A Postseason One Novella: Rock F*ck Club, #2 Read online

  "I need to go.” Lucky spun me in front of him and pressed a soft kiss to my slightly parted lips. “Don’t wander too far.” He unthreaded our joined fingers and untethered me.

  "Go. They need you.” I let him go, pretending the separation didn’t make my chest hurt. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll find your sister and check on her." And I wanted to find that piano. Sure my palms were abraded from the fall, but I felt like I needed my fingers on the ivory and ebony to exorcise some of my melancholy. Get my emotions out in the open where I could process and try to make sense of them. Creating music had always been cathartic for me. Lucky and I had that in common. Mine had been dammed up inside of me until he had come along and helped me reopen the floodgates.

  Lucky gave me a grateful look before he jogged away. I watched him, reluctant to let him go even visually. The maroon button down shirt with the botanical print flowed freely across his wide shoulders like the rivulets of water had after his shower. Though it lent a vintage vibe to his already compelling appearance, I knew he would shed it before taking the stage later tonight. Another something I would miss. My gaze dropped lower to his ass in his black leather pants. That view held me captive for a couple of additional beats. And then there was his cocky stride. Where his best friend walked with precision and economy, Lucky glided, his movements so smooth and rhythmic I could almost hear the soundtrack that must have been playing inside his head.

  When he reached the stage, Lucky took the stairs to the top two at a time. He took his guitar from his guitar tech and strapped it on. Noticing me, not that he could he miss me standing in the center of the hall, star struck as I was by him, he gave me a chin lift of acknowledgement and went straight to work. Lucky might not give Charles Morris every little concession the CEO of Zenith Productions wanted when he wanted it, but he gave his fans all he had to give every single night. He would never let them down. His habit was to lead the guys through at least a couple of bars of each song on their set list. Once upon a time when I had first seen the Dragons I had thought they needed polishing. I didn’t think that anymore.

  I watched the first song pass the lead singer’s muster. On the next, he had Cody tighten his chords. The second run through showed a notable improvement. Lucky had a keen ear. It would be a letdown, a major one, to miss the payoff tonight in front of a real audience. Feet dragging my heavy heart with them, I turned and went to find Sky. I didn’t have far to go. She was on the other side of the hall in the ornate lobby. The merch area was just to the right in a small alcove at the top of a carpeted staircase. Knowing there was a lot more to set up now that her designs and the guys’ slogans had been incorporated into t-shirts, key chains, stickers and silicon concert bracelets, I got right to work alongside her, opening up the bins and helping her arrange everything.

  "Hey,” I said when we were finished. “I’m gonna take off and explore.” I acted nonchalant as if Lucky's voice drifting to us from the adjacent hall didn’t send chills up my spine. “You gonna be ok by yourself for a while?"

  "You know I will be.” She gave me a firm look. “I can take care of myself." Apparently my gentle nudge had taken hold.

  I gave her an approving nod.

  "I left everything you need for Lucky in the dressing room. It's the third door down the hall behind the stage. I noticed it has a lock on the door." Her eyes sparkled. I think she well suspected what I had planned. I wondered if she knew the whole of it. I was going to attempt to use sex to leverage Lucky into keeping me on the tour. "I’ll do the guys’ makeup out here and keep them away as long as I can, but you can’t do his makeup. He wants to take you to the airport on the Ducati. His helmet would smear everything. But you could do something else if you’d like. I’ve been trying for ages to get him to paint his nails black."

  "That would look cool when he’s onstage wearing all of his silver rings."

  "I thought so, as well, but he’s been resistant. Maybe you can convince him."

  “I’ll try.” I squeezed her hand to confirm, then I scooted through the six inch gap between the counter and the wall. I knew exactly how long sound checks lasted. I had thirty minutes of time to kill.

