Backstage Pass

Chapter 6

He sighed and pulled out before collecting a pad of hotel stationary and a pen from a round table near the window. He climbed back on top of her. He set the paper on her shoulder, uncapped the pen with his teeth and jotted the first few notes down. He couldn’t hear the music when he wasn’t inside his lovely Myrna, so he slid into her body and concentrated on the sounds in his head while he filled her body with slow, steady strokes.

He was scarcely aware of her soft sighs, as the notes seemed to appear by magic, just like before. It turned out he was writing a series of connected solos. By the time he finished scribbling them down, he’d exhausted himself entirely. The pen tumbled from his fingertips and he looked down at Myrna.

She smiled up at him. “All finished?”

How many women would let him drift off like that in the middle of s*x without busting his balls over it? How many women evoked that response in him in the first place? Only one.

He smiled sleepily. “I think I’m too tired to finish.”

“You’ve been at it for over an hour,” she whispered. “Do you want me to take over and help you out?”

Over an hour? That would explain why he was drenched in sweat and weak with exhaustion. “I’d appreciate it.”

He rolled onto his back. Cold air bathed his crotch. He shivered. She straddled his hips and eased him inside her heavenly warmth. Myrna must have realized he needed to find release quickly. He’d built himself up beyond his usual peak without realizing it. He ached. She rode him fast, increasing his urgency.

Ah, she felt good. Tight. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Slick. Tight. Ah, God. So warm.

He had to come. Had to let it go. Couldn’t stop it. Had to. Had…

He erupted with a hoarse cry, spurting into her with glorious release, wishing he wasn’t wearing a condom. Wanting his seed inside her. Confused about those feelings. She collapsed on top of him and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. He drifted to sleep with her soft cheek pressed to his chest, his achingly full heart throbbing within. At last. He’d found her. His one.

Myrna knocked at the “Staff Only” door behind the stadium. A large man pulled the door ajar, blocking its opening with his broad body.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

She’d had nothing to wear but professional attire, but being called ma’am smacked of elderly lady and set her teeth on edge.

“I’m a guest of Sinners.”

He gave her a “yeah, right” look and consulted a paper attached to his clipboard. “Name?”

“Myrna.” She coughed. “Myrna Suxsed.”

He grinned at her. “You must have a lot of sisters. There are half a dozen girls with that same last name on my list.”

She cleared her throat. “Indeed.”

He stepped aside, handed her a backstage pass with her fake name on it and pointed her down a corridor. People stood outside doors marked with the names of the opening bands. Most of the hall-dwellers were young women who looked as expected. Wearing a black bra as a shirt seemed to be the norm. Myrna pretended to fit in, but she stuck out like a sore thumb. Every person she passed stopped talking in mid-sentence to gawk at her. Perhaps she should have bought some blue jeans. She hadn’t thought wearing a suit would be a big deal. Uh, wrong.

When she spotted the dressing room marked Sinners, she smiled. She’d be safe from the glares of rabid fans once safely inside. Right?

She knocked on the door and someone pulled it open. Expecting to see only the band members, she found the dressing room filled wall-to-wall with people and didn’t recognize anyone. She slipped inside and closed the door. As she made her way across the room, looking for anyone who looked remotely familiar, she got a lot of double takes.

“Myrna!” Eric called. “You made it.”

She cringed as he sprinted across the room and lifted her off the floor, her arms trapped at her sides. His height threw her off guard, six-four maybe, but rail thin. She hadn’t realized how damned tall he was until her feet rose nearly a foot off the ground.

“Put me down.”

Eric spun her around, kissed her loudly on the temple, and set her on her feet.

A young woman wearing black lipstick grabbed Eric’s arm. “Who’s she?”

He smacked the girl on the ass. “None of your business. Go get me a beer.”

And off she went without protest.

“Where’s Brian?” Myrna asked.

“He’s getting all dolled up for the stage. I can look like crap. I sit behind the drum kit. But he’s front and center so he needs to look beautiful. Do you want a beer?”

“No, thanks. And you don’t look like crap.” She smoothed the lock of crimson hair that rested against his neck.

“Does Myrna have a crush on me?” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side.

Someone snapped a picture.

“Hey,” Myrna called after the guy with the camera and squirmed out of Eric’s grasp. “Hey, I didn’t say you could take my picture. Hey!”

A black T-shirt over a hard-muscled chest appeared before her. She paused. Too tall to be Brian. She glanced up and her knees went weak.

