Just like that first night, there’s a man grumbling behind me about having to come to some sissy concert with his girlfriend. There’s a floodlight shining right in my eye.
But none of that matters as soon as Romeo takes the stage. As the crowd erupts into cheers behind me, I cheer along with them—for him, and for us.
The woman Romeo chooses for tonight’s rendition of “Why I Need Your Love” is a heavily pregnant middle-aged woman who practically swoons throughout the whole song. I can’t help but smile at the smile Romeo is able to bring to her face as he croons those beautiful verses to her, whisking her around the stage in a slow dance, careful of her condition. The girls disappear during the break before the encore, returning with some merchandise that they insisted on purchasing even though I was sure Romeo would be happy to score them a few scarves for free.
As the lights dim once more, Romeo launches into the first of the two songs of the encore. I sway along to the music, a catchy beat that gets everyone moving, until the song draws to a slow close. I wait, along with every other person in the audience, with baited breath for the start of the next, and final, song.
A huge silence stretches out over the next few seconds, though, and I blink a few times when I realize nothing is happening. Could there have been a real technical malfunction this time?
As though to answer my question with a definitive no, Romeo appears at the center of the stage, bathed in a huge spotlight.
“Ladies and—ladies,” Romeo says, drawing a wave of laughter out of his crowd. “Tonight I’d like to close with a very special song. Never heard before, this is You Make My Heart Beat. I wrote this on the road one night when my heart escaped to Fort Lauderdale, and I’d like to invite the lucky lady it was written for up on stage with me—Erin, would you do me this honor?”
I feel my jaw drop as a huge cheer goes up throughout the stadium. This has never been done before. Romeo has never called two girls up on stage before. My stomach fluttered with nerves and excitement as Romeo extended his hand down to me, walking right up to the edge of the stage. The girls push me forward, urging me to take Romeo’s hand.
I do, with minimal hesitation. The rush of flying through the air and into his arms exhilarates me once more, and I allow myself to wrap an arm around him as he pulls me in close. The opening chords to this new song that even I’d never heard before begin to ring out through the sound system.
Romeo spins me outwards, holding my hand as he takes a few steps back to begin singing the first verses. The song is clearly a ballad, but somehow deeper and even more powerful than “Why I Need Your Love.” Romeo’s voice and words wash over me, drawing out all sorts of feelings from my body. Love and lust battle within me for dominance, finally rising together to form the most sensational feeling I’d ever experienced before.
I gasp as Romeo pulls me in closer during the guitar solo.
“Erin, this is what you do to me,” he says, speaking into his microphone as he takes my hand to press it to his chest where I can feel the steady beat of his heart. “You make my heart beat.”
With that declaration of love, of want, of need, he ducks down and takes my mouth in a heated kiss. The passion of it drowns out the excited screams of the crowd, making it easy to ignore them—to ignore how public all this is—as I wrap my arms around his shoulders to kiss him back. We kiss for so long that I think I faintly hear the guitar solo looping itself, so long that I’m gasping for air by the time we break apart.
Romeo doesn’t relent for even a moment, though, tipping my head up to kiss me again, licking into the hot cavern of my mouth. We had kissed on stage before, sure, but never this passionately. Dimly, through my half-lidded eyes, I register Romeo moving, sliding his arms away from me.
When I open my eyes again, stepping back to draw in a deep breath, I gasp at the sight of Romeo ripping his shirt off, flinging it to the floor of the stage like a useless article. Before I can ask him what he thinks he’s doing, he takes my wrists and drags me down with him onto the stage, right onto a slightly raised dais so that we were still in plain sight of the crowd. He pins my wrists to the floor above my head, spreading my legs with his own and rutting his hips up against me.
Even clothed, I can feel the friction of his hard-on against my quickly moistening pussy. I gasp, so loudly that I think his microphone picks it up and carries the sound throughout the whole stadium. He thrusts against me to the rhythm of the music, beginning to sing once more at his cue.
The crowd is going crazy, but I barely hear them. My own thoughts drown everything out—was this for real? Was Romeo really going to make love to me right here in front of thousands of people? It was so much more than a simple declaration of love, of devotion—it was an action, one that would probably go down in history.
I groan as he lifts me up suddenly, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. He continues to thrust against me through our clothes as he sings what sounds like the final verse. It’s so natural falling into these motions, these rhythms with him that I can’t even bring myself to care that so many people are seeing this—that this is probably being caught on film.
The song fades, slowly, and Romeo shifts once more. He lowers me to the floor again, this time placing me on all fours as he continues to thrust against me. The music has gone silent now, but the roar of the crowd is still deafening in my ears.
Romeo plants one hand down on the stage to brace himself as he lifts his other to my blouse, slowly unbuttoning it. I feel my cheeks flush a deep red at being so suddenly exposed, but I can’t stop my body from moving back against his—not even when I feel his hand on the snap of my bra.
Just one split second before that, the curtain falls.
Even as darkness engulfs the stage, the curtain blocking the crowd from viewing our carnal act, Romeo does not stop. He drops my hands to my hips once more, holding me still as he pushes my panties aside underneath my skirt. I gasp, loudly—but the microphones have been cut and no one but Romeo hears that sound this time.
