Rush of Insanity

Home > Other > Rush of Insanity > Page 11
Rush of Insanity Page 11

by Eden Summers


  His fingers slid over the strings, hitting each note with ease while Sean hammered the drums and Blake and Ryan backed him up with their guitars. When the last chord sounded, he stepped back and caught her gaze. Her face was alight with an angelic glow, and an impressed smile tilted her lips. His blood thickened knowing he’d caused that mesmerizing reaction.

  By the time the final song started, his palms were sweating and he’d deliberately stopped looking in the woman’s direction. He wanted her. Bad. He blamed his monstrous surge in libido on the thrill of the hunt. He knew she wouldn’t be an easy catch.

  Panties and bras lined the stage, and not one of them hers. She’d watched them sail past, her mouth agape as if Reckless Beat fans were sex crazed deviants. Maybe they were.

  His woman was straight-laced all the way. The thought of seducing the look of innocence from her, nice and slow, made his cock stir to life. The vision of taking her hard and fast against the elevator wall made him bite the inside of his mouth to beat off the enthusiasm.

  He’d never felt this way about a groupie before. The crowd before him always seemed easily obtainable, like picking an apple from a tree. They were there because they thought they loved the band members, or craved the thrill of screwing someone famous. He couldn’t imagine this woman acting the same. She may even turn him down.

  A grin pulled at his lips. He was up for the chase.

  When the final song ended in a flash of light, Mitch pulled the guitar strap over his head and strode straight toward his guitar tech. He handed his baby into the man’s capable hands and walked to the rest of the band members, now hidden behind the lowered curtain. They shoulder bumped and clapped each other on the back to mark the perfect performance.

  “Are you guys clearing out right away?” Mitch raised his voice over the continued screams from the crowd and focused his attention on Mason, Sean, and Ryan, who would soon leave to stay with their families.

  “Yeah, Leah said she’d have security on stand-by and the cars waiting.” Mason wiped the sweat from his forehead. “You ready to make a run for your room?”

  Mitch glanced at Blake and raised a brow. Months ago, they all decided to remain in town for a few days after the show. They wanted to create hype over the album release, and what better place to start their promotional tour but Richmond, Virginia, the city where Reckless Beat originated?

  “I’m ready to go.” Blake ran his fingers through his spiky black hair and winced. “I need a shower.”

  “Let’s get going, then. I plan on eating a shit load of my momma’s cookin’ before I go to sleep.” Sean pushed out his non-existent belly and gave it a rub. “Nobody beat’s my momma’s cookin’.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Ryan added. “I plan on groveling until my wife lets me sleep in the bed beside her.”

  Sean snorted and tapped his drumsticks on Ryan’s ass. “Good luck, buddy. I think you’ll need it.”

  “Fuck you.” Ryan slapped the sticks away. “Watch your back, Sean. If she ends up kicking me out, you might wake up with me lying beside you.”

  Ryan’s relationship with his wife had deteriorated over the years. A marriage that was once filled with love and passion had died from the constant pressure of being in the public eye. Smiles and laughter had turned into snide comments and sexual starvation.

  “With my dry run lately, I probably wouldn’t kick you out either,” Sean nudged Ryan’s shoulder and headed toward the steps leading to the private area backstage.

  “Are you still meeting up with the hottie?” Mason asked with a bump to Mitch’s arm.

  “Yeah. I asked Steve to get her after the show.”

  “Steve?” Mason frowned. “Leah gave him the axe, remember?”

  Fuck. Mitch totally forgot.

  He turned back to the curtain hiding the crowd. There was no way he could go out there. He enjoyed his limbs intact and his skin unmarred by cougar claws.

  “Get one of the crew to find her,” Mason offered. “Hey, Tim.”

  The guitar tech lifted his gaze from one of the stage speakers and gave a jerk of his head in question.

  “Can you do Mitch a favor?” Mason continued, as if Mitch needed his hand held.

  “Sure.” Tim dusted off his hands and strode toward them. “What do you need?”

  “There was a woman,” Mitch said in a rush, then cleared his throat to try to hide his eagerness. “In the front row. Big, light green eyes, long brown hair. Dressed in jeans and knee-high boots.”

