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Sass walked over to Dara and with long slender arms, reached over the
side of the couch and gripped Dara s hips. Her long porcelain fingers
then dug in beneath the top of Dara s leggings and slowly peeled off the
second layer of soaked skin. Dara exhaled languidly as musk enveloped
the room. Sass lolled on her heels, her palms wet, her nose twitching.
 Oh Sass, Jess snarled,  you haven t a hope in hell.
And with that she threw a towel at the back of Sass head, knocking her
from her fragrant daze. Sass blushed and threw the towel down at Dara,
who giggled, kicking her legs at Sass so her black panties could be seen
as her limbs gracefully nipped the air.
But it was true  for all the sex appeal, for all the constrained refrain
that seeped from Dara when she was Phoenix, the one thing neither of
them ever were was sluts. People suggested, yes. People even accused,
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passing a girlfriend s fancy and hero worship off as an outright affair.
Dara had been confronted twice by psycho bitches, possessive lesbian
groupies who believed their star struck lover was indeed doing far more
than fantasising about being with Phoenix. And during both
confrontations, Dara had laughed directly into the faces of the accusers,
the one that had decided to wield a knife during the confrontation
being punched in the face by Phoenix, suffering concussion, a broken
nose, a small blackout and a whole lotta lost pride. And threats from the
other members of Dentata, naturally. In fact, when Annie found out
about the incident both the psycho girlfriend and moon-eyed lover 
who had both been regulars at Dentata gigs  seemingly vanished and
were never seen moshing again.
Dara never slept around. In fact, she had only had one girlfriend, but
she had only lasted three months. She couldn t cope with the music. She
couldn t cope with Phoenix. She couldn t cope with the self-confidence
and containment that Phoenix had. Independence wasn t sexy to some
people. So it d been Phoenix who had broken off the relationship, not
Dara. Phoenix wasn t about to see another girl come between her and
her guitar.
Ah, the guitar. Patti. Named after Patti Smith. Such a nexus, such a dark
star in the life of Dara. The return of the guitar, the reverse theft of it
back into to her life just under two years ago had marked such a
metamorphosis, such a flux in the life that Dara had lived. Songs had
instantly seeped from Patti like tears for a long lost friend. Patti had
been charged with such emotion, such pent up want to be heard that
when Dara had begun playing her & well, it d been a matter of hours
before the first song had scribbled itself down, a day later inked itself in.
A week later and there were a dozen gems. Within a month and Dara
was beginning to change. A confidence was burning from her cracked
fingers, a swagger was in her step. Her body responded, as did her
clothes, and a sexiness slowly engulfed every moment of her day like a
star going supernova.
Andrew at the agency had tried to make an advance on her one day,
near the photocopiers, after weeks of unreturned emails. Dara had
calmly but firmly placed her index finger on his pouted lips.
 Andrew, no & things are different now.
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 But I thought you liked me Dara, he d stammered, his pants clearly
straining at the short high waisted skirts Dara had taken to wearing and
the legs they now betrayed.  We kissed. I thought it was a good kiss.
 It was, Dara cooed,  but & 
And she found it too awkward to tell him there so after work they went
out to a rowdy bar Dara had chosen and she told him everything: about
her childhood dreams, about the Firebird, about Jody and more
importantly the return of all three of these things a month back. How
now events had conspired to take her somewhere new, and she wasn t
sure what was happening, or who she was becoming, but all she knew
was that she liked it.
Andrew stubbornly understood, but when he later came back to her flat
and listened to her play, his jaw dropped.
 Dara & wow, I mean. That s so hot.
 Thanks, she blushed, but only slightly.
He leaned back on her tatty couch,  You re so hot.
What he had hoped to have been a purr came out a slur and Dara
laughed.
 You re drunk Andrew. Time to say goodnight.
Even though he had protested about being hustled into a taxi, the next
morning he was at her desk, bleary eyed.
 Dara, he winced,  you play really good guitar. I mean, really good
guitar.
 Yeah? she cooed, eyebrow cocked suggestively, white blouse
unbuttoned to reveal the slightest of cleavage.
 Yeah & listen, put together some stuff and come and see me in a few
weeks. Professionally I mean.
A couple of weeks later and Andrew introduced Dara to Annie, a new
whiz he d been training. Annie, all blonde hair and small figure,
could ve easily passed as a schoolgirl her features were that crisp and
young. But the way she sized Dara up belayed a worldly charm. And
when she heard Dara play, Annie s eyes blazed, and the schoolgirl she
looked became something far more dark and inscrutable. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]