Meandering the dimmed corridors, skulking around columns, trying to catch even a glimpse of how this tortured rock god operated when he thought nobody else was watching, obsessing about every inch of his hard, sculpted body, and how it would feel plastered against—
Fuck! What kind of sick, crazed person did that shit?
A lump the size of a golf ball took up residence, shallow breaths barely able to squeeze through as muffled sounds of Gia’s wailing carried into the desolate hallway. Even with eyes squeezed shut, the images kept looping, over and over, in excruciatingly lewd detail.
Shocking realization had long since turned into full-on obsession.
Unrequited love was a real bitch, accidental though it was.
Speaking of which, it looked like Gia might be due for an accident herself…
Chapter Fourteen
HEAT EMITTED BY THE FLASHING strobe lights was always unbearable, but tonight, it was suffocating. Sweat dripped down Daxton’s back, drenching through the black t-shirt as his hands raced over the guitar strings. He squinted through the drops of perspiration burning his eyes. After a few more breathless notes, the final bridge was in sight. Almost time to put this day far behind him, burying it for good. Christ, how jaded had he become that the one thing he loved more than anything had become so stifling?
Once the curtain fell, he expelled a deep sigh, which released exactly none of the angst gripping him. Even an hour with Gia writhing against him, naked, wet, and ready, couldn’t get him hard. She sucked, rubbed, and tugged to no avail. Every attempt to put Sara out of his mind was futile, and now, with all the media hype surrounding his father’s upcoming nuptials to that mindless bimbo, Layla, there wasn’t a hope or prayer for reconstruction of his emotional state. The press just loved any excuse to tear open all of his old wounds - Jase, Cooper, his mother. His mind knew he needed to move on, but dammit, his heart ignored every plea. How much longer could he just stand still?
“Dax, Kayla and Gia were talking about staying on the bus tonight. You want me to take care of that? Or do you have someone else in mind for your post-show entertainment? I figured it would be good to mingle with our openers, yeah?” Finn slung an arm around his shoulders then recoiled. “Fuck, man, you’re disgusting!”
“Nobody told you to start pawing at me, dude.” Daxton ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair. “And not tonight. I’m hitting it hard and alone.”
“Porn? Seriously?” Finn nodded toward the crowd of women waving various articles of lingerie in the air. “Take your pick. I can have any of those freaky chicks spread eagle on your bed in five minutes.”
“No, I’m hitting the pillow, Finn. I’m exhausted. But feel free to enjoy your threesome.”
“I may need to take them to my green room before we ship out. Two chicks in my bunk on the bus isn’t going to work. At least, not for the other guys. I needed your sweet suite.” Finn flashed a wicked grin at Daxton before giving his arm a hard punch. “Have fun sleeping.”
Daxton grabbed a bottle of water from a table backstage. Finn joined Cooper and Liam, who were surrounded by paparazzi. Incessant camera flashes antagonized the stress knot sitting at the base of his skull. Scantily clad girls - not women, girls; most not more than twenty - waited eagerly in a roped off area, hoping to be fingered by one of the band members, and invited to a raucous after party.
He wasn’t in the mood. Seemed like he’d been saying that way too much lately. What the hell kind of rock star was he anyway? Mooning after one girl when there were thousands of others who’d give a limb to share his bed?
Merrick emerged from the throng of spectators, a look of concern on his face. “You okay?”
“As good as can be expected.”
“Finn said you don’t want to get laid tonight. Do you feel sick or something? Want me to call a doctor?”
Daxton barked out a laugh. “I’m fine. Just tired, though I appreciate the concern about my alleged diminished sex drive.”
“You’re sure you don’t want me to pick anyone out?“
“One hundred and fifty percent sure. I need sleep.” With any luck, he’d escape the nightmares. Booze always helped numb his mind enough to settle. Without it, who knew what demons would be chasing him? Fuck it, he’d take the risk. The ills ailing him couldn’t be remedied with alcohol or sex, and it was about time he’d accepted that and figured out how to come to terms with everything clouding his life.
“After you shower.”
