Wicked Bad Boys (88 page)

T
he roar
of the crowd was second only to the blood pounding in my ears as we took the stage. I raced across it, and felt Johnny’s fingertips slide down my arm as I left his side. Back in his dressing room, I had almost caved to going out for a drink together.

Almost.

I could relate. I was just as housebound as Johnny during this gig, and with just over a week until the end of my contract, he wanted to get in as much time together. At the same time, we couldn’t take any chances.

I had not left yet, but already I was missing Johnny. Things had begun to feel so right between us. It was unrealistic to believe we could turn this short-term magic into something long-term. My life was back in Miami. He had a life in LA, and would be way too busy to make time for me once I left.

Enjoy the now.

I repeated the mantra. This was all that really mattered. The future had a tendency of figuring itself out, and I was not ready to turn into a blubbering fool over a week before I actually walked away.

The stage lights went on overhead. There was a spattering of cheers in the crowed. It was show time. For me, that meant pretending I could belt out the high notes while I watched the crowd like a hawk. I took a deep breath and let the backup singers beside me do their thing on the tiny stage.

The audience had an energy like nothing I had experienced so far on this tour. It felt more like my early days in underground cage-fight clubs—raw, dirty and with the potential for anything at all to trigger a scuffle. Looking out at the crowd, it was a rough-looking group for sure. It was spattered with the twenty or so private guards Kevin had brought in. Too bad they stuck out like sore thumbs. Most of the audience wore leather, plaid shirts with cowboy hats, or cutoff t-shirts, while the guards were in their all-black uniform consisting of dress shirts and slacks. Had I been asked for input, I would have done some intel beforehand and may have gone so far as to deck out the guards like their own biker gang. They could intimidate, or at least blend in more.

I glanced over at Johnny as he handled the mic, and something about his posture seemed off. Was he nervous? Or just worked up about our conversation offstage? The song started, and he began to sing. I did my best to mouth along. My eyes were fixed on him. He seemed to be unsure of what to do with the crowd before him. They were all drinking and having a good time. No one paid much attention to him. There were no teen girls throwing themselves at him or people reaching up to hold his hand. Those fans probably knew better than to venture into a place like this. It seemed like without that connection to his fans, he lost some of his performing edge and stuck to wandering the stage like a lost puppy.

The crowd was losing interest as fast as Johnny lost his confidence. The men at the tables in the front row were all much more focused on us backup singers than on Johnny. The rest of the ladies looked just as concerned. One of them gave us the signal to do our five-step dance number we had practiced during the wardrobe fitting earlier. We began to dance as the chorus kicked in, and her plan worked like a dream. The more we shimmied and worked our hips, the more the audience paid attention. It took Johnny awhile to notice what was happening, but when he did, his gaze kept moving from the crowd over to us, and back again.

To his credit, he kept singing and never missed a beat. Toward the end of the song, we removed our mic handset from their stands and crossed the stage. We formed a tight semi-circle behind Johnny and did our dance steps. He rocked his hips along with us, a broad smile on his face as he sang. Halfway into it, he pulled me up front and backed me up against him.

He held my hips, grinding his groin on my ass. His movements made his intent clear. He was claiming me as his in front of the entire crowd of rowdy men who were all drooling over us ladies. I shook my hips and drove him crazy right back, all to the whoops and hollers of the crowd. Our bodies meshed. His performance instantly became erotic. If we hadn’t been surrounded by a few hundred strangers, I would have torn off his clothes right there on that stage. I was so wound up as the song came to an end, I could barely wait for the ladies to retreat to our corner of the stage to cool off. He did well for next two songs, and now the people closer to the stage were into it.

Out near the back and sides of the saloon, the men seemed to be getting rowdy. It was the way some of them gravitated to one section of the back bar, while others were backing away slowly. I noticed a few of our guards zoning in on the hot spot. My instincts kicked in, and I moved in ahead of Johnny just as I saw a man in the corner raise a beer bottle high in the air and crash it into a pillar beside him. Members of the audience reacted with a shared chorus of angry yells.

And then it all started.

A full-fledged, no-holds-barred, card-carrying biker-gang bar-room-brawl.

Shit.

This would have been pretty cool on a day off, but not on a night I was working. No wonder they didn’t bring their women out tonight. The guards Kevin hired were not prepared. They did not catch it fast enough. If they had found a vantage point like I did, they would have seen it erupting long before the man broke the bottle. Now that it was in play, there was no way to control it. There were troublemakers everywhere, with clusters of two, three and up to five men engaged in mostly amateur testosterone-filled combat.

