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Great Expectations
part 2
by Trynia Merin
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Disclaimer: KISS, Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons are real persons, and this story is not meant to harm or demean them in any manner. It is a work of fiction. Trynia Merin and other characters are property of the author. Rated R for sexual content and language, so no readers under 18 please. Picture from KISSONLINE.com
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Trynia slowly blinked and stirred. She wasn't sure of where she was at first, other then the fact that she ached all over in ways that she had not felt since her last boyfriend. Even that seemed a year or so ago. Kevin was a distant memory, and yet she wondered if it was he that occupied the bed next to her.
"Mmm," she muttered, shaking off the vestiges of the wonderful dream she had. She wanted desperately for it to be reality, but something must have happened because she felt her body curled up against a breathing form, solid and strong. A hand reached around and cupped her breast, pulling her close as she felt an angled chin in her shoulder. Softly someone kissed the back of her neck, breathing hot blasts of breath onto its nape.
"I have to be dreaming," she muttered. "But this feels too real..."
"Good morning sleepyhead," a voice whispered into her ear, making her shiver. Trynia shook away from the grasp, turning over and backing away in pure shock at who occupied the bed next to her. While she was infinitely relieved it wasn't Kevin, she was still floored at who it was.
"Oh my god!" she got out, shyly wrapping herself in her sheet. Dark hair covered the contours of a muscular body, a cloud of dark hair frizzing over classic cheekbones and dark eyes that fixed into hers with concern.
"Baby, you all right?" he asked, his voice shiveringly familiar. She could not believe it. Reality was a dream, or dreams had become reality.
"I... wasn't dreaming... oh my god..." she gasped, hugging herself in sheer disbelief. Indeed, she ached inside, deliciously with sweet pain, and gasped as a thousand electric tingles spread from the contact of his hand on her shoulder.
"No you weren't baby," he cooed, moving closer to her. "Sleep well?"
"No... I mean yes... I mean... is this really happening... did you and I... well... you know..."
"What do you think?" he laughed deliciously. She reached out to touch his face lightly with her finger, as if he would dissolve into mist if she touched him. A warm soft pair of lips reached over and kissed her hand as he captured it in one of his. Over her skin moved callused fingers no doubt those of a guitarist.
Still she kept the sheet wrapped around her with one hand, and saw the amusement on his face, as he pulled her close. "What's this? Shy baby?"
"I... guess so... I mean..." she stammered out, as he gently rubbed a hand over the sheet, and slowly pulled it away.
"You don't have to worry, baby. I'm not going to hurt you. In fact..."
"Oh..." she whispered, feeling the fine hands caressing her breasts. The sheet fell away and she reached out to fondle the abundant soft hair on his chest. His soft sighs of pleasure gladdened her as she continued to stroke, then rub more confidently. Tentatively she moved closer, so only a fraction of an inch separated their bodies.
Dim morning light painted the hotel room in soft muted dove tones. Through the curtains, she saw the gaps of light, and the expanse of the king sized bed that accommodated them both. Under her hip he slipped his arm, and tilted her to face him with his other hand. Against her breasts, he rubbed his muscular chest, the softness of her body pressing close to the hard wonderful muscles of his.
"Mmmhmm," he hummed, tracing her lips with his. She looped arms around his neck, brushing her lips over his and accepting the warm soft kiss that sent a tingling from her loins upward in a warm wave of sheer pleasure.
"Mmm," she moaned, gasping at the feel of his tongue teasing her lips apart. Down his back her hands traced, deepening his kiss into a full dance of supple tongues.
"Ohh baby you definitely are feeling better aren't you?" he laughed when she surfaced for breath.
"Thanks to a certain someone," she winked, loving how he gripped her hips and pulled her into him. Against her hip she felt the urgent pressure rise to the occasion, and shyly twisted ever so slightly. He had pulled her into a hard muscular embrace. Soft kisses pressed to the mark of his face on her breast.
"I love that," he whispered, tracking a finger over the design in six colors of ink. "It must have hurt, didn't' it baby?"
"Three hours of agony..." she whispered back, rubbing a finger over the rose faded on his right shoulder. "Perhaps more then you..."
"A lot of women want my face on their breasts," he laughed. "But this is by far the most beautiful."
"My breast or my tattoo?" she asked.
"Both," he whispered, kissing it again, and then lightly taking her nipple into his mouth. Arching her neck, she gasped. She twined fingers in his dark curls while he suckled and teased her to firmness.
"Mmm," she gasped again, tracking a hand down his spine to the powerful contours of his back. To the other breast, he turned his attention, slipping under the sea of white sheets. For a while she denied the voices of caution that screamed that she should be anywhere else then here with this man of her dreams. Out of her dreams, he had emerged into reality, and she could give a damn less what would happen next, except the inevitable.
