Dream Me Off My Feet (Sex, Love, And Rock & Roll)

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Dream Me Off My Feet (Sex, Love, And Rock & Roll) Page 19

by Kisner, Stevie


  As they exited the elevator on their floor, Stuart issued a warning to everyone. “You have less than an hour before we head back. We leave at six-forty-five. Be here waiting at the lifts.”

  “Or what, Stu?” joked Clay. “You’ll leave without us?”

  “Just be here, okay?” Stuart looked pained.

  Korina walked alone to her room, ignoring JT completely. He was in a rather foul mood from the wasted afternoon. She headed straight for her suitcase when she entered, not needing to shower again. Nobody was coming tonight to look at her; she’d wash away the sweat and rafter grime after the show.

  She pulled on a pair of black bike shorts and a black tank top. That should be comfortable in the heat of the catwalk. It would be cooler down below, so she opted for electric blue sweatpants over the shorts. She finished with a ponytail to stay cool and keep the hair out of her eyes.

  Kori noticed the sound of JT’s shower had ended, and thought about knocking on his door. Maybe she could help with his mood… Thought you were going to stay away, Kori? Not keeping to your own word, now? It’s for the fans, of course, she told herself. Anything to help with the show, wasn’t that part of her job description?

  She stuffed an extra battery into a belly pack, then made sure her gear bag was packed and ready to go. She stepped into the hall, sucked in a nervous breath outside JT’s door, and knocked.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” he called. “Just let me get decent.”

  He opened the door a moment later wearing only a pair of red briefs and a lopsided grin. “If I’d known it was you, love, I wouldn’t have put on anything at all.”

  She ignored his comment, his enchanting smile, and his bare, muscled chest. “Well, Grumpy, I see your mood has improved. Maybe I didn’t need to come cheer you up, after all.”

  “No it hasn’t, Kori, I’m only smiling because it’s you at my door. C’mon in. I was just dressing.” He stepped back to allow her to enter.

  She walked past him a little closer than necessary, allowing her bare arm to brush the curled hairs of his chest. The almost-touch had his nipples puckering tightly as gooseflesh rose on his arms. Kori smiled inside. Her plan to wind him up a bit (anything for the fans) was working. She plopped down on the bed and drew her legs up, Indian-style.

  JT sat in the easychair to pull on his socks, pointedly keeping his distance. He grabbed his jeans and yanked them over his feet before standing to zip up and pull on an old faded t-shirt.

  Korina’s gaze panned toe to head. “You plan to wear that tonight?”

  “I’m going to change backstage. All my stage clothes are there in wardrobe trunks. Or I could just go in my underwear…” he said.

  “Oh, yeah, Stuart would just love that,” she smiled.

  JT patted his pockets, searching for a lighter. “Here,” she said, offering him hers. “Just give it back, I don’t have any more spares. I don’t want to be hunting in your dressing room for it when you’re on stage. I swear, you and lighters…”

  They both sat silently lost in their own thoughts of the upcoming show, and of each other.

  ****

  Shortly before showtime, Kori pulled JT aside. “Knock ‘em dead,” she said. “Simply blow them away.” She kissed his cheek, and turned to leave.

  “What’s that for? You going somewhere?” He looked puzzled.

  “No, I’ll be watching. You’ve got a lot to do before the show and I’ll be in the way, so I’m wishing you luck now, that’s all.”

  His cheek tingled from the light touch of her lips; he was already keyed up preparing for the show, and her kiss affected him more than he let on. “Okay. I’ll be looking for you.”

  “No, you won’t. You’ll be singing to all the pretty girls in front of the stage, as you should be.” She gave him a dazzling smile and walked away.

  Now what the hell was that all about? he wondered as he watched her retreating backside. Before he could consider further, Paul approached him with a question, after him came Stuart, and then it was time to go on.

  ****

  With her new digital camera tucked safely inside her tank top to keep from swinging, Kori made her way up the ladder to the catwalk, feeling the rising temperature with every rung. From down below, it hadn’t seemed so high. Boy, are appearances deceiving. Doesn’t help that heights scare the bejeezus out of me.

