Joy Ride (17 page)

And the new clothes. God, Annie had been a pit bull, stashing her in a dressing room and bringing her items to try on—tight jeans, some with designs and tank tops and pretty tees to go with them. Vivid colors so unlike anything else in her closet. A new wrapping for a new person.

So by nine o’clock, deliberately blanking out her misgivings, she was in the shower, soaping herself, washing her hair, and mentally reviewing her wardrobe for something to wear.

I’ll never be able to make it through work tomorrow if I don’t get some sleep
.

But at ten-thirty, she was dressed in new white jeans and a royal blue tank top with a blue and white print blouse thrown over it. She slipped on new white sandals she’d been saving for…something.

As she dressed she got the strangest feeling, almost as if with her new clothes, she was putting on a different personality. Emma was in the closet with her dull colors and sensible clothes. She looked in the mirror and saw Music Lady, a woman with silvery hair and a distinctive purple streak. A woman whose skin glowed and whose eyes shone with anticipation. Who had a confidence lacking in Emma. In her mind she could almost hear the familiar sound of Lightnin’ and her hips swayed a little.

She was Music Lady!

Enough! Get moving
.

In minutes, she was in her car heading toward Aftershock.

Something was missing when she walked in the door and she frowned when she saw the empty stage.

“Band’s on a break,” the bouncer told her, taking her money and stamping her hand.

Annie had told her that’s what they were called. Bouncers. Not doormen. “It’s not an upscale condo building, sweetie.” Her friend had chuckled at her.

“W-When do they start again?” Emma asked.

“In a couple of minutes. Time enough to get a drink.”

The crowd was a little thinner tonight, making her journey to the bar a little easier. She got her usual bottle of beer, a drink she was actually beginning to acquire a taste for, and glanced around to see if she could locate Marc. The first thing she saw was Lacey, the over-the-top redhead from the other night wearing jeans that looked painted on and a halter top that was barely decent. She had her hand on Marc’s arm and was leaning toward him, a predatory smile on her lips. Emma might have been annoyed if she hadn’t seen the flash of irritation on Marc’s face and watched him jerk his arm away as he leaped up onto the stage. He obviously didn’t like what she was saying because he shook his head and turned away to pick up his bass. He moved to the side to speak to the drummer and plucked a few low notes on the bass. The drummer nodded to him, and Marc stepped back to his usual place.

When the redhead tossed her hair and moved away, Emma worked her way to the front of the stage just as the band kicked into the opening number of the set. Something bluesy with hard rock overtones.
Gritty
was the word that came to mind. Marc was entirely focused on the music, not noticing her at all, but she just stayed in place, swaying to the melody.

Tonight she tried to listen to the words, to understand what the song was about. It seemed to be about a man searching for love but every woman gave him the same old, tired routine. She thought the title might be
She Did It To Me Again
since that was the chorus, repeated over and over again, with Marc and the drummer laying down the low, heavy sounds she was fast becoming addicted to. It vibrated through her body, just like the other nights, shimmering in waves from her breasts to her very wet sex.

For the first time, she managed to pay attention to the other band members, recalling their faces from the picture she’d found on their website. The drummer Garrett, almost frenetic in his movements. Rick, the lead guitarist, making his fingers dance at a dizzying pace over the strings. And Danny, the lead singer, with a voice as smooth as aged whiskey and a register that spanned three octaves. Even when he hit the high notes, the music was compelling rather than abrasive.

And when they all brought their voices together in four-part harmony, Emma thought angels couldn’t have sung better. That was, if angels sang rock and roll.

Her hips bumped and wriggled, and she tossed her head back, but not so far she lost sight of Marc, wild on the stage as the power of the song built and built. When he joined in on the lyrics of the last repetition of the chorus, Emma felt as if she had been pulled on stage into the magic they were creating. When Marc screamed, “
She did it to me
” she had the eerie feeling he might have been singing to her.

He’s singing to Music Lady. And that’s who I am when I walked in here. A totally different person
.

