Title of Story: Whole Lotta Love

Word Count: 6,049

Type of Edward: Rock'N'Rollward

Category: Literotica

Story Summary: Edward Masen's Friday nights are usually spent with his friend Mike at Rodney's English Disco. The club itself doesn't have much appeal to him, but the escape it presents him is just what he needs. On one night there, he meets Izzy—an enigmatic girl that fascinates him. A lookout point, Mandies, and Rock 'N' Roll set the stage for their unfolding story.

Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

Los Angeles, California – 1974

It was just another typical Friday night at Rodney's English Disco when I saw her for the first time. My friend Mike and I were looking to blow off some steam, so we headed there, knowing it was the perfect place for the occasion.

Glam Rock blasted from the speakers as we entered, reverberating in the packed room. The androgynous crowd looked multiplied by a mirror-covered wall that lined one side of the dance floor where scantily dressed patrons moved to Gary Glitter's "Do You Wanna Touch Me."

As I looked around the club, scanning the crowd, I spotted her.

She was with a younger girl, leaning against a wall as she smoked a cigarette. She had the look of a tough girl—of someone who couldn't and wouldn't be controlled—yet her beauty gave her a feminine touch. Her long, dark hair framed her face, contrasting greatly with her alabaster skin, but what stood out the most was the red lipstick she wore.

It was like the call of a siren, beckoning me to her.

Her stance showed confidence, and her face held a disclaimer that clearly warned you not to fuck with her. You didn't find many girls like her, especially at this type of club. Most of the girls at Rodney's were going for the Glitter Glam look with their Farrah Fawcett hairstyle, heavy make-up and skimpy, sparkly outfits. It was all part of the latest trend and it made girls look generic, yet she was anything but.

This girl wore black leather pants and what seemed to be a band t-shirt under her jean jacket; she also wore Chuck Taylor All Stars instead of platform boots.

She was totally different and it piqued my attention. A lot.

I wondered if her persona was just a front she used to keep people away, and for some reason, I wanted to find out. In order to that, though, I would have to talk to her, but I knew that I couldn't do that at the club, so I had to take her somewhere else to do so. I was conscious that it would be a feat to get her to leave with me, but I was definitely willing to try.

I knew that Mike wouldn't mind if I took off with her since it wasn't something that I hadn't already done, and he also did the same with many girls before. I could see him working his charm with Jane—an extremely clingy girl from school—and I knew that he'd regret it later, but I wasn't going to warn him.

Looking at the mysterious girl again, I saw her talking with the younger girl as they checked out the dance floor. They were probably criticizing the other girls at the club given that they were laughing and making funny faces. For a brief moment, I wondered if it was possible that they were a couple since her friend seemed to be a bit more tomboyish than she was, but it didn't seem so.

Waiting for the perfect moment to approach her, I saw as Mike and Jane headed to dance floor where they immediately began getting handsy with each other. A couple songs later, I noticed that the young girl was walking toward the restroom. I took that as my opportunity to talk to her, but another guy apparently thought the same since he immediately approached her.

Making my way toward the other side of the club, I watched as he unsuccessfully tried to work his charm on her. Just when I was going to reach her, the guy walked away, shaking his head in disbelief of being turned down. Chuckling, she looked at me as I stood in front of her and pulled out my box of Camels.

"You got some fire?" I asked her before taking out a cigarette and placing it on my lips.

"Sure," she snickered, taking out her lighter.

As she did, I tipped the box of my smokes her way, offering her one. She accepted it and placed it between her lips as well. I took the lighter from her hand and lit her cigarette and then mine. She took a long drag from her smoke and exhaled, snickering as she sneered at me.

Taking a drag from my smoke, I lightly scowled. "What's so funny?"

"You are," she scoffed, flicking the ash of her cigarette.

"Me?" I asked, incredulous. "Why?"

"Because I can't believe you'd be lame enough to use that line, y'know? Man, if you wanna get girls, you're gonna have to be a little more creative than that."

Now it was my turn to scoff. "What makes you think I'm trying to make a move on you?" And of course, that was a load of shit because it was clear that that was exactly what I was doing.

She raised her brow. "I won't believe for a second that you came all the way across from the dance floor just so I could light your smoke—especially since I know you have your own lighter."

