Eight
MORGAN
My words hang in the air between us. Air that has been entirely too charged with the frustrating chemistry between us. If we weren't on a schedule, I probably would have pulled the car over during "Dirty Girl Anthem" and begged him to kiss me.
And is my proposition now the least bit sexual? No. Did I purposely phrase it that way just to mess with him? Of course.
"A proposition?" Maria says from the backseat. "Ooh, color me intrigued."
"A proposition?" Zach echoes.
I can feel him looking at me, feel his gaze as it moves over my face. It makes my body heat and my already alert clit start to pulse. Concerts always get me going, so it's a good thing I got a solo hotel room. There will be lots of playing with my BOP—battery operated partner—once I'm finally alone tonight. And against my will, I will inevitably be picturing Zach.
Just the thought makes me grumpy. "Yes, a proposition. And get your mind out of the gutter"
"And what's your proposition?" His voice is dripping with wariness.
I shoot a glance over at him, my gaze snagging his for an instant. An instant that has me burning up from the inside. I don't know that I've ever wanted someone as much as I want this man who I kinda can't stand. It's maddening.
"Let's work together," I say, looking back at the road. There are no other cars out here in the country, but I'd hate to run off the road and hurt a cow.
He shifts in his seat, his long legs rubbing against the dashboard. I'm not looking at him, but I'm entirely too aware of his every movement in my peripheral vision.
"Work together how?" His skepticism is clear in his tone.
"We're both trying to find information on shit with my family. You help me dig around to find out how my dad really died and what my mom and aunts and grandma aren't telling us. In return, I'll help you dig around to find proof that magic is a hoax and we're all conning our customers." The idea came to me last night while I was lying in bed trying to stop thinking about Zach and fall asleep.
Mostly I was thinking about seeing him play again, and how sexy his chest is, and how I want to lick all the post-performance sweat off him. But when I forced my thoughts in a different direction, this is where I landed.
"You're going to help me find proof you're a fraud?"
"Oh, honey, I like the game you're playing," Maria says.
I tilt my head and turn it toward the backseat. "Me too."
"You go, girl."
Maria can't pull that off and it makes me smile.
"Are you pretending to talk to your ghost again? Is she supposedly here with us? "
When I glance over at Zach, his eyes are narrowed and his expression stops just shy of a sneer.
"Pretending? No. I am talking to Maria." Anger flares in my chest, a different sort of heat. They combine into a bizarre yet oddly arousing mix.
Dammit.
Zach shifts toward the backseat. "Oh, hello, Maria. So nice to meet you even though you're a figment of Morgan's imagination."
"I do not like this gentleman very much," Maria says.
"Join the club," I mutter. Because I don't. How could I like someone who mocks me like this?
I just want to ride his cock like a broomstick.
Not that witches ride brooms. I wish. Flying would be fun.
"Can we get back on topic?" I snap.
"And what topic is that? You helping me prove you're a family of liars? Why would you do that?" He settles back in his seat, again rearranging his legs.
I absolutely do not feel bad for him being squished into my front seat. I don't.
"That's how confident I am that you won't find anything. Because magic. Is. Real ." I'm fuming now, thinking about how he dismisses not just magic, but witches. Magic is a part of who I am. And who I am is a witch.
I can feel him watching me. Studying me. I don't know what he's looking for or what he's thinking, but I've never hidden who I am. Nothing about me is a lie. For better or worse, I am unapologetically myself and people can take it or leave it.
"This is very smart, Morrigan. I like this plan."
At least Maria's on my side.
After the silence stretches into minutes, after he turns away from me and watches the countryside go past the window, after my anger has settled to a simmer, I finally say, "You know what? Never mind. It was a bad idea. You keep snooping on your own and hoping my mom or Nana don't catch you. I'll find what I need on my own."
Like I always do.
He doesn't respond, instead playing with his phone until a different Celestial Alchemy mix comes on the stereo. Normally I'd be mad at someone changing the music without my permission in my car, but I'm tired of being mad. I'd rather chill out before the concert so I can enjoy myself.
Besides, they're kind of my favorite band. Not just because they're my cousins.
