LOW: A Rockstar Romance (27 page)

Chapter Twenty

Madeline

I dialed and hit the call button before I could psych myself out any further. Why did I feel like I was asking someone out on a date?

"Hello?" Harlow sounded breathless and harried, and I almost hung up in a panic.

But I didn't. "Hey, Harlow? This is Madeline Cole."

A pause. "Maddie!" Then her voice dropped to a sympathetic whisper. "How are you feeling?"

I had to laugh. "Well, the hangover didn't last three whole days, thank god. I'm fine now."

"You were..." She trailed off and I could tell she was searching for a tactful description.

"Drunk as a skunk?"

She laughed. "In so many words."

I took a deep breath. "That's why I was calling. I wanted to thank you for, um, helping Rane with me."

She made a scoffing sound. "Pfft. Girl code. You would have done the same."

I hoped she was right. "Well, er, it was cool of you, especially since we only just met." I swallowed awkwardly and barreled ahead before she could agree that yeah, we were basically strangers and to have a nice life... "And there's this thing tonight. Rane invited me. It's called a buzz gig? I was wondering if you felt like coming."

She hesitated a second. "You want me to, like, be your date?"

I bit my lip.
Yes.
I told her silently.
He invited me as a friend. He is only my friend. What better way to stay friends than for me to, um, bring a friend, I guess? Except all my friends bailed on me when I hit rock bottom and you're the only girl who has been nice to me in a long time so please, please...
"Sure, if your boyfriend doesn't mind?" I said, breezily, easily.
Acting.

She laughed a little too loudly. "Casper's being an entitled dickwad. Apparently I'm being too needy when I ask when he's next getting a break from touring. Ass. It'd be nice to do something on a weeknight other than wait around until he remembers to call. Sure, Maddie, thanks a bunch. What time?"

*****

Harlow slid into the passenger seat of my car and shot me a grateful smile. "Thanks, Maddie," she huffed. "I was planning on spending the night in a threesome with Ben and Jerry, but this is a much better idea."

"Well, I have to admit, I'm not exactly sure how good of an idea it is," I confessed. "I have no idea what a buzz gig is."

"Oh, well, that's easy," she explained, tucking her handbag under the seat. "Casper had a bunch of these to go on before Jax started the tour. It's called a buzz gig 'cause it’s supposed to build up buzz, but what it actually turns out to be is," she affected a slouchy drawl and stuffed her hand down the front of her pants, "'a bunch of industry fuckwads crammed in a room too small to hold everyone where they congratulate each other over being cool enough to see a band they're not even paying attention to.'"

I had to imagine that was a direct quote.

I grimaced. "Well, that sounds fucking delightful."

She waved her hand. "Eh, it'll be fun. Ruthless puts on a hell of a show, even when they're crammed into a small space. Maybe we can start our own mosh pit."

I nodded. "Mad Maddie in a mosh pit. That'll cement my reputation for sure."

"Pfft, stop worrying about what everyone's thinking of you, Maddie. You're pretty cool." She said this casually, like it wasn't exactly the thing I needed to hear.

"I think you're pretty cool, too, Harlow," I said, aiming for fun and friendly, and landing more at shy and nervous.

She glanced at me, her bright red lips twisted in an amused smirk, and looked like she was about to say something, when a trilling little alert sounded from her handbag. She rolled her kohl-rimmed eyes. "Oh my God, he finally texts me when I have something going on. Fucking figures."

"Do you want to see what he has to say?" I asked, curious.

"No. Let him stew for a while." She folded her arms and blew a little puff of air out of the corner of her mouth, sending her flat-ironed bangs floating skyward. "Tonight is girls' night."

"Girls' night," I answered solemnly, feeling like we had just signed a pact in blood.
Girls' night,
I reminded myself as I walked up to the venue and saw a poster of Ruthless outside with Rane's gorgeous face on display.
Girls' night,
I reminded myself as I went to the bar and saw a bottle of Grey Goose just waiting for me to drink too much of it and end up in his bed.
Girls' night,
I reminded myself as I made lame conversation with Harlow, all the while keeping one eye on the stage waiting to see him again.

We were shoulder to shoulder, crammed in like sardines. This space was small— intimate would be how it would normally be described— but with all the lights and rigging, it felt downright claustrophobic. I pictured the five members of Ruthless, all shoulder to shoulder up there on that tiny little stage, and wondered how the hell they'd ever be able to move an inch. But no one around me was even looking towards the stage. I heard loud shouted laughter, the sound of air kisses, the idle chatter of business connections being made and backroom deals getting nailed down. It was an old, familiar sound, but one that didn't seem to fit me anymore. I was here to see a band. I wasn't here to be seen.

This was new.

The lights dimmed and a few scattered claps petered out. I looked at Harlow, who cracked open a beer can and raised it. "Ruuuuuuuuthless!" she bellowed, holding her hand up in a horned salute.

