Chapter Seven
Adam released his hold on Madison’s hair and tugged her body closer, his hand still cupped possessively over her mound. He stroked her drenched lips with two fingers, drawing intermittent shudders from her slight frame. He loved that he could give her such pleasure. Loved that she opened herself to him. Loved her.
He’d never felt this all-encompassing need to possess a woman before. It had to be more than lust. More than affection. More than friendship. More even than gratitude for all she’d done for him. A hell of a lot more than simple infatuation. There was no other word for it. He loved her. Why had he not realized it until he’d been threatened with her leaving him?
“Madison?” he murmured against her sweat-damp neck. His arm squeezed tighter just beneath her ribs.
“Y-yes?”
Did she love him? Could any woman as wonderful and as fundamentally good as Madison Fairbanks give a shit about someone like him?
Adam took a deep breath. “I lo—”
A sharp knock rattled the dressing room door. “Ten minutes,” someone called from the hall outside.
Madison tensed and jerked away. Watching her struggle to pull her panties up her trembling thighs nearly broke his heart. Her inability to meet his eyes. The blush of shame on her beautiful face. After the concert, he’d take her to bed, hold her naked body against his for as long as he liked, take her gently, tell her he loved her. A thousand times. A thousand ways. Tell her. Show her. Love her.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, kissing her bare shoulder as she worked to return her dress to its proper location.
She smiled shyly, and his heart panged. He had it so bad for her.
Her blue eyes flicked up to meet his briefly and her blush deepened. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to watch the concert tonight?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” She kissed his cheek. “Is there a bathroom in here? Or do I have to take the walk of shame?” She took a step to the side and winced. “Hobble of shame?”
“Are you okay?”
“Never better,” she said breathlessly.
He settled a hand on her lower back and directed her to the restroom. She locked herself in one of the two stalls while he disposed of his expended condom and cleaned up in the sink.
Another knock sounded on the dressing room door. “Adam, are you in there?”
“One minute,” he yelled.
“You don’t have a minute.”
“Madison, are you ready?” He hurriedly tucked his recently washed and still damp dick into his pants.
“Go on ahead,” she said. “I’ll catch up.”
He really wanted her on his arm when he’d arrived backstage. Wanted to show her off. This beautiful, wonderful, sexy-as-sin woman is mine. You may look—and seethe with envy—but never touch. Since they’d met, she’d only given herself to one man. Him. And it was going to stay that way. Should knowing she’d been true to him, even though he hadn’t asked it of her, make his chest swell with pride? Maybe not, but it did.
“They won’t start without me,” he said. “I can wait a few minutes.”
“I . . . uh . . . need a bit of privacy.”
He chuckled. How could she still be shy around him about anything her body did?
“Okay, I’ll go, but I want to see you standing in my corner of the stage by the end of the first song.”
“I’ll be there.”
When Adam arrived behind the stage, the entire band was waiting in the wings. Their pointed glares bounced right off him. Adam didn’t give a shit if they were pissed. He was in love.
Jack handed him his silver guitar and attached his wireless transmitter to the back of his belt.
“The show started five minutes ago,” Shade grumbled.
“I don't hear any music.”
“I know your dick means a lot to you, but you need to get your priorities straight.”
“Don't start with me,” Adam warned. Could they get through a single day without arguing? Yeah, he was five minutes late, so what? He'd been concerned for Madison. She had to be hurting. In the future, he'd make sure he carried lube in his pocket whenever her sexy and always eager ass was within reach.
Owen, who started the show, shook his head at both of them. “Are we going to stand here and listen to you two bitch at each other, or should I proceed?”
Adam stuck a sound feed into one ear and an earplug into the other. “What's the hold-up?” the head of their sound crew shouted into his ear.
“Adam was getting laid. Again,” Shade said. “You know what he's like. Two girls a night. Three. Four. He doesn't discriminate if it has a vagina.”
Like he could talk.
“Shut up,” Adam said. He wasn't sure if he deserved his reputation. Especially in recent months. A year ago? Sure. He'd f**ked anything that stood still long enough for him to mount it. But now? He was getting his priorities straight. Or trying to. No one seemed to take notice of his efforts to keep clean and sober or to forge a steady relationship. He wasn't an irresponsible kid anymore. Would he ever live down the mistakes of his past? Madison seemed to be the only one who saw who he was becoming. Everyone else had pegged him long ago and held him down in the hole they’d chosen for him. Was it even possible to dig himself out of that hole at this point?
“Go, Owen,” Hawkeye, their soundboard operator, said into their feed. “The rest of them will figure it out.”
Owen entered the stage, playing his bass solo backed by the hard and heavy beat of Gabe's drumming.
Adam plucked a guitar pick from the tape attached to the neck of his guitar. He scratched his nose with the back of his wrist and was instantly engulfed in Madison's scent. He inhaled her essence deep into his lungs and fought the urged to lick his fingers. How was he supposed to concentrate on the show with the smell of her sweet pu**y all over his left hand?
“So f**king selfish and irresponsible,” Shade muttered under his breath.
Adam stiffened and lowered his hand so he could concentrate on dealing with Shade. “What is your problem?”
“You, Adam,” Shade said. “Let’s review your behavior in the past twenty-four hours alone. Smoking weed backstage before a concert.” He ticked off Adam’s crimes on his fingers. “Taking the limo without telling anyone so the rest of us had to find a cab. Thirty minutes late for sound check. Almost starting a riot in front of the stadium. Too busy f**king some slut to show up for the concert on time.”
