Red Hot Blues by Rachel Dunning Read Free Book Online Page A

moment
when nothing was said but everything was said. I saw it in her
eyes, the way they couldn’t hold my gaze on stage, the way they ran
away from me when I talked to her outside.
    I know the crowd, the types of guys that go
for a girl who’s insecure and then get her into bed with a few
smooth words. And then dump her. I hung with that crowd. And when I
got sick of what they were doing, we had it on.
    Sure, I’ve smooth-talked it with the best of
’em. But never to a girl who didn’t know what she was getting into.
I’ve smooth talked it with girls who knew damn well it was a one
night thing and that’s it. Dudes who push up on babes that have
confidence issues just for a one night stand are scum.
    Bobby was scum. Jed was scum. Lewis was scum.
They were all scum.
    Cowboy Hat Dude at the ATM machine reminded
me of these boys. My “friends” once upon a time.
    So I introduced myself to her, and I snuggled
up next to her. Just to make Cowboy Hat Man know I was interested
in her, and that he should back off.
    And then her perfume hit me...
    Damn. Why do girls have to do that shit? I
don’t know what scent it was, only that it made me want to sit next
to her for a lot longer than I’d planned.
    I kept my eyes on Cowboy Hat, made sure I
radiated the vibe She’s mine at him. He frowned. I smiled. I
talked to her more, and then we did a set.
    I hadn’t planned on doing a set with her. But
when that scent hit me...
    Well, I got into character.
    That was before the voice, of course.
    Peace.
    I wanted to kiss her, right up there on
stage. I wanted to run my hand through her dark hair and undress
her. This is why:
    She has sex appeal. Raw, pure, human, sex
appeal.
    I’ve never seen it before. Sure, I’ve seen
plenty skanks, plenty sluts, plenty “sexy” girls. None of them had
raw, fleshy, carnal sex appeal. That’s a whole different quality.
All of them had allure. All of them had something that made my cock
twitch and react. But that’s not sex appeal.
    I always thought sex appeal had to do with
how tight a girl’s ass is, how long her legs are, how firm her tits
are.
    It has jack to do with these things. It has
to do with the whole package.
    Was I going to stay in Nashville? Not a
chance. I was just riding through. But I want to see her again. I’m
not really sure what I want after that. I could get her into
bed. I know I could. It’s just something...I’m able to do.
I’m not trying to sound like a chauvinist. It’s just...something
I’m good at.
    But I won’t do that. Because I’d hurt her.
I’m bad for her. She’s not the one-night type. I can see that.
    I might be good at getting a girl into bed,
but I’m good at nothing else.
    Sex, Rock n Roll, and pain. This is all I
have to offer the world. Story of my life, and that’s why I’m on
the road.
    Because I ain’t got nowhere to go.
-18-
    I’ll kick it up in Memphis for a few days. I
heard Beale Street is awesome. Great blues, great whiskey. Maybe
I’ll hit Chattanooga, check out Lookout Mountain or Rock City, the
Market Street Bridge. And then I’ll come back here. Tuesday. To
play and sing with Ginger. The girl with the blue eyes, the long
wisps of curling black hair in front of her ears, and that carnal
appeal.
    The girl who has no idea how sexy she really
is.
    The girl I promise not to take to bed, but
with whom that’s all I want to do.
    The girl whose voice brings me such
screaming peace.
    I never said I had my head on straight.
That’s another reason I’m on the road.
-19-
    Cowboy Man was heading straight for her after
the encore. Swaying is more like it. I walked directly into him,
grabbed his shirt, pushed him outside with my chest. He almost fell
over. He didn’t know what hit him. I stood in his way. He
swayed.
    It would be too easy, so I didn’t hit
him.
    Would I be hitting him for Ginger, this girl
I’d said three sentences to and sung four songs with? Nope. I
wanted to hit him because sometimes I just need to hit someone.