“After I shower.” Dax rolled his eyes. “Now, get me out of here.”
Merrick waved over a couple of the bodyguards. “Guys, can you clear a path?”
“Back to the bus, Dax?” Sean, the larger of the two, and the band’s head of security, asked. Yes, he was actually bigger, if that was even believable, considering both were built like brick shithouses on stilts.
“Yeah.” He gulped the last remaining droplets of water, draining the bottle. The bulky guys huddled around him, making sure none of the rowdy and grabby females sunk their claws into him. It was like a gauntlet, except instead of knives being flung at him, it was fake tits. And if you’ve felt one, well, everyone knows the rest of that line. Now, Sara’s rack was one he’d wished was being offered. Lush, perky, sans silicone. Those babies pressed against him…fuck yeah, sleep would lose in that competition.
Where was she, anyway? Daxton’s neck craned back toward the crowd still hovering around the rest of the band. Sara’s blonde hair fanned out behind her as she twisted in the direction of a reporter, no doubt trying to salvage Daxton’s reputation. It was a tough job, though he’d like to personally make sure it wasn’t a thankless one. Except she was a good girl, with a boyfriend, and she was well aware of how much of a disaster he was. Just a few tiny obstacles cock blocking him.
Sean led the way down the corridor, away from the roadies breaking down sets, away from the shrieking fans and flying bras and panties…and Sara. No party for him. Maybe he really did need some therapy.
“Excuse me, Daxton Cole?”
Jolted from his reverie, Daxton turned slightly in the direction of the voice. It was a man, about forty, with dark hair and dark eyes, and a little shorter than he.
Sean turned around, lowering his voice. “You know this guy, Dax?”
“No, keep moving.”
As requested, they directed him toward the buses, faster now that they had a new and unwelcome audience.
“Please wait. I just want to talk to you for a minute.”
“You heard him. He doesn’t know you. Leave now.” Alex, the other guard, palmed his gun. “Trust me, this isn’t a toy.”
“I don’t want any trouble. I just…if I could just get a second…”
The hairs on the back of Daxton’s neck stood at attention. He paused to look back at the man wringing his hands. What kind of sick fuck was tailing him now? Of course, there had been others. There always were. But somehow this one had gotten in close.
Sean positioned himself behind Dax, his size enough to block anyone from breaching the perimeter. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him. You need anything else, Dax?”
Daxton’s eyes flickered back toward Alex and where he’d backed the guy against the side of the arena, using his massive weight to muscle him. There was something so familiar about the guy, creepy as he was.
He started up the steps, but the man’s next words uttered in what sounded like pure desperation, paralyzed any future movement.
“I knew your mother.”
Chapter Fifteen
NO ANSWER. OF COURSE NOT, it was Saturday night. Sara let out a deep sigh. What was she thinking? The mayor of Grand Falls and his socialite wife would no doubt be pouring themselves into bed around dawn after schmoozing at some fundraising event. Why should they be bothered with their only daughter, the one they’d exiled?
It wasn’t like they could really do anything to help her, beyond pulling strings to get her into this PR firm. She was on her own now, and yeah, it still scared the
crap out of her, especially since receiving those texts. Someone knew. Someone was angry. And someone was freaking her the heck out.
The crowds surrounding Finn, Cooper, and Liam eventually dispersed, and the guys made their way back to the tour bus with some parting gifts and their respective owners. Jeez, it was like a big orgy.
She swallowed a gasp. Holy cow.
One glaring fact was that Daxton was nowhere in sight. After the show ended, he’d bee lined for the exit – no hassles, no groupies, no time wasted. Was he waiting on the bus already? Was he the orchestrator of this whole sex fest? It would be really helpful to know what tabloid headlines she might wake up to in the morning, and what kind of damage control would be required to hang on to her job. Freaking horny rock stars and their obscene lifestyles. Freaking Daxton Cole and his ability to turn her inside out with the flash of those delicious brown eyes.
A chill zipped through her. Stupid denim jacket had more strategically placed holes than a slice of Swiss cheese. Stylish and trendy? Yes. Practical? Heck, no. She gripped it tightly around her, teeth chattering. Except it wasn’t the temperature that had her stomach in knots and her mind projecting very X-rated films starring her and Daxton.
