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“There’s my girl,” he said, and she would have fallen right on her face if she wasn’t sandwiched up with dancing strangers.
He winked at her and she lifted her hand in a wave.
“Folks we’ve got some special guests,” he said into the microphone, looking out at the screaming people. “The fine people at Haven House are here! Go check out the good work they’ve done. We’re real glad they’re here. We’re real glad all of you are here. It’s been too damn long.”
The band came in hard and the crowd cheered and fist bumped and danced in the aisles. Micah stepped away from the microphone and back toward the wings. The band watched him as he did it. Alex lifted a finger and twirled it in the air and the band kept improvising until Micah was back on stage, singing his soul out into the microphone.
Suddenly there was a giant mountain of a man standing in the security area between the VIP area and the stage. Helen, Jonah and Daphne all turned to look at him. He was the kind of size you could not ignore.
“Ivan?” Helen asked, taking a stab in the dark. The big man with cauliflower ears and a shaved bald head grinned.
“Yes!” he said. “Micah wants me to bring you all backstage,” he said. “Climb under the barricade. Is all right.”
Helen looked back at her parents who were shaking their heads. “You go,” Jonah said. “We’ll stay here.”
“You sure? There’s probably an after—”
“I’ll come get them for the after party,” Ivan offered, and she agreed and she was suddenly being whisked past security and through heavy double doors down cement hallways where Micah’s voice sounded muffled but the drums sounded like they were right in her ears.
She recognized people. Famous people. Or people who looked like they should be famous, and Ivan led her right past them and they watched her go like she was the interesting one.
Oh, she thought with an internal giggle. This really is wild.
And suddenly they were standing among all the roadies in black pants and shirts. Women with headsets and iPads, who looked like they were in charge of a space mission. They walked around a cement half wall and then there she was. Back stage.
Five feet away Band Of Outlaws was bathed in spotlights as they played their guts out, giving everyone in that stadium some much-needed catharsis. Micah pulled the microphone from the stand and walked over to his brother, threw his arm around his shoulders and the two of them, grinning, sang together into the microphone.
She danced and sang and lost herself to the music. She lost herself to Micah. To what he made her feel. And far too soon it was over. The band went to stand at the edge of the stage, bowing. Holding hands and lifting them into the lights and screams of their fans.
And then they turned and ran backstage.
Sean came by, dripping sweat. Miguel ran over to a woman who had, no kidding, an oxygen tank waiting for him. Alex walked by with a quick wink to grab a beer and a towel. And then it was Micah.
Micah with his eyes on fire. His shirt soaked through. His hair sticking to his face in clumps. He’d come to work and he’d done it.
I want to fuck him.
The whole place wanted to fuck him but she was going to. And he was looking at her like he felt the same way. Everyone backstage vanished. And it was his blue eyes and nothing else.
“Five minutes to encore,” one of the women with headphones in charge of shit said. “Five minutes.”
Micah stopped right in front of her, smelling of sweat and sex and rock and roll. And instead of saying anything he just grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him, walking so fast she had to run in her sexy heeled booties.
“Micah!” she cried, laughing as he ignored people wanting to give him bottles of water and slap his hand. He shoved open a small door that was nestled into wall surrounded by coiled cables and ropes. He yanked her in after him and the door shut behind them. It was a tiny bathroom.
“What are we—” she asked, but then he kissed her. No, scratch that. He inhaled her. Mauled her. It was primal and raw and she was with him in a heartbeat. He grabbed at her breasts. Her ass. Shoved her up onto a small sink so he could get between her legs, grinding his cock against her.
Yep. Yes. More. All of that and more.
She had five minutes. Less than five minutes to gorge herself on rock star and she went right for his belt. Yanking leather and damp denim out of the way until she got to his underwear. Also soaked and she fucking loved it. She was bathed in his sweat, her face raw from his beard.
