Backstage Pass Page 10

  In a few minutes, Nora no longer had time to dwell on her misery. Workers, stagehands, press people, and record executives were suddenly everywhere. By three fifteen, the vacant auditorium was a converted hive of activity, emitting a loud and constant drone. The lighting people were on Nora's elbow; someone from the local cable network was trying to schedule a postshow interview; cords were whizzing past her head, as microphones and amps and guitars started to appear. She took a deep breath and stepped backstage—right into Derek Devlin's arms.

  "Derek! What are you still doing here? I thought your setup time was this morning."

  "Babe, I missed you is all.” Derek pulled Nora against him and plastered his lips over hers. His tongue delved deep, while he worked her breasts furiously over her clothes. She let herself go for a moment, to try and get a handle on what she was feeling. Derek was relentless in his desire, but not in the same way Alan used to be.

  There was nothing considerate about Derek's lovemaking, no generosity, no thoughts of her pleasure. It was all about him. When Nora pulled away, she saw anger. He yanked her close to rub his strong erection against her thigh.

  "You'll love working for me, babe. Tonight's the night, all I need is a little help from you.” Her skin sweltered under his breath; a liquid heat surged and pooled between her thighs. Nora's body responded in spite of her reluctance. His eyes saw straight into her rampant desire.

  "I know where we can go,” he said, as he hustled Nora down a narrow concrete hallway. It looked like the sterile underbelly of a processing plant, until a door flew open revealing a darkened maze of curtains and discarded props. The newly built auditorium, where the bands were to play, connected to an older, beautifully ornate theater. She followed Derek across the vacant parquet stage to an old dressing room. Derek latched the door and turned to her with a lewd smile.

  "I'm gonna give you a little now, but the rest will have to wait until you've done something for me.” Backing her against the door, Derek wedged a strong knee between Nora's legs and pushed upward. The rock-hard thigh caught her most sensitive spot and Nora shuddered from head to foot.

  "You like that, don't you?” Derek whispered, as he moved against her harder. Her lips parted and closed without speaking. The pressure swirled her toward a place she didn't want to go, not with him. Not with anyone but Alan.

  "I know you want it,” Derek said, as he stepped back to let Nora collect herself. “And if you'll tell me what I want to know, we can get right back to it."

  There was no use in leading Derek on and allowing him to think she would consider taking up with his band—or him.

  "Derek, I'm sorry, but I've decided not to take your offer, whether Wanderlust wins or not. My heart just wouldn't be in it.” Nora unlocked the door and started to pull it open when Derek's fist shot out and slammed it shut.

  "It ain't your heart I'm after, Nora, and I don't care if you work for me or not, as long as you tell me what songs Alan's got on his playlist. Nothing matters beyond that."

  "The songs? Why should you care?"

  "Well, the music makes the difference, don't it, babe? I've done everything I can to make sure Alan loses, but just in case, I need to know if Wanderlust plans to rock out or sing the blues ... No one's getting an edge on my band."

  "I don't know Alan's playlist, and I wouldn't tell you if I did!” Nora struggled at the door, but Derek held firm and grabbed her wrists. She aimed a swift knee at his groin. He dodged and swiped a backhand across her face. Blood splattered the wall as Nora's head snapped to the side.

  "That'll cost you plenty, little girl. Besides, you're gonna want my dick in good working order.” A quick pull ripped her blouse down the front. Derek was groping for the camisole beneath when Nora managed to land a closed fist on his temple.

  Derek reeled back in pain, and Nora was out the door in an instant. She ran blindly through rows of heavy curtains, imagining Derek on her heels. At a corner Nora saw him, now joined with the rest of his band, and she turned and stumbled into a pile of bell ropes. The boys separated and closed in. Nora scrambled to her feet and careened toward a door on the side aisle. Giving it her shoulder, she burst through and landed right into the middle of Wanderlust's setup.

  Alan had her in his arms instantly, holding her, asking if she were okay, asking who hurt her. Nora's confession wheezed out, “It was Derek. He wanted your playlist; he's set to do damage."

