Chapter Eleven #2
The other girls have dialed it down, too, going for a more casual vibe, but Effa? She’s something else entirely. The usual edge is gone, replaced by something calm, natural, radiant, like she’s letting the energy of this place soak into her skin.
As they approach the back stairs, hidden from most of the crowd, she stops and turns.
Then locks eyes with me.
That look?
It hits like a fucking freight train.
A surge of raw energy slices through the night air, slamming straight into my chest. My pulse kicks up instantly, my heart pounding as if I’m on stage instead of her.
She smiles, winks, and then turns away and climbs the stairs.
One look.
That’s all it takes.
And I know I’ve got an effect on her.
I see it when we’re close.
But damn if she doesn’t mess with my head just as much.
She makes my pulse race.
And I fucking love it.
“Fuck me. You should see how far your tongue’s hanging out of your mouth right now,” Tank mutters, dragging me back to the present.
I shoot him a glare as he fiddles with the lighting cues, clearly enjoying himself too much.
“Shut up and do your damn job.” I grunt, dragging in a breath to center myself and shift focus back to the control panel.
The crowd roars, finally catching sight of the girls when they step into the light and move to the front of the stage. Their energy flips the atmosphere from simmering to explosive.
“Hey, Colorado! How you all doing tonight?” Effa calls out, her voice echoing over the crowd.
Alana drops into a Jungle mix on the DJ set, effortlessly controlling the build.
She’s got serious skills because it takes a hell of a lot of timing and instinct to blend the live and digital like that.
The crowd goes wild, stomping and cheering in sync.
It’s not stadium-level volume, but it still shakes the amphitheater with enough force to buzz in your chest.
I can’t help the slow grin tugging at my mouth. This crew is something else. Being part of this team—hell, helping bring their vision to life—it feels so good.
“I think you might’ve heard of us,” Effa says, full of fire and confidence. “We’re a little band called Luminous, and we’re here to rock your fucking socks off tonight. So hold on to your seats ‘cause we’re about to blow this joint!”
Alana slides into the first beat of “Falling,” and the lights dim on cue. Kristy drives in with heavy percussion while Andi and Casey come in behind her with grinding guitar riffs. It hits hard and fast, pure electric rock, gritty and clean all at once. Luminous owns this stage—every time.
The sound pulses through me as I track the sequencing on my screen, my eyes flicking up just enough to watch Effa step into the rhythm as if she were born for it.
She moves like the music is tethered to her spine, gliding across the stage with an effortless sway that hypnotizes.
She hoists her guitar into place, her hair catching the breeze and tumbling over her shoulders in waves of golden light.
Fuck, she is everything.
The way she looks tonight—the flowing dress, the goddess vibe—it shouldn’t scream rock star, but somehow, it does. She’s soft and dangerous at once. Watching her like this, owning every inch of that stage, only fuels the raw, primal need clawing at my chest.
I shift where I stand, adjusting myself as my cock strains in my jeans. Just the sight of her, the way she commands that crowd... it’s maddening.
I want her.
All of her.
I want to bury myself inside her and mark every inch of her skin until there’s no doubt who she belongs to.
Effa strums her guitar, adding to the intoxicating pulse of the song. Then she steps forward to the mic while I hold my breath.
She opens her mouth, and that voice…
Shit.
Her husky, sensual tone slips into the night like velvet smoke.
It wraps around me, her silky mezzo-soprano notes hitting low and seductive before rising into smooth highs that border on operatic.
It’s beautifully controlled and haunting.
Effa’s not just performing, she’s pouring pieces of herself into the sound, and I feel every damn note.
It crashes into me, unexpected and overwhelming.
Effa doesn’t just sing.
She owns you with her voice.
Watching her from this angle, behind the stage, seeing the crowd beyond and the band in action, it’s a whole different vibe from being stuck in the rafters like before. Here, I get the full picture. The music, the movement, the way Effa owns every beat, it’s fucking electric.
The lighting’s on point tonight. Every strobe, every hue, perfectly timed to her presence. And it’s doing her favors. Effa’s summer dress flows as she moves, and when the lights hit just right, it reveals the perfect silhouette of her legs underneath.
It’s distracting as hell.
Tempting in a way that makes my jaw clench.
She slides into the bridge of the song, and everything shifts—the percussion deepens, the bass pulses harder, syncing with my heartbeat like it’s punching through my chest. She’s not just performing, she’s transforming the whole atmosphere.
Effa’s a storm, and I’m caught in the centre of it.
“Mercs… Mercs, fuck!” Tank hisses, elbowing me hard enough to break my trance. “I know you’ve got a raging boner right now, but seriously, bro, we’ve got a job to do.”
