The first drive of the tour goes off without any hitches. We complete the eighteen hour trip to Seattle in the early morning, and there’s a palpable energy that comes with being on the road again. A feeling I didn’t realize I’d missed until we were here again. I can’t wait to get onstage in a few hours. After practicing in our LA basement for the past couple months, this packed arena of screaming fans is a sweet reward.
I’m also ready for the ladies.Groupies. They get a bad rap, maybe because they’ll do almost anything for a few minutes of time and attention. But I like to focus on the positives. Like from the second I walk into the room, they know everything about me. There’s no breath wasted on introductions, exchanges of useless information such as where I grew up or what I like to do in my free time. All of that has been published in Rolling Stone and a bazillion gossip rag articles. Any of the women who follow us and have done their research will know all they need to know. These are the ones who make it backstage, begging and bribing their way through security. They come prepared and it only leaves more time for what’s most important ... exploring a more basic element: attraction and desire.
Lexi’s steel toed boots laced up over those goddamn fishnet stockings flash before my mind and I have to shake my head. No. She’s off limits. Besides, even though she’s fucking hot, she wants nothing to do with me. I can sense her impulse to flee or kick me in the balls every time we meet. I’m not a masochist but I can’t help but want to find and push her buttons so she’ll lash out. Even I can admit that’s fucked up.
Doesn’t make it any less fun.
“T, have you seen Bedo?” Austin plops down next to me on the green room couch.
“No, not yet.”
He stretches out his long legs, pulls at the black jean material, and then checks his cell. “He should be here, right? He always makes the first show.” He’s a little superstitious, though he’d never admit it, and the fact our manager isn’t here yet is starting to pick at his nerves. His right leg bounces with the tap of his heel.
“Need something to calm you down?” Iz says from the corner. He lights up a joint and takes an extensive hit before holding it out.
“No thanks, Iz. I just want Bedo to show the fuck up.” Austin pops off the couch and paces the length of the room.Fuck. He’s wound tight. Maybe I should go find Jax and ask him to let some girls into the room now. Austin could use a BJ more than a hit of weed.
“He’ll be here, Austin. Bedo’s never let us down,” I say and check my phone for the tenth time. We don’t go on for at least another ninety minutes and the show hasn’t even started yet. I glance across the room to where Sean’s completely blocking out this outburst, earbuds in and bass on his lap.
“But what if something happened to him? What if he’s stuck in traffic? Did his plane ever land? Do we even know what flight he took? We can’t have a bad omen on our first headline tour!”
“Hey, man.” I stand and grip his shoulder. “How about you sit down, play some video games, have a beer, and I’ll go check on Bedo’s ETA? You just chill here. Everything’ll be fine.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He nods his head several times and sits back into the couch. Iz passes him a drink and I make my way out of the dressing room as fast as I can. I wasn’t freaking out or worried about Bedo, but after listening to Austin’s tirade there’s a sliver of concern working its way through my mind.
Fuck.I don’t need that shit messing with my head. I need to be thinking happy thoughts. Favorite things. Women. Fishnet stockings. Pussy. Leather. Lace. Steel toed boots.
As if my imagination has the power to conjure all my heart’s desires in the flesh, Lexi Marx steps from behind a doorway and into my direct path. My mouth salivates. My heart kicks up a beat. And of course, my dick tests the restraint of my leather pants.
Her eyes lift to meet mine and that anger flares, as if she can’t stand to see me walking in the same hallway. Maybe I should be pissed, insulted, but no, it fucking excites me, and my brain scrambles to think of ways to mess with her.
“Looking fly, Miss Marx. Good enough to eat.” I lick my lips.
Her eyes widen and she stops to place her hands on her hips. “Excuse me?”
God, could she get any hotter? “Just thinking I could use a snack.”
“I hope you starve.”
“Oh, that burns a little. It’s okay. I don’t scare easily.”
“More like you don’t take a fucking hint.”
“Ouch. Someone’s pissy. You nervous, first show and all?”
She pauses and her nostrils flare, but then her lips pull up into a smile that’s so scarce it’s frightening.Shit. I’ve pushed her too far. I consider covering my balls before she retaliates. “This is not my first show, Trent. I’ve been playing music longer than you’ve been fighting hard-ons. So, yeah, I’m ready for tonight, and any indication I’m not has more to do with my present company than anything else.”
“Great to hear,” I say and her brittle front drops for just a second. I’m a bastard for not just walking away. “Kick ass on that stage. And when you’re ready to celebrate after the show, you know where to find me.”
Her shock comes in more of a sputtering expletive than actual words, and I let a wide smile spread across my face. It only pisses her off more.
“I don’t need to get fucked by you or anyone else. Asshole.”
Laughter tumbles from my mouth and I take two steps closer so she has to lift her chin to hold my gaze. Those eyes, full of feisty energy, combined with her lush red painted lips kick up every desire within. My voice drops to a whisper and I cock one eyebrow. “Maybe you’re upset you’re not getting Mr. T tonight?”
“Ugh!” She rolls her eyes and steps back. “I can say with absolute certainty that I never want Mr. T treatment.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never met a woman who didn’t enjoy it. In fact, I’m sure they’re lining up now for the chance.”
