Chapter Seventeen
What if no one showed up?
They’d been told that the show was sold out, but Winter kept thinking there’d been a mistake. That they’d get a call saying not to come, that they’d confused them with Divine Gorgon or some other, more popular band.
She and Saya sat next to each other and watched through the coffee shop window as the mechanic changed the tour bus’s tire. Ramsay, Mack and the roadies stood around the guy supportively. If this didn’t go fast they’d be late getting into Toronto. They’d already had to replace a roadie a few days ago because he had a criminal record he’d neglected to mention and couldn’t go over the border. Some days organizing for this was like walking uphill in cold oatmeal in a snowstorm.
“I don’t know if she’s going to last long.” Saya grimaced and nodded out the window to where Tess, the early childhood educator they’d hired for the tour, was walking along the edge of the parking lot with Spider. They were picking dandelions and other weeds and she was helping him identify them from a book about plants. The girl looked like an extra from Little House on the Prairie and was about that worldly. Hopefully they wouldn’t scare her too badly.
The private school that had turned Spider away because of what his parents did for a living and because of the band’s reputation, came to mind and made her frown. That was for the best now, though, considering they were touring. Touring on their own instead of as an opening band was making it possible for them to set their own pace.
“She caught Mack kissing me when we went for a stroll behind the coffee shop earlier and I thought she was going to faint.”
“We told her the situation.”
“Yes, but I think maybe she only pretended to understand.”
“Come on, Spider is a kid and he understands.”
Saya laughed. “She’s been very sheltered. My son is also pretty smart.”
“ Our son.” Winter frowned, not believing that she actually had to say the words aloud. Hadn’t she shown them enough that she had been a schmuck about things? “Mack and I might not be on the paperwork, but he’s ours too. If Tess doesn’t work out, I’ll deal with her.” She’d hired her, so she could fire her. Winter broke a piece off the donut Spider hadn’t liked and popped it in her mouth, hoping they could drop the subject.
“You really aren’t leaving?” Saya chewed on her bottom lip and fiddled with the handle of her coffee mug.
How could she make her understand? Being more direct? “Nope. And if you break up with me I’ll take you to court for visitation.”
Saya burst into tears and Winter patted her awkwardly and shoved some napkins in her direction.
“That came out wrong. I’m sure it will never come to that. You and Ramsay wouldn’t stop us from seeing him. I know that.”
Her girl threw her arms around her neck. “It’s not that. I still wasn’t sure. I mean, I knew you really seem to like him, but I kept waiting for you to say it was too much. Like when he was sick a few weeks ago and kept waking us up.”
She and Saya had been zombies, taking turns sitting up with him, while Spider had gotten over the flu. Then Winter and Ramsay had caught it. Spider had been the only one in the family who’d “read” her picture books and snuck her chocolate in bed. Just looking at his little face made her smile, even when she’d felt like total crap.
“I didn’t know how it would be.” Winter shrugged. The warm feeling that she got whenever she thought of Spider filled her. “I knew he’d be work and gross stuff, and we’d have no privacy, and all that. I didn’t know how it would feel when he called for me when he had a nightmare, or when he held my hand at the park. How could I have known that? It’s so different when it’s your own kid’s snot.”
Saya’s dewy eyes shone. “It’s true. You really do love him.” She let go of Winter’s neck and kissed her full on the lips, oblivious to the thumbs-up the trucker waiting at the front counter gave them.
*
It was no mistake. The place was huge and it was fucking packed. Polson Pier was the biggest venue they’d played, and Winter felt like she was going to puke. She paced until a blister started on her heel. They had barely arrived in time, but they’d been on stage together so often now that they didn’t need half a day to psych themselves up anymore. It wasn’t like they wore elaborate costumes, other than Saya’s new Lolita dress, which the guys had proven came off easily enough. They’d stripped her as soon as they’d arrived, and laid her across their laps.
Ramsay held her down by the throat while Mack finger fucked her. The sounds of her distress soon had Winter moving closer, watching, but she didn’t join in. Her anxiety wouldn’t let her relax.
What if she fucked up every song? This wasn’t Sprawl, where people would forgive their mistakes. This was huge. Visions of them getting booed off the stage or having bottles pelted at them intruded repeatedly into her thoughts. Some of the audience would be fans, but some were probably just there out of curiosity. A venue this big was the next step on the rung, and if they blew it, they might not go much further.
As soon as they let her up, Saya came to her, begging for mercy. “Please, Winter. They don’t understand. I’m too close to coming, I won’t be able to sing.” She rubbed against her like a cat that needed attention. “Please!”
“My poor girl. Did our bad men make you suffer?” Her anxiety was forgotten as Saya kissed at her mouth, trying to lure Winter into easing her. “You sing more prettily when you’re horny. It’s good for you.”
