Page 33 of Dirty Rock

Iheard it.

Julia would have heard it, too.

My mind had been filled with flashbacks of things that didn’t make sense. The night before with her. Knowing she was on a flight back to London, upset. The look on her face when I’d warned her that, next time, I’d fill her completely, not giving her a chance to back out.

Had I acted like a big enough dick to drive her away? Had I upset someone who I actually… respected?

“Well done, Rhett,” Tess sang, dropping her hand to my shoulder and squeezing it. “You did it. You blew the roof off. Best performance ever.”

“Fuck off, Tess,” I grumbled back, stomping past all of them as I headed straight for the woman wearing a white shirt and black tie, holding a tray of champagne. I grabbed a glass, threw the contents down my neck, and then I did the same with two more.

When I turned back around, the other four band members and Tessa were looking at me.

Hawk stepped forward. “You okay, dude?”

“Peachy.”

“You sure?”

“Said so, didn’t I?”

“But—”

“Look, don’t start with me. Not tonight.” I glanced around the backstage area filled with people I’d spent a hell of a lot of fucking time with. People I admired. People I’d have given anything to work with only years ago.

All I could see was the one person whowasn’tthere.

The one person I wanted to see how I’d done out there on the stage.

She was on her way to London.

She wasn’t where she was meant to be.Here… with us.

"Just... let me get fucked up a little bit, yeah? There's a cute redhead in the crowd. Let me get security to bring her backstage, and let me revel in what we've just done."

“Made our dreams come true?” Big D smirked.

“Dreams.” I nodded. “Yeah.” Reaching back for another glass, I held it in the air. “Here’s to the fucking dream, boys. Isn’t it everything we thought it would be?”

* * *

Slipknot’sDead Memoriesfilled the dressing room as I waited, slumped down on the black leather sofa. Sweat still trickled down my back from the performance. If I’d been a gentleman, I would have showered, but I wasn’t that guy, and the women who came backstage wanted to taste the salt on my skin as much as they wanted to feel me inside them.

My eyes were trained on the door as I kept the bottle of beer pressed to my lips, too lethargic to keep lifting it up and down. What a sorry little black prince I’d somehow become.

There was a knock at the door, which soon opened to reveal a security guy dressed in black. He offered me a nod of acknowledgement just before a long, bare-legged beauty appeared behind him and sauntered into the room. She wore tight, black shorts that barely covered her perky arse cheeks, and her midriff was on show thanks to the way she’d tied a knot in her Youth Gone Wild T-shirt and tucked it under her boobs.

What a treat.

With a raise of my chin, I dismissed the security guy, and Little Miss Redhead and I were left alone. When she came to a stop, she let one leg drift out to the side like she was posing at the end of a runway. Her hands hung limp by her side, commanding my attention.

This one had nothing to hide. Those were always better than the mousy girls who wasted time by pretending they had morals.

I didn’t take my eyes off her, and I didn’t offer a welcome speech. I wanted to see how long it would take for me to break her with my stare. I also wanted to wait to feel something inside myself. Something like excitement or curiosity, but my mind was a clusterfuck, and it was affecting everything within.

Especially the guy down south.

Red looked around the room, and she ran her fleshy pink tongue over her plump bottom lip.

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