2 - Papa Was A Rollin' Stone

~Natasha’s Point of View~

When meeting artists out in public I used to go all out, really dress up. Hair, make-up and all that. I wanted to look good next to them, especially as I got older. Well … father time creeping up into my life is what got me knocked up in the first place. It was like after I turned 30 my ovaries started fucking with me.

I met Lukas on the sidewalk, just outside a hipster bar I’d never normally be caught dead in, and the way Lukas looked at it told me he felt the same.

I took in his navy blue t-shirt with dark blue jeans with black Jordan sneakers on his feet. Not at all dressy, but he pulled it off well. His shaggy hair was kind of curly, still damp from the shower. He had it a bit shaved up on the sides. It was obvious he hadn’t styled it and I nearly caught myself wanting to reach up and touch it. He had the boy next door cute little vibe complete with dimples and if not for the reputation that seemed to walk a foot in front of him he’d be I dare say adorable.

“After you,” Lukas said, as he held open the door.

“Thanks,” I said, trying to be polite.

I caught a whiff of his cologne and it went straight to some lock box that had been dark and closed for business between my legs. Goosebumps spread across my skin as he moved behind me, still holding the door. I gulped.

I had to help this joker get his shit together for my own sake too, I had to keep it professional. I could already tell I’d be out for baby leave and come back to a complete shit show. Really, I already envisioned probably having to bring little Louie in with me as soon as a week after. My entire life was this studio and really, I wasn’t sure I could live without it. 

I was way too much of a control freak. But I liked it, I needed it. I had to have things my way. Unfortunately little Mr. Drummer Boy was the same.

Seeing that “Halo” was already seated with a little entourage I walked in that direction. She was only 22, barely any tits, certainly no ass. Just a pretty face that could sing semi decently and I had to wonder if someone from the AR department was fucking her. Would hardly be the first time.

“Jenna? Hey I’m Natasha, nice to finally meet you in person. This is Lukas, the drummer from Feisty,” I said, stepping back a bit. 

She gave a weak wave, completely unimpressed. Seriously? She had to be into women not to stare.

Okay so when I first met Lukas and Corey it was literally all I could to play it cool. Really, I soaked my panties and my clit was throbbing the entire time. My tits were like sharp hailstones ready to tear my shirt off, I was so turned on. Muscles, tattoos, testosterone. Arrogance that was actually backed up, not just hollow words.

And I was someone who saw hot rockers all day, everyday. I was NOT easily impressed.

But everyone, and I mean everyone knows the Feisty men and their reputations. They were all just walking sex, and the groupies that followed them were proof they absolutely still had it. Even if most of them were married, ohh … I’d still look. 

I’d always had a huge crush on the lead singer Jude Stone, but I hated to admit in person Lukas was fine as hell. 

I’d NEVER … ever tell him that. Never give him the satisfaction. He was beyond immature and clearly still had a lot of growing up to do. He got under my skin and I felt like he did it on purpose.

I waved for Lukas to go in the round booth first, a pregnant whale never gets blocked in. I always need to be able to get up quickly for the bathroom if necessary. And after one drink I’d have to go.

One of the guys at the end of the table reached over to shake Lukas’ hand and talk about one of his recent shows that he’d seen. Jenna, a/k/a Halo still looked bored. She didn’t know who he was and didn’t care.

“So … Jenna, we have a new song writer that is really impressive. She’s free early next week can you come in and work with her,” I asked, trying to get right to it.

Even with a two hour nap I’d be ready for bed by 9. I had a massage booked in the morning and I was hopeful it would help coerce the baby out. Otherwise, they were going to induce me in a couple days. I felt like I was going to be pregnant for freaking ever.

“I’m actually Halo’s writer,” a man said, leaning over her. 

She stirred her drink and looked content. If it was anything I hated, it was a spineless woman who just lets men talk for her, over her and about all her business as if she’s not even in the room. It’s her name on the dotted line, her face that will be public. She should absolutely have full say and control.

I’d met Pearl already, Corey’s wife and she was exactly the kind of woman I needed to be friends with. She doesn’t take anyone’s bullshit, not even her husband’s.

“Really? Cause the shit sounds like a dying skunk on Molly,” Lukas said, making me cough on my spit. 

The two men got into it, and I flagged down a waitress.

“I’ll have an ice water with lemon and he’ll have…” I turned to look at Lukas, already sticking a finger in the guy’s face. I was far too entertained.

“A double shot of Jack neat,” I said, grinning.

I was a work-a-holic without a man who had no life and was about to have a baby. My only thrills were from self pleasure and I could hardly even use my damn vibrator anymore since my belly was enormous. I’d take what entertainment I could get for tonight.

By the time our drinks came the argument had intensified and Jenna couldn’t have looked more bored, now playing on her phone. Clearly she was used to this and I just found that pathetic.

Lukas must have seen out of the corner of his eye that a drink was set in front of him, without even turning toward it he scooped it up and threw it back. He let out a thirsty sound after he gulped it and slammed it on the table. He pointed to it, indicating he wanted more as if he was sitting in front of a bartender.

“Look you stupid fuck, this is my label. My people. We are not Ajax and we are not putting out shitty music. So if this is the best you got, you can get the fuck out. We signed her, not you,” he said, as my whole body heated.

I’d been in so many of these meetings, these little drink dates. NONE of the assholes from the old label ever went after someone like this. I’d never been more turned on. This is what having your own money looks like, real money that means you can say what you want. 

Don’t get me wrong, I do pretty well. Early on in my career I’d been a writer too and I still got some royalties from that. Not a huge amount but some play money. My father had passed a few years ago and I’d used his generous life insurance and moderate savings to pay off my condo. My only sister didn’t need the money and she just wrote her check over to me. So without a mortgage, I lived comfortably. 

