Chapter 22 #2
The lights went out all at once, and the roar of the thousands of people waiting to see Mia nearly left her deaf.
Her pulse spiked as though she were the one about to walk out in front of all those people, and her heart lurched when she saw Mia coming from her left, escorted by a technician who lit the way with a flashlight.
The singer wore wide black pants with strips of fabric hanging everywhere, open-top boots, and a crop top that left part of her stomach exposed.
Erin swallowed hard, especially when Mia was about to climb the steps and stopped at the last second to change course and walk toward her instead.
"Wish me luck, Dooley," she said, and though her expression was just a shadow in the dim light of the flashlight, Erin could see the brightness of her eyes and her full lips.
"I don't think you need it, but good luck, Wilder."
Mia answered with a wide grin, adjusted the earpiece she wore, and this time, finally, climbed the steps.
The concert kicked off with the same ferocity as always, and Mia brought that magnetic energy that defined her, but to Erin it felt like everything was amplified compared to the other times: the aggression when she lunged forward, the sensuality when she moved among the dancers, the intensity of her gaze.
Erin was on the verge of losing her heart through her mouth, completely hypnotized by her.
There was even a moment when Mia moved to the edge of the stage, dropped to her knees, and sang out at an audience that went absolutely wild, while Erin felt a restless ache stir between her thighs.
The show went off without incident: Mia hydrated whenever she could, and the fans did their job, keeping the brutal heat from making her collapse.
But at one point Erin noticed the singer's hands shaking slightly, and on instinct she stepped forward as if she were about to go up on stage—then stopped, because in that moment Mia turned toward her side and she saw nothing alarming in her expression.
The concert finally ended and Mia came off it flooded with energy and adrenaline. She ran down the steps and came toward Erin with a huge smile, breathless and sweaty as always, and Erin had to work very hard not to lean in and devour her.
"Your hands are shaking. Are you okay?" the doctor asked, taking them in hers and studying them as if she expected to find something there.
"Yeah, it's the adrenaline." Mia couldn't wipe the smile off her face, even as it trembled with exhaustion.
Erin took her pulse at the neck with one hand, not noticing the other was still covering Mia's, holding it tight as though trying to steady the tremor herself.
"Racing," she said with a smile. "Go shower. I'll come check on you in a little while."
"Did you like it?" Mia asked suddenly.
Erin looked at her and found the singer's blue eyes locked on hers. She could see the anticipation in her expression, and it made her smile, because she had the sense that her opinion mattered to Mia.
"More than any other show I've seen you do. Tonight you were incredible," she admitted—and she wasn't lying. It had felt like the best performance of all the ones she'd witnessed.
"Good." Mia's crooked smile appeared. "Because I performed like you were the only person in the audience."
The singer turned and walked away, leaving Erin frozen in place, heart in her throat and a battalion of sparks dancing across her whole body.
When her legs finally cooperated, she moved to the medical room to collect her things and give Mia time to shower and let her body settle.
She startled when, distracted while loading up her bag, the door clicked shut behind her.
Erin turned and found Lexie, who walked toward her and slid a hand along her neck just before kissing her.
The doctor couldn't react—she hadn't had time to decide whether she wanted this—and found herself kissing back because she'd been turned on since the moment she'd seen Mia at the start of the show, and the journalist's hands were fast, already touching places on her body that only fed the desire building inside her.
She let herself be pushed back until her hips met the edge of the exam table and Lexie was between her legs, but when she felt the pressure against her, Erin was pulled back to the bus that had brought them to Philadelphia, to Mia's room, to the singer's legs wrapped around her waist while it was she who had pressed in just like that—and even though she was very turned on and still carried that unsatisfied ache from the orgasm Noah had interrupted, she realized Lexie was not who she wanted to let herself go with.
Erin broke the kiss and eased back slowly, while Lexie blinked, trying to understand why she was being denied something she'd very much enjoyed.
"What's wrong?" the journalist asked.
The doctor took the hand Lexie had pressed between her thighs and moved it aside, then filled her lungs with a slow, unsteady breath.
"I can't, Lexie," she whispered, and drew another sharp breath because her pulse was all over the place and she was still struggling to find a normal rhythm.
"Okay, of course." The journalist stepped back a couple of paces, dragging a hand over her face to clear her head. "This isn't a great spot anyway. Sorry."
"It's not that." Lexie's eyes watched her with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "I just can't right now. There's a lot going on in my head."
After a brief pause while the journalist absorbed the fact that she wouldn't be going back to the hotel with Erin Dooley tonight, Lexie pulled herself together.
"Don't worry about it. This is supposed to be fun, not stressful for either of us.
" She curved her lips into a small smile, and Erin gave her a grateful one back.
"You have my number. If you change your mind, call me—my hotel isn't far from yours, and I promise I'll knock next time," she added with a grin as she moved toward the door.
Erin raised a hand to wave goodbye, then sat for a few minutes on the table, gripping the edge hard while she quietly congratulated herself for having been able to stop when all she'd wanted was to come.
Five minutes later she left the room and headed for Mia's dressing room, but when she reached the door she stopped dead, because it was ajar again, and the memory of the singer being devoured by that woman hit her without warning, feeling like she'd walked straight into a wall.
"Is she alone?" she asked the bodyguard at the door.
"Yes, go ahead."
The man gestured, and Erin, slightly dazed, pushed the door open and went in, finding Mia still in her show clothes with her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat.
"You haven't showered yet?" she asked, closing the door behind her.
Mia fanned herself with her hand and smiled.
"Couldn't. I had to sit through Jude practically glowing while he walked me through the concert numbers. He just left."
"Okay. Let me take your vitals and then I'll leave you alone for the night."
Erin took her hand and, while she held her wrist and counted the beats, Mia watched her steadily. The doctor didn't look up from the watch until she was done, and when she did, she found the singer's crooked smile, and then Mia suddenly moved in until she was almost pressed against her.
"I'd kiss you right now if you'd let me, Dooley," she whispered—but she stepped back before Erin could say anything. "I'm going to shower. I promise I'll eat something after."
Mia disappeared through the door to the private bathroom, and Erin noticed her own hand was shaking as she wrote down the pulse.
She stepped out into the hallway and jotted it down before she forgot, then took her own out of sheer curiosity, because after hearing Mia whisper to her, it had gone through the roof.
Mia's was ninety-four. Erin's was one hundred and three.