This obsession, inane as it was, had to end. But that wasn’t the only thing.
A quick text to Eli yielded no response after a few minutes. Everyone should be accounted for by now. The itinerary said they’d soon be heading to the next venue. And this couldn’t wait a second longer. Chest tight, she found herself standing at the entrance of the bus carrying the Smeared Lipstick crew members. Darn it, she’d always hated this part.
She stepped on board, scanning the interior. Lots of faces, none were Eli’s. Where the heck could he be?
“Need something, sweetheart?” A tall, lanky guy with glasses leered at her.
“Um, yes. I’m looking for Eli Maclane.”
The guy nodded past her. “Room’s at the back of the bus.”
“Thanks.” She took a deep breath. Nobody paid attention as she squeezed past. Loud music blared from the speakers, while multiple plasma screens were displaying some kind of video game. Violent ones, from the looks of them. Lots of guns and blood. Bullets popped and grenades exploded. It was hard to think amidst the noise. Maybe that was a good thing, considering she was about to pull the rug out from under the poor guy. But it wasn’t fair to lead him on anymore. Not when she couldn’t stop thinking about another. She wasn’t in it, and he needed to know.
After a few knocks with no response, most likely due to an inability to hear, she grasped the door handle and pushed it open.
And God, did she ever wish she could unsee what was in her direct line of sight.
She’d recognize that hair anywhere. Full, blonde curls bounced over the shoulders of one Laney Taylor, as her tanned, naked body rode Eli like a paperboy on a bike trying to escape a vicious dog attack.
A sharp intake of breath sliced into Sara’s lungs. Her limbs were frozen, immobile. The sight was like a runaway train heading toward a tree at two hundred miles per hour. Her eyes refused to move, and her mouth was temporarily on strike. Not the best time to be rendered mute. Argh! Say something, damnit!
All at once, she’d regained the ability to speak. Well, yell, actually.
“You scumbag!”
Eli’s eyes popped open wide. “Sara!”
Laney shrieked, jumping off Eli and wrapping herself in a sheet. “What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you knock?”
“Don’t you make sure the guys you’re going to screw don’t already have girlfriends? Or is this supposed to be a case of ‘well, sweetie, she was on my list, so it really doesn’t count’?” Sara glared at Eli. “Because it does, you asshole!”
“You have a girlfriend?” Laney grabbed her sweatshirt and pulled it over her now-mussed hair. “And she’s part of the tour?”
“Yes, but I—I—”
“You what, Eli? You are just a total waste of space!” Sara glanced at Laney, who was hopping on one foot to pull on her leggings. “Keep him. I’m done.”
Laney’s high-pitched voice, endlessly spewing expletives, pierced her brain as she pushed past the open-mouthed spectators gathered outside of Eli’s door. What a lying, cheating bastard! That was an unanticipated twist, albeit a welcome one. Good riddance. She wasn’t some shrinking violet, ready to bend over at a moment’s notice to satisfy anyone. This was the beginning of a new chapter; the one where she called the shots and was ready to kick ass…if there were asses needing to be kicked.
Chapter Sixteen
“DAX, WHERE THE HELL ARE you going?” Finn’s question was followed by a yawn so loud, it could have woken the inhabitants of the neighboring buses. “We have sound check in an hour.”
Daxton ran a hand through his tousled, gel-crunched hair and pulled on a Houston Astros baseball cap. “I’m going for a run.”
“Sorry, I don’t speak that language. Come again?”
“I need to clear my head, okay? Buy me some time. I’ll be back.”
“Since when do you run? Don’t you want to get breakfast instead? Bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich, home fries, coffee?”
“Look, it was a shitty night. I need to get out for a while. Alone.”
“Dude, Merrick is gonna—”
“He’ll deal. I’ll see you later.”
Daxton slid open the tour bus door, breathing in the crisp, fresh air. Nobody in sight. Great, he finally had a chance to escape the questions he couldn’t answer, questions he didn’t even want to acknowledge.
