This is a spin-off of the Triple Threat series.
Lead guitarist Brandon Knight and his girlfriend Mackenzie Winters haven’t seen each other for two weeks, since she left the tour. It’s been two weeks of trials and a bittersweet longing for each other. What they don’t know is that they both have been faithful and have begun to think beyond mere lovers. When Brandon picks Mackenzie up at the airport in New Orleans, their love and lust explodes–just in time for the next leg of the band’s tour to begin.
Brandon’s bandmates, Scott and Austin, have used this time to explore their hidden feelings, and Austin finds that he wants more. With the memories of his “coming out” to his family still freshly seared in his mind, Scott refuses to acknowledge his love, fearful that they will be exposed to the world during the tour.
But, the tour is the least of Wicked End’s worries. They must deliver the most incredible album of their careers under the strain of their complicated relationships, and in a move that was a surprise to everyone except Brandon, he’s asked Mackenzie to accompany him out west during the recording.
Limits, emotional and physical, will be tested. Boundaries explored. They all will face changes, joyful and sometimes painful, that they never knew were possible, and when the lights come up, nothing will be the same again.
I’ve been writing since I was a young teenager. At first, it was just a way to vent. Then it became something to entertain my friends. They all wanted to be in the story of meeting our favorite boy band.
At 16, I started to write an actual book. When I had several chapters done, I gave it to a teacher to read. He thought it had promise. It wasn’t about a boy band, but a subject most didn’t speak of in the 80s—abuse.
The next person who read it told me to write about nice things. That was discouraging. I could only write what I felt, or it didn’t come out right. Many things took me away from writing in the next few years. Thankfully, I never let the dream go.
I write erotic fiction. Most of the books I write these days are about bands I created. Since they aren’t based on any real bands, it’s hard to find people who look like them. That sometimes gets complicated. However, I know what they look like. Fans tell me who they think a character resembles to them, and I am surprised when they find someone who fits my image.
Wicked End is one of my favorite bands. Their story spans two books at this point, with a third planned. They are quite diverse and for the most part, open-minded. There is Jake, a crazy womanizing lead singer; Brandon, a hopeless romantic lead guitarist and Chico, an insatiable drummer who juggles multiple open relationships. Scott, the bassist, and Austin, the rhythm guitarist, are very much in love, yet they hide it from everyone but their bandmates.
Austin and Scott are quite special to me. Several gay/bi friends have told me that I got things just right. Their struggle is one that many gay/bi men and women have in reality. Showing the world your true colors is not easy for everyone. I know firsthand that many will not accept someone as they really are. Although I do not hide who I am, like Austin and Scott, I censor myself around many people. I hope one day we can all just be who we are.
I have many more books in the works, each one unique. Each series can be read on its own, but my other bands make cameo appearances in most of the Triple Threat books. I hope you enjoy getting to know my bands and walking with them on their journeys of discovery.
It was the last Friday in September. Brandon Knight checked out the article in Guitarmania magazine about him and his band, Wicked End while on his phone. It turned out better than he expected. The pictures made him look like a sex object. That he was not so keen about. His girlfriend Mackenzie would be pissed. At least when other girls drooled over it.
He sat in the waiting area of Louis Armstrong International Airport in New Orleans, trying to look inconspicuous. Mackenzie’s plane was scheduled to land 10 minutes ago, but it was a bit late. He checked the clock for the twentieth time. Then he sighed and walked over to the arrival monitors. It landed! Woo-hoo!
With a huge smile, he walked over to his chair and settled down again. It would be a while before she reached him. He thought about buying a ticket to somewhere— anywhere— so he could wait at the gate, but he didn’t want to give anyone his ID. So far, no one had recognized him, and he wanted it to stay that way. Angelo, one of Wicked End’s security team, stood about 20 feet away just in case. He’d asked Angelo to stay inconspicuous.
