Olivia Cunning - Try Me

Melanie did enjoy watching Shade and the other band members interact with the crowd and each other. The bassist was surprisingly popular with the audience; Melanie found most bass players to be obscure by default. This one had a softer look than the two guitarists— handsome, even features, a normal haircut sans black dye, a perpetual smile, and gentle eyes. Had he not decorated his every inch of his hard-muscled arms with tattoos and bore piercings in his eyebrow and lip, Melanie might not have crossed the street if he’d approached her in public. Why did these men insist on destroying their looks with permanent accessories? It was a damn shame.

The lead guitarist, who had an inordinate fondness for black, was big on chains and trying to upstage the vocalist. They competed for the crowd’s affection with an active rivalry. The rhythm guitarist, who had a gorgeous mane of long, straight hair and no shirt—much to the delight of any female who didn’t mind a fully inked torso—mocked the competing stage hogs behind their backs. The bassist found his antics so hilarious that he had to pause a few times to catch his breath from laughing so hard. Melanie doubted she would’ve noticed the nuances of their dynamic from stadium seats, so at least she had something interesting to watch as she tried to convince the guy behind her that her ass was off limits and not designed as a pincushion for his boner.

Near the end of the final song of their set list—the same set list they’d played the night before—the lead singer hopped off the stage and walked the narrow path on the other side of the barrier fence, slapping hands with fans in the front row as he passed them. Nikki used Melanie for leverage so she could stretch her body into Shade’s path. She got a hand on his skintight T-shirt, but was unable to keep her hold as he blazed past. He returned to the stage just as the song ended on a long, wailing guitar note.

“I touched him,” Nikki squealed excitedly and covered her mouth with her rock-god-blessed hand.

“Congratulations,” Melanie said.

“God, I want him.”

“What about the rest of the band? They’re all totally your type.”

“They’re my backup plan, but Shade is the one I really want.” Nikki’s eyes rolled upward, and Melanie suspected she was in the throes of an orgasm. Melanie took a deep breath and shook her head at her friend. What was the appeal?

When the band pretended their set was over and the crowd began to chant for an encore, Nikki started tugging Melanie toward the side of the stage. Melanie accidentally stomped more than one toe in the darkness. She spouted a litany of sorries as she was given no choice but to follow her determined friend, who had an iron grip on her wrist. The crowd was bathed in darkness to excite them for the final song as well as let them know the show wasn’t actually over: Sole Regret’s biggest hit was yet to come. Even Melanie had noticed they hadn’t played “Instigator” and they’d blown the roof off the stadium with their high-energy rock anthem the night before.

Melanie had no idea how Nikki managed to see well enough to slip past security, but they were suddenly free from the crowd and standing next to the stage. They were so going to get caught. Melanie clung to Nikki’s hand, hoping they didn’t get chewed out too severely when one of the distracted security guards noticed them. In the darkness, Nikki managed to find the cute roadie she'd been talking to the night before. Melanie wondered if Nikki was wearing night vision goggles. Her own eyes were still trying to adjust to the lack of illumination after she’d stared up at bright stage lights for almost an hour.

"This is her," Nikki said. She tugged Melanie against her and kissed her on the mouth with heated, seeking lips. It wasn’t one of those you're my bestie and I've had a too much to drink, so I'm feeling affectionate kisses. It was more a we go down on each other, wanna watch kind of kiss. Melanie was too shocked to do anything but breathe. And even that was a struggle.

What the fuck? Was this the ruse Nikki had mentioned?

“Oh yeah,” the cute roadie said when Nikki ended her plundering assault on Melanie’s lips. “That’s totally hot, tater tot.” He reached into the front pocket of his mega-baggie jeans and pulled out a backstage pass on a lanyard. He draped it around Nikki’s neck. “I only have one left.”

“But what about my friend?” Nikki directed her morose-puppy look in his direction. The guy didn’t stand a chance.

“Show Tony what you just showed me, and he’ll let you both backstage. Trust me.”

The stage lights flashed on and the band started their encore with a hard and heavy drum progression. Melanie covered her ears with both hands.

“It’s loud,” she yelled.

Nikki grabbed Melanie’s wrist again and led her behind the stage to where a man stood guarding a door. Nikki flashed her pass at him and he opened the door, but stuck out his arm to bar Melanie’s entry.

“Jack said you’d let us both in,” Nikki said. “He only had one pass for us to share.”