  Tim stared at him with a blank expression.

  “She was next to a blonde with big tits,” Mason added.

  “Ahh.” Tim nodded. “I remember the tits.”

  Mitch frowned. “Yeah, OK. Well can you go find the chick with the tits and bring her and her friend up to my suite?”

  Tim smirked and gave a salute. “My pleasure.” Without another word, he moved toward the curtain and disappeared behind it.

  “Great.” He was relying whole-heartedly on a guy who craved the second-hand attention he received from the Reckless Beat fans. Mitch fully expected Tim to saunter straight into the foyer and start posing for photos instead of finding the woman. Hell, it wouldn’t be a first if he was caught selling clothing with fake Reckless signatures, either.

  “I wouldn’t pin your hopes on that one.” Blake patted him on the shoulder. “He’s a bit of a loose cannon.”

  Mitch’s throat constricted a little. He had a snowball’s chance in hell.

  Making a conscious effort not to slump his shoulders, he followed Mason and Blake into the backstage room. They were greeted by a smiling Leah and a swarm of security guards all packed into the small space.

  “Great job, guys.” She moved forward and gave them each a kiss on the cheek as they passed. “Eww. You all need a shower.”

  “I’m pretty sure you do that after every performance.” Blake chuckled and pulled her in for a bear hug.

  Mitch watched the display of affection in a daze and tapped his foot. They still had to go through the drill of getting away from the fans with all their bits intact. He just wanted to be somewhere else…anywhere else, with his wide-eyed hottie beside him.

  “Oh, gross, Blake!” Leah pushed at his chest.

  Blake lifted her tiny frame off the ground and twirled her in a circle before placing her on her feet. When his hands dropped, she stepped back and shook her head in mock disgust.

  “Let’s get you boys home.” She straightened her suit and glanced around the room. “OK, Ryan, Mason, and Sean, you’ll be escorted to the cars waiting at the back of the building. Just be warned there are people everywhere. The function may have only held a thousand fans, but I think every other person in Richmond is outside waiting to get a glimpse of you. So be prepared for bedlam.”

  Her attention turned to Mitch, then Blake. “I have four men waiting to take you upstairs and anywhere else you need, until morning. There will also be additional hotel security around if you need them.”

  When they were led from the room, he scanned the hall, trying to spy a familiar face in the mass of people banked around the exit of the function room.

  “You see her?” Blake asked, stopping beside him in the middle of the lobby.

  Mitch cringed. He felt like an obsessive fan waiting for one special glimpse. She was only a woman. A wide-eyed, flawless woman, but a woman nonetheless. He needed to get a grip. “Nah. Maybe she’s at the bar.”

  He played it cool even though his throat tightened. The blonde and her friend were nowhere in sight. All he could do was hope Tim found her.

  Turning on his heel, they made their way to the shared suite upstairs. Mitch hightailed it to the shower to scrub the sweat from his body. He didn’t give himself a chance to descend from the adrenaline high. Once his heart rate settled, the half-hard part of his anatomy would perk up and want to play. And he had no intention of performing alone tonight.

  His shower lasted minutes. Enough time to wash and get out. He yanked on his boxers, pulled up c
ream cargo pants, and buttoned up a navy blue collared shirt. As he walked from the bathroom, he towel dried his hair, secretly hoping Tim might be in the suite with the woman.

  He needed to find out her damn name.

  “I gather from your disappointed expression, I’m not the only person you expected to see sitting here?” Blake asked from the sofa, his laptop resting on his thighs. The bass guitarist didn’t go anywhere without it.

  “Yeah. I thought Tim might’ve brought her up here. Maybe he couldn’t find her. Or she wasn’t interested.” He shrugged through the disappointment.

  “Well, I guess it’s me and you tonight, buddy.” Blake lifted the laptop from his thighs and stood. “Let me get some decent clothes on, and I’ll go downstairs with you. No harm in checking.” He closed the device and placed it on the coffee table. “Unless we get molested by an over-enthusiastic bunch of groupies.”

