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Jet
Nash was in a deep conversation with Cora, who looked much better today. Rowdy was saying something to Jet, trying to get his attention. It was to no avail, because as soon as Jet’s gaze locked on Adam and me making our way over, those dark eyes went pitch-black and the gold on the outside started burning like embers. I had to swallow a lump in my throat, because for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why he was so mad. Before I could say anything, he pushed away from the table and stalked away without saying anything to me or anyone else.
I stiffened automatically when Shaw slipped away from Rule to wrap me in a hug. “Hey, girl, you look great.”
I cleared my throat and waved a hand around the table. “Adam, this is everyone, everyone, this is Adam.”
I didn’t wait to see if anyone talked to him. I focused my gaze on Rowdy and moved toward him with purpose. He was staring past me at Adam, and sucking on a Coors Light tall boy. I put myself right in his line of sight and crossed my arms over my chest.
“What’s Jet’s problem?” I was one second from tapping my toe like a disgruntled kid and I think he could tell, because he just smiled at me and tipped the beer up.
“You should probably ask him.”
Annoyed, I poked him in the center of his solid chest. “I’m asking you. He’s been acting pissed off all week. What’s going on with him?”
He moved the beer and narrowed his eyes at me. Rowdy was your typical blond-haired, blue-eyed, perfectly sculpted God’s gift to women, but there was always something lurking just below the surface of that ocean-colored gaze that let people know there was more to him than just an easy smile and a good time. There were depths beyond all that tattooed skin and perfectly coiffed hair. I didn’t know him as well as some of the others, but in him I felt a kindred spirit I didn’t bother to try to define.
“It’s Valentine’s Day, Ayd, and you showed up looking like a goddamn pinup model, on the arm of a guy that dresses like someone’s dad. Like I said, maybe you should go ask him what’s wrong. I think it’s long past time that the two of you have an honest conversation, before one of you—or both of you—end up doing some kind of irreparable damage to the other.”
I sucked in a hard breath between my teeth and put a hand on my racing heart. The opening band was starting their set, so I knew Jet would have gone backstage to make sure the band was getting ready to go. I looked over my shoulder and noticed that Adam was alternately looking at Rule like he was an alien from another planet, and at Shaw like she was crazy for cuddling up to him like he was a giant teddy bear. He just didn’t get it, and even if I had tried to make a relationship with him work, he never would have gotten it.
“Will they let me backstage to talk to him?”
“Sugar, looking the way you look right now, nobody in their right mind would try to stop you.”
I had to give him a smile for that. “Will you keep an eye on Adam? Make sure Rule doesn’t murder him or that Cora doesn’t convince him to do something stupid, like move to Antarctica.”
He nodded briefly and went back to his beer. “I got you covered, Ayd.”
I spun on my heel and dashed down the steps and across the wide general admission floor to the stairs at the side of the stage. The first band was playing and it was getting more crowded, so I had to wiggle and shimmy a little more than I planned. At the top of the stairs, the security guard tried to stop me from going by, but I told him I was with the band. I said that I was with Jet, and like Rowdy had said, the guy did a quick sweep of my outfit (and lingered on my legs) before letting me by. It took me a minute to find the right room, and when I did it, I found only Von and Catcher sitting in big leather chairs messing around with their instruments. They looked up at me in surprise and I felt my heart trip when I didn’t see Jet anywhere.
“Uh, hey.”
“Hey,” they chorused in unison.
“I’m, uh, looking for Jet. Have you seen him?” They shared a look that I didn’t understand, and Catcher cleared his throat. He inclined his head toward the door at the back of the room.
“He came in and smashed a bottle of Jameson against the wall. He went in there a few minutes ago.”
I looked at the door and back at them. If the door was locked and he didn’t let me in, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I stepped gingerly around the piles of cords and switches littering the floor. I was about to try to pull the door open when Von called out, “We sorta need him to get his shit together ASAP, so try not to get him even more riled up than he already is.”
I nodded absently and knocked lightly on the door. “Jet?”
There was no answer, but the knob turned easily under my hand, so I slipped in and silently prayed he wasn’t doing something that would embarrass us both. He had his back to me and was leaning over the sink staring at himself in the dingy mirror. His gaze snapped up to mine in the dirty glass and there was no misreading the hostility stamped on his handsome face or the wildness in those dark eyes. The gold rims were melting and hot, and he looked like he was on the very edge of losing control. His biceps flexed and tensed like he was going to pull the sink off the wall and hurl it.
“What do you want, Ayden?”
That was a loaded question if there ever was one.
“I just wanted to see what was wrong with you. You’ve been acting like you’re mad at me all week and I don’t understand why.”
I saw his hands tighten and his fingers flex. I also noticed that instead of his usual black nail polish, he had painted the middle fingernail on each hand the same bloodred as my dress. That shouldn’t be hot, but on him it just totally was.
“Why did you bring that guy to my show?” The bathroom felt stifling and small. I could sense the intensity of whatever he was feeling, vibrating across my skin. I had never seen him this raw unless he was on stage performing, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it in such close quarters.