"Fine, you caught me," I jeered, exhaling some smoke. "Is it so bad that I want to get to know you?"

"You want to get to know me, or you want to get in my pants?" she defied.

"Does it matter?" I asked, smirking cockily.

"Not really." She shrugged, taking another drag from her cigarette. "Guys like you don't faze me anymore."

"Guys like me?" I shook my head. "You really shouldn't make assumptions about people without knowing them."

"I could tell you the same thing," she said pointedly.

Touché.

"Okay, you're right," I chuckled. "I apologize for that."

"Don't," she taunted. "Maybe I do want to live up to your assumptions."

Exhaling smoke again, I leaned closer to her and raised my brow. "Is that right?"

The enigmatic girl just shrugged, puzzling me once again.

At that precise moment, her friend returned. She stood next to us, looking at me in contempt as she appraised me from head to toe. While she did so, I took a second to appraise her as well. She was dressed almost the same as her friend, but she wasn't wearing any make-up, making her look too boyish.

"Hey, Makenna," mystery-girl said. "I want you to meet my new friend…"

"Masen," I replied for her.

"Nice to meet you," Makenna deadpanned.

Makenna's friend rolled her eyes, and then said, "So, yeah… we were just waiting for you to come back so I could tell you that we're taking off."

I tried to act unsurprised, as if I knew this already, but I know that I failed miserably based on Makenna's scoff.

"Are you coming back soon?" Makenna asked her friend. "And what am I going to tell Riley?"

"I don't know how long I'll be gone, but just tell Riley that I'll be back, okay? Tell him to wait for me."

"Fine," Makenna said, obviously not happy about her friend leaving.

Said friend looked at me and smiled. "Alright, Masen, let's get out of here."

"Sure thing," I replied, waving slightly at Makenna before heading to the exit with her friend trailing behind me.

As soon as we were out of the club, I turned to mystery-girl and smirked. "So, where do you wanna go?" I asked, disposing my cigarette.

"Doesn't really matter," she said, following suit. "Let's just get away from here."

I raised my brow. "You don't like Rodney's?"

"Not really," she admitted, scowling. "It's my first time here, but I can't say that I like it."

"No wonder I hadn't seen you before." I nodded. "I definitely would have noticed you."

"Are you a regular here?" she asked.

"Yeah, but the Glam Rock scene really isn't my thing. I'm mostly here for the perks that come along with a club like this."

"Like accessible pussy," she retorted.

"Yeah," I conceded, because there was no denying that, and she knew it. "But my visits are mostly to purchase Mandies and other goodies."

"Mandies?"

I leaned close to her, and said, "Vitamin Q? 714, you know?"

"Oh, Quaaludes, man," she replied, nodding. "Yeah, I know about those 'goodies'."

I chuckled. "Have you ever taken them before?"

She leveled me with her gaze. "You don't expect me to be a goody two shoes, do you? I mean, if I were, I wouldn't be here with you right now."

"Oh, definitely," I agreed, "so, what do you say? Should we get going, or what?"

"Let's get going," she chuckled, mirthfully.

"Alright, we just need to get my car, and then we can get away from here," I said, leading the way to the parking lot.

"Have you decided where are you're taking me yet?"

Smirking playfully, I looked to her, and said, "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

"You're not, like, some psycho that's gonna take me to an empty lot and dispose my body after you've had your perverted way with me, right?" she teased.

"Nope, too many witnesses have seen us together already for that plan to work out. Maybe next time," I said, winking. "But know what? I'm not so sure you should get in my car without telling me your name, stranger."

"Stranger?" she chuckled, rolling her eyes. "My name's Isabella, but everyone calls me Izzy."

"Izzy," I echoed. "I like it."

"I like your name, too," she confessed.

I smiled sheepishly for some unknown reason. "Actually, that's my last name. My name's Edward, but since that's also my dad's name, I just go by Masen."

She shrugged. "It's still cool, man."

"Thanks." I stopped, having reached where I'd parked. "So, this is my car," I said, pointing to my silver Camaro with black stripes.

Izzy gaped as she looked at it. "This is your ride?"

"Yeah," I snickered. "You like it?"

