Serenade Me: A Rockstar Romance (Rock Chamber Boys Book 3)

by Daisy Allen

  “Whoa, man.” Marius steps in before I can step in. “We were just downstairs talking to Hailey. She had some fan mail for give to Anca.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you, Marius. My little sister needs to learn some better work ethics if she wants to make it in this industry. It’s not all stars and candy.”

  “Hey…” Marius cuts in again, and I stop him with a hand on his chest. It’s hard, as tense as I’m feeling.

  “It’s ok,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm, before turning back to address my brother. “Fine. Sorry I’m 5 minutes late. What are we doing now?”

  “If you’d been here...”

  I cut him off. “You’re wasting time lecturing me, just tell us what we’re supposed to be doing now.”

  “Get your gear ready. They’re taking it down to the stage in an hour,” he snaps at me.

  “Fine. Done. Come on, Marius.” I pull on his shirt, but he doesn’t budge. He’s locked in a stare battle with my brother.

  “Marius!” I raise my voice to get his attention, and he sighs and relents, and follows me to our instruments.

  “That was bullshit, Anca,” he whispers when we’re out of Jez’s earshot.

  “I know, he’s just… he’s just processing. Ignore it.” I tell him, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. My whole life I’ve been the apple of my brother’s eye. Now I’m the thorn that causes him pain.

  Marius turns to where Jez is holding up his cello, running his fingers over it, checking every inch of it, before turning back to me.

  “But he can’t speak to you like that, Anca, brother or not. I’m not going to tolerate him being rude to you, you know that, right?”

  The butterflies in my stomach tell me without words how much his words mean to me.

  “Funny, you should say that. Because I recall someone once telling me my conversation skills couldn’t keep a chair stimulated.” I say, trying to lighten the mood, giving him a little nudge with my foot and winking at him.

  The look on his face is priceless as he moans at the memory and palms his face. “Don’t remind me! I was trying to be so clever.”

  “And you were. You were a surprise.”

  “As are you, babe. Every second.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Marius

  The free concert on the beach is a fucking success.

  The team worked all afternoon to make sure anyone who had a ticket to the original concert would get priority entrance, a free drink and some weird glow stick to wave – Anca’s idea, one that turns out to create the fun, carefree atmosphere we’re been hoping for.

  Thousands of people line the beach and surround the makeshift stage we’ve set up on the esplanade and by the first signs of sunset, local musicians are taking their turn warming up the audience.

  I can’t help getting caught up in it all. The sense of spontaneity, community. We’ve played the big stadiums and fancy halls, but this… this had a nostalgic, rustic feel that we haven’t had since the early years of our performing.

  From the first moment the stage lights up at the beginning of our set, I can’t wipe the smile off my face.

  We try out a new opening, with Seb taking the lead, with a dark, deep, somber rendition of Cedric Vermua’s Dark Cello Lullaby. The heavy, requiem feel of the piece coupled with the unearthly nature of Sebastian’s playing is magical. I watch as the music washes over the awed faces lit by the setting sun and rising moon. And just as they’re settling into the darkness of the piece, Jez joins in with a slow but insistent bass beat, and before you can pick it, the music slowly morphs into a driving pop beat. Brad gives me a wink and counts us down as we join in just as the chorus breaks. And the crowd raises their voices as they recognize the song.

  “You came in like a wreeeeeeeeeeeecking ballllllllllll!” Thousands of voices sing, playing tribute to Ms. Cyrus. It’s a lesson in pop euphoria. The four of us pour ourselves completely into the performance, and it shows. By the end of the first song, I can already see Brad shaking his head and a spray of sweat creating a halo around his head.

  We play another three songs, before the flurry backstage reminds me that it’s time for Anca’s performance.

  As the stage hands busy themselves with setting Anca’s harp and stool up, I step to the front of the stage and take the microphone from Sebastian. He’s a little surprised but steps back and gives me a pat on the shoulder.