  She reached the narrow metal mesh strip that she was supposed to walk on and rubbed her damp palms on her pant legs. These sweatpants have got to go. I’m already roasting up here. She stood at the wide intersection of two catwalk runners and peeled the pants off, slinging them over her shoulder so they wouldn’t be left behind and forgotten.

  She scanned the crisscrossed walkways for the best place to perch. One of the runners passed right over the stage. She eased her way over and sat down, then removed her lens cap and checked her focus and settings in case they’d shifted on the climb up.

  She took a few test shots of the empty stage, then turned to shoot the full coliseum. Whoa. The place held eighteen thousand, and the show had sold out weeks ago. The newest album was selling very well, garnering abundant airplay, and had even received good reviews. Critics generally hated popular music, but this time the tone of the album matched the upbeat mood of the critics.

  Being up near the rafters scared her silly, and Kori’s hands began to shake. Getting off her rubbery legs was priority one, so she spun her belly pack of extra gear to the rear and stretched out flat on the mesh flooring.

  Seconds later, the band ran onto the stage to thunderous applause, and she began to shoot. Midway through the second song she sat up to change lenses, and didn’t notice her sweatpants falling from her shoulder.

  ****

  JT scouted the front rows, glancing at the wings at every opportunity, but she was nowhere to be seen. Strange, she said she’d be here. He spotted Russell and wondered why he wasn’t up on the catwalk as planned. I’ll have to ask him later, he thought, disappointed. I can’t exactly ask him now.

  Paul noticed JT constantly glancing around, and wondered why. He was usually more focused during the show. He moved closer to ask him what was wrong, and had to jump back as an electric blue something flashed by and landed in a puddle on the stage. They were used to women throwing undergarments up on stage, but these were too big for knickers.

  He looked down at the mass of fabric and realized it was a pair of sweatpants. He chuckled, thinking they were beginning to strip out in the audience now. He twirled his way closer to JT to point them out before a tech could whisk them away, and to tell him to hunt for the semidressed female who was recently wearing them.

  JT noticed Paul getting closer, and leaned toward him to hear. “Check out the pants, JT.” Paul flipped his head toward the wad of fabric on the floorboards. “There’s some lovely lady minus them out there somewhere. Do you see her anywhere?”

  JT scanned the first fifteen rows, squinting against the lights. “Nope. Which direction did they come from?”

  “I dunno. They just seemed to drop out of the sky.” Paul danced back to his microphone.

  Drop out of the sky? JT peered up, then looked back at the familiar-colored electric blue pants. No, she wouldn’t dare….

  He looked back up at the catwalk and caught the reflected flicker of a blue gel on… something. He squinted where he’d seen the flash of light, and spotted a figure laying on the catwalk, an enormous lens aimed at the stage.

  Bloody hell! What was she doing up there? He’d never wanted a show over as badly as he wanted this one to end, just to get her back down on the ground. Christ, she couldn’t keep from getting dizzy just standing on the floor. What did she think she was doing up in that heat? He said a silent prayer that she wouldn’t roll off and land on the stage like her pants, and began his vocals as Paul wound down his guitar solo on the bridge.

  Kori was sweltering and realized Stuart was right. All the pot smoke did drift up there. Good thing it’s not very potent by the time it reaches the
rafters, ‘cause I’d have a helluva time climbing back down if I got secondhand stoned up here. She focused on Paul during his solo, glad he’d moved away from JT so she could get a good shot.

  She wondered if JT had noticed her absence yet, and what he made of it if he did, as she focused on Paul’s lightning-fast hands. She held her breath as she released the shutter. Ah, gotcha! she thought, then slowly panned her lens toward Clay. Something bright blue on the stage caught her eye, just as a tech ran from the wings to snatch it up. That blob looked like my pants, except mine are right here… She glanced at her shoulder to find it bare but for her tank-top strap. Oh, holy shit. Well, I’m guessing that JT knows where I am now.

  She trained the big lens on his jacketed form, and was rewarded with an angry upward glare during a break in the lyrics. Tough, she thought, her eyes narrowing. You’re not my keeper, even if you can force me stay. This is my job. You don’t like it, rewrite the contract or rip it up. She snapped several shots of his angry and worried face before crawling further down the catwalk to focus on Rafe and Ian.

