Nocturnes (29 page)

Letty and Gavin, the singer for Just Breathe, take the stage and belt out lyrics to a familiar song that’s never met the light of day until now. “Eve’s Nocturne” just evolved into a flashy, hard-core anthem, “Without You,” written by Rax Wrathbone, presumably stolen by Toombs Badcock. Damn his photographic memory.

I am officially tripping balls.

You fixed me

I broke you

Same old story

Nothing new

I’m poison

Body so numb

Heart bled dry

No longer recognize

The stranger I’ve become

Without you

I don’t have a clue

Don’t know what to do

Without you

At the end of the day, when the clouds part

Night’s black talons seize my heart

Without your kiss, my lips are parched

Without your touch, my life is a lie

Tragedy paves the path we march

Your eyes close but it’s me who dies

Torn between what my body craves

And what my heart needs

It’s easier to swallow the sweet poisonous lie

Than to taste the bitter truth of uncertainty

No easy answer except for goodbye

Nothing but gray on the horizon

Without you

I don’t have a clue

Don’t know what to do

Without you

But if a ray of sunshine ever peaks

I’ll be whatever color your soul seeks

We’ll ride into the sunset on an unbroken horse

Laughing at the wind whipping our faces

Screaming freedom till our throats are coarse

I swear one day, Eve, we’re going places

The fans lose their shit. I’m right there with them. The anthem takes on a life of its own as people stomp their feet, slash their devil horns through the air, and bond with the music. Shrill whistles, cheers, and screams are greeted with wall-shaking barrels of audio gold.

Letty delivers raspy, screamed lyrics with an assassin’s deadly aim, accompanied by Gavin’s equally rough, gritty harmonies. Toombs takes the lead from me. His balls-to-the-wall, hard-core melody carries the song with a razor-sharp edge. The power behind each slash across the strings is musical deadly, nipping on the heels of Shades’s bass as he fills in the empty spaces Toombs leaves behind. The walls seem to bulge with each bass thump, like reality is
this close
to losing containment. Chills sabotage my skin, and the hairs on the back of my neck feel as stiff as wire.

But none of the musical magic comes close to the sight of Eve throwing her body around the song I wrote for her—about her. Though the lyrics were originally for Toombs, they quickly became hers.

Humping and grinding on the pole, she channels the band’s rhythms like she’s subatomically connected to them. She swings upward as if the air currents themselves lift her. At the top, she kicks out her legs and helicopters around the metal effortlessly. Landing in a full split, her pussy kissing the stage, she arches her back and eases her arms over her head. A few beats later, she pulls a headstand, her body leaning against the flagpole, but clearly not needing it. She rights herself on six-inch patent boot heels, slams her ass to the side, embarks on another climb to the top, this time using nothing but her hands, as her sleek legs are busy making a 180-degree angle so the world can sink its eyeballs into her barely there thong.

Eve is music for the eyes. Her fluid moves are perfectly in tune with my guitar; her steps hit the perfect cadence. She gives the laws of physics her middle finger, and the fans seem to be eating her up as much as I am.

They can look all they want, but nobody’s touching. This woman is
mine
.

After a few measures, I realize I’m not playing anymore. The crowd deserves my attention. Eve will have it undivided as soon as the show’s over. I switch out guitars again and strap on the electric. Toombs and I do battle, completely improvised, but we couldn’t have played this well with a hundred hours of practice.

He must’ve been the one who orchestrated this whole surprise. Always there for me. Always watching out for me. I’m gonna do my best to live up to my side of our friendship bargain, though somehow I don’t think I’ll ever come close to paying him back for tonight.

The mood of the crowd, the ghosts of the past sparking to life, and a million regrets laid to rest wash over me in a wave of deep, filling joy. The excited looks in my bandmates’ eyes tell me they feel it too. These precious moments onstage will remain with each of us forever.

As the song that started off as a tiny, one-man acoustic monologue winds up as a big band rockfest, my heart swells. Eve is here. With me. There’s a damn good chance she’ll leave with me too.

We end the song with a mighty flourish, cymbals shimmering, guitar licks licking, the crowd going wacko. Eve hangs upside down, hair dangling, arms spread wide, and held firmly in place by only a bent knee.

