Night with Sole Regret

TEMPT ME VII

“Sorry,” Adam said. “Are you okay?” He kissed her collarbone gently.

“I think so. You’re on my leg.”

Adam shifted so she could free her leg and then struggled to rise from the floorboard. Still laboring for breath, Madison tugged him closer and buried her face against his neck. “Wait,” she said, holding him tightly, “don’t move yet. I need this part.”

He relaxed and let her hold him. He’d never admit to her how much he needed this part too.

A cacophony of loud slaps came from outside the car, followed by the excited yells of what had to be fans.

His alone time with Madison had come to an end. For now. But later? Later he had a blow-your-mind agenda in store for her.

Adam kissed Madison’s flushed cheeks and helped her find her panties. She struggled into them hurriedly and located her boots under the rear-facing seat.

“Rock star hazard,” he joked as the crowd outside became even louder.

As hands and faces pressed against the windows from outside, Madison shrank against the corner of the seat. Adam rearranged his clothes and fastened his pants. “I’ll go talk to them for a few minutes. You stay here and hide.”

She lowered her gaze to her hands, which were clutched together in her lap. He touched her smooth cheek with the backs of his knuckles. “We’ll continue this later,” he promised. “I’ll f**k you so hard in the ass you won’t be able to walk. Would you like that?”

She bit her lip and nodded.

He moved to the seat closest to the passenger-side window and rolled it down a c***k. “Hey,” he said to the crowd surrounding the car. The limo was outside the arena now, so the crowd had guessed someone famous was inside the car. “Are you here to see Sole Regret?”

“Oh my God, it’s Adam Taylor,” someone yelled.

The small crowd became huge. Safely locked inside the car, Adam shook hands and signed autographs through the open window. He was glad that no one noticed Madison hiding in the shadows across from him. He tried not to draw attention to her, but her troubled expression as she stared at her hands baffled him. He had to force himself not to ask what was wrong. She wouldn’t want everyone surrounding the car to know that she was with him. He had to protect her reputation. Any woman caught with him was automatically branded a slut, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if she got hurt because he’d been born an asshole.

Inside the stadium, Madison stood among the stage equipment and watched Adam work with the sound technician. There was too much feedback in the amps, so it was taking much longer than expected for them to get the equipment ready for the show. A heavy black curtain blocked the fans’ view of the stage, but they were already filtering into the arena for the opening acts. They must have recognized that Adam was the hidden guitarist, however, because every time he played a string of notes, they erupted in spontaneous cheers. Madison sometimes forgot he was famous. Not necessarily when they had s*x in a limo—who did that besides famous people, horny newlyweds and the occasional prom couple—or when said limo was mobbed by fans and twenty-five security guards had to be called out to control the crowd, but these reminders made her feel even more conflicted about the status of her relationship with Adam.

In the limo, he’d made sure she’d stayed hidden from the crowd, obviously not wanting them to know she was with him. When they’d dashed from the limo to the back door of the arena, he’d made her cover her head with some security guard’s jacket. Madison’s pride had taken a beating because he hadn’t publicly claimed that they were together, but she couldn’t really blame him. He could have any woman he wanted—certainly more glamorous, sexier and richer women than Madison ever aspired to be. Why would he ever give that up for her? She knew he liked her. Knew they were compatible sexually and that they enjoyed each other’s company. But she also knew the minute she started making demands on his time and required him to be true to her, he'd be gone. Maybe if she’d been a supermodel or a famous actress, he’d consider admitting they were involved. But she was just ordinary Madison Fairbanks, with ordinary aspirations and ordinary looks and an ordinary life. She’d never be enough for him.

Even so, how much longer could she remain in a relationship where she was the only monogamous partner? Maybe she'd feel better if she found another man to dally with in Adam's absence. She rejected the idea as soon as it occurred to her. She had no interest in other men. No other man made her burn and ache and long and . . . love. She’d have to be completely over him before she’d spread her legs for anyone but her unattainable rock god.

