Addict Chick: Sex, Drugs & Rock ‘N’ Roll

By Amanda Meredith

Addict Chick: Sex, Drugs & Rock ‘N’ Roll is brutally honest, sexually graphic, and completely real. At 34, Amanda Meredith had it all - A successful career, a home, a child, and everything that should have made her happy. She was also crazy in love; his name was Cage, and their love would become her first addiction—but not her last. Some would say that love destroyed her, but what she let ravage her mind, body, and soul had nothing to do with love and everything to do with a deep-seated need to destroy herself.

With the prick of a needle, and a shot of methamphetamine, she lost everything- her child, her career, and she lost Cage. Her story is not for the faint of heart.

Addict Chick: Sex, Drugs & Rock ‘N’ Roll is her heartbreak, her sorrow, and the story of how she fought like hell to save herself, with a little help from the Man above.

In this memoir, one woman proves that no matter who you are, and no matter how far you have fallen, nobody is beyond redemption.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Jan 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483444758

Book preview

Fall

ADDICT

CHICK

SEX, DRUGS &

Rock ’N’ Roll

Amanda Meredith

Copyright © 2016 Amanda Meredith.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4476-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4474-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-4475-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016900263

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 1/13/2016

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Eight

Chapter Thirty Nine

Chapter Forty

Epilogue

This book is

dedicated to:

My son, Mason Meredith

You are the best thing I have ever done. No one else will ever know the strength of my love for you. After all, you’re the only one who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside. Thanks for hanging out with me this summer while I finished the book, I love you!

My mother, Robin Smith

Thank you for never giving up on me, fighting for me, and loving me when I couldn’t love myself. You’re the best mama ever!

To the still suffering addict

We do recover

CHAPTER ONE

The Beginning

I loved him so much that I would have died for him. And then I did.

He was beautiful, the sexiest man I had ever met. I mean, the first second I saw him I just wanted to rip my clothes off and beg him to take me to bed. His bad boy charisma dripped off his sexy, hard body. His hair was golden brown and cut short to his head. His green eyes were clear and could change colors based on his mood. They were soft when he was happy, but could flash green fire when he was pissed. His hands were big and rough, exactly the way a man’s hands should be. And when he touched my body with them, nothing in the world ever felt better. He was tall, well over six feet. His body was ripped, with sinewy muscles packed onto his perfect frame. Really, he had muscles in places that I didn’t even know that they existed. He was so strong that he could pick me up and toss me into the air like I was a doll. His sexy crooked smile framed perfect white teeth, and could take me from sad, to blissfully happy, instantly. Sometimes he would bite his lower lip and it would transform his menacing exterior into that of a sweet and vulnerable boy. But he wasn’t a boy; he was all man, and a walking wet dream. He even had the requisite tattoos that I had requested in my online ad and they just added to the bad boy image he presented to the world.

You see, the reason we were meeting was because I had placed an ad online looking for a hot, young guy to have a good time with. I was 33, which happens to be my favorite number and I wanted to have a great year. I was recently divorced and worked all the time. I had a very successful career that I had been building for over twelve years, and I worked a hundred hours a week without exception. But success comes at a price in Corporate America. I had a hard time finding a balance between work and life and really had no personal life at all. I was happy, but I was also horny and had a hard time meeting men because I never left the office. My staff thought I was acting bitchy and I knew it was because I needed to get laid.

Since I tend to be resourceful, I had this brilliant idea to look for a bed-mate on one of those new online iPhone apps. Don’t judge, most of you have indulged this way. My personal profile read: I’m looking for a bad boy, with a good body and tattoos. I only date white men and I don’t care if that makes me a bitch. I have a job and a car, so I don’t care if you have one. I’m not looking for a relationship, just a good time. Hit me up. I got no shortage of messages of course. I had fun looking through all the responses. The dick pics were instantly deleted because, the one I was looking for would be hot enough without feeling the need to lead with that head. I would rush home from work, and spend hours poring over the profiles on the site. I looked at the photos and even read the descriptions. I was certain that I would know when I found the perfect guy for what I was looking to do. I only planned on doing this once, and didn’t have any interest in actually dating these men.

