Heartstrings (12 page)

Time loses all meaning as the band continues to play. We all
descend into mayhem together, until no one can remember any world other than
the one that the band has created here. Against all reason, I long to throw
myself onto the stage, into the audience, to be as close as I can be to the
raging, charged energy that surges through the entire space. I want to feel the
press of bodies all around me, I want to be tossed into the air and carried
along by hundreds of strange hands. I want to race through the pit, dodging
fists and pushing past skirmishes. I want to throw myself at Slade’s feet and
soak up the fury of his epic performance. I want to be right there with him now
and forever.

Just as I’m working up the nerve, just as I think that I can
truly toss myself into the fray, Slade lifts his arms triumphantly. The crowd
ceases its furious antics and turns its attention to him. I bring my body to a
halt, my chest is working furiously to suck in air. It’s over. The show is
finished. Turning their backs to the cheering crowd, the members of Flagrant
Disregard make their way offstage. I stand rooted to the spot as Slade heads
straight toward me.

He stalks my way, his entire body seems bigger, stronger,
more alive than I’ve ever seen it. He looks like he could tear through chain
link, or concrete, or sheet metal if he wanted to. I know that he sees me, and
I know that he’s placed me here for a reason. He wanted me to see him in this
state, to see the change that comes over him when he performs. He wants to know
if I can handle it, if I want him like this. And I’m going to show him how much
I do.

As he gets closer, I know that he can see how game I really
am. He can see the wild, furious glee in my smile, the sweat rolling down my
skin, the charged, aching satisfaction coursing through me. Wordlessly, I tell
him how much I want him. He doesn’t even pause to greet me as he approaches. In
one swift motion, he draws up before me and sweeps me into his strong arms.
Slade brings me close to him, and I hungrily leap up into his embrace, and wrap
my legs around his hips.

He carries me two paces and pushes my back up against the
backstage wall. We’re hidden behind the thick black curtains of the stage,
tucked away in our own corner of the surging, full arena. I run my hands
through his wet curls and bring my mouth eagerly to his. His hands grip my ass,
as he kisses me deeply, letting his tongue glide against mine. He tastes like
sweat and ire and lust, and I savor it. I tighten my legs around him, arching
my back against the wall. Our mouths move together, our tongues sliding and
probing into the other’s mouth. I’m dizzy with the taste of him, drunk on his
sudden passion.

I let my hands trail down his firm chest, running along the
strong, muscular planes. My breasts press against him, tantalizing him. He pins
me to the wall with his hips, and he brings his hands up and cups my breasts. I
let out a moan, the sound vibrates against his lips. My dress is bunched up
around my waist as he lets his thumbs glance across my hard, erect nipples. I
grip the small of his back, kissing him furiously as he kneads my tender flesh.
Our hands and mouths are full of one another. We’re surrounded by the ecstatic,
unimaginable energy he’s just created out of thin air. I want him right now,
right here, with this entire world orbiting around us. But some nagging
rational part of my mind knows that I’ll have to wait a little while longer.

He breaks away from our kiss, grinning at me in the
darkness. His strong hands lower me down onto the ground, and I fall heavily
back against the wall. We’re inches apart, our chests heaving with desire. I
smile up at him, shaking my head in amazement.

“So, that’s a rock concert,” I say, “Are they all this
exciting?”

“This is the most excited I’ve ever been at one,” he laughs.

“You don’t say,” I grin.

“Come on,” he says, taking me by the hand.

He leads me through the backstage world, pulling me along
through the maze of doors and hallways. Crew members are bustling all around
us, calling out to each other, breaking down the stage, moving platforms and
instruments. We weave through the bustle together, Slade towing me along. I run
to keep up with him, my hair snapping behind me. How he knows where he’s going,
I have no idea.

We finally break through the block of motion and come to the
backstage door. The portal opens to us as if by magic, and a hundred flashbulbs
begin to fire away. Slade pulls me along with him, out into this new
cacophonous riot. Fans and paparazzi are clamoring for Slade’s attention, but
even as he indulges them with autographs and roughish smiles, he keeps my hand
firmly in his. I blink out at the cameras and prying eyes, stunned by the
intensity of their adoration and focus. I’ve never seen anything like this.

Anders is waiting at the end of the stretch, standing with
the door of the town car held open. We vault toward the car together and climb
into the backseat. Slade slams the door, and we peel away from the venue, tires
screeching.

Chapter Eight

* * * * *

I fall back against the leather seat, suddenly exhausted and
overwhelmed. My whole body feels utterly limp, and I don’t think I could
possibly move a muscle if I tried. I fall against Slade’s side, and he throws
an arm around my shoulders, and pulls me against his body. I close my eyes,
resting my cheek against his muscular body. For a long moment, we sit together
in silence, savoring our privacy.

“So,” he says, almost sheepishly, “What did you think of
your first rock concert?”

“It was...something,” I say, at a loss for words.

“That sounds like a good thing,” Slade laughs, pulling me closer.
“You weren’t freaked out at all, were you?”

“I know I should have been,” I say, “The way the crowd
worked, the way they reacted to you...I know it should have freaked me out, but
it was just...exciting.”

“Very,” Slade agrees, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my
ear. “It can be a lot to handle at first, though.”

“Please,” I say jokingly, “I’m an ER nurse, Slade. I can
handle anything.”

“I should have known,” he says. “You want some champagne or
what?”

“Sure,” I say. He reaches for the still-chilled bottle and
fills a couple of flutes as we race through the city. He hands me one with a
big grin on his face.

“Cheers,” he says, “To you, above all else.”