  The five guys looked at each other for a split second before dashing off after her assailant. Nora sat up and rubbed her chin, a line of blood trailed down her cleavage. She saw Alan's jacket on a chair and slipped it on. Amidst all the music business hustle and bustle, no one even noticed the two missing bands.

  Nora wiped her face and made a beeline for the old theater. She couldn't remember the way, but could hear the sounds of a fight in progress, and followed her ears. When she broke onto the scene, there was a vast melee of flying fists and bodies taking center stage. Maybe two dozen in number, the fighters appeared randomly paired, as if they'd just started swinging at the nearest moving form.

  Derek was off to one side pummeling Rob pretty thoroughly, while Alan had two on him, but seemed to be holding his own. Every few punches, he'd duck and check if Rob was doing okay before pounding back in earnest. Nora could see two of the fledglings laughing as they swung, sometimes connecting, other times catching air. The third of their group was slumped against a backdrop, out cold. So were three or four of Derek's men.

  Nora was deciding where she would do the most good, when a flood of stage lights burst on, and several men armed with loudspeakers entered the room. Short, bald, and genuinely frightened, they could only be the producers, Nora thought, as they pleaded over squelching microphones for the brawl to “desist."

  Desist? Well, it stopped Derek in mid-swing, allowing Rob to land a blow that took Derek off his feet. The rest of the scuffle wound down naturally after that, as fewer of the fighters bothered to get up, and those still standing were simply left with no one to battle.

  Alan was among the last to stop, and when he did, he threaded his way over and hauled Derek up by the collar. The fight would have surely recommenced, had it not been for the gaggle of small producers who surrounded the two and pulled them apart with a dozen trembling hands.

  Nora wove her way through rows of seats to try and reach Alan, but he and Derek were hustled off stage by the producers, along with several security guards. They were escorted toward a room on the far side of the old stage and the door slammed shut behind them.

  Now everyone stood to see what was going to happen. Members of both bands, side by side, looked nervously at each other and wondered if this little fracas was going to get them disqualified—or land them in jail.

  Nora found Rob and threw her arms around him. When he saw her, he started laughing, spraying fine droplets of blood over Alan's clean coat.

  "Alan loves you, you know,” Rob said, as he took her arm and walked the winding tunnels to the auditorium. “Don't even think about running out on him now."

  "He didn't trust me with the playlist, Rob. What makes you think he'll trust me after what happened with Derek?"

  "Oh, it turns out Alan has more sense than I gave him credit for. Stick around tonight, and I think you'll agree."

  The auditorium was ablaze with wildly unfocused lights. As technicians set power poles, Nora and Rob grabbed a couple of folding chairs to watch the activity. Two identical stages were set at opposite ends of the hall. The seating capacity was a couple thousand, and every seat was sold.

  The three fledglings returned and resumed setting up instruments and amps as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Rob nodded toward them and gave Nora a hand up. “No rest for the weary."

  Setup was nearly complete when Alan made it back. He walked up alone, grinning, holding an ice-filled cup over a magnificent black eye. He bent to give Nora a kiss, emitting a loud “ouch,” when she kissed him back. The boys were too nervous to laugh as they awaited the verdict.


  "The contest will go on as scheduled,” Alan declared. “After all was said and done, it became a simple matter of economics; the promoters have too much money riding on this deal to let it fall apart. In fact, they think the behind-the-scenes ‘Battle of the Bands’ will generate loads of publicity for Triumph Records. They even had Derek and I pose for pictures."

  "You're kidding, right?” Rob asked incredulously.

  "Even I couldn't make that up!” Alan replied.

  Nora looked around and saw Derek's band moving around on the far stage. The contest was evidently still on as Alan claimed.

  "I won the toss, so I chose to let Derek play first. That gives Wanderlust the advantage of looking like the featured act."

  "Great job, Alan! I'd slap you on the back, but we might not survive it,” Rob said, as he nursed his bruised hands. Alan and the fledglings laughed. There wasn't one among them that wasn't worn, torn, bruised and bleeding.

