Bedding the Band

Chapter Two: Backstage

OLIVIA

Walker's question is the easiest thing in the world to answer.

"I'd be an idiot to say no." I grab Megan's arm and drag her over. "We'd love to."

Walker's deep chuckle warms me all the way to my toes.

He motions for us to walk alongside him, and I make sure I stick close enough that his arm brushes mine with every step.

The band's music reaches a crescendo and crashes in a rapid slam of cymbals that's Kai's signature signoff.

My throat tightens. Even after all these years, that sound has a visceral effect on me.

"You've seen the boring stuff." Walker tips his head to the side and opens a black door. "But this is the good shit."

Peeking past him, I take note of the room in a glance. A bar lines one wall, while the rest of the room is stuffed full of couches and chairs in varying sizes and shapes. The only constant is the varying shades of black and brown.

"Let me guess." I tap a finger to my lip and pretend to think. "This is where the afterparty happens."

Walker flashes a devastating smile. "You got it, princess." He looks between me and Megan. "Think you might stick around for it?"

There's that sweet, building heat. If he can trigger that with a smile, what would happen if we touched? Kissed?

I know better than to say that out loud, so I shrug one shoulder and fiddle with my badge while trying desperately to keep a modicum of decency in my head. "Depends on what it's worth to me."

Ah, shit. That's a loaded sentence if I ever heard one.

"Oh, I can make it worth your while." The look he gives me threatens to set my panties on fire.

Heat licks up my body, and it's all I can do to keep still. What is going on with me?

Megan's giggle pops the moment, and I step back from the intoxicating menagerie of images running through my mind.

"I know what you want." Walker snaps his fingers and marches down the hallway. His swaggering stride makes his ass tighten.

Oh god. I can't stop looking now. It would be criminal to miss that view.

The crowd continues to roar for an encore and I hear Soren start up a slow strumming on his bass. The sound settles in my bones like it belongs there, along with Walker's words.

He glances back as he pauses at another door. It's plain like all the others, the black paint cracked and peeling at the edges. His big hand grips the knob and turns. "This is where they'll come first."

The innuendo builds an even deeper tension in my already aroused body.

I know where we are even before the door swings open to reveal the dressing rooms. A dim light peeks out from dark paint, and when I try to look inside, Walker raises his arm and props his elbow on the open door frame.

His body fills the space, and I'm torn between soaking in his delicious frame and exploring the room my heroes change in. When he flexes, I bite back a mewl.

He's going to make me squeeze past him if I want to get inside.

Brush up against that hard body? Yes, please!

Ezra's voice cuts the air as he sings the final chorus. Desperate cheering thunders beyond the stage, fueling each fan into a frenzy.

I shudder with a rush of exhilaration and wish I was still out there watching, but there's no way I'd ever forgive myself for missing out on this.