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Oh, I want to ruin her, all right, but not in the way she’s thinking.
“You’re going to stay backstage,” Jack says.
“I’m not staying backstage. I’ll call an Uber.”
She pulls her phone out of her purse.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Then the four hours I owe you start now. Oops, they started thirty minutes ago.”
I hoist her over my shoulder and carry her to the meeting room where a member of our security team is stationed. I’m sure we had security in pursuit when we left unexpectedly, but this guy’s in place.
Brian intercepts us as we put Aurora in the room. “We’ve been stalling, but they’re running out of their best songs. You’ve got three minutes.”
“You heard the man.” Aurora makes a shooing motion. “You better get on stage.”
God, I fucking love her sassiness. I want to resist just to get her worked up, but I holler over my shoulder to the bodyguard, “Nobody goes in or out except us.”
“Tick tock,” she says, “I’m only your hostage for three hours and twenty-nine more minutes.”
Her dress shifted when I had her over my shoulder. Her tits are spilling out just a little bit more, A slight tug and I’d be able to see those tight little nipples. I physically turn my body toward the exit.
The bodyguard is staring at my chest. I look down. My black leather jacket and t-shirt are covered in glitter. I try to wipe it off, but my hands are covered, too.
She looks like a damn glitter factory exploded. She’s always loved things that sparkle, and that’s what I love about her. She sparkles, even without the messy addition.
I stride out of the room, Jack flanking me with Big D and Travis following. “We’ve got to forget about her until the show is over.”
Jack laughs, “Tell your erection that.”
Four
Aurora
Thegoodnewsisthat my brothers will be occupied for the next couple hours, running out the clock on the four hours I owe them.
I browse the room. The globe lights around the mirror and makeup on the counter indicate it’s a dressing room, but the bulk of their stuff is somewhere else. It’s kind of funny. My brothers have more makeup than me…except for glitter.
A set of Travis’s drumsticks lay haphazardly on a couch next to hand written sheet music. I pick one page up. The words under the musical staff aren’t English. He’s into some weird stuff. He’s the withdrawn, black hair hanging into his eyes, type—but on him, it’s ridiculously sexy.
I’ve tried to keep my distance from my brothers, but the tabloids mentioned something about him tapping into the Viking roots of our family. I toss it aside.
Nobody knows what goes on in his head. He’s probably as misunderstood as me. People wonder why I don’t use their fame to catapult my career, but I don’t share their dreams. I love theater, same as when they were younger, but I love working with kids. I work at the children’s theater and want to run it someday.
Picking up a pair of Travis’s drumsticks, I find they’re heavier than I expected. Then again, they’d break if they weren’t pretty sturdy. I try spinning the stick in my fingers, and it goes clattering to the floor. I try flipping it in the air and catching it, only to hit my head.
Fine, I’ll give him credit for his show-off skills.
I look in the mirror. I’m the epitome of classic beauty: long blond hair, pale blue eyes, hourglass figure. Trailing a finger over my collarbone and down my chest, I wonder how my evening would have ended if my brothers hadn’t intervened.
It should have been perfect. The Christmas Cherry Auction getting moved to the Aubergine Affair sex club made it a given that I would lose my V-card.
Were my brothers the only people who didn’t get it? Or were they being the overprotective brothers they’ve always been? Will I ever shake free from being their little sister?
I lift one of my feet to a stool and start humming the classic stripper tune, slowly unzipping my boot.I’m Sexy and I Know Itby LMFAO comes to mind.
I shift my weight to pull the boot off but lose my balance and almost twist my ankle. Thankfully, I fell against the countertop.