And then the song was over, the last notes lingering in the air like sparks of electricity. Still hugging his bass, Marc let his gaze roam over the room. The moment he spotted Emma, his eyes locked with hers and she was surprised there was a stream of fire sizzling between the two of them. After a moment, one corner of his mouth lifted in a slow grin and Emma was afraid she’d melt down right on the spot.

Then they were into the next song, and Marc was again immersed in the music.

She stood in the same spot through the entire set, taking occasional sips of her beer, but mostly watching Marc avidly. Hungrily. Caught up in the hypnotic sound of his bass. The attack of nerves that she’d battled on the drive over eased a little but she still saw herself as an outsider in an alien world. Part of it, she realized, was her own insecurities, her fear that she was a fraud. Someone playing a role that wasn’t well rehearsed. She was feeling her way in this new environment.

When she looked at the other women in the crowd, all so much more comfortable with the scene and into it, it struck her that this was one of the main reasons she continued to keep her identity secret from Marc. Despite the spectacular sex and his reassuring words, she couldn’t get past the fear he’d take a look at her and decide she was too dull and boring for him. Even Annie couldn’t reassure her enough to shore up her confidence. She couldn’t seem to get rid of her sense of inadequacy to the other women she saw.

But you’re the one he chose
.

She knew that. Still….

And of course there was always the question of how her family and friends would react to
him
. Talk about a stranger in a strange land.

You’re a coward, Emma Blake
.

But at that moment the set ended and Marc placed his guitar in a stand on the stage. He spoke to the lead singer then jumped off the stage to where she waited. Her pulse rate accelerated and her breath caught in her throat. She loved the wild look about him when he finished a set, the disarray of his hair from the movement of his head and the edge of excitement that was almost visible. She wanted to throw herself at him and kiss him, even here in front of all these people, a reaction so unlike her normal self.

But all that quickly dissipated like smoke blown away in a breeze.

“Let’s take a walk outside.” His fingers rested on her elbow with a reassuring touch but he sounded strange.

Her stomach clenched. Was he about to tell her to leave? Was it over this quickly? She felt slightly nauseous as he urged her through the door to the parking lot and guided her toward the back of the building.

It’s okay. I knew this had to be over soon. I’m not his type. He’s figured it out. I can’t keep up. I can’t
—

They stopped just past the corner of the building. Marc pulled her around to face him, cupped her face in his hands and pressed his mouth to hers. Emma was so stunned for a moment she just stood there, unresponsive. But then she wrapped her arms around his neck. Boldly, she opened her mouth and welcomed his tongue inside, tangling her own with his. Holy God, he tasted so good. So distinctly…Marc, her Guitar Man. He kissed her until her head swam an onslaught of sensations threatening to drown her.

Magic. She didn’t know what else to call it.

He lifted his head only when they were both in danger of oxygen starvation.

“I watched for you all night.” His voice was husky and rough with desire. His gaze raked over her, heat sizzling in them. “You look sharp, ML.” He let the strands of the purple streak sift through his fingers. “Love the hair. And the clothes. Wow!” His eyes ate her up.

“It’s…sort of the new me.” She wet her lower lip. “I’m glad you like it.” She hadn’t realized how anxious she was about his opinion until she heard his words. Saw the look in his eyes. The knot of tension inside her lessened a fraction.

“I liked the old you,” he insisted. “But now, just…wow,” he repeated. He couldn’t seem to stop touching her hair. “I was afraid maybe two nights in a row would be too much for you.”

Their lips were still so close, she could feel his breath inside her mouth when he spoke.

“I almost didn’t come,” she whispered, tightening her arms around his neck.

“I’m glad you did.”

“When you dragged me out here, I was sure you were going to tell me I was too much of a pain in the rear and not to bother you any more.”

“What?” He licked her bottom lip. “Are you kidding? Never.”

“Whew.” She relaxed, the tautness easing more fully from her body. “Because I’d hate that. But…I’d understand.”

He frowned. “You would? Why?”