Saya licked at Winter’s lips, mewling and trying to push Winter’s hand under the hem of her dress. “I promise I’ll sing better than I ever have. Please?”
She pressed up between Saya’s legs. “If I lick you here will you come?”
“So fast you’ll barely have to touch me, I swear.”
Winter glanced at Ramsay to see what he thought, but he was distracted. The men were standing in the middle of the room. Ramsay had his hand down the front of Mack’s jeans and Mack’s head was pressed into their Dom’s neck.
With no direction to behave themselves forthcoming, Winter led Saya to a chair and eased her down.
“Thank you, Winter,” Saya whispered, casting a furtive glance over to Ramsay.
“If you’re that worried he’ll object, maybe we shouldn’t.”
“He didn’t say no, and I’m willing to pay the price.”
Winter bit her lip to keep herself from laughing. Where had Ramsay’s good girl gone? She felt slightly guilty, but Saya’s heated gaze and parted lips tossed Winter’s morality out the window.
She knelt in front of Saya and slid her skirt up her thighs. The scent of the girl’s arousal reached Winter and desire throbbed through her. Not much time. Quietly, she spread Saya’s thighs and slid aside her demure panties. Saya moaned as the air cooled her damp flesh.
There was a knock at the door.
“Fuck!” They all stared at Saya, who reddened and then covered her face with her hands. “Sorry.”
“Too slow, princess. You should have come to me first.” Winter tried to look smug, but now she was wound up, too.
Ramsay went to the door and spoke to whoever was there as Saya and Mack straightened their clothes.
“Time to go.” Ramsay smirked at all three of them, then locked their collars on. Leashing them took no more than a minute.
Nerves attacked her again as Ramsay led them backstage. Her legs felt as wobbly as they did after a good beating. Ramsay paused before walking out onto stage, and Mack grabbed her hand.
“You okay?” The din from the waiting crowd made Mack’s words nearly inaudible.
She nodded jerkily, but it was a lie.
Mack knew her better than that. He pulled aside the neckline of her t-shirt and hovered his mouth over the tender span between neck and shoulder for a moment before he bit down hard. Pain flared, and she grunted, heat streaking through her.
He kissed the spot, and she shivered. “There’s nothing to worry about. Just go out there and kick ass.”
Winter nodded, wishing she’d asked Mack to hurt her more before they’d left the room. The bite had helped though, and it throbbed pleasantly under her shirt – although people would notice it if she and Mack stripped to their jeans again during their break. It wasn’t like their sexual proclivities were a secret anymore, considering.
Ramsay led them on stage on their leashes. People might have thought it was part of their schtick, but really it was his reminder that no matter what happened, or how famous they got, he owned them.
The lights came up, hot and bright, and blinded her for a minute. Ramsay let them off leash. The venue looked both smaller and bigger when it was packed with people the way it was. They’d played gigs at places other than Sprawl, but the venues’ sizes had increased so gradually she almost hadn’t noticed until now.
Chain and padlock swung at her neck as she turned to look at the others. They were serious, even though they’d been horny as hell and giddy when they’d left the green room. They had fans now. Followers who not only left messages on their webpage or blogged about them, but made fan pages with biggish followings. The popularity of Mack’s webcomic had skyrocketed. There was so much speculation about their relationships with each other, and of course the matching collars Ramsay locked around their necks before they walked on stage fueled some of the theories. He’d said they all needed to be well marked.
It didn’t tell the whole story, though. It didn’t explain how she felt when Ramsay made her kneel at his feet, or how Mack tortured her in ways that spoke to her soul. It didn’t explain the intense love she had for Saya, the urge to protect, adore, and defile her.
With collars, many people just thought sex. They didn’t know about the love, the trust, the giving over of yourself. How Ramsay was the sun, but how his light didn’t matter if there was no one to shine it on. D/s was symbiotic. No one person more important than the other. Where most people gossiped about the kink, they had no clue about the love.
Double bass started behind her, vibrating the soles of her feet. Saya pirouetted, her cape swirling around her and giving the crowd a flash of the Lolita costume beneath. She couldn’t have been comfortable, considering how damp Winter knew her panties were.
A naughty smile crept onto her face and two guys in the front row snapped pics of her. With any luck she wouldn’t look like a demented, evil harpy this time. Action shots were always the worst. Somehow Saya always looked like a sweet little school girl, while the guys were beautiful and intense. Not Winter. Pictures of her on stage usually gave the impression that she’d recently escaped a strait jacket.
Winter joined in with Ramsay, and played the opening of Master’s Bitch on her bass. The crowd roared. Their energy buoyed her up, feeding her. Mack and Saya’s voices rose through the primitive beat, and his guitar cut into the fray.
Halfway through the song, people were already crushing against the stage barricades, screaming the lyrics along with Mack, their expressions reverent.
No beer bottles were chucked at them.
She sank into the music and the world around her was forgotten.