My Oh My
Yeah, a little bit older, a black leather jacket
A bad reputation, insatiable habits
He was onto me, one look and I couldn't breathe, yeah
I said, if he kissed me, I might let it happen (Oh)
-Camilla Cabello
Chapter 1
Andrea Moss was a good(ish) girl. She didn't stay out past midnight if she could help it. She didn't drink, much, anyway. She did have tattoos, but they were not the result of teenage fads and drunken mistakes, but rather art she found beautiful and timeless.
Really, Andrea hated the word 'boring' and preferred the word 'safe' when describing herself. She was always playing it safe, it seemed. There had been a time of teenage rebellion – sneaking out with friends, tagging buildings, and parties. But compared to some of her friends, Andrea had really turned out well. She was still alive, not ODed or in a ditch.
So why was she out past her bedtime in the company of strangers tonight?
Reluctantly, Andrea had agreed to meet some friends at this dive bar to see a band she had not heard of. Safety in numbers and designated driver.
However, she did not realize everyone had bailed until she was already in the bar.
Why not live on the wild side tonight? She wondered, sipping from a water bottle.
There was already quite a crowd – tattooed, bearded, colorful, young. Andrea liked rock music, but more the classics. She still collected vinyl for Christ's sake. Over the years, Andrea had amassed quite a collection – Rolling Stones to Clash to Hendrix.
Her older sister, Claire, had passed down a lot of her collection when she got married and started having children. There was simply no room for those things and children, at least, that was the excuse she fed Andrea.
Really, Andrea figured it was more her brother-in-law's decision. Mark was a nice enough guy on the surface, but he had some demons. Their parents had died when Andrea was young, so there had been no objections to the marriage from immediate family.
Andrea had been raised by her aunt, Astoria, who was eccentric but harmless. It was better than being under Mark's thumb all the time.
The lights flickered around her, signaling the beginning of the show. An Emcee came out to hype the crowd, not that they needed assistance. The crowd was already cheering and yelling obscenities.
Andrea could smell the stale piss of cheap beer, cigarettes, and sweaty bodies crushed together in such a small space. Damn her friends for being flakes. The crowd was raucous as the lights dimmed and flickered again.
The banner behind the equipment proclaimed the band to be dubbed "Dancing Dead." The name sounded cool enough.
She watched as a few guys came out to deafening noise. In the dark, Andrea really couldn't make out more than shapes. There was some instrument tuning, chords thrummed, the bass drum kicking, a few taps on the snare.
It had been a long time since Andrea had attended a live show.
At just 5'4," she usually ended up behind someone extremely tall and couldn't see. Then there were the rough shows, where you ended up pushed around the floor, crushed by bodies, and feeling as close to being buried alive as possible minus the dirt. She had never desired to crowd surf; she just didn't trust people not to drop her.
Andrea was in no way considered slender, except maybe her fingers. She was curvy, plus sized, a little overweight. Her stomach had a little flab, easily slimmed under shapers for nice events. Her arms and thighs were muscular though from constant movement. Guys liked to oogle her ample breasts, but they didn't have to try to find cute shirts to fit over the damn things.
Andrea was the receptionist for a popular tattoo parlor, but she was constantly moving. It drove her manager, Poe Dameron, crazy. If she wasn't booking appointments, she was setting up or breaking down stations, cleaning, organizing, even dancing if business was slow enough.
Suddenly, bright light filled the small room as the black shapes were illuminated.
Andrea's eyes took a few seconds to adjust, seeing spots in orange, purple, blue, all with glowing orbs. She blinked bright green eyes, trying to focus on something.
Finally, she settled on the front man. He was speaking, his voice low and warm as he introduced his band and their first song. At least, that's what Andrea seemed to think anyway. The crowd was just a roar in the small space. Tomorrow she would have such a case of tinnitus.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The front man was huge. He wasn't just tall, but broad-shouldered. Andrea suspected his arms were probably muscular too, but they were hidden beneath a beat-up black leather jacket. Long legs with powerful thighs encased in matte leather.
But his face. Commanding Roman nose, full lips, pale skin peppered with a smattering of freckles, and deep eyes. From where she was standing, Andrea couldn't discern their exact color, but thought perhaps hazel. He rocked an anchor goatee and mustache, providing a more retro feel. Dark hair fell in waves around his face and ears, just kissing the top of his shoulders.
As he started to sing, it took Andrea a little while to actually hear the lyrics. She was so intent on his deep, husky voice. The lyrics were typical love ballads – love lost and won, heart-broken, trysts.
