Lost Weekend (A Rocked Story) by Clara Bayard

Lost Weekend
    I yawned loudly before climbing into the back of the taxi.
    “That wasn’t very promising for our romantic weekend, babe,” Joe said with a smile as he slid in on the other side.
    “Sorry. Early flight, very little sleep.”
    He pulled me across the seat so our bodies were touching from shoulder to leg. “I don’t mind. I’m just glad we’re here.”
    “Me too.” And I was. After Joe’s band had finished recording their album, they’d headed out to the west coast for two months – doing promotion and re-recording and who knows what else. I’d planned to visit, but the timing never worked out. I’d missed him desperately, and even though I could barely keep my eyes open, my heart was leaping from just being close to him again.
    He turned his head and planted a soft kiss on my lips before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of fabric.
    “What’s that?”
    Joe flashed his crooked grin, the one that turned me to jelly every time. “A blindfold. For your surprise.”
    “What? We’re in New York. It was on my plane ticket. And a lot of signs. The surprise is ruined.”
    He chuckled. “Just go with me on this, okay?”
    I arched an eyebrow.
    “Don’t you trust me, Liss?”
    “Generally.”
    “Babe, you left your whole life behind to go on tour with me. You should be willing to trust me for half an hour in a car.”
    “Fine,” I said with a shrug. He had a point. Granted, the road hadn’t been entirely smooth, but after almost a year of drama, we were together and in love. And I did trust him. With my heart and my future. So I shut my eyes and bent my head to let him blindfold me.
    “Good girl. Now, sit back and relax. I have to make a quick call but before you know it we’ll be there and I’m all yours for four days.”
    I smiled. “Okay.” I pushed my curly hair out of the way and rested my head on his shoulder.
    Joe wrapped an arm around my waist and pushed his hand under the hem of my shirt, splaying his fingers over my skin. His hands were cool, but as always, his touch made me flush as sensual heat spread out from the point of contact.
    I briefly considered doing something about that, but I felt him shift and then the soft beeps as he dialed a number. With a tiny sigh that was part disappointment but mostly exhaustion, I snuggled in closer and began to drift off to the sound of his voice.
    Barely conscious, I considered how bizarre and wonderful my life had become. I was in the back of a cab with the lead singer of a hugely popular rock band, after getting flown first class to New York City for what Joe called a “Lost Weekend,” a few days for us to hide from the world. It wasn’t the original meaning of the phrase, but I’d take it. So much of his time was spent surrounded by other band members and their management and fans; it was amazing to get away from everyone. Hell, it was great to be in a normal sized car without the gang. Great and quiet.

    I woke to the sensation of Joe’s lips on my neck. I sat up straight and turned my head a few times quickly, momentarily confused about why I couldn’t see anything.
    His throaty chuckled reminded me. “Relax. We’re here.”
    “Can I take the blindfold off?”
    “Not just yet.”
    I frowned. “How long was I out?”
    “Forty minutes or so. I would have let you sleep, but the meter is running.”
    I giggled. “You’re a rock star, what are we doing in a normal cab anyway?”
    “Not this weekend. Here and now I’m just Joe. Spending a couple days in a great city with the hottest girl in the world.”
    I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. It had taken me a while to learn to trust that he truly appreciated my curvy, wobbly body, but I’d never really understand it. “Okay, Romeo. No need to lay it on that thick.” I twisted and winced, sore from sleeping sitting up like that. “Get me out of this car and into a bathtub. There will be a tub wherever we are, right?”
    “Of course.” With