Fuck it. Toombs, Shades, and Jinx can finish the wind-down without me. I sling off my guitar, rush over, and sweep Eve into my arms. The band and the audience disappear as my woman smiles up at me, the thin line of a long scar carving a smooth trail across her face. I kiss her hard, just in case this is my last chance to show her how I feel.

Through the piercing screams, I break away from her perfect, pouty lips and shout beside her ear, “Say my name.”

She pulls back, smiles, and screams, “Rax!”

I laugh and graze the scar with my knuckles. Funny, but somehow that line makes her more beautiful than ever before. Maybe because it’s so real. “You remembered.”

“Hard to forget a guy like you.” She nods to the raging crowd behind us. “Get back to work. I’ll be waiting for you backstage.”

Letting her go might be the hardest thing I’ve had to do aside from giving up drinking, but I trust her. I bring her balled fist to my lips, kiss the backs of her fingers, and watch her prance off with an aching in my chest. Can’t breathe without her, but I make do as best I can.

Goddamn. That woman. Biting my lip and shaking my head, I return to my spot beside grinning Toombs and bow to the yelping fans.

“Buzz Float! Buzz Float! Buzz Float!” they cry, bouncing in great human waves, hair flying, fists pumping, faces happy.

I’m pretty motherfucking happy too.

“Let’s give it up for Gavin Cassidy from Just Breathe,” Letty yells into her mic.

The roar rises to a deafening level. My ears physically
hurt
. Gavin bows humbly, salutes, and high-fives me as he walks off stage. “Great show, mate,” he says.

I nod my thanks.

“Now that we got that ‘Reunited and It Feels So Good’ shit out of the way, how many of y’all shit-kicking motherfuckers wanna rock so hard that your ears shoot a load of jizz all over your neighbor?” Letty lifts her arms straight up as if welcoming the tidal wave of sound barreling into her. “Can’t hear ya.” She cups a hand behind her ear and props a foot on the nearest monitor, flashing everyone the thong she usually wears under her miniskirt.

The volume cranks to eleven. Letty nods, grabs the mic, and faces the rest of the band. “Let’s give ’em eargasms. One, two, three, four!”

Jinx cracks her drumsticks in time with Letty’s count, and we launch a musical attack on our followers with “Strings.”

I flip a glance to the side stage where Eve stands, water bottle tipped up. She lowers it, brushes a finger over her lips, and mouths, “I love you.”

I pop wood so hard, I bruise my cock when it springs headfirst into the back of my guitar. I lose track of the song, shake my head as my fingers struggle to catch up, and laugh. Alcohol
never
made me feel this good.

I made the right choice giving it up.

“I love you too,” I yell, knowing she can’t hear over the noise.

Goddamn it, I love Eve.

Side B: “Magic Man”

By the time Rax finishes his set, I’ve cooled off from my performance, and I’m eager to face him up close and personal. Groupies flit around backstage. I can’t tell which girls are here for which band, but I know at least some of them want a piece of Rax. Who wouldn’t after that song?

He got me hotter than lava cakes served fresh off the grill at the top of Mount Bangapussy. Holy Habaneros. Though I’d already heard a rough version of the song in my loft a few months ago, this new version brought tears to my eyes. So damn raw. Honest. Bleeding. Like he opened up his chest and flashed his heart to the world. There were a couple of times when I was dancing that I had to remember to breathe, especially when Letty and Gavin threw Rax’s words in my face and demanded I take note.

Add the thrill of performing to the high of seeing Rax again, and I’m a mountain of Jell-O quivers. Being onstage, dancing for thousands instead of the usual twenty or so who flock around my little stage at Nocturnes? A girl like me could get addicted to attention like this.

But the music…that was my fave. I’m still giddy remembering his fingers darting up and down the ladder of his guitar neck, his huge, shocked grin, and how he messed up some notes when he saw me. I couldn’t have asked for a better reception.

And don’t even get me started on those arms of his. I know I haven’t seen Rax in a few months, but damn, he bulked up in a good way. Can’t wait to get a closer look at them. And the rest of his package.

