by Mia Scott
"Alisha! Great, you're here!" he said enthusiastically, seemingly unaware of what he'd just walked in on. "Showtime, guys!"
And just as quickly as he'd appeared, he vanished through the door again.
"We should go," Alisha said, grateful for the interruption. "Can't keep the class of '89 waiting." She flashed a quick smile, her dimples winking. Grabbing her tambourine, she hurried after Mike, leaving Big in her wake.
"Man, Alisha, you're a killer!" Mike exclaimed, rubbing her shoulders playfully and making her laugh as they walked off stage between sets. "Seriously, it's so much fun having you in the band tonight."
Alisha turned and beamed a toothy grin at him. "Thanks, Mike. I'm having the best time." And she really was. Like she'd told Maggie and Russell, this was a night to be herself and have fun singing the songs she grew up with while entertaining an audience. The crowd was really into to the band, dancing and singing along. It was, simply, a blast.
She made a beeline for the restroom, mostly because she had to pee and partly because she wasn't quite ready to pick up the conversation she and Big had started before the show. Blowing out a breath, she stared at her reflection in the mirror and fluffed her hair. While wiping away non-existent smudges of eyeliner, she thought about the heated looks and knowing grins they'd exchanged during a few of the songs and her heart beat frantically. Performing with him was like some weird sort of aphrodisiac that had every nerve ending in her body sparking wildly. She knew she wouldn't be able to resist him much longer. She wasn't sure she even wanted to resist him anymore. Russell's advice was becoming more and more appealing with every passing second.
The door opened and two of the reunion attendees spilled inside, laughing as they stumbled towards the sink, bumping into Alisha in the process. She swallowed the pithy comment on her tongue and moved down to make room for the inebriated women.
"I'm telling you, that guitar player is the hottest thing I've ever seen," the blonde said, straightening her dress and adjusting her breasts for maximum cleavage. "Did I tell you that I was the one that booked them?"
The tall, auburn haired woman rolled her eyes and reapplied her lipstick. "Only about twenty times, Rebekah."
"You just know he likes it dirty. Seriously, he's sex on a stick." She practiced pouting in the mirror, shifting her boobs around again.
Alisha fought off the eye roll and wondered how that blonde planned to wrangle the beach balls she'd smuggled in her dress into submission as she headed for the stall.
"You're a shameless hussy, Beks. What about Robert? He's so hunky."
Rebekah scrunched up her nose. "He is, but after fifteen years I'm getting a little bored. Besides, I'm pretty sure he's screwing his secretary, so why can't I have my fun, too?" The women snorted and laughed conspiratorially before opening the door and walking out again.
Alisha washed her hands and with one last check of her appearance, she breezed out of the restroom, in desperate need of a beer before their second set.
She was waiting at the bar when she felt an ice-cold bottle on the small of her back, making her jump. Angling her head, she looked right into Big's smirking face. "Was that necessary?" she asked, her lips quirking crookedly.
He shrugged and offered her the bottle, bringing the other to his lips. "You looked hot," he drawled.
The double entendre wasn't lost on her. Her lips curved flirtatiously as she glanced up at him, her eyes dancing. "I just met your fan club in the bathroom," she told him casually.
His eyebrow cocked up and he grinned. "That's funny…I just met yours, too. Seems they like the way you shake your ass and grip the microphone when you sing." He was in complete agreement with them. He nearly blew a load on stage during I Love Rock and Roll when she dropped to her knees for a few bars and slithered up slowly, tossing that mass of curls back. "Pretty sure they were imagining you gripping something else." He chuckled when she rolled her eyes. "What's my fan club like?" he asked roguishly.
Alisha's lips twisted into a tart smirk. "Surgically enhanced and bottle blonde."
Big laughed dryly. "Jealous?"
She shook her head as she gulped from the bottle. "Blonde's not really my color and I swim just fine—no need for my own PFDs."
"Funny," he retorted.