He never wanted Mackenzie subjected to the sort of insanity they’d faced in Fort Lauderdale weeks before. Brandon wore a black felt fedora he bought in the Coral Springs mall almost three weeks ago. That, coupled with his Oakleys , helped him be semi-anonymous. Removing all his piercings was Scott’s idea, since he rarely did that . He kept toying with his eyebrow, missing the bar there. His mouth also felt weird without its piercing.
His blue jeans and Slipknot T-shirt didn’t give anything away. His black hair was in a ponytail. It had grown in the weeks on tour. He debated trimming it or just letting it go. He’d see what Mackenzie thought before deciding. The smartest move he made that day was to leave his very recognizable leather jacket on the bus. New Orleans was still hot and humid, anyway.
Angelo walked around the bank of seats Brandon sat in. As imposing as he was, he didn’t have to do much to make people avoid him. He watched their surroundings, analyzing everything and everyone. Years of sentry duty in the Marine Corp came in handy at such times. He would not allow anyone he did not recognize to get too close to Brandon.
Still on the plane, Mackenzie Winters clung to the armrests. The flight had been tortuously turbulent. She hated flying. Only when Brandon sat beside her could she relax when flying. Takeoffs and landings were the worst for her. Her body shook as the plane rolled toward the airport, finally on the ground.
Sitting in the front of the plane had its privileges. As soon as possible, she grabbed her things and headed for the exit. The walk through the terminal calmed her somewhat , but she had to relax more. Brandon did not need to know she had been miserable without him.
First thing, she headed to the ladies’ room. After washing her hands, she looked in the full-length mirror near the exit. Her clothes had been chosen for comfort on the flight . As she looked at herself, she regretted them. The form fitting jeans and simple blue top were boring and didn’t allow for easy access. Her long blonde hair was done up in a French braid, loose strands framing her face. No makeup as usual. Her green eyes looked a bit tired, but sleeping alone had been difficult. She fixed her blouse and stared at her image.
Frowning, she thought about changing into one of the outfits in her bag. Maybe he’d like the tight black dress again? With a sigh, she decided she would rather get to him quickly than change. She fingered the black crystal that hung from her neck. It meant so much that Brandon gave it to her. Smiling, she left the restroom, then realized her throat was dry.
She stopped at the convenience shop and bought a bottle of iced coffee. While waiting in line, a magazine caught her eye. A smile formed on her lips. Brandon was on the cover of Guitarmania. He was shirtless and seemed to be engrossed in his music. He had never looked sexier. She snatched a copy and added that to her purchase.
“Wow, doesn’t he look hotter than ever,” the female clerk commented when she lifted the magazine. “What I wouldn’t do…”
Hiding her jealousy, Mackenzie smiled and replied, “Those hands. The things they’re capable of.”
“Guess you have a crush on him, too. Looks a bit like Johnny Depp, huh?” The clerk rang up her things. “I’m going to the show tonight. Wonder how hard it is to get backstage.”
Mackenzie sighed. “I’m sure if you blow a roadie, they’ll get you in.” She laughed, then realized others had heard her. “I’m kidding.” She winked at the clerk.
“Yeah, I bet that does work,” she whispered. “Are you going?” She paused when Mackenzie handed over a 20-dollar bill.
With a grin, Mackenzie replied, “Yep, best seats in the house.” She tucked her change back in her purse and headed out of the store. She glanced down at Brandon’s picture, and her pussy clenched. God, I need you between my thighs. His beautiful brown eyes were closed, but that made the photo that much hotter.
She had abstained from sex for 17 days. It was the worst two weeks of her life. Some days, she cried from what felt like withdrawal symptoms. She had never resisted her urges before. The emotional turmoil was a shock.
She spent the first weekend alone, in bed, tortured by strong cravings. Her vibrator only made them worse. However, she knew she had to go through it. She had promised herself to limit her sex life. Brandon was none the wiser. She hid the whole thing from him. After a week had gone by, the need lessened, and she vowed to hold out until she saw him.
In the terminal, Brandon was getting antsy. He missed her badly, but his dick missed her a lot more. The constant erections without relief were aggravating. He jerked off a few times, but it didn’t help. He needed her pussy wrapped around his dick to get true relief. Even the thought of sex had him hard. He looked down to see his erection straining against his jeans. Hurry up, Tink.
