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“Ow, careful!” Iain snapped at the guy. “That’s my dick, not a squeeze toy.”
The guy dropped his hand and stared at me with wide eyes. “Sorry, he scared me.”
“Yeah, Dawson has that effect. On some people,” Iain replied, looking right at me. Then he gave me his favorite finger and turned back to his fuck buddy. “Keep going, hot stuff. I need to come before I take the stage.”
“No!” I barked and stalked toward them. “Inside, now! I’ll find you a dressing room if you need to finish up, but not out here.”
I pointed to the end of the alley and the busy downtown street where people were strolling by. It wasn’t just that random strangers could see what Iain was up to or take his photo (which was a nightmare for PR); anyone could walk right up to them.
Unreal.
Iain tucked his pretty cock back inside those skintight leather pants he favored and shook his head.
“Move it!” I commanded.
Mr. Squeeze jumped to his feet and bolted past me.
At least one person was listening.
Iain sighed and ran a hand through his wavy blond hair. “You had to ruin that for me, didn’t you?”
“This is just the type of situation I’ve warned you about. Do you not care that you’re putting yourself at risk?”
“For what? STDs?” he quipped and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his denim jacket.
“You’re smoking? Since when?”
“If I can’t come before a show, then a cig will do. I don’t smoke regularly. Just when my nerves hit. Is that okay,Daddy? Or do I need your permission for that, too?”
“You’re the one acting like a child, so—” I gave him a finger in return.
It wasn’t my most mature moment.
But it was better than taking Iain over my knee like I wanted.
Then I noticed his foot tapping the ground and the way he bit his lower lip.
“What are you nervous about?”
Iain rolled his big brown eyes. “Believe it or not, even experienced musicians get nervous before heading out on stage.”
That wasn’t it. This was a charity concert, not a stadium tour. And I’d seen him before shows plenty of times. He was never like this.
There was something he wasn’t telling me.
Surprise.
“It’s nothing,” he continued, pulling out a cigarette and sliding it between those cocky lips. “Can I smoke now?”
I nodded, our gazes clashing.
“Make it fast. I want you inside.”
“Really? I didn’t take you for a bottom.”
Instead of reacting, I stared at him silently.
He pulled out a lighter, lit up the cigarette, and took a deep inhale. Then he looked up at me and let out a long plume of smoke. Right in my face.