"Thanks for the beer, Big," she grinned, shifting to walk away when he grabbed her wrist, halting her.
"Hey guys, there you are," Mike interrupted. "Break's over."
"Great, thanks, Mike," Alisha said, once again leaving Big behind.
Interrupted. Again. Big was seriously about to kick Mike's ass.
Big grabbed the microphone and spoke into it. "Time for our last song. Thanks for being such a great crowd…we've had a lot of fun tonight and we hope you did, too. Give it up for James on sticks, Mike on guitar and keys, Matt on bass. And a special thanks to the hot and talented Alisha for making us sound better than we normally do," he grinned, slanting a look in her direction as the crowd boisterously applauded. She shot a sly smile back at him, which broke into a wide grin as their eyes held. Goddammit! Singing with her was really turning him the fuck on. Her outfit and heated glances weren't helping.
James counted off with his drumsticks and Big went into the guitar intro for Looking for a Good Time.
Girl you're beautiful
You're bout near perfect
But I bet somebody's already told you that
Name your poison
Name your passion
Cause a boy like me just couldn't help but ask
Keep on talking to me baby
I'm hanging on your every word
Keep those drinks a coming maybe
We'll both get what we deserve
How bout baby
We make a promise
To not promise anything more than one night
Complicated situations
Only get worse in the morning light
Hey I'm just lookin' for a good time
Put in a long hard week doing this 9 to 5
And you're just the girl to get that off my mind
You shouldn't've worn that dress
You shouldn't dance like that
You got this little heart of mine in overdrive
I sure love this conversation
The band is good, the music's loud
But would you get the wrong impression
If I called us a cab right now
Aw, yeah!
How bout baby
We make a promise
To not promise anything more than one night
Complicated situations
Only get worse in the morning light
Hey I'm just lookin' for a good time
Go ahead and lie to me and pull me close
Tell me that you love me even if you don't
The rule is don't you ever even talk about forever
But you never say never in life
How bout baby
We make a promise
To not promise anything more than one night
Complicated situations
Only get worse in the morning light
Hey I'm just lookin' for a good time
Hey, I'm just lookin' for a good time
Alisha momentarily took in the applause, so glad she'd given in and agreed to perform with Fire Extinguishers, before waving to the crowd and walking backstage. She tried to quell the nervous anticipation that coursed through her veins and end the tug of war going on in her brain where Big was concerned. It was making her edgy. Russell's statement about how to take said edge off rang loudly in her ears again. Ugh!
"Alisha," Matt greeted when he strolled backstage. "Girl, you can sing! Any time you want to sing with the band, please feel free."
"That really was our best show yet," Mike agreed, walking in right behind his band mate.
"Aw, thanks, men—I had a fantastic time," Alisha said, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. "I'm going out to the bar for a drink; do you guys want to come?"
"Dam
n, I would, but I'm on at 7:00am tomorrow," Mike said.
"Yeah, me, too," Matt grumbled, packing up his bass. "Next time though."
"Sounds good," Alisha nodded and placed her tambourine back into her bag. Running a hand over her red coat, she went back and forth about whether or not to put it on and flee or hang back. The smart decision would've found her bundled up against the cold and in a cab by now, yet she was moving slowly around the room, rooting through her bag for nothing in particular. Mike and Matt left as James lumbered into the room.
"Hey, Lisha," James called.
"Hey, James," she answered, smiling over her shoulder, seeing him lugging his drums along.
"I'm heading out to meet Maggie. Wanna come?"
Alisha shook her head. "That's sweet of you, but I don't feel like being a third wheel. You two have fun and tell her I'll call her tomorrow."
"Alright," James said affably. "You were really great tonight—thanks again for doing this."
"My pleasure," she assured him, waving goodbye. She heard a 'See ya, asshole' in the hallway and swallowed thickly seconds before Big rounded the corner and swaggered into the room.
And then there were two.
"Sup, Shorty?" he leered, strolling slowly over to his stuff. He plopped down into the chair and began packing up his guitars.
