Backstage Pass Read online

  As per their agreement, she was keeping her hands off Derek, and had somehow convinced him to do the same. But if looks could fuck, Derek would have Nora's legs straight in the air. Alan bristled at Derek's blatant need.

  Couldn't she see the guy for what he was? Derek Devlin was a crude bastard. He didn't care about Nora, she was little more than a groupie to him. And how he'd convinced her otherwise was beyond Alan's comprehension. She deserved better.

  Like him? But Alan probably seemed no better in Nora's eyes. He'd spent the last three years sleeping with every female in sight, and she knew it. How could he blame her for not taking him serious?

  He'd told her he loved her; either she didn't believe him or didn't care.

  Now what?

  "Your buddy Alan, here, is off dreaming.” Derek slapped a hand on Nora's knee as he laughed. “He ain't heard a word I said."

  "Sorry, I guess I'm distracted.” At Alan's glance, Nora's face heated.

  "I was saying, some agents from Triumph Records are here tonight. They're going to narrow down the competition."

  When Alan looked at him questioningly, Derek exclaimed, “To be in the Battle of the Bands, in St. Louis! They're only gonna pick two."

  "Wanderlust's already in. We were invited last week.” Alan smiled his own superior grin now.

  "Well, it looks like you're the band to beat.” Derek's smile widened. “Could turn out to be you against me, Alan. Wouldn't that be something?"

  Nora looked a little ill at the thought. Derek laid a heavy hand on her shoulder and beamed at Alan.

  "I was telling Nora how important it is for DDR to get that recording deal. If we don't, I'm gonna be spending a lot of time on the road. And I'd rather not, now that I'm finally seeing the beauty of settling down.” Derek cast a fond eye toward Nora.

  Her smile ignited, and Alan's heart melted in hopelessness. He had to look away. More than he lusted for Nora, he wanted to earn a smile like that from her.

  "I've got to set up; we're on in thirty. Nice to see you again, Derek.” Alan tipped his head toward Nora. She didn't meet his eyes.

  "Do you need some help?” she asked.

  "No, just stay put and enjoy yourself."

  "I'll see you later?"

  "Something like that.” Alan turned and strode away.

  He swung out the back door, hopped three steps, and hit the macadam at a jog. Maybe if he just ran as fast as he could and never stopped, he could ease the pain that was settling in his heart. Alan reached the van, pulled his keys, and was greeted by arms that slithered around his waist from behind.

  "Nora?” He turned to face a tall girl he didn't know.

  "Shelly,” she corrected. “I've been wanting to meet you for a while now. I've been to all your concerts."

  Not this. Not now. Alan retreated until the van pressed his back. She closed the distance and insinuated herself against his favorite spot. Mindless in its desire, he felt a twinge of heat rise from his groin. Her fingernails raked his shirt before he caught her by the wrists.

  "Shelly? I appreciate your interest, but you seem to have the wrong idea here."

  Rubbing her thigh against his spawning erection, she pointedly noted, “I don't think that I do."

  "That's not for you,” Alan said, realizing those might be the stupidest words he'd ever spoken.

  She was undeterred. “I just want to borrow it then—would that be all right?"

  Alan eased his hands down her shoulders and began to untangle her arms. “I'm just not interested,” he said. She resisted rather strongly, and he sought a better grip to detach her.

  "Sorry to interrupt,” came the voice he least wanted to hear. “I didn't know if you needed help with the gear. But I see you're doing fine."

  Alan raised his eyes to see Nora glaring at him. The girl hadn't ceased in her quest and paused only to caress his distended zipper. Alan stood petrified.

  "Nora, this isn't what you think!"

  That became the second stupidest thing he'd said that evening.

  "I don't think anything, Alan.” Nora turned on her heel and walked back toward the club.

  "Damn it!” Alan was angry now. The girl dropped her hands in surprise, and Alan tore past her, trying to reach Nora before she got inside. No such luck. The door slammed before he even made the stairs. He braced against the railing and rubbed his hands across his face.

  "Son of a bitch!"

  Shaking his head, Alan headed back to the van. Thankfully, the girl was gone, and he started to unload equipment. Rob soon joined him. They took out the cases in silence.

