Chapter 62: Sound Check and Beyond

Jon’s guitar strap was fixed, hair pins picked up, and the bowl of blue M&Ms (labeled as Smurf balls; I am GSA after all) was ensconced in his dressing room. In fact, since I had to buy more than two dozen bags of M&Ms to fill the bowl with just blue, and because I’m a type-A, anal personality who wanted to be ready for anything, I had separated out all the colors into their own bags, and hidden them in Jon’s dressing room. Just in case.

Tony (yeah, that Tony. I nearly shit myself) had a short list of things to do. He was a real sweetie, trying not to have me do too much; he wanted me to enjoy sound check. Jon was having none of it, though, and was berating Tony for treating me like spun glass. “She’s fine,” he said into the mic. “Put her to work.” So he did.

I had a hard time enjoying myself because Jon had me running all over the damned arena with light meters and sound measurers, and I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but I was wired to Tony and delivering my readings in a very low voice when asked. Jon had me running from front to back and up and down the whole place – no wonder he wanted me to wear sneakers.

On my third trip to the back of the arena, I heard Tony in my ear. “Hath?” I clicked the little button to let him know I heard him – I was getting the hang of this. He spoke again. “You’re really being a good sport about this. I would have told him to go fuck himself a thousand times by now. You know that this is all totally unnecessary, right?”

I clicked back a “yep” and Tony laughed. “You know, you don’t really have to be quiet,” he said. “Your voice doesn’t pick up on the equipment at all.”

“Fuck me!” I yelled from the back of the arena.

In my ear, Tony muttered, “Well that did,” and started laughing.

The acoustics in the arena were wonderful; the guys heard me up on stage, and started laughing. The girls heard me too and thought it was hysterical. Glad to see they’re on my side, ha ha, the traitors.

David spoke into his mic, “Jon, man, we’re done, yeah? Sounds like my woman needs me,” and everybody laughed harder. Jon flashed me a grin that I could see from my nosebleed view, and I flipped him off. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face, though. He is good at this.

“Aw, Hath, darlin’,” he said into his mic, “I was only having a little bit of fun.”

I tried to throw a scowl at him but couldn’t quite pull it off. I stalked to the stage, and stopped dead center in front of that white mic stand. Looking up sweetly at Jon, I said, “You suck. It’s a good thing I’ve decided not to get back at you for the bouquet.”

“You decided?” he asked, hopping down and shaking his head. “Darlin’, that one would be hard to top.” He wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulders and kissed her soundly.

“Now, I’ll admit your little prank was pretty damned good,” I said as we three walked to the booth to give Tony back his gear, “but I’m pretty damned good, too.” I pulled a face at him. “But what with your birthday coming up and all, I thought I’d give you a pass. Besides,” I sighed. “I need to concentrate my powers of evil on coming up with something really good for David for April Fool’s Day.”

“His favorite holiday,” we both said together, and laughed.

Sam just shook her head and chuckled. “Ya’ll are spending WAY too much time together,” she said.

“I know,” I said, sticking my tongue out at Jon.

He just laughed at me. “I have to come up with a good prank to play on Sambora,” he said. “I owe him.” I looked at him and just smiled. “What?” Jon asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing, it’s just that when you said initially that you were going to get Richie to help you come up with annoying stuff for me to do, I started thinking about paybacks for him, and I thought of a doozie, but I never would have done it, and you shouldn’t either.”

“Oh, you have to tell me now,” Jon said.

I sighed and colored slightly. “Marzipan guitar picks,” I said. Sam burst out laughing.

“Tell me more,” Jon said. There was a wicked gleam in his eyes.

I shrugged. “You give a pastry chef one of Richie’s picks; have him make up a bunch of them in marzipan. They can do amazing things with food coloring; they’ll look just like the original. Substitute just a few of them on his mic stand for the real thing. Voila. His head is now messed with for the whole show, and he’ll be biting all his picks before using them for a LONG time.”

Sam had tears in her eyes. “Oh my God, I could just picture the look on his face as the picks crumble,” she said. “Dayum, Hath, that’s good,” she said to me.