"Paul," she whispered, as he moved kisses down to her navel, and then the soft invasion into her dark patch of hair below. Hands traced over her soft down of hair on her upper thighs, and she felt ashamed of the limitations of her body.
Teasingly his head and shoulders surfaced again, and she smiled sadly. Dark eyes fixed into hers and she felt his hand slip over her breasts with a soft caress of affection. Especially the left where his image in makeup peered up at him. Gently he eased her down to lay on her back, his body eclipsing the crack of light spewing in through the curtains. A marvelously muscled thigh slipped over her, teasingly. Curls were backlit in brilliant gold in the rising son, and she sighed deeply to drink in the images of his body contoured.
"You are so beautiful," Trynia whispered, reaching up to touch his face. "Something out of a dream, transplanted into reality..."
"I love being your dream," he whispered, melding his body to hers, and pressing her under his sweet weight. Against her, he rubbed his arousal, teasing her even more.
Gently she reached down, to caress lower, but he stopped her hands with his own. "No baby, let me this time... relax..."
She lay back, allowing him to pleasure her. He nudged between her legs and settled in place with a sigh of satisfaction. Dark curls tickled her chest and neck as he traced a kiss to her forehead, and put his hands under her thighs.
"Ohhhhh.... Mmmm!" she giggled, writhing at the touch with extreme pleasure.
"Oho ticklish..." Paul purred with a wicked look in his eyes. Her laugh rang out, entire body tensing up, and Paul realized this perhaps wasn't the best thing right now.
"Shhh... relax..."
"I can't help it... I'm sensitive there..." she whimpered.
"Hmmm... and I know some other places you are, baby," he purred again, teasing her moistness. She bit her lip and held back her squeal of ticklish pleasure, skin erupting in goosebumps. Paul slowly pushed his way into her, lifting her legs as he did so. It pleased her to see the look of pleasure wash over his face as he sighed deeply. One final push and she felt him tightly filling her in ways that made her whole body ache with desire.
"Ahhhh," she groaned, savoring how he stayed perfectly still.
"A little easier, isn't it baby..." he laughed, rubbing her thighs. She shrieked and tensed again, clenching around his shaft inside. This time Paul let out a groan, which sounded more like a rumble.
"Apparently I'm' not the only sensitive one, Mr. Stanley," she laughed, relaxing again. She could care less if this was all he did, for it was simply wonderful to feel him inside her where few others had placed themselves. Never mind that there were many women who had shared this intimacy, making love to Paul was like visiting a national landmark.
"Ohhh what's with the Mr. Stanley crap," he pouted, sending her into paroxysms of pleasure. "Call me Paul... everyone else does..."
"I call you incredibly fantastic," Trynia moaned and sighed, wrapping her legs around his hips.
"I like that," he laughed, slowly rocking his hips. Suddenly it hit Trynia that he contacted her skin on skin, with no barrier between them. IN and out, he pistoned, suddenly shifting with a harder motion that caused her to swoon.
"And I love that!' she shrieked, stifling her cry.
"Mmm, then you'll love this," Paul sighed, taking her breast in his mouth and teasing her nipple along with the mad rush from below. Up and down his chest her hands traced, with light feather strokes that she was sure he would enjoy.
"Paul..." she cried out, grabbing his shoulders when he leaned over and increased his pace.
"What baby? Tell me how much you like this... am I making you hot? Am I driving you wild?"
"You're making me insane!" Trynia shouted. "Oh Lord... but... we don't... we don't... I don't have control..."
"Sorry," Paul flushed, and pulled out. Shortly she was disappointed, even when he put a kiss to her lips and moved off the bed. He returned, and she saw that he tossed something down into the wastepaper basket as he moved onto the bed again. The mattress shifted, and Paul tenderly parted her legs again to settled between them again.
"Thank you," she whispered, realizing as he pushed in again that there was a barrier this time.
"I don't usually forget, baby. But I really wanted to feel you with nothing between us..."
"I can't afford birth control," she blurted out, then flushed with sheer embarrassment.
"Don't worry bout it," Paul chuckled. "Sure sign of a scientist... always remembering the facts... and now let me show you the dimensions of my love gun..."
Trynia's laugh echoed, and she slipped away on the incredible sensations erupting all over her writhing body. Cries mingled into a strange duet as she erupted into her first climax. Paul stopped his relentless advance to let her convulsing body soar, then crash back to earth. For an eternity he nibbled her neck, kissed her breasts, and breathed sweet dirty fantasies into her ear as he continued to make love to her.