  "What the hell's wrong with me, anyway?” Alan asked. A non-question. A statement of cosmic disorder made verbal. He didn't expect an answer and didn't get one. Rob gave him a slap on the shoulder.

  "It's safe to go back inside, anyway,” he said. “Nora and her beau just left."

  "Motherfucker.” Alan groaned, and hauled up an armload of cords. How could circumstances conspire so evilly against a man? Payback. This was what he got for his promiscuity.

  And what was Derek going to get?

  "Motherfucker,” he whispered again as he followed Rob inside. Four more trips and they were ready to rock. Alan plugged the last cord in when the bartender gave the sign.

  Showtime. Fuck.

  Alan started to play. It was a well-established routine, their regular set, he could play it on autopilot. And he did. He scanned the dozens of females and realized he was no longer looking for the groupie of the evening; he was watching for Nora to return. She would realize the mistake and come back. But she didn't.

  During the break, Alan walked the club and parking lot hoping to spot Nora and explain the misunderstanding. There was no sign of her. Of them. Alan knew Derek had to turn up sooner or later. DDR was scheduled to play right after Wanderlust, just over an hour from now. But would Nora be with him?

  Back on stage, misery increased when Derek walked through the door with Nora draped on him like an overcoat. Alan threw a chord; Rob didn't bother to correct him. It was amazing he managed to get through the set; he didn't remember his fingers touching the strings.

  At the final encore, above the heads and hands and screaming voices of the clubbies, Alan could just glimpse Derek break from an impassioned kiss. Nora leaned forward and took a small, extra peck before releasing him.

  Alan's heart lurched, capsized. The last note resounded. He nodded to the fans, thanked them and waved. He bumped shoulders with Derek on the way off stage, but didn't acknowledge it. While the rest of the band gathered gear, Alan made straight for Nora.

  Her eyes were dull and disinterested when he pulled a stool beside her. “I don't want to talk about tonight, Alan, not any part of it. All I want to do is enjoy the music."

  Alan could only sit and watch along with her, hating every moment Derek Devlin held the stage. Worse yet, he was a mesmerizing performer. His gravelly, masterful voice spun a web of dark magic through the usually boisterous crowd.

  Groupies who normally giggled in perpetual giddiness suddenly sported the come-hither stare of serious enchantresses. The smoke-laden air seemed transformed by Devlin's mystery; the audience was captivated by his scorching sexuality.

  Derek's eyes burned hot, he handled his instruments roughly, and his songs spilled out in short dramatic bursts. His road show of rugged lovemaking was right up on the stage for all to see. At least that's what Alan thought. Evidently, Nora liked what she saw.

  It came as no surprise when a diminutive bald man, identifying himself as a press agent for Triumph Records, came on stage and announced that DDR had been selected to play opposite Wanderlust in the Battle of the Bands, scheduled for the upcoming Saturday night.

  Alan slid his untouched beer on the bar and got up to leave. Nora's expression didn't betray her thoughts. “I'm tired; I'm heading home."

  Nora finally spoke, but they were far from the words he expected.

  "I've been studying up and I'd like to try another blowjob, to see if I can d
o it right this time—unless you're too tapped out."

  Alan tilted his head in disbelief. Something was going on in Nora's feline brain that he couldn't hope to follow. Should he try to clarify the situation, or should he just keep his mouth shut?

  "Unless you spent it all on that brunette."

  His mouth hung open without answer. The girl in the parking lot—was she brunette? Nora smiled sardonically. “Come with me, my friend. We have work to do."

  Alan felt a cold fear creep up his spine. What sort of punishment was this to be? Nora was obviously furious at what she saw. So why did she want him? He let her lead him outside like a puppy.

  She didn't take him far; in fact, she backed Alan up to the same place he'd just escaped from. It had to be by design. Nora wanted him precisely where she'd seen him with that brunette.

  Nora dropped to her knees in front of him. His throat tightened as she unlatched his belt, and unzipped his jeans. Alan felt ashamed of his hardened response; that's what had gotten him into trouble in the first place.