  Nora felt like an outsider and longed to slip away. So much anger had passed between her and Alan. She'd told him she hated him. And that was after she'd made him a substitute lover, made him take second place behind Derek Devlin. How will I ever make it up to him?

  "Grab that cord, Nora, and plug me in,” Alan hollered. He trusted her with a plug? Well, it was a start, anyway.

  Nora made herself useful, and soon Wanderlust was ready. Unfortunately, before Alan laid his fingers on the strings, one of the officials came over and told him there was no time for sound and equipment checks; the bands had spent their rehearsal beating each other silly.

  "Lights down in five minutes,” he warned.

  "Looks like we're playing cold tonight, boys, so we may as well watch,” Alan said.

  The auditorium went dark, and there was a flurry of activity as people jostled and settled. Alan pulled his chair close to Nora and laid a hand on her knee. It was a long darkness, intended to dim eyes and raise excitement levels.

  Only a few whispers were heard in the hushed stillness before an ear-splitting pyrotechnic blast exploded to signal DDR's entrance. Fountains of multicolored flames burst and sputtered to impressive heights before igniting a thin, convoluted fuse that burnt its way slowly across the stage.

  Alan growled, “I knew he'd do something like this! And what did we order—two sixty-watt green bulbs?"

  "It's okay, Alan,” Nora whispered. “You have the better band. You don't need that stuff."

  When the fuse sparked to the end, a blinding wall of fire shot up, and Derek Devlin walked straight through it and started singing. The rest of his band seemed to materialize out of thin air. As the crowd jumped to their feet, Alan rolled his head in his hands and stopped watching.

  "I can't stand this. I'm going outside,” he said.

  Nora followed. The parking garage was remarkably quiet considering the din inside. “Concrete walls,” Alan remarked. “The better to not hear Derek Devlin through."

  Nora felt small and awful. Words weren't enough, but she had to try. “Alan, please forgive me for everything I've put you through."

  "It's not your fault, honey. I'm as much to blame as you."

  "That's not true."

  "Oh, but it is. I wanted to get you in bed for my own selfish reasons. I never had the slightest intention of letting you go to Derek. I hoped to keep you for myself."

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I tried, but somewhere along the line, I realized that if he was your choice, I was just going to have to accept it."

  "Well, I certainly misjudged what Derek wanted from me.” Nora sighed. “And I can usually read people so well."

  "Really?” Alan started laughing.

  "What's so funny?"

  "Nora Barton, you are by far the worst, most inaccurate, piss-poor judge of character I've ever known! You misjudged Derek, and me. I'm not in this for the easy score, Nora, because you're the most difficult woman I've ever met. You don't even know what you want, let alone what anyone else wants!"

  "Damn you, Alan, I know enough to know that I—"

  He sealed her lips with his finger. “I know, I know—you hate me."

  "Not quite hate,” Nora said, as she kissed the tip of his finger gently. “Closer to love, I'd say."

  "How close?” His eyes were wide and blue and hopeful.

  "This close,” Nora said, as she swept him into a kiss. She had just enough time to give Alan a little comfort, as long as she didn't waste time with preliminaries. Her hand searched low and she had Alan unzipped before he knew it.

  "Better not,” he cautioned. “I've been dying for the past four days; I won't be able to last too long."

  "This is for you, Alan,” she said. “I want you to come quick; in fact, I've figured out the perfect way to insure it."

  "Who am I to argue?” He grinned, as Nora worked his jeans down just far enough to unleash his penis. It sprang to instant attention.

  "That's a lovely start,” Nora murmured as she plopped her purse on the ground and started rummaging around. She found the makeup case she was looking for and began sorting through it. Alan gave her a pained look.

  "Could you maybe touch up your makeup a little later, honey? We're in a public parking garage ... We could get arrested for indecent exposure."

  "What do you mean we?” Nora smiled sweetly.

  Alan looked confused as she withdrew a small tube and began squeezing the contents into her palm. “It's menthol lip gloss,” she said, “but I have the feeling it can do more than just soften lips."

  To his credit, Alan didn't object when she rubbed her hand over the thick shaft, slathering the minty gel the entire length of him. She took care to avoid the head, which might not appreciate the particular properties of peppermint.

