Rock Me(5)

My heart thumped once, really hard, as a thousand images flooded my mind. Kit, with a hundred fabulous, beautiful women on his arm over the last ten years. And none of them me.

“You guys know each other or something?” she asked. God, she was a troublemaker.

“Or something,” he murmured.

His eyes turned darker and when he ran his thumb across his chin, I couldn't miss the loud rasp. Ten years ago he barely had whiskers and now… now he was the hottest man candy ever.

“I love all your music,” Vi said, clearly trying to fill the void.

“I have a concert tonight.” He looked to Vi. “You should come. It starts at seven. I'll leave two VIP backstage passes at Will Call. They’ll let you backstage at six so you can meet the band. Look around. I’ll give you a personal tour.”

Vi almost screamed. Heads turned at the way she was jumping with unrepressed glee before moving on.

“Yes, God yes. We'll be there, won't we, Crystal?”





Chapter 3





Crystal



I blinked at my friend who was going to kill me with her bare hands if I said no. Turn down backstage passes and a tour by the lead singer of Nightbird? Yeah, I'd be dead all right. I knew she was a big fan. I was one too, but only because I'd given my heart to the lead singer a decade ago, and never got it back.

“I don’t know, Kit.” His name fell from my lips automatically as I fought for air. Why was he here? And why was I listening to a word he said? He’d ripped my heart out and stomped on it when I was eighteen. Was I really going to subject myself to his particular brand of torture?

“Come.” God, that one word from his lips made me shiver. I'd heard him say it before, but he hadn't been talking about a concert. Then, I'd been beneath him, his cock deep inside me. Or, he'd had his head between my legs, his mouth directly over my clit.

I shifted, brought my thighs together to ease the ache. God, with just one word he still made me hot. So, yes. I guess I was going to take a ride on the crazy train tonight. If nothing else, I could see what he’d made of himself. Meet the members of his band. I could finally stop wondering about his life. Maybe that would help me let him go.

“We'll be there. Absolutely.” Vi's promise hung between us, thick and heavy with ten years of regret and longing and missing him.

“Look, I have to report in by four. But I'll see you both tonight.” He looked at me a second longer. “It's good to see you, Crys.”

Then he was gone, cutting through the crowd. It seemed he wasn't out of my life after all.



Kit



I hadn’t been this nervous for a show in years. The knots in my gut had nothing to do with the thousands of fans already pouring into the arena. I hadn’t been able to eat a damn thing since I saw her, since she’d called me ‘Kit’ in that sexy fucking voice, since she’d bitten her lip and stared up at me with those fucking baby-blue eyes that ripped through me like claws through paper.

My girl was all grown up now. And she might be hissing and snarling at me, but I saw the way her eyes darkened as she looked at me. It was still there. It. The completely illogical and perfect connection between us. Love at first sight, never stop wanting her, it. Standing in front of her, it hadn’t seemed like it had been ten years since I'd had her beneath me, clawing at my back and whimpering my name. Ten minutes. Ten seconds. Hell.

I could still smell her skin, taste her sweet pussy on my tongue. If I closed my eyes, I would swear I could still feel the delicious hurt of her yanking on my hair, begging me to make her forget everything in the world but us.

“Yo, Kit. Dude, pizza’s getting cold.”

“Thanks, man.” I nodded at Cole, who just shook his head and walked back to the dressing room to kick up his feet, eat some pizza, and watch whatever was on the TV. Our band manager, Tia, showed up with my favorite pre-concert pizza and set up enough food in the green room for a small army. A bottle of whiskey sat next to the pizza boxes on the fold-out table in the back. Unopened. Which was strange.

Normally, Reese Keeland, our drummer, opened it up and we all took a shot to help calm the nerves. Tonight, he was lying on the floor, feet up on the sofa, eyes closed like he was taking a fucking nap. The rest of the band members were draped on the furniture or grabbing a bite. Sebastian had the love of his life—a six string, pearl black, electric guitar—laying across his lap like he was going to make love to it.

I wasn’t in the mood for whiskey, or anything else. It was six-thirty, and she wasn’t here.

“You going to eat, or what?” Tia stepped in front of me and I realized I’d been pacing like a caged animal. I wasn’t even looking forward to the show. The usual adrenaline punch to the gut was gone. Instead of fired up for the performance, I felt empty. Dead on the inside. Like a deserted back alley in a really dark part of the city.