“Why should I believe you?”

Melanie was secretly hoping he refused to let either of them in. What in the world was Nikki thinking? Kissing her on the mouth. Letting that guy think it was natural for them to make out. Just so she could meet some weird lead singer who called himself Shade, of all things.

“Because we want to see Shade,” Nikki said. “Both of us.”

And the next thing Melanie knew, her best friend had her tongue in her mouth and her hand on her ass. Melanie jerked away. She’d been shocked the first time. Now she was just pissed.

“What the fuck, Nikki?”

“She doesn’t like to do it in public,” Nikki explained to the security guard. She cupped Melanie’s breast and gave it a squeeze. The guy groaned and shoved them both into the backstage area and shut the door behind them.

“What is wrong with you?” Melanie slapped Nikki’s hand away from her breast.

“I knew you wouldn’t agree with my plan if I asked.” She shrugged. “Last night, I sorta told that roadie guy that I was into threesomes and I had this hot girlfriend I wanted to share with Shade.”

“You sorta told him that?”

“Yeah, he thought it was sexy and knew Shade would be interested.”

“But I’m not interested, Nikki.”

“Duh. I know that. That’s why it’s a ruse. I didn’t think you’d actually want to sleep with him. Or me.”

Nikki’s bottom lip jutted forward, and she gave Melanie her please forgive me, bestest best bestie look, her I can’t help but be impulsive look, followed by her you know you love me look. The bitch. She knew Melanie would forgive her because Melanie did love her and worried about her impulsiveness getting her into big trouble someday.

“I can’t believe you’d use me just to meet some rock star, Nikki. I’m not sure why I’m friends with you. All you do is cause me grief.”

“But I’m a good kisser, right?” Nikki winked at her and laughed. “I never realized what great tits you have, Mel.” Nikki lifted both perfectly manicured hands and made squeezing motions in front of Melanie’s boobs. “Can I suck on them?”

Melanie crossed her arms over her chest. Nikki was always making stupid remarks like that. Good thing Melanie didn’t take her seriously.

“Don’t be mad.” Nikki dropped her hands and released a heavy sigh. “I got us backstage didn’t I?”

“I didn’t even want to come backstage.”

“Sure you did. Let’s go find some alcohol. I’m going to need a little liquid courage to approach Shade.”

“Go by yourself. I’m going to go wait in the car.” Melanie turned to find the nearest exit.

“No, you’re not.” Nikki wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll just end up worried about me in here with a bunch of—what do you call them again?”

“Freakish assholes?”

Nikki laughed. “Among other things. Just do this one thing for me, Mel, and I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

Melanie snorted. “Uh huh. Yeah. Sure.”

“I won’t.” Nikki hooked Melanie’s pinky finger with her own. “Pinky swear.”

Melanie released a frustrated sigh. “Where’s the booze?”

Gabe climbed out from behind his drum kit, both thighs weary with fatigue. He stretched his aching back, wincing as he twisted to one side. Thirty years young and he could safely say he was getting too old for this shit. Jack tossed him a hand towel, and Gabe wiped the sweat off his face.

“Great show, man,” Jack said. He took the towel and offered Gabe a handful of used drumsticks to throw into the audience.

“Thanks.”

Gabe joined his band mates at the front of the stage. He flung a dozen sticks into the crowd, took a bow to the screaming fans, and made a beeline for the dressing room. He needed a beer, a nap, and a shower, not necessarily in that order.

“Don’t forget we have an after-party tonight,” Owen said as he handed off his bass guitar to one roadie while another disconnected his wireless transmitter.

Gabe had forgotten about the after-party. That meant the first thing on his agenda had to be a shower. No one wanted to smell him after he’d been swimming in his own sweat for an hour. And maybe if a hot piece of ass caught his attention at the party, he’d add get laid to his list of priorities.

“See you there,” Gabe said and headed for the dressing room to shower.

The steamy water felt like heaven against his weary flesh. He considered blowing the party and just hanging out in the shower by himself for the entire night. His bunk on the tour bus sang a siren’s song to his exhausted body. Gabe was proud to be known as one of rock’s fastest drummers, but his signature aggressive style wore his ass out at every live performance. Still, he knew the guys would give him hell if he didn’t make an appearance at the party, so he’d show his face for five minutes, have a beer, and then catch that nap. Alone. He was much too exhausted to chase pussy tonight.