Adam released his hold on Madison’s hair and tugged her body closer, his hand still cupped possessively over her mound. He stroked her drenched lips with two fingers, drawing intermittent shudders from her slight frame. He loved that he could give her such pleasure. Loved that she opened herself to him. Loved her.
He’d never felt this all-encompassing need to possess a woman before. It had to be more than lust. More than affection. More than friendship. More even than gratitude for all she’d done for him. A hell of a lot more than simple infatuation. There was no other word for it. He loved her. Why had he not realized it until he’d been threatened with her leaving him?
“Madison?” he murmured against her sweat-damp neck. His arm squeezed tighter just beneath her ribs.
“Y-yes?”
Did she love him? Could any woman as wonderful and as fundamentally good as Madison Fairbanks give a shit about someone like him?
Adam took a deep breath. “I lo—”
A sharp knock rattled the dressing room door. “Ten minutes,” someone called from the hall outside.
Madison tensed and jerked away. Watching her struggle to pull her panties up her trembling thighs nearly broke his heart. Her inability to meet his eyes. The blush of shame on her beautiful face. After the concert, he’d take her to bed, hold her naked body against his for as long as he liked, take her gently, tell her he loved her. A thousand times. A thousand ways. Tell her. Show her. Love her.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, kissing her bare shoulder as she worked to return her dress to its proper location.
She smiled shyly, and his heart panged. He had it so bad for her.
Her blue eyes flicked up to meet his briefly and her blush deepened. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to watch the concert tonight?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.” She kissed his cheek. “Is there a bathroom in here? Or do I have to take the walk of shame?” She took a step to the side and winced. “Hobble of shame?”
“Are you okay?”
“Never better,” she said breathlessly.
He settled a hand on her lower back and directed her to the restroom. She locked herself in one of the two stalls while he disposed of his expended condom and cleaned up in the sink.
Another knock sounded on the dressing room door. “Adam, are you in there?”
“One minute,” he yelled.
“You don’t have a minute.”
“Madison, are you ready?” He hurriedly tucked his recently washed and still damp dick into his pants.
“Go on ahead,” she said. “I’ll catch up.”
He really wanted her on his arm when he’d arrived backstage. Wanted to show her off. This beautiful, wonderful, sexy-as-sin woman is mine. You may look—and seethe with envy—but never touch. Since they’d met, she’d only given herself to one man. Him. And it was going to stay that way. Should knowing she’d been true to him, even though he hadn’t asked it of her, make his chest swell with pride? Maybe not, but it did.
“They won’t start without me,” he said. “I can wait a few minutes.”
“I . . . uh . . . need a bit of privacy.”
He chuckled. How could she still be shy around him about anything her body did?
“Okay, I’ll go, but I want to see you standing in my corner of the stage by the end of the first song.”
“I’ll be there.”
When Adam arrived behind the stage, the entire band was waiting in the wings. Their pointed glares bounced right off him. Adam didn’t give a shit if they were pissed. He was in love.
Jack handed him his silver guitar and attached his wireless transmitter to the back of his belt.
“The show started five minutes ago,” Shade grumbled.
“I don't hear any music.”
“I know your dick means a lot to you, but you need to get your priorities straight.”
“Don't start with me,” Adam warned. Could they get through a single day without arguing? Yeah, he was five minutes late, so what? He'd been concerned for Madison. She had to be hurting. In the future, he'd make sure he carried lube in his pocket whenever her sexy and always eager ass was within reach.
Owen, who started the show, shook his head at both of them. “Are we going to stand here and listen to you two bitch at each other, or should I proceed?”
Adam stuck a sound feed into one ear and an earplug into the other. “What's the hold-up?” the head of their sound crew shouted into his ear.
“Adam was getting laid. Again,” Shade said. “You know what he's like. Two girls a night. Three. Four. He doesn't discriminate if it has a vagina.”
Like he could talk.
“Shut up,” Adam said. He wasn't sure if he deserved his reputation. Especially in recent months. A year ago? Sure. He'd f**ked anything that stood still long enough for him to mount it. But now? He was getting his priorities straight. Or trying to. No one seemed to take notice of his efforts to keep clean and sober or to forge a steady relationship. He wasn't an irresponsible kid anymore. Would he ever live down the mistakes of his past? Madison seemed to be the only one who saw who he was becoming. Everyone else had pegged him long ago and held him down in the hole they’d chosen for him. Was it even possible to dig himself out of that hole at this point?
“Go, Owen,” Hawkeye, their soundboard operator, said into their feed. “The rest of them will figure it out.”
Owen entered the stage, playing his bass solo backed by the hard and heavy beat of Gabe's drumming.
Adam plucked a guitar pick from the tape attached to the neck of his guitar. He scratched his nose with the back of his wrist and was instantly engulfed in Madison's scent. He inhaled her essence deep into his lungs and fought the urged to lick his fingers. How was he supposed to concentrate on the show with the smell of her sweet pu**y all over his left hand?
“So f**king selfish and irresponsible,” Shade muttered under his breath.
Adam stiffened and lowered his hand so he could concentrate on dealing with Shade. “What is your problem?”
“You, Adam,” Shade said. “Let’s review your behavior in the past twenty-four hours alone. Smoking weed backstage before a concert.” He ticked off Adam’s crimes on his fingers. “Taking the limo without telling anyone so the rest of us had to find a cab. Thirty minutes late for sound check. Almost starting a riot in front of the stadium. Too busy f**king some slut to show up for the concert on time.”