I licked my lips, staring at Lukas’ sexy tattoos. The way his forearms kept flexing as the argument dragged on. He was so damn hot when he was angry. No … feisty. Oh god I’m an idiot.

It didn’t help that I hadn’t had sex since I got pregnant. I was terrified of getting an STD or something, I was paranoid like that. But fuck if I wasn’t in heat right now. Ready to jump on his lap and ride him like a happy cowgirl.

I got him two more shots and he downed them both as if they were air. A huge grin spread across my face as the other two guys at the end of the table were now in a full blown fight with Lukas too. They were starting to attract attention. Well, a lot of it.

“I don’t need this shit. My motherfucking housekeeper sings better any-fucking-way. We’ll buy out her god damn contract if we need to, she’ll never be a Feisty artist,” I heard, and turned to gape at the foul mouthed man at my side.

All kinds of flutters filled my belly and I knew without a doubt I’d been getting off tonight. I had to go soon. Hell any stimulation down there right now and I’d be screaming in seconds.

The Tasha of five years ago would probably be pissed at him right now. But every fiber in my being actually wanted him to go full caveman and deck one of these pricks. Damn that would be hot.

I’d zoned out for too long, thinking about there being an all out brawl.

“Come on Tash we don’t need this shit,” he said, reaching in his pocket and throwing a $100 bill on the table. 

“You’ll hear from our lawyer,” I heard, as Lukas held my arm and pulled me away. 

I certainly took notice of the looks we got on the way out. I wasn’t totally sure if it was just from the near fight or because people recognized him. Either way, for about the first time in my life I nearly felt like arm candy and fuck it just made me wetter. 

Even if I was ready to pop and it wasn’t his baby. Ugh!

When we got outside the fresh air rushed into my lungs, I welcomed it. 

“Fuck that piece of shit! Who does he think he’s talking to,” Lukas spat.

“Clearly you needed to let him know,” I said, raising my eyebrow and stroking his ego.

“Fucking A! She didn’t even speak up for herself. What kind of woman just sits there like that! I have zero patience as it is but what was that shit,” he snapped, as we walked.

“A 22 year old with zero experience whose handlers need her as a cash cow,” I said, having seen it all before.

“Well not us. Not anymore. I meant that shit I said about things changing. We’re artists, we’re in this for the music, not for any other reason. We don’t need money,” he said, still holding my arm.

There wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to let him go. He was warm and his arm was firm and strong. And fucccckkk he smelled so good. God I just needed some male attention in the worst way. The other day I actually thought about hiring a male prostitute just to go down on me, I was that desperate. 

“Do you live close? I can get us a car, I had one of my brothers drop me,” he said, stopping at a crosswalk.

“Oh uhm, my car’s back that way actually. I was just in the moment and not fully paying attention,” I said, looking down the street.

“Okay cool, mind dropping me then? It’s about fifteen minutes. Maybe I can salvage the night, get a work out in,” he said, as we turned around, still locked together.

Oh god.

Oh god.

The sudden visual of him sweaty, maybe just some shorts on. Lifting weights, running on a treadmill. I was nearly faint.

Could I like … invite myself up to his place? Maybe … ohh … maybe I’ll have to use the bathroom? 

Fuck … listen to me. Pathetic!

Like I’d have a chance with him. Like I should be even remotely thinking about getting involved with him in any way. Just no no no. Very bad idea. Hope is a dangerous thing and I gave it up long ago.

I stiffened my spine as we walked the rest of the way. I stopped at my black Audi SUV, already with a carseat in the back. I learned early on that I couldn’t exactly have a shitty car in this business, people are such judgmental assholes. But also, as a single woman living in LA I needed something very reliable so splurging was worth it even if it was nearly twice what I’d planned to spend.

“Thanks for the lift,” he said, smiling as he pulled away. 

I pulled my purse up near my face and searched for my keys. A little twitching pain hit in my lower area, I’d had a few little false contractions the last two days but nothing serious. Before I realized what was happening it hit again and I dropped my bag, the contents immediately spilling all over.

I moaned and leaned against the car for support, holding my belly. It felt like the bottom was about to drop out.

“Oh shit, what happened? Baby angry? Is it like he’s kicking or something,” he asked, his hand on my shoulder.

I felt the gush beneath as my water broke, soaking my little ballet flats. 

“Whoa! That’s not something you see everyday,” he said, laughing.

“I’ll call a cab,” I said, blowing out a breath. He was already squatting and picking up my stuff.

“Why I’m right here,” he said, standing up.

“You drank a lot, like six shots,” I said, whining and groaning as the pain intensified.

“Oh please. That’s nothing, barely a starter. I’m totally fine I swear, I don’t drive drunk. Plus I had two huge cheeseburgers before I came here, just soaked it all up,” he said, pushing me to walk around to the passenger side.

I wasn’t thrilled about it but he did seem fine. I was certain even a full bottle of Jack wouldn’t knock him on his ass. He was a professional alcoholic if the tabloids were to be believed.

I told him where to go, already miserable and pissed I was getting my seat wet. Least of my problems though, I know.

Before I knew it, he was getting me out of the car to head into the emergency room. We got to the desk and he left me, I wasn’t totally sure where he went. I couldn’t worry about him right now. He got me here in one piece, that was all that mattered.

“I’m Natasha Evans, you need to call my doctor, Gregory Kendall, ugh, oh please hurry,” I moaned, falling over her desk.

“Right here I got you,” I heard, as strong hands gripped me, then I was sat in a wheelchair. 

I looked up into Lukas’ smiling face, he was proud of himself. Shit, I was too. Good job.

“Lukas Trent? Is this your girlfriend? Are you about to be a daddy,” I heard, as a camera flash went off.