We don't talk the rest of the drive, which is another two hours. But I'm still so aware of his presence, I can feel him in a way that makes my skin prickle. Every time he looks over at me, I go hot. And the never-ending throbbing in my pants keeps me on edge.
We can't get to Milwaukee soon enough. I need some space.
Finally, we're in the city, taking the highway exit into downtown. Sapphire got me a pass to park by their tour busses, so parking is a breeze. By the time I turn off the engine and unbuckle my seatbelt, I'm beyond ready for some space between me and Zach.
He opens his door and has one leg out when he stops. Just sits there for a moment. And I'm suspended in anticipation; why isn't he getting all the way out?
He sighs deeply and scrubs his hand over his face.
"OK. I'll do it. Let's do our dirt digging together."
ZACH
Yet again, holy shit.
Truly, holy shit, how is this my life?
I don't know how many times these thoughts have gone through my head. All through the drive, during sound check, during the quick rehearsal Sapphire had me do.
Sapphire Goode, having me rehearse for her. To play with her. With Celestial Alchemy.
Holy shit.
I'm nervous as fuck. And for some bizarre reason, I'm looking for Morgan. The show starts in five minutes, there's no opening band. I have to be on stage in five minutes and I am compelled to find the woman who drives me up a wall.
But I can't seem to stop myself.
I check the Green Room, and find her in there with her sisters, Evan, and Grant. As soon as I lay eyes on her, the cymbals crashing in my head quiet. My heart pounds a little lighter. My pulse slows to an almost normal rate.
She glances up and our gazes collide, hers a warm, welcoming hot chocolate color. Her eyebrows twitch, like she's going to frown. But then she does something unexpected.
She smiles.
Morgan smiles at me; it's tentative, but it's a smile. Now my heart is racing for different reasons. She's so fucking beautiful when she smiles. I can't help but smile back. Which makes her smile grow wider.
The need to kiss her floods through me, and I picture myself striding across the room to do just that. But of course I can't.
"Three minutes!" Gavin, the stage manager, hurries by, yelling the time over and over.
"Don't you need to get out there?" Sirona asks, oblivious to the reason I'm rooted where I stand.
"Uh, yeah. Just had to check on something." I force myself to turn, to look away from Morgan. I head for the stage.
I barely hear it, if I were two steps farther away, I'd have missed it, but Morgan yells, "Break a leg! But not a drumstick! "
I chuckle as I walk up to the rest of the band. The women who are my bandmates, if only for tonight.
"You ready?" Amethyst asks, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.
I chuckle nervously. "As much as I'll ever be and not at all."
Sapphire grins at me. "Sounds about right." She rolls her shoulders and tosses her long, blue braid over her shoulder.
"All right." She claps her hand on my shoulder. "Showtime."
She marches on stage and the crowd goes wild, cheering and yelling for their beloved lead singer. Amethyst goes next, up to her bass, which she slings over her shoulder. Garnet follows, picking up the ukelele she’ll use for the first song and strumming a few notes. And then it's me.
I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, loud enough to be heard over the roar of the crowd. But I can do this. It's literally a once-in-a-lifetime experience, so I'm doing my best to ignore my nerves and take it all in.
The lights are blindingly bright as I step onto the stage, the audience a sea of darkness beyond. I can barely tell there are people out there. Which is probably for the best.
I take my seat behind my drum set and pick up my sticks. Weigh them in my hands, let my fingers loosen up. I test my right hand by tapping the cymbal and the noise in the converted basketball stadium rises even higher.
And I'm grinning.
This is fucking amazing.
"How we doing tonight, Milwaukee?" Sapphire yells into the microphone.
Whistles and cheers are now loud enough to drown out even the pounding of my pulse.
"We had a little change of plans at the last minute, and we've got a new drummer with us tonight. I want you to give a warm welcome to Zach Werner! "
All three sisters turn in my direction, arms out toward me. Heat rushes through me. When we discussed how the concert would start off, they didn't mention this. But I'm clearly expected to stand, so I do. A spotlight swings around and I can barely see, but I try not to squint as I raise my arms and wave my drumsticks in greeting.
It feels sort of pathetic, but what else am I supposed to do? I don't know what professional drummers do.