"Like it?" she scoffed. "It's a 1969 Chevy Camaro SS, so, no, I don't like it—I love it."

Chuckling amusedly, I nodded. "You sure know about cars."

"That's what happens when you're raised around a bunch of boys," she said in way of explanation. "And it doesn't help that I spend most of my time around my dad's shop, either."

"Does that mean that you like to get down and dirty with cars?" I teased.

Smirking, she retorted, "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

"Now that's a challenge that I'm willing to take on."

.

.

Once we'd gotten in the car and headed to Mulholland Drive, I asked Izzy to open the compartment glove and hand me the cassette I had stashed in there.

"Aladdin Sane?" she asked, raising her brow as she took it out. "I thought you didn't like Glam Rock."

"I don't, but David Bowie is David fucking Bowie," I scoffed. "He's one of the best out there."

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, man," she chuckled. "I was just saying."

As she handed me the tape, I couldn't help but smirk for what felt like the hundredth time that night. I inserted it in my stereo and pushed play, waiting for "Watch That Man" to begin.

"You changed the Camaro's stereo," Izzy pointed out. "You have a Pioneer KP4000 now, right?"

I nodded—amazed by this girl's knowledge. It was clear in the way that she'd noticed that my older stereo wouldn't be able to play this type of cassette tape. Also, she knew which type of stereo I had replaced it with, and that was astounding.

"What about you?" I briefly looked over at her, saying, "Do you like Bowie? And if you do, please don't tell me that your favorite Bowie song is "Rebel Rebel.""

"What's wrong with that song?" she snapped, looking around in my glove compartment.

"Too overplayed," I told her.

"Okay, true… very true," she conceded. "So what other music do you like besides David Bowie?"

"The Doors," I replied, grinning. "I love "Roadhouse Blues." It's my all time favorite song."

Izzy just chuckled as she took out a small pill bottle containing Mandies. "Vitamin Qs?" she asked. "Can I?"

"Go ahead."

She took one out, popped it in her mouth and then looked over at me, silently offering me one. At my nod, she grabbed the pill and scooted closer to me, putting it between my lips. Parting them slightly, I swallowed it, noticing how Izzy was looking intently at me.

It was a good thing we were at a stop light; otherwise, we would have definitely crashed.

Bring us out of our trance, Izzy chuckled. "Led Zeppelin is so much better than The Doors."

.

.

.

"What's your favorite Zeppelin song?" I asked her as we relaxed in my car.

We'd finally reached the lookout point on Mulholland Drive where I'd set out for when we left the club, and the Quaaludes were definitely kicking in.

"Hmm," Izzy murmured lazily, closing her eyes as she leaned back in her seat. "That's a tough question… I have so many."

"Well, then which songs are they?" I prompted.

""Immigrant Song," "Black Dog," "Stairway to Heaven," and probably the one I like the most is "Whole Lotta Love,"" she confessed.

"Wow, those are some eclectic choices," I pointed out. "And they're all by the same band, so that should tell you something."

"What? That they're the best Rock 'N' Roll band of all time?"

I scoffed. "Your band has nothing on mine, mystery-girl."

Izzy chuckled, making me look over at her. "Did you just call me mystery-girl?"

"Fuck," I muttered.

"Oh, my god," she chuckled again, opening her eyes and turning in her seat to face me. "You totally did."

I just shrugged—unable to do anything about it.

"Why did you call me that?"

"It's what I've been calling you in my head since I first set my eyes on you in the club," I confessed. "It's very fitting."

"Am I really that mysterious?" she murmured, looking up at me beneath her lashes.

"To me you are," I told her. "You're the most unique girl I've ever met."

"So are you," she blurted out, "although you actually kind of look like James Dean."

That cracked me up. "Oh, you have no idea how many times I've heard that before." Especially from girls that tried to get into my pants.

"Well, maybe if you didn't wear that leather jacket with those jeans and those boots," she said, pointing out my clothes, "then maybe nobody would tell you that. I mean, just your looks alone resemble his, is all I'm saying."

I shook my head, chuckling. "Are you always this snarky?"

"Are you always this nosey?" she retorted.

"I'm just trying to figure you out, mystery-girl," I whispered, gazing intently into her eyes. Unconsciously, I licked my lips, noticing that Izzy was closing the distance between us.

