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Oh my God, I feel it in the air
Telephone wires above
Are sizzlin' like a snare
Honey I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere
Nothin' scares me anymore
☮ ☮ ☮
The ride to the party was unusually silent. Debbie and her mum sat in the front of the extended car, talking among themselves while John and I sat in the far back, not making a sound. I lay on his lap, with my head on his thighs while one of his hands were rested on my belly.
There was a tension in the air that I couldn't bear to ignore for any longer. It wasn't hostile, or unwelcoming, but it was a foreign tension that I couldn't put my finger on. I knew Jonesy felt it too, the way his body would twitch and jolt everytime I touched him. The way his touches seemed to linger for eternity, burning through my skin like hot coal. Whenever we'd make eye contact, it was held for too long, neither of us breaking it first. My breaths were shorter and my heart felt like it was going to burst right out of my chest. Whatever this tension was, it was one thing for sure. Hungry.
Hot, fervent, and hungry.
☮ ☮ ☮
"This is Bonzo, our drummer. Bonzo this is Carmen." John said taking my hand, and leading me to the man seated at the bar.
The burly drummer took my hand and kissed it feather soft. "I've heard lots about you. You look incredible."
Smiling sheepishly, I hid myself behind my hair, novice to the sweet words and praises. "You're too sweet, it's nice meeting you." I bid one last farewell before John slipped a warm hand on the small of my back and led me to the other band mates.
"He's not lying, ya know." John whispered lowly into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. Leaning up on my tiptoes, I planted a kiss on his cheek and slipped my hand into his.
"Thank you Jonesy."
In the next hour, he'd introduce me to some roadies, his incredibly intimidating manager, Peter Grant, and his lead singer who appeared to be a painting straight out of the Renaissances. He kept me close by his side all night, shielding me from the hungry glances I'd get every now and then.
