Becca was so involved with crooning to her gal pals that she didn’t notice Linx skirting a bouncer to hop up on the stage.
Suit dude grabbed a spare guitar from beside the drummer and handed it over.
While Becca slaughtered the song, not in a good way, Linx waited.
Waited for the right moment to jump in with her.
And when he did?
Magic.
Chapter 3
Becca
Holy. Holy. Holy shit.
Becca was on stage with Linx. She wassingingwith him. Well, sort of. He knew about half of the lyrics. He did, however, hit all the notes with the band while she told him what she wanted. Really, really wanted. Helpful hint? It involved azig-a-zig hahhh.
She’d totally give him her zig-a-zig ha. Uh huh. He could have all of her zig-a-zigs. Any she ever made. Ever. For all eternity.
Her stomach did the clenching thing that she’d become accustomed to that summer when she saw him regularly take command on stage.
Linx brought a bit of gravelly rock and ripped jeans to the girl-band song and it worked. Oh boy, did it work. He and the band rocked the hell out of that pop song. Being on stage with him was a fantasy come to life. Having him sing to her while looking in her eyes? Well, that made her heart pound in a really fabulous way.
He caught her eye as she bounced around the stage. Caught her eye and held it hostage.
Yes, there was a reason she’d put Linx off-limits and this, right here, was exactly that reason. He had jumped up on the stage and wiggled right under her skin.
Her skin flushed and adrenaline spiked. There was no physical contact, but she felt sated, like she’d just had a mind-blowing night with the man.
If she’d had any expectation that she’d be on stage with a rock god, she would’ve at least worn a skirt and something with a low-cut neckline—not jeggings with a blue turtleneck. She’d definitely need to plan better next time. Although, the pants did make her ass look fantastic.
The song (eventually) ended, and Becca’s friends screamed for an encore. An encore she would not be providing.No, thank you.She’d accepted the terms of her friend Marlee’s dare without fully thinking through the current situation.
Nevertheless, she’d paid up like a good girl who made bad decisions.
“Thank you,” she shouted loud enough to be heard by her friends in the front row. She made a set of rock ‘n roll devil horns with both hands, tossing them over her head for good measure. Then she held the microphone to her mouth and finished with, “And good night.”
Perhaps she should’ve held out a little longer. As she exited the stage, Linx dove into a Dimefront cover. She wished—really, wished—that she could be on stage with him as he performed.
She wanted him bad; he was that good.
This was just like the old days. She left the stage and became a full Ten again as Linx transformed the small bar into a stadium. Then it was nothing like the old days when Linx pinned her with his stare.
Her scalp prickled. Her skin heated.
And he sang toher.
Perhaps, this was actually better than being on the stage with him. Total toss up, really.
God, he could take her behind the bar and do dirty, naughty things to her in the alley all night long when he finished. She wouldn’t even care if someone caught them.
Mesmerized, she didn’t move. Barely took a breath as he owned the stage, his body making musical promises. Promises to her. Promises she didn’t understand. Not at all. Yet, for some reason, she was willing to accept and savor anything he wanted to offer.
Legs braced, mic to his mouth, the sound of the rowdy crowd in the periphery, she stayed fixed in place because this was so, so right.
No smoke machines. No stadium-sized crowds. No mosh pits of other Tens. It may as well just be the two of them in that room.