She did the same, kissing any part she could reach, her hands slipping up and down his back with their own volition. She wanted to savor every touch she could before this whole dream would end, and she would enter rude reality again, tired and hungry at the side of the road. Each pleasurable orgasm she wrote in the pages of her mind, filing it away to write later in the stories she so loved. Life would continue without Paul, but she would treasure whatever time allotted her with him.
At long last Paul's face tensed in pain, his back arching. Deep inside he slammed, impaling her at the peak of her fourth plateau. The barrier stemmed his eruption, and he collapsed full sweaty on her body. They lay in a tangle of arms and legs, Paul wrapping her around himself as he remained inside. Hot tears stung her eyes, and she tried bravely not to cry. A slow numbness and well being covered her body now, and she knew that she had tasted a piece of what many would have called paradise. It had been so long since a man had made sweet love to her. If this was all she had, then so be it. It was more then enough.
Even when the moment was shattered with a sharp rat tat tat of something solid on the door. A muffled voice called Paul's name, and he lifted his head from the pillow. Trynia sighed, disentangling herself from his embrace, and turning away.
"Hey," Paul whispered, catching her arm. "Want some breakfast and a shower? I could use one..."
"Yes," Trynia nodded, hiding the view of her tears from his view. However, he pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her lips tenderly.
"Don't cry sweetie. It's ok..." he whispered, holding her.
"I don't do mornings..." she grumbled.
"C'mon... let's get a shower," Paul urged, pulling away, and heaving up out of the bed. He extended a hand to her, and pulled her to stand by him.
From the shower they emerged, Paul wrapped in a towel and Trynia in his purple robe. He helped rub her hair with another towel vigorously. It had been extremely hard to keep their hands off each other, but Paul reminded her they were on a tight timetable.
"We're headed to Upstate New York," he said, moving over to get himself a fresh change of clothes.
"Uh... Paul... I was waiting for t he right time to bring this up... but my car..."
"Oh, sorry," Paul said, appearing distracted for a moment. He turned, and gave a slow smile to her as his eyes wandered over her body. She flushed with embarrassment again, realizing how inadequate she felt with her size 18 body and shorter stature next to this virtual rock god with a million-dollar ass and glorious good looks.
"Do you have to be anywhere?" Paul asked her.
"Well, I am worried about my car, but the semester... well actually I'm not teaching assisting these next three months... and it's scrimp and save till something else comes up... oh God what if they can't fix my car..."
"Hey, easy," Paul said softly, taking her shoulders. "Look, why don't you join me for some breakfast, and we'll talk. We're not gonna leave you high and dry. We can work out something. I'll have one of my guys let me know what was done about your car, and go from there ok?"
"Ohhh thank you," Trynia breathed with relief. Impulsively she threw her arms around Paul and kissed his cheek.
Suddenly she pulled back, hands pressed to her mouth, "I didn't expect... I mean I don't want to be any trouble..."
"You aren't, so get over it," Paul grinned, and pulled her close again. Just feeling his arms closing around her reassuringly made her heart soar, and she leaned up to give him a soft kiss. Paul eagerly accepted it, transforming it into a mind racing passion filled experience.
Another knock startled them, and Trynia flinched. Paul called back, "I'm coming! Who is it?"
"It's Chris..." came the voice, and Paul slipped out of her embrace, opening the door a bit, and blocking the security guard's view of Trynia with his own body.
"Chris, can you find a pair of jeans for my girl here? She needs a change of clothes..." Paul whispered.
"Sure thing. I'm sure we can rustle up something..." he winked, and disappeared. Paul turned back to Trynia and smiled reassuringly. She was hit in the face with an extra large T-shirt, which smelled of Paul and fabric softener.
"Try that for starters. Breakfast is on its way... so you can wear that while we eat... and then Chris will get you something you can wear while we decide what we're gonna do about you..." he winked, hands on his hips. Leaning over, he grabbed a pair of his bluejeans, and what appeared to be blue thong underwear. Without thinking, he began to dress in front of her. Trynia shed her robe and pulled the shirt over her head, hunting for her bra. Paul coughed and handed the items to her. He threw on a tank top and slipped a shirt overtop, not bothering to button it. Long hair he slicked back into a blue bandanna, tying it over his moist curls.
Fortunately, Paul's T-shirt was long enough to come to her mid thighs, almost like a miniskirt. He threw her a pair of sweatpants she could slip on, for it was a little chilly in the room.
"Can I help you pack or something?" Trynia asked.
"That would be great, while we're waiting for breakfast," he nodded. She saw him take one of the acoustic guitars and fuss over it as he packed it away. Other various items he sorted threw and folded, while she helped him stash them into a duffel bag. All too soon, there was breakfast brought up, and Paul waved her over to sit at the small table in the kitchen suite. Pancakes, fresh fruit, and other healthy items awaited hem, in addition to fresh coffee. It was far healthier then the donuts or other junkfood she normally consumed out of saving money.
