The Gig

by Franki Tollefson

It was late. The gig had gone on until long after one in the morning. By now, he was exhausted and not a little intoxicated. It had been fun; the first time he'd played another bar since he opened Joe's two years ago. It was nice, not having to clean up afterwards. On the other hand, he still had a three hour drive ahead of him. At this rate, by the time he got home it would be time to open the bar.

"Joe!"

He was about to head into his dressing room, when he heard a woman call his name. Turning back, he noticed several people standing near the door, obviously hoping to talk with him for a moment. Smiling to himself, he walked back to them. He really wasn't ready for the evening to be over. He chatted with them for a few minutes, telling stories and a few risque jokes. He'd forgotten what it was like to be 'the performer,' the attention was different than he got in his own bar.

I could get used to this, he thought with a chuckle. He wouldn't, though. As much as he enjoyed the attention, he wasn't interested in a performing career. The life he led would not stand up well to public scrutiny. He made the choice a long time ago; watching was important to him and he had no regrets. Still, it was nice occasionally, to get the attention. He reminded himself to thank Richie for talking him into this. With MacLeod at the cabin with Amanda, there wasn't a lot of watching to be done. Too soon, one of the bouncers came back and announced the bar was closing.

"Nobody's allowed back here, but the band. Bar's closing, time to go folks." Joe ignored him for the moment, continuing to chat. The bouncer said it again, more forcefully and the people reluctantly turned to leave.

Once they were gone, Joe walked back to his dressing room. Without the distraction, the exhaustion was beginning to take its toll. Sitting down heavily on the sofa, he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to relax. After a moment, he reached over and picked up the acoustical guitar one of the roadies had brought back to the room. Opening the case, he pulled it out and began to softly play.

He didn't realize he'd left the door open until he glanced up and saw the woman standing in the doorway. She looked familiar and after a second he placed her. She was in the group he was chatting with a few minutes ago. She had stood in back, listening, but not saying anything. Now, she was leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded, quietly watching and listening to him play.

Realizing he'd noticed her, she spoke, "Oh, don't stop. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You didn't," he answered with a smile. "Can I help you?"

"I'm sorry," she laughed a little. Raising her hand, she started rubbing at her throat; it was obviously a nervous habit. "I left something and came back to find it. When I heard the music, I couldn't resist following the sound."

He chuckled at that, "Just call me the pied piper..."

That made her laugh again. Sobering after a moment, she went on, "I'd better go. If that guy who threw us out finds me..."

"I think he's gone," he said quietly. "Besides he won't care if you're in here with me."

"Don't you care?" she asked, with a puzzled look.

"To be honest, I was getting a little bored."

"Why don't you leave?" she asked. "I'm heading home after this. It's a long way; I thought I'd better wait until I was more sober."

"Well, I'm the driver tonight, so I haven't had anything to drink."

"That's depressing," he teased.

"The music was intoxicating enough," she answered with a shrug. Realizing after a moment what she'd said, she blushed a little.

"Thank you," he answered with a smile.

She looked away, still blushing. When she didn't look back, he started playing softly again. He could see her relax a little at the sound and after a while, she turned back to him.

He was still watching her and their eyes locked. He held her gaze for a moment, then deliberately looked down at his guitar, releasing her. She was getting to him. Over the years, he'd gotten used to women following him backstage; he rarely took it seriously. Why was this one so distracting? He should be packing up, getting ready to leave, not sitting back here giving a private concert to a total stranger. She didn't really feel like a stranger, though. He almost felt like he knew her.

He played quietly for a few minutes, sensing her tension ease as she listened. Coming to the end of the song, he continued to play quietly. Without looking up, he spoke again, "Have you ever heard me play before?"

"I've been to your bar a few times," she answered. "I always drop by when I'm in town."

"Really?" her answer startled him. That must be why she felt so familiar. "Is there something you wanted to hear that I didn't play?"

"Well..." she hesitated.

"Well... what?" he asked, when she didn't go on.

Her voice was soft, uncertain, but she managed to name a ballad he occasionally played right before closing.

"I considered it," he said with a smile. "Somehow, the crowd didn't sound like they were interested in anything quite that..."

"...passionate?" she finished for him.

He raised an eyebrow at that. "I was going to say 'slow.'"

"Oh," her hand came up to her throat again.

"Relax," he said, gently teasing. "I don't bite."

Her own eyebrow went up at that, "You don't? Pity..."

The comment startled him a little, and he reassessed her. He was beginning to suspect if he could get past her initial shyness, she might have a pretty good sense of humor. She was also turning out to be more of a flirt than he'd expected.

