Wicked Innocence (8 page)

Micah

Lights flashed everywhere. I struggled to take it all in. Vegas was everything I imagined it would be. Even mid-week¸ there were people everywhere.

We’d just finished our show in a hotel in the middle of the strip and the guys had deserted us in favor of getting drunk and doing God knows what else. Like most nights, Sax and I found ourselves alone, this time on the roof of the hotel.

I reached for my bottle of water and looked out over the stunning skyline. The sheer number of people here was amazing. The show had been packed. It was by far the biggest crowd I’d sung to in my life, and as terrifying as it was, hearing that applause and cheering at the end had made it all worth it.

“So, what do you actually
do
?” I blushed as he raised his eyebrows at me. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant as the manager—what does that actually involve?” I asked.

“I find shows for you guys to perform at. Like this. The whole point of this group of shows is to drum up more exposure for you guys. The more people who know about you, the better. That makes it easier for me to try and secure shows for you at festivals, or as openers for bigger bands.”

“Like the LA music festival?” I asked.

He nodded. “Exactly. I’m about ninety-five percent sure I’ll be able to get you guys on the list.”

“Wow,” I murmured. “Have you seen the headline acts for that?”

“I have,” he laughed. “Arctic Monkeys, Bloc Party, Empire of the Sun…”

Shit. Performing in front of bands like that and for
fans
of bands like that? That was insane. I felt sick just thinking about it.

“You’ve gone a little green there, M. Everything okay?” he chuckled and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Look, you sang in front of me that night at the bar and you did awesome. Don’t think about who is watching. Just focus on you and what’s in your head.”

“Deep,” I teased, nudging him. “Did you ever get nervous when you sang?”

“All the fucking time. I used to throw up every night before I did a show. Then I used to drink way too much after it,” he added with a laugh as he rubbed his chin.

My stomach flipped as I watched his fingers run over his stubble. He was in need of a shave, but damn it was sexy. His hair had grown a little, too—just enough that the ends were beginning to show a little bit of curl.

I looked away and sighed. I knew what I was doing and it was a bad, bad idea. There was only one way something like that could end: badly. As if he’d be interested in me anyway. I was way too young for him. Even younger than he realized, and it was so easy for me to forget that.

“The first show I ever did I threw up on stage,” he admitted.

I burst into laughter. “You’re kidding! Bullshit,” I challenged. That was the kind of thing that would’ve ended up on YouTube if it were true.

“True story,” he argued with a grin. “I was five, and it was the end of year play. We did
Oliver Twist
and I threw up all over a girl. To make things worse, I had the biggest crush on her. I was mortified.”

“Poor little Saxon,” I giggled. “I can’t believe that didn’t ruin you for life.”

“It did for a few years. The kids called me Chuckles all the way through until high school.”

“Kids can be cruel,” I agreed. “How the hell did you get past that and become the rock God you were?”

“Rock God?” he grinned.

I blushed. “I said ‘were,’” I shot back.

He laughed. “Music was the one thing that was always there for me. It was the one thing in my life I knew I could count on. I’d be playing my guitar in the park or on the beach, and people would stop and listen. So I started playing for tips just to give me some confidence. From there, I ended up with a few regular gigs in a couple of coffee houses and bars.” He shrugged.

“It must’ve been hard to give it all up,” I said softly.

“At the time, it was a relief. I was in way over my head. The fame was drowning me. And I haven’t lost the music. I still sing. I still play my guitar every day. Though these days it’s only Broosky who hears me,” he laughed.

“Do you ever miss it?”

He thought for a second and then shrugged. “Sometimes. I miss the way music can make a person feel. I miss being able to do that. But the person I was…I don’t miss him.”

“Is that why you haven’t gone back? I mean, you’re still Saxon Waite. If you put out music, people would listen. Are you afraid you’ll turn into that guy again?”

He laughed and shook his head. “How about we talk about you for a while?” he suggested. I groaned and he laughed. “See—you love asking questions, but you hate answering them.”

“I’m shy,” I grinned.

“Bullshit. I don’t believe that. I’ve met shy girls before, and you’re not one of them.”

