And it’s as I’m standing there thinking about him that I feel arms lace around my waist and a hard body run the full length of my backside.
He shouldn’t be here.
He should be getting ready to take the stage in front of the twenty thousand or so fans waiting for his band.
My chest races and my stomach flips.
His fresh, clean scent I recognized earlier hits my nose, but it isn’t just the way he smells that helps me recognize him.
It’s the feeling I get around him.
It’s not just that blast from the past thing, though maybe that’s some small part of it. It’s the need and want all mixed in with being around someone familiar.
It’s the thrill of feeling wanted again after going through a devastating break-up.
I haven’t dated at all.
This is new and different and really, really scary...but it’s exciting.
It’s possible he just wants this one night to make up for the past...and maybe that’s okay with me. If he wants more, well, we’ll explore that route when we arrive at it.
Warm lips meet the skin of my neck, and shudders run through me from the spot where his lips move all the way down to my toes. My knees knock together as nerves take hold, and suddenly I’m absolutely desperate to feel those lips against mine.
He may only be in town for tonight.
I may have passed over him when I was sixteen, but I was young and dumb back then. Now I’m a little older...and possibly still dumb. Time will tell, but I’m not missing this chance.
I turn in his arms, his hands never leaving my waist, and our eyes lock. His are dark back here. They’re a little mysterious and definitely full of heat. My eyes flick to his lips, and then he moves like a damn jungle cat as his mouth crushes against mine.
The loud music playing mere feet away from us seems to fade down to mute as my ears buzz with a rush of need. He goes right for it, his lips opening as his tongue brushes mine, his movements urgent as his fingers press into my hips and he holds his body flush against mine. My own hands meander up his chest and land over on his biceps, and he’s solid. Everywhere, I note when his hips shift toward mine.
He holds nothing back as this kiss a decade in the making finally happens, and I give him everything I have, too.
It’s all over far too soon as he slows the kiss before he stops it. He pulls back, his eyes on mine for a beat. His seem to be full of regret—maybe that he had to stop, maybe that this didn’t happen sooner, or maybe something else—and then one side of his mouth tips into a smile.
“I’ll see you after our set,” he says, and then he presses a gentle kiss to my cheek before he turns and walks away.
I stand there staring after him. He doesn’t look back until he turns the corner, and he pauses just for a beat when our eyes meet. He holds up a hand in a casual wave, and I wave back, and then he disappears around the corner.
I go back to my office to compose myself. I grab a quick bite to eat, and I don’t see him again until I head backstage to watch his set.
My timing is off, but, then, everything about tonight feels a little off. I miss their entrance, but I go to his side of the stage just as the first song ends. I’m standing with a group of people. They might be fans, or they might be roadies or groupies or family members. I don’t know, and I don’t really care. I just want to watch Tyler.
I stare at him as he plays the bass guitar. He’s clearly concentrating on his craft, but he’s so good at what he’s doing that he seems like he could play in his sleep. As he starts the rhythm for their second song, he glances up at the crowd. I’m too far away to see what registers in his eyes as he looks out over all the people here to watch him, here to sing along with his songs, here to scream and cheer and maybe even lust over him.
Is he nervous? Is he comfortable? Is he excited or scared or is this a normal, everyday thing that’s just a part of his job?
He turns toward the direction of stage left near where I’m standing as he starts moving around a bit instead of staying in one place, and his eyes lift to gaze out over the crowd on our side of the arena. And that’s when he glances side stage and his eyes meet mine where I’m tucked just out of the audience’s view.
His lips lift into a smile, and my knees feel weak.
God, he’s hot.
He’s not the boy I knew. He’s grown into the kind of man who can get a girl to drop her panties just with his smile. And it’s not just because he’s a rock star, though that certainly doesn’t hurt his case. He has this intrinsic charm about him that I can see even as I watch him do his thing on stage.
He turns back to the audience, but he tosses the occasional glance my way—just enough for me to know he’s thinking about me.
He’s thinking about me when he’s on stage performing in front of a crowd of twenty thousand people.
That fact does something crazy to my normally logical thinking skills. It pushes them out of my head completely.
Tonight will certainly include some activities I never saw coming when I woke up this morning.
And speaking of coming...
Good Lord.
I watch his mouth as he moves closer to the microphone to interject some backup vocals. It makes me think about what else he can do with that talented mouth.
I watch his hands as he plucks at the strings. It makes me think about what else he can do with those sexy hands.
I’m wading through this current of lust that only gets stronger by the second as I watch somebody I used to know.
Somebody I want to know again...but in a whole new way. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but the promise of what might happen tonight is thick around me as I revel in the anticipation. I touch my lips as I remember when his were on mine.
Two hours pass in the blink of an eye as I stare at Tyler Caldwell. I could stare at him as he plays the bass forever, but we don’t have that luxury.
They take a bow and leave the stage, and we’re engulfed in darkness. That means they’ll be going back onto the stage for the encore. I see flashlights on the ground in the back, but the spot where I stand is still swathed in darkness.
Roadies rush by with guitars and more beer and equipment, but the loud screams from the crowd make it impossible to hear much of anything back here as we wait for the band to take the stage and play a couple more songs.
And then, as if out of nowhere, he’s standing in front of me. He presses a kiss to my lips. “Jesus,” he murmurs close to my ear, and despite the screams, he’s close enough to me and they’re far enough away that I can hear him. “It’s been fucking impossible to focus tonight after that kiss.” His lips fall to mine, and the kiss is firm and needy. Nerves rattle around me, and his lips trail toward my ear. “I want more, Dani. I want you.”
This is definitely not seventeen-year-old Tyler. This is all man. He isn’t afraid to tell me what he wants.
His breath is warm and sends shivers down my spine. I’m about to respond when he turns and runs back to the stage. He gets into position just in time as the bright lights flash on a second later and the music starts again. The cheers are nearly deafening even from this distance, and there’s some degree of smug self-satisfaction in the fact that all those women out there are cheering for the man who just told me he can’t focus as he plays for them because he’s thinking about me.