Destroyed (Lost in Oblivion, #3)(14)
“Consenting adults? That’s what you call it? ‘The Becoming’ lured you into the singing booth and what we did couldn’t be labeled with something as mundane as consenting adults. We f*cked and you liked it.”
They pulled up to the club. The neon and box light marquise looked garish in the waning sunshine. This was a place for the slick dark of New York under the cover of night. A lot like them.
That studio had been a moment in the dark and with day came realizations. Namely that they didn’t fit outside of music.
“It was pleasant, yes.”
“I remember you screaming.” He turned to her, his fingers digging into her hair to grip her scalp. “I remember that you couldn’t get enough.”
Her nipples tightened and the ache that curled into her belly awakened like a cherry blossom in April. Achingly beautiful and awe-inspiring, but ultimately, only lasting a short time. That’s what they were.
And she needed to remember that.
She curled her fingers around his wrist. The tension there was like her violin when she tightened the strings too much. They’d break and the sound resonated on a sour note.
She needed to loosen that strain. “And then it was done.”
The tension receded and she almost smiled in relief. There, that wasn’t so bad. Until she saw his face. The almost snarl was gone. In its wake was nothing.
No smug smile, no flirtatious liquid movements.
He drew away and stepped out of the car when the driver came around. He didn’t stay, didn’t help her from the car. Didn’t crowd her at all.
He simply detached.
And her ache came back triple time.
4
Simon passed the small group of people at the door. They yelled his name, some even screeched out that they were Sirens. He had a part to play and he was f*cking good at it, but he just couldn’t. Not now.
Not with that vanilla ice cream-cool voice in his head. And then it was over.
He’d do well to remember that. That it was well and truly over. No part of them had been more than a memory. A hazy bit of lust.
How many times had he had just the same moment with other women? Fleeting lust and once he’d gotten to the naked and sweaty stage, there was no other allure. Shitty but true. The semi-pretend moment between two bodies that fed off pleasure and the rush of endorphins.
Then it was over.
She’d been just like he was with so many other women. The taste of it was as bitter as the dregs of a cheap bottle of whiskey.
One of a thousand reasons why he was a vodka drinker.
Clarity to the bottom of the bottle.
It was never anything more than it looked. Just like him.
He was a face.
A body.
A voice.
Most of the time that was enough. He had his friends and he had fame that had snowballed with every passing month. The scent of honeysuckle made him a little stupid, that was all.
So he’d fill his head with something else. Something that he did understand. He turned back to the doorway and saw her there. Filtered sunlight backlighting her until she was just a mouthwateringly curvy shadow.
A shadowy memory—as she should be.
He stalked toward her. The surprise on her face almost made him change direction. Her fingers curled tighter on her case. He didn’t stop, didn’t even look at her as he breezed by her and out the door.
He planted his smile on his lips and studied the twenty women and one bouncer through amber lenses. “I’m sorry, Sirens. I had to go check in with the boss lady. We have a big party planned tonight.” He rubbed his hands together. “Who wants a special pass?”
The small crowd bleated out a chorus of “me”s and he opened his arms. “Phones. I need to see ‘em!” Smart phones were whipped out and he tipped his shades down. “Think you can take a video?”
A blond at the front of the pack squealed. “I’d make any video with you.”
“Now that is an offer I cannot refuse.” He took her hand and lifted the ropes. The crowd surged forward. “Uh-uh. Wait your turn. Each of you can get a two minute video with me. Post it to our page and the five of you with the most comments will be my guest tonight.”
He could feel the gaze on the back of his neck. It burned like hellfire. “Hello, boss.”
“Simon, we have a schedule to keep,” Lila said.
He hugged the pretty blond fan into his side. “I think we’ll be doing a few videos and then I will do everything on your To Do list. Let the guys know we’ll be doing ‘Kashmir’ as the cover tonight.”
The crowd behind him whooped and hollered. The bouncer crossed his arms and nodded.
Simon grinned at the crowd then down to the fan currently squeezing his ribcage. “Think I can channel a little Robert Plant tonight, sweetheart?”
“Who?”
“Oh, darlin’. We need to educate you on the finer songs of the past that have created the future.” He looked over his shoulder. “Someone find that shit on YouTube.”
The bouncer took out his cell. “I have it on my phone.”
Simon smiled, his lead singer veneer slipping. “That is why you are a cool cat. Turn it up.”
The epic song played in the background as he hauled girl after girl into his side and took the time to listen, to smile, to give them a moment. He remembered what it was like to love a band enough to stand out and wait for a show.