Page 86 of Spotlight Hearts

Instead, I keep it together. Barely.

By the time we hit the encore, I’m drenched. Sweat drips down the sides of my face. My platinum hair is damp and sticking to my forehead. My shirt clings to my chest and stomach, soaked through from an hour and a half of pure performance. The leather pants feel too tight, too hot, every move reminding me how worked up I still am.

The final note rings out.

The lights drop.

The roar of the crowd is deafening.

We bow, wave, and finally walk off stage.

The second we hit the wings, the adrenaline is still surging through me, mixing with the pure want that’s been building all night. My skin feels too tight. My cock is throbbing behind my zipper.

Kai is right beside me, breathing hard, sweat glistening on his pale skin, black hair messy and perfect at the same time. His shirt is clinging to him too, outlining every line of his chest and the vine tattoo that wraps up toward his throat.

He looks wrecked.

He looks fucking edible.

I catch his eye as we head toward the green room. The heat in his gaze tells me he’s just as worked up as I am.

The show is over.

The crowd got their version of us.

Now it’s time for the real one.

I lean in close as we walk, voice low enough that only he can hear.

“As soon as we’re alone,” I murmur against his ear, “Your ass is mine.”

Kai’s breath catches.

Good.

Because after tonight’s performance, I’m done playing nice. I want him. And I want him now.

Then he leans in, lips brushing my ear, voice rough and low. “Maybe your ass is mine.”

The words hit me like a small flame to gasoline.

I grab his wrist and pull him faster down the hallway toward the green room, blood roaring in my ears. The second the door shuts behind us, I spin him around and shove him against the nearest wall, mouth crashing into his.

He kisses me back just as hard, hands already tugging at my damp shirt. But we don’t get far before someone clears their throat behind us.

I tear my mouth from his, my eyes finding Tasha, her cheeks are pink, and she averts her gaze. “Sorry…I just, I don’t want to see more than I should.”

I let out a rough laugh, still breathing hard, my forehead pressed to Kai’s for a second longer before I pull back.

“Timing, Tasha,” I mutter, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My voice is wrecked. “Perfect as always.”

Kai’s face is flushed dark red. He looks mortified and turned on at the same time, which is unfairly hot. He straightens his shirt quickly, trying to look composed while his chest is still heaving.

Tasha keeps her eyes on the floor, clearly uncomfortable but trying to stay professional.

“Well,” she says, voice a little too bright. “The crowd loved the new energy. But we have press in twenty minutes, then the after-party thing the label set up. Try to…keep it together until we’re back at the hotel.”

She finally risks a glance at us, then immediately looks away again.