As Letty wraps the last song with an expletive-filled farewell, Rax casts his gaze at me. His leg bounces as he shrugs out of the guitar strap. He waves at the crowd, and bounds my way like a late train making up for lost time. The crash is excruciating. Well, only if you don’t like being tackled into a wall by a six-foot, snake-tattooed, sweaty rock star who just made thousands of women cream their panties with a song you suspect might have been written for you.

His mouth hits me first. His arms snap around my back, clutching my barely clothed chest to his, protecting me from any bruises the wall might try to inflict. I get lost in his silver-fanged lips, losing track of everything outside of us. There’s only Rax and me, and a sea of questions, hopes, and dreams dangling in the air over our heads.

One hand slides under the waistband of my miniskirt, easing downward on a slow crawl. A finger flicks aside the floss splitting my butt cheeks, and a rush of cool air hits my pussy under the miniskirt. He fills his palm with ass and rubs hard. I squeeze my thighs together and halfheartedly try to climb out of the haze his touch puts me in.

“Rax,” I breathe against his mouth, “people are staring.”

He pauses his dizzying exploration of my mouth long enough to grin and say, “Good. I’ll bet they’re jealous.”

He dives right back into my lips while teasing my pussy with subtle swipes and tickles from behind. Beads of liquid sex gather at the door and welcome him home. Cloaked in this primal spell he weaves, I’m swooning, lightheaded, unsteady on my feet. I’ll surely float away if he lets go of me. My lids struggle to open. When they gain enough purchase to spring wide, he’s watching me with such determined intensity, he makes me blush.

Months of abstinence come back to haunt me, and my sex drive makes a motion to strike that bullshit from the record this instant.

It’s hard to capture the air I need to keep up with him. Our exhales mingle. Breathless, I pull away, and his fingers ease free of my slippery cunt. “Let’s find some place where we can talk.”

“No talking.” He bends forward, folds his arms around the backs of my knees, and hefts me over his shoulder. “Just fucking.”

My heart kicks into a racing rhythm that challenges the speed of light to a duel. The speed of light loses. I wriggle and squeal as he hauls me down the corridor like a caveman. He slaps a hand to my ass and pinches. “Be still, woman.”

Goosebumps dot my burning skin, and anticipation plays a dangerous game with my head. I’m so damn ready for him.

We come to a door marked “Private.” He stops and pushes it open. Someone inside looks up from a desk. He closes it and tries the next. Dressing room. Lots of people in there. “Goddamn it, I need to manhandle the fuck outta you, Eve.” He bites my hip through the skirt. More pussy juice pools at the gates. If he doesn’t hurry up, it’ll soon be running down my thighs.

“Then do it.” I struggle to right myself, and he eases my feet to the floor. Raging with the river of desire flooding my banks, I press my back into a divot-like alcove near the end of the hall. The spot features a corkboard that might be used for public notices, but it’s currently empty. Rax fills in the remainder of the space with his big, hot body. As he closes on me, I feel like captured prey, soon to be forced out of my own life and subsumed into his.

No better feeling in the world than being trapped by Rax Wrathbone. Voices rise and fall as a herd of groupies rushes past toward the green room where the band is probably recovering. His back to them, Rax eases closer and runs his fingers up my spine. They don’t seem to notice us.

“I’m gonna fuck you, Eve. Right here in this hallway.” His rugged voice commands my heart, every fucking beat. “I don’t have any condoms. Is that gonna be a problem for you?”

My lower jaw trembles. God, no problem at all. “Have you been…safe?”

“Only person I’ve banged since I split is you. In my dreams. Every fucking night.” He traces the line of my scar with his thumb, and my breath hitches again. My fingers flutter over his hand and clasp it.

“You stayed monogamous? For me?” My voice squeaks over the last word.

“My dick’s been out of commission a while. Hence the need for you to stop fucking talking and start fucking fucking.” He snags my hip, trails lower, and coaxes my thigh around his. The other hand plunges two fingers into my flooded pussy. My head tips backward, and I moan low and long. He sucks the cream from his digits and shoves them back in for a few more jabs. His lashes sweep shut as he brings his fingers to his tongue for another taste. “Christ, you’re even sweeter than I remember.” He unbuttons his fly, lowers the zipper on his jeans, and springs his cock free.