I should mention that I was not on drugs at this point of my life. I was anti-drug all the way. I barely even drank alcohol. Coming from a family of drug addicts, including my father and a brother who died of a heroin overdose; I hated drugs in all forms! I had a difficult time understanding why anybody would even consider taking drugs. And from my experience, people that got drunk just ended up looking like idiots. No, I didn’t relish the idea of losing control of myself in social situations.

The second I saw his profile, I knew that he was the one. His pictures made my heart pound. I’m not sure if it was lack of interest or arrogance, but his description was blank except for the mandatory fields of height, weight, and hair and eye color. But his profile picture showed him reflected in his bathroom mirror, and he was gorgeous. And shirtless. With low slung jeans resting on his perfect hips. He even had that sexy V thing going on. You know, the one that looks like a trail pointed down to what you can only imagine to be the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? I quickly pounded out a message and sent it. And every day for a week I would anxiously be waiting for his reply. And every day there would be none. I stopped looking at other profiles, because I wanted only him. I couldn’t stop looking at his photos, and they made me wet every time I did.

Finally, after seven long and excruciating days, I received a reply from him. I was breathless with anticipation as I opened the message. Only one word, Hey. I was a little disappointed because he didn’t seem all that impressed with me. I had of course posted my most flattering photos, and my description had seemed alluring and sexy when I had written it. So, his indifference actually irritated me a little. I sent a request for a live chat because I didn’t want to wait another week for him to respond to a message. He accepted the invite and I’ll never forget the spike of excitement that flooded my body when that little screen opened on my phone. I felt a moment of panic, and wasn’t sure what to say. My first point of contact was actually quite brilliant. Brilliant if I was a high school cheerleader maybe.

HI! I said. Yes, all in capital letters like I was screaming at him.

LOL, hi back, was his reply.

I want to have sex with you. I replied in true low self-esteem form. I’m not sure what I had been thinking, but here is an honest truth; women use sex to get love. Another honest truth? I can say I just wanted sex, but never, not sober, not on drugs, have I ever had sex without having a small part of me hope that it would turn into love. What all women want; the fucking fairy tale.

Yes, as these things often do, my story starts with love and will hopefully end there too.

His name was Cage and I loved him like the wind.

CHAPTER TWO

The Beginning

Early on in our relationship, Cage began to call me his Wind. He said that when the wind raged, he could feel me, like I surrounded him. I was strong and powerful like the wind and it brought him peace to feel it. Every time I feel the sensation of air move across my skin, I think of him. I imagine it will probably always be the same for him. Sometimes in the early spring, when the air is still cool from winter, I’ll drive really fast with the windows down so I can feel the wind rush into my car and take my breath away. It’s in those moments I can still remember the wildly exciting and intense first months of falling in love with him. It was exhilarating and heady; it was madness.

June 6, 2011. The original premise of the night was that I would come to his apartment and we would have a night of unadulterated, dirty, hot sex. Then I would leave. It’s what I had requested, but as the day came closer, I had a hard time with being a straight whore. So I covered the intent with the guise of a concert first. Who doesn’t want front row seats to the Deftones? We both loved rock music and my ego wanted to be seen in public with him. He had agreed, and I was on my way to pick him up. I stopped by the pharmacy to purchase condoms. As I browsed the aisle, I started to freak out a little. What brand should I buy? Hell, what size or kind should I buy? Deciding to cover all my bases, I spent $100 bucks and bought one of each kind. I can only imagine what the pharmacist was thinking as I checked out.

I had spent hours shopping for the perfect outfit. I finally decided on white shorts because they set off the perfect tan I had been working on in the tanning booth. I wore an emerald green blouse that hung low off my right shoulder. Nude stilettos, with the open toes showcasing my cute pink pedicure completed my outfit. I may have been lacking in a few areas of my appearance, but my hair was beautiful. Long, golden brown, and silky straight. I never colored it, and it matched my gold cat eyes perfectly. Beneath my outfit, I wore the latest Victoria Secret bra and panties set. Black, lacy, and a string thong that settled right between my tight ass cheeks.

