Page 3 of Don't Fall For A Rockstar

Exactly. This was just what I needed.

“To New Orleans, and our best fucking show ever!” Brodie yelled out.

Other people around me cheered and shouted, but I wasn’t paying attention.

Without saying a word, I passed one of my shots to Nate, our fingers brushing, electricity shooting down my arm. I downed my drink, placed the empty glass on the bar top, and headed for the dance floor.

I hoped like hell that Nate would follow.

CHAPTER 2

NATE

Three years ago, I was singing in dive bars, and busking on Bourbon Street. Tonight, with my band brothers, I opened a concert for Wayward Lane, one of the hottest rock bands in the world.

To say I was excited as fuck was an understatement.

Me and my friends had busted our asses, and we’d finally arrived. And partying in my hometown after a show was almost as fun as being on stage. Now all I needed was a hot man to end the night right.

One particular man, that is.

Just before the start of the show, my mic failed. Thankfully, Wayward Lane’s lead roadie, Tommy, appeared to help me. My eyes hadn’t been able to look anywhere else. In threadbare jeans and a tight T-shirt, Tommy had intricate tattoos decorating his neck and arms. Not that he needed decoration because fuck, his body was a work of art. No wonder, given all the physical work he did. The man moved around the stage with a speed and grace that was its own kind of music. Brodie had said something snarky about the power going out, and Tommy let out a loud laugh, the husky sound echoing above the din. I liked that too.And when Tommy grinned, showcasing two irresistible dimples, I was suddenly dying to taste them.

So, when I spotted the sexy roadie entering the club a few minutes ago, I didn’t waste a second.

And the closer I got to the hot as hell man, the harder it was for me to breathe.

When I finally stood behind him, I could barely speak, a strange lump in my throat. But when he turned around, the hungry look in his dark eyes told me I wasn’t the only one feeling needy and reckless.

Thank fuck.

He downed his shot and watching him swallow was such a turn-on. And I liked that he hadn’t shaved. I was a fan of rough scruff. It always heightened my pleasure.

Without saying a word, he put his empty glass down and headed for the center of the room, the packed dance floor. I downed my shot, and wasted no time following him, his cocky swagger and tight ass teasing me.

We got to the center of the room, surrounded by sweaty, writhing bodies. He turned to me, and the electric pulse that flashed between us burned hotter. I slid one finger in his belt loop and tugged him close, and the wicked grin on his face told me everything I needed to know.

And fucking hell, those dimples of his were sinful. Did he have a matching set on his ass?

I couldn’t wait to find out.

I hardly noticed the people around us or the booming music. Tommy gripped my neck hard and pulled me in tight, our foreheads bumping. We shared the same breath—tequila, sweet and spicy. I slid both hands around his waist, then lower, feeling his taut muscles quiver, until I reached the swells of his ass. We grinded up against each other, his hard cock brushing mine. Running my nose along his stubbled jaw, I took a long inhale,loving the fact that he didn’t wear cologne. I gave his skin an experimental lick and moaned loudly as his heady taste hit my tongue. Then I buried my face in the crook of his neck, frustrated by far too many clothes between us.

“My hotel,” Tommy groaned, his breath teasing my ear.

“Yes.”

When he reached for my hand and tugged, his calloused grip on mine, I nearly moaned out loud. There was something about the way he took charge that had my lust sparking like wildfire. And after a marathon music set, the pressure of our first major gig, I was ready for a hard dicking down.

We got as far as the exit and then I remembered Otis, Heath, and Xander, my bandmates. We never left each other when we were out at night without checking in.

“Hold on.” I squeezed Tommy’s hand and reluctantly let it go.

Then I reached into my pocket for my phone.

“It’s okay if you changed?—”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I explained. “I’m just letting my bandmates know I’m out for the night.”

---