He closed his eyes and thought about the past two weeks. His fingers flexed involuntarily as he recalled beating Dean Johnson from Gasoline to a pulp. If Jon Harris and Dominic Spinelli from Dean’s band had not been there, Dean might have been in a body bag at the end. His anger over what Dean did to Mackenzie had morphed into all-out rage. Brandon had lost control.
Scott Mason, his best friend and Wicked End’s bassist, had wanted to help him teach Dean a lesson, but Brandon acted alone. Good thing Dean didn’t press charges. The scene was a blur, but the moments after were clear.
* * *
When Brandon got back to Wicked End’s dressing room that night, he headed straight to the bathroom to wash the blood off his hands. He had sprays and splatters all over his shirt as well. His knuckles were swollen and starting to hurt. He hadn’t held back— he’d put all his strength into each blow.
After rinsing off the blood, he looked at his fingers, then flexed them. He sucked a breath in through his teeth and winced. Not good. How the hell am I gonna play tomorrow? He laid his hands on the vanity and looked to the ceiling. I did this for you, Tink. He wasn’t sure what the fallout would be, but he couldn’t let Dean get away with what he had done.
A knock on the door made him turn. “I’m in here.”
“What happened?” Scott asked through the door.
Brandon leaned over and rested his head on the vanity. “Nothing.”
“I know you, man.” Scott was concerned. “You look like you wanna kill someone. Let me in, so we can talk.”
With a sigh, Brandon opened the door. He hid his hands behind his back. “Told you I’m fine.”
Scott looked Brandon over. His eyes zeroed in on his bloody shirt. “Fine, huh?” He quickly checked Brandon’s face, turning his head side to side. “Whose blood?”
“Dean’s.” He had to tell someone. “I beat the shit outta him.”
Scott’s mouth dropped. He froze for a few seconds. “You what?”
“Beat Dean till he cried like a bitch.” Brandon scowled, the anger returning. “He had the balls to say she’d wanted him. That goddamn motherfucker.” He pushed off the vanity and turned to the door.
Scott grabbed him. “No. You got your revenge. Let it go.”
“But—” Brandon tried to stop the emotions building . “He almost—” He shut his eyes trying not to breakdown. “You know what he was about to do.”
Pulling Brandon into a loose hug, Scott closed his eyes as well. Every time he got that close to Brandon, his attraction came to the surface. He forced the thought away. “ But he didn’t. She fought him tooth and nail. He was humiliated. That was pretty funny.”
“She cold-cocked him, huh?” Brandon smiled, loving that his woman could fight her own battles sometimes.
Scott nodded. “Yep. She hit him so hard they both lost their balance. He hit the floor in shock.”
“That’s my girl.” Brandon pulled away and patted Scott’s shoulder. “Thanks. You’re always there for me.”
Just then, Scott’s mouth dropped again. He lifted Brandon’s hands and examined the swollen, torn knuckles. “Shit. You weren’t kidding. Can you play?”
“I don’t know.” Brandon pulled his hands away and cringed. “Maybe if I ice ’em?”
Scott nodded his head and tugged Brandon back into the main room. Within seconds, Scott was holding ice to Brandon’s hands . “If this don’t work, we may have to cancel tomorrow’s show.”
“What happened ?” Jake Thompson, Wicked End’s vocalist, walked up to them. His expression changed when he noticed Brandon’s hands. “Holy shit! What the fuck happened?”
“Fight,” Brandon said bluntly.
Scott replaced the quickly melting cubes, and then glanced at Jake. “I got it. He’s fine.”
The next night when Brandon couldn’t even do one song without taking a break, Jake was livid. He pulled Brandon aside. Jake bitched and moaned about Brandon being irresponsible . It was strange, coming from someone like Jake. Scott told him to shut up, and they played their set as best as possible.
* * *
A sudden voice made the memory fade. A man sat down next to Brandon, who stiffened, but replied, “Hey.” He glanced around for Angelo, who stood several feet away, watching.
