by Ami LeCoeur
“You look great!” he called out to me. I blushed when a half-dozen techs and stage hands turned to check me out.
“Thanks!” I waved back, suddenly glad I’d chosen a seldom-worn leather skirt for the occasion as I caught Kris admiring my legs. Note to self: Start wearing more skirts. I laughed. That would be tough, breaking free of my daily uniform. But maybe it was time to break out of my fashion rut. It was certainly worth it to get that kind of appreciation.
Kris waved to one of the bartenders, who approached me to ask if I wanted anything to drink. “Just a club soda, please.” It was too early for me to drink alcohol, and I hadn’t yet decided if I was going to drink any at all tonight.
Kris hopped down from the stage, satisfied with his guitar, and approached me with arms open wide. I hugged him, unprepared for what came next: a full-on, open-mouthed kiss. My eyes flew open wide when his tongue darted between my lips. Oh, it definitely turned me on—he was a good kisser—but I was also more than a little surprised. We were still strangers, or practically. I hadn’t expected anything quite so… demonstrative, at least not so soon.
It was flattering, though, getting so much direct and obviously appreciative attention from a guy like Kris. I knew once the place filled up he’d be the center of attention, so I was gratified that I had no competition at the moment. I was happy to play the star’s “girl,” if only for the night.
As he introduced me to his bandmates, they shook my hand and asked what a nice girl like me was doing with a jerk like Kris. They said it jokingly, of course, the way guys razzed each other.
I couldn’t miss the way Kris’ hand lowered to stroke my butt possessively once or twice while I chatted with the band. It was subtle, but he was starting a chain reaction of heat between my legs which slowly spread until my core pulsed with tense, aching desire.
I was more than a little breathless when I returned to the little table where I’d left my club soda while Kris finished getting ready. The lighting cues needed testing, evidently, and I watched as the various spotlights came on and went off. From their positioning, I got the impression that Kris was usually front-and-center during the show. He seemed a natural there, grinning and winking at me as the technicians worked out the light board settings.
Eventually, the lighting designer gave a thumbs up.
I’d found the whole thing fascinating, in the same way I was impressed by anything that required skill and precision. There was so much I didn’t know. It wasn’t so different from how most people simply took print ads for granted, even when those ads influenced them to buy things.
Kris waved me over. “Wanna see the set-up backstage? It’s pretty sweet here. We’ve played in more than a few pits.”
“Love to!” I climbed onstage, an idea occurring to me. “Before we do, can I get a picture with you? I don’t know the next time I’ll be able to stand onstage with an actual rock star legend.” I grinned like a smitten groupie.
He clearly didn’t mind. “Sure thing.” He wrapped his arms around me while I played with camera angles. I pressed my face against his, cheek-to-cheek, and anybody looking at us would have thought we were a happy couple, a regular thing. He kissed my cheek as I took a second photo. I was flattered by his affectionate ways. It was refreshing, him treating me as somebody special, and more than a little exciting.
“Come on!” He pulled me by the hand to the dressing room, down a long, narrow corridor. I wondered how many other acts had waited back there before a show. The room itself was fairly cramped, especially for a four-person band, but we were the only ones in there right then. Kris closed the door before flopping down on the sofa. He still held my hand, so when he flopped, I had no choice but to follow. When he pulled me onto his lap, I laughed, realizing that had been his plan all along.
I reminded myself to relax and just go with the moment. It was about time for me to have a little fun. I deserved it. He pulled my face to his, kissing me again as he had when he first greeted me. His tongue alone was enough to get me wet, so when one hand crept up my thigh while the other found my breast, I was breathless in an instant.
“Whoa,” I gasped, pulling my mouth away long enough to gulp in air. “We don’t know each other very well yet.”
“I don’t need to know you to know what you do to me.” He lifted me, pulling me down to straddle him, grinding my hips against his rather obvious erection. I couldn’t deny my strong physical response to his size. The thought that I turned him on that much made me even hotter, in fact.