Realizing he was staring, he went back to playing. He played a few random bars, then settled into the ballad she'd mentioned. As the song went on, she stepped into the room and closed the door. There wasn't anyplace to sit other than the sofa and after a moment of hesitation, she took a couple of steps and sat down next to him. As he played for her, he argued with himself. He couldn't believe he was even considering this. He got plenty of offers, even when he was playing at home; he wasn't in the habit of accepting them. Intimacy was never a game for him. Of course, she hadn't offered. So far, she hadn't done anything that couldn't be explained by a genuine interest in his music. Maybe that was why he found her so intriguing. Why was she here? Suddenly, he needed to know for sure. He came to the end of the song, but continued to play quietly. She seemed more relaxed when he was playing.

"Where are your friends?"

"What?" she asked, startled. "You said you were the driver. Where are your friends?"

"Oh," she said. "They walked down to an all night diner. I told them to go ahead and order; I'm not hungry."

"So, you've got a little time?" he asked quietly, keeping his eyes on the guitar.

She didn't try to pretend she didn't understand. "A while."

He looked up at the subtle change in her voice. He looked directly at her and for once, she didn't glance away. After a moment, he reached up and began to unfasten the shoulder strap on his guitar. When it was loose, he leaned over and set the guitar on the floor. Before sitting up, he glanced over at her again. She wasn't expecting it and didn't manage to hide the desire in her eyes.

Slowly, he raised up, not taking his eyes off her. Raising one hand, he brushed her hair back gently. Bending his fingers, he ran the backs of them down her cheek. He wanted to touch the place on her throat that she kept worrying. He opened his hand, and touched the spot, unconsciously mimicking the motion she'd used. She glanced away, looking a little embarrassed.

"My fingers are a little calloused," he said, trying to distract her.

"Are they?" she asked, without looking at him. "I didn't notice."

He felt her swallow against his fingers. Moving his hand a little bit, he caught her chin and turned her to face him. "What's your name?" he asked softly.

"Jess," she answered softly, looking straight at him this time.

"It's nice to meet you, Jess," he said, with a touch of humor.

She laughed softly at that and he leaned in quickly, covering her smile with a kiss. He felt her breath catch, but she didn't pull away. Letting his hand slide behind her neck, he pulled her tighter against him, deepening the kiss. He felt her hands on his chest, palms open. There wasn't any pressure, she was just touching him. The kiss was slow, sweet. Touching and tasting, learning the different textures of each other.

Their position was a little awkward. Pulling his hand away from her neck, he reached around her. Tightening his arm, he pulled her toward him. She turned, sliding a leg across him and ending up on her knees facing him across his lap. Joe reached up, sliding his hands behind her head, angling her gently and pulling her more firmly against his lips. Jess pulled away from his lips finally, and rubbed her cheek against his whiskers. Using her hands, she tipped his head back and began to nibble at his throat. He moved his hands from behind her head to her back, pulling her toward him.

She kissed him, then pulled gently away and began to unbutton her blouse. When she had the buttons half open, he reached up catching her hands. Leaning in, he pulled the edges back, kissing the swell of her breast, then finished unbuttoning it himself. He pushed the blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall partly down her arms. Pulling her back to him, he kissed her again. She returned his kiss, while pulling the blouse completely off. Dropping it next to them on the sofa, she slipped her hands between them and pushed his vest off his shoulders. He broke the kiss and pulled the vest off as she began tugging at his T-shirt, pulling it loose from his jeans. Once it was free, she slipped her hands underneath it and ran her fingers through the hair on his chest. Getting frustrated by the lack of access, she pulled her hands back out and reached for the hem. She tugged for a moment, then dropped her hands as he moved to help. Pulling the shirt off, he tossed it on top of her blouse, as she pulled his mouth back to hers. He felt her tongue flick across his lips and opened to her. Her hands moved back to his chest, sliding across until she reached his nipples. Settling there, she moved her thumbs in slow circles around the tight nubs. He slid his hands behind her, starting to unfasten her bra, but she pulled away, standing quickly. He reached for her, but she stepped out of range.

"I'll be back in a minute. We need something."

He realized what she meant and remembered he'd seen a vending machine in the men's room. She obviously knew where she was going, there must be one in the women's room, too. She picked up his T-shirt and pulled it on. He started to suggest she might not want to wear the sweaty shirt, then realized it was her way of promising she was coming back.

