Page 15 of Grave Dissonance

“Whatever, man,” Iggy spits. He’s trying to infuse indifference in his voice, but it sounds like annoyance.

I stand there silently as Iggy throws the clothes he’s discarded on the floor back on his body. “It was bold to assume I’d want to sleep beside your naked body.”

Iggy doesn’t turn around to look at me. His chest rises and falls as his ragged breaths become deafening. He pulls his shirt over his broad frame and then spins to glare at me. He says nothing right away. Instead, he tugs at one of his snake bite piercings, forcing my eyes to zero in on his lips. Iggy lifts his gaze from the ground, stares me down with the intensity of his blue eyes, and smirks. “It was bold of you to send me a load of your cum, but you did it anyway. It’s kind of funny, Mar. It seems like you want to take the lead in our so-calledrelationship.” He spits the last word with utter venom before stepping toward me again.

Each step he takes has fear spiking in my head. I’m not sure what he’ll do or how my body and mind will react. Iggy smiles once he corners me up against the wall. His eyes smolder, but that twisted smirk remains on his lips. I flinch as his hands slam against the wall by my head. My body shivers as he brings his mouth to my ear and whispers, “To be honest, I’ve got no problem with you being on top, baby, but you kinda have to be a man to take charge, not a scared, pathetic boy.”

My body trembles as Iggy’s lips brush against my pulse point. “So what’s it gonna be, Mayhem? You gonna man up?” When I don’t respond, Iggy uses his hand to push up off the wall and laughs. “Whatever, man, I’m outta here. There are much prettier little bitches than you.”

My arm lunges forward and I fist his t-shirt, slamming his back up against the wall. Our eyes lock as my hand snakes around his neck. I am almost expecting Iggy to fight, but he doesn’t. “What a good little submissiveslut you are, Iggy. Is this what you were hoping for? For me to pin you up against the wall, and do what, exactly?” My other hand moves into my boxers and I pull out my hard dick. “Did you want to suck me off again?” I pull Iggy down by his neck until he’s on his knees before me. “Go ahead, be a good boy, and take what you really want. Go on, open that pretty little mouth and gag for me.”

Iggy’s eyes bounce between my rampaging cock and rage-filled eyes. This time I laugh and smirk down at his face. My hand tightens around his throat. “Who’s a pathetic boy now, bitch?”

Strong hands roam up my legs and grab my ass, drawing me forward. Bright blue irises peek up at me. Eyes that hold my soul within their depths and singe me to the darkest parts of my soul. I’m frozen in the moment, lost in this man's beauty as he kneels before me. Iggy smiles as his mouth parts and he places the tip of my dick between his lips. Lips that I want to kiss until they’re battered and bruised.

“Iggy.” My eyes shut as I moan his name like a tender caress of a lover, forgetting the anger-fueled lust coursing through my veins moments ago.

Then the moment’s lost. My ass hits the floor and confusion sets in as I stare at Iggy standing above me. His hands rub against his neck and I can still see the faint red marks my fingers left there.

“I like this shit, Marley. I like the marks you leave on me. Fuck, I even enjoy them. I’ll gladly get on my knees and suck your cock so well you’ll think I’m going to die from suffocation. You know what I fuckin’ won’t do?” Iggy bends down, bringing his face a centimeter away from my own. “Be a toy you can wind up and then toss in the corner of a room.”

He steps over my legs and walks out, leaving me panting on the floor.

CHAPTER 9

Iggy

The days drag into weeks of Marley and me avoiding each other. I even forced Kaye to get me a bus of my own. The idea of being confined in a small space with him had my skin itching. Kaye tried to ask questions, but after I told her I really didn’t want to be imprisoned for homicide, she backed off and gave me her bus. I don’t think it was a hardship for her since she shacked up with the lead singer of our opening act.

I hope I won’t commit manslaughter, but the way Marley has my blood boiling and my heart flipping irrationally doesn’t make me confident in my prediction. A rational person would probably calmly talk about this,but I am not patient or reasonable. All I know is, I want something, and for the first time in my life, I can’t have it.

Lars calls me the golden boy because, unlike the other members in the band, I like my family and they like me. My parents have always encouraged my dreams and even put aside their lives so they could help me follow them.

I was ten when I told my dad I wanted to play the guitar in a rock band. My father smiled, took me to a music store, and I bought my first acoustic. When I quit college to busk on the sidewalk, my parents didn’t freak out. My pop told me it would be a cool story to tell the magazines when I was in a big rock band. My dad was right. It makes a killer story and gets reporters all starry-eyed. If people discovered the countless reporters I’ve fucked after they’ve heard the story, they’d be scandalized.

Women love an underdog story. It gets them crying from both their eyes and in between their thighs.

Unlike my bandmates, my parents were very present in my life. When we played my hometown, they would all come out hooting andhollering my name. This support is something I revel in and look forward to, but not during this tour.

This time around, I want to play our set and then drink myself unconscious in my hotel room by myself.

“Ig, you still there? Hello? Did we get disconnected? I hate cellphones.”

“I’m here, Mom,” I say as I try to focus on her voice at the other end of the phone. She’s been talking my ear off for the past thirty minutes about how she’s so excited to see everyone.

“Does Billie have any allergies? I’m so excited to meet her.”

Billie is the only person who has yet to be accosted by my mother. “Nope, but I’m sure Lars already filled you in on her. You talk to him more than you call your own flesh and blood.”

Lars lovingly calls her the band mom, since his own mother passed years ago. I used to find it annoying how Lars would basically fawn over my mom. It made me feel like aterrible son, but he is excessive. Lars set the bar for pampering my mom so high there’s nothing I can do to outdo him. Which irritates me.

“Oh hush, you and I both know Marley is my favorite.” At the sound of Marley’s name, my chest tightens. “How is my sweet boy, anyway?”

I know she’s asking about Marley, but I can’t tell her how he is, even if I wanted to. Marley Banks and I have been avoiding each other like the plague. “Me? I’m great, Mom. Thanks for asking.”

“You may be my flesh and blood and I might love you to the moon and back, but you and I both know you are far from my sweet boy. Marley’s been weird during our calls. You know he missed his call last week? I waited until nine before I called to yell at him. In eight years, he has never missed his weekly call. That boy loves me more than you do. I need you to take care of him, Iggy. You better make sure my sweet boy is happy.”

“Whoa, you’d think he’s your actual son and not me.”