“Still, I mean, we just met.” Even to my own ears, my voice was weak, uncertain. My body was clearly ignoring the warnings my brain sent. My body loved the things he was doing, like sliding his hand beneath my shirt to fondle my breast. My nipple hardened in an instant, and he dipped his fingers inside my bra to tweak me. I gasped, grinding against him without meaning to. He growled, his mouth against my throat.
“How else are we supposed to get to know each other better?” He let out a low, throaty laugh full of sensual promise. “That’s what I’m trying to do right now.”
I knew it was still a little early for this, but my body had other ideas. When he slid his hand up my thigh, beneath my skirt, I moaned softly. It never occurred to me to stop him from sliding his fingers between my legs, rubbing my aching heat until I whimpered and rocked against him. He was a master, getting me so close to coming… so close… I ran my hands through his hair, holding his mouth close to my skin as he licked my throat… so close…
The door opened. Kris’s hand disappeared in an instant.
“Sorry,” I heard the mumbled apology through the roaring of blood in my ears. I didn’t know which member of the band it was, and I was too mortified to turn around to find out. I closed my eyes, shaking my head. What the heck was I thinking, letting a perfect stranger finger me in a dressing room? Practically in public!
I stood, straightening myself out with my eyes turned toward the floor. The worst part of all, I realized, was how much I’d liked everything that happened—and how excited I still was. My cheeks flushed.
What did that say about me?
Chapter Ten
Kris fixed his hair, which I’d managed to muss up pretty well, then gestured for me to join him in the hall. I followed gratefully, greedy for any excuse to get out of that room, anything to escape my shame.
“Twenty minutes, Kris,” the disembodied voice said.
Kris nodded to his bandmate before pulling me into the hallway. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful to be out of the room. I knew my skin was flushed from head to toe, and my breath was still a little shaky. I ached to the point of pain between my legs after Kris had brought me so close to the brink. Imagine if we’d been interrupted only a few seconds later! I blushed even harder.
Kris was just as intense as he’d been in the room before the door opened so suddenly. He was quiet, withdrawn, somewhat jumpy, worked up, shaking his hands out, rolling his head in circles on his neck.
“Are you okay?” I asked, concerned by his sudden change in demeanor.
“No.” He nearly growled it. We reached a small alcove off the hallway, almost a closet except with no door. Kris pulled me into it. There was just enough room for the two of us, our bodies pressed close together. My heartbeat picked up speed again.
“I can’t concentrate. I can’t get loose. I need to get loose before the show.”
“Oh, no. I’m sure you’ll be great! Do you usually get stage fright like this?”
He stared at me. “It’s not stage fright. I just need to loosen up. And I need your help.” Had I offended him somehow? I didn’t think stage fright was anything to be ashamed of.
“What can I do?” I asked, still a little confused by the change in his demeanor.
He needed no further invitation, pressing me up against the wall. “There’s only one thing that ever helps me when I feel this way. Sex.”
I couldn’t help laughing a little. How old did he think I was? I thought lines like that only
worked on teenagers, and even then they were still a little trite. He wasn’t joking, though.
I gasped, then groaned softly when his erection pressed against me again. He growled in my ear, grinding with long, slow strokes. “You’re so beautiful. God, I need you so fucking bad. I can’t stand it.”
It all seemed so ridiculous, yet I couldn’t keep my skin from tingling as his erection pressed hard against me.
“Come on,” he murmured, tracing my throat with his lips. “I need you. You don’t have to screw me here, but if you sucked me off, it would be amazing.”
I actually full-on laughed that time. A blow-job? In public? My laughter didn’t dissuade him one bit. If anything, it made him more determined to have his way. He took one of my hands from his shoulder and shoved it inside his pants. “See how hard I am? This is all you, baby. I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard. It hurts. I can’t concentrate on anything else. How am I supposed to play?”
I couldn’t believe it. There we were, in a little alcove, with the audience filing into the arena. I could hear them talking, laughing, even the whirring of blenders from the bar. And here I was, stroking a hot, thick erection backstage.
