Twisted(76)
She managed not to blush until Gray turned toward her to sing the last two verses. Simon’s voice dropped away and he grabbed his guitar Cherry to pick up the rhythm section that Gray abandoned. Nick tossed a grin at Simon and they went back to back as they always had in the early band footage filmed before she and Gray had joined. Deak kept the bass line steady, adding a heavy heartbeat that ran through the song.
And Gray sang to her. Openly. He tugged off one of his suspenders, letting it hang, and the women in the crowd whistled and shrieked. Bracing one leg on the riser that held her drum kit, he added his own guitar to Simon and Nick’s, his finger play a somehow carnal backdrop to the way his voice rasped over the lyrics he’d written. Through sheer will she managed not to lose the thread of her part of the song, but watching his sensual lips mouth words for her ears alone while chicks screamed only a few feet away nearly broke her a dozen times.
Instead of ending the song as they’d rehearsed it, he kept going, repeating the last verse, stringing out his guitar part until the other guys had no choice but to join him. Somehow she found herself singing louder, repeating the same sexy lyrics back to him, only aware that her mic had been turned up when her own voice echoed back over the track. She started to back off, but Gray’s voice grew stronger, teasing hers out as if she were a turtle poking out of her shell.
His eyes stayed on hers, his stare strong and unrelenting. With one glance, she knew he was mentally peeling off her clothes and running his mouth down her body, playing her curves with his fingers with the same infinite patience he worked the strings.
She’d never been verbally made love to before. And she’d never reflected every bit of her desire right back.
As the song wound down, the hooting and hollering from the crowd shook her out of her stupor. But when Gray scaled the riser and locked his hand in her hair, hauling her mouth up to his for a hot, rough kiss, she succumbed to his spell.
Dimly, she heard the cheers and Simon’s lewd laughter while he teased the audience about what they’d borne witness to. But the rest of her consciousness was completely centered on Gray and his slick tongue slipping over hers.
“I want to fuck you right here,” he panted into her mouth, and God, she believed him. She wanted it too. More than she’d ever wanted anything before.
By the time he jumped back down and took up his regular space at Nick’s side, she was shaking so hard that her sticks vibrated against the drums before she got hold of herself. Her nipples had beaded to painful points and between her legs, she was so soaked she didn’t know what she’d leave behind on the seat. He’d fucking melted her.
By the time Nick ended the song with the solo of all solos, hunched over the guitar he gripped like it was a wild animal on the verge of escape, the crowd was on fire. A quick couple of hand gestures from Simon to Deak and the rest of the band and they changed up the setlist, going into a high energy cover they pulled out every now and then to keep the audience revved. As the first licks of Guns ‘n Roses’ “Sweet Child O‘ Mine” reverberated through the club, Simon grabbed Gray’s hat and pitched it into the crowd, tempting him to lose his place. But Gray only grinned and kept right on playing.
Once the set was over, she’d search online for another velvet hat to buy him. Superstitions mattered. Tonight, when everything was going better than they’d ever dreamed—the band finally gelling, the audience vibe perfect, the music sounding better than ever—she wasn’t about to alter any of their normal routines.
Including her post-show jump off the drum kit to grab a water and tease Gray. Tonight wasn’t going to be any different—or so she thought until he waited through their three-song encore to turn to her, the look in his eye painfully intense. And obvious.
He intended to fulfill his fucking fantasy, right there.
The curtain dropped and the stage started to empty out, somehow faster than normal. Roadies scurried away with their equipment, calling instructions to each other, and Simon and Deak and Nick left as one, slapping each other on the back. This show would clearly go down as one of their biggest triumphs since last year’s contract asshattery, in spite of the fact that they’d played for much larger crowds than this one. But hell, she seriously doubted they’d ever been more in sync and more amped than they’d been tonight.
Jazz rubbed her sweaty hands on her thighs and swallowed hard as Gray handed off his guitar to the stage crew. Then he was free to focus all of his attention on her again, his gaze burning her to the core. Each step he took toward her made her tremble harder until he stood in front of her. She couldn’t even gather enough breath to say his name.