If only he knew. Around him, I felt like I could open myself up that little bit more, but that didn’t change who I was. It only made things harder.

“I’ve never even had a boyfriend,” I blurted out. As soon as the words left my mouth I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. I’d been with guys before, but nothing ever more than a one night stand here and there.

He grinned at me and shook his head. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re twenty-one and hot as fuck.”

I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. He thinks I’m hot? Not only hot, but hot as fuck? Was it acceptable for me to start squealing right now? Probably not.

“I didn’t mean…” He shook his head, flustered.

“What? You
don’t
think I’m hot?” I teased.

His face went redder. “No. I mean…Fuck.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “I shouldn’t have said that, is what I meant. I’m your manager. And I’m way too old for you.”

My heart raced. That was as close as I was ever going to get to an admission from him that he liked me. The sensible thing for me to do would be let it pass and move on. Only I wasn’t feeling very sensible at the moment…

“So you
do
think I’m hot?” I said, my voice soft.

His eyes met mine. “What do you think?” he asked, pained.

I tilted my head slightly, letting my hair fall over my shoulder. He let out a growl and leaned forward. His hand slipped around the back of my neck. I jumped, the feel of his warm skin against mine electric.

“I think I want you to kiss me,” I whispered, pressing my lips together.

He pulled my face toward his. My heart pounded as his mouth met mine, his soft lips melting into my kiss. I let out a moan as his tongue flicked against mine, his hands caressing my neck.

Oh God, this is heaven.
Everything about him left me feeling frazzled. And then it was over. He pulled away, his forehead creased in frustration.

“Fuck,” he cursed, running his hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I’m glad you did,” I whispered, hardly believing I had let yet another dangerous admission escape my brain and take on a life of their own.

He looked at me, surprised. “Micah…” he hesitated, and I knew what was coming.

I stood up suddenly, flashing him a smile. “I better get to bed,” I said brightly. I had no intention of going to sleep just yet, but I knew I had to avoid this conversation.

He nodded, giving me a small smile. “Sleep well.”

Sax

Why the fuck had I kissed her? Of all the stupid things I’d done, this was up there at the top of the list. I’d thought with my dick. We
couldn’t
get involved. I shifted the van into fourth, slamming my foot down on the clutch. I glanced in the mirror at Micah, who was sitting with Liam, staring out the window. Any other time she would’ve jumped in the front with me, but I’d obviously embarrassed her. Either that or she was avoiding the conversation she knew was coming.

Fuck
. Harry, who sat next to me, raised his eyebrows.

“Don’t even start, man,” I muttered.

“I didn’t say a word,” he replied, amused. Fucking idiot. The last thing I needed right now was his fucking arrogant attitude. “So, you and Micah have been spending a bit of time together.”

“Yeah? Could say the same about you,” I replied.

“Hey, no need to be so defensive, cuz. I’m just trying to be friendly. You know, make conversation. Being civil and all that.”

Bullshit. With Harry, he always had an agenda—one that usually involved winding me up.

I didn’t reply, refusing to fall into whatever trap he was trying to set for me. Instead, I reached for the radio and turned it up. I kept my eyes on the road, ignoring his chuckling. My hands clenched the wheel as I struggled to contain the anger that was bubbling inside me. Harry wasn’t helping, but it was myself I was pissed at.

See, it wasn’t just the management thing with Micah. In fact, that probably had little to do with it. She was four years younger than me. That was huge. I didn’t do girlfriends. I’d never had a serious relationship in my life, and she was so young and impressionable. But there was something different about her. I woke up thinking about her. She was the last thing I thought about when I closed my eyes at night.

When she sang, it was like she was singing only for me. Watching the words leave her lips drove me crazy, because all I could think about was how they would taste, how they would feel.

And all kissing her had done was make me want her even more.

***

Less than two hours later, we pulled into a small motel a hundred miles from Vegas in a pissy little town called Pinson Creek. We had two shows there, so we’d decided to fork out the cash for a few rooms. I was looking forward to sleeping in a real bed and having a shower—considering I hadn’t had one for two days.