  Mitch gave a halfhearted snort. The thought of mindless sex with a giddy fangirl turned his stomach. His mind was already set on a particular conquest. He just didn’t want Blake to know how eager he was. “Sounds like a good fallback plan to me.”

  Chapter Three

  Alana’s legs shook as she paced the cement walkway in front of the hotel.

  “It’s only one drink, Al.” Kate stood on the edge of the grass, staring at her while she went back and forth, back and forth. “If you don’t go in there and see him, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  True. Tonight had already been the most exhilarating night of her existence. The opportunity to meet with one of the world’s most famous guitarists would never come around again, especially if she continued to live in seclusion on her mother’s property.

  “But what if…” There were too many “what ifs” coursing through her mind. What if he expected more than a drink? What if he didn’t take no for an answer? What if the whole band was there and they wanted to share her around like a bottle of soda at a kid’s birthday party?

  She’d lost count of how many pieces of teeny, tiny panties had been thrown on stage during the performance. At one point Alana worried the entire crowd would be naked by the end of the show. And none of the band members paid them any attention. Being gifted with used female underwear must be a common occurrence.

  “What if what?” Kate tapped her foot. “I’ll be there with you. It’s not like he can make you do anything you don’t want to do. Your mother’s brainwashed you into thinking men are douche bags. And for the most part, she’s right, but you can’t go through life hiding behind her bad experiences.”

  Alana growled in frustration and clenched her fists. Kate was right. She needed to toughen up. Her friend wasn’t bullying her, she was trying to beat away the uncertainty and insecurities Alana’s mother had crammed into her since birth. Christ. She already knew how to kick an attacker’s ass. Her pepper spray was firmly in her jeans pocket next to her cell phone, and they would be in a highly populated hotel in the middle of the city. What could go wrong?

  “Fine.” She breathed out a sigh. “Let’s do this.”

  “About time,” Kate mumbled and turned to walk toward the hotel entrance.

  Alana was going to do this. She would walk into the lobby, search for a celebrity who appeared far more stunning than any other man she’d seen in real life, and try like hell not to vomit on his shoes. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?”

  “Oh, for the love of god.” Kate turned and placed her hands on her hips. “Are you fucking serious?”

  “He told me earlier the security guard would come get me, and he never showed. Maybe he changed his mind.”

  Kate breathed out a calming breath. “Mitchell Davies is a rock legend.” She raised her eyebrows. “He is sex on a stick. He makes my ovaries sigh. And you’ve stood here bitching like a fifth grader for the last twenty minutes. All this anxiety over a man any sensible woman would be inside dry humping right now.” Kate gave her a forced smile. “You’re going to go in there. You’re going to blow his mind, and you won’t be coming back out unless I say so.”

  At least she kept the blowing part above the belt.

  Alana gave a slow nod. “Ohh kay.”

  They walked side-by-side into the glamorous lobby, around the closed coffee shop, and past the small groups of fans yet to leave the hotel. There was no sign of Mitchell or any of the other band members. With each passing moment, she grew more eager to find him, if only to see his flirty smile one last time—and his eyes. He had the sweetest eyes.

  After fifteen minutes of searching, Alana sighed and came to a stop yards from the entrance doors. “He’s gone, and so has the security guard from earlier.” She gave one last visual sweep of the room before focusing back on Kate. “I think it’s time to call it a night.”

  Kate glanced at her watch and shrugged. “Yeah. It’s already one. Let’s go home so I can get a few hours’ sleep before I have to get up for work.”

  Alana hadn’t taken more than two steps toward the exit when the hairs on the back of her neck lifted.

  “Hey!” The male shout came from the other side of the lobby.

  She knew who the voice belonged to before she glanced over her shoulder. The tone was unmistakable, even though they’d only previously shared a few words. Her feet rooted in place while Kate turned back around. The enthusiastic smile that crossed her friend’s face made Alana’s body shut down. She was entirely numb. Frozen.

  “It’s him,” Kate whispered, her lips barely moving.

  Alana gave a slow nod, and swallowed down the nausea pooling in her throat. She could act cool. She didn’t have a lot of experience talking to men. In fact, she’d only spoken to five people of the opposite sex in the last twelve months. But she could do this.

