Free The Prince of Punk Rock by Jenna Galicki Page A

Angel’s
fingers. “Strike all six strings in one fluid motion.”
    Their thighs were touching and
Tommy could feel Angel’s warm breath blowing across his cheek.
    Angel dragged the pick over the
guitar strings.   It was slow and choppy.
    “That’s it.   That’s good.   Now, do it again, only do it really fast this time.”
    Teaching guitar never sounded so
dirty.
    Angel repeated the chord several
times, each time with more confidence and eventually, all the notes rang
together.
    “You did it.   That’s a G chord.”
    “I can’t believe it.   My prince! Thank you so much!”
    Those two words always made Tommy’s
blood race and sent his heart into a static frenzy.   “I love it when you call me, my prince,” he
said, softly.
    Angel’s eyes bore into Tommy’s for
several seconds.   “My prince,” he
whispered.
    A hot shiver ran down Tommy’s
back.   He could barely hear anything over
the sound of his heart beating in his ears.   The sexual chemistry they shared was palpable.   It was an entity that occupied its own space.   It crowded the room and pushed them together.
    Angel put the guitar on its
stand.   His gaze was strong and
penetrating.
    The palms of Tommy’s hands began to
sweat and he fidgeted in his seat.   Thoughts of Jessi pierced his heart and made him look away.   As much as he wanted to kiss Angel, he couldn’t
do it behind Jessi’s back.   And he still
couldn’t tell Jessi how much he cared about Angel.   He couldn’t hurt her like that.   He had no choice but to slink further down
the couch and back away.
    The disappointment was clear on
Angel’s face.   He looked wounded and sad.
    Tommy wanted to take Angel in his
arms, throw him down on the couch and rip his shirt off.   He wanted to put his lips to Angel’s neck and
to his chest.   He wanted to do so much
more, but his love for Jessi held him back.   He needed to do something else, quickly, and he reached for the guitar
to rescue him.   “Let me show you
something else.”   He quickly ran through
a couple of chords, played a short melody and rattled off a half hour lesson in
five minutes.
    Angel gave him a bewildered
smile.   “There’s no way I absorbed
anything you just said.”
    Tommy laughed, nervously.   “I’m sorry.   Maybe we should just . . . slow down a little.”
    “OK.   If that’s what you want . . . my prince.”
     
    Chapter Thirteen
    Jessi
crawled into bed and rolled over to face Tommy.   He was on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, reading one of his
guitar magazines.   She tucked his hair
behind his ear so she could see his face.   He glanced up and gave her a tiny smile before returning to his reading.   She watched him and stroked his long, silky
hair.   She entwined her fingers through
it and smoothed it down the center of his back.
    They had
been out with Angel again tonight.   She
was at his apartment discussing merchandise sales.   They got on the subject of fashion and she
ended up embellishing one of the jackets he wore when he performed.   She lost track of time and Tommy came by
looking for her.   The three of them went
out for dinner and then for a few drinks, afterwards.
    Jessi
studied the interaction between Tommy and Angel over the course of the
night.   She had a tight friendship with
Angel, but Tommy and Angel had a bond.   Their interaction was always flirtatious, but it was also that of – she
hated to say it –an old married couple, but a couple whose spark still ignited
fire.   Tommy and Angel were comfortable
with one another, familiar, but the intensity they shared was so strong that
you could see it with the naked eye.   It
was actually very similar to the relationship she had with Tommy.
    As she
continued to pet his hair and run her fingers through it, she realized that
they hadn’t shared their bed with anyone in a long time – not since Angel came
into their lives.   It hit her hard, like
a slap in the face.   Since Tommy met
Angel, he