A few minutes later, she returned. Closing the door behind her, she tossed a couple of small packages next to him on the sofa and began to undress. He leaned back and watched her. She pulled the T-shirt off, dropped it, then unfastened and removed her jeans. As she walked toward him, she reached behind her back and unfastened her bra. She got the clasp open as she stopped in front of him. He reached up and pulled the bra off, as she pushed her panties down and knelt back over his lap. His erection had faded after she pulled away, but had renewed itself quickly as he watched her undress.

He slipped his arms around her, hugging her against him for a moment, then lifting his face as she began to kiss him. Pulling away from her kiss, he moved his mouth to her breasts. Using his hands to cup them, he took one nipple into his mouth as he used his fingers to tease the other. Pulling away for a moment, he slid his fingers into his mouth wetting them. Returning his mouth to a nipple, he began to roll the other between his damp fingers. Jess started slowly rocking against the hard bulge in his jeans. The rhythmic stimulation was beginning to distract him. Without realizing it, he began to move with her, pressing into her movements.

Noticing what he was doing, she reached between them to unfasten his jeans. Joe caught at her hands, stopping her.

"I'll do it," he said softly.

She looked up at him, with a puzzled expression. After a moment, he saw the understanding. He preferred to do this himself the first time; he was never sure what sort of reaction the prostheses would cause. He wouldn't need to remove them, not with her sitting across his lap, but she would still see the straps. He unfastened his jeans, pushing them open and reaching inside to free himself. Glancing up, he saw her watching him calmly. The only emotion he could see was desire.

As soon as he had his erection free, she reached for him. Wrapping her hand around his shaft, she began to stroke him. Sliding his hands up her thighs, he pressed his thumbs into her, stroking and spreading her moisture over her. As he slid a thumb up a bit, he heard her catch her breath. Pressing against the hard bundle of nerves, he rubbed in tiny circles. Her hand on his penis began to falter as his stimulation distracted her. Reaching down, she caught his wrist and pulled his hand away. She leaned over and picked up the small package she'd gone to find a few minutes before and opened it, pulling the condom out. Sliding off his lap, she knelt in front of him. Quickly, she rolled the condom down over his hard shaft. Once it was on, she stroked him a couple of times, then stood up and returned to his lap. Raising up on her knees, she guided him into her. She pressed down and he felt himself slide into her hot depths.

"Mmmmmmmmmm," he whispered a little incoherently.

After a moment, she began to rock, not letting him slip out of her, just moving with him. Finally, she began to really move, stroking up and down rhythmically. He reached up and raised her breast back to his mouth. Suckling for a moment, then gently nipping at her.

"You said you didn't bite," she whispered in a husky voice.

"I lied," he answered.

Their voices gave out then as their bodies began to lose control. He sucked hard on her nipple and felt her body begin to spasm around him. He heard a soft whimper and she lost control, tensing and releasing around him. As her climax began to slow, his own took hold and he stopped thinking and just let himself feel. The pleasure overwhelmed him, throbbing rhythmically and making him moan softly as the waves washed over him.

When he was finally able to think again, he relaxed back, holding her against him. She lowered her head to his shoulder, completely limp for the moment. Wrapping his arms around her, he cuddled her against him. When she didn't move, he leaned in and began to kiss and nibble at her throat. Raising her head finally, she smiled, looking a little sleepy.

"I have to go. They're going to send the dogs after me."

He nodded, not speaking, but continued to hold her. She lowered her head back down, but after a minute or two she reached down between them. Wrapping her hand around the base of his penis, she held the condom in place as she pulled away. She kissed him, then pulled the condom off and tossed it into the trashcan. Picking up her clothes, she began to dress quickly.

At first, he just watched her. Finally, he started to dress as well, pulling the T-shirt she tossed him back on, tucking it in and refastening his jeans. Reaching for his cane, he pulled himself to his feet.

She finished dressing and stepped toward him. He could see her hesitate, and realized she didn't know if he was firm enough on his feet to let her touch him. He held his hand out and she moved against him. Lowering his mouth to her, he kissed her tenderly.

She turned to go and then stopped, turning back to him. "I don't suppose you'd like to join me?"

He could see the tension in her; she wasn't sure what this had meant to him.

"I'd like that," he answered, smiling. "I'm starving."

She frowned a little considering, "You know, I'm hungry too."

He chuckled at that, then sobered quickly. "And after we eat?"

"I thought you were going home," she said softly.

"Maybe tomorrow," he answered, kissing her again. She grinned at that, then frowned as he reached for the door.

"What's wrong?" he asked, puzzled by the change in her expression. "How am I going to explain this to my friends?"

***

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