  I continued down a long hall, turned right down another one and found the piano waiting in a ten by ten foot space right next to the dressing room. The shelves beside it were lined with songbooks. The church's pianist had probably used the room for lessons. I closed the door and pulled out the bench. The piano, a glossy upright, played like a dream. Lost in the new melody that sounded so much better on an actual piano than it had on the band’s keyboard, I didn’t hear the timer on my cell go off. I also didn’t hear Lucky come in until I saw his reflection in the high gloss finish. He leaned against the door jamb with one booted foot casually hooked over the other. He beckoned me to come to him with a single crook of his first finger. I closed the piano, stood and crossed to him refitting myself to his side. His hands settled on my hips. He gazed down at me without speaking as if he didn’t want to spoil the moment with words and was savoring the view of my face. I was certainly staring at him and doing the same.

  “We’ve got a dressing room all to ourselves,” I said after the moment stretched on and I remembered how little time we had left. “Sky’s going to do the guys’ makeup at the merch booth.” His eyes flared. Apparently, the idea of having some privacy excited him, too. “We didn’t have time to say goodbye properly earlier, and I wondered if you might like to do that.”

  “Lead the way,” he cut in before I could ramble more. So I did. I didn’t need a directional sign to know where to go. It was just a matter of stepping back out into the hall and dipping into the next room. But a deeper meaning hit me and gave me pause because I knew that when it came to him I didn’t require any instruction at all. I loved him. My heart was meant to be his, and I would take him anyway I could get him. Sure, it would be stressful trying to find the right groove for our relationship given the lifestyles we both led. But no matter how crowded or crazy it got there was no other place I would rather be than by his side. No other man I wanted but him. My heart had known almost from the beginning that he was the one, though it had taken my brain a little while to reach that conclusion so soon after Ivan’s betrayal.

  "No. Absolutely not." Lucky shook his head when he saw the table and the bottles of nail polish lined up beside his leather necklace, bracelets and rings. "No way."

  "Aw, c'mon,” I coaxed. “Your sister thinks it would be really cool, and so do I. Why don’t we give it a try? If you don’t like the way it looks, it's easy to remove."

  "I can think of better things to do with twenty minutes," he growled.

  "So can I.” A shiver rolled through me. We had learned to be fast and creative on this tour. Behind speakers. In storage closets. Lucky could make me come twice in the amount of time we had left. “If we get started I can do the polish and whatever else you would like.” I wanted to do this, wanted him to remember me every time he looked down at his hands. Plus, I wanted an opportunity to tell him everything that was inside my heart.

  "Alright, let’s do it.” He took a seat across from me as he picked up the jewelry and put it on. The long leather necklace he doubled around his neck twice. The assortment of heavy silver bracelets he fastened to his wrists. "But matte black only, no glitter or sparkles."

  "Ok." My lips twitched as I watched him slide the lion’s head ring on his index finger and the coin edged one on his thumb. "I can make that concession. I’m willing to negotiate.” I reached for the matte black bottle and met his gaze across the table. “Compromise is supposed to be good for relationships, you know.”

  “Raven,” he warned, his expression hard. “That discussion is closed. You go until it’s safe for you to return. It’s not up for debate.”

  "Licorice shade no sparkle it is." The thickness in my voice betrayed my disappointment. I swallowed to loosen the tangle, realizing that the little chance I thought I might have to change his mind before I left was actually none. Blinking to clea
r the burn from my gaze, I shook the bottle of polish, unscrewed the lid, pulled out the wand and wiped off the excess on the glass rim. “Give me your hand, please.” His gaze on mine he stretched out his arm and extended his hand. I took it, stroking the underside with my thumb. His ice blue eyes darkened to a deep sapphire. My breath caught on the longing that swelled inside my chest. “You’ll need to keep it steady for me.”

  “I can keep it steady all night long.”

  I arched a brow. “I know you can.” Lowering my gaze, I focused on his hand. His nails were blunt edged and nicely trimmed. I felt the electrical hum I always felt when we touched.

  "I love how you do that." He felt it, too, that awareness, the desire vibrating between us.

  "Do what?" I lifted my gaze and pretended not to understand as I continued to caress his skin with the pad of my thumb under the pretense of separating his fingers for the polish.

  "Look deeply into my eyes like you are right now while touching me that way."

