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“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked as she just stood there, taking slow, long breaths. “Are you going to be sick?”
“Not really. I just feel sick. Nerves.”
“Nerves?” He let go of her hair, turning her to face him.
“I’m going to be singing in front of people,” she cried.
“Baby, you sang in front of people last night. You used to sing in front of an audience all the time.”
“As part of a band, not on my own! And last night, I was drunk. I just . . . I get nervous, all right? I know it’s silly, but I can’t help it.”
“Shh,” he soothed. “Nothing about you is silly.” Drawing her against him, he rubbed her back.
That helped her more than anything.
And it was then that another memory returned. She stiffened.
“What is it? You feel sick again?”
“Nicole is back.”
“Ahh.”
To her surprise, he drew her up into his arms and carried her back to the bedroom. He sat on the bed with her straddling his legs. Then he drew her face back so he could look down at her.
“Yeah, Nicole is back.”
“And, um, how do you feel about that?”
“I feel very little, actually.”
Surprised, she caught his gaze. “Really?”
“Really,” he said firmly. “It was a surprise. I wasn’t expecting to see her. But the truth is, she’s a stranger now.”
Old insecurities threatened to well. That voice in the back of her head whispered that she wasn’t good enough. But she pushed them back.
“You’re mine, Butch Malone,” she told him firmly.
He grinned at her. “Of course I am. Forever.”
She snuggled into him. “If that’s a threat, it’s not a very good one. Because I’m not scared of forever.”
“Good. Because neither am I.”
Butch drew Lara against him, holding her tightly as she trembled with nerves. It surprised him how nervous she was. She must have sung in front of far bigger crowds than this one before.
“Baby, are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, moving them away from the bar to a quieter corner.
“Yeah. I do. I always get like this before a performance. Sorry.”
Grabbing her chin, he tilted her face back. “What have I said about saying sorry?”
“Sorry, Sir. Oh, crap! It’s like a disease.”
“You will be later. You think about that as you stand up on stage. Think about the spanking I’m going to give you later. And then afterward, I’m going to have you on your knees, sucking my dick.”
Nervousness fled her face as excitement replaced it.
“My girl likes the idea of that, doesn’t she? She likes the thought of sucking on my dick.”
“Yes, Sir. I do.”
“You do a good job tonight, and I’ll even reward you with an orgasm.”
“I’ll try, Sir.”
“I know you can do it. You can do anything. Because you’re fucking amazing, my girl.”
He watched as her shoulders went back and confidence filled her.
“Such a good girl.” He kissed her lightly.
There, that should do it.
She smiled dreamily up at him. Fuck, what had he ever done to deserve her? And how was it he loved her this much when he had only known her a few weeks?
She’d sung here every Saturday night for the last month, yet she was like this every time. Although the first night had probably been the hardest. But it had been a smaller crowd then. Now, word was getting around about the amazing singer at Dirty Delights, and people were coming from all over to see her.
And why wouldn’t they? She was amazing.
“I’m nearly on. Shoot! I have to pee.”
He laughed as she rushed off and then sat at his usual table. Raid and Tanner were already there. Everyone except Flick, who was still on bed rest, had come to watch her at least once. He could tell she was shocked by that. Her family had a lot to answer for the way they’d treated her.
He was slowly teaching her that not everything was her fault. And that she was beautiful and special just the way she was. Soon after she returned, Devon started to introduce her on stage.
She let out a nervous whimper and he grabbed her close, kissing her. Then he turned her to the stage and slapped her ass. She glared back at him, but as she walked onto the stage, there was a sway in her step, so he knew she’d be fine.
Lara knew that she had the crowd in the palm of her hand.
She loved singing. But she especially loved having Butch out there, watching her. For some reason, she seemed to sing better when he was near. It was like she felt each word coming out of her, particularly when she sang a song she’d written herself.
Like the one she’d chosen to end this set with.
She glanced out at the rest of the crowd, seeing Old Al sitting at the bar. He waved at her with a grin. About a week after moving in with Butch, she’d taken him to meet Old Al. They’d learned that he was living in the Crabapple motel because he didn’t have anywhere else to go. He’d lost everything when his wife died of cancer.
