“Do I live in Seattle?” I respond and wrinkle my nose at him. “Duh.”
He laughs, and we settle in and watch the band, the people milling about. No one is paying us any attention, and I can’t help but think that hiring security was a bit over the top.
No one even cares that we’re here.
Our drinks and food arrive, and Leo leans in to yell into the waitress’s ear. She smiles and nods and turns away.
“What did you say to her?” I ask loudly and shove a delicious potato skin piled with sour cream into my mouth.
“You’re so classy.” He laughs and wipes a glob of sour cream from my lip.
“I know.” I shrug and keep eating.
“I told her to let the band’s people know I’m here.”
“Oh, cool.” We eat and listen, people-watch.
Glancing at Leo, I see a trail of sweat drip down his neck.
“You’re sweating.” I frown. “Take your beanie off, babe.”
He shakes his head and looks around the room. “Not yet.”
He’s completely over-reacting. “No one here has even looked at you twice,” I remind him.
“Not yet,” he says again and reaches for a cheese stick.
“We should offer Thing One and Thing Two some food.” There is still a ton of food that we’ll never be able to finish.
He smiles down at me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “They’re about to earn their paychecks.”
Just then the band ends a song and starts talking to the audience. “Hey, Seattle, are you having a fuckin’ good time yet?”
The crowd goes crazy, screaming and whooping, and I grin. I love live shows.
“What would you say if I told you I have a surprise for you?” the lead singer asks and takes a long swig of water. More cheers. “An old friend of mine is here.”
“That’s our cue,” Leo murmurs to me and nods to security. “Come on.”
“I’m not going onstage,” I protest, and he laughs.
“No, you’re going to be in the wings. I don’t want you in this crowd.” We join our burly security. “I want you guys to escort her to the wings. They’re expecting you and will show you where to go.”
They nod and off we go through the crowd.
“Have you guys heard of a little band called Nash?”
The crowd explodes in applause and cheers.
“How about the ugly front guy they have, Leo?”
We are led to the right side of the stage and through a door and to an immediate left, and I’m told to stay right here, behind a black curtain. I’m looking onto the stage and can see the whole band.
“Well,” the singer continues, “I knew Leo back in the day when he was just singing around Seattle, and it just so happens that he’s in town and has dropped by to see us!”
He has to stop speaking because the cheers are deafening. I can’t help but bounce on the balls of my feet in excitement. My throat clenches in joy, and I grasp my hands together, holding them against my chest.
Suddenly, from the other side of the stage, Leo hops up and joins the singer, giving him a real hug and whispering in his ear. He’s pulled his beanie off, showing his messy light brown hair and piercings. He’s still in his blazer, but he takes it off and throws it offstage to someone in the wings.
The girls scream some more as he stands there in just his Levi’s tee, the sleeves hugging his muscular, tattooed arms. Dear Lord, he’s beautiful.
And completely in his element.
He’s grinning widely, waving and nodding at the crowd, and he takes a mic when it’s offered to him.
“Hey, Seattle!”
More screams, and I clap along with the crowd. Leo turns his head and finds me behind the black curtain and winks.
“So, bro, what do you want to do?” his friend asks him.
“Well…I don’t know.” He frowns and looks out at the fans. “Do you guys want to hear something?”
Well, that’s a stupid question. The girls go mad, and Leo laughs.
“You’re welcome to borrow my guitar, man.”
“Nah.” Leo shakes his head and motions to the piano. “Can I jack your piano?”
“Anything you want.”
The pianist stands and bows to Leo, and the whole band exits the stage, saying hi to me as they pass, and Leo is alone onstage. Whoever is running the lights points a spotlight on him, dimming the rest of the stage.
I can’t look away. I can’t blink.
“So, this is a new song,” he begins, adjusting the mic on the stand and settling behind the piano. “Would you like to hear it?”
“I love you, Leo!” a girl screams drunkenly from the front row.
“Thank you, sugar.” He winks at her, chuckles and begins to noodle the keys, warming his hands. “I’m gonna slow things down a bit. This song is called Sunshine.”
He plays the lead-in. It’s soft and sweet and glaringly familiar to me.
And then he starts to sing.
I don’t wanna be your friend
’Cause I’ve already let you in
Every time I see your sweet blue eyes
I know I need to make you mine
My walls crumble… And crumble
So all you see is the real me
I’m stunned. It’s me. He’s singing about me. And the music is the music he wrote when I was sick, when we were at the piano together.
He hits the hook, and my heart swells to almost bursting.
I wrote that music.
I had no idea he was writing a song about me. Or that it would turn into a song at all. I thought he was just playing around while he was bored and taking care of me.
He wrote a fucking song for me.
When you smile
Your sunshine hits me
And the shadows in my soul
They are gone
Oh how many times
Have I stared at your lips
Wishing I could feel them on me
When you’re so close
Baby, I forget how to breathe
He looks up at me and pins me with those deep gray eyes. His look is fierce and possessive, and then one side of his mouth tips up as he leads back into the chorus.