  I look out into the crowd, and the focus of thousands and thousands of eyes on me brings on the beginning moments of anxiety, my own stage fright coming back to haunt me. But I bite it back. This is Anca’s moment. And I’m going to make sure she knows that I, and this crowd, is behind her.

  “Bonsoir, tout le monde! Ça va?!?!!??!” The crowd reply with a wave of screams and shouts. I wave to them, raising both my arms in the air.

  “You guys are in for a TREAT tonight! As you’ve probably heard, on our tour we have a VERY special guest star, and that is the one and only, brightest new star in the music world, Ms. ANCA PETRESCU!!! GIVE IT UP FOR ANCA!!!”

  A wall of sound crashes onto the stage from the audience as they yell and scream and whistle as Anca walks onto the stage. She’s dressed in a short, white lace dress with long, kimono sleeves. With the backlight washing over her silhouette as she approaches the harp, she looks like an angel. She doesn’t look at me, or the crowd, but settles quickly and quietly onto her stool. I know she’s trying to block it all out, and I hope it’s my voice she’s hearing in her head, reminding her to breathe.

  But now, I want her to hear my voice, and those of a thousand adoring fans, reminding her to enjoy it all to.

  “I CAN’T HEAR YOU! One more time! GIVE IT UP FOR ANCA!!!!!”

  The crowd obey and the cheers are more deafening than ever. So much so, I notice her tilt her head to the side, and just for a moment, let her gaze wash over the crowd. There’s a slight rise of the sides of her mouth and she lifts her hands to her harp. The cheers subside instantly. A pin falling, a single breath, a cracked smile, can all be heard in the silence.

  And then she plays.

  She plays like I’ve never heard her perform before. It’s sweet, and it’s light and it’s stunningly gorgeous. But most of all, it’s playful. And it’s fun.

  She’s having fun.

  I’ve heard her play like the world is ending, and I’ve heard her play like her heart is breaking. Like the storm clouds looming on the horizon, and like the halo of dark around the full moon. But this is different. This is like the first breath of spring, when you open the shutters and the sun lights up corners of your house and heart that have been dormant for a long, hard, winter.

  I can’t turn away, I’m riveted to my spot on the stage, watching her fingers dance over the strings, drawing the corners of her mouth wider and higher up her face than I’ve seen them in the time we’ve been together.

  When I can’t ignore the building sound from the crowd any longer, I tear my eyes away from her and look out into the audience. And they’ve come alive. Waving their lights and alighted phone screens in the air along to her music, dancing in unison to the melody, her happiness infectious.

  And it’s not until we’re nearing the final chorus do I realize the tune, it’s Beautiful by Christina Aguilera.

  How fitting, I think, as the lyrics run in my head.

  Now that I know her story, I can’t help but fall even more for her than I have.

  And it’s there, in front of ten thousand screaming fans that I realize, there’s no more room to fall.

  I’m there.

  In love.

  Then, like a slow motion montage, I see the crowd’s arms rise in unison, and in the corner of my eye, she jumps from the stool and runs into arms I didn’t even realize I was holding open for her.

  And I spin her, spin her so long, we forget to be dizzy, and simply lose ourselves in a kiss, as the whole world around up cheers.

  The whole world that is, but one.

  ***

  “Oh my
god! Did you hear the crowd? They loved it!” She screams excitedly at me as I try to lead her off the stage after our set is done.

  “It was a little hard to miss, babe.”

  “Oh my god, it was for me!”

  I laugh, before I mean to. Because now I understand, this is all new to her. I take her by the shoulders and force her to look at me.

  “Yes, it was for you. It was ALL for you, you were the only one on stage playing. And it was YOUR PLAYING that they were going crazy for. Why? Because you are a freaking star… and don’t you ever let anyone, ANYONE ever tell you otherwise.”

  She doesn’t look away, but for a split second a see a shadow cross her face, before it’s replaced by a look of exuberation. “DAMN. FUCKING. STRAIGHT. I’m a star!” She throws her arms out and yells to no one in particular.