  “Oh.” My cheeks flushed. “I’m glad you love it.” I lowered my gaze, brushed on four careful strokes on his first finger and paused to admire it. “It’s a compulsion. I can’t help myself when I’m with you.” He had his ways of expressing his love, and I had mine. I returned the wand to the bottle, dipped it, reduced the excess and started on his thumb.

  "It’s sexy like you are, Angel.” His approval and the deep rumble of his voice lit a roaring fire in the hearth of my heart. “Don’t ever stop.”

  "I won’t.” Didn’t he know that I couldn’t stop? Bottom lip between my teeth, I refocused and brushed a couple of strokes onto his thumb, then got more polish and went to work on his middle finger. Slender and long, my breath caught as I held it. In our bunk, not even hours ago, he’d had that finger inside me. Remembering, I overshot the edge of his nail and had to use my own to scrape away the polish from his skin.

  "Raven." He lifted my chin. "What were you thinking just now?"

  "I was thinking about you." I met his gaze, and his question unflinchingly. "What your finger feels like when you slide it inside me." I felt the sudden stillness in him. I held my breath as I brushed my thumb along the length of his middle digit while holding his gaze.

  "Raven. Fuck." The blaze in his eyes incinerated me.

  "You always know just how to move it.” I gave him my sultry tone. “And you always apply just the right amount of pressure in just the right spot." I knew what I was doing. Teasing. Titillating. But I pretended I didn’t hear his heavy breathing or the thundering of my own heartbeat. I dropped my gaze, dipped the applicator, swiped off the excess and moved to his ring finger. I brushed on more polish. Then I finished his pinky. One hand done, I returned the wand to the bottle.

  "What do you think?" I lifted my gaze, but he wasn’t looking at the black nails on his sexy hand, that in my opinion just cranked his rock star amp up to eleven. He was staring at me, and his gaze was heated.

  "I’m thinking time’s up in the nail salon.” He threw back his chair. “And that you’re about to get shagged.”

  "You'll mess up your polish." I jumped back from the table as he stalked me, his intention clear.

  "Don’t care."

  "You're in leather pants. Those are hard to get off," I reminded him, remembering our first time in Boston.

  "No need to take them all the way off, Angel." He was directly in front of me now. We were less than an inch apart. I could feel his heat. It rolled off him in tantalizing waves.

  Yes, now, please. “Do it then,” I challenged. “What are you waiting for?”

  "At your service, Angel." He plunged the hand I hadn’t yet painted into my hair. He yanked my face up to his. He nipped me with the edge of his teeth before his tongue invaded my mouth. Rapid thrusts. Hard thrusts. Deep ones, he kissed me like he planned to fuck me. And I was totally with him. My hands rushed all over him. Sculpted arms. Solid chest. His smooth skin. Everywhere I could reach, I memorized with my touch. My legs trembled when he broke the seal between our lips.

  "Get ready,” he warned, walking me backward until my retreat ended at a wall. "For more than just my finger.” His sensual lips curled. His eyes pierced mine. “But since I fancy the polish, you’ll have to get me ready. Unlace my pants," he ordered in a commanding tone I couldn’t resist.

  “Alright.” I smoothed my hands down his narrow hips and long legs as I lowered myself to the floor. The concrete was cold beneath my bent knees even through my jeans, but his heated gaze warmed me. My mouth went dry as I reached for him and traced his exquisite length. He hissed in a sharp breath. I glanced up, met his gaze and licked my lips while I slowly unlaced the front of his leather pants. He shuddered when I freed him.

  "Up, temptress.” He had to tug on my hair to get me to stand. "I know what you’re thinking, but I wouldn’t last longer than three seconds with your wet lips around my cock.” His eyes glittered. “You wanted to play, It’s time to play." He took my mouth, wet and raw, no holding back this time. I loved it. I was panting when he released me. "Get your jeans undone." He stamped his hands to the wall on either side of my head. "Now," he growled, staring at me, his gaze dark as he watched me lower my zipper. "Thong, too. To your thighs. That’s far enough." He adjusted his hips. The head of his cock nudged me between my legs. I reached for it. I wanted to touch him, wanted to run my fingers along his satiny hot steely length. I wanted him inside me. His lids lowered as I stroked him firmly from root to tip the way I knew he liked it. "That feels good." He peered at me through the thick fringe of his lashes. "Going to put it in you now, Angel. Make it good for both of us. Turn around. Hands on the wall.”