When you smile
Your sunshine hits me
And the shadows in my soul
They are gone
When I run my hand
Over your perfect skin
I know you see me
And not what I’m covered in
My walls crumble… And crumble
So all you see is the me I need you to see
I feel the tears tumble over onto my cheeks, but can’t move to brush them away. His voice is surrounding me, cocooning me in its warmth, in the tenderness of the words, in the sweet music from the piano.
Can’t play well, my ass. I bet he does everything well.
Finally the song comes to an end, and he takes a deep breath and grins at the audience. He stands and waves, gives a small bow, and runs off the stage to me, scooping me up into his arms.
“Oh my God!” I exclaim and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Did you like it?” he asks and leans back to look into my eyes.
“It’s fantastic,” I respond and kiss him soundly.
“It’s yours.”
“I hope so, or I’d have to cut a bitch,” I immediately respond, and he lets out a belly laugh, holding me tightly against him. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever been given, thank you,” I murmur in his ear, and he grins widely. Proudly.
“Let’s go backstage.” He pulls me behind him as the band resumes their place onstage to finish out their set. I didn’t even notice that the security twins had been standing behind me the whole time, and they follow us now. One of them hands Leo his jacket.
There is a decent-size group of people backstage waiting for the band. Some in business attire, who I assume are industry people. Some look like family members or friends of the band.
And there are
more than a few groupies.
Leo leads me in, my hand gripped firmly in his, and begins introducing me to people he knows. I’ll never remember their names or even their faces, but the fact that he keeps me next to him and includes me in every conversation says a lot about this man.
He cares about me.
The band comes barreling in the room, reaching for beers and high-fiving each other, obviously happy with their show.
The room is electric with energy.
“Dude!” The lead singer charges for us and tackles Leo in a hug. “Nice song, bro.” He winks at Leo and smiles down at me. “I’m Lance.”
“Sam,” I respond and shake his hand.
“How long are you in town?” he asks Leo.
“Awhile. We’re recording the next album here,” Leo responds. “I’d like you to come in and help out on a few tracks.”
Lance’s eyes spark with interest, and he grins. “Done.”
“Cool.”
“Great show, babe.” A pretty redhead hugs Lance from behind, and he turns to pull her in his arms.
“Thanks, my love. Tash, this is Leo and Sam. Leo, you remember my wife.”
“Of course. Hey, Tash.” Leo leans in and kisses her cheek.
“Hey, so great to see you!” I immediately like her. She’s someone I would hang out with, down-to-earth and nice and not fawning all over the Leo Nash.
The happy couple turns to mingle with the other after-show guests, and Leo grins at me. “Having fun?”
“I am.” I nod and glance around the room. “It’s more laid-back than I expected.”
“Security will start letting some fans back in a few minutes for photos and autographs.” He shrugs. “It’ll get louder.”
“Well, hello.” A busty brunette in a black halter-top tight enough to showcase her paid-for tits and a black skirt that barely covers her ass is suddenly pressed against Leo’s other side. “Looking for a good time, Mr. Nash?”
Leo frowns at her, and I feel my eyes narrow. The bitch has balls. I’ll give her that.
She’s also repulsive.
These groupies are so not like the overzealous fan-girls I’m used to. They’re clearly not here just because of their love of the music or the work. They’re here to fuck a band member.
That’s it.
I think I just threw up a little in my mouth.
“Do you not see me holding my girlfriend’s hand?” Leo asks, his voice cold.
“I can do a threesome, if that’s what you’re into.” She grins and rubs her tits against his arm.
I can’t help it, the laugh bursts out of me, and I double over. I have to release Leo’s hand so I can hold my stomach, I’m laughing so hard.
She’s so pathetic she’s hilarious.
I look up into Leo’s laughing eyes. He has a wide grin and is ignoring the offended woman still plastered to his side. She’s scowling at me, and that makes me laugh harder.
“Are you okay, sunshine?” Leo asks with a chuckle as I straighten and finally take a deep breath.
I wipe the tears from under my eyes, thanking God for waterproof mascara, and nod.
“Is this what you were talking about earlier? Girls like this?”
He just shrugs and nods.
“Yeah, I’m so not worried.” Now the bimbo’s eyes narrow on me, and I chuckle again.
“Fuck you,” she flings at me and props her hand on her hip, still pressing herself to Leo’s side.
“You’re touching something that’s not yours,” I tell her with a wide smile.
“I don’t see a ring on his finger.” She smirks.
“Wouldn’t matter to you if you did,” I remind her, and she nods thoughtfully.
“True.”
Leo is watching the exchange like it’s a tennis match, his head bouncing back and forth. Finally, he raises an eyebrow at the slut and pulls away from her.
“I won’t be requiring your services, but I’m sure one of the other unattached guys will take you up on it.”
“But I want to say I fucked Leo Nash.” She pouts. “Come on. I’ll let the bitch join in.”
