“One word. Five letters. The sweet pink currency that fueled the backstage hookup market. And right now I wanted some. I wanted it bad. I wanted to be buried balls-deep in two or three of the hottest fucking groupies I could find. I wanted to get up to some real deviant shit tonight. Hot, filthy, sheet-ripping, bed-breaking fucking. I planned to ring in my birthday with a night I would never forget. Slick with sweat from an extended set, I reached up to rake my fingers through my long hair but e...ncountered the short bristles of my new haircut. It threw me off for a moment. The modified Mohawk with the sides buzzed short and top trimmed low had been a spur of the moment decision I had made in a fit of frustration a few mornings ago. My constantly cracking voice and aching throat were getting on my last damned nerve. I scratched my fingernails along my scalp. I didn't exactly regret the move to hack off a decade's worth of hair growth, but I was still getting used to the strange, light feeling up top.MoreLessRead More Read Less
User Reviews: