Seduction by Song (33 page)

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Authors: Alexis Summers

BOOK: Seduction by Song
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I do, with minimal hesitation. The rush of flying through the air and into his arms exhilarates me once more, and I allow myself to wrap an arm around him as he pulls me in close. The opening chords to this new song that even
I’d
never heard before begin to ring out through the sound system.

Romeo spins me outwards, holding my hand as he takes a few steps back to begin singing the first verses. The song is clearly a ballad, but somehow deeper and even
more
powerful than “Why I Need Your Love.” Romeo’s voice and words wash over me, drawing out all sorts of feelings from my body. Love and lust battle within me for dominance, finally rising together to form the most sensational feeling I’d
ever
experienced before.

I gasp as Romeo pulls me in closer during the guitar solo.

“Erin, this is what you do to me,” he says, speaking into his microphone as he takes my hand to press it to his chest where I can feel the steady beat of his heart. “You make my heart beat.”

With that declaration of love, of want, of
need
, he ducks down and takes my mouth in a heated kiss. The passion of it drowns out the excited screams of the crowd, making it easy to ignore them—to ignore how public all this is—as I wrap my arms around his shoulders to kiss him back. We kiss for so long that I think I faintly hear the guitar solo looping itself, so long that I’m gasping for air by the time we break apart.

Romeo doesn’t relent for even a moment, though, tipping my head up to kiss me again, licking into the hot cavern of my mouth. We had kissed on stage before, sure, but never
this
passionately. Dimly, through my half-lidded eyes, I register Romeo moving, sliding his arms away from me.

When I open my eyes again, stepping back to draw in a deep breath, I gasp at the sight of Romeo ripping his shirt off, flinging it to the floor of the stage like a useless article. Before I can ask him what he thinks he’s doing, he takes my wrists and drags me down with him onto the stage, right onto a slightly raised dais so that we were still in plain sight of the crowd. He pins my wrists to the floor above my head, spreading my legs with his own and rutting his hips up against me.

Even clothed, I can feel the friction of his hard-on against my quickly moistening pussy. I gasp, so loudly that I think his microphone picks it up and carries the sound throughout the whole stadium. He thrusts against me to the rhythm of the music, beginning to sing once more at his cue.

The crowd is going
crazy
, but I barely hear them. My own thoughts drown everything out—was this for real? Was Romeo really going to make love to me right here in front of thousands of people? It was so much more than a simple declaration of love, of devotion—it was an
action
, one that would probably go down in
history
.

I groan as he lifts me up suddenly, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. He continues to thrust against me through our clothes as he sings what sounds like the final verse. It’s so natural falling into these motions, these rhythms with him that I can’t even bring myself to care that so many people are seeing this—that this is probably being caught on
film
.

The song fades, slowly, and Romeo shifts once more. He lowers me to the floor again, this time placing me on all fours as he continues to thrust against me. The music has gone silent now, but the roar of the crowd is still deafening in my ears.

Romeo plants one hand down on the stage to brace himself as he lifts his other to my blouse, slowly unbuttoning it. I feel my cheeks flush a deep red at being so suddenly exposed, but I can’t stop my body from moving back against his—not even when I feel his hand on the snap of my bra.

Just one split second before that, the curtain falls.

 

Even as darkness engulfs the stage, the curtain blocking the crowd from viewing our carnal act, Romeo does not stop. He drops my hands to my hips once more, holding me still as he pushes my panties aside underneath my skirt. I gasp, loudly—but the microphones have been cut and no one but Romeo hears that sound this time.

His fingers teased my clit, almost entering me before retreating. Could it be he was really going to fuck me right here on stage? Perhaps not in front of thousands of people—who were all still screaming despite not being able to see anything—but in front of his band, his crew?

“Not here,” I whisper but he doesn’t stop as he kisses me, his fingers exploring my wet folds.

I groan as I feel him drop his jeans and press the head of his cock against my opening. Yes,
yes
—I wanted nothing more than to be filled. Damn the eyes that I could feel on us—I didn’t care one bit that we were being watched.

Minutes later, we are in the dressing room; too many eyes on us behind the curtain.

Romeo seems to share that sentiment as he murmurs my name before thrusting inside of me, slow and sensual. He continues to roll his hips to the beat of the song that just ended, the music still ringing in both of our ears. I feel my inner muscles quivering around him as he speeds up, thrusting in deeper and harder.

The crowd seems to scream louder and louder.

As the roars of the crowd crescendo behind the curtain, I scream with them as Romeo and I climax within seconds of one another.

 

Chapter Thirty-eight

Although I typically keep away from foul language as much as possible, there was no other way to describe the field day the tabloids had with our—I still blushed thinking about it—performance last night: it was a media shitstorm
, the main rumor being was that we had sex on stage, which was at least partially true

Romeo had wrapped me up and taken me back to the hotel where we could rest for a day. I fell in and out of sleep, dreaming of our act on stage and waking up aroused every time. It was embarrassing, of course, to have done such a thing in front of people—actual
people
(that I
knew
, no less!)—but I couldn’t deny that it was the single most erotic thing I’d ever done in my life.

“I did promise you,” Romeo whispers as he kisses down the line of my neck.

I hum, unable to even feign anger at him for his spontaneous decision to take me on stage. “I did challenge you.”

Romeo nods. “One might even say this was
your
idea.”

