True Loves (A Collection of Firsts) (6 page)

F
ive Finger Death Punch
rocks out hard on the stage, and the audience is insane. I count at least five mosh pits not far from the front row. Girls sit on guys’ shoulders and flash their bare breasts at the band while the crowd eggs them on. Some must’ve gotten tired of tops altogether and sit there without a shirt while rocking out. Crazy.

Some sort of wild energy in the air has everyone hyped. Even I feel it, and I bob my head to the beat. Now I know what Noel is talking about. This is a major rock event, and everyone is enjoying themselves to the fullest. There’s a spell that sucks you into the moment here.

Backstage is busy as well. There are people everywhere I turn. I recognize a few of the bands from music videos or tour posters I’ve seen, but the rest of the people are faceless strangers. A few giddy female fans mill about and gush over their favorite bands, and I smile every time one of them mentions Black Falcon. Those girls don’t bother me much. They seem harmless. I don’t think they’re backstage to attempt to get in the band members’ pants. They just want to meet the bands.

The hardcore groupies and strippers, on the other hand, have a different agenda. It’s as if they’re on a mission to get laid by the most famous guy that will have them. A few of them even hit on the female rockers. Pathetic, really. What would drive a woman to want to be used for sex so badly? They must have some serious Daddy issues.

A crowd gathers by the steps to the stage area where I am. Cameras flash, and I strain to see if Noel’s back from his band meeting. People cram in tightly, pushing to gain every inch they can toward their target. Riff makes it to the top step while he signs autographs and kisses female admirers. I sigh—still no Noel. I tilt my head, curious as to what it is about Riff that drives the girls wild. I just can’t figure it out.

Sure, he’s really cute, even a blind woman can see that, but that alone wouldn’t make me want to sleep with him. What kind of person is he? I don’t judge, but I’m not going to sleep with a person based off looks alone. I’m no slut.

Security cuts the girls off on the stage. “Sorry, ladies, this area is off limits.”

The girls all whine and beg to follow Riff. My eyes dart to Riff, and he smiles when he catches me staring at him. He walks toward me, his eyes never leaving me once.

“Damn, you’re sexy,” Riff says as his eyes rake slowly over my body. His gaze stops on my breasts. I narrow my eyes at him. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered that I have the look of red death pointed directly at him. He pulls a piece of gold paper from his pocket. “This Golden Ticket grants you access into my pants when our set is over. Hold on to it tight and give it to the security that guards the buses. They’ll let you through. I only give away one or two of those a night. Consider yourself a lucky lady.”

He stuffs the paper into my hands, and I furrow my brows. Is he serious? Does he think that just because he shoves some gold paper in my hand I’ll instantly drop my panties for him? I shake my head and try to hand him back the paper. “No thanks.”

“Not interested?” Riff laughs. “Sweetie, that’s cute, but you don’t have to play hard to get. I know why you’re back here, and I can guarantee there’s no better time to be had than the one you’ll get with me.” He licks his lip and runs his hand down my arm. His skin on mine makes my blood boil. How dare he think he can just touch me like that?

I slap the paper into his chest. “I’m waiting for someone, you asshole. I’m not some random fucking groupie.”

Surprise registers on his face and then a slow grin. “You’re feisty. I like that.” He tilts his head. “What a shame. We could’ve been pretty awesome together. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

I huff as Riff lets the paper fall. It lands by his feet, and he smirks before he turns and walks away. What I wouldn’t give for murder to be legal. I should kill that asshole for the benefit of all womankind.

Noel finds me about ten minutes after my run-in with Riff. At first I think about telling Noel, but I decide against it. Their chemistry has to be on point in front of this many people. I can always tell him about it later. Besides, I’m sure Riff will feel like a jackass when he discovers who I am.

Noel’s white T-shirt strains against his chest and biceps as he wraps his arms around me. “Are you going to watch my set?”

I try to pull his arms away, but Noel grins and squeezes me tighter. I sigh. “Not if you keep manhandling me.”

His laugh rumbles in his chest, and our pelvises smash together. “I think if you keep rubbing against me like that, I’m going to take you back to the bus and fuck you right now.”

I raise an eyebrow and fight the urge to smack his smug face. “You wish. Besides, if you disappoint your fans, they might just fire your conceited ass.”

Noel’s hands cup my face. He leans in for a kiss but stops just inches from my lips when I resist. He licks his lips. “It might just be worth it.”