Andrea found that she had to shift around a little to accommodate the growing heat between her legs. There were tingles racing up her spine as he sang, raw emotion on his face. Large hands held his guitar with almost a lover's touch. Long fingers gently plucked notes, working the wood and strings.
The thought flitted across Andrea's mind more than once about how those fingers would feel rubbing and stroking her wet clit. He would be able to play her too. God, those lips would be capable of such naughty things. She bet his tongue was long and skilled, just like the rest of him.
Lost in fantasy, it took Andrea a few second to realize someone was calling her name.
"What?" she asked, looking beside her. Her boss was standing there holding a beer and smirking.
"Hey. Jeeze, not you too," he said, shouting over the noise.
"Huh?"
"Dancing Dead? A lot of the fans come just to look at Kylo Ren," Poe said, pointing to the front man Andrea had been shamelessly ogling. Not only ogling but had gotten caught.
"Oh, I was supposed to be here with friends, but they all bailed," Andrea confessed.
"Their loss. I'm here for the music," Poe shrugged, "and the beer. Want me to introduce you?"
Andrea nearly lost her grip on her half-empty water bottle.
"You know them?"
"Yeah, I did some work for Kylo way back. Stick around," Poe told her taking another pull of his beer.
But with the new information, Andrea found she couldn't concentrate on the lyrics. Butterflies beat a healthy tattoo in her stomach.
Kylo took a long swig of his water as he wiped his face with a towel. The lights on the smaller stages just didn't compare with bigger venues. While more intimate with the crowd meant hotter lights because everything was cramped in these dive bars.
But this was home. He hadn't played this bar since they had started a few years ago. With their rise in popularity, it was hard to find these places that would take them on now.
The front half of the venue was just a mass of skin and color. He couldn't differentiate specifics about fans with the bright lights reflected up at him. Instead, Kylo chose a spot further out in the crowd, nearer the bar to focus on. If the bar itself hadn't been so dimly lit, Kylo would have probably picked the bar tender to chose as his point of focus.
Instead, he selected a girl standing in front of the bar who didn't seem to be attached to anyone. Most of the crowd was in front of her. She stood pressed up against the wooden edge of the bar surface, sipping water.
In the varying color lighting, her hair blazed with purple and green, deep reds and blues, depending on the song. Shock was evident on her face when he had started singing, so he figured not a usual fan. Soon her water was forgotten, and he just watched her range of expressions whenever possible.
Most diehard fans sang along, knew every song probably better than he did. While he appreciated their love of his lyrics, it was sometimes refreshing to see someone who had never heard their music. He liked her surprise, how it was projected on her face. Plus, she didn't look like 90% of their fans.
During his water break, he could see someone who looked familiar standing beside the focus girl. Kylo tried to think about where he had seen the man's face.
His bassist, Armitage, was talking to the crowd about something; his drawling accent making the nearest girls melt. Kylo tried not to roll his eyes. It was probably something about how they were taking time off to go back in the studio; they had been touring for about a year on this record.
To keep up in this cutthroat business, they needed to put new material out to stay relevant.
Problem was, Kylo couldn't stand his two bandmates. He glanced back at Finn on the drums. His dislike of Finn had everything to do with how the drummer had stolen his romantic interest, Rey. His dislike of Armitage Hux was completely different.
Though Kylo was the front man, Hux was constantly trying to undermine him and take over the band's direction. He couldn't write lyrics for shit, but he could present himself in just a certain way that made everyone think Hux was in charge.
As Kylo started playing again, it finally occurred to him who the man in the back way. Poe something or other. He had worked on Kylo's sleeve some, when Kylo was still just Ben.
One thing about becoming a rock star was that no one had to know your real name. As soon as the group had gained popularity, Ben had started calling himself Kylo Ren. It was a throwback to his favorite band growing up, Knights of Ren. The band that had inspired him to leave home at eighteen and start his career.
It had been tough; there had been a lot of couch surfing, lots of hungry and sleepless nights. It had been worth it. They had adoring fans worldwide, huge sales, magazine covers.
Kylo just didn't have someone to share it with, not since the disaster with Rey. Sure, he could have his pick of groupies, his bed could always be warm. And when he had been feeling so raw, so exposed, he had fucked any girl that was willing.
But after a little while, the groupies all started looking the same. Girls dressed in short, tight dresses, with at least 4" heels, and a pound of makeup. Kylo started pushing them off on Hux, who didn't mind in the least.