“Sed?”

His lips curled into a self-satisfied smile, but she couldn’t see his eyes beneath his dark, mirrored sunglasses.

He fingered the backstage pass she had clipped to her suit lapel. “Hello, Miss Suxsed. Good to see you here.”

“Y-you look… different.” Hot was what she meant, but she didn’t want to turn into one of those blubbering fans prostrating themselves at his feet. He had half a dozen of them in tow as it was.

“I can’t believe you wore a business suit to a metal concert, Professor. I think your balls are bigger than mine.”

“Not possible,” the blonde to his left said and snorted at her own joke.

“Master Sinclair is in the bathroom.” Sed jerked his head in the direction of a door toward the back of the room. “He needs the quiet before a gig, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind seeing his muse for a few moments.”

“Thanks, Sed.”

“Who was that?” the blonde asked Sed.

“None of your business. Go get me a beer.” And off she went without protest. A brunette took the empty place at Sed’s side.

Myrna picked her way across the room. She spotted Jace in the far corner getting his hair fashioned into spikes by a roadie with a huge tub of green hair gel. Trey had two suckers in his mouth and a girl on his knee. The incredibly attractive young man sitting next to him had his hand on Trey’s thigh, but Trey didn’t seem to notice. He waved at Myrna when he saw her. She waved back, stopped in front of the bathroom door, and knocked.

“Occupied,” Brian’s voice came from the other side.

“It’s Myrna. Can I come in?”

The door opened. A hand in a fingerless, leather glove grabbed her forearm and tugged her inside. Brian wrapped her in a tight embrace. She buried her nose in his leather jacket at his shoulder. God, he smelled good. In the three hours since she’d last seen him, she’d actually missed him. Not good. She had to say good-bye to him in a couple of hours.

“I’m glad you made it,” he murmured.

His hard body trembled against her. She leaned back to look at him and she couldn’t help but gape. Heavy black eyeliner surrounded his eyes.

“You’re wearing more makeup than I am.”

“Do I look like a p***y?” Staring into the mirror above the sink, he barred his teeth at his reflection to make himself look mean.

Myrna hugged him from behind. “No. As always, you look sexier than should be allowed by law.”

“Are you going to arrest me?”

Her hand slid down to cup his package through his pants. “No, but I might have to punish you.”

Brian caught her hand. “Don’t get me worked up now,” he said. “I’ve got to be on stage in thirty minutes and I can barely walk as it is.”

She chuckled. Her hips and legs had gotten quite a workout today as well. “I know the feeling. Is that why you’re trembling?”

He shook his head. “Typical preshow jitters. I’ll be fine once I’m on stage.”

He tugged her around his body so that she faced him. She leaned back against the sink and accepted his tender kiss.

“I’m glad you came,” he said. “I had it in my head that I’d never see you again.”

“I wouldn’t miss this show for anything. I might not look it, but I’m your biggest fan.”

“I like this suit.” He fingered the top button of her blouse. “Do you have your garters on underneath?”

“If I decide you’re worthy, you might find out after the show.”

“Now there’s an incentive. I better get warmed up. My fingers are stiff.”

“Will you kiss me first?”

He rested his hands on the sink on either side of her hips and leaned forward to claim her mouth. Like a struck match, she ignited with need. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers intertwined with the hair at the nape of his neck. Normally soft, it was now stiff and sticky with hairspray and gel. She felt she had access to two undeniably sexy men in one. The real Brian she’d spent the day with—a ten out of ten. And this rock star version, Master Sinclair—another ten out of ten. They were the same person, and yet totally different.

Pulling away slowly, he opened his eyes to pin her with a sultry look. “I’ll play something for you on stage.”

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

“You’ll know.”

Leaving Myrna leaning against the sink, Brian opened the bathroom door. Some girl with black and purple hair was instantly in his face. “Master Sinclair! Finally. I’ve been waiting to see you for-like-ever!” She grabbed his arm and hopped up and down. “Oh my God, I loooooove you. Can I have your autograph? Pleeeeeease.”

He scarcely glanced at her as he signed the insert to a Sinners CD that she’d handed him.

The girl looked over his shoulder into the bathroom. “Who’s that?”

“None of your business.” He handed her pen and CD insert back to her. “Go get me a beer.”

And off she went without protest.

Myrna laughed. Brian glanced at her over his shoulder, an eyebrow quirked at her. She shook her head at him, still grinning. How easy would it be to get a superiority complex with these fans racing around to fulfill his every request?