I laugh again and then clasp my hand over my mouth as Leo glares daggers at the less-than-intelligent woman.
“I didn’t fuck trash like you when I was single. Why would I start now?” He turns his back on her and tips my chin up with his finger. “Wanna get out of here?”
“We don’t have to leave just because of that,” I assure him, my voice light. “I told you earlier, I don’t care.”
He leans in until his mouth is pressed to my ear and whispers, “I don’t give a fuck about her either, sweetheart. I’m ready to take you home, get you naked and have you beneath me.”
My breath catches in my lungs. “Well, when you put it like that, yeah, let’s go.”
Leo waves at Lance, who nods in acknowledgment, and calls out goodbyes to the rest of the band. Security escorts us through the back door into the refreshing cool winter air and to Leo’s Camaro.
He starts the car and pulls away from the curb.
“That was fun.” I turn in my seat so I can see him, watching the street lights flash over his face and reflect off the metal in his ear and lip.
“Yeah, it was,” he agrees. “You weren’t kidding. The groupies don’t bother you.”
“They’re gross.” I wrinkle my forehead. “Why would anyone fuck that? Who knows where her pussy has been, not to mention her mouth. Ew.” I shudder and make gagging noises. “Seriously, that’s just not sanitary.”
Leo throws his head back and laughs.
“How many groupies did you fuck in your day? And don’t tell me you can’t count that high. You’re smart.”
“So not answering that question.” He shakes his head.
“No, really.”
“Sam, there are some questions a woman should never ask. Asking a famous musician how many women he’s banged is one of them.”
“Just give me an estimate.”
“How many men have you fucked?” he asks, frowning at me.
“I asked you first.” I grin, enjoying his discomfort.
“I fucked the groupies back in the day. It’s been awhile.” He shrugs. “Who knows how many?”
“But no kissing and no oral?” I ask, remembering what Meg said at dinner the other night.
“No, too personal.”
“Just a quick fuck then.”
“Samantha…” And I know this is as far as he’s willing to take his side of the conversation, so I let him off the hook.
“Six,” I state.
“Six what?” he asks.
“I’ve had sex with six guys, including you.” I smile smugly at him and wait for his reaction.
“You’ve only had sex with six guys?”
“Hey, that’s a decent number. Enough to know what I like, but not so many that I’m like a fast-food drive-through.”
Leo laughs again and smiles over at me. “I’ve had sex with more than six women.”
“I figured.”
“But I’m only having sex with one at the present time.”
“If it were any different, I’d have cut off your dick by now.” I nod. “Most guys had a lot of sex when they were young. You’re a musician. All you have to do is open your mouth and women take off their underwear. What man can resist that?”
“I didn’t have sex with thousands or anything, you know. I’m no Gene Simmons.”
I laugh. “I really don’t care. It’s just fun to torment you.”
His eyes narrow on me. “I think I might need to spank you.”
I sober and watch his strong hands on the steering wheel. “Sing me my song again, and you can do anything you want.”
His face turns to mine in surprise, and then he smiles softly. “You really like it?”
I nod happily and reach for his hand as he begins to sing quietly.
I don’t wanna be your friend
’Cause I’ve already let you in
Every time I see y
our sweet blue eyes
I know I need to make you mine
My walls crumble… And crumble
So all you see is the real me
He sings the whole song, from start to finish, and I trace the ink on his hands as I listen, soaking in the words.
When I run my hand
Over your perfect skin
I know you see me
And not what I’m covered in
My walls crumble… And crumble
So all you see is the me I need you to see
My pretty red panties are wet by the time the song ends, and I’m panting.
I want him. Now.
He pulls up at his town house and cuts the engine. “I can’t wait long enough to drive to your place.”
“Good call.”
Chapter Thirteen
We barely make it through his front door before we’re attacking each other. His alarm system beeps with a warning, reminding him to put the code in before the police is called.
I so don’t need the police to break this up.
He’s working on my jeans, not paying attention as I slam the door behind us.
“The code, Leo.”
“Huh?” He buries his face in my neck and bites the tender flesh below my ear, sending tingles down my arms.
“What’s the code? I don’t want to stop for the cops.”
“1234.”
I stop and frown up at him. “Seriously?”
“Yep.” He’s pulling my tight jeans down my thighs, and I struggle to turn to the keypad to enter in the code before the thirty-second window is up. I punch in the numbers and turn back to him.
“Step out of your pants.” He’s squatting by my feet, and I lean on his shoulders, bunching the material of his T-shirt in my fingers, while he peels the denim off my legs.
“Shirt off,” I mutter, and he complies and assaults my mouth with hard, demanding kisses.
He pulls me to the stairs as we continue to tug and pull at our clothes, inching our way up toward the bedroom.
“Can’t wait.” He props me on the landing, my feet planted on the stairs, and he leans in and buries his face in my still-covered pussy.
With Me in Seattle Bundle One Page 102
