by Eden Summers
It was a promise, one that was denied with the firm shake of his head. “That’s too far away.”
“I’ll make it worthwhile.”
“Give me more than a day and I’ll agree.” He opened his eyes. “Give me the two days we have off between Kansas City and Tulsa. We can get some alone time while the rest of the guys are heading home. It’ll be just the two of us.”
“Tempting,” she purred.
His hand climbed higher, reaching her panties. She gasped with the hard clench of her pussy and struggled to focus.
“Do we have a deal?”
One day she needed to learn a strategy to deny him. But today wasn’t that day. “Yes.” She nodded. “We have a deal.”
He grinned, placing one last kiss on her lips before he lowered her panties in a flourish.
“What—”
“A souvenir,” he explained, raising the material to hang between them. “Something to keep me company until I see you later tonight.”
She pushed from the car. “And where’s my souvenir?”
His grin turned to a smirk as he leaned back into her, the hardness of his shaft pressing against her. “This will have to do for now.” His kiss curled her toes, the delicate sweep of his tongue along her lower lip in vast contrast to the high octane sex she was craving.
He left her in a mind-fog, so numb to anything other than pleasure that he had to tug her off the car to get her moving. They strode to the café’s back door together, the tap of his knuckles nudging her professional mindset back into place.
“I’m not going to stay for breakfast.” Seeing him with Felicity earlier was bad enough. She didn’t want to have to witness their charade again on the way out. “I’ll get a coffee and leave.”
“I can’t convince you to stay?”
“I don’t want you to.”
“You sure? I feel like we should be celebrating or something.”
She snorted. “Celebrating?”
“It isn’t a regular occurrence for me to almost make love in a parking lot.”
She adored how he described it as love. Not sex. Not fucking. “Julie didn’t enjoy spontaneity?”
“Julie didn’t like much of anything.” He gave a sad smile. “Suffice to say, I’ve never had any sort of sexual experience anywhere other than our home or a hotel room for years.”
“Bullshit.” The denial came on an exhaled breath. “I don’t believe it.”
He reached over his shoulder and knocked louder on the door. “The lack of intimacy was never a warning sign because I had no previous conquests to compare our relationship to. Men always complain about a lack of sex, so I thought we were normal.”
“Not wanting to have sex with you every second of every day isn’t normal.” She grinned. “In fact, it’s damn crazy.”
“Clearly.” His lips curved. “I know that now.”
The sound of footsteps approached from inside, her heart hammering with the upcoming conclusion to their conversation. She wanted to smash his sexual to-do list, signing her name against each sordid achievement. “What else haven’t you done? I want to know it all. I want to do it all.”
He leaned close, his lips brushing her ear as the loud clunk of the lock released. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ryan stared into the rolling sea of people before him, the swinging overhead lights momentarily alighting parts of the moshing crowd. This is what he lived for—touring, music, inspiration—and yet the only sight he could see was Leah’s image in his mind.
The two days apart had been a painful limbo. No matter how many times they messaged or spoke on the phone, he still couldn’t convince himself she was in this for the long haul. He’d been on edge. Stressed. Annoyed. The usual banter from his friends had poked at his last nerve until he thought he’d snap. Then he’d seen her again. He’d kissed her. He’d almost taken her against a car in a café parking lot. And now he was on the other side of the spectrum. Thrumming. Adrenaline-filled. Pumped.
His final words at the café had made her blush. Those flawless cheeks had turned pink, her kiss-darkened lips had parted, and those gorgeous eyes widened. It was seconds of pure heaven before the waitress opened the door and stole the moment.
Now he was back to the emotional rollercoaster. Had he said too much, too soon? Was his time with Felicity likely to ruin his chances? Should he have taken her underwear out of his pocket before walking on stage? The damn material was burning a hole through his pants, the warmth sinking straight into his dick.
He was lucky the set list came naturally, otherwise Mason wouldn’t think twice about shoving him into the waiting arms of a cannibalistic crowd. The woman was driving him crazy. Literally. He was analyzing everything like a love-drunk fool. Especially her last cryptic text message—I’ll be making an appearance during the show. Play along.