  She stayed in the rafters for the entire show, wishing she’d thought to bring a bottle of water. As the band took their final group bow, she crawled back toward the ladder near the wings, feeling too woozy to trust her legs on the narrow path. She reached the ladder and just sat, too scared to start down. If I wasn’t so lightheaded, this would not be a problem, she told herself. But the water’s down there, and I’m up here. How to get the two of us together without landing on my ass? She sat and pondered her predicament, unaware that the band had left the stage.

  And unaware of the sweaty blond head advancing up the ladder toward her.

  Two rungs at a time.

  Kori sat, lost in hazy thoughts, staring at the nothingness beyond the opening in the railing at the top of the ladder. She didn’t fully register JT’s arrival until his entire face was above the level of the catwalk. He opened his mouth, ready to scold her into oblivion.

  “Hi, JT! Did you, by any chance, bring me some water?” she asked brightly.

  He was momentarily struck dumb. But then his anger took over. He inhaled deeply, intending to really let her have it, exiting fans below be damned. Something about the smell of the air made him hesitate. He climbed up onto the catwalk and squatted down to peer closely at her smiling face. “You’re stoned.”

  “I am not!” she replied indignantly. “I never touch pot. It makes me weird. I hallucinate and stuff.”

  His anger softened. No wonder she hadn’t come down. But then, if she had never gone up in the first place…. Don’t go there right now, JT, she’s likely to flip out. Just look at her, for crying out loud. She’s smiling like an idiot.

  “It’s the air up here, love. Look around at the cloud you’re sitting in. You’re stoned out of your mind.”

  “Okay.” She stared at him.

  He was at a loss again. Okay, she’s stoned? Okay, it’s in the air? Okay, she’ll look around? “Okay, what, love?”

  “Oookay, then now I know why your hair’s blue.” She giggled. “And why you have wings.”

  Wings? He licked his dry lips. He’d never realized how difficult it was talking to a person who was high when he wasn’t, himself. “Wings, sweetheart?”

  “Yeah, and they’re pretty cool, too. Why don’t you just fly us down, JT?” She scooted closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  Her enticing scent, amidst the skunky pot smoke, assaulted his senses. He didn’t stop to analyze what her innocent touch was doing to his insides. He simply turned his face into her hair and breathed her in. Good thing I’ve developed a resistance to marijuana or we’d both be up here with a contact high.

  “You were up here for the entire show, Kori?”

  She nodded against his neck, the soft movement sending shivers up his spine. “And I got some fantastic pictures, too,” she murmured against his skin. “The view from up here is incredible. I want to do this again.”

  Over my dead body. “Not bloody likely, sweetheart. You’ve no tolerance for marijuana smoke. Let’s see about getting you down from here, shall we?”

  Her grip around his neck tightened. “No. I can’t.”

  “What, darlin’? Sure you can. It’s just like going up, but backwards,” he choked out from under her deathgrip.

  She shook her head against his throat. “No,” she whispered. “I’m terrified of heights, JT. And I feel so strange. Dizzy, too.”

  Oh, fuck. Now what? He pulled her arms from around his neck and leaned his face close to hers. “Yes, you can, love. I won’t let you fall. I’ll be right underneath you.” He saw sheer terror in her eyes and vowed to slaughter both Russell and Stuart.

  “Mmm, underneath me. Oh, the things that come to mind …” A tiny smile began to form as her mind left the catwalk and headed into the gutter.

  Involuntarily, he felt a stirring behind his zipper. Get a hold of yourself, man. Not only is she off-limits, but you’re stranded fifty feet in the air.

  “Kori?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s go down the ladder now, okay?”

  She sighed. What a party-pooper. She looked over the edge of the catwalk, eyes widening. “Oh, God, JT, I’m so scared.”

  “I’ll go first, and stay just one rung below you. You won’t fall, I promise.” He tilted her chin to lock his eyes with hers. “I promise, you’re safe with me. Do you trust me, Kori?”

