Before she could return the sentiment, the bedroom door opened. Eric glanced over his shoulder to find Jon standing there, fuming.
Rebekah trembled beneath him. "Oh baby," she moaned, "fill me with your huge cock. Fuck me, Eric! Make me come."
Eric looked at her, one eyebrow arched in question, wondering if she realized Jon was watching them. "Jon," he whispered into her ear.
"I want him to see," she whispered back.
"Why?"
"It makes me feel sexy."
And he wanted that for her. Knew she needed it, though he'd never understand how she could possibly think she wasn't sexy. Everything about her was sexy.
"Show him my tits," she whispered.
He yanked the bodice of her French maid costume down to release her breasts. Watching them bounce with each thrust obliterated his concentration for a long moment. He pounded into her harder to make them bounce more delightfully. Bending over her, he licked the taut nipple of one perfect breast with the flat of his tongue. She clung to his hair, vocalizing her excitement with so much enthusiasm, he feared she'd explode.
"Oh Eric. Eric!" And if she kept saying his name like that, he knew he would explode.
"Isn't she sexy, Jon?" he murmured. "Sexy, beautiful Rebekah … "
"When I tried to show her I thought she was sexy, she flipped me over her back and onto the floor," Jon said. "What is it about me that makes Sinners' chicks kick my ass?"
"Look, don't touch," she said.
Jon snorted. "That's more Eric's thing."
"Not with Rebekah," he said, blowing a breath over her wet nipple. "I can't get enough of this woman."
Rebekah put a thumb under Eric's chin and tilted his face upward so she could kiss him. "You can leave anytime, Jon," she said, glancing out of the corner of her eye.
Eric heard Jon close the door behind him. "I thought you wanted him to watch."
She smiled. "You're enough for me. You always make me feel like the sexiest woman in the world."
"Well, you are. It's not like I have to work at it."
Chapter 18
Waiting for the signal to go onstage, Eric stood behind his drum kit twirling his drumsticks. Rebekah's soft, yet confident, voice filtered instructions through his earpiece and made him smile. The woman was too good to be true. It was as if she'd been made especially for him. Things were almost too perfect. He kept waiting for a meteor to fall from the sky and pulverize him to ash. His life had been one train wreck after another. Something this wonderful had to end badly. And when it did, he knew it would destroy him.
"Eric. Eric? Eric!" His name echoed through his head. Rebekah was shouting into his earpiece to gain his attention.
Eric realized the lights had come up, the band was onstage, and he was supposed to be tapping out the intro to "Sever," but he wasn't even seated yet. Shit! Daydreaming on the job. Eric rushed to sit on his throne, aka small stool, and tapped a beat on his snare.
A spotlight hit the surface of the white baby grand piano. The piano reflected various colors-blue to red to yellow to green-in time with Jace's playing. The rest of the band entered the song, and Sed roared that first note over the shouts of a chaotic crowd. Eric got sucked into his zone, letting the music, the beat, sweep him into a place where nothing existed but sound. Arms flailing, legs pumping, he put everything he had into the rhythm. He almost forgot he was supposed to sing the chorus until the time was upon him. While Sed roared, "Sever," in increasingly loud and lengthy tones, Eric entered with his softer melody. He concentrated on his breathing, his arms and legs carrying the beat with little thought. He loved this song, but it was a bitch to sing live and play the drums simultaneously. Not enough air. By the time the first chorus ended, he was panting and trying to regain his breath. He hoped he'd sounded okay and not like an obscene phone caller. He was glad Rebekah decreased the volume on his mic when he wasn't actually singing. She did it so it didn't pick up the drums, but he was gasping for air, and his mic was sure to pick it up.
The playback in his ear suddenly sounded off to his drumming. Eric stumbled over a beat as he slowed to match the track. Sed entered the song several beats off, while the three guitarists struggled to keep up with Eric's attempts to regain control of the song.
"Marcus." He heard Rebekah's panicked voice in his ear. "Marcus, the playback is off. Marcus!"
She was right. That was the problem. The band was hearing the echo of the stadium sound rather than what they were actually playing.