Twisted(75)

“It’s gets hot out there. Why bother? This saves me laundry.” He hooked his hand around the back of her neck. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

She couldn’t help laughing as she covered his mouth with hers. He kicked his foot off the floor and sent their stool spinning, making her shriek and hold on tighter. When they finally stopped, he grinned up at her, the dancing lights in his eyes reminding her of the impish Gray from so many years ago. The one she rarely saw traces of lately.

She traced her fingertip down his nose. “I love seeing you like this. I missed you.”

“I’ve been with you all along, baby.”

“No, you haven’t. Not like this.” She tipped her forehead to his. “Promise me it’ll always be just like this between us. Fresh and new and so hot I can’t breathe when our skin touches.”

“I promise.” He rubbed the inside of his wrist along her bare midriff, and she shot him a sexy look under her lashes. Sometimes it amazed her sparks didn’t erupt at the point of contact between them. “After tonight, everyone will know how I feel about you. How I spend every hour of the day wanting to be inside you and every hour of the night making that wish come true.”

She swallowed hard. “Oh. Okay then.”

His grin turned teasing. “I love making you blush. Knowing that I’m the one who always could, even when there was nothing between us but friendship.”

“Was that ever true?”

“You did an awful good job of acting like my good buddy for too many years.” The prune face he made caused her to giggle.

“If you ever want more insight into my perverted teenage mind, check out my composition notebook.”

His brows lifted. “I’ve been through that composition notebook a million times.”

“Not that one. My secret one.” She smiled and hopped off his lap. “Come on, sexy. We’re needed onstage.”

He smacked her ass before snatching his hat off the dressing table and propping it jauntily on his head. Then he rushed ahead of her to open the door. Even when he was being salacious, he never lost his gentlemanly ways. “Tease. I’ll get you for that later.”

“I should hope so.” Adding a flirty sway to her walk, she led the way backstage.

When the house lights came down half an hour later, he shot her that cocky grin that made her pulse turn frenetic. He faced her as he started the first frantic notes of “Ripcord”, sucking her into his music with merely the power of his stare and his incredible skill. She played from rote, her hands barely aware of the sticks. Scarcely able to focus on anyone or anything but him.

All she could see was the boy she loved, playing for her and her alone.

From “Ripcord” they went into “Taste of Candy” and “Breaking It Down.” They followed that with “Balls To The Wall,” which transitioned well into one of their band camp collaborations “Lit.” The new song was a party anthem, plain and simple, and Simon introduced it by tugging off his shirt and tossing into the crowd. When that wasn’t enough, he tugged off his boots too and pranced across the stage like a drunken cheerleader, doing high kicks and gyrations to Nick and Gray’s dueling solos.

Considering they’d only had a short time to rehearse the song as a group, they didn’t have too many stumbles. Well, no one stumbled but her anyway. When Gray looked back at her after he came out of the finger-blistering solo with Nick, his grin mile-wide, she actually lost hold of one of her sticks. Only a quick save with her toes and a flip of it back into her hands saved that section of the song.

Worst of all? Gray knew his effect on her. He fucking laughed and added a little extra fingerwork to his part, nearly cutting Nick out in his haste to demonstrate to her that he could keep the beat. Ass.

An adorable ass, but still an ass.

Then her breath caught at the first chords of “Sugar Kiss.” The drums throbbed, a low and erotic rhythm meant to make the crowd sway on their feet. And it worked too. Before Simon’s low growl let loose with the first lyrics, the ones she knew because Gray had sung them in her ear that night in the hot tub, the fans were screaming. They could feel the change in the air.

Gray didn’t look at her as one verse blurred into the next. He focused on his fingers, playing with a demonic sense of possession that made his muscles bunch tightly and gleam damply with sweat. His back flexed and his hand flew up and down the frets, pulling out slyly sexual chords. Because the song was new, she had to concentrate and missed some of the lyrics, though she heard snatches over the endless pulsation of her sticks against the skins.