A laugh escapes me, and I immediately cover my mouth. My eyes widen as I realize I’ve let my tough shell crack a bit. He’s so damn forward and it’s kind of comical.

He growls and pulls me against his warm body. “You know it drives me crazy when you giggle.” He cups my butt and presses the bulge in his pants against me. “See what you did? How am I supposed to go in front of fifty thousand people like this?”

I laugh and pull away. “Not my problem. You’ll just have to hide it behind your guitar.”

An impatient stage manager appears out of nowhere. “Noel, we need you in position.”

Noel takes a heavy breath. “Okay, gotta go. See you after we’re done.”

He smiles and heads toward the stage. Another giggle bubbles out of me when he adjusts his pants and picks up his guitar. Poor Noel. Smug satisfaction, mixed with a little guilt, surges through me. My eyes glue onto Noel’s backside until he’s out of sight. I must admit his butt is really nice. Okay, okay—it’s damn near perfect. No wonder so many women lust after him.

The crowd chants for Black Falcon to take the stage. It’s not surprising considering people really love Noel’s band. They’re one of the most-played bands on the charts. Noel’s dream of millions of people hearing his music has most definitely arrived. Some critics say they could be one of the next greats, throwing them in line with bands like the Beatles, Queen, Aerosmith—bands that changed the face of music. I always knew Noel was great, but I never realized how great until the rest of the world discovered him. It’s as if he walks on water to his fans. The band is his life, and I couldn’t be happier he allowed me back into his world, considering I dumped him after graduation.

I take a couple steps toward the stage. It’s definitely the best spot in the stadium to watch a Black Falcon performance. A woman with bright red hair, whom I recognize from the music video channel, steps out on to the stage. She’s this weekend’s host and hops from stage to stage introducing the bands. The crowd roars as she waves to them, wearing her skin-tight black leather pants and halter top.

She brings the mic to her lips and asks, “Are you fuckers ready for one of the best damn bands at this festival!”

I scream along with the crowd.

“These guys are one of my personal favorites, not to mention they look pretty fucking amazing, too. Right, ladies?” She pauses for crowd reaction. “Give it up for BLACK FALCON!”

Trip takes the stage first and throws up a metal sign. People scream as the black-haired rocker takes his seat and gives the bass drum a kick. Tyke comes out second and picks up his bass guitar. Screams erupt when he thumps out a couple cords. The twin brothers look at each other and smile as though they have a secret, and it drives the fans nuts.

Riff and Noel come onstage together. My eardrums feel as though they’re about to explode from the sheer volume in the stadium. Noel glances my way, and I wave. Riff, still clueless, smirks at me and wiggles his tongue while his back is to Noel.

Dear God, does that asshole think I’m here for him? I roll my eyes at Riff, and he smiles before he puckers his lips. He just doesn’t get it and won’t take no for an answer.

The band kicks up and plays their intro song. I do my best to stare past Riff and watch Noel, but every time Riff sees me, he makes sexual gestures of some kind—once even thrusting his hips while stroking his guitar. The crowd loves it, of course, but I’m about five seconds from losing the bagel I ate on the airplane.

Noel leans into the mic and wraps both hands around it. He licks his lips and closes his eyes. The red stage lights on him cause emotions to stir in me. It’s as if it highlights him as the most sexually pleasing man I know. My knees buckle when he belts out a love song. The audience sings along to every word. I sway to the beat but never take my eyes off of him.

Something flies onstage at Noel’s feet. I look down and realize it’s a thong. Women are actually throwing their disgusting panties at him. Several more join the first one at Noel’s feet.

Riff steps up to his mic. “That’s what I like to see. Horny women! Damn.” He points into the crowd. “You fuckers better not let all that pussy go to waste. Now show me some titties.”

Men throughout the place cheer and chant, “GET NAKED! GET NAKED!”

A couple girls near the front row climb onto guys’ shoulders, rip off their tops, and shake their boobs at Riff and Noel. My fists clench, and I have half a mind to go yank them down and ask just where do they get off shoving their breasts in Noel’s face. Thankfully Noel just shakes his head at Riff and laughs. I relax a little. I remind myself that this is part of Noel’s life. It’s all an act. He won’t be screwing around with those girls later just because they flashed him. I walked in on him with those two sluts back in Houston, but I don’t think he’d do that now that I’m here. Would he?

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 far 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.”