Jet (Marked Men, #2)(24)

“Jet, man, we go on in, like, ten minutes. Can you stop acting like a spaz and get out here so we can do this shit?” Von’s voice was irritated and I couldn’t blame him. I was acting erratic, and we did have a huge crowd out there that had paid good money to see us perform.

I pulled her from against the door and let my hands fall away from her. She leaned back and we watched each other warily, without saying a word. I ran my hands over my face, which was a mistake because I smelled like her, and it was doing nothing to tame the more than uncomfortable situation I had going on in my pants. They were already tight; she’d made them unbearable.

“I have to go.”

She sucked her plush bottom lip between her teeth, and all I wanted to do was find the closest flat surface and demand she put that pretty mouth to better use.

“Jet?” I didn’t have the time or the wherewithal to get into any of the consequences of this little dalliance with her, so I just shook my head and reached around her for the doorknob. .

“Look, we both know that’s what a guy like me has to offer, a quick f*ck in a bathroom backstage, and we both know you deserve a night in a king-sized bed with silk sheets. I’m not going to apologize, but I can tell you it won’t happen again. All right?”

I thought she was going to look remorseful or ashamed; I wasn’t prepared for her to be mad. Those whiskey eyes lit with a fire I had never seen in her and before I could react, she slapped me across the face hard enough to make my back teeth rattle and my face flame.

“What the f*ck, Ayd!”

She brushed down her dark cap of hair, and turned to pull the door open herself. I hated that I loved how wrinkled and well-loved she looked, and that I was the one who had gotten her all messy and rumpled.

“In case you forgot, I offered you a night in a king-sized bed with silk sheets, *. You turned me down. You told me I wasn’t the type. If you took a freaking second to stop trying to tell me what I do and don’t deserve, maybe you could see that the location doesn’t matter, but the person does.”

She had stunned me into silence, but she was good and pissed and clearly not done.

“And just so you know, I broke it off with Adam yesterday because every time he tried to touch me, every time he tried to kiss me I had to pretend it was you to even fake getting through it. But you’re right, Jet, it won’t happen again, because you don’t know half of what you think you know about me. Every time I think you’re figuring it out or at least trying to, you just end up making me feel like an idiot.”

She threw the door open in a swirl of red and righteous indignation. The guys in the band were all staring at me with knowing looks, as she swept out of the room like a regal goddess. I saw Von open his mouth, but I just squinted my eyes and pointed a finger in his direction. “Don’t even start.”

I picked up my electric Les Paul and fit the strap over my shoulder. I shook my head to try to get my brains and my libido to settle back down, and shoved a guitar pick between my teeth.

“I wanna start with something a little different. You guys think you can just follow me in?”

We had played together for years, and there hadn’t ever been a time when I had spontaneously changed up a set that they hadn’t been able to just fall in line or pick up the rhythm and follow my lead. Boone narrowed his eyes at me and picked up his bass.

“It’s going to be one of those shows?”

I blew out a breath and tried not to think about how good Ayden felt, how perfect she had tasted and moved against me. Granted, I had had a thing for her for a hell of a long time, but I hadn’t been prepared for the reality to profoundly beat the crap out of the fantasy. She was a girl who wanted things in life I was never going to be able to give her. It shouldn’t make me go sideways every time we were close, when I knew that nothing was ever going to come of it. While I wasn’t opposed to being any pretty girl’s good time, something told me that when she walked away after having her fun, she would be taking with her more of me than I wanted to give.

The sound tech running the board at the venue called us onto the stage, and as soon as we walked out, the crowd erupted. I lifted a hand and saw Von give a little salute. Here, we were kings and what happened elsewhere didn’t matter, couldn’t matter. I loved to play live. Loved to give the crowd a show that made them move and sing. It was my way of getting all the poison that filtered around in my blood out, so that it didn’t kill me. The house lights went down and the red spotlight hit me squarely in the face. I looked around the crowd, refusing to admit I always searched for a certain dark head in the masses. I forced a wicked grin and shoved my hands through my hair, and heard a few ladies offer up loud whistles.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, motherf*ckers!!!” Everyone screamed and Von struck a long chord on the guitar. I grabbed the mic with both hands and squinted into the light. “Unfortunately, for all you love birds out there, you came to see a rock show. We don’t sing songs about love.” There were more cheers and someone screamed “I love you, Jet!” at the top of her lungs. I laughed and felt the intensity ratchet up and up. I cocked a hip to the side and gave my best sneer, feeling all the things that had just happened with Ayden blazing under my skin.

“We don’t normally do cover songs, but tonight, oh tonight, I think we’ll introduce a little metal to one of my ol’ faves.”