  "I ... uh ... it's beginning to tingle.” Alan observed. He was breathing so ragged by now, Nora could hardly understand him.

  "Try not to talk, Alan, just concentrate on the pleasure.” He closed his eyes and didn't see Nora undo the pearl choker she was wearing and expertly weave it through her fingers. When she slid her hand over his cock, Alan's eyes flew open in surprise.

  "You'll be off in no time,” she whispered, as she tightened her grip. The pearls rotated independently, every stroke of her hand thrilled with tiny rolling sensations. From the moment she'd touched him, Alan was a goner.

  Leaning forward, he gripped her shoulders and hung on as if for dear life. She'd taken note of what speed and pressures Alan liked on his penis, and where and when to use them. Now she brought it all together for him. Long, easy pulls from the base cooled the menthol, while a flurry of short, tight strokes under the glans cranked up the heat. And the pearls intensified the sensation a thousandfold.

  Alan actually whimpered as his cock swelled in her hands. Nora was sorry she didn't have more time, but this had to be quick. Jiggling the cluster of pearls just below the glans set Alan off as promised. Slow and melodic, his semen pulsed over her fingers in a heated rhythm to her own heart. She loved this man more than life, and she was willing to spend a lifetime proving it.

  His hand closed around the pearls, slick and beautiful. “I'll keep these tonight, for luck,” he panted, securing them in a pocket as he zipped up. “And I'll find a special way to give them back to you."

  "Perhaps as you count your gold records, you can slip them down my blouse.” Her remark brought a dark look to his face.

  "Winning isn't everything. And it wouldn't mean a thing without you, Nora. I need to know—before I go through with all this—if you're in it for the long haul?"

  "If I'm going to marry a music teacher when I finish grad school, he'd better be raking in some big cash now, that's all I have to say."

  "That's all you need to say.” His mouth curved in a slow, steady smile of joy.

  When they made it back to the auditorium, Alan stole a kiss before joining the rest of his band. DDR had just finished their last encore.

  The cheers went on and on until Nora thought the audience would never stop. Derek took h
is bows with aplomb, waving and striking a pose of victory for the smattering of flashbulbs that assaulted him. He looked too confident. He looked like a winner. Nora grew queasier by the minute.

  Over the announcer's drone, the stage darkened for Wanderlust. Nora could see Alan and the band moving into position to play. It was a simple opening—Alan always preferred an understated approach—just the drawn-out wail of his electric guitar as the lights slowly went up. The moment was coming, Nora had seen the intro hundreds of times before. Alan played, the lights went up. Tonight was no different ... except there wasn't a sound coming from Alan's guitar.

  Alan jiggled the connection; one of the fledglings sifted through the cords, checked floor plugs and gave an okay sign. Alan tried again, no sound. He signaled on his watch that he needed ten minutes. The lights went down on a subdued crowd.

  "What? What's wrong?” Nora had bolted onstage and fallen in with the rest of the group as they tried to rectify the problem. They found nothing wrong, until Rob lifted his head from the floor where he'd been listening intently.

  "This amp is dead. I mean totally dead."

  "Pull the backup amp. I'll switch and go with that,” Alan said, as he quickly unplugged. Another cord was handed to him and attached to the new amp. He struck a chord, no sound. He looked at his Stratocaster, shaking his head. “Bring me the Martin; we'll run our songs in reverse until I can find out what's wrong with my guitar."

  Rob was still scrambling on hands and knees, and a minute later he delivered the bad news. “There's nothing wrong with your guitar, Alan. They're all down—every amp on this stage is fried."

  "How in the hell...” Alan threw his hands in the air.

  "Wait!” Nora gasped, “I remember something Derek said while he was trying to get the playlist. He said he'd done all he could to make sure Wanderlust wouldn't win tonight. Do you think he could have sabotaged our amps?"

  "Not if he was with you the whole time,” Rob said.

  "What about the rest of his band?” Alan turned to Nora. “You said they didn't show up until you were almost back to the auditorium."