"You know what I'm trying to figure out?" she told me. "Why you haven't kissed me yet."

"Is that what you want?"

Nodding, she leveled me with her gaze. "Yeah, so what are you waiting for?"

Nothing more, that was for sure, as I pressed my lips to hers. Our kiss began, soft, teasing and testing, but it quickly escalated to more. She parted my lips with her tongue as her hands made their way into my hair, threading and tugging it gently.

"Oh, fuck," she muttered.

"I know," I said, dumbstruck by the intensity of our kiss.

In a sudden moment, Izzy had managed to cross the center console and into my lap where she straddled me. We continued kissing passionately—whether it was a result of our chemistry, or the drugs in our system, I didn't know.

My hands roamed her body, exploring her curves, as our kisses intensified even more if that were possible. When I groped her backside, Izzy moaned out, tugging my hair harder.

"Do you wanna take this to the backseat?" I panted, breaking away from our kiss.

She shook her head. "I want to, but there's not enough space for me to remove my leather pants."

Fuck. This girl was going to be the death of me.

"What do you wanna do, then?" I asked, looking up at her through my heavy-lidded eyes.

"Let's stay here, yeah?"

At my nod, she continued kissing me, but her hands moved to dispose her jacket. Once that was out of the way, she returned her hands to my hair, tugging it as she kissed me hard. Her movements spurred me further, and in a bold move, I cupped her breasts. She didn't seem to mind, though, since she moaned into my lips, rocking her hips against mine.

My cock had already begun to harden, but with her thrusts, I was at full mast in no time.

Groaning, I thrust up into her, kneading her breasts harshly—which she seemed to enjoy.

We continued this way for another couple of minutes, kissing and grinding into each other until I couldn't take it anymore.

Parting my lips from hers, I gulped loudly, listening as David Bowie continued singing in the background.

Izzy bit down on her lip, closing her eyes as she exhaled.

I moved my hands to the waistband of her pants, asking, "Can I touch you?"

"Yes," she replied, breathily. "Please."

Promptly, I unbuttoned her pants before lowering her zipper and snaking my hand into her panties.

Izzy moaned loudly as my fingers reached the center her sex, clutching my shoulders tightly. She was slick from her arousal, coating my fingers as I inserted two into her.

"Oh, fuck," she panted.

"Do you like that, baby?" I whispered in her ear, moving my fingers inside her.

She nodded, leaning down to kiss me as she rocked her hips, meeting my thrusts. Her hands went back into my hair again, threading her fingers and pulling it gently. When I sped up my movements, I could feel her approaching her release quickly. Her body trembled as I circled her clit with my thumb, causing her to cry out. It wouldn't take that much for her to orgasm, so with my free hand, I reached up and groped her pebbled nipple.

A string of profanities left her lips as she fell over the edge, shutting her eyes as pleasure washed over her.

I sat in awe, breathing heavily as I waited for her to come down.

When she did, Izzy looked down at me. "Wow," she exhaled. "That was intense."

"Yeah," I agreed, taking out my hand from her pants as I placed a soft kiss against her lips.

"God, I hadn't felt something that powerful before," she confessed.

"Well, I'm glad I could do that for you, and although I'd love to stay here and do it again, we should get going," I told her, knowing that it was getting late and her friends were probably worried about her.

"What about you?" she asked, looking down at my lap.

"I'm fine," I said truthfully. "Let's go."

She raised her brow at me. "Are you sure?"

"Definitely," I nodded, knowing that although my erection was still very present, it wasn't to the point where it'd be painful.

For the first time ever, my satisfaction wasn't important. Her pleasure was mine, too.

"Maybe next time you can take care of me, yeah?" I asked, hopeful that there would be in fact another time.

She smiled, saying, "Yeah."

.

.

.

When we returned to the club, Makenna was standing outside, making it clear that she'd been waiting for Izzy.

"So, I guess I'll see you soon," Izzy said to me.

I looked over at her and smiled. "I think I've said it already, but I really do want that."

Grinning, Izzy reached over to me and gave me a soft kiss. "I hope I can come back, Masen, but Riley's my ride here, and if he doesn't come then I don't, either."