The band kept playing, and Johnny kept singing, but that was short-lived. They called it quits when a bar stool flew across the room and landed on the stage, right beside the base guitarist. My adrenaline kicked in, revving my body up like a machine. Fred, Larry and Jenny rushed out on stage with a few more guards, and just as they got to us, catastrophe struck.

I felt a hand on my calf. I jerked away, looking down into the face of one man in the crowd. He was probably twice my size and looked like he had way more than a few beers before he pawed at me.

“Come on, darling. Don’t be a tease,” he slurred moving his hand further up my leg. “I want to show you a good time.”

“Yeah, come on down here and give us a lap dance, sweetheart,” his friend chimed in.

Ripping his arm away, I backed away from the edge of the stage and out of his reach. His friend slung a leg up to jump onstage. That’s when Johnny broke free from Fred and Larry’s grasp, and jumped off the stage in front of the guy who touched me.

“
J
ohnny
, no!” I heard Amanda’s muffled call from somewhere over my shoulder. Things had dissolved into mad chaos around us. People swarmed closer to the stage, most of them stepping over each other and starting new fights as the main event raged on at the back of the bar. I could hear her, but I could not pay her any mind. I was seeing red. That man in the angry mob who dared to touch Amanda—my woman—set off a fire of pure fury in me. I grabbed the front of his shirt with one hand, and pulled the other arm back to pound one out on his brazen, drunkard face. Someone to my right bumped into me, and someone else’s elbow swung into my left temple.

I reared back and pressed a hand to the aching spot on my head where the blow had just landed. What the hell was I thinking?

In my periphery I saw Amanda, Fred and a bunch of my guards jump down near me. Amanda was shorter than most of the guys in here by at least a head. Her crazy-high heels helped, but not much. I hoped she would not take them off with all the shattered glass from broken beer bottles crunching under my boots.

I had to get her out of here.

Now.

“Amanda!”

I heard a sickening crunch and turned to see Amanda stomping on some guy’s knee. She stepped over the writhing man and grabbed my arm. She pulled me close to her. The guards closed us in and dragged me to the back, only breaking formation when Amanda stopped and pushed another guy out of the way when he stepped into our path. There was no messing with her. She was in the zone.

Amanda told the men she would meet us outside, and broke off from our unit. We passed the room that had been dubbed my dressing room. We rushed through the kitchen. It was calm, and strangely disconnected to the ruckus happening in the bar. We saw an emergency exit and a guard pushed through the door into the cool night air. Only then did I slow down, but they did not let me stop until I was safely in one of the guards’ SUVs. Less than a minute later, Amanda jumped in beside me. We both collapsed back against the seat back, trying to catch our breaths.

“Holy shit,” she panted.

“What the hell happened in there?”

“I have no idea.”

“Where did you go?” I asked.

She held up her arms and showed me my clothes from the dressing room, and her purse and things. “They can get the rest later. You have your phone, right?”

“Yes. Back pocket.”

She set our stuff on the seat beside her and looked me over. “What got into you, Lorne? Why did you jump into a crowd like that?”

“I don’t know. That prick touched you.” I touched my fingers to my temple and felt a thin trail warm, sticky blood. “It was more than worth it, taking one to the head to defend you.”

“Shit! Let me see that.” She switched on the rear overhead car light and turned my head to inspect the wound. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

I nearly laughed. Her concern was endearing, but it was ironic, coming from a woman who had spent the most of her adult years beating the shit out of other women, and getting beat up herself from time to time.

“Amanda, it’s fine. It was just one punch,” I said.

“Sometimes one punch is all it takes,” she said.

I instantly hated myself. Fuck! How could I be so insensitive?

“I’m sorry, Amanda. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She waved me off. I could tell it bothered her. “It’s fine. Really. I don’t take head wounds lightly anymore, you know?”

“Yeah.”

A silence stretched between us.

“Where’s the driver?” she said after a few minutes had passed. “We should go back to the hotel. It’s not safe out here.”

“What about the others?”

“We came over here in about eight vehicles. They can figure it out.”

She wound down her window and told the guard on her side we were leaving. Two of them insisted on staying with us. She agreed and they got into the front seat. The driver started the car and took off. I hoped everyone was okay. Kevin had been sitting at the bar to watch the show. He must have been right in the melee when it broke out.

We got to the hotel soon enough and went up to my suite. Amanda made a beeline to the fridge and came back with an ice pack. She ordered me to sit and applied it to my head. She told me to hold it there and keep the pressure steady, leaving toward the powder room closest to the door. She came back with a first aid kit. I studied her worried face. She nibbled on her lower lip as she cleaned the bruise and applied a small adhesive bandage. All I wanted to do was lean in and kiss her.

