Seducing Sarah - Book 4: The Player - Kris

by Ami LeCoeur

  I certainly never thought of myself as a prude, but I was so used to being consciously in control of all the circumstances around me. Of what other people needed, wanted, thought. In the wings with Kris, all I’d thought about was me and the moment. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to take care of myself and my own needs first. Instead of worrying about if other people were taken care of. I found myself turned on all over again—simply thinking about him inside me, pressing me against the wall, barely offstage from where the world could see us.

  I sat on the bench in the restroom, my head in my hands as I pushed away my tumbling thoughts and shaky feelings. Once I got myself back under control, I would return to my little spot offstage.

  Taking a deep breath, I splashed more water on my face and freshened my make-up. Then I walked back around the perimeter of the venue, intending to go through the door to the backstage area. I cast a quick glance over the audience, smiling at how much they seemed to enjoy the band and Kris’ hugely overt sexual antics in particular. I ran my eyes back over the crowd. Then my heart nearly stopped beating when I caught sight of Jimmy, our Valentine’s Day photographer and my failed Cellar date, standing to the side, camera in hand, watching the crowd.

  I pulled back, hoping he wouldn’t see me. Once my heart resumed its normal beating, it sank in my chest. Of course he’d be there, putting a huge damper on my previously splendid mood.

  No. Don’t let him do that to you. The jerk is simply not worth it.

  Tammy’s voice sounded in my head, ringing loud and clear as always. And she was right, as always. I decided to listen to the voice, shaking off my dread as nothing more than a slight hiccup, and moving on both physically and mentally. I hoped he wouldn’t see me or try to talk to me, but I certainly wasn’t going to give him another thought if I could help it. He wasn’t worth it.

  I made my way back to my spot offstage. The rest of the set was more subdued, I noticed, kind of like my own mood. Kris’ tall, lanky body moved more fluidly, less frenetically. Still sensual, but slightly less erotic. His attention seemed to be focused outward, more on the audience, instead of on me, as it had been during the first part of the set. I was glad. Now, I could let the music flow through and relax me, instead of being acutely aware of the way my most intimate places ached with need.

  Even the lighting seemed different—showcasing the entire band instead of just Kris. I leaned back, softly singing along to the songs I knew, unconsciously swaying back and forth while snapping photos of both Kris and the band from my very special spot. I even got a couple good selfies with them in the background. I was enjoying the gig, and having “evidence” of this new-to-me experience wasn’t such a bad thing.

  While I waited on the sidelines, I forwarded my favorite shots to Tammy, including the first one I’d taken that night. I got a big thumbs up text back, and a grinning smiley face.

  Intermission came sooner than I’d expected, breaking the spell the music had put me into. My pulse quickened in anticipation as I looked forward to Kris wanting to pick up where we’d left off. I did my best to avoid eye contact with the rest of the band, trying not to wonder what they thought of me—especially if any of them had seen us offstage while the drummer did his solo.

  Even with all my inner turmoil, I beamed when Kris reached me, expecting another full-mouth soulful kiss. Instead, he gave me a quick peck on the cheek. I tried not to show my disappointment.

  “Sorry,” he said, continuing down the hall. “There’s something I gotta take care of first, but I’ll be back before the next set.”

  I told myself to be patient, but I didn’t want to just stand around like a lust-struck groupie, so I headed off to get a drink from the bar.

  The crowd was still upbeat, energetic, clearly enjoying themselves. My little secret sat firmly in my heart—and loins. As I wandered through the mass of people, I felt a delicious little tingle there when I thought about what had happened just inches away from their sight while they were listening to the music. It was enough to make me bite my lip to suppress an uncharacteristic giggle.

  “Do you have any cider?” I asked. The bartender nodded, holding up a bottle. I enthusiastically ordered one. As I waited, a Hawaiian shirt came into view. My heart leaped, thinking it might be Kris looking for me. It wasn’t, but I recognized the man wearing the shirt nonetheless.