"Try the strawberries," Paul urged, putting some on her plate next to the pancakes. She ate more then she normally would, devouring a whole short stack, and juice and toast.
"So... what are you and the guys going to do about me?" Trynia asked, heart pounding a little. "Hopefully there's a bus station... but my car..."
"Hmm," Paul murmured, and rubbed his chin.
"I know you don't take women along..."
"Says who?" Paul winked. "You can't believe all the things you read, now can you?"
An electronic jangling came from somewhere in Paul's luggage, and he leapt up to find it. For a minute he hunted down the telephone, suddenly realizing it was in his other jeans. He gave her another wink and smile as he settled down, and talked to whoever it was on the other end.
"Yeah... she's here. What do you think? No... yeah... the car... did someone come for it? Good. Any word... what... that's stupid..."
He wiped syrup from his lips as Trynia tried not to appear as if she was listening. He held up a hand when she was about to say something, continuing to listen. For a time, Paul chewed in silence, nodding and muttering acknowledgement. Finally he said goodbye and clicked the telephone.
"What's the word?" Trynia asked.
"Well I sent Mark to try and start the car, but it wouldn't start. So he called the towing company to at least move it off the side of the road and have it towed... they're going to look at it soon. But I'm afraid they can't fix it or even do anything about it till sometime next week..."
"Oh shit," Trynia groaned, burying her head in her hands. "Without a car I can't get around... and I don't have the money to get it fixed!"
"Hey, don't' worry. Trust me," Paul shushed, reaching across the table to take her shaking hand in his. "We'll work this out. You don't have school this summer yet do you? When does your semester start?"
"End of August..."
"Okay... it's the end of June," Paul said. "So what would you do? Do you have a job?"
"I finished my teaching assistantship for the summer session. Normally I'd earn side money by tutoring... but I'd be doing research, without pay..."
"Would it be all right if you went away for a while?" Paul asked.
"Are you suggesting what I think..."
"How would you like to stick around for a little while. I mean we will be going up to New England for the next moth, but we are coming down this way again by August. And I'm sure by then your car will be fixed..."
"I can't believe... oh are you serious?" she gasped, heart skipping beats.
"I am, baby," Paul smiled warmly.
"But my apartment, my roommates need the rent and..."
"You can send them some money to cover that, till you come back," Paul suggested.
"But will this fly with the others. I mean what will I do?" Trynia asked pragmatically. "Other then keep you company that is?"
"Hmmm well I have a few ideas about that," he winked. "Let me talk to Gene later..."
"I wonder if he'll mind..." Trynia wondered.
"He won't have a choice," Paul laughed, squeezing her hand and kissing it. "After all we can't let one of our devoted fans down, can we?"
Minutes later the knock came from Chris and Trynia had just about helped pack the last item of Paul's clothes away as he scanned the room for anything else. Her dirty clothes Paul insisted on stashing in one of the suitcases to get washed later. He opened the door to the familiar security guard, Chris, who stepped inside.
"Ready to go, Mr. Stanley?" he asked, picking up two of Paul's suitcases.
"All ready. C'mon Trynia... no time to waste," Paul urged. He grabbed his guitar case and backpack.
"My purse..." Trynia whispered. "And bag. And I don't have any shoes!"
"Don't worry, I found a pair in your car," Chris said. "They made sure to take the stuff out of it and box it up carefully... in case they can't fix the car..."
She was grateful when he handed her the comfortable sneakers. Quickly she slipped them on, over her socked feet. "Thanks so much, you're a sweetie!" she cried.
"Hey, comes with the job..." Chris smiled.
"And what am I, chopped liver?" Paul joked.
"You're a sweetie too," Trynia smiled, leaning up and giving Paul a kiss on the cheek. He stroked his hand down her back, and handed her purse to her. They broke hands shortly for her to slip her purse over her shoulder. He pushed his backpack into her hand, and grasped her other in his free one. He lifted his guitar case and led the way out of the suite. Chris strode before them in the hallway, carrying the other suitcases with little effort.
Still wearing her borrowed clothes, she struggled to keep up with Paul's stride to the elevator. Morning air was chilly around them as they saw the buses queue up in the hotel parking lot. Trynia watched for a moment as the road crew tossed various cases into the compartments under each bus. Paul led her over to one bus that was predominantly purple and black, and trotted up the stairs inside.
"Don't you all ride on the same bus?" Trynia asked.
"Sometimes yeah," Paul laughed, urging her after him. "Unless we get on each other's nerves."