“This may sound strange, but you look a lot like Brandon Knight.”
Brandon nodded nervously without looking up at his new seatmate. “I get that a lot.”
“You’re reading about him? That’s kinda ironic, isn’t it?”
With a tentative grin, Brandon replied, “Yeah, I guess. Interesting article.” He laid his phone on his thigh.
“You sound a lot like him , too.” The man’s voice sounded familiar. “Maybe you should try out for his spot. I heard he’s been a lame-ass the last two weeks.”
When the man chuckled, Brandon whipped his head around. Next to him was Liam from Delirious. One of Wicked End’s opening acts. Brandon said, “You son of a bitch. I was about to hit you.”
Liam laughed again. “Sorry, but you look like you’re gonna explode. Jake keeps bitching about you.” He paused. “Guess you’re waiting for your woman.”
Brandon smiled. “Yeah, she should be here soon.” Then his eyebrows furrowed. “What’re you doing here?”
“Same.” Liam bit his lip. “My wife and my son are flying in. I’ve missed them.” He sighed. “Please don’t tell her what you’ve seen while she was at home.”
With his mouth slightly open, Brandon tried to hide his shock that Liam was a married man. He didn’t wear a ring and was not remotely faithful. More than once, he had seen Liam nailing a groupie.
“I won’t.” Brandon felt guilty that he might have to lie about it. “I guess I’m luckier than I thought.”
Liam’s eyes opened wider. “Why?”
“Me and my girl got a deal worked out. Open relationship, for the most part.”
“Fuck, yeah. Lucky you.” Liam sighed. “My wife would cut my balls off if she knew how many other women I’ve slept with besides her.” He hung his head. “I try, but it seems I suck at the celibacy thing.”
Brandon nodded. “Yeah, I bet that would suck.” He groaned, knowing celibacy was killing him. “Hardest thing I ever did.”
“Huh?” Liam turned and saw a look of agony on Brandon’s face. “Damn. You been holding out? That’s why you hide on the bus all the time?”
Another nod. Brandon closed his eyes. “I kinda wanted to wait for her. It’s only two weeks. I love her.” A flurry of noise made them both look up. A group of passengers exited the secured area. Brandon stood to look for Mackenzie. When he spotted her, his heart leapt. “Gotta go. She’s here.”
Mackenzie saw Brandon immediately. “Baby!” She ran to him and threw her arms around him. Her emotions were all over the place. “I love you.” She sniffled, trying not to cry. It was as if she were whole again. He was the part of her she didn’t know was missing. She wept from seeing him again. She couldn’t let him go.
“I love you too, Kenzie.” He closed his eyes as he covered her mouth with his. His entire body yearned for her. “I missed you so bad.”
Her bag fell when she jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Bedroom, now.”
Her desire had come to the foreground. Her pussy clenched as it always did when she was aroused. It happened so often, it was as if she did constant kegels. The one benefit of it was being tighter than most women, even after sex.
“Really?” He laughed. “Desperate for me, huh?”
She kissed him hard. “Yes. Need you now.”
He held her ass, wishing she had a skirt on. She was back to her usual way of dressing— T-shirts and jeans. He loved her that way, too. However, with a skirt, there were more options. The trembling was something new though.
“You OK, Tink?” He held her closely while she buried her face in his hair.
She took deep breaths, trying to control the awful need that consumed her. “I just missed you.” That she did, although it was so much more.
“Your hands’re shaking.” He nuzzled her neck, trying not to let his hat fall off. “You sure you’re OK?”
She nodded and leaned back to look at him. “It was hard without you.”
“I know what you mean.” He smiled and kissed her nose. “You’re mine for four days, right?”
With a grin of her own, she replied, “Yes. I don’t have to be at work until Tuesday.” She touched his mouth, surprised he had no piercings in. It was the first time she’d seen him that way since high school. Her fingers brushed his beard, missing even that.
He spun her around, collected her bag and walked back to the chairs to say goodbye to Liam, who sat texting on his phone. “I’m heading out, Liam. See you tonight.”
