Backstage Pass

“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 pul ed her against his side. Someone snapped a picture.

“Hey,” Myrna cal ed 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 tal 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. “Hel o, 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 bal s 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 smel ed good. In the three hours since she’d last seen him, she’d actual y 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 pu**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 al owed 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 wel . “I know the feeling. Is that why you’re trembling?”

He shook his head. “Typical preshow jitters. I’l 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.”

“Wil 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. Normal y 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 total y different.

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

“What?” she asked breathlessly.

“You’l 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! Final y. 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, stil grinning. How easy would it be to get a superiority complex with these fans racing around to fulfil his every request?

Chapter 8

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 real y 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?”