"What about Gene and the others?" Trynia asked him.
"They're going too, don't worry," he smiled. She drew in her breath at the comfort packed away in the bus. It was much like a small mobile home, complete with kitchenette, table, and a few plush seats up front. Chris settled behind the wheel, and smiled to Paul and Trynia.
"Make yourselves comfortable. We're heading out to our next stop..." he said, winking at Trynia. Paul indicated the comfortable side seating near the table, and she moved over to sit down. Paul settled next to her, relaxing as he leaned back and tossed his guitar down.
"We've got a good number of these buses," Paul explained to her silent question. "Road crew rides after us, so nobody can tell where we are... sometimes when one of us has to fly off on non band business we can always meet up with the main convoy later..."
There were perhaps five or six other places on the modified bus to sit in the cabin, separated from the front by a partition of simulated wood. A couch behind a table and four easy chairs were all in view of an entertainment center with a small television and DVD player. She guessed the small hallway led to a back bedroom, and a kitchenette.
Someone else was getting onto the bus, and Trynia felt her heart fluttering again when she saw it was Gene Simmons. He waved to Chris, and stepped up into the middle aisle. Trynia saw his brown eyes fix into hers, and she shivered with fear next to Paul. They had the same intense gaze, even if they were a few shades lighter then Paul's mahogany soul pools.
"Well, we have a visitor," Gene commented as he sat down in one of the chairs opposite the sofa. Trynia shrank away, but stopped when Paul's arm wrapped around her shoulder. Comfortably he moved closer, so his hip touched hers.
"Her car's a total loss," Paul said slowly. "It'll take at least a week or so to get it fixed..."
"True, but she's got her own life to deal with, don't you sweetheart?" Gene asked. "Didn't you say you were in school? Don't you have to be back for class?"
"She has a break. And she has no job till the semester starts, don't you?" Paul asked, urging Trynia to speak. From Gene's glare at Paul, she knew they had this discussion many times before.
"Is this true, Trynia?"
"Yes," she breathed, feeling the tension mount. "But I'm not..."
"Don't get me wrong, sweetheart," Gene said softly. "You're a sweet girl, but we aren't a taxi service. If you have to be somewhere..."
"If my being here is a problem, then I'll gladly go," she said slowly, then fixed her gaze into Gene's.
"It's not that you're a problem sweetheart," Gene cleared his throat. His look was not unsympathetic as he continued. "But you have to understand being on the road with us is not all romance and endless parties. We can't have too many distractions during rehearsals."
"I know it's hard work, if that's what you're implying. I know you are men with a job to do. I won't get in the way," Trynia countered.
"Good," Gene nodded. "Not to say we don't like you tagging along. But you have to know what you're getting into."
"It was Paul who invited me to tag along..."
"Well then, that's a different story," Gene said, his intense gaze sparkling with something other then annoyance.
"I had to twist her arm," Paul grinned, nudging Trynia. "And besides, I need someone to help me write my new book..."
"We'll talk about this later," Gene said. Another set of footsteps tromped on the bus, as Peter Criss trudged in with his own belongings.
"Hey, we have a visitor?" he asked, indicating Trynia.
"Uh huh," Gene nodded, and leaned back in his chair as he slipped his gargoyles on. It seemed as if all he wanted to do was sleep, as he tilted the recliner chair back and grabbed a blanket.
Peter settled down into the chair nearest the kitchen, and tossed his bag down. He pulled out an icepack, wrapped it around his one wrist, and then produced another for his other arm. Politely he smiled at Trynia, who waved to him. "What's your name, little girl?" he asked.
"Trynia," she said. "Trynia Merin."
"She's going to help me write my book," Paul said with a grin.
"Uh huh," Peter nodded. "So where are you from?"
"Villanova," she said, relaxing a bit.
"Where the hell is he," Gene grumbled, suddenly straightening up and glaring at his watch. "Late again!"
"Hey, you know Ace," Peter shrugged.
"Better get his fucking shit together," Gene grumbled. "We leave in five minutes..."
"Yeah, leave him stranded in bumblefuck Pa," Peter laughed. "He'd love that..."
"Really cool, Gene," Paul rolled his eyes. "You know he's gonna step on this bus any damn minute..."
Another set of footsteps stumbled as someone's feet hit asphalt. Feet stumbled heavily as they heard a cackle, and someone breathing heavily, "Damn don't leave without me guys! Shit!"
"Took you all of five minutes," Gene laughed.
"A world record," Paul joked. Ace strode onto the bus, sides heaving as he panted. The Trix rabbit shirt and faded jeans hardly matched the battered high-topped sneakers. Trynia drew in her breath sharply to see the face fix into hers, and toss her a wink. He looked the most different out of his makeup. Behind him strode a slender girl with blond hair and a sweet smile.
