at me like I’m stupid. “That’s why I asked.”

“Of course.” I turn around and walk to the passenger side of the car, open it, grab the information from the glove box, walk back over, and hand it to him.

“Your license?” I must look at him oddly because he glares at me. “Is there a problem?”

“No, officer.”

I grab my license and hand it to him as Madison walks out and sighs. She smiles as she walks over.

“I am so sorry, officer. I was terrified I couldn’t hold it anymore.” She places her hand low on her belly. “Our little one does not stay off my bladder. I swear this one is gonna be a gymnast.”

I cannot believe she just lied to a cop. She is going to get us thrown in jail!

“Do you have kids?” she asks, rubbing her belly.

Fucking Madison. I want to bend her over right now and use a switch on her ass.

I look at the officer as he reaches down, and all I can think is he’s going to pull a fucking gun. I step closer to Madison and actually take her hand, becoming part of this lie.

Instead, he pulls out his wallet. “Three girls. The youngest just turned a year.”

She lets go of my hand and looks at his pictures. “Absolutely beautiful.” She grins.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, but”—he leans closer—“my wife couldn’t stand road trips, and honestly, neither could I. All that stopping and starting.” He sighs, grabs my shoulder, and winks at me. “She looks tired; you should drive.”

And we are in the clear.

“I look tired?” Her bottom lip pops out in full-on pout mode, and there she is, Madison Black. We are going to end up cuffed and in the back of a squad car.

“You look amazing,” I interject, hoping she will shut up.

“Sure do, miss,” he says. “Sexy, actually.”

She dives into my chest and hugs me. “You still think I’m sexy, don’t you?”

“We need to go, dear.” I smile and pat her back.

“Not until you say it.”

“I’d say it if I were you,” the officer warns.

“You know I think you are; why do you need me to say it?” I scowl at her.

“All women need to hear their man tell them they’re sexy,” the officer interjects.

“Well, a woman like her doesn’t need to hear it all the time; she knows damn well what she does to me.” I fake a smile.

“I feel what I do to you right now … on my belly.”

The officer, Madison’s new best friend, busts up laughing. “Oh, snap!”

This is fucking ridiculous.

Madison pulls back and gives me an evil, little smirk before she turns around to the officer. “I’m really sorry about the speeding, and the—”

“Okay, let’s get you in the car.” I swear she’s going to get us arrested.

“Can I hug you?”

“Of course you can.” He looks around. “I Just hope my lady isn’t around. She’s my queen, but she may get a little angry, you know.” He opens his arms, and she hugs him.

“As long as I don’t feel you on my belly, I’m sure she—”

“Madison, get in the car,” I sneer at her.

“Looks like you made your king angry.” He winks then lets go. He looks at me and narrows his eyes then points. “You drive carefully. And don’t forget to tell your little woman she’s sexy. Not doing that is a crime.” He turns, gives Madison a wink, and then walks into the store.

“I cannot believe you.” I shake my head. “Get in the car.”

“Open the door for me.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“Are you serious right now?” I huff.

She smiles. “He’s watching.”

“Fine,” I grumble. “That’s just fine.”

Once back on the highway, I look over at her. “That was stupid, you know?”

She shrugs. “Why?”

“You lied to a cop,” I remind her sternly.

“Be happy I got out of it. I would have been so pissed at you.” She smirks.

“You had to tell him you were pregnant?”

“Oh, please, you held my hand, Mr. Innocent.”

I nod. “Fine.”

“And you kind of got jealous.” She is egging me on.

“That wasn’t what you think it was.” I give her a look meant to intimidate, knowing damn well it won’t.

“Uh-huh, sure it wasn’t.” She shakes her head.

Her phone rings through the speakers. I hit answer, and she says, “Hello?”

“Hey, where you at?”

It’s Memphis.

“I would guess about two hours away. Would be closer, but well, Billy decided to drive. Oh, and you’re on speaker.”

“Hey, Billy. Not for nothing, but the girl can drive,” Memphis comments.

“He knows I can,” Madison says then looks over and winks at me.

My mouth drops open, and she laughs inwardly.

“But I think I may go too fast for him.”

“Yeah, well, you drive better fast. Just don’t get pulled over.”

I give her a taunting look. “
Pft
.”

“Holy shit! She got pulled over, didn’t she?”

“I had to pee,” she says defensively.

“Did you piss your pants to get out of a ticket again?” Memphis chuckles.

She reaches over and disconnects the call. Then she looks at me, waiting, expecting me to say something, and dammit, I shouldn’t, but how the hell can you not?

“Should I ask why you hung up on your brother or if you really pissed yourself to get out of a ticket?”

Her eyes narrow, and I can’t help laughing.

“Hey, at least I didn’t piss in your car.”

The phone rings, and I answer immediately.

“She pissed in your car, didn’t she?” Memphis laughs, and I hear Tales giggling in the background.