I laughed. "Woooooo!" I shouted. "Yeah, baby!"

"Yow! Take it off!" Harlow ululated as the guys walked onstage.

"Woo! Woo! Woo!" I clapped. "Freebird!"

Harlow barked out laughing and joined my chant. "Freebird! Freebird!" She fell against my arm, giggling. I hooted as the lights went black.

The spots hit the stage and a crashing wall of sound slammed into my chest, knocking the silliness right out of me.

I stared.

And suddenly I understood why Rane was a star.

No, not a star. A whole fucking universe.

He pogoed in place for a moment, thrashing the hell out of his guitar like it had angered him, before leaping up onto one of the amp stacks and pounding out a solo up there. I was dimly aware of Keir singing, of Twitch beating out staccato bursts, of the chest-wall-vibrating thud of Balzac's bass...but nothing, nothing could tear my eyes from Rane.

He jumped again, higher this time, weaving his way closer to the ceiling. "He always does that!" Harlow shouted in my ear. "He's like a fucking mountain goat, always has to be getting higher."

"I see that," I answered. Or maybe I didn't. Watching him was robbing me of coherent thought.

I wanted to be friends with him? Friends? Maybe I could have imagined that as possible a moment ago, before I saw him play. But now,
now
the notion of being friends with Rane Wilder was as futile as the notion of befriending a wild animal. Or riding a stallion, or harnessing a tornado or taming a tidal wave. I had to laugh at my naiveté.

I looked down and saw I was moving. I didn't know I was moving. But Rane's guitar was pulling me, playing me like a puppet. I was in his thrall, a slave to his music. And the longer I stood here, the more I needed to stay standing here. When the second song ended, I was close enough to see the sweat beading along his forehead. I wanted to taste it.

I knew exactly how his body would look naked. We had started our "friendship" lying next to each other in bed, naked but for inconsequential scraps of cloth to hide the naughty bits. I knew everything about how his body looked under his clothes, except for one small...not so small part.

I wanted to see him naked again.

Especially
that
part.

"Maddie!" Harlow shouted in my ear, interrupting my /files/20/62/05/f206205/public/private fantasy. "I'm gonna go get some more drinks. You want anything?"

I shook my head. "No thanks," I said, lifting my arm, then just dropping it to my side. I couldn't tell what my body was doing anymore. Rane controlled it with his music.

No, this is crazy.
He's just playing guitar. Just doing his job, the way I was doing mine when I laid in bed next to him. There's nothing here. There can't be.

I tore my eyes away from him, just long enough to see Harlow returning, her entire expression transformed into one of ebullient joy. I cocked my head at her, wondering what had made her so utterly transformed.

She grabbed my elbow and steered me off into a corner away from the driving sound of the speakers. For one second I was angry, until I collected myself, and then I was grateful for her intrusion. I was dangerously close to the edge.

"Maddie, I'm so sorry, this is completely shitty of me to do, but, well, here…" She held up her phone in front of my face. The picture icon showed a smiling Harlow kissing a pale guy cradling a guitar. Underneath it was a picture message, a familiar front door with the caption, "Surprise, babe! Open up!"

Understanding flooded me. "He's at your place?"

She laughed. "He was being an asshole so he didn't ruin the surprise! They're on a break for the next three weeks. Three weeks, Maddie! I haven't seen him that long since we first started dating, back before he's joined Jaxson's band. Holy shit, Maddie…"

"What are you going to do?"

"What? I feel terrible bailing on you. And you look like you're having such a good time, I don't want to make you leave…"

"Are you kidding me? Go! He's at your house right now, right?"

She nodded. I reached into my purse and shoved some bills into her hand. "Here's cab fare. Don't even worry about it."

She gave me a quick, tight hug, and dashed out the front door.

I wasn't sad to see her go.

I was relieved.

I turned back to the stage.

Rane coiled around his guitar, moving with sinuous danger like a snake poised to strike. And when the chorus slammed down on our heads, he struck. The frantic energy of his fast-fingered playing pummeled us with an onslaught so merciless that when Keir finally wailed the last soaring note, I was left drained, drunk and unable to tear my eyes from Rane.

I'm alone...

...with him....

And then, when his head whipped up and his eyes landed on mine, we were the only ones in the room.

I was no longer pressed in on all sides, hemmed in by the shoulders of the glitterati. I was alone with Rane as he played the next notes only for me - twisting and turning my body with his music so that we were locked in our own very private dance.

This is what I was afraid of. There it is.
The familiar loss of control. I felt it spiral away, slipping through my fingers as Rane's music blasted the composed shell away from me, shattering me like a fragile eggshell to reveal the slippery stuff inside. I was helpless in the face of my rising need.