Besides, I needed time to think about shit and I couldn’t do that with her around. I couldn’t think straight at all when she was in the same room as me.

“Gotta be at the bar by nine, so do your own thing and meet me out here at eight thirty,” I muttered.

“Are you going to let us know who’s bunking with who? I don’t mind sharing with Micah,” Harry said. He grinned at me as his arm threaded around her shoulder.

She shifted uncomfortably, shooting me a look.

“You four will share. Micah will have her own room and so will I.”

“Why do we have to share while you two get your own rooms?” Harry argued.

“Because she’s the only fucking female and I’m your fucking manager,” I growled. I stalked off before he could respond. The bell above the door rang as I walked into the tiny office, alerting the attendant sitting behind the desk to my presence.

He didn’t look up. I stood there for two minutes. Still nothing. He continued to flip through his magazine.

“Sorry—if you’re too busy we can go elsewhere,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“No you won’t. We’re the only motel in a hundred miles.”

Fucking little shit.

“Look, I’ve had a hell of a day. All I want to do is pay for three fucking rooms, take a shower, and not have to put up with any more shit. Is that too much to ask?”

He glanced up, his expression disinterested.

Well, at least I have his attention.

“ID and registration details. And we only have two rooms available.”

“Fine,” I said, gritting my teeth.
Looks like I’ll be sleeping in the van.
Digging through my wallet, I slapped my ID down on the counter. So much for a long, hot shower and a good night’s sleep.

I walked back over to where the guys were standing around waiting for me. I threw a key at Harry, and the other at Micah. Turning around, I opened the door of the van.

“What are you doing?” asked Micah. The guys had wandered off, leaving us alone. She stared at me, her brow furrowed. “You’re staying in there?”

“They only had two rooms,” I muttered. “It’s fine. I’m good in here.”

“For God’s sake, Sax. I think we are both grown up enough to handle sleeping in the same room.”

She might be. I’m not.

“At least come and get a shower,” she added, cutting into my silence.

A shower does sound good.

Sighing, I nodded. Slamming the door of the van shut, I followed her over to her room. My eyes wandered over her ass as she stood in front of me, fiddling with the lock. My cock twitched at the sight of her creamy white thighs.

God, those shorts are fucking short
.

“You can shower first. I have to email my friend,” she said, walking over to the bed furthest from the door. Twin beds.
No, bad, bad idea.

I walked into the bathroom and locked the door. The shower was over a bath and rusty as hell, but the water was hot and that was all I really needed. As steam filled the stuffy little room, I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the tub.

God, yes. Just like that, all my frustration melted away. It was amazing what a hot shower could do for a foul mood. I reached for the bottle of body wash and squeezed a generous amount into my hand, soaping my body up into a lather.

Thank God there were only a few days left on this damn tour, because I was just about at my breaking point with Micah. Seeing her every second of the day was killing me. I couldn’t believe I’d done something as stupid as kissing her—especially in a situation such as this, where we couldn’t get away from each other.

But that kiss had been fucking amazing. I felt my cock harden against my hand as I soaped myself up. Resting my arm against the wall of the shower, I wrapped my fingers around my shaft and began to milk it up and down. Closing my eyes, I stifled a groan as I pictured her sitting out there on the bed in those tiny little shorts. She had no fucking idea how badly I wanted to tug them down and feel myself inside her.

“Fuck, yeah,” I muttered as my rhythm sped up. How good would her mouth feel wrapped around my cock? Would she suck hard, or move nice and slow, building up the tension inside of me until I couldn’t take it anymore?

My fingers pressed against the tiles as my body began to tense. I was close. So fucking close. My fingers moved furiously over my throbbing shaft. With every pump I was sure it would be the last until I finally released. I gasped, my muscles clenching as the last of the orgasm surged through me.

I washed myself again, not sure whether I should be feeling ashamed or relieved about what I’d just done. She was sitting no more than ten feet away from me with only a wall separating us, and had no idea that I’d just jacked myself off while thinking about her.

Think about her all you want so long as you don’t go there.