The sun peeked over the clouds as he sank into a hamstring stretch. His muscles were so tight, just like the knot that had taken up residence at the base of his skull. Ironic. Excessive booze normally had the opposite effect. And he’d pretty much drank himself sober after last night’s debacle. How the hell had that guy gotten so close?
He rubbed the back of his neck, desperate to relieve the knot. “Dammit!”
“Rough night?”
That raspy voice made him jump about twenty feet into the air. Christ, did she know how sexy her voice sounded in the morning? He’d love to hear it waking him up after a very sleepless night infused with lots of carnal pleasures. Oh, fuck yeah.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Sara twirled her ponytail around her index finger, a sleepy smile on her face. The soft morning light danced atop her head, half-hooded green eyes making his cock twitch. Shit, even at this ungodly hour of the morning?
“I didn’t expect anyone else to be awake.”
“Thought you’d escape unnoticed, huh?” Sara smirked. “I’m going for a run. Figured it was my only chance for some peace and quiet before Merrick assigns me his list of errands for the day.”
“Uh-huh.” His eyes raked over the curves poured into hot pink spandex, mind unable to formulate a thought beyond peeling her out of those constricting clothes. Immediately, if not sooner.
“Okay, then.”
“Okay, what?”
She grabbed her ankles one at a time, pulling each toward to her perfect ass, stretching her quads. “Let’s go. You shouldn’t be by yourself, anyway.”
“So you’re gonna protect me?”
Her pink lips curled into a sly smile. “It’s my job. Now stop procrastinating and move.”
“You’re kind of pushy. Why can’t we ease into it? Nice and slow to start?”
“Nice and slow, huh? Kind of shocking. You don’t seem the type.”
He stretched his arms over his head. “I don’t know what you’re implying. I was talking about running.“
“Sure you were.” She tightened her ponytail. “Trust me, you’ll feel better once you sweat out all the alcohol.”
A slow trot increased in intensity much too quickly, and soon, they were circling the arena parking lot at full speed. Focus, focus, focus! His primary objective was not to collapse. A sidelong glance confirmed Sara had barely broken a sweat since they’d started. No words were exchanged, which was a good thing, since h
e couldn’t catch a single breath. A burning sensation erupted in the pit of his belly, spreading through his lungs, singeing his insides. His legs, now feeling more like Jell-O than actual limbs, were on the brink of revolution. Why didn’t he grab a bottle of water? Panting only made his mouth drier, as if it wasn’t already more arid than the Sahara at midday. Sweat drizzled into his eyes, blurring his vision. How many more times were they going to make this death loop?
Sara pivoted to face him, tiny beads of perspiration glistening along her hairline, the only sign she was exerting herself at all. Jogging backwards. Not even changing her gait. He was a step above pathetic – a very short step.
“How is it that you can’t even make it a mile without looking like you’re about to pass out?”
Great, he needed to speak now?
“It’s not like…I’m…Britney Spears…shaking my ass…all over the stage.” His calf muscles ached as his sneakers pounded the pavement. Bacon, egg, and cheese had been a very delicious alternative, and he opted out for this self-inflicted torture? “I play guitar…and sing…doesn’t require…cardio.” He mopped his face with the edge of the t-shirt. “How the hell…are you…able to do this? I don’t think…your boy…friend is…keeping you…up late…enough.”
Croaking out those last words nearly killed him, for multiple reasons.
“You should really consider traveling with an oxygen mask.” She flipped around, giving him a glimpse of her shapely backside, just about the only thing keeping him going. “And, just so you know, he’s not my boyfriend anymore.”
“Not your…boy—” A sharp pain shot through his foot, stopping him mid-stride. “Ahh!” His body rocketed forward, arms flailing, sending him to the pebbly concrete lot with nothing to cushion the blow except his pride.
Thump!
“Holy crap, are you okay?” Sara fell to the ground where he was writhing in agony, bits of pebble mashed into his skin. “Where does it hurt?”
Dirty, Dark, & Dangerous: A Contemporary Romance Boxset Page 8