“Are you waiting for Adam?” Owen, the band's bassist, asked. She hadn't realized he was standing beside her.

Her gaze automatically dropped to his crotch, as if he'd have his pierced c**k hanging out for her to gape at. She really wished she didn't know about that bit of hidden jewelry.

“Um . . . ” She huffed, exasperated by her crude behavior, and lifted her eyes to his. They were a pretty blue, which went well with his handsome face, and lightly gelled brown hair. “Yeah. He didn't figure it would take this long.” Otherwise he probably would’ve hidden her in a storage room with a bag over her head or made her wait for him at the hotel by herself.

“Some roadie knocked over a bunch of amps when they were unloading the truck this afternoon. They can't figure out which one was damaged. They sound fine individually, but when they're all connected to the soundboard, it picks up feedback.”

“Oh.”

Owen chuckled. “Like you care.”

“It's interesting,” she said. “I don't know much about music.”

“Just how to keep a guitarist captivated.” Owen nudged her in the ribs with his elbow.

She felt her face flame. “Not really.”

“He likes you, you know. I've known him for almost ten years. He's never been interested in the same woman for more than a few weeks. How long have you two been seeing each other?”

“A year.” She shook her head, because that made it sound as if he was serious about her. “But we don't see each other often.”

“He never misses the chance to see you when he can. He’s busy, right?”

“He does call when he's in town.” And late at night when he wants to talk dirty.

“Yep, he likes you. But I have to warn you.”

“Warn me?”

Owen nodded. “Don't pressure him.”

“So it’s not a good idea to force him to pledge his ever-lasting love and commit to me alone?” She was half-joking and half wanted to know the answer.

“No,” he said, drawing out the syllable for an indecent length of time. “He’d break it off with you if you even suggest it. It’s how he rolls.”

“I was afraid of that. I hate that he has so many other women.”

“So don't think about him with them.”

Madison’s heart twisted. She bit her lip to stop its trembling. Owen had basically confirmed her suspicions: Adam slept around on her. She'd known he did, but she'd been doing a pretty good job of pretending he was hers alone. Something hot streaked from the corner of her eye. She dashed the annoying tear away and concentrated on breathing regularly. She didn't want to burst into racking sobs in front of Owen. That would prove that she didn't have what it took to be a rock star's girlfriend. Because frankly, she didn’t.

“Oh s**t, don’t look so sad, sweetie,” he said, patting her back. “Just remember those chicks don't mean anything to him.”

“So why does he bother sleeping with them?” she said much louder than she'd intended.

Owen shrugged and scratched his head. “Convenience?”

And that's all she was to Adam too. His convenience stationed in Dallas, Texas. “Excuse me,” she said. “I need to use the restroom.” So I don't bawl my eyes out in public. She couldn’t do this anymore. It didn’t matter how much she loved him if he didn’t love her in return. A one-sided love affair would never be enough for her. Not even with Adam Taylor.

“Sure,” Owen said, his attention already diverting to someone else.

Madison was allowed to navigate the backstage area without interference. Both security and the crew recognized her. A few even offered her a friendly nod in greeting, which was baffling. Didn’t they realize she wasn’t famous enough to be here?

She found a restroom and locked herself in an empty stall. She didn't let herself crumble, only allowed a few tears to fall. She didn't want anyone to know she'd even considered crying. Maybe if she'd been interested in Adam because he was legendary, this would be easier, but she didn't love him because he was a rock star. She loved him despite it. Before she'd been introduced to the band and interacted with the scene that surrounded his professional life, she'd thought of music as Adam's job. But it was more than that. Music was his life. And she didn't fit in that life.

It was different when they were alone together. During those moments, she felt connected to him, a part of him, and felt he was a part of her, but here, surrounded by the crew and the band and the fans and the press and the hundreds of other people who were necessary to help run Adam's career, she knew their relationship was an illusion. There was no way for them to be together in a normal capacity. She didn't even know if he remembered what normal was like.