Page 37 of Wicked Truths

“Did I interrupt something just now?” He finally stops a few feet ahead of me.

“I’m anxious. The venue is huge,” I admit, glancing away from his prying stare.

“I get it.” His booted feet approach and my eyes fly up. He tosses an arm around my shoulder. His sweaty scent hits me like a ton of bricks. “It gets me too, but once we’re out there, you’ll get slapped with that adrenaline high. There’s nothing like it.”

My eyes fly up to his, and I nod. He’s right. There’s really not.

“I’m going to slide in and distract them. You don’t have time for a pre-show fuck unless he’s truly a minute man, but see if you can calm him down. They got under his skin.”

I search his face, looking for some indication he’s being a smart ass or that he’s about to make a joke. Liam is difficult to get a read on at the best of times.

“Come on. I’ve already been gone for at least three minutes. That means he might have already snapped by now.” Liam guides me around the corner and pats my ass. “Save him.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. It’s really a smooth transition as I take the final few steps, wrapping my hand in Marcus’s. He startles, but his face softens when he sees it’s me. “Sorry, we’re about to go on. I’ve got to borrow him.”

Liam pops up and immediately redirects their attention as I pull Marcus back down the hallway I came from. I ignore Hawk and shove Marcus into the women’s room. To be fair, it’s dead. There are a lot more men on this tour than women.

I spin Marcus around once we’re inside and shove him against the wall. Okay, so I wouldn’t have a hope of forcing him if he fought me, but he doesn’t. He shoots me a bemused look, spinning his tongue ring between his lips.

I release his hand to grip his waist, stretching up on my toes to kiss him. He complies, bending down until our tongues meet. I’m obsessed with the way he wraps his arm around me, or maybe it’s the way his hand digs into my hip as he lifts me.

The kiss is intense, but everything with Marcus is. He always feels like he could consume me whole. The scary thing is, I don’t think I’d try to stop him. The next thing I know, my back hits the wall as Marcus smirks into the kiss.

“Did you mistakenly think you’re in control, princess? Because I can assure you that’s not the case.” He grinds against my core as I clutch his shoulders. He nips at my lips, making my feet dig into his ass.

I’m pretty sure Marcus is more than I can handle, but I’m along for the ride, wherever it takes me.

“You better not be fucking,” Liam says, opening the door a few inches. “They called us thirty seconds ago.”

“Ready?” Marcus grins against my cheek.

“Let’s do it.”

ChapterTwelve

Liam

There’s nothing in the world like the high you get from being on stage. It’s an unmatched adrenaline rush that can’t be beaten. Not by drugs, nor sex, or fast cars. There’s nothing like listening to thousands of fans chant your name or hearing them belt out the lyrics toyoursongs.

Okay, fine.

Our songs.

This is why I suck at being a good bandmate, but I am trying.

Oakley had the wobbles when we took the stage. Her voice was equally shaky for the first song, but she hit her stride.

Marcus, despite his faults, is a goddamn talented musician. He also knows exactly how to play to the crowd, which is convenient. My old band had raw talent, but none of them had the stage presence to make it like we are now.

I stare at my feet, shaking away those thoughts. If I could trade my life here on this stage to give them theirs back, I would, no questions asked and no second thoughts. Unfortunately, that’s not how the universe works.

I jolt, realizing I’m supposed to be introing Marcus and Oakley’s duet. The stagehands have the piano in place, and I pass off my guitar to the guy closest to me.

“Have we got a treat for you.” I make my way up to the front of the stage. “This is an original written by Lyric Sinclair. I’m sure you know her asThe Daughter of Rock.”

The screams from the crowd are so loud my mixers buzz for a few seconds. I’m going to need to bring that up after the show because it’s annoying as hell.

“Ready?” I ask Oakley and Marcus, who are now at center stage waiting to sing.

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