I shrugged. “It’s what I do,” I said. “If David played guitar, I’d do that to HIM, but…” I sighed. “I have to think of something else good.”

Jon looked over his shoulder at the others, who weren’t paying us any attention, then gave me an evil grin. “That’s better than good, that’s pure evil. Do any of the others know about this?” I shook my head. “Good,” he said. “You may have just given me the prank of all pranks to play on Sambora.”

My eyes went wide. “You wouldn’t really do that to him!”

“Hell, yeah, I would,” Jon said laughing.

I groaned. “You tell him the idea came from me, Bongiovi, and LK’s daddy will be walking around with my foot up his ass.”

Jon looked at Sam, who smiled at me. Jon said, “You, my dear Jeeves, have just earned yourself a reward.”

“A day off?” I asked, hopefully; grinning like a fool.

“Hell no,” Jon said. “How would you like to help Steve tonight?”

My smile dropped right off my face. “Are you fucking with me again?”

“Nope,” he said. “Sam said you really would enjoy it, and you’ve been a helluva good sport so far. What do you say?”

“I say hell yeah and thank you!” I leapt forward to hug Jon, then jumped back. “Sorry,” I said, blushing.

“That’s alright, Hath,” Jon said. “I was ready for you that time.”

I smiled. “Do me a favor and don’t tell David, OK?”

“Why? What are you going to do?” Jon asked. “You can’t fuck up the show.”

I told him about David coming to my office one day dressed like a slut in excessively tight clothes. Jon laughed his ass off when I told him I thought he put David up to it, and said he wished he’d thought of that. Sam joined in the laughter when I related how I’d asked David if he’d like it if I went to his work dressed like a slut, and he said “Hell yeah”. I wanted to accommodate him, and I had just the outfit.

“Is it black?” Jon asked.

“Yep, all of it, down to the stiletto boots.”

“Go for it,” he said, warily. “But don’t distract him too much.”

Oh my God.

I hung out with the girls and Matt for the rest of sound check, and we were singing along and dancing with each other and making faces at the guys and generally being pains in the ass. The guys started fooling around, too, and they started “Let’s Make It Baby”, and Ang and I took one look at each other, glanced up at David, and started dancing together. Yeah, like that. David dropped off altogether, and was just standing there, staring at us.

I was “Limpeted” to Ang, and she had her hands on my hips and we were pretty sure David’s pants were uncomfortably tight now. She leaned down and whispered, “roll with it,” to me, then reached around in front of me to unzip my hoodie. I slid it from my shoulders, eyes locked on David. Richie said “Holy Shit” into the talkbox, and Ang and I practically fell down laughing. God, they were SO easy. Even Hughie gaped at us. Soon we were all laughing uncontrollably and any pretense of them doing work was gone. Jon checked the time, and told us they needed to select their wardrobe for tonight anyway, and called an end to sound check. “We’ll help,” we all said. Ang and I went into David’s dressing room and pawed through his stage clothes. I took the pants, Ang took the shirts.

“Nothing,” she said, looking through the rack of shirts.

“Didn’t you say you were bringing him something?” I asked her. I had found a pair of black pants that I knew would hug him just the right amount, and smiled. A silver chain connected to a of couple belt loops would leave a good portion trailing down one powerful thigh. I had to cut that out before I embarrassed myself here.

Ang smiled back and reached into her voluminous bag, and pulled out some GORgeous shirts. We picked one that was still flamboyant, but better than what we found in his wardrobe. It looked like liquid silver, and would catch the light beautifully.

That done, we went to meet the others, and head back to the hotel. “Jeeves,” Jon called just before we got to the door, “Be back here before 8,” he said. “I need you to do some stuff.” He winked at me. That was code for I needed to check in with Steve, and find out what exactly I needed to do. That way, David wouldn’t be suspicious of me being around backstage but not with him.

“You got it, boss,” I yelled back, and the last thing I heard was the laughter of the guys when Jon told them to start calling him ‘boss’ like I was.

After dinner at the hotel, we went up to David’s room to get ready for the show. When I pulled my outfit from the suitcase, the girls were shocked. The whole outfit fit in a single gallon-sized Ziploc storage bag. Well, not the boots, but the rest of it.