“To you,” I counter, “And to whatever the hell just happened
back in the wings of the stage.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, his voice scraping along the
bottom of his register.

I could tell back there that he was trying very hard to
restrain himself, to make sure that we didn’t move along any faster than I
wanted to. I don’t know what I was more turned on by, the way he kissed or the
fact that he was trying to hold himself back for my benefit. I knew that it
would be wiser to take things slow between us, but that concert had been so
electric, so full of life and energy that it was hard to contain myself. I take
a deep drink of champagne and settle back against the leather.

“Things get pretty intense at your shows, huh?” I ask.

“Every time,” he says, “Our fans are pretty devoted. They’re
a weird mix of hardcore and emo kids, sometimes both. It makes for a pretty
exciting scene. We try to challenge the norm. We don’t rely too heavily on any
one genre, so that we come up with something unique.”

“I’ve definitely never heard anything like you before,” I
say, “Slade, your voice...It’s incredible. There’s something so urgent, and
consuming, and...just beautiful about it.”

“Beautiful,” Slade says, pondering the word, “I don’t think
I’ve ever heard myself described as beautiful.”

I think back to how I thought the very same thing only a few
days ago, when he called me beautiful for the first time.

“But you are,” I tell him, “I hope you take that as a
compliment. I mean it as one. You’re a gorgeous person, Slade. And I don’t just
mean physically. Though, let’s be real...There’s something else about you.
Something radiant. It’s no wonder so many people come out to see you, and
depend on you for release. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever met.”

“Julia...” he says, looking at me intently, “Thank you. That
means more coming from you than it would from a thousand screaming fans.”

“Thousands, by my count,” I smile.

“Still,” he says, leaning in close to me. I feel my body
respond immediately. Just when I think I can’t possibly be more overwhelmed
with sensation, this new closeness sets my nerve endings on fire. I drain my
champagne flute and set it down, turning toward Slade on my knees.

His eyes rake all across my body, drinking in the sight of
me kneeling before him in the backseat of the town car. Slowly, deliberately, I
lower my hands to the leather and begin to crawl towards him. A low groan
escapes his lips as I approach, and my eyes flick down to the front of his
black jeans. I can already see him bulging there, waiting for me. A deep,
throbbing, longing desire ripples through the very core of me, and radiates through
every cell of my body.

He grabs hold of my hips and swings me up over his body so
I’m straddling him on the seat. I feel the hard length of him pressed right
where I want it, against the aching, wet place between my legs. I rest my hands
on his hard chest and grind my hips against his, savoring the feel of his
stiffness as it rubs against me. His fingers dig into my hips, his eyes are
closed blissfully. I lean forward so that my breasts are pressed firmly against
his chest. I run my hands down along the muscular length of him, and I kiss his
neck deeply, relishing the salty sweat still glistening there. His hands glide
down over my ass as I run my tongue lightly along his collarbone, bucking my
hips ever so gently.

His hands caress the round rise of my ass, and travel down
the smooth backs of my thighs. I gasp as his fingers glance against the tender
skin there, the untouched inches of my body. He brings his hands around and
slowly spreads my legs further apart. I’m already dripping wet at his touch, and
I hold onto his broad shoulders, laying kiss after kiss on his smooth skin. His
hands brush against my inner thighs, and my legs are already trembling. He
pushes up the hem of my dress, bunching it around my hips.

I hold my breath as he lets two fingers slip inside my thin
panties. He moans as he feels how wet the little strip of fabric has become. I
arch my back as he rests his fingers against my throbbing slit. Slowly,
deliciously, he runs them along the full length of me, taking his time. He
strokes me lightly at first, gently. I hold his face in my hands and lower my
mouth to his. His tongue presses into my mouth as he runs his fingers deeper
within my silky folds. A shudder runs through by body at the overwhelming
sensations. I gasp, my mouth open against his, as he slides his fingers inside
of me.

He flexes his strong digits, and I let my head fall back.
His long strokes are sending me into a dizzy haze. I close my eyes, and all the
world is Slade. A low, guttural moan escapes my lips as he slides his
fingertips from within me to that tender, aching nub. He rolls the little
button between his fingers, kneading and rubbing me fast and hard. A deep,
sweet pressure starts to build inside as he flicks and twirls me toward orgasm.
I bury my fingers in his dark curls and buck against his powerful fingers,
breathing hard. I’m on the edge, lingering just beyond the threshold of
incredible bliss. I let my eyes rest on his intense features. His lips part
slightly, his eyes are closed, and the sight of him in pleasure from pleasing
me sends me over the edge…

I cry out as he runs his fingers firmly around my hard,
throbbing nub. I come hard, my mouth open in a silent howl. He strokes me as
the waves of pleasure pass through my body, and my legs tremble so violently
that they can barely hold me up. The wall of bliss crashes over me, harder than
it ever has. I fall against his body, and the sensation peaks grandly. As I
pant furiously, resting against him, he lets his arms fall around me, drawing
me into a strong embrace. He holds me to him, and I’m happy to stay.

“Thank you for being there tonight,” he says into my hair.

“Don’t mention it,” I breathe, struggling to string words
together. If I wasn’t spent before, I’m surely done for now. I stay, cradled in
his arms, as the town car carries us ever forward. I’ve never been so content
in my entire life, so happily worn out. I nearly fall asleep as the motion of
the car soothes me. I feel so safe in his strong embrace.

“Here we are,” he says, after what feels like an hour.

I blink sleepily through the window and see that we’re back
in front of my house. I look at him, a bit taken aback. “Aren’t we going to go
to some crazy after party?” I ask.

“Julia,” he laughs, “Don’t you have to be at the hospital in,
like, eight hours?”