His fingers teased my clit, almost entering me before retreating. Could it be he was really going to fuck me right here on stage? Perhaps not in front of thousands of people—who were all still screaming despite not being able to see anything—but in front of his band, his crew?
“Not here,” I whisper but he doesn’t stop as he kisses me, his fingers exploring my wet folds.
I groan as I feel him drop his jeans and press the head of his cock against my opening. Yes, yes—I wanted nothing more than to be filled. Damn the eyes that I could feel on us—I didn’t care one bit that we were being watched.
Minutes later, we are in the dressing room; too many eyes on us behind the curtain.
Romeo seems to share that sentiment as he murmurs my name before thrusting inside of me, slow and sensual. He continues to roll his hips to the beat of the song that just ended, the music still ringing in both of our ears. I feel my inner muscles quivering around him as he speeds up, thrusting in deeper and harder.
The crowd seems to scream louder and louder.
As the roars of the crowd crescendo behind the curtain, I scream with them as Romeo and I climax within seconds of one another.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Although I typically keep away from foul language as much as possible, there was no other way to describe the field day the tabloids had with our—I still blushed thinking about it—performance last night: it was a media shitstorm, the main rumor being was that we had sex on stage, which was at least partially true
Romeo had wrapped me up and taken me back to the hotel where we could rest for a day. I fell in and out of sleep, dreaming of our act on stage and waking up aroused every time. It was embarrassing, of course, to have done such a thing in front of people—actual people (that I knew, no less!)—but I couldn’t deny that it was the single most erotic thing I’d ever done in my life.
“I did promise you,” Romeo whispers as he kisses down the line of my neck.
I hum, un
able to even feign anger at him for his spontaneous decision to take me on stage. “I did challenge you.”
Romeo nods. “One might even say this was your idea.”
I laugh, batting at his arm. As much as we enjoyed our little stunt, we were going to have to deal with the consequences. I was expecting an enraged Santiago to show up anytime now, manifesting out of nowhere like some sort of mystical genie.
He doesn’t appear, though. Not that night, and not the next morning.
What does come is a phone call for Romeo—the stadium has booked him for two more nights and both nights have already sold out.
I gasp, practically squealing with delight as Romeo wraps me up in a tight hug and swings me around the room.
“And someone said you were bad for my career,” he says in between quick kisses that he lays on my mouth.
I stretch up to kiss him back, holding him to me longer and kissing him deeper. “I hope they’re not expecting a repeat performance.”
“No?” Romeo asks, teasingly.
“I think we might actually get arrested if we keep this up,” I say.
And as much as I know we would both love to give a repeat performance, public indecency was no laughing matter. Romeo suggest that he could call it art, and I laugh. That was a thin excuse, even for him.
We spend the rest of the day in bed until we absolutely have to drag ourselves up to drive back down to the stadium where Romeo would be playing his bonus, totally sold out show. Romeo needed a few hours for rehearsal and sound check, after all, and I had to prove to myself that I could show my face around all those eyes that had seen him make love to me—or I’d never work up the courage to go back there.
I’m brushing out the last kinks in my hair while Romeo heads downstairs to get the rental car when I hear sirens. I don’t think twice about it—ambulances and cops pass all the time—until the noise grows increasingly louder until it sounds like it’s literally right outside my window. I drop my hairbrush to peer out of the hotel window down into the parking lot.
The sight that greets me is utterly horrifying.
Logan, still bandaged from his hospital stay, is spitting out insults and curses at Romeo, who has his hands up in fists, but is stepping back to avoid having to get into another fight with Logan unless it’s completely unavoidable. Two squad cars have pulled up behind him, and police are spilling out with their Tasers pointed at Logan.
A glint of sunlight catches on something metal—in Logan’s hand in a long, sharp switchblade.
Not even bothering to grab my things, I dash out the door and take the stairs down to the ground floor—thankfully, we had only gotten a room on the second floor that night. By the time I reach the parking lot, Romeo has dropped his fists and Logan is being restrained by two buff police officers.
“What the hell is going on here!” I shout, sounding every bit as distressed as I feel.
Romeo wraps his arms around me, hugging me in close. I’m still shuddering from the unexpected sight of Logan here and the glistening blade of metal on the floor, kicked far away from him, but Romeo’s arms around me are just what I need.
“You can’t fucking ask me that!” Logan screams as he strains against the men holding him back. “You, bitch! You, getting fucked like a whore out in front of thousands of people!”
Romeo lets go of me, smoothing my hair back soothingly. He steps forward until he’s right in Logan’s face, leaning in menacingly.
“If you ever come near Erin again, you worthless piece of shit,” he says, his voice low and completely even, “I will not hesitate to put you down like a dog.”
I shiver. The threat reaches deep down inside of me and for one split second I almost expect to feel afraid of Romeo—but instead, all I feel is safe. He would protect me from anything, he would do anything to keep me safe.
The cops pull Logan away, kicking and cursing. I don’t spare him a second glance this time—he had gone too far, threatening Romeo’s life for something that was my decision.