  I complied, and he gathered my tee, lifted it up baring my skin to the middle of my back and smoothed his palm over my flesh. “Be a good girl. Brace and bend for me."

  “Lucky,” I breathed, being a good girl and doing what he wanted, what I wanted. I was so exposed in this position, so turned on, so ready. “Please.”

  "You have such a lovely round ass, Raven." He grabbed my hips in his strong grip, yanked me backward and rammed his entire length inside me. My feet still in my shoes skidded forward from the force of his entry. I hissed from the pleasure-pain, a stinging and a stretching from his thick cock that felt so good. “You’re so wet, so tight around me.” He made an approving humming sound, gliding smoothly nearly all the way out until only the head remained then sliding back inside me.

  I moaned. He was so big, and he filled me so good. His grip tightened on the skin at my hips. He picked up the pace, deepening the penetration and fucking me so hard he lifted me onto the tips of my toes.

  “Lucky, yes!” My hands braced on the wall, I took what he gave. In and out he went over and over again. My skin got all warm and shivery. My cunt was completely soaked. I surfed the crest of pleasure as he pounded his hard cock into me. "So good,” I praised as he thrust inside. “You feel so good. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop. I’m so close."

  He didn’t talk. Breathing hard, he fucked me harder. Deeper. Faster. He took me right there. Straight to the edge. I careened along it. He stiffened, and I sailed right off with him. Freefalling. Chanting his name. No net. No fear of the future. Just the here and now and this pure, hot, decadent pleasure.

  I TURNED MY head to receive the proprietary kiss he pressed to my lips. Lushness. Warmth. Perfection.

  He pulled out, stepped away and returned with some tissues. I cleaned up while he refastened the ties on his pants. He watched me closely as I straightened my clothes and finger combed my hair into a long French braid. My cell went off from where I had left it on the table. A reminder notification. My chest tight, I crossed to my phone, unlocked it and shut the reminder off before it could ring again.

  "What was the alarm for?"

  "My flight." My gaze lifted to meet his. "I was afraid I might get distracted."

  "You were right." He eliminated the space between us. He placed his large hands low on my hips. I’d have bruises there from what we had done tomorrow.
But I had absolutely zero regrets. Knowing I drove him wild made me wild. The afterglow of lovemaking with Lucky usually made me smile, but now I felt a dismayed frown threatening to form. "It’s time for you to go, Angel."

  "Not yet." Sadness. Resignation. Helplessness. My heart hurt. Love shouldn’t feel like this.

  "But Raven..." He trailed off as I covered his mouth with my fingers. Renewed desire flooded me when he pressed his lush lips to my skin. But I had to set passion aside. I had indulged that need. Now it was time for the rest. "That was only the first alarm. I programmed a second one. I want to finish your polish." I stretched my arm out gesturing to the table. "Sit back down.” That frown I’d been holding back broke out when he didn’t move. “You know it’ll drive Alec nuts if you go out on stage tonight with only one hand painted. It won’t take long."

  "Sky can do it." He was putting me off.

  "Your sister has plenty of other things to do. We need to talk."

  "We can talk on the phone when I can’t touch you."

  "We can. I hope we do. But I need to talk to you and touch you for these last few minutes we have together.”

  "Alright, Raven." His brow dipped as he grabbed the back of the chair. He turned it around backwards and straddled it, sinking slowly onto it bringing images to mind that made me hot and shivery again. The effect was magnified by his heated gaze.

  “Stop looking at me like that, Lucky. You know we don’t have that kind of time anymore.”

  "I would rather have our last few moments together spent doing something enjoyable."

  It hurt my heart that he was trying so hard to avoid this conversation. Breaking the connection between our gazes, I tried to regroup my thoughts as I took a seat in the chair opposite him. "Hand, please," I requested, head bowed to hide the flood of emotion in my eyes.