  “You bet your as-, er, HARP you are!” Brad calls out, running towards us. “You were amazing, Anca. Really. There was something different about tonight.”

  “She was happy.” We all turn to see Jez standing there, his hands deep in his pockets, his eyes fixed on Anca.

  There’s something in that revelation, and it coming from him that makes us all stand silent for a moment. Then she pulls away from me and walks over to her brother, pulling him into a hug. I try to look away, wanting to give them a private moment, but I can’t help it. There’s something in the tender way he holds her, her cheek tight against his chest, his resting on her shoulder, that touches me. And makes me regret all the hurt that we’ve caused him.

  They pull away, and smile at each other for a moment.

  “I am happy, Jezzy.”

  “I can see that, Anca. I can. Whether I want to admit to the reason or not, the fact is, you are.”

  She steps away from him and back to me, slipping her hand into mine. There’s a tensing of his jaw, but that’s all.

  He nods to me, and I can just barely hear the words under his breath, “Take care of her.”

  I nod back, and he turns on his heels and walks away.

  “Well! Um… okay then!” Brad speaks, to break the ice. “So… who’s turn is it to shout for drinks?”

  “I’ll pay!” pipes up a little voice, and we all spin to see Ben walking up to us hand in hand with his Mom.

  “Deal!” Brad laughs as he picks Ben up into his arms.

  “Mom? Can I borrow some money?” Ben yells to his mom who rolls her eyes and throws her hands up in the air.

  “Why don’t you ask Brad? He’s the millionaire!” Emily suggests, practically.

  “Well, last time I asked him to buy me a toy truck, he said he needs to save his money, so there’s something for me to inherit,” Ben shoots back, his voice serious as Brad tries to hide his smile behind the little boy’s back.

  We all laugh, perfectly able to imagine Brad telling him just that. In the lightness of the moment, I feel Anca lean against me and sigh. For the moment at least, it seems Jez has given his approval, and that might just have to do for now.

  ***

  The next week rushes by in a daze. Four cities and concerts in as many days, we spend most of it either passed out on the tour bus, on stage, or in fast food restaurants trying to get enough sustenance for the next day.

  Anca and I try to steal as much time alone as we can, but the moments are few and very far between. It’s harder still trying not to rub our time together in Jez’s face, who has mostly remained civil, if not avoiding us both when he can.

  The only time we know we are guaranteed some moments alone is that half hour carved out before our performances that I insist we have to sit down so we can both meditate and be prepared for our concerts.

  But even my mental health has to take a backseat to my need for her at times.

  “Hey!” Anca squeals as I slide onto the floor in front of her, pulling her crossed legs straight and up over mine so she’s straddling my lap.

  “Shhhh,” I whisper, pulling her mouth down to mine.

  She responds to me instantly, and I can taste her own need in her kiss, her body arching against mine, her hips grinding down to meet the gentle rocking of my body.

  “Marius… we don’t have time,” she argues, pulling her mouth off mine for a quick breath before crushing her lips against me again.

  I don’t say a word, I don’t need to.

  We understand each other perfectly when we’re locked together like this.

  Her hand tear at my shirt and we rip, then hear the pop of a button as she lifts it over my head. Her hands then pull at her own dress, bunching it up around her waist as I trace my tongue along the length of her gorgeous, smooth neck. God, that smell, I still can’t get enough of the sweet, heady vanilla scent that lingers around her like a soft, talcum cloud. It heats my blood and hardens my cock.

  Which, right now, can’t get much harder.

  She lifts her hip, just high enough for me to slide the zipper down on my jeans. Suddenly her hands are around me, stroking me, and it takes all that I have not to push her down onto the floor and take her. But I know her, she likes to take her time with me, tease me, feel like she’s in control, taking me to the point where I can’t control myself, and I can’t wait to be inside her.

  I close my eyes and bite my tongue, feel her slide off me, as she lowers herself to the ground between my legs. Her hands fumble with my belt buckle until she can free the button of my pants. I lift my hips, helping her slide my jeans down my legs.