“I didn’t bring him. We went to dinner and I was planning on getting dropped off, but he kind of freaked out when he saw everyone running around outside and insisted on coming in with me. What does that have to do with why you’re acting like such a prick toward me? You can’t be mad I’m hanging out with a guy I’ve been seeing for months, when you had a girl leave your room with her panties in her back pocket less than a week ago.” I paused.
“Come on, Jet, what gives?”
I thought maybe he was going to lay into me. I thought maybe he was going to tell me that I had no right to judge him. I thought maybe he was going to yell that I shouldn’t be bringing someone I knew he didn’t like around, when he was getting ready to play a big, important show.
What I wasn’t prepared for was for him to let go of his death grip on the sink and stalk toward me with fire and something else burning in his dark eyes. Or for rough hands heavy with rings pushing me back up against the bathroom door, and then traveling up higher, through my hair. Jet slammed his mouth down hard enough on mine that it made me whimper, and for a second I was so shocked all I could do was stand there and let him devour me with those hands I’d stared at for months and with a tongue that had the glide of metal in it.
By the time my brain reengaged, he was starting to pull away, but now that the seal had been broken there was no stopping the flood. Desire blazed first and foremost, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. keeping him right where he was. He tasted like whiskey and the sweetest kind of temptation there was. Lust had me pressing as close to him as I could and I felt his knee slide up under the skirt of my dress. The shock from the contrast of cold and hot as the barbell he had through his tongue moved back and forth across my own, made me gasp. That only gave him better access to everything he was trying to invade. On my tiptoes now, all of the best parts of him were pressing hard and insistent against all the wanting parts of me, and I couldn’t ever remember a simple kiss being something as powerful as this.
I didn’t want to let him go.
Chapter 4
Jet
I was living in a state of perpetual fury. I was still furious that my narcissistic and overbearing father thought he could blackmail me, using my mom. I was livid that my mom would let him use her like that. I was incensed that I couldn’t get Ayden out of my head, and I was just flat-out angry that it mattered to me whether she wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with me or with Mr. Perfect. As a result I was acting like an asshole to anyone and everyone that dared cross my path the past few days. The guys in the band were sick of my shit and if Rowdy told me to just take her to bed and get it over with one more time, I was pretty sure I was going to knock all his front teeth out.
All I wanted to do was get through the show, figure out what I was going to do about my folks, and maybe set up a short tour so I could get out of town and put some distance between me and a certain brunette who was buried under my skin.
But then she had to show up in a bloodred dress, looking like she just stepped off the pages of a hot-rod magazine, with that sweater-vest-wearing douche trailing behind her like a lost dog. She was just too much for me to handle at the moment. Those endless legs and bright-red lips had my head going to all kinds of places it shouldn’t. She was there with a date, so I walked away in the middle of whatever Rowdy was trying to tell me, and headed to the band room backstage. The rest of the guys were warming up and getting ready, but the idea of going onstage while I felt so volatile made something inside me snap. I grabbed the closest thing to me—a bottle of whiskey I had been drinking from earlier—and chucked it against the wall.
The guys all stopped what they were doing and watched me with curious and careful eyes. I felt like I was about to fly apart into a million pieces, so I just barked, “Not right now!” and decided to barricade myself in the bathroom until I managed to pull it together.
I was breathing hard and I could see how wild my dark eyes looked in the mirror. I was just about to splash cold water on my face to try to get some level of control back, when I heard my name, spoken in a soft Southern drawl, from the other side of the door. I was going to growl at her to leave me alone, but I didn’t get a chance, because she pulled the door open and met my gaze in the mirror. All I could do was stare at her while everything swirling under the surface suddenly broke through. I heard her ask me what was wrong, and was aware that I demanded to know what she was thinking by bringing that guy here.
But all of it was white noise against the roar of something far louder and far more powerful thrumming in my heated blood.
I wasn’t aware of moving toward her. I wasn’t aware of pushing her up against the door with the entire length of my body. I wasn’t aware of tangling her silky dark hair around my fingers and getting it caught up in my rings. I heard her gasp when my tongue ring hit the warm center of her mouth. I was going to pull away, going to apologize over and over again and tell her it had just been a shitty week, but before I could, she wrapped her arms around my neck and I felt any resistance she had, any control I retained, melt away under a soft little murmur of pleasure.
We were exactly at the right height for me to get my knee between her amazing legs and press even more fully against her, as she collapsed against the door behind her. She tasted like wine and invitation and I was pretty sure both things were going to my head. When she whispered my name, any rational thought that I shouldn’t be touching this girl in this way, especially not in a backstage bathroom, went out the window.
The fingers of one of her hands moved from my neck and crawled down the back of my T-shirt. Even though it felt better than anything I could remember in a long time, to be pressed head to toe against her wasn’t enough, so I let go of her hair and moved my hands under the hem of her poufy skirt. Gripping her toned thigh, I expected more resistance when I wrapped it around my waist and trailed my eager fingers up to the part of her I had no business at all being anywhere near. It was a short trip met with zero resistance and little gasps of surprise.