As I got closer to his apartment, butterflies began to flutter around in my chest. I was so nervous that I almost turned around and headed home. So many doubts and insecure thoughts flooded my mind. What if I got there, he took one look at me, and told me to leave? I mean, who was I kidding? This guy could have any chick he wanted, and I was average at best. I pulled my car over to the curb in front of his complex and did a final check in the mirror. I stared back at myself and decided that I would hate myself if I didn’t at least try. So I collected a little courage, and drove through the gates of his apartment.

I slowly wound around towards the back and parked my car. My nervousness had grown to the point that I was almost paralyzed with terror. My heart was pounding, and my hands were clammy with sweat. I looked at the clock, and knew I had to get out of my car right then or I would be late. And I hated to be late for anything, and definitely didn’t want to be late for my date with destiny. I jumped out of my car before I could change my mind and as I cleared the back of my car, I stopped in my tracks.

Cage was standing at the foot of the stairs that led back up to his apartment. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a magazine. He was wearing a white wife beater, and jeans with no shoes. He was even hotter in person than he had been in his pictures. If I had been nervous before, now I was shaking. I couldn’t even form a cohesive thought in my mind. All I could do was stare. And then I felt my panties get wet.

Yep, I knew in that second he was the kind of man I would die for.

CHAPTER THREE

The Beginning

You will be shocked to know that on the way to the concert, I was stunned into silence. Normally, I can’t keep my mouth shut. But Cage had that ‘thing,’ you know what I mean? He had the kind of charisma that spoke without saying a word. The kind of man who chicks wanted and men wanted to be. Sexy as fuck and I could not seem to be able to articulate even a simple, intelligent thought. I began to panic inside my head, trying to think of something clever to say. I wanted to impress him with my intelligence, or at least start a conversation with some witty anecdote. But my mind was drawing a blank and just as I was about to blurt out something about the weather, Cage spoke, Relax baby girl.

And just like that, the tension drained from my body and I took a deep breath. From that first moment, the stage was set for our relationship. He drew me out of my stupor and made me laugh. Cage reached for my radio and turned it on, grabbed my hand and entwined his fingers with mine. We talked and rocked out to music. It was exciting and the first time in my adult life that I was terrified of a man. His power over me scared the shit out of me. Call it my woman’s intuition or gut instinct, but I knew this man was going to change my life. I was going to be consumed by him and there wasn’t going to be anything I could do to stop it. And I wouldn’t have even tried if I could have.

We arrived at the venue and Cage immediately came around the car and reached for my hand. The adrenaline spike I got from the knowledge that this man would be walking beside me, like I belonged to him, was a rush I will never forget. I felt like I was living in a fantasy that I had daydreamed inside my head. But I could feel the thick Texas air around me, taste the gum in my mouth, and smell the delicious cologne that Cage wore. This wasn’t a dream, this was really happening, and it was happening to me! We walked up the stairs to the huge glass encased front doors, and I felt anxiety wash over me. Literally every single chick we passed broke their necks looking at him. The funny thing was, He never looked back. Not once. It would come to be one of the most intoxicating things about being with him. He never looked at other women. Not even when we were having sex with one together. Yeah, you read that correctly. But it was also the reason so many women went after him. It’s sexy as hell to see a man who is so blatantly down for his chick.

We wandered around inside, checking things out. Well, Cage was looking at all the merchandise, but I couldn’t stop staring at him. His side profile was an example of sexy perfection. His jaw line was cut deep, strong and powerful. His high cheekbones were sharp and I just wanted to lean over, stand on my tippy toes and lick my way across them. He was wearing a black hat backwards, and it framed his face like a masterpiece. He was beautiful, and my chest nearly burst open with the pride I was feeling of being there with him.

A horn blew and all the monitors started flashing. The show was about to start! We made our way to our seats, right in the front row. I could feel Cage’s excitement as the lights went down and the Deftones started playing. This man loved the thrill and rush of live concerts just as much as I did, and that made me extremely happy. I nearly busted out my phone to see what tickets I might be able to get for the next night. Yes, concerts would soon become an addiction for us both. Rock shows nearly every single weekend. But there are far worse addictions in life, as I would soon come to learn.