  And then she’s there, her mouth hot over my cock, taking me deep.

  “Fuck. Anca… oh god.” I can’t help but moan, as she giggles, her mouth tightening around the tip, making the breath catch in my throat.

  “What? You want me to stop?” She teases me, whispering mere inches from my hardness, her hot breath washing over me, making me squirm.

  “No, seriously, what are you, some kind of witch?” I struggle to say.

  “No, I’m just, you know, practicing my meditation and yoga, to prepare me for the concert.”

  “Well, what the fuck kind of position do you call this?”

  “Oh, I call it the ‘make the viola player beg me to fuck him’ pose.”

  “Yeah, well, I think you’ve got it down.”

  I flip her over to the sound of her squeals and slide down her body, pushing her knees apart as I slide the flimsy material of her panties to the side.

  God, she’s so fucking sexy, I can’t help but think to myself as I lower my tongue to trace along her slit.

  “Oh, God, Marius!”

  “Shhh, I’m meditating,” I tell her, as my tongue wriggles between the softness of her labia.

  She squirms again, pushing her hips down, forcing contact of my tongue against her clit. “Fuck,” she moans, as I pull away.

  “This is MY move, ‘make the harpy harpist beg the viola player to make her come,’ pose,” I taunt her, sliding my finger against the opening of her sex, dipping the tip into her wetness.

  “I’ve never heard of that pose before, it mustn’t be very effective,” she says, pushing herself up on her elbows and glaring at me.

  “Oh? Let me show you how it’s done then,” I grin, pushing her back down onto the floor as my finger spread her wide, my tongue pressing hard against her aching button.

  “Oh, god… Marius…. fuck.”

  I pull off and circle her clit with the tip of my tongue, one, two, three times as she squirms, threatening to crush my head with her thighs.

  “MARIUS!”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Just… ahhhh,” she groans, as I drive a finger inside her, twisting it against her tightness.

  “Did you want something?”

  “Just… fuck.”

  “Just fuck… what?”

  “Fuck… you bastard!” she yells and grabs a handful of my shirt.

  I take that as my cue, and pull myself up onto my knees, dragging her hips towards me, and in one movement, sink myself deep inside her.

  “Shitshitshitshitshit!”

  “Wow, so ladylike
,” I pant as I pull back and drive myself into her again.

  “Shut up and just…”

  “Just what? You’re going to have to finish your sentences if you want me to know what you want!”

  She opens her eyes and glares at me. I grin at her and reach between us, grazing my thumb over her clit. Her eyes slam shut as she arches her back, and I feel her squeeze me so hard, I think I might lose all control right in that moment.

  There’s silence for a moment except for the sound of us panting as our bodies grind against each other. I’m so close, but I want her to let go first.

  I find her aching bud between my fingers and pinch gently, and her whole body tenses.

  “Oh Fuck! FUckfuckfuck! I’m going to come,” she yells, and a sense of release washes over me. I pull her hard against my body, thrusting deep inside her as I feel her muscles squeeze and release, over and over.

  “Oh god, Marius…. fuck me…”

  Her voice, thick with lust pushes me over the edge, and I force myself to look into her eyes as I reach my climax. My body jerking against her as I release myself inside her.

  “Oh… Anca… baby…” I mumble, as my body collapses and I lay back on the floor, pulling her on top of me.

  “Hmmmmdatwasgud…” she mumbles, her face buried against my damp chest.

  I can barely hold back a chuckle. Her passion is so overwhelming, but I love her endearing sweetness just as much. My heart purrs a happy tune and I wrap my arms around her as our breaths slow and our heartbeats return to normal.

  “SHIT!!”

  A voice jerks us awake, and I spring up, only to see Dennis slam the door shut with him on the other side.

  “Aw, fuck.” I say, watching his silhouette against the window rush away.

  Anca, on the other hand, giggles.

  “What? You think that’s funny?”

  “You trying to tell me you’ve never been caught with one of your groupies before?”

  “I… wait, what? That’s irrelevant. What if it had been Jez?”