Chapter 1

The growl of the bike turned heads as the rider pulled into the car park. The bike was a Harley, jet black with chrome trim. The men looked on in jealousy, the women; well most women love a fit man on a mean machine, didn’t they? The rider had on jeans and a black leather jacket, it was decorated but people couldn’t make out with what. The visor was pitch black, people couldn’t see in, but the rider could see perfectly well out.

Two security men stopped the biker, ‘Hey man you can’t park in here.’ The bigger of the two said, blocking the way.

The rider was un-phased, reaching into the pocket pulling out a parking permit. The smaller guy took hold of the ticket, checked it against the guest list, smiled and nodded to his big partner. ‘Its ok man, he’s on the list. You get to park out the back, bay 4, right next to the tour buses. I’ll radio in that you’re on your way. Straight down, take a left and you can see the doors are open, head in there. Sure a damn nice bike you got there man!’ The little one all but drooled.

The biker saluted, gunned the engine and throttled up, moving slowly, the engine throbbing. Girls giggled and waved, the rider waved back, laughing in the helmet. Raising the right hand, it pushed a button on the side of the helmet and the music that was playing inside quieted.

The biker gently eased through the giant doors and rode into the bowls of the stadium, the grumbling of the machine echoing through the place, security guards waved the rider on, checking out rider and machine, nice rider. The rider looked kinda tall in the saddle.

Watching the floor the rider guided the Harley down the rows of coaches and cars till finally hitting the right bay. The bike came to a stop as a petite woman, in brown, was stood there waving her arms and shouting, ‘This is reserved, find somewhere else to park!’

The rider gave over the ticket again, and the woman looked stumped, ‘But you’re supposed to be a woman! How the hell did this happen?’ Some of the crew stopped to watch the little bird flapping its wings, they laughed, she may be little but she could sure shout and swear.

The rider switched of the engine, the deafening roar finally dying down, cocking a long leg over the seat the rider stood, stretched and towered over the little brown bird. Some of the men, security moved forward, just in case things turned nasty.

As the rider took off the helmet, everyone who was watching felt their jaws hit the floor, chocolate hair cascaded down the back, the head shaking wasn’t males, it was a female! And damn she was hot! She slowly unzipped the leather and you could here every man inhale and hold it, waiting to see what was underneath it. She stopped at the top of her cleavage and the groans went around the garage, damn! She held out her hand to the little brown bird, in a husky voice she said, ‘Honey, I am that female, I’m Lucky James, how do you do.’ Long tapered fingers closed about short ones.

‘Oh thank fuck! I thought my bosses had ballsed this up good and proper. Hell you’re tall aren’t you? Love the hair, I wish mine was like it. Your bike is fantastic, our photographer will love you, and oh I see Jack already does!’ She finally inhaled nodding towards a scruffy looking man, who looked like he’d just won the lottery, clicking away at the two women.

Lucky waved at the man, and smiled down at the other woman, damn she could talk for England! ‘What’s your name sweetie?’ Lucky grinned and if you listened carefully you could hear denim tighten.

The bird slapped her forehead, ‘Oh hell, sorry, I’m Mary Hughes, from Virgin, nice to meet you.’ She laughed and men realised she wasn’t a little brown bird, but a fox playing in the hen house. Her smile lit the place up and the laugh, well it was dirty, they took another look at the woman, and figured out she was damn cute!

‘Well Mary Hughes from Virgin, it’s nice to meet you.’ They both laughed and shook hands again. Lucky decided she like this woman, she may try to dumb down her cute look, she succeeded till she laughed or smiled, then you knew what a knock out she was.

‘Aren’t you excited? I mean you won a chance to meet your favourite group, go on stage, and then go backstage and do the meet and greet thing? If it was me I’d be talking and giggling like a giddy school girl. Not that I’ve been a school girl for a while but I might be giddy! Who’s your fav band man; tell me it’s got to be Jon that man is so fine, he should be declared too hot to handle! Or are you a Darksider? Sambora’s looking mighty fine this tour isn’t he? I’d not throw either of them out of bed and the th……’ Lucky slapped a hand over her mouth stemming the flow of questions.

The men watching laughed, and Lucky smiled, and Jack clicked on. ‘Calm down sweetie and take a breath will you, you’re wearing me out!’ Mary blushed and Lucky finally finished undoing her jacket, slipping it off, groans were heard.

‘Oh my god that top is beautiful, where did you get it from? God it’s perfect. Ok I’m shutting up!’ Mary chuckled again as Lucky threatened to gag her again! ‘I’m sorry, I’m nervous, I love this damn group have done for over ten years! I met Jon half an hour ago and I haven’t come down since. Hence my mouth on full ahead, again I’m sorry.’ She rolled her eyes; she hadn’t even remembered her name when Jon bumped into her.

She was envious of the tall creature in front of her. Lucky was tall nearly six foot, her jeans looked sprayed on and the woman had curves in the right places. She was wearing cowboy boots, black with a steel tip; it would hurt if she kicked someone!

And that top, well it was a deep blood red silk halter, that stopped about two inches from the top of her jeans. It had a modest cleavage, but the way Lucky filled it out made it look like she’d spill out of it if she leaned to far forward! And when Lucky turned to stow her leather in the saddle bags on the bike, sharp indrawn breathes could be heard, the back was held together with four diamante baggets. You didn’t open them you just pulled the top over your head. You could see her spine from neck to top of the jeans, her back silky smooth and pale, she wasn’t wearing a bra, so the top must have one inbuilt.

‘Hey you’ve got ink, what is it?’ Mary asked stepping forward. At the base top of the jeans just poking over when she leaned forward, was a row of musical notes. ‘Wow that’s so pretty.’

‘Thanks I had it done nearly twenty odd years ago, and I got it refreshed last year, it started to fade.’ Lucky smiled, it was her second tat, the first one, in homage, was on her hip bone that had been re-coloured too. She’d also go a new tat when she’d done the others, she now had a rose vine starting from her big toe on the left foot, and it curled around her ankle finishing up on her ankle bone, damn that bit had smarted! At her age she didn’t plan to have any more ink.

‘Excuse me ladies, are you ok here,’ an American sounding voice asked from behind them.