Aftershock (32 page)

Oh, sweet Jesus!

He stilled, eyes closed as he took a moment to enjoy the feel of her surrounding him. She was so hot and tight, and the residual tremors in her pussy squeezed his shaft for all it was worth. Then, because he couldn’t wait any longer, he pulled back slightly and drove into her again. He took it as slow as he could, stunned that he’d reached the point of no return so fast.

He set up a cadence, in and out, watching her eyes for a sign that she was on the roller coaster again. He found her clit and rubbed it again and again, his fingers moving with every stroke of his cock.

There. There she was. He could see it in her eyes. Feel it in the clutch of her cunt walls. He accelerated the tempo and then she was with him. Faster. Harder. The orgasm hit them both at the same time with unexpected force. They rocked together as intense spasms overtook them and hurled them both into an erotic black-velvet space. He fell in great jerky movements, holding tightly to Sydney so she was anchored to him.

Then, it was over. Heart galloping, lungs dragging in air, he steadied himself as he lowered her legs to the bed. He had no desire to withdraw from her. He wanted to extend the intimacy of the moment as long as possible. The world outside ceased to exist and it was just the two of them.

He caught himself on his forearms so he wouldn’t bury her beneath his weight. Limp and drained, he rolled them to the side then adjusted himself so she was on top of him. He could still see her pulse hammering at the soft hollow of her throat. Her eyes were glazed with passion, her breathing unsteady.

“Tell me,” he insisted in a low, hungry tone. “Tell me, Syd.”

Bracing herself on his body, she leaned forward so her hair formed a thick curtain around them. And in that moment of seclusion she whispered to him, “I love you.”

He whispered back, searching for just the right words to tell her how he felt. They murmured to each other, hot words, erotic words, emotional words. It was so strange to him that, for a songwriter, at such a critical moment in his life, words deserted him.

In those quiet moments, when only the two of them existed, they shared their secrets. He told her about his family and the desertion of his father. She spoke to him of her Aunt Janine, the genesis of her desire to prove herself. To succeed. About The Plan. In the dark, everything was so much easier and they opened their hearts.

They lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, for what seemed like forever. At last, he forced himself to get up and deal with the condom. When he came back into the bedroom, she stood by the glass doors to the balcony, silhouetted by the ever-present moon. He wished he could make time stand still, freeze it for eternity, a moment when the rest of the world couldn’t intrude.

He walked over to where she stared outside the room and wrapped an arm around her.

“Putting on a show for the world?” He chuckled. “I think that kind of show should be for me only.”

“The lights are off. I don’t think anyone can see us. Or is even looking.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could shut out the world completely? Have it just the two of us?”

“You bet.” He tightened his arm around her. “Too bad we have to deal with tomorrow. On the other hand,” he laughed, “there is the tour.”

“Speaking of which….”

“I know. Talk to Butch about us. You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?”

“You’ve been involved in this world for a long time. So have I. I see what happens on the other side of the curtain. Rick, you have no idea how vicious some of these people can be. What they can write. Everything is great right now because the performances are outstanding. ‘Music Lady’ has captured everyone’s attention and the single is selling in astronomical numbers.”

“I hear a
but
coming.”

“Yes. But. There are people out there, as in every industry, who make it their business to knock people off their pedestals. They think being negative is what makes them experts. I don’t want that to happen to Lightnin’.”

“Neither do I.” He stroked her way with gentle movements of his fingers. “Why does this have to be so complicated?”

“Maybe because we’re both complicated people?”

He chuckled, “That we are. Okay, we’ll talk to him together first thing tomorrow.”

“I’ll text him as soon as I get up. Maybe we can all have breakfast together.”

“Meanwhile, we need to get out of the line of vision,” he joked. “We look like we’re posing for an adult magazine.”

“And you need to get back to your room. Okay?”

“Yeah, I know.” He let out a long breath. “But I don’t have to like it.”