Standing on the floor looking up at the stage with a couple of the roadies and several girls from the dressing room, Myrna waited for Sinners to make their entrance. Her heart thudded with anticipation.

“Who are you, anyway?” one of the dressing room girls asked.

“None of your business. Go get me a beer,” Myrna said.

The girl scowled at her, creasing her heavy blue and black eye makeup. Myrna wondered if she thought that much glitter was really necessary. It detracted from her looks rather than adding to them.

“Uh. That was a joke,” Myrna said. “I’m a friend of Brian’s.”

“Did you babysit him when he was in elementary school or something?”

Ouch.

“No, actually, I’m f*****g him.”

“Heh, I thought so.” The girl grinned. “How’d he hook up with a stuffy chick like you?”

Myrna shrugged. “Who are you here with?”

“Sed or Trey. I was hoping Brian, since Angie split, but he’s a one chick kind of guy.”

“Sed or Trey?”

“Maybe both. Depends on their mood and how tired they are after the show.”

“Not Eric or Jace?”

“Eric will probably watch. He can bang me when Sed’s done if he feels like it. And Jace… He’s way too extreme for me.”

“Jace is?” Cute and quiet little Jace?

Another girl nodded, joining their conversation. “Jace is a lunatic. First, he asked me to hit him with this whip thing to get him all in the mood, and then when we were doing it, I thought he was going to kill me. I mean literally. I almost suffocated.”

“Huh.” Myrna never expected that kind of thing from Jace. “And what are your names?”

“I’m Darlene,” the girl in heavy eye makeup said.

“Joyce,” said the near fatality.

“I’m Myrna. Myrna Suxsed.”

The girls laughed. “We’re related. Sisters, I guess.”

“So you sucked Sed off before you hooked up with Brian?” Joyce asked. “I’m surprised Brian tolerated that.”

“Uh, no.”

“Then how’d you get a backstage pass from Sed?”

Myrna flushed. She supposed since Sed’s fake last name branded her pass, everyone thought she’d sucked his c**k to get backstage. “Let me get this straight. Sed makes young ladies suck him to get backstage?”

“Minimum,” Darlene said.

“That ass!” Myrna sputtered.

“Yes, it’s a very nice ass,” Joyce said. The two girls giggled and hugged each other.

“So you’re okay with being treated like that?” Myrna asked. “Do you let all men treat you that way?”

“Of course not. But this is Sed Lionheart we’re talking about here. The Sed Lionheart. You know? If he stepped in dog s**t, I’d lick it off his boot if he asked me to,” Darlene said.

“Not if I did it first,” Joyce said.

“Un-f*****g-believable,” Myrna murmured under her breath.

The stadium lights went off and a blue light illuminated just the floor of the stage. Four sets of feet moved through the blue glow. The roar of the crowd was deafening. Myrna’s heart thundered. One of those sets of feet belonged to Brian.

The thud of a bass drum vibrated through her body. Jace’s bass groove joined Eric’s beat, throbbing deep in Myrna’s chest. Trey’s rhythm guitar was added, and then Brian’s unmistakable solo intro. The crowd roared. A bright light flashed and the lights came up. Center stage, Sed entered the song with a low growl into the microphone. The girls beside her screamed and thrust their fists in the air.

Myrna couldn’t take her eyes off Brian, not even to blink. She watched him stalk the stage, playing his guitar as if it were an extension of his fingers. It was almost as if he were making love to it. And she wasn’t jealous of the attention he paid to the strings. It excited her in a primitive way she couldn’t describe. Perhaps it was the ten thousand other people he engaged with his wickedly seductive fingers. When they reached the guitar solo in the middle of the song, Brian took center stage and Sed moved to the back next to Jace. The crowd roared, bodies undulating against each other in a sea of flesh and sweat before the stage.

“You’re a f*****g genius, Master Sinclair,” one of the roadies hollered. The dude must see this show almost every night and he was still caught up in it. Myrna just watched, every nerve in her body responsive. She felt… alive.

“f**k yeah! Play it, baby!” Myrna yelled.

Darlene laughed and patted her on the back enthusiastically. “Excellent score, Myrna. Master Sinclair is smoking hot.”

