When it came time for the band’s encore, Aggie climbed off his lap and offered him a hand. He looked at her and found her cheeks wet with tears. His heart stumbled over several beats.

He climbed to his feet and took her shoulder in his free hand. “Aggie. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, closed her eyes, and swallowed. “I’m glad.” She hugged him unexpectedly, rubbing her tear-damp face against his neck.

“I’m glad,” she whispered.

A roadie, Jake, poked Jace in the back. “You’d better get ready to go onstage.”

Jace released Aggie, and his favorite, solid black bass was pushed into his good hand. He settled the familiar strap around his shoulder, wincing slightly when the full weight of the instrument settled over his trapezius muscle and collarbone. Maybe he had overestimated his ability to play. He slid his arm out of its sling and tested the mobility of his fingers. A bit stiff, but he could play. He was sure.

The crowd was chanting. “Sinners, Sinners, Sinners.” The arena’s overhead lights were still off, so even though the stage was dark and empty, they knew the show wasn’t over.

“Break a leg,” Jon growled into Jace’s ear as he handed him his earpiece. “Or better yet, your fucking neck.”

With no time to tell Jon to fuck off, Jace stuck the earpiece in his ear so he could hear the music and directions given by Dave. He then trotted after Brian and Trey onto the stage. There was a soft glow of blue lights at the level of their feet, and when their shadows crossed the stage, the crowd cheered. Jace’s heart rate kicked up a few notches. He really hoped he didn’t screw up.

Eric tapped a cymbal, starting the intro to “Twisted,” and Jace entered with his bass progression. There was stiffness in his knuckles, and the pain in his right shoulder was agonizingly sharp as he strummed, but the thick strings between his fingertips and the solid fret board were comforting. He’d missed this. Standing next to the drums, he closed his eyes and let the rhythm carry him, head-banging in time with Eric’s bass drum.

Sed entered the song with a long note on his violin. The lights flashed so bright Jace could see them through his closed eyelids. A heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders and urged him forward. Sed apparently didn’t want him hiding by the drum kit this evening. Jace hoped he didn’t expect him to writhe around on the floor the way Jon did. Sed grinned between lyrics and gave him a little wink. He nodded toward the crowd.

Yeah, Jace got it. He should play this up. Make his brief stage appearance special for the fans. He wandered out of Sed’s hold toward the front of the stage. He drew to a halt at its edge and leaned forward to play the steady bass riff at shin level. He head-banged while he played, adrenaline flowing through his body, his shoulder protesting each movement of his fingers. Brian moved to stand beside him, placing one foot on a speaker at the front of the stage while he played the insanely fast guitar riff. Jace stood upright and leaned against the guitarist. Brian beamed and pressed his arm firmly against Jace’s shoulder. Sed paced the front of the stage now, lifting his hand up and down to get the crowd to participate, and thrusting the microphone toward the audience during the chorus so they’d sing along. They especially loved to sing the part that went, “Twisted, crazy hell-born bitch.” Probably because that was the only part they could easily understand. Sed screamed the rest of the chorus in his signature baritone growl, which was fucking awesome.

Trey moved to Brian’s other side during his guitar solo. Jace had to concentrate on the sound of Eric’s drums to continue his low, repetitive bass riff. It was admittedly hard to maintain with Brian wailing away beside him. The man was fucking gifted on that guitar. Jace wanted to stand there and gawk at him in awe. The fans screamed their appreciation of Brian’s skill when he lifted his guitar over his head to carry the final note of his solo.

Jace wasn’t sure what possessed him to add a mini bass solo of his own right before the final chorus. Trey and Brian glanced at him in surprise. The crowd cheered unexpectedly. Jace felt the heat of embarrassment rise up his neck and face until his ears were burning. He returned to the repetitive bass riff that carried the undertones of the entire song. Sed punched him in his good shoulder affectionately.

When the song ended, the crowd cheered. Sed got carried away and lifted Jace off the floor with one heavily muscled arm. “Jace Seymour, ladies and gentlemen.”

And they cheered. “Jace, Jace, Jace.”

For him.

Jace smiled until his cheeks hurt. He couldn’t help himself. Sed set him on his feet. Jace moved to the front of the stage and tossed his pick into the audience. The crowd sank in a circle in search of the prize. Jace lifted his bass off his shoulder and carried it offstage with his good arm. He was actually looking forward to getting his right arm back in its sling. As much as he hated the damned thing, it did take the weight off his shoulder and made it feel a thousand times better.

