Black Falcon: Complete Series Collection (8 page)

Riff, on the other hand, I’m not so sure about. Several times when I spoke to Noel after a show, he’d told me Riff had some random groupie in his foxhole with him. I could even hear the girls screaming in pleasure. It was disgusting.

Riff glances at Noel, points at one topless girl, and nods. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

I shake my head. Riff is a complete sex fiend. The only reason he’s in a band is probably for the women. Noel’s smooth voice shoots over the crowd. I close my eyes. It’s like a beautiful lullaby. For a hard-rock band, they could sure play a sweet ballad.

I open my eyes, and my gaze locks on Noel’s. He sings about the love of a good woman, and I feel a blush creep up my neck. When the chorus hits, he breaks our stare and faces the audience. Cell phones light up across the sea of people, and they dance like fireflies at dusk. The song ends, and the crowd roars until Trip pounds out a fast beat. Tyke and Riff join in, and the next song zings to life.

Noel’s voice changes to the signature growl he likes to use when the band rocks out. He yanks the mic off the stand and bends at the waist to belt out a note. The crowd hypes up when he runs from one corner of the stage to the next. Girls stretch out their arms, hoping to touch him, and guys reach out for a high five. Everyone wants a piece of him.

The song ends, but the guys play an extra few bars to allow Noel time to thank the crowd before they wrap up their set. Tyke waves to the fans before he heads offstage. Riff throws out guitar picks, and Trip wings his sticks out to the people in the back. Noel wipes his face with a white hand towel that he tosses into the mass of people. About ten fans shove and grab for the towel before one lucky guy yanks it into his grasp. The life of a rock star is unreal.

Big Bertha is quiet when Noel and I climb inside, which is a relief. We had to fight our way through a ton of screaming women on the other side of security. Those guys in the yellow shirts put up with a lot of crap to protect the stars.

Noel’s sweat-drenched shirt clings to his sculpted chest. His fohawk is a flat disaster. “I need to go shower. I’ll only be a few minutes. Wait for me right here?” He brings my right hand up to his lips and kisses my fingertips.

A rush of warmth spreads through me before I pull away. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Noel grins before he rushes off toward the small bathroom on the bus. My stomach rumbles. I’ve forgotten to eat during the midst of this crazy day. I step over to the kitchen area and open a couple of cabinet doors. No food. What do these guys live on? Beer? I bend down to check the bottom shelves.

“I knew you’d be here.”

I hear the door slam shut and stand to face Riff.

“The ladies never turn down the Golden Ticket.” Riff’s arm stretches above his head as he balances his weight against a top cabinet. He’s shirtless, and I can clearly see the tattoos across his arms and chest. Both of his nipples are pierced, along with his bottom lip, and his hair still stands in his trademark Mohawk. A slow grin pulls across his face as I pull at the legs of my shorts, hoping to cover some more skin. His eyes trace the curves of my body. He pulls his arm down and takes a step.

I hold out my hand, palm up. “Stop right there.”

Riff reaches out for my hand, but I snatch it away. “Baby, I told you. No need to play hard to get. I won’t tell anyone that you fucked me.”

My eyes widen. “You’re really full of yourself, you know that?”

He smirks. “Only when it comes to women.”

I roll my eyes. “I hate to break it to you, but not every woman on the planet is willing to sleep with you.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “But I can tell that
you
want me.” He takes another step toward me, and I try to back away.

I bump against the cabinets behind me. I shove my hand into his chest and shake my head. “No, I don’t want you. I’m here with—”

“Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Riff strokes my shoulder. “No more talking.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Noel growls from the hallway, wearing a low-slung towel while water beads speckle his chest.

Riff jumps at the sound of Noel’s voice. He releases me and steps back. His eyes lock on my face. “You’re Lanie?”

I nod and glance at Noel. “I tried to tell you I was with someone when you first tried to shove that ticket thing in my hand.”

Noel’s eyes narrow at Riff. “You gave her one of your fucking Golden Tickets? I’m going to fucking kill you.” Noel lunges at Riff, but he reacts just quickly enough to stay out of Noel’s grasp.

I throw my hands against Noel’s chest. “It’s okay. Let it go. He made a mistake.” I point my glare at Riff. “Right?”