“That’s right, baby. Touch it. Oh, yeah.” He groaned, breathing heavily in my ear as he pressed against my hand. His tongue traced my earlobe, and I shivered in spite of myself. He was skilled, for sure. “Stroke me. That’s right. You’re so beautiful.”
The need in his voice, the throaty growl, sent shock waves of pleasure to my core. My wetness only grew, the aching between my legs stronger than ever. I couldn’t believe how turned on I was becoming. It was hot. Secret, sneaky. Sexy.
“Come on, please. Please, suck it. Let me come so I can play. I need you, baby. I need you to fix what you did to me.” He thrust his cock against my hand, rubbing his hot length across my palm. I groaned, wondering how he’d feel inside me.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” Crap! The announcer was warming up the crowd. It was almost show time. That didn’t seem to matter to the man whose cock I held. He groaned, desperate, thrusting his hips as he panted for breath.
“Hey, pal. Hurry it up. We have a show to do, you know.” I could have died of embarrassment all over again as the rest of the band filed past on their way to the stage. What did they think of me? That I was just a groupie, only there for sex?
Kris reluctantly slid from my hand, tucking his length up against the waistband of his jeans. “Shit,” he muttered, straightening himself out. “Now I have to go out there like this.” He didn’t look at me, didn’t kiss me, touch me, nothing. He walked behind his bandmates, leading me by the hand. I was wobbly, my legs shaky, still intensely turned on by what just happened. I couldn’t believe what he’d wanted me to do—what I’d been so close to doing. I was surprised by just how much I wanted to comply with his urgings.
“Wait here,” he said, positioning me in the wings before walking out onstage to the sheer delight of the fans. I couldn’t believe I was standing right there, barely offstage. With the band’s star guitarist. I felt foggy-headed, like my brain was stuck in a cloud. It was all the blood rushing to my groin, I thought, fighting back a giggle. No wonder I could hardly think straight.
Taking a deep breath, I focused on the show and the fans. There were so many, and the energy in the venue was completely different from that at The Cellar. There, the music had been soulful, bluesy, relaxed. Just a man and his guitar. This was vibrant, energetic, pulsing. Pounding even.
I could hardly believe the man on stage was the same man I’d seen perform at the bar. Here, tonight, Kris completely owned the stage, handling his guitar like it was an extension of his penis. He stroked it, pointing it toward the crowd, rubbing it against his body as he played. His hips gyrated, his pelvis thrusting. It was as though he was having sex with the entire crowd. At least, that’s what it seemed like to me. The girls in the audience must have thought the same thing, since they screamed their heads off like maniacs.
But I knew what they didn’t know. Kris’ eyes kept moving offstage. He stared at me each time he thrust his hips, and I bit my bottom lip. It was very hot in here all of a sudden.
Then there was the music itself. The band played covers of a wide range of rock and R&B, and they were really a talented bunch even without Kris’s sexualization of every song. Some songs didn’t need additional sexualizing, either. When the opening chords of Bad Company’s “Feel Like Makin’ Love” sounded, I shook my head. Of course, I thought, grinning. The crowd went wild, girls shrieking and whistling.
Then Kris started singing, his deep croon reaching right inside me, traveling all the way through me. His eyes kept meeting mine, and I felt he was singing right to me. It was a hot song already, and he made it infinitely hotter. He begged me, cajoled me, teased me until my willpower disappeared. I wanted to attack him, right out in the middle of the stage.
What I loved most was knowing something the audience didn’t know. They had no idea I stood there, soaking up the tension, my knees weak, my pulse pounding.
The song ended, and my hands nearly hurt from clapping so hard.
The lights dimmed everywhere onstage but the drum kit, and I understood the signal that the drummer was about to go into a solo. The rest of the band walked offstage, the bassist and rhythm guitarist in one direction, Kris in the other. Coming toward me.
I expected him to walk by on his way to the dressing room, or to guzzle a bottle of water. Instead, he took me by the waist. He was sweaty, breathing hard, but I didn’t care. I needed to be close to him after the musical foreplay we’d engaged in.