Relief rushes through me when Sapphire turns back to her microphone and I drop down to my stool, ready to play. Sapphire calls out the count, I pick it up by tapping my cymbal, and then we're off. Playing "Don't Go Back Underground" and tuning out the noise and the lights, the way I do when I'm playing on a tiny stage in a dive bar back home, and just playing.
The rhythm moves through me, and my movements seem to flow. It's the best I've ever played, one song rolling into the next.
It almost feels like... Shit.
It kinda feels like magic. But the metaphorical kind, because magic isn't real.
After three songs, I'm drenched in sweat. I miss a few beats to tear off my sopping t-shirt and toss it on the floor.
The center fills with screams, and when I glance up, Garnet and Amethyst are both grinning at me. Amethyst blows me a kiss and Garnet winks.
Which startles me into missing another beat. I have to pause to find my place and jump back in.
If only I felt for them even a small percentage of the lust I feel for Morgan. Not that I'd want to get involved with them either—favorite band or not, they're still lying about being witches—but it wouldn't be so disconcerting to be attracted to one of them.
But I'm not thinking about that right now. I let myself get lost in the music, in the flow of my body as I drum .
As lost as I am, Morgan's face keeps popping into my mind. The way she smiled at me in the Green Room, a wide, full smile with teeth, that transformed her pretty face into exquisite beauty. And I let myself picture her. Because it feels good. And tonight is all about feeling good. I don't let loose very often, but tonight, I'll let myself.
I don't, however, let myself dwell on how I want to make her smile like that again. And again and again.
They already told me they don't do encores, so when we move into "Bound by Shadows," I know the concert is almost over. I let myself look out over the drums and through the lights, focusing on the crowd. Drinking in their energy, adding it to my already ramped up energy. One last time before this amazing experience is over.
The secret no one tells musicians is how arousing performing is. I'm always a little horny after a performance, but tonight I’m horny as fuck. Maybe because I was also thinking about Morgan.
The song is over and applause and cheers and whistles and all other types of noise boom through the stadium. The sisters bow, and I stand up and bow too, behind my drums.
Sapphire and Amethyst wave me out from the safety of my set, out onto the stage to stand between them for yet another bow. My face is flaming and I'm a little too aware of the fact that my dick is half hard. And I'm shirtless. Dripping with sweat, the roots of my hair not just damp but wet. I desperately need a shower and a good jerk off. But I suspect we won't be going directly back to our hotel.
We take bow after bow, and as we do, my arousal cools a little. Though the adoration of the crowd is pretty damn heady. I could get used to this. When I play with the BioRhythmics, we get a smattering of applause. Occasionally my bandmate Juan's girlfriend comes, and we get a few whistles from her.
This is next level. Sapphire yells something to me, standing right next to me and leaning in closer. And I have no idea what she says.
And I'm grinning. I'm not someone given to grins; I know this about myself. But it's impossible to wipe the expression off my face right now.
Finally, Sapphire yells into the microphone, "Thank you so much, Milwaukee! We've had an amazing time! Good night!"
And it's over. We file offstage, the crowd quickly quieting behind us. The stage lights go down before I'm to the stairs.
And just like that, the arousal is back. The adrenaline and excitement are surging through me, and my mind locks onto one thing.
Morgan.
She's standing to the side of the stage with Bronwen, and they're both grinning as they chat. And it punches me in the gut again, how fucking gorgeous she is when she smiles like that.
Without a word, I walk up to them. I might be stalking, just a little. I'm determined. My hand wraps around her upper arm, the feel of her soft skin shooting electricity up my arm.
Still without speaking, I pull her with me. I'm not even entirely sure what I'm doing, I just know what my instincts drive me to.
"What are you—" She doesn't finish the sentence.
In answer, I open the first door I can find, herd her into the small room, kick the door closed behind me. I back her up to the wall, my body pressed against hers from knee to chest. I can feel her breasts against me and my cock grows even harder.
I press it into her, sweet relief and sweet torture at the same time.
She looks up at me, equal parts confusion and desire. It's there, in her molten eyes .
So I do what I've been dying to do all night. All week. Hell, weeks. I've wanted this for entirely too long.
I lower my head. Brush my lips ever-so-softly against hers. Give her a chance to protest, to push me away.
She doesn't.
I kiss her.