He didn’t know what the last sentence meant. Or the first for that matter. She didn’t make a habit of watching their shows, and she certainly didn’t stand side-stage…although the thought of her hiding in the wings made blood surge to inappropriate places that shouldn’t be active while in front of an audience of thousands.
“…Kiss goodbye to your heart, sunshine. It’s time to make you mine,” Mason sang the closing line to the third last song in their set, making the sea before them erupt. Usually Sean would fall into the fast tempo beat of their next song, but instead Mason sliced a hand across his throat, indicating for them to hold up as he turned back to face the crowd.
“How you feeling, Chicago? Enjoying the show?”
The usual cacophony of noise responded—screams, whistles, cries, the offers of first-born children.
“We’re about to end the night with one of my favorite songs—” boos erupted “—but before we do that, I wanted to thank all those who helped our band manager with a special surprise tonight.”
Ryan’s stomach twisted. It didn’t take much these days to wring him dry.
“Have you met the smokin’ hot Leah Gorman yet?” Mason glanced side-stage and held out an arm for the flawless woman approaching with a huge wrapped box in her arms. “Come out here, boss lady.”
Now his stomach was dropping, the hollow organ sinking to his feet. He couldn’t stop himself from hungrily taking in the sight of her. His mouth dried in an instant as his focus glided over the black pumps accentuating muscled calves, to the knee-high charcoal business dress that fit her perfect body like a second skin, up to the perfection of her face adorned in light make-up. Had she taken the time to put on new underwear? Or was she bare, the smooth skin of her pussy easily accessible beneath her professional attire?
Fuck. He repositioned the base of his guitar to ensure the most enthusiastic part of his body was covered from all angles.
“Don’t be fooled by her aesthetic appeal.” Mason took the package from her hands to place it on the floor beside the microphone stand. “This woman can shrink a man’s balls with the raise of a brow.”
Leah inclined her head with a nod to the cheering crowd, unfazed by the taunts from the lead singer.
“You might also like to know this saucy lady has worked more stick than a NASCAR racer.” Mason chuckled. “Ain’t that right, honey?”
Shit. Ryan’s pulse tanked, the excitement of his dick evaporating under the humiliation Mason was dishing out. He’d kill the bastard. He’d fucking slay him.
He reached for his own mic, determined to retaliate when a hand came around his shoulder. He turned to Mitch standing at his side and pulled out the ear monitor that was making it impossible to hear what was being said through the guy’s moving lips.
“—your shit together. You’re making your feelings pretty obvious by the look on your face.”
Ryan turned his back to the microphone and glared. “He’s making a fool of her in front of thousands of people.”
“She can take it.”
“She shouldn’t have to take it,” he growled, the harsh soun
d unfamiliar to his own ears. “This is bullshit.”
“Thanks for the warm introduction, Mason,” Leah commanded the attention of everyone in the stadium, her voice too damn confident and sexy to be broadcasted in public. “I’m not going to hold up the performance any longer than necessary. All I wanted to do was thank those who made their way to the special table we had set up near the main doors to the building. Your participation is appreciated.”
Mason picked up the box off the floor and leaned into the microphone. “Blake, get your ass over here.”
Ryan turned to the tattooed bass guitarist, focusing anywhere other than the man who was provoking the need for bloodshed. Blake eyed Leah skeptically as he took steps toward the front of the stage.
“As you know,” she continued, “the first Reckless baby is due to enter the world in mere weeks, and all of us couldn’t be happier.” She held out a hand, wordlessly asking for Blake’s guitar so Mason could hand over the package.
“What are you guys up to?” Blake handed over his instrument and took the box. “I don’t like surprises.”
“This is a present from our Chicago fans to congratulate you on your upcoming parenthood.”