Riff stares Noel down. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want to accidently steal each other’s woman, would we?” Riff’s tone makes me flinch.

The muscles in Noel’s jaw clench. “You stay away from her. Or so help me God, Riff, I will end you.”

I swallow hard. I’ve never seen pure malice until now. Noel’s expression and body language clearly says he wants to rip off Riff’s head and spit down his throat. The tension between them can’t honestly be about me, can it? It feels more personal than just a case of mistaken identity. Riff and Noel stare each other down. There’s obviously some bad history between these two, and I’ve just added fuel to the fire. Something has to give. I can’t let the band struggle because of me. The situation needs to be diffused.

I pull on Noel’s arm. He tilts his head and gazes at me. I grab his hand and tug him toward the bedroom. “Come on. I want to show you something.”

Noel stares at Riff, as if he’s debating on if he should just pummel him and get it over with. Finally, he nods and follows me down the hallway, leaving Riff alone in the front of the bus.

In the bedroom, Noel sits on the edge of the bed while I close the door. He drops his head and combs his hand through his thick, dark hair. The bed gives a little when I sit beside him. His back is smooth and clean, and I run my fingers along it in attempts to comfort him. The smell of soap lingers on his skin. He doesn’t respond to my touch—his gaze points toward the floor.

I stare at the star tattoo on his right shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. He didn’t realize who I am, and I doubt he’ll do it again.”

Noel rubs his palms together. “You don’t know him like I do. Riff doesn’t stop until he gets what he wants, including women. I won’t let him use you like that.”

I want to laugh. Doesn’t he know me at all? “He’s not going to get me. I’m not like the random sluts he’s used to seeing you with.”

Blue eyes meet mine. “No, you’re not.” He searches my face, and his brow pulls in. He opens his mouth then closes it and turns away. “You better get ready. One hell of a party is about to go down.”

––––––––

I
wiggle a bit between Noel and Riff in the back of the SUV on the way to a humongous after-party for all the bands who performed at Rock on the Range. The A&R Music Bar in Columbus hosts the bash for millionaire bad-boy rock stars, roadies, and of course, their groupies. It takes forever to get close to the building. Hoards of people surround the bar, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favorite rock stars, and are blocking traffic halfway down the street.

When the vehicle finally stops near the back entrance, Mike, Noel’s bodyguard from the restaurant, hops out and opens the door for us. Trip and Tyke grin at each other before emerging into the mass of fans. They love the attention. They hug several screaming females and even stop to sign a couple of bare boobs thrust in their direction. Riff looks at me and winks before he jumps out.

I roll my eyes. Of course he would love this. I slide over to follow Riff, and Noel lays his hand on top of mine.

He says, “Stay by me in here. Shit like this gets crazy. Don’t accept drinks from anyone other than me or Mike. There are real assholes who would love to get in your pants.”

I raise my eyebrow. “They can’t be any worse than you.”

His mouth pulls into a tight line. “You have no idea.”

Inside, the club is like something out of a music video. Bodies writhe to the beat of the rock song echoing throughout the room. Strobe lights flash in every direction, and women wearing bikinis dance in cages. One woman next to me reaches through the bars and strokes my arm. Her touch catches me off guard, and I instinctively jerk away. Noel chuckles beside me.

I narrow my eyes at him. “So not funny.”

His smile widens. “Get used to it, babe. When you’re with me, everyone’s going to want a piece of you.”

“Gross.”

He throws his arms around me and leans into my ear. “What’s it like to know you’re with the one guy in this room every woman wants to fuck?”

I shove him away from my ear. “Not every woman.” I storm away from him. Even over the blaring music, I hear his laugh, and I clench my fists tight. I don’t remember him being so stuck on himself. I step up to the bar and order a beer.

“Trouble in paradise?” I glance over to find Riff leaning against the bar.

Great. I’m so not in the mood for another jackass. I roll my eyes and take my beer from the smiling brunette behind the counter. “No trouble...and definitely no paradise. This is just a job.”

“Ah, the charity, right?” Riff’s brown eyes twinkle. “How’s that going?”

I pick at the label on the bottle. “Pretty much non-existent at the moment. Noel keeps putting off hammering out the details about the literacy program. That’s the whole reason I’m here—to get the marketing off the ground.”