Liam looked up. “Sure. Hey… Kenzie, right?”
Her face heated up a bit, remembering the last time they saw each other. She was in quite a state, having just returned from a night with Jesse and Brandon. “Yes.”
“Hold onto him.” Liam winked. “He’s a good one.”
Brandon set her on her feet. “Thanks, and good luck.” He took her hand and led her to the baggage claim, Angelo on their heels.
Meanwhile, on Wicked End’s bus, Scott was showering again. Having re-dyed his long hair deep red that morning, he couldn’t wait to kill the lingering odor. Hairstylists always tried to convince him to use a more natural color. That was not his thing. Austin Reese, Wicked End’s rhythm guitarist, usually helped him with the procedure.
He was getting ready to go sightseeing with Austin. They had a few hours to kill. Since Mackenzie left, he had ignored his attraction to her and Brandon and focused on Austin. He still couldn’t express his feelings the way Austin wanted, but he made sure Austin knew he cared.
The bathroom door opened. That was normal. One bathroom for 15 men. “I’m in here.” No reply was weird, though. “Jake?” Another sound made him turn, but Scott was rinsing conditioner out, so couldn’t see clearly. “Brandon?” That was a dream. Brandon would never watch him in the shower. Then hands running up his back made him jump.
“Shh, I don’t want anyone to hear us.” Austin pressed his naked body against Scott’s back and turned off the water so it wasn’t wasted. Then he slid his hands up Scott’s body to his shoulders . “You’ve been stressed all day.” He gripped Scott’s muscles. “Damn, you’re tense.”
Austin’s mohawk lay flat on his head. Scott had dyed it blue for him a few weeks ago. Austin smiled while Scott unconsciously rubbed his body against his own. Although Scott was six feet tall, Austin towered six inches over him.
Scott moaned softly as Austin massaged his shoulders . He had been stressed. Mackenzie returning meant Brandon would be less available. He liked being close to him, even if it was only platonic. Their friendship meant a lot to him. It was different than what he had with Austin.
Austin had watched Scott stare at Brandon the last few days. He knew he had to help Scott get over him. With a grin, he wondered if Mackenzie would help him convince Brandon. She probably would. She got off on seeing him and Scott together. With Brandon in the mix, she would go all animal.
“Damn.” Scott groaned with relief as Austin worked on his neck. He glanced down. His dick was growing quickly. “You’re the best.” His lover treated him better than any woman ever had.
Looking over Scott’s shoulder, Austin smiled. He was glad he was turning him on. His own cock was already fully engorged and poking the top of Scott’s ass. “Maybe I should give you some sexual relief, too,” he whispered.
Scott gasped when Austin gripped his cock. The strong hand moved up and down slowly at first, then faster. His eyes closed as the pleasure built with each stroke. “Austin…” He put his hands on the wall in front of him. When Austin’s fingers started to rub the head again and again, his head fell back onto Austin’s shoulder.
Unable to resist, Austin turned his head and kissed Scott’s lips. He debated on having Scott face him, but liked the dominating position better. Scott submitted to him often. He enjoyed that. His other hand cupped Scott’s balls. He got pleasure out of the moans.
His eyes rolled back, Scott hungrily sucked on Austin’s bottom lip while Austin fondled his testicles. Then he moaned louder when his fingers wandered behind his sack. Austin pressed hard, his fingertips moving in a circle.
Austin said, “I know you love this,” And gasped as Scott reached back and squeezed the head of his dick. “God, I wanna fuck you.” Slowly, his hand wandered and he pressed a fingertip into Scott’s back door. “I wanna take this ass hard and fast. Make you take me bareback. Cum deep inside you. Wanna feel you gripping my dick while you cum with me.”
Chico Rivera, the band’s drummer, walked in and gaped at the male silhouettes. “Please don’t tell me you’re fucking. I don’t want that image in my head when Margarette gets here.” She was his New Orleans girlfriend, and the only Latina one.
Scott jumped. “Chico?”