She shrugged. “You know. I always run away. Won’t go to breakfast with you. Won’t even tell you my name.”
Because I’m afraid that any minute you’ll figure out Music Lady doesn’t sparkle. I’m just plain old boring Emma Blake who hides behind a cloak of anonymity because I don’t have all that much to offer. That I’m really a fraud, despite the hair and clothes
….

He tucked her hair behind her ears, his eyes searching hers. “I’ll accept that you have a damn good reason for that. Or at least one you think is good. For the moment. It’s better than not seeing you at all.”

Everything inside her relaxed a little. He wanted her! He still wanted her! “I know you think I’m being stupid.”

And she was. She was just damn lucky he was willing to put up with her quirky hang-up. He didn’t seem to have a problem letting his world see them together—the band, the crowd, the club employees. Why couldn’t she do the same?

Because she was a freakin’ coward just taking chances for the first time in her life.

He brushed his mouth against hers. “I think you’re being ML. And that’s good enough for me right now.”

Emma pressed herself against him, heat surging through her when she felt the hard thickness of his cock through both of their clothes.

“Thank you.”

“I need to get back inside. We have one more set to do. Can you stay?”

She nodded.

“Good.” He smiled. “I’ll be playing especially for you.”

***

Marc cradled ML in his arms and smoothed damp tendrils of hair back from her face. One of these nights he’d figure out how to slow down the first time and not take her like some horny teenager.

He wondered if they’d ever reach a point where the sex was less explosive, less dynamic. Less emotional. God, he hoped not.

Her head nestled on his shoulder, her eyes closed, and her lips slightly curved in a satisfied smile. Her satiny skin retained the rosy flush of sex, and her nipples were still taut peaks. Marc trailed his hand along the line of her body, following the dips and swells, the curve of hip and thigh. Jesus, she was a pure treasure. So much more than any other woman he’d known. A total assault on every one of his senses.

The connection between them from the beginning had been more powerful than anything he’d ever felt, and the intensity of it just continued to increase. He still didn’t know how he’d gotten lucky enough for her to go home with him that first night. And to come back again. And if he had to play by her rules to keep her, so be it.

At least for now.

“Hey, Music Lady,” he said in a soft voice.

She opened her eyes languidly. “Hey yourself.”

“So. You said earlier you’d never been to a rock club before. Does that mean you don’t know much about the business?”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “To be truthful, I don’t know
anything
. I felt so stupid because my friend knew all about your band, and I had to Google you to even realize who and what you are.”

“So no rock clubs? No wild night life?”

She blushed. “No. ‘Fraid not. Just didn’t do that scene.” Snuggling closer and burying her face against his chest, she asked, “Do you think I’m weird? Want to change me for a more up-to-date model?”

For the first time, he was beginning to understand what her hang-ups were. But maybe the kind of life she led, the overwhelming nature of the club scene and their unexpectedly explosive sex was the reason why telling him her name was such a big deal. It was like exposing who you really were to someone and not knowing if that person would be turned off. Or something. But rather than doing that, it only made him fall for her a little bit more.

He didn’t think he’d ever met someone who’d never been to at least one rock club. He wondered exactly how sheltered her life was. Had been? Okay, so she was a little bit of a novice in bed. That only told him she hadn’t had many lovers. And that was good. Very good. He wanted to teach her everything himself.

“Hell, no. Are you kidding? It’s not a big deal but just where
did
you go?”

She lowered her eyelids but not before he saw embarrassment flash for a moment. “We went to…other kinds of place. And not too many concerts. I really led a much different kind of life than you have.”

“Not really so different,” he contradicted. “You don’t know anything about me except what you see in the club and here. I think you’d be surprised at how my normal life really was. Is.” Wouldn’t she just be shocked if he introduced her to his mom and dad and his brothers? He cleared his throat. “But maybe we can play a little game. Exchange a little information.”

She tensed. “Marc, I don’t—”

He touched a finger to her lips. “Hush. Nothing big or important. Just little stuff. Any time you want to stop we’ll call a halt to it. Okay?”

“Okay.” But she said the word as if she didn’t quite believe him.