Four
Ben
“Ten minutes! Ben, no more beer. You need to be somewhat coherent onstage tonight. Thousands of people are here,” Nick scolds me as I down the rest of the bottle, my eyes on him while I give him the classic middle finger. We play home shows quite often. In between out-of-state shows, we like to come back and play for the local fans. Most artists in our league don’t do this; however, my bandmates and I find it grounds us. When you flip the switch of stardom overnight, you always want to be reminded of the things that got you here.
“Three minutes! You boys ready?”
Setting the glass bottle down on the table, I throw on my red blazer, leaving my chest bare since it’s spring. When I start the show, the jacket keeps me warm, but after a few songs, I always lose it. High on adrenaline, and even more high on the crowd, I perform in only leather pants and black shoes. In our sets, I do all kinds of wild shit, and the medication I take for my anxiety makes my body temperature warmer than normal. Combine all of that and I’m a sweaty mess. My lean frame and the V-cut abs disappearing into my pants are always out at my shows. Women love it, and I love women, so it’s a win-win.
We stand in the wings for a moment waiting on the go signal. Once cleared by Nick, we bound onstage.
“Portland! How’s it going tonight!”
The crowd roars to life, and the spotlight shines down on me, center stage. The buzz has me feeling bold, the slight high helping to keep me relaxed. I have the best of both worlds. The seats up on the balcony are filled to the brim with my fans. There is a haze of smoke, and the smell of booze is thick in the air. Scanning the front row, I’m looking for anything I like but also feeding my ego. I almost move to the next row when I dead fucking stop.
Wait.
My eyes land on the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen, and my fucking chest kicks. There is no way she’s real. Blond hair curled all around a perfect pale face. Her eyes so fucking blue I can see them all the way up here even with the spotlight trained on me. The pouty lips on this goddess are painted a glossy red, and they invite me to taste them. But the body. God, the body. Perfect heavy breasts that I want to suck, bite, and taste all night long.
“Shit,” I say into the microphone, suddenly forgetting where I am and what I planned to say next. Her eyes lock on mine, never leaving, even when her friend pulls on her arm and screams excitedly, pointing out the obvious—that I’m fucking stoned off the sight of this woman.
I clear my throat and find my words again. “You guys ready for some good music and a hell of a night?”
The crowd hollers, but I don’t break eye contact with the beauty who stole my fucking breath. A cross hangs on her pale neck, lying between her heavy breasts above her low-cut black tank top. The way the lace plays peekaboo makes me want to see what else is hiding underneath.
Her eyes drop, and it’s cute the way she’s acting like she didn’t come here to get my attention. The innocent act never works. Women come here looking for a rock star like me—and I plan to deliver.
I start singing the first song. The words echo back to me from the crowd singing along; it’s so loud, I can barely hear the backing track and clicks in my earpieces. Still, nothing else matters except for the distraction in the front. My eyes never leave hers for more than a few seconds. I stay focused, sobering up at the same time as I’m getting drunk on those fuck-me eyes. I’m going to be inside her tonight—the most intoxicating woman I’ve ever laid my greedy fucking eyes on.
Three songs in and I already have lyrics in my head for the woman with a face but no name. I dance along with each track, teasing her more and more. I lose my jacket and proudly show her the body she will be writhing under tonight, begging for me to stop all while wanting more. Yes, I’m that fucking sure of myself, and I’m more than sure that I want this woman.
“All right, let’s slow it down for a second.” I take a swig of my water.
“Yeah, let’s give Ben another second to talk about himself,” Eric jokes, and the crowd erupts in laughter. Looking to the blond angel in the crowd, I see her smile at Eric then me. I shoot her a wink, and she drops her head again. Oh fuck. I can’t wait to bite that chin and keep her head up while she watches me make her come.
“I think they like it,” I banter back.
“I bet they do, egomaniac. Check out this guy—isn’t he such a fucking looker? I don’t blame you guys.” Girls holler my name, throwing out I love you, Ben and stroking my ego just a little more.
“Thank you, thank you.” I bow, my abs tightening as I do. Moving side stage, I stand in front of my mystery girl. Her friend screams, but not her, no. She’s almost unfazed by our closeness, until I see her throat bobbing as she swallows deeply. Her eyes rake down my body, stopping for a little longer on my leather-covered cock.
“You like that?” I tease.
The crowd screams, and she blushes. She looks down for the hundredth time tonight, but this time, she does something intriguing. She grabs the dainty silver cross around her neck, closes her eyes, and whispers something to herself. When she stares back up at me, she’s stone-faced, her wide blue orbs hazy. She looks . . . guilty. What the fuck just happened?
“Ben, sing ‘Falling from Grace’!” a loud voice screams from the surrounding crowd, and I finally break our trance, knowing without a doubt that this girl needs to be mine tonight—shit, for more than tonight. I want to know what the hell is going on in her mind. No, I need to know.
* * *
“Nick, I want those girls, the blonds side stage. Go get them.”
I wipe my face and chest down with a towel. There is a hunger in me I haven’t felt before. Women aren’t scarce, and I have no cravings I can’t fulfill, but I felt a kinetic pull to the blond goddess. My tongue is begging for a drop of water in a drought. Maybe I drank too much and mixing in the pills and weed made me delirious.
“You got it.”
“Hurry before she leaves.”
“I call dibs on her friend.” Eric slaps my back.
Poor friend of hers; hopefully she can handle him and will recognize when the red flags turn to flashing lights telling her to run. Eric is into some dark shit. I’ve seen the things he has in his room. I’ve heard him with women in the bunk above me in the back of our bus and on the other side of hotel walls. I like to keep it wild and adventurous under the sheets, but he is next level.
I light a cigarette and head down the hall to the back room where all our shit is. I take long drags, closing my eyes in an attempt to come down from everything. I need to settle my adrenaline, turn on the charm, and focus on the goddess who is about to be mine. Coming to her wild and wired can go one of two ways: she will enjoy it or she will call me on it. I prefer option number one.