“What the hell is that?” Ang asked.

“This is my outfit in black for work tonight,” I said with an evil grin.

“Holy shit,” Steph said. “You are SO going to get yelled at.”

“What can he do? As long as I don’t do anything but walk out there and do what I’m supposed to do, he can’t complain. No winks, no smiles, no extra ass-shake; nothin’,” I said.

Stephanie left to get changed in Matt's room. Guess she wanted some quality time with her man. She said they'd meet us later.

Sam just shook her head. “He’s gonna kill you, but it’ll be SO worth it. I say do it.”

That’s all I needed to hear. Once I was sufficiently cleaned and primped and made up, I pulled a black garter belt and fishnet thigh-highs from the bag and put them on. High-cut black lace panties went over (I don’t do thongs. Don’t like wedgies, so why the hell pay for one?) A black leather micro-mini came out next, and barely covered the little garter-belt straps. I pulled out a cropped lace bustier, and laced it on over my unslung girls. You wouldn’t be sure if you were seeing skin or flesh-colored netting underneath. It looked really dirty. Smiling, I pulled on my very favorite knee-high CFM black boots, two inches of silver bangles, big silver hoop earrings, and bling that made Jon’s skull necklace look modest. I threw the girls a wink. “What do you think?” I asked, spinning around.

My hair was all tousled like I just had a tryst in the coat closet, my makeup was light, except for the glittery false eyelashes and blood red lipstick, and you could see my tramp stamp and a good two inches of cleavage.

“You cannot go out like that, Slutzilla,” Ang said.

God, that woman is funny. “I know that,” I said, laughing. I pulled a long black skirt and chiffon shirt from my suitcase and threw them on over my clothes. “Better?” I asked.

“Oh, you are SO going to get in trouble,” Lucy said. “I can’t wait.”

I was so excited; I got to the arena really early. When I got there, I got taken straight up to the front where a very tall man was pacing in front of the stage. “Hey,” I said. “You Steve?”

He looked me up and down. “Yeah, Hath, and hey yourself,” he said. “You ready for this?”

I just nodded. Steve rolled his eyes and said, “Follow me” and led me off to stage right to the racks of axes. I saw Jon’s black beauty but stopped dead at the rack of Richie’s guitars. This was literally a dream come true; to be this close to his guitars. I gently touched the smooth wood of a couple of them before a voice behind me said, “Baby, my instrument is the only one you should be stroking.”

I turned and was wrapped up in a big hug. “Hey David, like your shirt?” David nodded. “Ang brought it for you.” David crowed.

“She brought me a present?”

I laughed. “Don’t get so cocky. She brought presents for everyone.”

He laughed and kissed me hard then held me at arm’s length, scrutinizing my outfit.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” I asked him. I was nearly eye level with him.

“No, you look amazing, though I wish you’d worn a shorter skirt.” His eyes darkened. “I was kinda hoping for paybacks for that day in the city.”

I shrugged. “Jon said not to distract you too much, so I went with quasi-modest.” Inside, I was pissing myself laughing.

“Darlin, just your proximity is going to be distracting.” He sighed. “Let me bring you to the boss before he starts yelling at me,” he said.

I groaned. “Please tell me you guys aren’t calling him that.”

We found Jon. “Nice outfit, Jeeves,” he said; smirking at me before he sent David away.

“This enough black for you?”

“It’s fine.” Jon checked the hallway. “Go back to Steve,” he said, winking. “He’ll set you up with a good spot for Daughtry, then it’s time to work.”

“You got it, boss,” I said with a wink back.

Daughtry rocked. I love his stuff, and I sang and danced right along with everyone else, though I was backstage. What a rush! When they left the stage, Chris Daughtry actually looked at me. I thought I was going to fall off my heels. Steve came over and wired me for sound. “She’s with me,” Steve said to Chris, and I laughed.

“Actually I’m with David,” I said, and introduced myself. Surreal. He was very gracious and said he hoped he’d get to talk to me later. I watched as the techs changed the sets and the other guys took the stage one by one. Before Jon went out on stage, I brought him his baby, eased the strap over his head, making sure it didn’t get caught in the monitor wires, and smoothed it over his shoulder. “Break a leg,” I said, and Lost Highway started the night.