  “Oh, look, it’s you!” John, the apple vendor, grinned down at me.

  “Well, hello, I thought you were Kris for a second there.” I chuckled. It seemed a little absurd, how very different they were aside from their taste in fashion.

  “I don’t think anybody could ever accuse me of having musical talent.” He laughed. I liked his full-bodied laugh, along with his slightly self-deprecating sense of humor.

  “I’ve been meaning to come find you at the market,” I told him. “I seem to have created a craving in my employees. They’re addicted to your apples.”

  “We’re getting pretty end of season, but I think I can find enough to set aside for you,” he promised with a wink.

  “What are you doing here?” Despite my upset at having seen Jimmy earlier, I was still feeling warm and fuzzy, turned on and in love with the world. I even felt much chattier than I would have otherwise. “I’ve never run into you outside of the Market.”

  “Kris is one of my favorite local musicians,” he said. “I was free tonight and thought I’d come see him. I don’t get out a lot, but I’m glad I did tonight.” I touched my glass to his, and we both drank.

  I liked John, but we didn’t really know each other. For some reason, I didn’t want him to know about my connection with Kris. Whatever this thing with Kris was or might become, it was still too new and fresh for me to talk about with anyone.

  “You like this kind of music, huh?” I asked.

  John nodded. “I love classic rock, R&B. I love the blues too.”

  “So do I,” I agreed. “And jazz.”

  “Oh, forget it,” he said, laughing. “Miles Davis? Ella? Willie? I have them on an endless loop on my iPod.”

  Well, that was a pleasant surprise. “I listen to a lot of that too.” Who would have thought we had so much musical taste in common? It was nice, connecting with someone who liked the same music as I did. “I get really tired of the current trends. I can’t listen to much of the hip-hop, and that… what’s it called? That dub-whatever it is?”

  John laughed, teeth flashing beneath his mustache. “Dub-step. Techno.”

  “Ha, Tech-NO,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s just too repetitious. Synthetic.”

  “I always told myself I would never hate any genre of music, that there was something to enjoy in everything. But I’m with you. I can’t find much to enjoy there.”

  I laughed, nodding. It was like he was inside my head, speaking my thoughts. He looked up at the lights as they dimmed and then came back up a couple of times. “Looks like they’ll be starting again soon.”

  “Oh, right. I have to go back to my… friends.” I excused myself and headed back. I hadn’t noticed the time, and I hoped Kris wasn’t looking for me. There would only be a few more minutes before the show started up again, and I wanted to be there, especially if he… needed me. I grinned as I hurried back.

  Chapter Twelve

  A deep, teasing voice met my ears as I headed towards the backstage area. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  Damn. I couldn’t believe it. Honestly, how could I have such bad luck? Why me, and why here, now? I turned, willing myself to come out on top of whatever happened between us.

  “Likewise. Do you think you might remember my name?” I asked Jimmy, smiling sweetly. He winced, clearly remembering the night he’d forgotten it—and me.

  “Yes, Sarah,” he muttered through clenched teeth. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

  “There was a reason for that,” I said, taking a deep breath, and raising my chin.

  He scowled at me. “Why did you just dump me like that? You disappeared off the fa
ce of the Earth. You even had your assistant call to follow up with me after all the hard work I did for you. What gives? I never thought you’d be like that. It’s pretty immature, ghosting somebody.”

  My eyes widened. He was either truly delusional or playing the fool. It was hard to believe he was sincere, but the look on his face looked like true confusion. I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him.

  “It was pretty obvious to me that we weren’t suited for each other,” I said. “You had… other interests. Interests that clearly didn’t involve me.” Like the bachelorette party in the bar that night.

  He looked no more enlightened than a few moments before, so I shook my head, deciding to just let it go. He was simply one of those guys who’d never get it—another reason why I’d dropped him like the bad habit he would have turned out to be.

  “How would you know? You never stuck around long enough to find out anything about me.”