“Amanda,” I said softly, to get her attention.

Her eyes flicked down from my forehead to look me in the eye.

“It’s all right, I’m going to be fine.” I took her hands into mine and kissed them.

She leaned into me and laid her head on my shoulder. “Promise me you won’t do something like that again.”

“Something like what?”

“You know what I’m talking about. I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around. I can take care of myself…and that guy was harmless.”

I wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “He’s lucky I didn’t rip him to pieces. No man gets to touch you like that.” I lowered my voice. “Do you know why, Amanda?”

“Nope,” she said, tilting her head up to look at me. “Tell me.”

I kissed her lips tenderly. “You’re mine.”

I
t was
a good thing all Johnny did was kiss me after declaring I was his. I pulled off him the second the suite door swung open. Kevin, Fred, his team, and another five bodyguards walked in.

“How in hell did Johnny end up getting hit?” Kevin shouted across the room. He rushed over and looked at Johnny’s head.

“I’m fine.”

Kevin was seething. He turned to look at Fred. “How could all of you let this happen?”

“Calm down, Kevin.”

Johnny stood up. “I told you already. I’m fine. They didn’t let this happen. I went into the crowd. And no one intentionally punched me. I was hit when some dude braced to punch someone else. It was an accident. What I want to know is what even started all that?”

Johnny walked to the bar and grabbed two bottles of water. He looked up at told everyone to help themselves to whatever was in the fridge, and brought a bottle over to me. He looked a little worse for wear with the bandage. I glanced around at the others. Everyone else appeared to have gotten off unscathed.

Thank goodness.

Fred looked over at Johnny. “I’m not sure what sparked it, but a group of men that like don’t need much. It was a powder keg. From what I saw, it started at the back near the bar and spread out from there, like dominos.”

“It was a fight over a spilled beer,” Kevin said. “I was taking my phone from my pocket and I bumped into the guy near me. His drink spilled, and he got his drawers in a knot. I apologized to the dipshit. I didn’t realize he would lose control and start cussing. Then the guy on the other side of me told him to shut the fuck up. The first guy broke the bottle and started brandishing it at the two of us. Maybe they’re from two different gangs or something. Hell if I know.”

Johnny broke out laughing, and clapped him on the back. “Kevin? You started a fight in Lady’s old band member’s bar? I can’t believe this was all your doing, Pops.”

While they laughed it up, Fred came over to me. “That was good work in there, Amanda.”

“Thanks.”

Kevin checked his watch, and announced, “It’s late. Get some rest everyone.”

A few guards left with Kevin. Fred and his people crossed our suite to their guest rooms with the rest of the private security team assigned to Johnny.

Johnny stood in the kitchen, the side of his face red from where the ice pack had been. “Where were we?”

He did not wait for me to answer. He strode over to me and threw me over his shoulder before heading to the master bedroom.

I
n my eyes
, Johnny was already amazing in bed. Tonight, he pulled out all the stops to drive me to climactic insanity. It started when he lowered me onto the bed and went over to his suitcase. He took out a small, flat wooden box and brought it to the night table. I had not seen it before. It looked like a vintage treasure chest or jewelry box, with tiny lion-shaped embellishments around the latches. He opened it. Inside was lined in red velvet, but I could not see exactly what was down in the box.

“Going kinky on me?” I teased.

He nodded. “Only if you’re up for it.”

“Am I going to need a safe word?”

He laughed. “No. It’s not that kind of party. I won’t hurt you.”

I was intrigued.

He held up a broad, black, satin ribbon from the box. “Ready?”

“Yes. I trust you.”

“Good. Get all of those clothes off that fine body of yours. I want you naked. Now.”

“Okay,” I said, letting out a shirt burst of laughter. “Are you sure I don’t have to call you master?”

“You don’t. This is going to take some time. And I’m already rock hard for you.”

“Got it.” I got up on my knees and turned my back to him. “Unzip me.”

He undid the zipper while I carefully removed the double-sided fashion tape on each side of the dress front.

“I want you to take it off me, Lorne,” I purred. “I love feeling your hands on my body.”

He groaned and slowly peeled the dress off my shoulders and down my hips, along with the lacy panties I wore.

“I have to remember to replace the ones I tore off you,” he whispered.

“Yup. You sure do,” I said with a wink.

“Where do you get them?” he said.

I sat and picked up my legs so he could get it off my feet. “Online. I’ll send you the link.”

“See? If my private mall idea took off, we could cross the hall and get you a few dozen right now.”