Riff nods. “He’s thinking ahead, I’ll give him that.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s stringing you along for as long as he can until he gets what he wants from you. The more information he gives you about the charity, the sooner you can leave and go back to New York. You two have some history, so you’re a challenge to him. That’s a game he hasn’t had to play for quite some time. He tends to always get what he wants.”

I shake my head. “Yeah, well, what he wants from me, he isn’t going to get.”

Riff smiles. “That’s good to know.” He nods toward the dance floor. “Want to dance?”

I turn toward the sea of people, and my eyes fixate on a couple practically molesting each other right in plain view of everyone. They grind their pelvises together, leaving little to the imagination of what a night in their bedroom would be like. How can people do that in public? I shake my head. “Um, no, thanks.”

He runs his fingers along my arm, and I tense. “Come on, Lanie. I won’t bite.”

I shake my head, but before I can answer, I’m dragged away by the other arm. Noel’s eyes are hard when he looks at Riff. The pure hate doesn’t seem to faze Riff, though. He lifts his beer and gives Noel a small nod. Why do I feel as if I’m in the middle of a childish game of tug-of-war?

I yank free of Noel’s grip. “What the hell?”

Noel’s expression darkens. “I told you to stay away from him.”

My arms fold over my chest. I’m ready for a fight. “I’m a big girl. I can talk to whomever I want.”

He turns away and runs his hand through his hair. He opens his mouth as though he wants to say something then immediately closes it. I stare at him, waiting for his smart-ass reply. After a couple seconds, he turns back to me and holds out his hand. “Dance with me.”

I flinch. “What? Are you psycho? There’s medication for that, you know.”

Before I can think, he grabs me against his chest. “Psycho? No. A little crazy? Maybe.” He leans into my ear and says with a slight growl, “Dance with me.”

The words cause my stomach to clench. I know he’s trying to break me down. The minute I give in and let him touch my body, it will want him. And I hate that he knows that. I shove his chest, putting personal space between us again, and take a long drink from my beer. Dancing with him definitely crosses the line. “No.”

His brow furrows. “No?”

Noel obviously doesn’t hear that word very often. “I’m here on business, not to”—I gesture toward the crowd—“let you grind all up on me.”

Before he can say another word, I walk away and take an empty seat at the end of the bar. Noel watches me for a second, as though he’s debating whether to follow me or not, but I refuse to acknowledge his existence. Eventually, he gives up and heads toward the table the twins occupy. As soon as his ass hits the seat, a perky blonde plops down in his lap. He wraps his arm around her waist and takes a long pull from his beer bottle. She whispers in his ear. He nods and gives her that sexy-cocky grin I’m starting to hate.

I tear my eyes away as the girl leans in and kisses his lips. I grip my bottle a little too tightly and narrow my eyes. Then it hits me why I feel so angry, and I can’t believe it. I’m actually a little jealous. I chug the rest of my beer and try to drown out the thought. What Noel and I had is in the past, and I have no right to feel jealous when he’s with someone else.

A man who resembles a younger version of Steven Tyler sits next to me and orders a beer before turning his attention to me. A blush creeps up my neck when I turn to find him watching me intently. His lips turn up into a smile, and I return my eyes to the bottle in front of me.

The man shoves a strand of his long black hair behind his ear. “You need another?” His accent is delicious. Something about a British accent is incredibly sexy.

I nod. “Sure.”

Mr. Accent gestures for another beer, and I study his features. His black hair hangs nearly to his broad shoulders, and his tattooed hands poke out from the long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing. Both of his ears are pierced, along with one eyebrow, and his eyes are deep chocolate. He’s obviously in a band, most of the guys in here are, but I can’t put my finger on which one.

He turns toward me and holds out his hand. “I’m Striker.”

Ah. That’s where I’ve seen him. He’s the front man of Embrace the Darkness.

I slide my hand in his. “Lanie Vance.”

The bartender returns with my drink and winks at the rocker as she sets it down in front of him.

“Here you go, love,” he says and slides the bottle in my direction. “So, what’s a beautiful lady like you doing in here with this lot?”

I blush again and run my fingers through my hair. “I’m working.”