Exhaling harshly, I leaned my forehead against hers. "Then you have to give me your phone number, baby," I begged. "I need to figure out a way to see you sooner."

And it was true—this girl had bewitched me for some unknown reason, making me want to spend more time with her. I'd been so wrong when I thought that I could figure her out, because all I'd gotten from tonight was the name of her favorite band.

"I can't," she sighed. "The only telephone we have is at the shop, and my dad would never let your calls go through to me."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," I muttered.

"I'm sorry," she said, ruefully. "I really wish there were some other way that we could stay in touch, but all we can do is come back here and meet up again if we're lucky."

"That's okay," I placated her. "We'll just have to that."

She looked down, nodding. "Okay," she sighed again. "I gotta go… but thanks for tonight, Masen."

"It was my pleasure," I said honestly.

.

.

.

.

.

Taking a drag from it my cigarette, I exhaled its smoke as I sat on a couch, bouncing my leg nervously.

Once again, it was Friday night and I was on edge.

Mike and I had headed over to our friend Emmett's house party to have some fun, but I was far from doing so. One would think that The Door's songs that were loudly played would soothe me; however, it wasn't that way. The couple of beers that I'd already drunk since we got there weren't helping me relax, yet I had a feeling that my anxiety had to do with Jessica Stanley sitting next to me.

She was getting on my nerves by continuously trying to flirt with me when it was obvious that I wasn't interested. And it wasn't only because she's one from the bunch of the generic blondes at the party, but mainly since I know that she's been with many guys from our school. Her fashion style also reminds me of the girls at Rodney's, which in turn makes me think of Izzy.

If I were honest with myself, I'd admit that she's the real reason cause behind my unease.

Three weeks passed since I last saw her, and I was dying to see her again given that I'd gone back to the club in hopes of finding her there without any success. I know she said that she'd have to wait until her friend could take her, yet I couldn't help but wish that it'd be sooner.

One could hope, right?

Exhaling loudly, I looked over to Mike, who was sitting next to Jessica. "Hey, man, I'm gonna head out," I told him.

"What?" he asked, perplexed. "Where are you going?"

"I don't know," I lied. "I just need to get out of here."

"How am I gonna get back home?" Mike asked, as I took another drag from my smoke. "You're my ride, remember?"

"I can give you a ride," Jessica immediately offered.

"Of course you can," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

Mike chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, man, I'll see you on Monday."

Without saying anything else, I made my way to the exit, but was stopped by Rosalie—Emmett's girlfriend—on my way there. "You're leaving already, Masen?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "I'm sorry I can't stick around longer, but I'll see you at my birthday party next weekend, right?"

"Of course," Rosalie assured me. "Emmett and I will even be there early to help you set up."

I smiled. "Thanks, Rose; that would actually be nice."

"Is it okay if I bring some friends with me?"

"As long as Jessica is not included in that group of friends, it's all good."

She sneered, crossing her arms. "What's wrong with Jess going?"

"Seriously?" I asked as I raised my brow. "She was practically dry-humping my leg, Rosalie—even when I told her I wasn't interested. I don't need to deal with that shit on my birthday."

Chuckling, Rosalie nodded.

"Besides," I added, "I seriously don't understand why she's pining over my cock when she's willingly jumping into bed with other guys. I haven't even left and I'm almost positive that she's hooked up with someone already."

Looking over to where I had left Mike and Jess, Rosalie and I saw that surely enough Jess was already making out with Mike.

I shook my head and waved at Rosalie. "I'll see you."

Finishing my smoke as I finally made my way to my Camaro, I disposed it and opened the door to my car. Once seated, I started it up and pulled out, driving toward Rodney's English Disco.

That was my destination. There was no denying it.

It was the only place that I wanted to be, hoping once more to see Izzy.

.

.

.

As I drove down Sunset Boulevard, and got closer to the club, I saw her.

Izzy was standing outside with Makenna and a couple of boys around her age. They were all smoking, laughing over something one of the guys was saying, but when Izzy spotted me as I parked on the curb, she became silent. I locked eyes with her as I got out of my car, becoming rendered by her beauty once more.