After I had dressed, I walked back into the room. I couldn’t look her in the eye—not without risking another hard-on. “Thanks,” I mumbled, heading for the door.

“For God’s sake, Sax, just stay in the damn room or I swear I’ll sleep outside on the footpath.” She shook her head, frustrated. “It’s not like we have to share a bed this time. And don’t worry, I’m pretty sure I can control myself.”

But I’m not sure I can. Especially when you look at me like that.

“Fine,” I said, gritting my teeth.

***

We arrived at the Crimson Bar just before nine. The guys weren’t due to start until nine thirty, but the extra half hour was always needed to set up, run sound tests, and get a feel for the crowd. I glanced around the deserted parking lot. Not that it looked like we had that much of a crowd to worry about.

I went inside as the guys unloaded the equipment. My contact there was a guy named Ben. After asking a few people, I was directed to a man who looked to be in his fifties, standing behind the bar.

“You’re from the band,” he said, as I walked over.

I nodded. “Saxon Waite. I’m the manager for Resurrection.” I glanced around the empty bar as he let out an embarrassed laugh.

“We’ve had some issues with the health and safety department. They’ve closed us down for tonight. It’s just a fuckload of bullshit, but I can’t open this place until I get through the red tape.”

Fucking great.

“Well, that sucks,” I muttered. I rubbed my jaw, trying to think of our next move. We had two nights booked at this dive. If this guy couldn’t guarantee us a show for tomorrow night and the next at least, should we stay, or just head on to Vegas early?

“Look, I’ll cover the costs of the show as promised if you wouldn’t mind sticking it out until I get this sorted. You guys have quite the following here, and I’ll have some very pissed off customers if I can’t deliver.”

I nodded slowly. “We’re staying at the motel just outside of town. If you can cover our costs, then we’re even, okay?”

He nodded and slapped my hand into a shake. “Deal. You might as well go out and enjoy our little town.”

I nodded. “You have my number. Keep me updated?”

“Sure. Thanks for being so understanding, Saxon.”

“No problem,” I said.

I walked toward the exit, wondering what the fuck I was going to tell the guys. Pushing my way outside, I saw they had all the equipment unpacked already. “Pack it back up. Place has been closed by health and safety.”

“What the fuck, Sax?” Harry cried, jumping in my face. “You booked us two shows here, dude. That’s the whole weekend gone.”

“Yeah, because it’s my fault the place got closed? Settle the fuck down. Our accommodation’s are covered, and he’s trying to get the place back open for tomorrow night.”

“And what do we do in the meantime?” he grumbled, kicking at the gravel with his shoe.

I let out a laugh. He was like a fucking five-year-old sometimes. “Do whatever you want. Enjoy all the wonders of Pinson Creek. It’s Friday night. Live it up.”

“I think I saw a strip club just down the road,” piped up Kam. “Who’s in?” He clapped his hands together, a smile spreading across his face.

I scowled at him. Did he have no clue?

“What?” he said, a confused expression crossing his face.

I nudged my head toward Micah.

“Oh…” his voice trailed off.

Enter awkward silence.

“Hey, if you guys want to leer over naked women, don’t let me stop you,” Micah said with a shrug. “I could use a drink. Where is this place?”

“Yeah!” Kam said, nodding with enthusiasm as he high-fived her. “I knew you were a cool chick.”

What the fuck? There was no way she was going to a strip club—or any of us, for that matter.

“Let’s just go back to the motel and chill,” I suggested, my voice weary.

“What’s the matter, Sax? You’d never have passed up the chance to have naked women rubbing all over you in the past,” Harry challenged.

Micah raised her eyebrows, shifting her body so she didn’t have to look at me.

Fuck you, Harry.

My past was just that: the past. Yes, the old Sax would’ve been down at that club faster than you could ask. Hell, he would’ve had one of the strippers bent over his car out back—never mind the no touching policy.

But things were different now. I was different. I’d learned the hard way that your life can fuck up pretty damn quickly. And nobody knew that better than Harry.

“Fine,” I muttered. I didn’t care anymore. I had no interest in going, but I’d be fucked if I was leaving Micah alone—in a strip club—with these guys.