“I need you,” he whispered. “I need you, now. It’s been torture out there.”
Before I knew it, I was against the wall again, just offstage. “It’s all your fault,” he whispered, hands beneath my shirt again. “I’ve got blue balls. I need to come, now, or I can’t go back out there. I’m aching for you, it hurts so bad. Let me feel good, baby. I need you.” He pressed himself against me again and darned if he wasn’t just as hard as before.
I was already so turned on, I didn’t even try to stop myself. I raised one leg, wrapping it around his thigh to give him the access he needed. At that moment, I needed him just as much as he needed his own release, and when he pulled my panties to the side to skewer me with his hot thickness, I nearly exploded right there. He felt so good, just as good as I’d imagined. Maybe better.
“Yes… yes, Sarah…” He grunted softly with every thrust, palms against the wall, pushing up in rapid-fire movements which I met with downward thrusts of my own. It was so hot, so sudden, so overwhelming and such a welcome relief from the tension he’d built in me. I couldn’t stop the orgasm from hitting me like a freight train. Some part of my brain registered that his pounding against me was the only thing holding me in a standing position. Without it, I’d have melted into the floor. He kept thrusting, pounding, and moments later, his body stiffened as he bit into my shoulder, then literally shook against me. The pounding stopped as he gasped and sighed heavily against my neck.
I leaned my head back against the wall, breathing deeply.
As my senses returned. I heard the band playing a sort of instrumental jam session. I wasn’t sure if it was planned, or something they put together on the spot while Kris and I had been busy doing other things to each other’s bodies.
My eyes flew open when I realized everything we’d been doing could easily be seen from the stage. I had no idea if the others had noticed or watched, or simply been oblivious to what we were doing.
Kris moved away, wiping himself with a hankie he’d pulled from his back pocket. He gave me a long, deep kiss before chugging nearly a bottle of water and heading back onstage with the band.
I was breathless, lost, overwhelmed. This was the most daring thing I’d ever done. I didn’t know I had even a hint of exhibitionist in me, but I’d just had sex, potentially in full view of strangers. I stood there, still panting from the exhilaration of my experience. Mentally
, I shook my head, trying to clear the sex-drenched fuzziness from my body and mind. Who was this stranger I’d just become?
I trembled as I realized I was a woman who’d just had seriously hot sex, in a public place with a seriously hot man I hardly knew—and I’d enjoyed every second of it. I was still more than a little turned on. This was something new to me, something totally unexpected.
What was this side of me that Kris had uncovered? I shivered a little. It was too much, too soon, and far too exciting for me to figure out rationally. And I was still too turned on to simply stand there trying to figure it out.
Chapter Eleven
My mind—and body—were still reeling as I made my way to the bathroom, wanting to clean up a little. My head was full of way too many clashing thoughts. Who was I? Had anybody seen us? What did they think? Did I even care? Would we do it again?
That last question was at the forefront. Some part of me was still battling with the nice-girl syndrome I’d lived my life with versus the naughty girl in the wings I’d just discovered. I wondered how much of me had been present in the wings, and if I could get used to that level of heat and eroticism if given the chance.
I found the ladies’ room and ducked inside, glad nobody saw me making my pseudo walk of shame. Then I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the sink. My hair was a mess, my cheeks were deep red. My lips even looked a bit swollen. It was clear, even to me, that I’d been making out pretty heavily.
“Sarah Jean, you are a naughty, naughty girl. Who’d have guessed?” I whispered at my disheveled state, narrowing my eyes and shaking my head before leaning down to splash my face with cold water.
What else would the night hold? Would this end up being a night where I brazenly abandoned everything I knew about my prior self? I laughed, feeling a strange sense of freedom along with a sexy naughtiness. I’d never had sex in public before and was surprised at how the thought itself turned me on, even now. That was a pretty big one. What else would I do? I knew being with somebody like Kris might continue to unlock a side of me I never knew existed, and maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