Trey’s dueling solo entered into harmony with Brian’s and he stepped beside him center stage. They strummed each other’s guitars while fingering their own fret boards in synchrony. There was something highly erotic about watching them play together. An unexpected intimacy flowed between the two men. An intimacy she’d like to share. Simultaneously. Heat flooded her face and the swelling folds between her thighs. Oh my. What was she thinking? Brian and Trey. Together. With her? Just the thought sent her into sensory overload. She fanned her face with one hand.

Another roar from the crowd erupted as the guitarists finished and spun away from each other. Trey did this heel stomping thing that was entirely adorable. It was as if his body couldn’t help but respond to the music. He rocked forward on his toes in rhythm with each chord he strummed. Myrna hadn’t realized how irresistibly sexy Trey was until that moment. Hell, Jace and even Eric excited her, and she couldn’t see anything of Eric but his flailing drumsticks behind the drum kit.

Sed entered the song again, singing his heart out at the far end of the stage. Fans surfed the crowd, eventually landing in the space between the low barrier fence and the stage. Security guards pulled them to safety and the fans rushed past where Myrna was standing, screaming excitedly as they raced to rejoin the crowd from the back. Myrna scarcely noticed anything but the five men on stage and one in particular. Brian had moved into the background again. He faced Eric’s drum kit and bobbed his head to the beat as he played. When the song ended, the stage went dark and the crowd roared their approval. Myrna was no exception. These musicians were beyond awesome. And she knew them. This was all so un-f*****g-believable. She cheered with the rest of their fans, hungry for more.

A spotlight lit the stage front and center, showing Sed standing on a platform at its front. “How are you tonight, Chicago?” he yelled and pointed his microphone at the audience.

The crowd roared. He put a hand to his ear and they screamed louder.

Sed spoke into the mic again. “We started working on our new album today. What do you think about that?”

More excited screams. Myrna’s entire body grew hot. She had a little something to do with that. Not much, but she’d been there.

“Master Sinclair will be treating you to a new solo in a little while, but right now we’re going to climb… the gates… of hell.”

The crowd roared when Brian’s intro to “Gates of Hell” poured from the speakers. The rest of the band joined him on the fifth measure. The crowd went insane. Electrified by the energy of ten thousand young adults, Myrna eagerly joined the insanity. Brian crossed the stage in her direction. She doubted he could see her standing in the dark on the floor beside the stage, but he looked right at her and winked. Myrna’s breath caught. He headed across the stage in the other direction, still playing. Sed dropped his mic during the long musical outro and jumped into the crowd. Myrna’s heart thudded with apprehension, hoping he wasn’t hurt. Not a chance. The crowd tossed him back toward the stage until the security guards rescued him from their eager clutches and set him to his feet on the floor. The entire barrier fence buckled as the crowd surged forward in his wake. A roadie darted across the stage, picked up Sed’s mic and tossed it down to him. Brian, Trey, and Jace were having a guitar-playing orgy center stage.

Sed sang the rest of the song on the floor before the barrier fence. He allowed the crowd to touch his shoulder, arm, and free hand as he paced back and forth. When the song ended, he ran toward the side of the stage where Myrna was standing.

“Hey, Myrna,” he said breathlessly as he passed her. “Are you enjoying the show?”

“Y-yeah,” she sputtered stupidly.

“Sed!” Darlene screamed.

But he had already trotted up the steps and returned to the stage.

“This audience f*****g rocks!” Sed yelled to the crowd. They responded with another roar of excitement. “What do you think, Master Sinclair?”

“I don’t know, Sed. I can barely hear them.” The sound of Brian’s voice over the sound system made Myrna’s knees wobbly. That same voice had brought her to screams only hours before and now ten thousand people responded to him with deafening shouts of approval. Brian held up his guitar pick. “Who wants it?”

Arms extended over the barrier, straining for the proffered prize. He tossed the pick into the audience, causing a wave of bodies to sink in pursuit. He removed his guitar and a roadie dashed across the stage with a silver acoustic. Brian exchanged instruments and the roadie returned to the side of the stage with the electric guitar. After Brian had settled the instrument in place, he plucked a new pick from the tape attached to his mike stand. He glanced at it, as if looking for flaws, and then moved toward Myrna. He didn’t look at her this time. Instead, he sat on a platform, facing the audience at an angle. She’d have to settle for looking at his back and imagine the feel of his hair between her fingers.

“Should we slow this down a little?” Sed asked the crowd. The lights lowered except for a soft glow coming from behind the band. Brian sat on a platform on one end of the stage and Trey sat on the other end. They strummed the gentle chords of their most famous ballad on acoustic guitars.