I laugh, batting at his arm. As much as we enjoyed our little stunt, we were going to have to deal with the consequences. I was expecting an enraged Santiago to show up anytime now, manifesting out of nowhere like some sort of mystical genie.

He doesn’t appear, though. Not that night, and not the next morning.

What
does
come is a phone call for Romeo—the stadium has booked him for two more nights and
both
nights have
already
sold out.

I gasp, practically squealing with delight as Romeo wraps me up in a tight hug and swings me around the room.

“And
someone
said you were
bad
for my career,” he says in between quick kisses that he lays on my mouth.

I stretch up to kiss him back, holding him to me longer and kissing him deeper. “I hope they’re not expecting a repeat performance.”

“No?” Romeo asks, teasingly.

“I think we might
actually
get arrested if we keep this up,” I say.

And as much as I know we would both love to give a repeat performance, public indecency was no laughing matter. Romeo suggest that he could call it
art
, and I laugh. That was a thin excuse, even for him.

We spend the rest of the day in bed until we absolutely
have
to drag ourselves up to drive back down to the stadium where Romeo would be playing his bonus, totally sold out show. Romeo needed a few hours for rehearsal and sound check, after all, and I had to prove to myself that I could show my face around all those eyes that had seen him make love to me—or I’d
never
work up the courage to go back there.

I’m brushing out the last kinks in my hair while Romeo heads downstairs to get the rental car when I hear sirens. I don’t think twice about it—ambulances and cops pass all the time—until the noise grows increasingly louder until it sounds like it’s
literally
right outside my window. I drop my hairbrush to peer out of the hotel window down into the parking lot.

The sight that greets me is utterly
horrifying
.

Logan, still bandaged from his hospital stay, is spitting out insults and curses at Romeo, who has his hands up in fists, but is stepping back to avoid having to get into another fight with Logan unless it’s completely unavoidable. Two squad cars have pulled up behind him, and police are spilling out with their Tasers pointed at Logan.

A glint of sunlight catches on something metal—in Logan’s hand in a long, sharp switchblade.

Not even bothering to grab my things, I dash out the door and take the stairs down to the ground floor—thankfully, we had only gotten a room on the second floor that night. By the time I reach the parking lot, Romeo has dropped his fists and Logan is being restrained by two buff police officers.

“What the hell is going on here!” I shout, sounding every bit as distressed as I feel.

Romeo wraps his arms around me, hugging me in close. I’m still shuddering from the unexpected sight of Logan here and the glistening blade of metal on the floor, kicked far away from him, but Romeo’s arms around me are just what I need.

“You can’t fucking ask me that!” Logan screams as he strains against the men holding him back. “
You
, bitch!
You
, getting fucked like a whore out in front of thousands of people!”

Romeo lets go of me, smoothing my hair back soothingly. He steps forward until he’s right in Logan’s face, leaning in menacingly.

“If you ever come near Erin again, you worthless piece of shit,” he says, his voice low and completely even, “I will not hesitate to put you down like a dog.”

I shiver. The threat reaches deep down inside of me and for one split second I almost expect to feel afraid of Romeo—but instead, all I feel is safe. He would protect me from anything, he would
do
anything to keep me safe.

The cops pull Logan away, kicking and cursing. I don’t spare him a second glance this time—he had gone too far, threatening Romeo’s life for something that was
my
decision.

Romeo wraps an arm around my shoulders again, hugging me closer to his side. “Do you need some time?”

I shake my head as the rental car I recognize as Dante’s pulls into the parking lot. Both he and Vince jump out, rushing to our sides.

“You okay, Erin?” Dante asks, regarding me first.

They both look at me the same way they look at Romeo when the band is deep in thought together, working up a new song or lyric—they look concerned, for
me
.

I smile at both of them in turn, and finally up at Romeo.

“I think we should be around friends.”

 

Backstage, I pace and fidget nervously as Romeo rehearses. It isn’t that anyone is treating me differently—no, in fact the roadies are treating me with
more
respect if possible. I’m as comfortable around them as I was before Romeo’s night with me on stage, but there’s another worry that I can’t shake from my mind.

In the midst of the previous night’s excitement, I had felt bold enough to make a very important decision regarding the added Atlanta shows. While Romeo was in the shower this morning after receiving the call about the additional concerts, I had called my father and invited him to come—to listen, and to perhaps even meet Romeo afterwards.

My father had agreed, of course, more than happy to finally meet the man I was so enamored with.

However, in the midst of the
morning’s
considerably more dangerous excitement, I had completely forgotten to tell Romeo about my guest visitor.

I knew tickets weren’t going to be a problem. Although the shows were already sold out, I was more than happy to give my father my own seat and watch from backstage for the night. But that didn’t mean
Romeo
wasn’t going to have a problem with this.

As he breaks to grab a drink of water, he catches me loitering by the edge of the stage, watching the first spectators of the night starting to filter into the stadium.

“What’s on your mind,
bonita
?” he asks as he wraps his arms loosely around my waist from behind.

I draw in a deep breath, deciding that it was now or never. “Romeo, I—.”

“Erin!”

I turn, suddenly, to look to my left where my father is briskly walking down the steps of the aisle leading to the stage. With an apologetic look to Romeo, I hop off of the stage to rush over to Dad, trying to get him to slow down—he isn’t a sprightly young athlete, after all.

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