"Looks like we both got stowaways," he cackled.
"Who's that?" Gene asked. "Hello baby..."
"Oh my god," she gasped, putting hands over her mouth. "Its you... I love you guys!"
"Andora?" Trynia gasped, recognizing the girl immediately.
"Trynia? Holy shit! No way!"
"You two know each other?" Paul asked.
"Of course, we met at the KISS Expo in New Jersey!" Trynia cried. "Holee..."
A bit of hot jealousy bubbled up in Trynia for a moment when Paul's eyes walked over her. Ace pulled her to sit next to him, and she gave Trynia the thumbs up. Gene licked his lips, and Paul laughed. Peter rolled his eyes and settled back in his seat.
"Can we go... now?" Peter asked, a little irritated.
"You heard the man, shove off," Gene snapped his fingers. He settled down again, his brown eyes fixing into Trynia's with a lascivious gleam. She lowered her gaze, feeling her face flush. Under them all the bus lurched, dieseling to a full roar as they pulled out. One by one, the buses dieseled out of the hotel lot, onto the winding roads. Trynia watched the line behind them, wending their way out of Scranton. Soon they reached the Turnpike, and route 80 where they would head directly north.
Ace settled down, slipping on a pair of headphones. Andora curled up in the seat next to him, laying her head against his shoulder. Soon they were fast asleep, lulled by the motion of the bus and the drone of the diesel engine. Gene pulled out a leather planner, and began to peruse it intently. Peter leaned back and fell into a sleep himself, lulled by his own set of headphones. Paul squeezed Trynia's shoulder, and leaned down to reach for something in his bag.
"Wow, I can't believe I'm actually here..." Trynia whispered to him. "Traveling... with all of you... it's some strange dream come true. But what's this about a book?"
"Something I've been working on," Paul whispered back, and produced a notebook computer. He opened it up on the tabletop, shifting it toward her. He turned it on, and she saw Windows 98 flicker into life on the LCD screen.
"A memoir? Or a biography?"
"Hell no," Paul whispered. "No, this is so people can find out about how I think about life. My thoughts and outlook..."
"A Zen of Paul?" Trynia joked.
"I like that," Paul laughed, as he brought up Microsoft Word, and a list of files. He leaned around Trynia, and showed her the file he already had created.
"Now what seems to be the problem here?" she asked. "Organization?"
"Yeah. Songs are easy to write, I can write some of them in my sleep. But this... this is something really different."
"I'm honored you're considering having me edit this..." Trynia smiled.
"Who better then a KISS fan?" Paul smiled, breath warm against her ear. He gently nosed into her hair. Over her hip his hand tightened deliciously, and she fought the urge to kiss him. Why did she, Trynia wondered. Was it because she was afraid this was all some intense dream, and that she'd wake up from it?
"Hey," Paul whispered, and she felt him gently take her chin in his hand. "Why so shy? We have to do something about that!"
"What do you plan on doing?" she asked, feeling her pulse quickening. It was nerve-wracking to think of him approaching her thus in front of his bandmates, but none of them seemed to notice. Especially since Gene's snoring was barely audible over the bus engine, and Peter and Ace were both also out for the count.
"Hmm, that's a very good question baby," Paul winked. Absent-mindedly her hand had stolen over and stroked up and down his leg. He closed his hand over hers and slowly moved it higher. Sharply she drew in her breath, a hot wave rushing over her again. Amazing how Paul seemed to be even more into the hungry insatiable sexual appetite, as much as Gene.
"Paul... I have got to call my roommates again... and oh god my parents... what am I going to tell everyone?"
"Hey, don't worry," Paul reassured her. "We'll think of something."
"Well the rent will be due soon, and my friends might really wonder if this is legit... and yet how can I tell them I'm working for KISS... without jeopardizing security. If I call them and suddenly tell them I'm going off for two months without coming by to collect things, they're going to think I'm nuts or that I've been kidnapped. But how can I do this without making them worry, or having some massive rumor leak out..."
"It's sweet of you to worry about that baby," Paul smiled, pressing a soft sweet kiss to her lips that sent a wave of fire over her body. "But are any of them KISS fans?"
"No. None of them know who you are..."
"Jeez, That would normally suck, but in this case it will work to our advantage." Paul mused, rubbing his chin. "They wouldn't know me from Adam. And maybe if I called them and said that I was your employer..."
"Paul, they still wouldn't buy it... how are you going to..."
"Trust me. This calls for strategy... Hey GENE!"
"What," Gene grumbled, stirring in his chair.
"Can I borrow your brains for a minute? I need a good excuse for Trynia here..."