Romeo wraps an arm around my shoulders again, hugging me closer to his side. “Do you need some time?”
I shake my head as the rental car I recognize as Dante’s pulls into the parking lot. Both he and Vince jump out, rushing to our sides.
“You okay, Erin?” Dante asks, regarding me first.
They both look at me the same way they look at Romeo when the band is deep in thought together, working up a new song or lyric—they look concerned, for me.
I smile at both of them in turn, and finally up at Romeo.
“I think we should be around friends.”
Backstage, I pace and fidget nervously as Romeo rehearses. It isn’t that anyone is treating me differently—no, in fact the roadies are treating me with more respect if possible. I’m as comfortable around them as I was before Romeo’s night with me on stage, but there’s another worry that I can’t shake from my mind.
In the midst of the previous night’s excitement, I had felt bold enough to make a very important decision regarding the added Atlanta shows. While Romeo was in the shower this morning after receiving the call about the additional concerts, I had called my father and invited him to come—to listen, and to perhaps even meet Romeo afterwards.
My father had agreed, of course, more than happy to finally meet the man I was so enamored with.
However, in the midst of the morning’s considerably more dangerous excitement, I had completely forgotten to tell Romeo about my guest visitor.
I knew tickets weren’t going to be a problem. Although the shows were already sold out, I was more than happy to give my father my own seat and watch from backstage for the night. But that didn’t mean Romeo wasn’t going to have a problem with this.
As he breaks to grab a drink of water, he catches me loitering by the edge of the stage, watching the first spectators of the night starting to filter into the stadium.
“What’s on your mind, bonita?” he asks as he wraps his arms loosely around my waist from behind.
I draw in a deep breath, deciding that it was now or never. “Romeo, I—.”
“Erin!”
I turn, suddenly, to look to my left where my father is briskly walking down the steps of the aisle leading to the stage. With an apologetic look to Romeo, I hop off of the stage to rush over to Dad, trying to get him to slow down—he isn’t a sprightly young athlete, after all.
Dad wraps me up in a tight hug as soon as I’m within arms’ reach. As he pulls back, his eyes gravitate to a spot over my shoulder, making me spin around to face Romeo’s confused, but amused, face.
“Is there someone you would like me to meet, Erin?” Romeo asks, that familiar teasing note back in his voice.
I blush, stepping back to get out of the way of the two men. “Romeo, this is—my father, Garrett Gouchet. Dad, this is Romeo Ortiz, my—.”
“Boyfriend,” Romeo says without hesitation as he extends a hand to my dad. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Now I see where Erin gets her good looks from.”
Dad laughs, taking the proffered hand and giving it a firm shake. “Well, you are quite a charmer, young man.”
I feel my cheeks heat up even more. Perhaps I did want my father to meet Romeo, but this was all so sudden. So embarrassing. I can’t help but smile, though, because they’re getting on fabulously. Dad thanks Romeo for the cigars and Romeo congratulates him on raising such a fine daughter. (They’re both careful not to mention Logan at all.)
Soon enough, Romeo is called away to get ready for the show. I lead my dad to his seat and make sure he’s comfortable, and taken care of by Maddie, the only one who was able to make it to the show that night, before I head backstage again as well.
Romeo is just about to head out when he spots me, stopping for a quick moment to tug me behind the curtains.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out before he can say anything. “I—should have told you I invited my father. I wanted him to see you sing, to understand how amazing you were in person. I didn’t
meant to force a meeting on you—I honestly wanted to ask.”
Romeo laughs, quietly, and tilts my head up to catch my mouth in a perfect, almost chaste kiss. “It was a pleasure meeting him, Erin. I meant every word. Now, your job is to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere—I’m taking you both out for dinner after tonight’s show.”
I stare at him for a while, disbelief flooding my mind. How could such a perfect man be mine?
He kisses me once more before disappearing to the stage, greeting the crowd as they roar for him.
I settle back in a seat that would let me see through the curtains, just enough to catch glimpses of Romeo moving around the stage. I smile and relax, allowing myself to imagine what a lifetime of this would be like.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Although the last show in Atlanta isn’t the last show in the tour, it felt like some sort of landmark—and we all felt it. The band and my girls all gather in the green room before the performance to open up a bottle of champagne, celebrating the grand success the tour has become.
Magazines are raving that no other band has ever had such a successful comeback. Fans are begging the Rocks to stay around forever. Even Santiago calls in before the show to tell them just how proud he was.
I laugh as I catch April and Dante smooching on the couch as I make my way back across the room to Romeo’s side with two fresh glasses of champagne. (Romeo, generally speaking, never drank before shows—but tonight was a special exception.) He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to his side as he speaks to a privileged reporter allowed to join us for an exclusive interview.
“I’d say it’s all thanks to this lovely woman here,” Romeo says, giving me a squeeze, “and not just for the obvious reasons.”
I smile up at him as he waggles his eyebrows at my teasingly before returning his full, serious attention to the reporter.
“She’s kept me going,” Romeo says as he curls his hand at my hip. “I never thought I would be so fortunate to have someone like her in my life, but—I guess I’m just a lucky man, huh?”
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