"Hi," she replied, willing her voice to remain calm despite her erratic pulse.
She watched appreciatively as the muscles in his arms flexed and rippled beneath the material of his faded t-shirt. Enough. It had been far too long since she'd had the weight of man pressing down on her and she'd had enough. Turning, she tugged on her coat and grabbed her bag. With a shake of her hair, she walked over and stood in front of him, waiting until he lifted his eyes to her.
Big saw her boots and the hem of her red coat before him and he slowly lifted his head, arching a questioning brow as he looked directly into hooded brown eyes. A smirk toyed with his lips when a smile curved seductively over hers.
"Wanna get out of here?" she asked, wrapping her white scarf around her neck, holding his gaze.
Oh, fuck yes! He Rosemary to his feet and smirked wickedly down at her. "What'd you have in mind, Alisha?" he asked roguishly. He wanted to hear her say it.
Alisha laughed softly, glancing down at the floor quickly before lifting wanton eyes back to his. "This dance we've been doing? It's been fun, but I can't take it anymore. I really need to get your hands on me or I'm going to lose my mind." She angled her head slightly, a kittenish smile on her lips. "I'd rather lose my mind with them on me—it's more fun that way."
Holy shit. Big growled low in the back of his throat as her words registered in his brain, sending a powerful punch of unadulterated lust straight into his gut. He moved to pounce and her hand pushed against his chest in warning, making him snarl. If she was just fucking with him he was going to light himself on fire…and maybe toss her out into the middle of traffic. That shit was not kosher.
"Not here," she breathed, curling her fingers into his shirt.
He picked up his coat and shrugged into it. She already had bedroom eyes going on and…goddamn she was sexy. Oh, fuck this. He grabbed her shoulders and hauled her up against him, crushing his lips heatedly against hers.
She staggered on her tiptoes, her hands grasping the front of his coat to keep from melting down into a puddle on the floor when his tongue plundered her mouth and curled expertly around hers. God, why—why had she been denying this? Her blood pounded, and she felt hot and tingly all over. This had to stop so they could get the hell out of there. She moaned softly and felt his fingers dig into her arms as he sucked not so gently on her bottom lip, releasing it with a pop. Her feet fell flat on the floor when he loosened his grip on her, their breaths coming out in gasps.
Big watched her long lashes flutter until pools of chocolate brown gazed fuzzily up at him. He dropped his head until his lips were hot on her ear. "Alisha," he murmured darkly, feeling her tremble against him, "I'm going to fuck you until you can't move." His tongue darted out of his mouth and traced the shell of her ear, smiling devilishly when she trembled even harder.
The wicked promise and swirling tongue around her ear made her eyes roll back into her head. "Can't wait. Let's go," she groaned, pushing him back and heading for the door.
He grabbed his two guitar cases and followed her out the back entrance onto the dimly lit sidewalk.
Lifting two fingers to her mouth, she whistled for an approaching cab that pulled to a screeching halt at the curb.
Big reached for the door handle and cast his eyes back towards her. "You sure about this?" he asked gruffly. "'Cause if you're not, tell me now." He didn't know where this bout of conscience materialized from, but he prayed like hell she wasn't about to change her mind. There weren't enough cold showers in the world.
Alisha turned to face him fully, her eyes holding his. "I'm sure," she smirked impishly. "So, shut up, and get in the damn cab." The smile he gave her in return could tempt the devil, she decided, turning and opening the door. Her heart hammered loudly as he put his guitars into the car first and slid in next, rattling off his address to the driver. His hand snaked around her wrist and pulled her fluidly down beside him and she shut the door soundly. The cab pulled out into moving traffic.
This was really happening.