  "Remarkable recovery time,” she murmured. He opened his mouth to correct her but she laid her hand on his dick and rubbed.

  "I'd rather not hear anything except your moans, Alan.” He kept silent. She worked his pants to his ankles, and Alan glanced around to see if anyone was out and about to witness. He wasn't sure he cared.

  "I need room to work,” she explained. Alan shivered as the chill air lifted heat from his body in waves. The breeze made him tense, Nora's mouth made him rigid as she slid her tongue up his cock. Her fingers curled beneath his balls with gentle, curious strokes.

  His back arched forward, seeking her lips. She rubbed her cheek on his shaft, closing her eyes against the silky steel. Dreamily, her mouth slid down to his balls. With the flat of her tongue she licked, as his nails scored the enamel of the frame. She took each in her mouth gingerly, her tongue tracing patterns that made him dizzy.

  She moaned in pleasure. His voice constricted, afraid to break the spell. Nora spent long minutes lapping and suckling his straining sacs. That was something he hadn't shown her. Alan's mind clouded with suspicion, but his body pitched in pleasure.

  She broke free a moment, her lips blazing scarlet in the neon of the tavern sign.

  "Come down to me, Alan.” He was too tall for her to reach. He dropped to his knees, and she bent slightly and took him in her mouth. But she didn't try to take all of him this time. She focused on the engorged crown; strumming her tongue over the ridge in a light, steady rhythm. His hands held her head softly, then with urgency.

  "Nora,” he gasped. “I can't take much of that."

  Her hand slid down his cock and slicked up fast again. The jolt rattled through his body like a heaving freight train. The edge of her lips curved in a smile as she pulled him into the sweltering heat of her mouth. She sucked with exquisite force, catching his crown with the blunt of her teeth in the upswing, rasping the length in the down sweep, for the most exquisite pleasure-pain he'd ever experienced.

  His head swam; he bowed over Nora's shoulders and gripped her waist tight. He wanted this nirvana to last, but didn't dare ask her to slow down. He was too afraid she might quit if he spoke.

  He knew it was over for him; his scrotum compressed, his cock hammered in rabid anticipation. Just when his mind surrendered to the inevitable, Nora reached underneath, grasped his balls expertly and pulled down.

  The train derailed, confusion reigned, and his orgasm came to a screeching halt.

  She whispered, “I'm not through with you yet, my love.” The words weren't said with as much affection as Alan would have wished. Her tongue dipped into his gaping slit, breathing softly as she explored the inner softness.

  Alan was a jangle of raw nerves, twitching and jumping at her every touch. His body might implode at any moment. Sweat rolled from his forehead to stain the back of her dark shirt. He bit down along the edge of her spine; she cursed but didn't let go.

  "Now I'll push you over the same way you did me,” she whispered.

  Alan's mind was a blur; he didn't understand her words and didn't care. His passion soared as she released his balls, his cock ready to begin its drive toward completion. Nora's hands swept the hard curves of his ass. Moving, caressing, probing between.

  "What are you—” The words almost made it out before Nora pushed a finger in. Straight in. Alan stiffened in shock. She was gentle, but determined. Twisting slowly, she probed until she found her mark and began to rub the sensitive knot. Alan felt his knees buckle, his spine collapse, but his cock raged harder and stronger than ever. Superheated liquid now suffused his movements. Everything was on fire. Alan was enveloped with an unexpected, phenomenal passion. He never knew the possibility existed, but Nora seemed to.

  She watched his response as carefully as he had watched her the night before. His lust escalated, he arched against her hand, urging her farther. Her delicate finger was just enough to set his body reeling, her thrusting invasion inflamed and enchanted.

  "Deeper,” he gasped, never imagining those words could come from him. Nora obliged, taking his cock in her mouth at the same time she wriggled her finger within. Front and back she stroked in tandem, until Alan's climax burst in a sudden and ragged convulsion.

  He braced her shoulders as he pulsed into her, his orgasm ferocious, as if he hadn't come in weeks. The need to fill her was overwhelming; he wanted Nora drenched in his sperm, wallowing in it.