  “Oh, I stuck around long enough,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Well, I must have done something right.” His lip turned up in a smirk. “We’re both here, at the same concert. Even if you’re alone. If you’d hung around, even a little, I’d have brought you. I have contacts with all the musicians. They all know and love my work. You wouldn’t have to be here by yourself, and you could have gotten in for free.”

  I scowled when I heard the way he stressed the final sentence. What a hot-air-filled egomaniacal windbag. Wouldn’t he be surprised if he knew the truth? My cheeks reddened again as I thought about what happened during the first set. That was something he’d never find out about.

  “I’m here as Kris Morton’s guest,” I said, making my smile as sweet as I could under the circumstances.

  Jimmy’s eyes widened for a moment… before he burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked, the smile dropping off my face.

  “He invited you, huh? I would never have pegged you for a groupie.” He laughed again, even more heartily this time.

  My skin prickled at that. Suddenly, overwhelmingly, I was furious. This was definitely a case of the pot calling the kettle black. “A groupie? You’re out of your mind. What are you talking about?” A groupie, me? Honestly.

  Jimmy didn’t answer. All he did was jerk his head in the direction of the doorway leading to the backstage area. I saw one of the band members standing there, no fewer than three girls hanging on him. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at Jimmy, then left him behind as I marched angrily toward the doorway. He thought he knew everything, the jerk. Not everybody was as slimy as he was.

  I did my best to shake off the upset as I walked down the short hallway, turning the corner to head back towards the dressing room. Jimmy’s words still pounded in my ears. I needed to find Kris—to erase Jimmy and his hurtful words from my mind, if nothing else.

  And I found him, all right. His voice reached out to me from the little alcove where he’d pulled me just before the show. Only, he wasn’t alone.

  I couldn’t believe my eyes. A twenty-something girl was on her knees in front of him, head bobbing up and down, moaning as she worked his dick. His eyes were closed as he held the back of her head, grunting as she sucked him off. “Oh, yeah, baby. Just like that. See what you do to me? I need you so bad… you got me so hot out there… this is all your fault, oh, yes.”

  I heard his words, way too close an echo of what he’d said to me less than an hour earlier, just before we’d…

  I felt dizzy all of a sudden and leaned against the wall for support. A wave of nausea washed over me, and it was everything I could do not to throw up right there in the hallway.

  I shut my eyes to block out the visual of what was happening. I put my hands over my ears, but that didn’t stop the sounds. I wanted it to stop, all of it, but I couldn’t get the scene out of my mind. What could I do? Confront him? Make a scene? What would that accomplish other than embarrassing me? I wouldn’t change a thing.

  I stood there for a few seconds more, fighting to gather my self-esteem, as the rest of my world seemed to crumble around me.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I opened my eyes again, forcing myself to look at the two of them. Unemotionally. Silently.

  I shook my head in shame as the realization hit home. That was me, earlier tonight. I might not have gotten on my knees like he’d originally asked, but I’d willingly had sex with him—in the hallway—during the performance. He’d used me, just like he was using that girl.

  I shuddered as I realized that was all he’d thought of me. I was just another girl, another mouth, another… cunt, servicing him. Someone to get him off? Holy shit. He was supposedly a grown man, not some teenaged kid. But he hadn’t grown out of that sort of opportunistic behavior yet. I should have known better.

  Then the thought: He’s just like Jimmy. The hallway spun around me, and I leaned back again for support. He was just like Jimmy. He didn’t care about me. Or any other woman.

  Then another cold, shocking thought washed over me. I was no better than Jimmy, either. For weeks, I’d hated him for what he’d done. He’d publicly humiliated me by being sleazy. And tonight, I’d been just as sleazy, just as opportunistic.

  I turned, certain I’d throw up if I stayed there a second more and ran smack into Jimmy. He’d followed me back, had been watching me as I reacted in horror to what I’d found.