"Since when do you need an excuse, Romeo?" Gene cracked back. "Is this guy going technical on you, sweetheart?"
"It's just that I need to let my friends know where I am going to be for the next few months, and I don't want to just blurt out that I'm on the road with the hottest band in the world."
"Are any of them fans?"
"Nope," Trynia said.
"Their loss then," Gene sniffed. "So... what exactly is the master plan, smartass? Considering you've convinced our little friend to join us on the road... without a game plan?"
"A phone call, to make things official," Paul said, waving Gene over. Trynia shivered when Gene gently nudged her over, and sat on her other side. She was effectively sandwiched between both of them, and she felt her heart pounding a mile a minute now.
"Well what's the issue?" Gene asked. "You say you start school at the end of August... and you need a cover story, right? So you can help Stanley sort his Zen out..."
"That's the game plan," Trynia breathed, as the brown eyes fixed into hers. She was at first worried that Gene was annoyed, but the feeling of his body pressed against hers indicated the contrary.
"Well..." Gene mused. "You said that you write stories, right, doll? Do your friends know this?"
"They can't get me to shut up about them. They see me staying up late working on them on the computer... I hope to get some published someday..."
"Good start," Paul said. "So they know you're trying to make it as a writer..."
"Well chemistry is my career, but writing is my love..." she said.
"Hmm..." Paul smiled, and leaned over Trynia's lap to whisper something to Gene. The feel of his hand resting on her thigh made her almost wet herself with excitement. It was getting extremely hot behind that table.
"You're nuts," Gene rolled his eyes.
"Hey, you got a better idea?" Paul asked. "You're the brains remember! So stop bitching and help me on this!"
"I still say you're nuts," Gene said.
"What?" Trynia asked. "Gentlemen, please fill me in..."
"Later," Gene nudged her, and she groaned, head in her hands.
"Hey, don't scare her," Paul scolded him. "I want her to be awake for this!"
"Oh man I'm dead," Trynia groaned.
"Trust me," Paul smiled.
"You're scaring her, not me," Gene shot back at Paul, good-naturedly as he pulled something out of his leather jacket pocket. Trynia noticed it was a very slim digital Nokia phone. Paul reached into his own pocket, and pulled out a Startack, the sort that flips open. They glanced at each other.
"What's your roommate's number?" Paul asked.
"Uh... what are you two doing?"
"Relax," Gene said. "We don't want you missing the fun..."
"Is this legitimate?" Trynia asked him.
"Of course," Gene winked back at her, licking his lips. She let out a low muffled gasp, trying to stave off the combined sexual energies crackling between two of the most charged sexual objects known to her own fandom. Damn them, they just had to be so irresistible!
Paul punched buttons, and then handed the telephone to Trynia. "What do I do?" she hissed.
"Just tell them you've been recruited for a job... and then leave the rest to me."
"Uh... hello?" Trynia said on the phone when she heard her roommate Sharmane answer.
"Hello? Trynia? Where are you? We got your message about your car... and staying with friends... but who do you know up in Scranton? Are you staying with Mike's family?"
"Uh... no. I met some fellow KISS fans... at the concert..." she stammered out, trying to weave a story.
"You said that.... But are you all right? How's the car?"
"The car's a total loss," Trynia sighed. Paul whispered in her ear, "Tell her you met someone who gave you a ride... and offered you a job..."
"Are you all right... do you need one of us to pick you up?"
"Uh... no. Actually, something really amazing happened. One of the KISS fans happened to have connections... to someone who was editing a book... and they heard I was into writing..."
"And..."
"Well they offered me an editing job," Trynia said.
"Wow... but are you sure it's legitimate... are you coming home?"
"Well... the thing was I didn't have much money to come back. Or to get the car fixed. So they said that they wanted me to start right away..."
"But... what about the apartment and your school?"
"Uh... well it's only a temporary position..."
"Are you sure you know what you're getting into... what will we do about the rent...and how do you know...?" Sharmane asked.
"Let me talk to her," Paul whispered. "Tell her your employer's gonna talk to her..."
"Uh... Sharmane, my new boss is here, and he wants to tell you something..."
"What?"
"Hello, are you Sharmane, Trynia's roommate?" Paul asked, in a British accented voice. Trynia was impressed.
"Yes... who is this?"
"This is Mr. Stanley Rose. I happened to have been at the KISS concert..." Paul said. "And when I heard about Trynia's predicament, my partner Eugene and I happened to think that she would be perfect to help us edit our next book..."
"What company do you work for?"
"Chikara publishers. We're a new venture," Paul said. "We publish books about... life philosophies... that's right, Eugene, isn't it..."