  —Please, love, please, you’ve got to trust me on this one…

  She nodded her head, lost in the sea-green depths, all her earlier mistrust gone.

  “Okay, then, let’s go.” He backed to the ladder and started down. When he reached the third rung from the top, his chin just peeking over the edge of the catwalk, he called softly to her. “I’ll make sure both your feet are firmly on each step. Come on over here, Kori.”

  She crawled to the ladder, then spun on her knees, almost beaning him with her sneakers. The view of her sweet bottom directly in his face, clad only in those form-fitting shorts, was worth it. He dropped down one more rung and gently took one foot in his large hand, guiding it to the first step. “Now bring the other one over, baby.”

  She obliged with hesitation. She trusted him, but her fear was strong, and her hands were sweaty on the railing. “Very good, love. I’m going to go down another step, and I want you to follow when I say so.”

  They slowly progressed down the ladder, JT encouraging her at every rung. Watching the muscles of her strong thighs move, having her rear end mere inches from his face, and most importantly, having her trust, was giving him a raging hard-on he knew he could do nothing about. Every time he steering her foot to the next step, he had to resist the urge to slide his hand up her calf and over the black nylon bike shorts that hugged every curve.

  He reached the bottom, amidst cheers of the gathered band and crew, who at first had wondered why JT went up the ladder in the first place. Kori stepped down, missed the last rung, and lost her balance.

  JT caught her before she could fall, and wrapped his arms around her shaking body. He wasn’t surprised to find Stuart and Russell were nowhere to be seen.

  ****

  JT stalked into Stuart’s hotel room and slammed the door, making both Russell and Stuart jump. He whirled and bellowed at the two using all of his considerable volume.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” His eyes flashed green fire.

  Stuart blanched. “There didn’t seem to be a problem at the time, JT. She volunteered, for chrissake! How were we to know she was afraid of heights?”

  “It’s not just that, dammit! All the drifting smoke got her high as a kite! She was afraid to climb down again, and too stoned to really care.” He dragged a hand through his still-unshowered hair. “Oh, and did I mention that she nearly had heatstroke? She’d never been on a catwalk before, and didn’t know just how hot it could get. She didn’t even bring a bottle of water! Not that anyone in this room bothered to tell her anything about that…”


  “Again, JT, we honestly couldn’t have known. I knew Russell was in no shape to be up in that heat and smoke, and I told him as much. Next thing we knew—”

  “She walked into the middle of our discussion and said she’d do it,” Russell finished. “Christ, JT, it was an honest mistake.”

  “So it would be too hot and smoky for Russell, but not enough so to even warn Korina? Jesus Christ, you two!” JT fought the sudden urge to punch something.

  “I was thinking of his recent flu, JT. I really didn’t think that a healthy young woman would have any problems. And I guess I assumed that the smoke wouldn’t pose any difficulty, either.”

  “She doesn’t get high, Stuart. Matter of fact, pot makes her see things. She thought I had wings, for fuck’s sake!”

  Russell bit his lips to kill a smirk, but JT caught the smiling corners of his eyes. “What’s so God damn funny?”

  “I’m sorry, I just can’t picture you with wings sprouting out your back, JT.” A small chuckle escaped, and he bit his lips again.

  JT opened his mouth to tell him just where to shove it when Stuart intervened. “It was my fault. I really should have made sure she understood what she was getting into. I assumed she knew. Or that Russell would tell her when I left them to talk about what sort of shots you were looking for. Honestly, JT, it really was just a bunch of stupid assumptions.” He didn’t add that she had a mouth and a brain, and could easily have asked questions herself.

  JT stared at the two men; he could see their point, but it did nothing to quell his need to blame someone. Anyone. Except her. And really, she should have known better, with a fear of heights, not to go up there alone. But he vowed to hold her to her contract, and that contract included photographs. Shit. Maybe this was his own fault. Or maybe it was really no one’s fault at all. He pursed his lips and sighed.

  “So where is she now?” Stuart hoped his question didn’t kick JT’s fury back into gear.

  “Where I’m going to be heading in a few minutes to check on her. Safely in her room, tucked into bed, and hopefully sleeping it off,” JT replied. “No thanks to the two of you.”

 

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