“Man, that was fuckin’ awesome,” Trey said. “When did you write that bass solo? And why have you been holding out on us?”

Jace hadn’t exactly written that solo. It had come to him spontaneously onstage. Before he could explain that to Trey, a curvy, warm body pressed against him.

“My God, baby, that was amazing,” Aggie said. She captured his face between her hands and kissed him passionately.

Someone took his bass out of his hand, and Jace wrapped his arms around her—both arms. He returned her kiss, his lips sucking on hers gently. Someone squeezed his shoulder, and he drew away from Aggie to find Eric grinning at him.

“Great show, man.”

Jace found himself smiling again. “Thanks. You too.”

Sed hugged Aggie and Jace in one giant embrace. “The crowd loved that. You have to play the encore every night until you’re better, dude. And hurry up and get better, will you? The show isn’t the same without you.”

Did he really mean that?

Jace glanced around. “Where’s Jon?”

“He stalked off sulking right after you started playing,” Aggie said. “Jealous of your superior skill, I’m sure.” She kissed him again. “God, I want you. You’re so sexy when you play onstage.” She released a breathless gasp as she gazed at him.

“I am?”

“Oh yeah.” She offered him her come-hither smile. Was his sudden urge to shove hundred-dollar bills down her shirt wrong? Probably.

Sed released the pair. “Take it easy there, stud. You need to concentrate on healing.”

Aggie’s hand cupped his crotch over his jeans. His cock stirred against her palm. “How about some sexual healing?”

“I’m game.”

He eased his arm back into its sling and let her lead him down the steps by his belt buckle.

* * *

Jace had kept Aggie suspended at the brink of orgasm for a good thirty minutes now. She was moaning and writhing in tormented bliss, but she hadn’t asked him to stop once. His cock was so hard, his balls so full, he almost wanted her to beg so he could fuck her already, but until she broke, he’d continue to pleasure her. He pulled the clothespin from her nipple. The device plucked her nipple hard as it came free.

“Ah,” she gasped.

Her rosy nipple flushed red from overstimulation. Jace lowered his head to soothe the tender bud with his lips. The instant he touched her there, she shuddered, the chains that suspended her arms above her head rattling with her jerky motions. While he kissed her nipple with the slightest suction he could manage, he lowered the clothespin, careful not to touch her sweat-slick thighs and alert her to what he was going to do, and clamped it on her clit.

“Oh,” she moaned, her hips undulating in torment.

He flicked the clothespin, which tugged on her clit.

“Jace!”

Come on, baby, beg for it.

But she didn’t. She took deep shaky breaths, trying to curb her excitement as she had been for the past two hours. He kept flicking that damn clothespin and kissing that tender nipple until her excitement built to the pinnacle. As soon as her body shook with the first ripple of release, he pulled the clothespin off her clit and moved away, leaving her there unfulfilled.

Surely now she would beg him. How many times did he have to make her almost come before she couldn’t stand it anymore? She whimpered. Her entire body—slick with sweat and sticky with syrup—trembled.

Jace was running out of ways to excite her. He’d used every object in his suitcase, in every way he’d imagined, yet she still hadn’t submitted to the pleasure. She let him give her more. He stared at her, bound and blindfolded, and wondered how to proceed. He was out of ideas. Jace reached for a wet cloth and rubbed it over her anus. He trickled chocolate syrup over the area and lowered his head to lick it off. He pressed the tip of his tongue inside her.

“Mmmm,” she murmured, spreading her legs farther, so he could press his tongue deeper with less resistance. He sucked and moved his tongue in chaotic circles. Gasping, she wriggled her hips in excitement.

“I like that.”

He slid two fingers into her sopping wet cunt and pleasured her ass until her internal muscles convulsed. He moved away again, watching her writhe with unfulfilled desire, tears dripping from beneath her blindfold, fluids dripping down the inside of her thighs.

He couldn’t stand it anymore. Maybe she could go all night without coming, but he couldn’t. He climbed from the bed and grabbed some oil from the nightstand. He poured it into his hand and rubbed it over his cock. His head fell back, and he gasped brokenly.