  “So?” he asked, looking and sounding snide. “Here’s your rock star hero. What did you expect? He’s no different from me or any other guy.”

  I shouldn’t have been surprised that he didn’t get it at all. Once again, it was all about Jimmy. I pushed my way past him, ignoring his question. I had to get away from him, away from Kris, away from the world.

  I made a beeline for the bathroom once again, this time splashing water on my face to keep a hold on myself. I needed to keep it together, at least until I could get out of there. I wouldn’t let myself lose it, not in public. I wiped my face with paper towels, reminding myself to breathe slowly and deeply. I needed to maintain control.

  What’s wrong with you? I asked myself, staring into my watering eyes. What’s happened to you? You were always above that sort of thing. You held yourself to a higher standard. Where did that standard go? Who have you become, Sarah Jean? I ran my hands over my arms, nearly hugging myself as I shook with self-recrimination and shame. He’d used me. I’d let him use me. And hell, I’d used him, too. Suddenly I felt dirty, so dirty. I wasn’t used to this, and I didn’t know what to do.

  I wouldn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. I had to hold it together until I got home. Once I did, I would cry until there were no tears left in me.

  I’d walked right into it too. That was the worst part. I thought I was so smart, but I was stupid enough to think I was special—only to discover it wasn’t true at all. He used those lines on every woman. There was nothing special about me. I’d allowed him to use me like just any other groupie.

  Jimmy had been right. I was no better than one of them. And it hurt even worse that the smarmy photographer, of all people, had been the one to point out the truth to me.

  I pulled my phone from my purse with shaky hands, texting Tammy. Holy shit—another loser. I’m batting a thousand.

  Her almost immediate reply: ???

  Instead of replying with an explanation, I sent her the photo of Kris and me which I’d taken before the concert. Back when I was happy to be there, full of hope for where the night would go. How could so much have happened since then, only a couple of hours earlier? I felt hopelessly jaded.

  The door swung open, causing me to flee to a stall in panic. I didn’t want anybody to see me in this condition.

  “I can’t believe we actually did that!” The high-pitched giggle was joined by another giggle.

  “You’re so lucky,” came a second girl’s voice, filled with admiration and tinged with jealousy. “I mean, giving Kris Morton a blowjob between sets?” I covered my mouth with my hand, doing my best to keep silent. I thought my
heart might break—out of shame and disappointment.

  “Whatever,” the first girl said. “I saw the way he watched me while he was playing. The way he motioned for me to meet him. He told me I turned him on so much he needed me to blow him, or else he wouldn’t be able to focus on the rest of the show. I mean, come on. I was doing the entire audience a favor!” Both girls laughed.

  I wanted to die. I was so not anybody special. Just another girl. Another hole for Kris to stick his dick into.

  “God, he’s so hot,” the girl continued. “So sexy. He turns me on just by looking at me. I can’t believe he chose me!” He didn’t choose you—at least, he didn’t choose you first. It was everything I could do to keep my mouth shut. I felt torn between sorrow for her and contempt for myself.

  “Listen,” the girl said, still giggling, “he wants to get together after the show. In the dressing room.”

  “You slut!”

  “Hang on before you start calling me names, slut. He wants to meet you too.”

  “Oh. Hell yes!” her friend nearly screamed.

  They both dissolved into gales of helpless giggles, echoing around the room long after they’d left. I was grateful to be alone again.

  I couldn’t believe there were so many slimy, nasty men in the world. Why did I attract them so easily? Why couldn’t I find somebody nice, steady, dependable? Somebody with a sense of loyalty and a little bit of honor. Somebody…

  Oh shit. Here I was worrying about honor and integrity, and the guy hadn’t even used a condom. And I’d been too turned on to even think about it. Damn, damn, damn, something else to worry about. Please god! I looked upwards, silently praying. I promise not to be so stupid in the future.

  I leaned my head against the inside of the stall, the tears suddenly flowing freely. There was no point in trying to hold back. I was hurting too much.