The cab ride, in reality, was rather short, but to Big it felt like a fucking eternity. As it turned out, Alisha Larrington was a little (a lot) hands-y on the ride to his place and tried to tease him within an inch of his goddamned life. And okay, so maybe he'd started it by tangling a hand in her hair and whispering all the things he wanted to do to her once they got to his apartment. She'd shot him a warning look, which he didn't take seriously. In his defense, she negated the look entirely by mewling at one of his suggestions and pressing her head against his fingers while biting her lower lip. (Hot as fuck, in case you were wondering.) He was dangerously close to embarrassing himself like a teenager and ruining his reputation and any chance to fulfill his promise to her, when he tossed her hand away and pinned her against the door, her eyes rounding in shock, a cunning smile stretching slowly across her face. "I'm gonna pay you back for this," he mumbled.
His eyes sparkled deviously in the passing streetlights as they stared into her hers. She saw the muscles in his jaw twitch again and bit back the moan in her throat from how gorgeous and sexy he looked at that moment. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth again and watched his eyes fall to her mouth, heard his sharp intake of breath and the muttered oath pass his lips. "I hope that you do, Big," she murmured.
Alisha Larrington was a seductive vixen. He felt like he was on the verge of winning the sexual lottery. Thanking every higher power when the cab slowed to a stop, he tossed some bills at the driver and pulled Alisha away from the door. She nipped at his earlobe and whispered Thank God. With a tempting smile, she opened the door and slipped agilely out of the cab.
He followed suit and hitched the straps of his guitar cases up on his shoulder as the cab drove away. Striding purposefully towards the door of his building, he fished his keys from his pocket and held the door open. Alisha ducked under his arm and into the dim lobby.
Her heart was about to pound out of her chest. With dark eyes, she looked up at him and said, "Lead the way."
Chapter 11
Alisha pressed back against the door, his body caging hers as he reached behind her to undo the locks. His heated eyes were intense on hers, and went heavy-lidded when her fingers skittered along his jaw and down the strong curve of his neck. She dropped her hand between them and slowly worked the buttons of her coat, letting it fall open. Her eyes danced devilishly when his hungrily combed down the length of her body.
Big put the key into another lock and parted the fabric of her coat, running a hand over the planes of her taut stomach, smirking when she quivered beneath his touch. He moved to undo the final lock when her tiny hand began stroking his arousal through his jeans. When he fumbled the k
eys, she let out a low, sexy laugh that had him inhaling a sharp breath. "You're such a fucking tease, Alisha," he rasped, making her lips curve slowly. Finally managing to get the goddamn door open, he pushed her back into his apartment and kicked the door closed behind them with a resounding slam as he set his guitars down and shed his jacket as quickly as possible.
He rounded, tugging her coat off her shoulders and letting it fall carelessly to the ground as he pressed her back roughly against the door. She grabbed the sides of his face and pulled his mouth down to hers in a greedy, searing kiss. His hands roamed possessively down her body while they devoured each other's mouths. The throaty groan that passed her lips when his hands settled firmly on her ass and lifted her off the ground was like dousing a five-alarm fire with rosemary.
To hell with a lot of foreplay, he thought, when she changed angles and deepened the kiss, her fingers digging desperately into his shoulders as her long legs wrapped tightly around his waist. They'd had a fucking month of that with all of their dancing around one another. He needed to bury his dick inside her and give them both release like a junkie needed a rush. But first he wanted just a little more of her mouth, because Christ she could kiss. He pinned her against the door with his hips, letting his hands fist wildly in her hair as he assaulted her lips.
Alisha knew that if she died tonight, this is the way she wanted to go. Her heart hammered loudly in her ears as his tongue slid down her throat and over her collarbone. His hand followed a similar path, before sneaking into her vest to palm her lace covered breasts, pinching and pulling her nipples into rock hard peaks. Arching from the exquisite sensation, she felt his length twitch between her thighs even through all that denim between them. He was hard as steel, and she wanted him inside of her. Immediately. "God, Big," she breathed, pulling at his t-shirt. "I want you." She felt his wicked smile against her throat and she unwrapped her legs from his waist, wriggling down until her feet hit the floor.