Chapter 16
Roxie
Riot clung to me for a long while, hunched over and pressing his lips against the spot between my shoulder blades.
His breath was hot on my skin as he caught his breath.
For several moments, I savored the feel of him while doing the same.
The waves of pleasure eventually faded from my body like the last notes of a song.
Then he slid out of my drenched pussy, a trickle of his come dripping down the inside of my thigh. We ended up in a heap on his jacket, our breathing now steadier but our hearts still pounding.
He chuckled, and I laughed with him.
“Didn’t expect that when I followed you up here,” I whispered.
Riot’s fingers caressed along my back. “Me neither. But I’m glad you came.”
“Oh, I came all right.”
I giggled, and he busted out laughing at the dumb joke.
His chest rose and fell rapidly under my cheek.
I traced the line of his collarbone with my thumb and felt him shift closer.
Somewhere below, a car horn flared and faded.
A door slammed. Life kept going. Up here, he rested his forehead against my hair and stayed there, breathing slow and deep as if he were trying to inhale every ounce of me.
I pressed my face into his shoulder and let the moment stretch, let it become something I could carry with me when the tour moved on, when the bus doors closed, when the nights started to blur together again.
We stayed there longer than we probably should have.
When we finally sat up and got dressed, the city looked different. Or maybe I did. We’d crossed a line, and there was no going back.
Riot pulled the jacket around my shoulders instead of putting it back on himself. The leather was heavy, smelled like him, felt like a quiet claim without the need to say anything out loud.
He held me in his arms a moment, then kissed me again. Softer, more tender than the one that had started all of this. It felt right. Like it was coming not from his cock, but from deep within his heart.
“Come on,” he said, nodding toward the door. “They’re going to start looking for us.”
I took his hand, gave the skyline one last look, and followed him to the ladder, carrying the rooftop with me like a secret folded into my pocket.
When we reached the ladder, Riot stopped. “Ladies first.”
“I didn’t take you for the chivalrous type.”
“I didn’t take you for the kind of woman who believes stereotypes.”
“Good point.” I looked down at the ladder. “Here’s the thing…”
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights.”
I pressed my lips together.
“For fuck’s sake…” he muttered, running a hand through his jet-black hair. “You must’ve really wanted to see what I was up to.”
I stared down at the hatch. “Yep. Regretting it now.”
“Would it help if I went first?” he asked.
“Doubt it,” I replied. “Then I’ll just stay up here, frozen in place, until morning.”
“Well then. After you.” He gestured with his hand. The same hand that was palming my ass just a few minutes ago.
I tried to think about all the sexy stuff. Maybe it would distract me.
Down the ladder I went, clinging to the metal bars as if my life depended on it. Which it kind of did. I imagined Riot on top of me again, a lusty smile spreading on his face as he slid his hard length into me…
Before I knew it, I had reached the catwalk level. I immediately grabbed the railing and focused on Riot coming down the ladder, rather than at the huge open expanse of arena spread out beneath us.
“Not bad,” he said.
“I was distracting myself,” I answered as we walked down the catwalk to the next ladder. “Help distract me some more. What’s your favorite song?”
“Like, favorite Cherry Midnight song? Or favorite song, period?”
“Both.”
“Hmm. My favorite Cherry Midnight song is Avenue J. Which sucks, because nobody appreciates it as much as I do. It has the fewest Spotify streams on the whole fucking album.”
“I like that song!” I said while starting down the next ladder. “It’s sad and haunting.”
“And as for my favorite song overall…” He paused to begin descending the ladder when I was far enough down to give him room. “Beast of Burden. Rolling Stones.”
One rung after another. Slow and steady. “I… I don’t think I’ve heard that one.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope. I don’t listen to much classic rock.”
Riot made a choking sound. “All right. That fucking sucks.”
“You’re upset that I don’t know your favorite song?”
“I’m upset that I have to kick you off the tour.” He chuckled. “Because if Milo finds out you don’t like the Stones, he’ll kill you.”
I smiled, but couldn’t laugh while I was suspended so high above the ground with only my hands and feet to stop me from plummeting to an early death.
“My hands are shaking. Keep talking to me.”
“What do you want to know?” he asked.
The precariousness of my position made me bolder than I otherwise would have been. “Tell me about your brother.”