However, his womanizing reputation still followed him. That's what all the gossip sites and magazines wanted to talk about if they got the chance.
Kylo watched his focus girl, wondering if she was local.
After the show, it would have been nice to be able to get a beer at the bar without being accosted. But his duty was to his fans.
Kylo sat and signed autographs and hugged fans as much as possible. All the while, he kept his eye on the focus girl at the bar. She was talking to Poe quietly and Kylo felt a little surge of irrational jealousy.
In the lights, he could make out more about her as he stole glances in between fans.
He called her girl, because she seemed younger, maybe early twenties. Kylo was approaching thirty. Her long, deep chestnut hair was swept over one shoulder, with one side of her head buzzed short. She had a heart-shaped face, minimal makeup, and carefully lined eyes.
Unlike many of their younger fans who dressed in very dark colors, focus girl was dressed in cutoff jean shorts with a red flannel shirt tied about her sturdy waist, and a striped tank top. He could see very visible ink on her thighs, arms, and chest.
The tattoos were well done, clean lines and bright colors. There were flowers and mandala-type designs. Kylo was a sucker for tattoos on pretty women.
This girl was so different from the kinds that usually threw themselves at him. He felt his groin tighten the more he looked at her. It had been a long time since he had been with anyone but his hand.
She had wide hips and generous thighs; he could imagine burying himself between her legs, feeling her muscled calves wrap around his waist. He would be able to thrust deep and long into her, without being afraid of breaking her unlike women he had been with in the past.
Didn't Queen do a song about fat bottomed girls making the rocking world go around?
He understood now as he glanced at her ass. She had a shapely butt that he wouldn't mind spanking, given the chance.
As Poe made this girl laugh, her bosom jiggled with the effort. Kylo felt his erection digging into the zipper of his pants. These leather pants always seemed like a good idea until now. He tried to move his legs a little to lessen the pressure. Instead, his pants seemed to grow a little bit tighter.
Those mounds would fit in his large hands so well; he could bury his face in her chest, letting the tender globes brush his face. His facial hair would probably tickle her as he claimed a pink bud and sucked until her toes curled and she moaned his name.
"Hey, earth to Kylo," someone said, waving their hand inches from his face.
He shook himself. Poe was standing in front of him since most of the line was gone.
"Oh, hey," he said. He glanced to see where the focus girl was, finding her right Poe.
"Hey. So, you remember me, right? I did your dragon sleeve?" Poe gestured to somewhere beneath the jacket.
"Yeah, how are you?" He took Poe's hand and shook it.
"Great. This is Andrea, my receptionist slash assistant." The girl behind Poe waved, big smile lighting up her features. She had bright green eyes. "Anyway, I saw you were back in town and wanted to say hey. See if you needed any work done."
Kylo had to smirk. Poe was ever the businessman. "Yeah, I was thinking about getting some new work done. I'll be in town for a while."
"Great." Poe pulled out a business card and handed it across the table. "Just give us a call when you're ready. Andrea will set you up."
"Okay," Kylo said, letting his gaze flick over Andrea once more. He knew that he would be placing a call at the first available opportunity.
"Awesome show," Andrea told him, also shaking his hand. "I had fun."
"Thanks," Kylo told her. Her hand was warm and smooth, getting lost in his grip.
He watched the pair of them leave with the rest of the crowd as the bar started closing for the night. He tucked the business card in his cell phone case so it wouldn't get lost.
"I'll be back," Kylo told his bandmates as he set off for the bathroom.
"Sure thing," Finn said, still chatting with the bar tender. Hux just glared up at him from his cell phone and continued texting.
For a dive bar, the bathroom wasn't too bad. Kylo had hoped that his raging hard on would disappear if he splashed some water on his face and breathed.
However, after a few minutes of waiting, trying not to think, Kylo knew he was fighting a losing battle. It had been too long, and he was too worked up. He carefully unzipped his pants and palmed his hard member.
Quickly, he worked his cock, picturing the stranger's hips and breasts, his hands on them fondling, his mouth sucking. He bet she tasted like a mixture of sweet and spicy. How good it would feel to thrust into a girl who could take it, a girl with a little extra cushion. She had hips he could grab and pound into.
With little warning, Kylo spilled his hot cum into his hand with a groan. He was panting, pale cheeks flushed with color. His release felt great. It had been tough to take care of himself on the tour bus with little more than curtains separating him from the other guys.
He knew he would sleep well tonight, for the first night in a long while.