“It won’t be forever,” she promised, hoping she was right. “We’ll brainstorm with Butch on the best way to let it leak. That is, if we have his support after we talk to him.”

He nodded and pulled her against him for one last, very long kiss. He insisted she wait by the door until he was out in the corridor so she could throw the locks right away. But he couldn’t resist turning to wink at her before walking on bare feet to his room next door. Idly he noticed the door to the room across from him was open a tiny bit, as if someone had used the security lock to prop it open.

Weird
.

Even stranger was the itchy feeling along his spine, almost a warning he’d missed something. But what?

Then he was inside his room, already missing the feel of Sydney against his body, her hands stroking every inch of him.

***

For Sydney, the day started with a bang. She checked her iPad before she even brushed her teeth and found more rave reviews about the concert, as well as a lot of traffic on the social-media platforms. Renee sent her a text with the latest sales figures on merchandise from the Web site and the local distributor assured her the additional goods had arrived and would be at the venue by early afternoon.

A text from Butch suggested breakfast in his suite to avoid any lurking media or wild-eyed fans and also gave her the latest rankings on the single. Her phone chimed constantly while she dressed: people who wanted a pass to the after-party, media who wanted more skinny on the band, a local deejay who wanted a short phone interview with Rick, which she scheduled.

With the meteoric rise of “Music Lady”
and the craze for Lightnin’ paraphernalia she now had major publications and music shows calling for some time with the band. She set up a tentative phone interview with some of them, pending Butch’s approval.

Their Facebook Likes and Twitter followers were at astronomical numbers. Not to mention even the lesser-known blogs were all about the band, shouting
Lightnin’ has struck!

“I think we need to revise the T-shirts,” Butch told them when they met. “Let’s capitalize on the slogan.”

“I’ll take care of it.” Sydney texted Renee even as they spoke. She nodded when the response came back. “Okay. She’s good to go. She’ll get onto the graphics people, get the new design, and send it to me on my iPad later today.”

“We can still sell what’s left with the original design,” Butch said, “but I really want to push the hell out of this one.”

“It means changing the logo on every type of swag,” Sydney pointed out.

“I know. Renee will get me the costs, and I’ll figure out the best way to handle it.” He refilled his coffee cup and leaned back in his chair. “So what’s really on your mind, kids? I can tell something’s up.”

In the end, it surprised them how easy he made their explanation.

“I had a sense something was up with you two. You can’t fool an old dog.” The words had a warmth to them and his approval was obvious.

“You might want Linc to send someone else out,” Sydney began, her voice and her posture both stiff.

Butch shook his head. “Not at all. You’re both professionals, and you’ve behaved accordingly on this tour. Sydney, Linc didn’t just pluck you out of your cubicle to do this. He and I spent some time going over who we thought would be the best person to handle this and we agreed it was you.”

Was that a blush she felt creeping up her cheeks? “Um, thank you, Butch. That means a lot to me.”

“You know how important this is,” he added, “and I don’t expect either of you to do anything to endanger it.”

“I can promise you that,” Sydney assured him. “And thank you.”

“Just be ultra-careful around Macey Schreiner. I don’t have to repeat what she is and the damage she can do. And let’s brainstorm about how we’re going to leak the news ourselves, maybe while the band is cutting the rest of the album. We’ve got some time to talk about it.”

“I want to assure you,” Sydney said, “that this isn’t my normal behavior pattern.”

Butch laughed. “If it was, you wouldn’t be handling Lightnin’ or traveling on the tour with us. Be sure you read Linc in on it but I’ll talk to him myself.”

“Thanks for the support,” Rick put in. “You know we won’t let you down.”

“We’ll do our best to be extra-careful,” Sydney assured him.

“But some things are beyond are control,” Rick added.

They spent another thirty minutes looking at the situation from all angles to make sure they had answers for any questions that could pop up. Sydney holed up in her roof for the rest of the day with her iPad and cell phone. She reviewed the list for the after-party, fielded calls from the media, worked the social-media platforms. At four, she again rode to the soundcheck with Butch and checked on the merchandise. Then Emma arrived and they shared the catered dinner with the band.