She was dressed differently from the night we met. Gone were the black leather pants, but they'd been switched for a jacket. This time, she wore dark blue fitted jeans which showcased her curves, and her Chucks had been replaced by cherry red Doc Martens, making her look badass. She also wore what seemed to be a sports shirt underneath her leather jacket, juxtaposing with the red lipstick she was rocking again.

One of Izzy's friends looked over at me, probably wondering who the fuck I was. It was clear that he didn't like me, or maybe it was just the fact that as I walked toward Izzy, I ignored the rest of them.

Izzy and I seemed to be stuck in a trance as I reached her, oblivious to everything around us. Once I was standing in front of her, I leaned down, looking into her eyes and pressing a soft kiss on her lips, as I tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. The move was very uncharacteristic for me, but there was no stopping the reactions she evoked in me.

Cupping her face in my palm, I kissed her once more before whispering, "I missed you so much, beautiful girl."

Izzy chuckled softly, smiling as she gazed into my eyes. "I missed you, too," she admitted sheepishly.

"Let's get out of here, yeah?" I suggested.

Izzy frowned. "But you just got here; aren't you even going to go inside?"

I chuckled. "I only came here looking for you."

Izzy mildly blushed, looking down at her feet as she pushed her hair back. "I was really hoping I'd see you again, too."

Grinning, I said, "Well, then what are we waiting for, baby? Let's go!"

She looked up at me and then back to her friends, deliberating. As she did so, I looked over at them, noticing one of her friends shooting daggers at me with his eyes.

"What the fuck is his problem?" I seethed.

Izzy shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Riley's just being an over protective friend, Masen," she chuckled. "Besides, he's still kinda upset about me leaving with you last time without telling him anything."

"Then why don't you head over there and tell him that you're leaving with me again and that I'll drive you home later, huh?"

"Are you serious?" she asked incredulously. "You don't even know where I live."

"Where you live doesn't matter," I told her truthfully. "Just go and tell him. Please."

"Fine," she scoffed. "But for the record, you don't tell me what to do. I'm leaving with you because I want to—not because you're practically ordering me to do so, alright?"

"Alright," I replied, fully enjoying the feistiness that I'd missed.

Watching as she walked over to her friends, I stood by my car, patiently waiting for her return. Izzy seemed to be arguing about something with her friend Riley, and then suddenly, he was heading over to me.

"Who are you and what do you want with my friend?" he questioned.

Izzy reached us then, looking at her friend. "What the fuck's your problem?" she seethed.

I understood why she was upset, but I also understood where her friend was coming from. "It's okay, Izzy," I said. "Your friend wants to know what any good friend does." Looking over at Riley, I said, "My name is Masen, and I'm Izzy's new friend. As for my intentions with her, I'm still working on that."

Riley crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Izzy says that you're going to take her home, is that true?"

"It is," I reassured him, "although I don't know at what time that'll be."

"I don't care about the time; just make sure that she gets there safely. If you don't, I'll come back and look for you, and then we'll really have problems. See that guy over there?" he said, pointing back to the other guy that was in their group of friends. "That's my boyfriend, and he has four brothers that will help us kick your ass."

"This is fucking unbelievable," Izzy spat. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," Riley told her, "but that doesn't mean that I'm not gonna try to protect you."

"Are we done here?" I said pointedly. "Because I'm so ready to take off."

"Fine," Riley scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I'll see you later, Bella."

"Bella?" I questioned.

"Don't ask," Izzy told me, walking over to get into my car.

.

.

.

"Where are we going?" she asked, as we drove down the 101 freeway.

"I'm taking to my place."

"To your house?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Do you mind?"

Izzy shook her head. "No, but I'm just surprised that you'd take me there."

To be honest, I was surprised, too, but I wasn't going to admit that, so I didn't say anything.

After a couple of minutes, Izzy spoke up. "So, what have you been up to these past weeks?"

"Nothing much," I told her. "I've just been hanging out with my friend Mike as usual."

"I haven't done much, either," Izzy added. "Makenna and I have spent most of our time out at my dad's shop. Well, I've been working, but she's gone to visit me while I'm there."

Smirking, I told her, "I think Makenna has a crush on you."

"She does not!" Izzy exclaimed. "She's just a really great friend."

"Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart," I chuckled.

Izzy mumbled something unintelligible and then turned in her seat, facing me. "Do you really think that? Because Jake told me the same thing, but I didn't believe him."