The man with harsh spiked hair and heavily inked skin seemed to fracture before everyone’s eyes, his face crumpling like tissue paper. He bent over, tore the wrapping from the box and opened the cardboard to peer inside. A smile tweaked his lips as he pulled out a large teddy bear, the material of its body adorned in permanent markers of all colors.
“Wow.” He glanced from Leah to Mason. “You guys are unbelievable.” He placed the bear under one arm and pulled out another item from the box—a large, soft, green blanket.
“Fans had the choice to either sign their name on the teddy or have it embroidered on the blanket. A local seamstress has been working non-stop since the start of the show to get as many names as possible on there.”
Blake shook his head, eying both the items in awe. “Fucking hell, guys.” He sniffed. “You need to pre-warn me about this shit so I don’t ruin my bad boy image.”
Leah leaned close and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Whispered words were shared that no one else could hear while Mason reclaimed the microphone stand.
“Come on, Leah, his stick is already taken. And you don’t want to make your Las Vegas lover jealous, do you?” Mason chuckled as he turned to the crowd. “A piece of Reckless trivia for you all—Did you know our saucy band manager had her clit pierced as a dare during Mitch’s wife’s bachelorette party?”
Leah stiffened, her spine jerking ramrod straight. Her gaze met Ryan’s, a glimpse of regret hitting him head on as she began walking toward him. He didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know if he should show his cards and defend her. Or laugh it off. Or even encourage the humor to draw attention away from his cloying feelings.
Play along, she’d said. Was this what she meant?
She got within feet of him and Mitch, her eyes stark as she grabbed his microphone. “Mason, I’m sure the crowd doesn’t want to hear about my past.” She glanced over her shoulder hitting the lead singer with a lethal smile. “But maybe you could tell them about the time you fell for a cross dresser and almost became a bi-sexual without your knowledge.”
The mic drop wasn’t literal, but figuratively she threw the device to the ground and gave a checkmate smirk before stalking from the stage.
He watched her leave, the sound of his heavily pounding chest unheard over the hysteria from the crowd.
“She’s OK.” Mitch’s voice barely carried over the insanity. “Focus on getting through the next two songs. You can kill him later.”
Focus? He wasn’t sure he knew how anymore. Leah seemed to strip the ability from him, making thought and sense impossible.
Ryan gave a jerky nod and placed his in-ear monitor back in place.
“I think that’s my cue to get this show back on the road.” Mason lifted his chin in Sean’s direction, signaling the drummer to lead them into the next song.
“You sure you don’t want to share the story?” Sean asked. “It sounds like they’d love to hear it.”
“Start the fucking song,” Mason growled, cupping the stand in front of him.
There was a chuckle and then the intro beat to Devil Woman. Ryan stood motionless, his fingers unmoving as the band played through the first chorus without him. He was numb. Lost to Leah’s humiliation. Lost to his own. He didn’t want the world invested in her relationship with another man. He didn’t want their focus on something that ended months ago.
He wanted the acknowledgement Blake had with Gabi. Or Mitch with Alana. Mason with Sidney. Sean with Melody. He was sick of being left out. First, he’d been the only married guy surrounded by singles. Then the tables turned. Now he was finally on an even level, yet his feelings for Leah were ignored.
Mason shot him a look as he sang, the silent question answered with a hard glare. Ryan didn’t hold back his frustration. It was clear for his so-called friend to see. The lead singer dipped his head, the small acknowledgement of the upcoming shit-storm taken without a pause in his voice.
Asshole. Fucking asshole.
Ryan should’ve walked from the stage. Should’ve, but didn’t. Instead, he glided his fingers over his guitar strings and joined in with the chorus, trying to focus on getting lost in the music. Minutes later, the song ended without a dint in his frustration. The encore didn’t calm him either. When the final note was strummed and the last lyric echoed through innumerable speakers, he strode for Jack, his guitar tech, dumping his instrument in the guy’s hands.
“You’ll have to share those stories about Leah,” Jack joked as Ryan untangled the wires leading to the battery pack hooked on to his pants. “I’m not surprised about the piercing. She seems like the kinky type.”