Sydney brought them up to date on all the latest reports. It was fun briefing them. They were so stunned by their unexpected success, they were like kids in a candy store.

When she followed the guys from the dressing room to the stage she sensed a difference in the air around them tonight. Lightnin’ was everywhere in the media, the reviews of the concert had been killer so far, and the single was rocketing out of sight. She had managed to get most of the phone interviews scheduled for the next couple of days and some high-powered folks were added to the after-party list.

Beyond the curtain, the voices of the audience drifted back to them. Everyone in the wings had a feeling of anticipation. Of expectation. Energy just crackled in the charged environment.

Sydney stood to the side with Emma and watched the band members take their places on the stage.

“I can hardly believe this,” Emma told her. “I feel as if we’re living a dream.”

Sydney grinned. “You are, but it’s one that won’t end. At least for a long time.”

Butch appeared next to them out of the backstage darkness.

“Merchandise is selling like crazy,” he told them. “Good thing we increased the order for this stop.”

Sydney just grinned at him.

At last it was show time.

The house lights dimmed and a local deejay walked out onto the stage. An earsplitting roar rose from the crowd and people began chanting for the band.

Rick hit the opening notes, the curtain slid away, and they were on.

The performance just knocked it out of the park. For both bands. The Marc-Emma thing with “Music Lady” brought the crowd to its feet and then Deep Blue River followed up with one of the best performances they’d ever given.

At the after-party, the sensation of riding a roller coaster still clung to Sydney. Conversations were layered over conversations and everyone jostled for face time with the members of both bands. Sydney was in constant motion, doing her best to keep things under control for Lightnin’ while Butch did the same for the River. She wondered as she shook yet another hand if she’d ever be as comfortable about this as Butch was.

She was just congratulating herself on all the juggling she’d been doing when she happened to glance at a corner of the backstage area.

Damn it to hell, anyway
.

Macey Shreiner stood so close to Rick there was barely room for a sheet of paper to slide between them and her hand rested possessively on his arm. Her mouth was curved in a hungry smile while Rick wore a look of panic.

Sydney excused herself from the small group she’d been chatting with and headed right for that spot. If the woman had a gun, Sydney was sure she’d be dead. Macey Shreiner was not used to being thwarted in anything. Right now, she wanted Rick and she didn’t intend to let Sydney stand in her way.

“So glad you could make it again tonight, Macey.” She put on her best professional smile and voice. “This gives me a chance to ask when your interview with Rick will run.”

“I think that depends on whatever incentive I have to run it sooner rather than later.” The look she gave Sydney was equal parts cunning and irritation.

Sydney counted to five. “Just let us know whatever we can do to facilitate things for you.”

“Well, for starters, you could convince Rick it’s okay to join me for a drink later. That would help a lot.”

Patience, Sydney
.

“I’d love to, but we have a really tight schedule. In fact,” she glanced to her left, “I see Butch beginning to wind things up right now.” She looked back at Macey. “You know how he is about his ‘boys’ getting in a party mode.”

“Butch Meredith needs to remember who butters his bread,” Macey snapped. Then, reeling herself in with obvious effort, she looked up at Rick with that same greedy smile. “I’m hoping my guy here can make you understand how much he’d like to do this.” She looked back at Sydney. “No keeping all the goodies for yourself, you know.”

Sydney just stared at the woman. She was searching for the right words when Butch moved into place beside her.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” he told the reporter. “You know we’re always honored to have you at our events and appreciate all the good words you write about my clients.”

“I could write better words if I could get some time alone with them, Butch.”

He laughed, although Sydney could see the lines of irritation around his mouth. “Nice try, Macey. Let me ease the loss for you by giving you an exclusive on what we’re about to do with the new logo. We’re already revising it. I can make sure you get the first sketches.”

Exerting firm pressure on Macey’s arm, he guided her away from Rick.