I saw her amber eyes get wide, but instead of asking me to stop or telling me to go to hell, she whispered my name. I felt the edge of her fingers dig into the base of my spine, right above my ass.
We were eye to eye, foreheads almost touching, and I could see every single reaction she had to my touch shimmering in those liquid depths. When I got my fingers under the edge of her lace panties, I saw something flare there that made my already hard dick get even harder. I knew it sure as hell wasn’t very comfortable. She shivered, and I didn’t know if it was from the press of the metal on my fingers against her bare skin or because I had her pinned and exposed and was about to touch her in ways I had only dreamed of. Either way, her other hand tightened almost painfully in my tousled hair and her bright eyes fell to half-mast. She tugged my head closer, so our mouths were lined up and she kissed me. I got inside all her wet heat, her mouth and more, and swore because she was hot and slippery and felt like molten fire against both my tongue and my questing fingers.
I leaned down so that my forearm was braced on the door above her head, and settled even more fully into her. My tongue ring clicked against her teeth and I pulled away to suck on the pulse that was rapidly fluttering right below her ear. Her hands were tense in my hair and on my skin. I moved my fingers in and out of her, and slicked over the part of her that was throbbing and burning for my touch. Every whimper, every gasp made me move faster, made me touch her in a way that was guaranteed to send her over the edge. I felt her flutter against my fingers and moved back to kiss her hard and fast, just before she went limp and her eyes burst into a fireworks display of desire and satisfaction. Her chest was moving rapidly up and down, and clarity was slowly starting to filter back in, when a fist pounded on the door behind her lax head and made her jump.
“Jet, man, we go on in, like, ten minutes. Can you stop acting like a spaz and get out here so we can do this shit?” Von’s voice was irritated and I couldn’t blame him. I was acting erratic, and we did have a huge crowd out there that had paid good money to see us perform.
I pulled her from against the door and let my hands fall away from her. She leaned back and we watched each other warily, without saying a word. I ran my hands over my face, which was a mistake because I smelled like her, and it was doing nothing to tame the more than uncomfortable situation I had going on in my pants. They were already tight; she’d made them unbearable.
“I have to go.”
She sucked her plush bottom lip between her teeth, and all I wanted to do was find the closest flat surface and demand she put that pretty mouth to better use.
“Jet?” I didn’t have the time or the wherewithal to get into any of the consequences of this little dalliance with her, so I just shook my head and reached around her for the doorknob. .
“Look, we both know that’s what a guy like me has to offer, a quick fuck in a bathroom backstage, and we both know you deserve a night in a king-sized bed with silk sheets. I’m not going to apologize, but I can tell you it won’t happen again. All right?”
I thought she was going to look remorseful or ashamed; I wasn’t prepared for her to be mad. Those whiskey eyes lit with a fire I had never seen in her and before I could react, she slapped me across the face hard enough to make my back teeth rattle and my face flame.
“What the fuck, Ayd!”
She brushed down her dark cap of hair, and turned to pull the door open herself. I hated that I loved how wrinkled and well-loved she looked, and that I was the one who had gotten her all messy and rumpled.
“In case you forgot, I offered you a night in a king-sized bed with silk sheets, asshole. You turned me down. You told me I wasn’t the type. If you took a freaking second to stop trying to tell me what I do and don’t deserve, maybe you could see that the location doesn’t matter, but the person does.”
She had stunned me into silence, but she was good and pissed and clearly not done.
“And just so you know, I broke it off with Adam yesterday because every time he tried to touch me, every time he tried to kiss me I had to pretend it was you to even fake getting through it. But you’re right, Jet, it won’t happen again, because you don’t know half of what you think you know about me. Every time I think you’re figuring it out or at least trying to, you just end up making me feel like an idiot.”
She threw the door open in a swirl of red and righteous indignation. The guys in the band were all staring at me with knowing looks, as she swept out of the room like a regal goddess. I saw Von open his mouth, but I just squinted my eyes and pointed a finger in his direction. “Don’t even start.”
I picked up my electric Les Paul and fit the strap over my shoulder. I shook my head to try to get my brains and my libido to settle back down, and shoved a guitar pick between my teeth.
“I wanna start with something a little different. You guys think you can just follow me in?”
We had played together for years, and there hadn’t ever been a time when I had spontaneously changed up a set that they hadn’t been able to just fall in line or pick up the rhythm and follow my lead. Boone narrowed his eyes at me and picked up his bass.
“It’s going to be one of those shows?”
I blew out a breath and tried not to think about how good Ayden felt, how perfect she had tasted and moved against me. Granted, I had had a thing for her for a hell of a long time, but I hadn’t been prepared for the reality to profoundly beat the crap out of the fantasy. She was a girl who wanted things in life I was never going to be able to give her. It shouldn’t make me go sideways every time we were close, when I knew that nothing was ever going to come of it. While I wasn’t opposed to being any pretty girl’s good time, something told me that when she walked away after having her fun, she would be taking with her more of me than I wanted to give.
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