"That's absolutely right," Gene said, taking the phone away from him and speaking in a slightly Middle Eastern accent. "We have some books out there on personal motivation... and inspiration..."
Trynia started to laugh, but struggled to muffle it as Paul gently shushed her. Gene continued, "Trynia told us you might be... doubtful. But I wanted to let you know that she'll be paid well for her services, including rent reimbursement for the time she is completing editing duties..."
"What will I tell her parents?"
Trynia grabbed the phone and said, "Don't worry. I'll call them soon. Just let them know I'm okay, and I'll be in touch!"
"It's all right... we can understand your trepidation," Gene said. "Don't worry... your friend is in good hands..."
"Very good hands," Paul said, continuing his British accent.
"Could I speak to Trynia again?"
"Certainly," Gene said, handing the cell phone back to her.
"Sharmane it's okay. I don't have much choice. The car's totaled, and I just have to take this..."
"What about your clothes?" came Sharmane's answer.
"I... well... I think they'll help me with any expenses, right?" Trynia asked. Paul nodded.
"Well... have fun... but please call us and let us know you're all right..." Sharmane said. "And please call your parents..."
"Will do," Trynia nodded. She looked from Paul to Gene after Sharmane hung up, and shivered.
"See that wasn't so bad," Paul said.
"But my parents..."
"We'll figure that out," Gene laughed. "After all, they can't suspect their good girl's gone bad can they? After Paul and I have corrupted her so well..."
"What, and have them spoil our fun?" Paul pouted. Trynia let out a small gasp, and buried her head in her hands.
"Hey, you all right?" Gene asked.
"You're both driving me crazy," she panted, trying to get her breath under control. "I can't help my reaction around you both..."
"What reaction is that?" Gene asked, voice dropping low.
"Every time I am around both of you... it's like I can't see straight. I can't help... but get extremely..."
"Extremely..." Paul asked.
"As in aroused..." she stammered. "Oh God did I just say that..."
"I believe the answer would be yes," Gene nodded, with a wicked grin.
"Oh stop..." she gasped. "I'm going to lose it... I can't..."
"Gene, turn off the smolder," Paul shoved him away. "She's about to faint!"
"You'd love giving her mouth to mouth, wouldn't you?" Gene shoved him back.
"Gene knock it off, I'm trying to sleep goddamn it!" Peter yelled across the bus. "Shit!"
"Get a room," Ace cackled, waking up.
"That's the peanut gallery heard from," Paul quipped. Surrounded by the entire foursome, she almost fainted immediately.
"Hey, you guys skip the Q and A and get to T and A?" Ace cackled.
"Wouldn't you love to watch," Gene smirked.
"Jesus Gene stop the bullshitting and get to business already! Some of us are trying to sack out!" Peter shot back.
"Well if you'd stop bellyaching maybe I could get somewhere," Gene shot back.
"There's a thing called sleep, and I want some!" Peter continued. "I mean like some of us aren't goddamn creatures of the fricking night!"
"And this is coming from a guy who picks a cat personality?" Paul asked. "Wanna change your name?"
Trynia suddenly burst out laughing. "What?" Peter asked.
"Watch out, Peter's been typecast!" she blurted out, flushing red
"No, he's been stereotyped!" Ace said. "But he's so damn old he's coming out mono!"
"Aww fuck you!" Peter laughed, and threw a paper cup at him. "You're no goddamn spring ass chicken yourself!"
"It could be professional suicide," Gene smiled. She felt embarrassed for breaking in on their bantering, but Paul's reassuring hand on her knee made her relax a little bit. By now, Andora had woken up, and she was laughing as well. Ace leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, turning his attention back to his friends.
"All cause of your bitching and moaning," Peter shot back. "You're giving me these damn gray hairs, Gene!"
"You died your hair that first time, Petey boy," Gene reminded him.
"Hey, at least I don't put silver paint in my hair like some morons," Peter joked. "Right Ace?"
"Hey, how was I supposed to know it was permanent?" Ace cackled.
"Try reading the container maybe?" Gene suggested. "I mean you read all those damn emails..."
"Hey I resemble that remark," Ace grinned.
"Do you ever," Paul laughed. "Do you ever, Ace..."
"So, you're helping write Paulies book?" Peter asked, changing the subject.
"He asked me to edit it," Trynia admitted.
"Cool!" Andora gave the thumbs up. "That rocks!"
"Uh is that all you're gonna have her do?" Ace asked.
"Shut up," Paul rolled his eyes.
"And I suppose Andora's helping take care of Ace's guitar, right?" Peter laughed.
"That's right!" Ace grinned.
"Uh huh," Peter nodded.
"I'm sure that other... distractions may come along," Gene said. "But now let's get some rest. It's a damn long way to Binghamton, New York!"
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