I blink hard, the spell breaking, and glance over at him, scrambling at the lighting controls, sweat on his brow. Shit. He’s doing both our jobs while I’m standing here, craving that beautiful woman like a love-sick lunatic.
“Shit. Sorry, man.” I step up, immediately get back to work, flip switches, and refocus on the timing console.
The song powers on, and I force myself not to look, not to listen, but it’s fucking impossible.
She’s up there, glowing under the lights I set, moving like sin and singing like salvation.
I clench my jaw, trying to get a grip.
Tank was right—about all of it.
I do have a raging boner.
Didn’t even realize how hard I’d gotten until he said something. That’s how deep she has gotten under my skin. And if I don’t get this under control, I’m going to screw up something major.
I’m here to do a job.
This isn’t about fantasy.
It’s about making sure every cue hits, every beat lands, and every light follows through without a hitch.
Because if I mess up?
Then I might actually give them a reason to fire me.
***
I’m riding a high.
The crowd’s thinned out, the music has faded into a low, almost ambient instrumental, and I’m finishing up the pack-down with the rest of the crew. The girls are off with Luke, holed up in the Red Rocks Music Hall of Fame for a VIP meet and greet with a handful of ticket winners.
Tonight was a win.
No doubt about it.
The audience ate it up—every beat, every lyric, every moment. But how could they not? The girls radiate confidence on stage. They own every second, demand your attention, and then hold it in the palm of their hand. It’s magnetic.
My skin still tingles with the aftershocks of it all.
The electricity of the show, the raw power of the crowd, the open sky above us, it’s not something I’ll forget anytime soon.
First time I’ve ever worked a concert literally carved into a mountain range.
And damn if I’m not glad I got to witness it.
Suddenly, a chorus of whistles and cheers breaks the stillness. I turn to see the girls and Luke striding toward us, beaming with post-show adrenaline.
“Whoa, you girls were on fire tonight! This Colorado air agrees with you,” Jay calls out, stepping up and delivering a hard slap to Kristy’s ass. The echo of it pops into the night air.
“Why, thank you, Jay,” Kristy purrs, leaning in close like she’s going to kiss him. “You’re looking mighty hot yourself.”
He closes his eyes, puckers up…
And she dodges at the last second, leaving him hanging and stumbling forward.
Laughter erupts around us.
“Soon, Kristy… soon, my love,” he says dramatically, clutching his chest.
Kristy turns, flashes him a cheeky smile, and throws up a heart sign with her hands before walking off. Jay blows her a kiss, and she catches it with a grin and keeps moving.
“He’s gonna end up being one of those guys who mysteriously appears naked in your bed one day,” Casey mutters.
Tank nods, deadpan. “Yeah, don’t give him ideas. He would.”
Effa walks up to me while the others begin to scatter. My gaze lands on her immediately. She’s radiant and still glowing from the performance.
“Hey,” I say, reaching for her hands and curling them into mine.
She smiles, and warmth shoots from her palms straight into my chest like a shot of whiskey. “Hey, you. The lighting was stunning tonight, absolutely perfect.”
“You made it easy. I had the best view in the house.”
She giggles and nudges me. “Smooth talker. Now come with me, I need to wind down.”
Before I can ask, she tugs my hand and starts pulling me toward the giant rock formation just behind the stage area.
“Effa, I’m all for hanging out,” I say, slowing my steps. “But I need to help the guys finish up—”
Instant regret.
She stops, spinning to face me with raised brows. “Mercs, I love that you’re dedicated. It’s sexy… really. But Tank can handle one night without you. Right?”
I sigh, already caving. “Yeah, he knows what he’s doing.”
She bounces on her toes. “Great! Because it’s late, the stars are out, there’s not a cloud in the sky, and I want to climb some rocks.”
I eye her outfit—long, flowing summer dress, not exactly made for hiking and especially not climbing. “In that?”
She grins. “That’s why I need you. And your company, of course.”
“Of course…” I mutter, chuckling under my breath as I let her lead me toward the massive slab of ancient sandstone.
She walks the edge, palms brushing over it like she’s listening to the stone speak. “This’ll be perfect,” she says, eyes lighting up. “Okay… I’m thinking you go first.”
I stare up at the rock.
It’s easily three or four times my height. Jagged, uneven, with no ropes, no gear, no lights. Just… vibes.
I glance at her. “I’m not sure this is the best idea.”
“Why?” she says with a mischievous gleam in her eye, jabbing me in the ribs. “You chicken?”
I exhale a sharp breath, fighting the grin twitching at my mouth.
“Fuck.”