And fuck it.

This time, I didn't want to regain control.

Chapter Twenty-One

Rane

A lifetime of bad decisions still hadn't prepared me for how badly I had fucked up by inviting her tonight.

Just friends.
Bullshit. There was no way I could be just friends with this girl. Not when she stared at me, her face the only one I could see in a sea of indistinct faces, her red hair flaming like a sunset, backlit by the spots. Her face was like a beacon, a fucking lighthouse guiding me home.

And I couldn't reach out and touch her.

So I played every song for her.

I expected her to smile. I expected her to nod her head in time with the music. Maybe a little shoulder shake or a slight sway.

What I didn't expect her to do was
dance.

Maddie moved like she was possessed, throwing her hands into the air like she wanted to catch every note I was playing. She undulated, shimmying and twirling around with such wild abandon that I forgot what I was doing and stopped playing and stared at her instead. Balzac sensed that I was losing my train of thought and leaped forward to deliver a blistering bass solo that had everyone clapping. Everyone except Maddie, who stared straight at me. The song ended, and I said the only thing I could think.

"Meet me in the back."

The long concrete hallway that ran behind the green room was still and quiet, hidden behind a heavy fire door. People would be looking for me, but not here. I only hoped that she would have the sense to find me. If I waited too long, I might realize what the fuck I was about to do.

A soft, shuddering breath echoed off the stone, and I had to smile to myself. Clever fucking girl. Maddie had to be a pro at ducking prying eyes. She probably frustrated the hell out of the paparazzi.

"Rane?" she called softly into the dark.

"Here," I replied.

She slipped out of the shadows and moved to me.

The hallway was definitely dark, but not so dark that I couldn't see the fire in her eyes. The ice queen, she was on the verge of melting, and she was staring at me with those eyes, begging me to put her over the edge. I knew her now. I knew she needed to be able to blame it on me. Reckless, wild abandonment frightened the shit out of her, but she also craved it as purely as I craved seeing her wild and reckless.

The only way she'd let it happen was if I made it happen.

Fuck it.
It's my mantra, right? Fuck it...

and
fuck her
.

I traced my hand up her neck, cupping my fingers into her jaw to tilt her face up to mine. "Don't run away," I growled. She wasn't going to, but she also needed to be reminded that this mistake was going to be my fault. "Stay with me."

She nodded. I felt the little tremor and her skin heated under my hand.
Goddamn
. I had never met a chick that got me more riled. She was a swift-moving brook that iced over in November, all that motion under the calm surface. I wanted to make her crack...and then shatter.

I brushed my lips over hers, still holding her tightly against me. I felt rather than heard her quiet moan, and it rushed right to my cock. 

Right now, I was one heartbeat away from burying my face between her legs.

She exhaled upward, retaking control. And I let her. I wanted to see what she would do next.

"Are you hard?" she asked.

"Are you wet?" I shot back, faster than I could think.

She cupped her hand around my cock. "Very." The way her lips formed around the word, it was like my cock was already between them.

"Kiss me, Maddie," I snarled. The rougher I sounded, the more I knew she'd give up. She made a noise like a trapped bird, fluttering and fluting, and lifted her lips to mine.

I slammed into her, rough and hot, not nearly as gentle as I should have been, but not nearly as rough as I wanted to be. From the moment I had met this girl, she had me hypnotized, and this twisted tango that we had been dancing had brought us right up to the edge of a cliff. And I liked living on the edge, and I liked jumping over, and fuck it, if I had no parachute then at least it would be a wild ride before I splattered all over the ground.

I ground into her frantically, needing to feel every inch of that perfect freckled skin. She gasped, and I was sure I was crushing all of the breath out of her lungs. I almost moved away, ready to let her take a breath, ready to let her tell me to cool it, back off, leave her alone.

Then she wrapped a long leg around mine and drew me in even closer.

"Yes," she hissed. It was more of a sound than a word, and the sibilant sigh of her breath escaping her lips grew higher and tighter as I kissed down her jaw to find that soft, sweet smelling space where her neck met her shoulder. I couldn't see her skin in the low light, and that thought angered me. I sucked more savagely than I meant to, drawing a high moan of painful delight from her lips. I pulled back and studied her face.

"You like it rough, don't you, Maddie?"

"I… don't know…" She was still trying to fight against the feelings. I sank my teeth into that same sensitive spot. She let out a little whoop, going up on her toes and arching instinctually against me.

"Yes, you do. I know exactly what you need. You need what I need, to feel it tomorrow.  Something to remember tonight by." My fingers delved below her waistband, unfastening the little button on those skintight jeans. "You're gonna be smiling tomorrow. Sore but smiling. And every little ache, every little twinge of pain, every little tender sore spot on that perfect skin is going to remind you of what we did in this dark hallway, Maddie. You want that, don't you?"