The silence that followed was tense.
“You don’t have to tell me what happened to him. Just tell me about him. What was he like? Aside from being the kind of person who liked climbing roofs.”
Rung after rung passed without Riot speaking. I wondered if I’d pushed him too far.
“He loved animals,” Riot finally said. “Even insects. We used to explore the woods behind our house, so Teddy could catalog all the living creatures he found. He once got pissed at me because I stepped on a beetle, even though it was an accident.”
“How could you.” I risked a glance down—I still had at least forty feet to go, but it felt like four hundred. “What else?”
“He’s the one who bought me my first guitar.”
“You already told me that.”
“It’s important.”
“It is,” I agreed. “What else?”
“When he turned twenty-one, he wanted to buy himself a motorcycle. My parents hated the idea, but of course I loved it. I was the one who pushed him to get it. Teddy was always a rule follower—the opposite of me. I told him that riding a motorcycle would make him cool. It would give him an edge that the ladies would love.”
“You’re not wrong. I’m picturing you on a motorcycle right now, and it’s really hot.”
“Teddy looked even cooler. And it was that motorcycle that got him killed.”
Ice slammed into my stomach and threatened to knock me off the ladder.
“Sorry,” he said with a chuckle. “Probably should’ve warned you that was coming. Teddy was always safe. Wore a helmet, never went above the speed limit. The most risk-averse biker in the world. But that doesn’t matter when a drunk driver runs a red light.”
“Riot…”
“Stop. I’m not looking for pity. Just answering your question.” He chuckled again, and it sounded more bitter this time. “He got me into music. And I got him killed.”
My foot suddenly hit solid ground instead of another rung. We had reached the floor. “It sounds like the drunk driver is the one responsible, not you.”
“Car was only going forty-five,” Riot said, letting go of the ladder and dropping the final ten feet, landing on nimble legs. “If Teddy was driving a Honda Civic, a dozen airbags would’ve cushioned him like the padding in my guitar case. But on a bike…”
He grimaced and shrugged as if it didn’t bother him, but the look in his eyes told the truth. “Listen. I told you because you asked, not because I want any sympathy. It’s just a thing that happened to me. All right? I need you to go back to looking at me the way you were before.”
“What way—”
He pulled me into another kiss, this one rough and hungry. I blinked up at him after, and he smiled.
“That way. Right there.”
A stupid little giggle escaped my throat. “Okay. I think I can do that.”
Riot’s palm came up to caress my cheek. I could feel the guitar calluses on his fingertips.
“I don’t like to dwell on the past. Having a drink in Teddy’s honor is the only time I let myself think about it.
Otherwise, all I care about is the present.
What city we’re in, what stage we’re playing. What woman I’m with.”
The intensity in his dark eyes softened.
“And what is it that you want, presently?” I asked.
He smiled, then pulled away.
“A bag of chips and another cold beer. I’m not used to sharing up on the roof.”
“What kind of chips?”
“Pringles. Sour cream and onion.”
“I don’t want to sound melodramatic,” I said, “but I think we might be soulmates. Those are my favorite, too.”
“They’re technically Milo’s chips,” Riot said over his shoulder. “He gets mad when other people steal them.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.”
“You’re the best groupie we’ve ever had.”
I scoffed, then jogged ahead until I was walking alongside him. “I’m not a groupie! Right?”
He grinned over at me. “Nah. You’re way better than a groupie.”
I reached over and gave his ass a squeeze through his jeans. He jumped, then tried to do the same to me, but I was quicker to dart out of the grasp of his fingers.
“Hey,” he said. “It’s not a big deal or anything… but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell the others about this.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“It’s just simpler if they don’t know we’re fucking,” he explained.
“No, I totally get it. I don’t want to screw up the vibe on the bus.”
We reached the back door leading to the loading dock where our tour bus was parked. Before walking through, Riot pulled me into another kiss, his hands strong and clinging.
“But,” he whispered, “I’m looking forward to doing this again.”
“Me too.” I placed my hand on his chest. “But not on a roof, okay?”
“You’re no fun.”
We laughed and walked outside together. The electricity between us remained, but dimmed down to something quieter. Something we could ignore until the next time we found some privacy.
Our dirty little secret.