Page 56 of I Need You Tonight
“So you’re telling me a blow job is off the table?”
I harrumphed. “Of course it’s off the table.”
Mason threw his head back with a laugh, and I couldn’t help smiling a little at how my words had sounded. Finally I gave in and laughed too.
Mason closed the distance between us, his warm beer breath stroking my face. “More than anything, I want to be buried deep inside you, Nicole. Or have your hot lips around my dick.”
His voice—deep, rough, and bursting with pure male sexiness—went directly to the spot between my legs and turned my panties damp.Damn him.
“But I’ll settle for this instead.” His lips blazed a path along my jaw to my mouth…then those talented lips consumed me. And I let him. I ignored the nagging voice in the back of my head pointing out this was still unprofessional. Nowhere in the contract had it mentioned that my job responsibilities included kissing him to help him deal with pre-show restlessness.
But maybe they could amend the contract.
Pushing everything to the side, I focused on the kiss and nothing else. What I was doing was strictly for the audience’s benefit. They’d paid good money for a great show, and this was my way of making sure the Pushing Limits part of the show was exactly that. And ultimately it would benefit album sales. It was a win-win for everyone.
Yes, keep telling yourself that,a voice in the back of my head said with a sarcastic laugh.
We continued kissing for several minutes, until I became so riled up I came close to dropping my no-sex stance. But before I had a chance to cave, Mason pulled away and rested his forehead against mine. “Thank you,” he murmured, voice still rough. “I needed that.”
“Anytime.”
“We could write it into your job description.”
I smirked. “We could.”
“I should probably go join the guys.”
“You probably should.”
Instead of leaving, though, Mason kissed me once again. But not a heavy, all-consuming kiss this time. It was nothing more than a light brushing of the lips—which made me want him even more.
Then we joined the rest of the band near the stage so they could prepare for the show. I stepped back to give them a chance to do their pre-show ritual without me getting in their way. While they did that, I tweeted and posted on their behalf that they were getting ready to go on. Within seconds, I received responses from people who were disappointed they couldn’t be here…or from people at the show who were excited for it to start. They had come only to see Pushing Limits.
Five minutes later, I knew exactly why they had come to see the band. The guys were onstage, and from where I was standing I had a pretty decent view of them. Well, their backs, at least. But it didn’t matter. Their music and their presence filled the space and had the audience screaming with joy, singing along with the lyrics, dancing. Nolan was amazing up there. I could see why he was the band’s front man, and it wasn’t just because of his good looks. His charisma and talent had the fans hungry for more.
From what I could see, it wasn’t just a few people who felt this way. It was the majority of the arena. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the people who’d responded to my tweets and posts weren’t the only ones who’d come just to see Pushing Limits perform.
They shouldn’t be an opening act. They were bigger than that.
Eventually their set came to an end. Nolan thanked the crowd for coming and the guys walked off the stage, waving to the audience.
I’d been to a few country music concerts, and after the main act left the stage, the audience would go wild, demanding an encore. The opening band, not so much.
But that wasn’t the case with Pushing Limits. Based on the volume of the audience demanding an encore, you’d have thought theywerethe main act.
“Are you guys going back out there?” I asked.
Nolan shook his head, sweat dripping down the sides of his face, his hair dark with wet strands. His T-shirt was also sweat-drenched—the same look the other four men shared. “Our set’s done. The roadies need to finish setting up for Endless Motion.”
“Even though the audience wants more?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jared said. “It’s not our concert. We’re just the opening act.”
My gaze slid to each guy. “Does this happen often?”
“Pretty much at every show,” Mason said, “but there’s nothing we can do about it.” A hopeful smile appeared on his sweaty face. “So, what did you think? Did you enjoy it?”
I returned his smile, partly because I had enjoyed it and partly because of Mason’s expression. He was actually nervous about what I thought. “I loved it. You guys are amazing. It’s no wonder everyone wants an encore.” Heck, never mind what everyone else wanted…Iwanted an encore.
