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“Are you just wearing pantyhose?”

My brain short circuited. “Yes,” I hissed. “Fuck. This is?—”

He stepped closer and dipped down, his lips brushing my ear. “I’m proud of you for doing as I asked.”

Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump.My heart beat thrummed through every part of my body, including my pussy.

“You’re going to watch me play and then when I’m finished, I’m going to come backstage and fuck you until you’re singing my name.”

“Salt,” I hissed, giving him a light shove. I turned around, spotting Dale scrutinizing us as he approached. He wasn’t the only one.“There are people here.Behave.”

Salt smiled as if nothing had happened. “Thanks, Dale.”

“Sure,” he muttered. “You know your way around a stage, I’m assuming?”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at him. But, to be fair, it had been awhile since I was backstage. “Of course. Who else is playing tonight?”

“An indie rock band out of Chicago,” Salt said. “They’re good.”

One of the techs on stage yelled for Dale and he grumbled as he walked away. I crossed my arms over my chest, taking it all in.

“How many songs are you playing?” I asked.

“Six,” he said. “Nothing too big. The guys are almost set up. Eric and Tyler have to go as soon as we finish, and Jack will go off on his own and enjoy the rest of the night.”

“So…”

He smiled. “So what I’m saying is you’ll have me alone once we finish performing.”

“Have you thought about adding another guitarist?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “But I don’t know if I want to.”

I frowned, glancing up at him. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed.

“It seems you’re reluctant to all of this. Why? And don’t tell me it’s your artist ego.”

The corner of his mouth tugged. “You go into CEO mode so quickly. Don’t worry about my music, Pepper, it’s not yours. Yet.”

Yet.I gave him a dirty look and stepped away before he could touch me, the back of my neck prickling beneath Salt’s gaze. His very presence felt like a brand on my soul, and I couldn’t help but feel as though he were staking his claim. I glanced up at the bass player who watched us, but he looked away quickly.

“Show me how to get backstage,” I said.

The house lights in the venue went out, replaced by the swamp green stage lights they’d chosen. I didn’t love the green—in fact, I hated it—but didn’t have time to stew about it as Salt gripped my elbow gently and steered me towards a door. We went down a short dark hall, and into a room buzzing with people and equipment.

I jerked my elbow out of his grip before anyone stared at us. A young woman sat on an amp while talking to a couple of guys. She had bright purple hair that was pulled into a french braid, golden brown skin, and wore a black leather bustier with matching leather pants and boots. Absolutely gorgeous, with that magnetism I could spot by now. She was definitely a performer who drew crowds. The two guys talking to her gave her a nod and went on their way, taking whatever directions she’d given them to heart.

No one had to tell me she was the lead singer—it was beyond clear.

“Look who it is,” she called, grinning at Salt. Her eyes darted to me and she offered a genuine smile too, but remained seated.

I liked her.

Salt chuckled and led me over to her. “Hey, Tara. This is Pepper.”

Her eyes lit up and she beamed at me, charisma oozing off her in waves. I felt myself relax—this was one of my favorite parts of my job.

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