As the band played on, the sounds moved over us and the pulse of the music was titillating. We screamed, sang, laughed and danced like nobody else was there. It was just Cage and I, and that was all that mattered. I could feel the sweat dripping off my temple, and Cage leaned over and wiped it away. He smiled down at me our eyes met and held. I instinctively wanted to look away, but Cage wouldn’t let me. His power over me was absolute.

With our eyes still connected, one of my favorite songs began to play, Change. As it was climbing to a crescendo, his gaze never leaving mine, Cage reached for me and picked me up! Plucked me right up off the ground like I was a tiny bird. I wrapped my legs around his body and locked my ankles behind his back. His hands left my hips and reached for my hair, pulling my shocked face down to his. I felt the distance between us disappear, and then his mouth was on mine. Kissing me, claiming me, and changing me. It was the kind of kiss that you see in movies. His tongue slid past my lips and set off a tingle that rushed straight to my clit. I moaned into his mouth. It was like electricity, my body shivered and my nipples got hard. It was the stuff chicks dream of and chase their entire lives trying to find. I got lost in the moment and all the control I may of once had, fled my body. And I let it go.

I probably should have at least tried to control the heat that was beating between my legs. Because just when the moment couldn’t have gotten any more perfect, the unthinkable happened. Once it had started, there was nothing I could do to stop it. My vagina clearly was acting on its own will, because the culmination of all my senses failed to detect the disaster that was about to happen.

I began to cum so hard that it squirted right through my panties and shorts, onto his shirt. For real. I prayed for the floor to open up so I could fall in and disappear from sight. But, of course, I’m not the kind of girl who generally gets that lucky. I wanted to die. But I wouldn’t be granted even that escape.

Cage lifted me away from him and set me down on the ground. His eyes followed my gaze to the spreading wet spot on his shirt. It took him a moment to figure out what happened, but of course he did. His surprised eyes flew up to meet mine and he began to laugh. He was delighted, and I was mortified.

I’ll buy you a new shirt right now! I blurted out. Then I did something that felt so natural; I buried my face into his chest and he wrapped his solid arms around me, pulling me close to his heart. I could feel his body shaking with laughter, but I was suddenly not embarrassed at all. I felt protected from anything and everything. I would do this often during the course of our relationship. Whenever I was scared, or freaking out, I would hide in his arms with my eyes closed and my face pressed against his chest. It was my way of running away from a situation and hiding. Or if something especially horrific was happening and Cage didn’t want me to see it, he would press my face into his body. I guess I thought nobody could see me, but even if they did, Cage was there to protect me and keep me safe.

He scooped me up and said, I’m taking you home to bed, and carried me out of there. I wiggled out of his arms in the lobby and ran to the merchandise stand to buy him a shirt. It would become a tradition for us; for every concert we went to, and there were many, we would get a tour concert shirt that would list the date and place we had seen the show.

He tossed the shirt across his shoulder, and swung me back up into his arms. He carried me out the doors, down the stairs and back the way we had come. Like I said, it was a fairy tale. On the way home, every time I apologized for making a mess, he would counter with things like, that was the sexiest thing that has ever happened to me, I can’t wait to get you in my bed and make you cum all over my dick, I’m going to have you on your knees while I fuck your sweet lil’ mouth and then Cage said, I’m going to make you never want another man inside of you, you’re mine! YIKES!

I finally just shut my mouth and let his words, a la Penthouse Letters travel from his mouth straight to the spot between my legs, to the tips of my fingers, to the end of my already curling toes, and to the nipples that were so hard they could cut a diamond.

This was OK, right? I was a grown ass woman, single, who took care of herself and who had searched a man out for this very purpose. People do this all the time, right? It wasn’t the sex I was suddenly balking at, it was the fact that I was afraid if I slept with him that would really be it. A classic one night stand. And that suddenly had me thinking about the article I had just read that said, If you want a relationship with a man, DO NOT, repeat, DO NOT, sleep with him on the first date. Fuck my life!

CHAPTER FOUR

The Present