  Her mouth eagerly took him until his strength siphoned and his mind dimmed. Only sensation remained; the sheer, base pleasure of his cock being milked dry. With his soul wrung from his body, Alan drifted in a cloud of bliss. He spoke words, maybe; he didn't know.

  Nora kept her pressure firm until he relaxed against her. She moved from him with a soft kiss. Her departure left an unpleasant emptiness; Alan reached, but she was already standing. He wound his arms around her legs and buried his face in her knees.

  A noise came from the direction of the van; it was Rob, bringing back some equipment, and taking in the spectacle of a bare-assed Alan on his knees before Nora. Alan didn't have the energy to groan a response. Nora said nothing.

  "Be good to him, Nora.” He heard Rob say, then an amused chuckle and crunch of pavement as he departed.

  "I will,” she said, too soft for Rob to hear. Alan struggled to his feet, and Nora helped with his jeans. In a few moments, he was this side of presentable, and Nora held his arm as they walked across the lot.

  "Let's go home,” Alan said. He thought she would demur because Derek was playing, but she surprised him by agreeing and led him to her car.

  "I'll drive; you can nap,” she said.

  "Did you do it, Nora—I mean with Derek?"

  She didn't pretend not to understand what he was asking. “No. I have a little more decency than you."

  Alan couldn't argue that. He slumped in the front seat and slept.

  Chapter 9

  He woke with a start. Fumbling for the light on his nightstand, Alan was not happy to see it was only half past two. He was even less happy that he was in his own bed, alone. Nora had dropped him off at his house after refusing to let him sleep over.

  Listening intently, he heard the sounds of a car crunching to a halt on the spongy gravel road. He switched off his light and tracked to the living room to see who could be up and about at this hour. Noise came now from the direction of Nora's house.

  Probably one of her girlfriends—one or another often stopped by after an unsuccessful date to unload a heart-full of boyfriend problems. But Alan didn't recognize the van as belonging to anyone Nora knew. The driver's door swung open to the sound of deafening music and garbled voices. It slammed to complete silence, while a lone figure ascended Nora's porch and knocked loudly.

  Alan was straining to see when Nora's outside light flicked on. Her door teetered open and Derek Devlin stepped inside. Alan froze at the window. His mind flew in a hundred directions at once. Was that why Nora had insisted he stay home tonight
, he wondered? Or had Derek just dropped by to surprise her?

  Surprise her with what?

  Alan didn't bother to tie his sneakers as he bounded out front and headed across the yard. He hadn't gone far before Nora's porch light went out, leaving him to advance under cover of darkness. All the better, he thought, as he snuck past her side window and mounted the stairs. The curtains were drawn, but the small transom above the door was open. On his toes, Alan was tall enough to peek in.

  No Nora and no Derek. If they weren't in the living room, then where? Alan didn't like the direction his thoughts were taking. Nora had given her word she wouldn't sleep with Derek, and Alan didn't want to believe she'd break that promise. A horn sounded from the van—a long, continuous blare that brought a cursing Derek flying from the direction of the kitchen toward the front door.

  Alan barely had time to step to the dark quarter of the porch before Derek stuck his head out and yelled to the offenders.

  "I told you assholes fifteen minutes! Can't you tell time or what? I'll be out in a few minutes!” He slammed the door hard enough to rattle Nora's cast-iron rose planter clear off its stand.

  Alan righted the flowers and resumed his watch. The two stayed in the living room now, but were too far for Alan to hear what they were talking about. Derek had his arms around Nora and she was smiling. Damn if she wasn't smiling as big as Alan had ever seen her grin.

  Alan wanted to barge in and disrupt the moment, but knew better. Nora would be furious if she caught him spying.

  Derek's finger traced a mark on Nora's neck. Her face panicked as she realized her robe didn't hide the hickey Alan had accidentally bestowed on her the night before. Derek threw back his head and laughed. Nora looked confused. Derek's hand slid between her thighs and he pulled her against him for a deep, invasive kiss.

  For that little show, Alan had a distressing ringside view. And he found it impossible to tear his eyes away from the spectacle of Derek fondling the woman he loved—whom he had just made love to that morning, in fact. Every fiber of his being wanted this to not be happening.