“Stupid, fucking Mason,” he muttered under his breath, the words inaudible above the crowd’s waning cheers.
The man in question walked by, entering the darkness of side-stage as Ryan handed over the ear-monitor equipment. This wouldn’t end well. He knew it even before he started striding after him. Even before he caught up and opened his mouth to yell, “What the fuck was that about?”
Ryan still wasn’t sure why he did it, but his foot came out without warning, shoving between Mason’s legs as he continued forward. His friend stumbled, taking three steps to right himself as he ran into the backstage door.
“What the fuck was that about?” Ryan repeated.
Mason turned and grinned, appearing more impressed than annoyed. “I could ask the same fucking question. Did you just try to trip me? Like a five-year-old?” He reached for the door handle and pulled it open, slinking into the bright light of the hall leading to the dressing rooms.
“Fuck you.” Ryan didn’t do violence. He didn’t want to be that guy. But clearly, what he wanted didn’t play a part in the current situation. “Do I really need to threaten to break your pretty face before you’ll take me seriously?”
“You couldn’t mess with my prettiness even if you tried.” Mason stopped inside the empty hall, the door easing shut behind them. “But it’s nice to finally see some enthusiasm. I wasn’t sure if you knew how to fight for a woman after all those pitiful years with Julie.”
Fucker.
Mason was right. He was so right Ryan slammed his forearm against the asshole’s throat and backed him into the wall from the humiliation of it. He hadn’t been enthusiastic for years. There’d been no emotion, no excitement. And now it was all pressing down on him, tenfold. He couldn’t breathe through the need to defend Leah. He couldn’t think past the necessity to make Mason pay.
“Why did you do that to her?” he demanded.
The door opened behind him, Blake, Mitch, and Sean coming to stand at his sides.
Mason rolled his eyes. “She asked for it.”
“She asked for it?” He pressed his arm harder. All it did was increase Mason’s smirk.
“Back off, Ryan,” Blake drawled, his voice lacki
ng emotion.
“That’s it?” Mason tipped his head to the side, glancing behind Ryan’s shoulder. “That’s all the help I get?”
“Pretty much,” Mitch offered. “I’m kinda hoping he clocks you before Leah gets the chance. The lesser of two evils and all that.”
“How did she ask for it?” Ryan pressed his free hand against Mason’s shoulder. “What the hell could she have done to deserve that?”
“You don’t get it.” Mason snickered. “She asked for it. Literally.” He shoved at Ryan’s chest, reclaiming freedom. “If you’ve got issues, you need to bring it up with her.”
“What’s going on?” The familiar feminine voice carried down the hall, her authoritative tone shooting up his spine like a firecracker.
For once, he didn’t immediately turn to face her. He didn’t want to see her. More specifically, he didn’t want to be seen by her. Not when he couldn’t control all the shit clogging his veins. It’d been so long since he’d had anything to protect. Anything to cling to. Fight for. He was becoming lost in the delirium of panic.
“Can you guys give us a minute?” Her question came from beside him, followed by mutters of agreement. “And don’t think I’m not going to tear you a new one later, Mason.”
The four of them started down the hall, Blake, Mitch, and Sean all bumping or throwing soft punches at the lead singer before they disappeared into the dressing room and closed the door behind them.
“Are you going to tell me what that was about?”
“You need to ask?” He didn’t mean to snap. Fuck. He couldn’t help it. “You had an entire stadium laughing at you. Judging you. And now Mason tells me you asked him to do it?”
She remained quiet for long seconds. Not long enough to encourage him to drag his attention from the chipped paint of the cement wall.
“Our time alone this morning didn’t go unnoticed. One of the gossip sites that ran the initial photos of you and Felicity, mentioned us hiding out in a back room. I didn’t want any assumptions to be made. We can’t risk someone latching onto the possibility and digging deeper until they find the truth. So yes, I asked Mason to help divert the topic of my promiscuity in another direction. And, as usual, he used creative license and took the request way beyond my instruction.”