My finger had found what I had been looking for. "Oh fuck, you don't even need to answer that. God, feel how wet you are, Maddie. You're completely soaked. Did you get this way watching me play guitar for you?"

I brushed my thumb lightly over her clit, and she buried her face into my shoulder, muffling a tense scream. "Tell me," I ordered her, moving my thumb in tight, controlled circles. "Tell me watching me play made you so wet."

"Rane, shut up."

She sought blindly for my lips, her eyes squeezed tightly against the onslaught of my fingers, but I pulled away. "Uh no, not yet, Princess. I've been thinking about fucking you since the moment I first saw you, and I am
not
rushing this."

"The door, there's people…"

"And I don't give a fuck." I had said those words probably a million times over the course of my life, but never did I mean them more than I did right now as I held Madeline Cole against my body, squeezing her ass cheek with one hand while with the other I slipped past the delicate lips of her pussy and slid home. Her protests died in a ragged gasp, and she slung her arms around my shoulder, wrapping her leg more tightly around me as I plunged one, then two fingers inside of her. She was so tight, so soft, and she fit around my fingers so perfectly that I could only imagine how tight she'd be against the hard thrust of my cock. The thought of it had me groaning right along with her, and suddenly, all the time I wanted to take—to torture her, to tease her, all of that time I promised I would spend marveling over every inch of her perfect skin—that promise was broken the second she started to shudder and shake. Feeling her tighten around my fingers made me lose my own fragile control, and when she inhaled sharply and then threw her head back, exposing the milky white softness of her throat as she came over and over again, I had to sink my teeth into that same spot to hold back myself from coming right along with her.

The second her cries subsided, I was a man possessed. I tore at her shirt, snapping one of the delicate straps, then yanked her jeans down her thighs. "Wait," she said, breathless, and stooped to fish in her purse for a second. "Condom," she hissed, her eyes wide and begging and her breath almost panting with need.

My cock was already in my hand. She caught my eye, never breaking eye contact as she pulled her shirt over her shoulders completely and stepped out of her jeans, naked and glowing in the low light of the hallway.

"Fuck me," I growled.

"Okay," she smiled, dropping to her knees.

Maybe I
am
an asshole, because the second I knew Madeline's lips existed, I was imagining how they'd feel sliding down the length of my cock. I had imagined it so often, but this? This was like nothing my filthy mind could have dreamt up on its own. The reality of feeling Madeline Cole's tongue swirl around me before she slid her lips down, taking the entire length of me in one gulp before pulling backwards with a gasp, that was more erotic than all the groupies, all the porn, all filthy fantasies I had trained up since puberty. This was the real deal, and if she didn't stop right now, I was going to explode.

I tore the foil wrapper open, unrolling it in one practiced motion before yanking Maddie upwards. My lips found hers again, but this time, there was no sweetness in the kiss. This was all urgency and breathless anticipation. Savage, primal, the kind of kiss that turned you inside out. I bent down and grasped her by the ass cheeks. She obliged, leaping into my arms as we kept kissing, trying to devour each other. She wrapped her legs around my waist right at the moment that I sank into her, all the way to the hilt.

We hung there for a moment, suspended in the shock of what we were about to do. I froze, even though every inch of me wanted nothing more than to plunge into her with savage abandon, because even now, even as I was about to lose my mind with needing this girl, I still knew that what we were doing was wrong.

It was Maddie that began to move. She squeezed her thighs together, pulling herself tightly against me. "God," she moaned.

And that was all I needed.

"Jesus fuck." I could barely recognize my own voice. I pressed my lips against her neck, hoping that I could hold myself back from the ecstasy of being inside of her long enough to make this moment last. "Jesus fuck, Maddie." I seemed to have lost any semblance of eloquence. "Maddie, my God." Her whole body shuddered, impossibly strong thighs squeezing tightly against my waist, her perfect breasts smashed against my chest, her body slick with the sweat of exertion in the warm hallway, the smell of her arousal and of her own soft scent swirling around me I was losing myself in this girl and I was certain that I was never going to be the same again. "Oh shit," she screamed, shuddering like she was about to fall. I clenched her close and felt her whole body quiver from the inside out, and then she was gasping, a high, keening cry, and my own orgasm came barreling down on me, white-hot and savage.

A sharp inhale—hers, my own, I couldn't be sure. I wasn't even sure where she ended and I began.
She was panting and wide-eyed and saying...something.

"Yeah," I answered. I was drunk off the undone sight of her. The aftershock of feeling her shatter all around me. I could still taste her on my tongue, smell her skin on mine, and in that moment I would have agreed to fucking anything she asked of me. The moon? I'll bring you the fucking moon, Madeline. Have my guys call your guys and I'll get you the whole night sky.

Wait. What was she saying?

"...can't do this anymore..."