“Let me see your mood lighting,” Sed said.

Lighters flicked on. Cell phones flipped open. The sea of small lights shone brightly in the darkness of the crowd. The music of this song wasn’t as loud as the previous, so Myrna could hear the crowd singing along with Sed. He had a satin smooth voice when he wasn’t screaming. She had forgotten how beautifully he sang. He sat on the front edge of the stage and gave every word a piece of his soul. Myrna could totally see Sed’s allure, but Brian was the one she wanted.

After the first six songs, the rest of the band left the stage for a short break, leaving Brian by himself. He took the mic in the center of the stage. “Sed promised you a taste of my new solo. Don’t laugh if I f**k it up. I wrote it today.” He paused for effect and then started to play. The notes of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star,” with Trey’s signature shred, emitted from the amplified speakers. Brian hit the whammy bar on the last note. If anyone could make “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” rock, it was Master Sinclair. “Awesome, huh?” He grinned. Myrna’s heart melted. “I guess that’s more Trey’s speed.”

The crowd cheered and laughed.

“If you wanna hear this thing for real, you’re gonna have to yell louder than that.”

The crowd yelled so loud that Myrna covered her ears with her hands. When they quieted, she pulled her hands away. She didn’t want to miss a word of what Brian was saying.

“Myr, this is for you.”

Darlene and Joyce shoved her excitedly, but stopped as soon as Brian started his solo. The entire stadium fell silent, stunned by the skill and speed of his fingers. He executed the notes in perfect succession. When he reached the end, Trey appeared at his side.

“Was that f*****g awesome or what?” Trey said into the microphone.

The crowd cheered.

“We’ve got a new riff, too. Brian’s been consumed by his muse.” Trey shoved him in the back, a huge grin on his face. Brian stumbled sideways and laughed. “What do you say, Chicago? Do you want to hear it?” Trey asked.

More cheering. The two guitarists segued into the riff they’d practiced in the dining room that morning. Myrna no longer felt like she was standing in a jam-packed stadium. Brian was making love to her and recording notes on her body with a pen. On stage, Brian had his eyes closed while he played. He leaned heavily against Trey’s back. Myrna felt a connection between herself and the man on stage. She wondered if he was thinking of her while he played for all these people.

Sed stepped back onto the stage. “Are these mother fuckers talented, or what?”

Eric drummed. Jace strummed. The crowd cheered.

“I guess I’ll need to come up with some good lyrics now. I can’t take the pressure!” He gripped both sides of his head in distress. Myrna chuckled.

Sinners moved into the next song. By the time the show ended, every person in the room was drenched in sweat. A fog of condensation hung over the crowd. When the band left the stage, they looked both pumped up and fatigued. Eric, the last to leave the stage and by far the sweatiest person in the room, tossed drumsticks into the crowd like one-way boomerangs.

The crowd chanted, “Sinners, Sinners, Sinners,” for several minutes until the stadium lights came up. Myrna made a beeline to the backstage area. She spotted Brian going through the door behind the stage area that led to the dressing rooms. She flashed her backstage pass at a security guard and dashed after him.

“Brian.”

He paused and turned in her direction. His smile, meant only for her, dazzled. She ran to him and wrapped him in an enthusiastic embrace. Her ears were numb from the loud music, but every other sense was heightened. The scent of his sweat made her tremble.

“You are amazing,” she sputtered.

He popped the earplugs out of his ears. “Don’t get all fan girl on me now.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked her past the dressing room. As they passed, Myrna caught a glimpse of Sed, minus his shirt, surrounded by several girls.

“Where are we going?” Myrna asked.

“Trust me, you don’t want to go anywhere near Sed for a while. He’s in one of his moods. We’re going to the bus. Is that okay?”

She nodded. If he asked her to walk on hot coals, she would have eagerly complied. And why was that? She didn’t understand her own psychology at the moment.

He kissed her temple. “Did you like your solo?”

“How could I not? All I could think about was you making love to me when you wrote it.”

He chuckled. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“You were?”

“What else would I be thinking about?”

“Five thousand girls screaming your name?”

“There were five thousand dudes screaming my name, too. Not exactly a turn on. Besides, I only care about one woman screaming my name.”

Her heart warmed as he squeezed her closer. They exited the building to a crowd milling outside the tour buses. The fans cheered when they recognized Brian, but the security guards kept them at bay until he could get Myrna safely up the steps and on the tour bus.