I immediately lost the long skirt and overshirt, tossing them in a corner and Steve gawped. “What the fuck?” he said.

“It’s too hot in that other. Don’t worry, it’s fine.” I hope. “Can you see my ass?” I asked, turning around, and sticking said part out a little.

“Almost,” he said, swallowing hard. “Nice tat.”

I smiled. Slutzilla was on the job.

When Lost Highway was over, and they were doing that long intro to Bad Name, I went back on stage to get beauty from Jon. As I walked past the fan pit, the girls called out to me, but I wasn’t supposed to acknowledge them. When I got to Richie, I could see his eyes bugging out. I ignored him and David, who actually dropped his hands from the keys for just a second, but I know Jon noticed. I took the guitar from Jon, and turned to walk off stage as I was supposed to, but he grabbed my arm. “Jesus,” he said in my ear, and let me go.

When I walked past the girls this time, Ang snapped a picture of me and called out “SLUTZILLA!” pointing at me. I winked at her, and barely held it together until I got off stage, where I burst out laughing.

“What did Jon say to you,” Steve asked nervously.

“Jesus,” I said.

“Jesus is right,” Steve answered.

I went out several more times, each time walking straight to Jon with the guitar of the moment, watching out for the monitor wires, and winking at him before leaving the stage. I did not acknowledge David, but I could feel his gaze on me the whole time. It was wildly erotic, and I was more than just a little turned on. After Prayer, the guys were coming off stage to change shirts before the encore. I hustled to David’s dressing room as the final chorus was being sung by the audience, and held David’s shirt at the ready. When the door slammed open, David’s eyes were lasers on mine.

“Holy shit, Hath,” he said to me, closing the distance between us in two big steps. He took the shirt from me and dropped it, then plastered me to him and slammed his mouth onto mine, thrusting his tongue between my lips. His arousal pressed into me and was nearly my undoing. He slid one hand into my hair, and the other started to pull at the laces of my bustier, but stopped when we heard a voice at the door.

“If you’re gonna fuck her, ‘A’, you’ve gotta close the door, and ‘B’, you’ve got 90 seconds.”

"SHUT THE DOOR!" we both shouted together, well past the point of stopping now. Jon laughed at us, but shut the door. David turned us and walked me backwards until I was up against the door.

“Jesus,” he said as he hiked up my skirt. He tore the panties from me, even as I worked the button of his pants, glad I decided against the leather. He had two fingers pumping at me while I struggled to lower his jeans and shorts, and frustrated, he left me dangling on the edge, shoved them down himself, lifted my leg to circle his hip, and drove into me. I screamed into David’s mouth as I came, the abstinence of the last week plus the events of the last hour and a half conspiring against my control.

“Thank God,” he said, and pumped me harder, riding my waves until he groaned in my mouth and emptied into me. He leaned heavily against me for a couple of seconds, then pulled away reluctantly. “I love you,” he said, and I just smiled wickedly. “What’s so funny over there?” he asked.

“You know those stories I used to write?” I asked him. He nodded. “This exact scene is one of them.” I didn’t tell him that one was about Jon. David laughed out loud and got his shirt changed. I had run (literally) into the bathroom for a wet washcloth and towel, cleaned up as best I could, and straightened my clothes. David came in to say, “I gotta go,” and was halfway to the door when it burst open and the other guys came in.

“Jesus, didn’t you lock the door D?” I accused as I strode from the bathroom and stopped dead. There, in the middle of the floor was a scrap of black lace – quite obviously my torn undies. Oh shit.

“C’mon guys,” David said, hustling the guys from the room.

Jon called over his shoulder, “C’mon Jeeves! You can get your underwear later.” David punched him in the arm, and Richie turned to look at me, then David, then at his front-man.

“I’m gonna have Lucia help me tomorrow night,” he said, adding to my embarrassment.

They did their encore, and took their bows, David looking at me when they were waving to the crowd. He had a sly little smirk on his face and winked at me.