I laughed, but his eyes grew dark, lustful. He sat on the side of the bed and reached into the mini-chest. He stripped a handful of ribbon ties from it, placing the first one over my eyes. He tenderly wrapped next two soft, cool ribbons around my wrist. He laced another ribbon through the ones already on my wrist, and lifted my arms, tying them together, and then anchoring them to the center support of the headboard.

With the loss of sight, my breathing sped up in anticipation. Truth be told, I was willing to try just about anything with him. I trusted this man completely in the short time we had gotten to know each other. Johnny had shown me only kindness and tenderness. Tonight at the bar, I got to see that fiercely possessive side of him, and although I did not ever want him trying that stunt again, the protective gesture tugged at my heartstrings.

When he told me I was his a little while earlier…God, he reached into my chest and kick-started my heart. If he had said that other phrase women loved to hear, I would have been in a puddle on the floor. I did not need him to say it. I already felt it.

Johnny smiled as he adjusted the knots so they would not dig into my wrist. “Try to move it,” he said in a low, raspy tone.

I tried tugging my arms up. They could move slightly, but I was not going anywhere. “I can’t get free.”

“Good.” He did not tie my legs, but pulled them apart, and groaned right afterward. “All you have to do is relax and let me please you.”

My other senses were heightened with the blindfold on. The slightly warming sheets tickled my back, and the cool air of the room played on my chest. I spread my legs farther apart, exposing my already hot pussy to the light ripples of chilled breeze. I was getting wet, and could smell my arousal already.

I felt his body weight shift and move from the bed. He returned a minute or so later. I shifted around slightly on the bed. I could feel his eyes were on me.

“Don’t move, Amanda. I’m going to start soon. I just want to look at you for a minute.”

I took a breath and tried to relax, but was on edge. I felt him settle between my legs. He did not touch me with his hands. Something light and soft moved across my body. It felt like a feather tracing down one side. He moved it up to my face. It travelled down my neck, over my collarbone, to the peak of one nipple, across my ribcage, and by the time it swirled around over my lower belly, I was soaking wet and undone. I tilted up my pelvis, desperate for his touch.

“I want you so bad right now, Lorne.”

I pulled at my arms, forgetting they were bound.

“Just wait for me, baby.” His fingers traced along my folds now, and after, his hands pressed down on each leg, splaying me further. His tongue grazed along my inner thighs, moving up one and down the other without any contact on my mound. My legs trembled slightly at his touch. I was so aroused, I could wrap my legs around his hips like a vice and pull him deep inside me.

I gasped when his tongue passed over my clit. He lapped slowly, dipping his tongue between my folds. He was tasting me, teasing me, stretching out my longing, expanding my need until my aching body was wound up so tightly it could burst. My control was gone. I writhed on the bed under his touch, and in the next moment, he buried his head in tight and devoured me. I squealed. I convulsed as a wicked orgasm took hold, sending waves of raw pleasure all the way from the strands of my hair to my toenails.

My senses were overwhelmed, and as my ragged breathing caught up to me, he slid three fingers into my clenched, needy channel and moved up my body.

Kisses. Everywhere.

He pumped his fingers while his lips played on my stomach, up between the peaks of my breasts, to my neck and ear lobes. As his tongue landed on my nipple, his thumb began to press down and stroke against my swollen clit, all while his fingers invaded my pussy. I was engulfed in flames of heavenly sensations, confounded, overcome. I buzzed as my nerves switched between the three points of his steadfast attention, until they culminated in another intense peak. I whimpered as I came, sucking in cool breaths, still panting from my racing pulse.

On instinct, I yanked my arms, meaning to hold on to him. He kissed my check and shifted off me again. Placing a pillow under my hips, his hands rans down my legs to my ankle. He raised them high in the air, and in a moment, I felt his firm flesh at my entrance. I gasped for breath when he buried himself to the root, joining his body to mine, melding with my heated core. He rested my legs on his shoulders and began to thrust into my yielding center. Pulling out. Driving in. Giving. Taking. Becoming one with me.

“God, Lorne,” I cried out, almost drowning out his own sounds as he slammed into me for the final few times before we came together. Our shouts seemed to echo around the room in that surreal, primal pinnacle, and everything around us disappeared.

He lowered my legs and placed his forehead to my shoulder. After a while, he pulled out and stretching out beside me for a minute. One by one, he removed the ribbon ties, and finally the blindfold.

“How was that?” he asked in a breathless whisper.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed into him, sated and content. “Incredible.”

“And what else do you want to tell me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I want to hear you say, Amanda. Tell me.”

“I’m yours.”

He smiled and kissed me again. I could not be any happier.