I frowned, not liking the mention of another guy's name. "Who's Jake?"

"He's a really good friend of mine, but he's also Riley's boyfriend," she informed me.

Oh. I did not see that coming. At all.

What I also didn't see coming was the slight jealousy that spiked through me, but I wasn't going to focus on that.

Instead, I just said, "He's the other guy you were with?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "He's really sweet, and he's someone nice to talk to sometimes."

"Did you tell him about me?" I asked, as I merged into another lane that lead me to the exit.

Izzy looked down, saying, "No."

"Liar," I teased.

"Whatever," she scoffed. "Anyway, do you have any tapes in here? This radio station is awful."

I smirked. "I do, but I don't think you wanna listen to The Doors."

"Yeah, no," she said, scowling as I looked at her from my periphery. "Jim Morrison's voice does nothing to me. Robert Plant's on the other hand…"

"They're both good," I admitted. "They just have different styles."

"That's true," she conceded. "And it's kind of amazing how The Doors used real thunder sound effects in "Riders on the Storm," yet it doesn't compare to the greatness of Zeppelin's "Stairway to Heaven.""

We'd obviously have to agree to disagree when it came to music, because I knew that neither one of us would back down.

.

.

.

After we parked in front of my house, Izzy and I headed to the front entrance.

"Wow, Masen, not only do you live in Encino—one of the richest neighborhoods on this side of the valley—but you also have the nicest house on this block."

"My dad's a doctor," I said in way of explanation.

"No wonder," she said. "My dad could never afford something like this, which is why we live in West Covina—on the opposite side of your valley."

"Is that why you were so worried about me taking you home?"

"Yeah, it's about an hour drive from here."

"That's still not a problem," I told her, "but let's not worry about that now, okay?"

"Sure," she replied as I led her up the stairs to my room. When we reached it and entered, Izzy looked around noticing the records I had on one of the shelves. "This is nice."

"Thanks," I said before walking over and taking my Led Zeppelin II LP and putting it in my Sony record player.

"You have their records?" Izzy asked, amazed.

"Of course I do," I replied. "Just because they're not my favorites doesn't mean that I don't like them."

"Okay," she said, walking over to me and giving me a kiss as the music started playing.

Without another word, we began undressing each other, making our way to my bed. My body covered hers as I kissed her and made love to her throughout the night, proving that our chemistry had been real. Everything between us was intense, like a high that not even a drug could provide us, and just like a drug, I wanted to be consumed by her over and over.

.

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The night of my birthday party arrived, and everyone was scattered around the house, drinking and listening to music while I looked around for Izzy. She'd told me that she was going to the restroom, but I'd looked there without any luck. Having a hunch of where she might be, I headed to the garage.

I had been right; she was sitting inside the Camaro, looking embarrassing from being caught.

Izzy looked so good, wearing her Doc Marten boots with her fitted jeans again, although this time she paired them with a Led Zeppelin t-shirt and a navy blue blazer jacket. She was going for a semi-formal look given the occasion, but she still looked fierce with her wild hair and trademark red lipstick.

"So, this is where you've been hiding," I said, opening the door to my car.

"Yeah, it was getting a little crowded in there," she said, looking down.

"Sorry about that, baby. I seriously didn't expect too many people, but my friends invited lots of friends."

She shrugged, looking up at me. "That's fine, but I really did need some air."

"Okay, well, what do you say if we head back in there? I'm dying to introduce my girl to my friends, you know?" I smiled, watching her intently as I waited for her reaction.

I knew that we were moving a little fast. I still didn't know much about this girl that continues to be a mystery to me, but one thing is clear: I want her to be mine.

"Are you saying that I'm your girl, Masen?" she asked, incredulously.

"Absolutely, baby," I assured her. "I wanna make you my girl and I wanna give you my love… like Robert Plant would say."

Izzy smirked. "That was so lame, but I'll give you a point for knowing that."

"What about a kiss?" I asked. "Can my girl gimme a kiss?"

"More than just one," she replied before she gave me a soft peck. "I really like when you call me your girl."

"Well get used to it," I told her. "Because I'm gonna call you that for a long time. Maybe forever if I have my way."