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The venue is general admission only—and crazy packed. We’re all standing shoulder to shoulder, bodies bumping into each other and stepping on each other’s feet, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve been to a few concerts before, but never anything like this.
The lights dim and the crowd goes wild, erupting in cheers and chants. I watch in total shock as the stage lights up and the music starts. I recognize the song just from the drum opening alone. It’s the first song they ever performed live. “Rockstar.”
The moment I hear his voice, my face lights up with excitement, and I lose myself to the music and the thrill of getting to experience something I’ve wanted to experience for the longest time.
Declan Valentine, the lead singer of Riot, is hands down one of the most attractive men I’ve ever laid my eyes on. He’s tall and built and standing on the stage shirtless, which allows me to see just how muscular he is. I’m so close to the stage that I can see the veins in his forearms and how his muscles flex from his grip on the microphone.
He's pure sex on legs. He’s not the man you bring home to meet your parents. He’s the man you call to finish you off when the guy you brought home to meet your parents was unable to make you come.
When Declan smirks, he reminds me of the devil himself, promising to do something sinful. And I’m ready to sin.
That thought, along with all the tequila shots I consume, gives me the courage to go backstage with Tyler and Bree after the show ends. Tyler somehow got us backstage even though they weren’t selling backstage passes.
Honestly, I think she blew the security guard to get us here, but I’m standing in the presence of the one and only DeclanfuckingValentine, so I don’t care what she did or who she had to blow.
Hell, I’d eat her out just to show my appreciation.
My hands tremble as I trail my fingers up my left arm and pinch it to ensure I’m not dreaming. Luckily for me, this is real life. This is really happening.
Brown eyes stare me down from behind a cloud of smoke as if I’m a piece of meat in front of a starved man. I gulp, my skin feeling like it’s on fire.
Tyler and Bree are on the musty green couch across the room, spread across the lap of two men I recognize as members of the band, Adam and Miles.
My eyes trail from theirs back to the intoxicating brown eyes that belong to Declan, the man who’s currently making my panties wet just by looking at me.
He’s sitting on a torn brown leather couch, his long legs spread wide, eyes on mine, and a burning joint between his plump lips. He remains shirtless, his tattoo-covered chest on full display.
“Are you going to continue standing there giving me those fuck me eyes or are you going to come and get what you want?” he challenges, raising his eyebrow.
Cocky motherfucker.
My legs tremble as I walk toward him. A moment of hesitation washes over me. It’s not like I’m a prude or unfamiliar with sex. I’ve had plenty in college. But never with a man like the one sitting in front of me. I’ve had sex with young, inexperienced boys, and Declan is anything but an amateur. He’s all man, and if I’m not careful, I know that he’d be able to consume me entirely and drown me to the point the only person I see is him.
Finding my inner strength and giving myself a quick pep talk, I walk toward him until I’m standing in front of him, suddenly feeling bare and exposed.
I’m wearing shorts that are swallowed by my thick golden thighs and accentuate my peachy ass. I’ve paired them with a ripped Riot T-shirt that’s tied under my large breasts, exposing my midsection.
I feel I could be dressed as a nun and I’d still feel too exposed.
Declan looks at me with pure heated lust; his gaze sets my skin on fire, a feeling I’ve only ever felt once before.
I watch, frozen in front of him, as he takes a long hit from the joint and passes it to one of the four people sitting on the couch. I’m not sure which one takes it since I can’t take my eyes away from him.
Holding the smoke in his lungs, he grips my waist firmly and pulls me down onto his lap. My legs stretch to accommodate his large build as I straddle him.
Declan thrusts his fingers into the back of my hair, gripping it firmly and pulling me toward him. My lips automatically part and eyes close, my stomach doing flips and full of butterflies.
His lips barely brush against mine as he blows the smoke into my mouth. He exhales, and I inhale.
Just as I exhale the smoke, his lips are on mine, and his tongue is thrusting into my mouth. He tastes like weed and mint, and I decide right here and now that it’s my new favorite flavor.
He pulls away from my mouth long enough to look toward our friends on the couch. “Get the fuck out!” he roars, and thank fuck, they don’t need to be told twice.
They leave us alone, slamming the door on the way out.
His mouth is back on mine, and we lose ourselves in a tangle of limbs, mouths, and heated breaths.
That night, in that dingy backstage room, Declan fucks me, forever claiming a part of me.