“Yeah. I can see you guys’re naked.” Chico relieved himself as intended. “Please don’t start moaning again until I leave.” He didn’t care that they were bisexual, just as long as he didn’t have to hear or see anything they did together.
Austin took a deep breath . “I’m not fucking him.” Then he whispered in Scott’s ear, “Yet.”
Chico replied, “Good. That’s the last thing I need to see today.”
With a sly grin, Austin put his hands around Scott’s waist and yelled, “Oh God, Scott. Oh God. Oh God!” He held in the laugh on the tip of his tongue.
“Shit!” Chico shouted. “I fuckin’ hate you, man!” He rushed out of the room, holding his ears. “Son of a bitch.” A memory of seeing them in Scott’s bunk flashed before his eyes. “I’m gonna kill you, Reese!” He slammed the bathroom door shut.
Scott and Austin burst out laughing. They had done that to Chico several times. His aversion to their sexual antics made it easy to tease him.
After turning Scott around, Austin bent down and kissed him. Quickly, the kiss turned passionate. He stroked Scott’s tongue with his while he pressed him against the wall.
Then the door opened again. “Why’d you have to freak Chico out?” Jake loudly asked. He slid the shower door open and shook his head. “You know he can’t handle you guys kissing.”
Austin pulled back. “He could’ve knocked.” He glared at Jake, who was still watching them. “Unless you’re joining in, you might wanna go help Chico get over it.”
Jake realized he was staring. “Yeah, sure.” He averted his eyes. “Sorry I barged in.”
He didn’t understand why seeing Scott and Austin together turned him on somewhat. It wasn’t that he looked at guys that way. However, when they were going at it, in any way, his dick hardened. At least it happened when Brandon and Mackenzie got it on as well. He shook his head and turned away.
“I’m going with Chico to Margarette’s. Her sister’s in, and I’m her ‘date’ for the afternoon.” He grinned. “She better put out. Later.”
When they were alone, Scott exhaled loudly. “We need to give up before someone else interrupts. I can’t wait to get home, so I can attack you in your sleep.” He chuckled. “I’ll wake you up like you do to me sometimes.”
Austin kissed his forehead. “You do that.” He hoped Scott followed through. “I’m looking forward to it.”
Austin wanted their relationship to grow. Normally, he was the one to lavish affection on Scott. It rarely happened the other way around. He wished he could get Scott over his reluctance.
Scott put his arms around Austin. “I will. When you least expect it.”
“Austin?” Jesse, the band’s driver and equipment hauler, called from outside the door. “Jim needs you inside for a few minutes. Something about your guitar acting up.”
The bus had parked behind the downtown New Orleans Arena, and the house crew was setting up, along with the bands’ crews. Jim, Wicked End’s guitar tech, was doing some tests with Brandon’s new guitars that he’d received from Six Strings. Austin was to use one of them for the first time that night. They also planned to reveal a new song at the concert.
“Sorry, gotta go.” Austin placed a kiss on Scott’s temple. “I got us a room at the Hyatt across the street.” He took a deep breath. “This way, we won’t be interrupted again.”
Scott looked up. “You’re the best.”
Now living in Florida with her three sons, she juggles domestic responsibilities, a social life, her career as an IT professional and her writing as carefully as possible. They do cross paths as you have seen in her first collection of short stories. Her life is busy and full, yet very fulfilling.
The few limits Bella puts on her love-life may be found as but a shadow in her writing. She draws from life, fantasy and inspiration to create each tale.
Bella has broadened her horizons to include short stories, Insatiable Appetites, with many more to come, some just a sentence at this point. The subjects range from military men to biker chicks to naughty doctors and much, much more.
The Triple Threat universe is growing… Reckless 2 (Tragic Soul) is up next. Gasoline 2 (Evolving Urges) is complete. Triple Threat 3 (Dual Desires) is almost done. Soon enough you’ll also get to know Silverblade, Main Street (book name subject to change), Winter Winds and Brass Monkey too… so many hot rock stars, so little time to make them come to life.