  “Start breathing before you pass out…and smile. You’ll do great.” Kate squeezed her shoulder and encouraged her to face him with a little push.

  Alana pivoted on her toes while time passed in excruciating seconds. He walked toward her wearing the same cap from earlier and a fresh change of clothes. All laidback confidence and wordless charm. Their gazes met. Locked. He stared at her with gleaming hazel eyes and a cheeky grin that made her insides melt.

  And he wasn’t alone.

  Another band member walked beside him, the guitarist with the raven, spiky hair and tattoos marking both arms. His eyes were blacker than night, dark and ensnaring, yet he had a cocky smirk that made her smile.

  “It’s Blake and Mitch!” The scream came from a group of five females hovering near the hall to the function room.

  Neither man flinched at the attention. It wasn’t until then she realized four more men strolled behind them, protecting the rock stars from a distance.

  Blake gave a wave to the hyperventilating women who were being encouraged to stay back by hotel security. He leaned into Mitchell, spoke something in his ear, then changed direction and strode toward the growing crowd.

  Alana glanced back at the man who stole her breath, his presence now only feet away, and swallowed at the intensity in his gaze. His eyes devoured her, caressing her body from her hair to her toes. She wasn’t sure how he did it, but she could feel his gaze raking over her, sending every nerve into hyperawareness.

  “Hey.” His smooth tone made her breasts tingle—and places much lower too.

  “Hi, Mitch.” Kate’s voice was bubbly and off pitch.

  Alana looked at her and wondered if her friend realized she was bouncing on her toes like a child on a sugar high. She frowned at her and received a glare in return. Kate jerked her head toward Mitchell, wordlessly instructing Alana to greet the world famous musician.

  “Hello,” she offered and reached out her hand before thinking better of it. Did people still shake hands?

  He glanced at her offering and grasped it in his own. His fingers were large, making hers appear childlike. Instead of greeting her in the way she expected, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Fire sliced through her chest, and a moan echoed between the
m. More than three seconds passed before she realized Kate had been the one to make the noise.

  “Can I buy you both a drink?” He didn’t let go of her hand, just continued to stare into her eyes.

  She glanced at Kate to break the connection and breathed through her anxiety. She hoped he couldn’t sense the way her palm began to sweat.

  Kate raised her brows. “It’s up to you, Al.”

  “Al.” Her name came from his lips in a barely audible whisper, and she couldn’t fight the need to turn her gaze back to him. “Sorry. I’ve been wondering what your name was all night.”

  She pressed her lips together to hide her elation. Mitchell Davies, a man better designed than seemed humanly fair, had been thinking about her name. All night long.

  Her insides tingled in a mix of excitement and apprehension. Her mother had taught her not to trust a gorgeous face, yet she easily melted into his touch. She was a slave to his testosterone. A novice who was looking up to a master. “Alana Shelton,” she corrected, and cheered inwardly when her voice didn’t waver.

  He squeezed her hand before letting it go. “Nice to properly meet you, Alana.”

  “Let’s get that drink.” Mitch needed to concentrate on something other than the lightest green eyes he’d ever seen. They were more than stunning. They were intoxicating. He felt drugged by their gentle hold, unable to look away.

  “Hey, Mitch.” Blake called out, and jogged toward them. “Ladies,” he greeted with a wave.

  Jealousy washed over him, thick and rich, when Alana flashed her dimples at his best friend.

  “Hi,” she offered in the sweetest, most endearing tone.

  He closed his eyes for a brief moment at the saccharine sound. He was in trouble. Big. Huge. Fucking gargantuan trouble. Had it really been that long since he’d been infatuated with a woman? He glanced at Alana and continued to wonder if there’d ever been a female to gain his interest so fast, or so thoroughly.

  “Oh, my gosh. Blake Kennedy. Hi…I’m Kate.”

  Blake chuckled at Alana’s friend. She was the typical star-struck groupie. They’d both become accustomed to this response from people. They’d learned how to react and kept their mouths shut on any information they didn’t want made public. The best course of action was to convince themselves the fans were infatuated with the music, not the band members themselves, even though they both knew it was a lie.

 

‹ Prev