Relentless Rhythm (Tempest #4) (20 page)

Tempest was the last band scheduled to perform. It’d been torture waiting. Brutal Strength had just finished their set. They had been the highlight so far, precise and polished.

Avery made my jaw drop. Besides being sexy, she was a complete and utter guitar prodigy. No one else played the way she could. Plus it was obvious she was someone who followed through on her promises, a rare and admirable quality. John and Michael had nearly come out of their seats when Marcus had dedicated ‘B Jezebel’ to me.

War and his new band had been forgettable. The ex-Tempest front man had clearly been drunk or high. He’d worn sunglasses the entire time. The sound was mixed poorly. The band’s instruments had drowned out War, deemphasizing his stripped down vocal style.

And then it was finally time for Tempest. The auditorium went completely dark. My heart felt like it was trying to hammer out of my chest. I leaned forward in anticipation.

A lone spot light clicked on Justin Jones center stage. His head was thrown back. He held the mic to his mouth. The crowd roared their approval of the drama and everyone surged to their feet, most with their cell cameras held high, others clapping enthusiastically.

Justin let out a primal yell that sent goose bumps popping along my skin.

Then more shadowy shafts of light rained down on the other four. King on the drums twirling his drumsticks. Sager in front with his bass. Both wearing subtle grins and shades. Dizzy stood to one side of Justin, Bryan in leather pants on the other. Rhythm and lead faced off wearing wide cocky smiles on their faces, obviously there was nowhere those two would rather be than right there on that stage .

Dizzy led the band out with a languid liquid groove, the rhythm making me think of sex, especially with the deliberate groans Justin added. It was hard to keep from being aroused. Then they kicked in to full hard rocking mode. Back to naked back Dizzy and Bryan jammed, tearing through two songs without any pause, their lyrics irreverent and their sound in your face explosive.

Tempest owned it. Five sexy guys held the audience enthralled. For me just one in particular.

I felt flushed. I pulled the long rope chain I wore away from my sweaty neck and caught Mel watching me. She’d been giving me speculative glances since Dizzy and I rejoined her and my brothers backstage. But what could I tell her? What could I say? That the guy she’d been crushing on had just completely rocked my world with a kiss? That my marriage was a wreck? That my life a complete farce? That I was so tempted to throw caution and everything else to the wind for just one single moment with him?

Fingers strumming, body sliding in perfect sync with the tempo, Dizzy walked backward across the stage so he and Sager could share a mic adding their voices to Justin’s on a chorus. I zoned in on Dizzy’s voice among the others. I was totally attuned to that velvet timbre.

I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I was completely obsessed. Sign me up for my stalker license. I’m sure I wouldn’t be the only one. Those low jeans, the v above them, the defined torso above that. His lean frame wasn’t anything like James’ bulky build, and that was a good thing. I licked my dry lips, remembering how Dizzy’s smoothly oiled skin felt, and the way his muscles had flexed beneath my touch before he’d pushed me away.

I’d been so disoriented by his mouth and his touch that I wouldn’t, no,
couldn’t
, have protested if he’d taken me right there in the hall. He’d completely rearranged me, making my body his own the same way Tempest had dominated the stage tonight.

I was so screwed.

Wanting him like this.

So badly.

It didn’t help, staring at him up on stage, blasting his rock star aura, the guitar strap across his wide chest, his body gleaming with sweat. The half lidded eyes and the slumberous expression on his face made me and probably every other woman in the audience think about only one thing… what it would feel like to be lying beneath him.

Those long fingers stroked the strings, reminding me of the way he’d caressed me, tender and urgent. And when Justin paused to speak into the mic, Dizzy’s pick went between his sculpted lips, the ones I’d sampled, the ones that felt so divine, the ones I wanted to feel again…everywhere on my body.

I shivered recalling the sensual contrast between the compliant texture of his warm lips and the cold rigid metal of his piercing. I remembered the distinctively metallic taste of the loop under my tongue and the mouth that had breathed life back into me. He made me long for the dream again. Made me believe in things I’d set aside. He’d changed everything around me from dull grey to vivid color. And a part of me knew there’d be no going back.

As I refocused on the stage, the screen behind the band flashed through red tinged storm images, churning waves, lightning flashes. A tempest, turbulent like my emotions.

Dizzy remained on the left side of Justin, Bryan on the right, his red and black tat sleeves aglow in the reflected light. As the lead Bryan was the flash. No wonder they called him ‘Bullet’. His solo work kicked ass. But Dizzy…long audible sigh. He was the smolder, the slow burn, the dark promise, the sizzling build up, the delicious tension before the climax.

I could
feel
him for real. He said he’d play for me and I believed him. Raw desire gleamed from his whiskey colored eyes. Dizzy Lowell held me captive in his heated gaze. I couldn’t break his hold on me. I didn’t fight it. I didn’t try to get away. I didn’t want to. The space between us seemed to disappear. It felt like we were the only two people in the theatre, in the entire universe, if only that could be true.

Everything else in my life seemed to fade away into insignificance in that moment. All that remained was my need for him.

“No one’s
letting
me do anything.” Sager laughed mimicking Justin’s response to War’s challenge during their recent backstage showdown. The after party in the crowded Sutton ballroom was in full swing around us, the social elite of Vancouver hovering, the crystal chandeliers casting their muted glow on the five of us. King, Sager, Bryan, and I stood out the way we always would, Southside guys to the core. Attitude, tats, and leather, even when washed up and in our best jeans. And Justin, who was making a strong play to fit in.

“Did you see the look on War’s face?” King followed up. “
Pendejo’s
finally getting a clue. Tonight proved he’s the one who’s replaceable.”

I was barely paying attention to the conversation, and I wasn’t the only one. Bryan seemed distracted, too. Since Lace took off, his gaze kept flicking to the entrance to the ballroom. She hadn’t given a reason for her sudden departure, and he hadn’t asked her to. My sister was independent and unpredictable, and everyone knew it hadn’t been that long since she and War had been together. I wondered if Bullet was thinking the same thing.

I turned the grey leather cuff on my Miansai watch around, checking the time on the black dial again, and that’s when I saw her. My eyes widened. I’d never seen her wearing shit like that. She was usually dressed to deflect attention not attract it. “Isn’t that Bridget?” I asked, elbowing our new lead singer.

Justin and my sister’s best friend had been inseparable until that psycho ex of his had stuck her nose in it. Given the desperate looks of longing on both their faces now, it seemed pretty apparent to me that they were ready to kiss and make up.

I stepped out of his way, spotting my sister skirting the perimeter of the room with Bridget’s son. One mystery solved. Guess Lace hadn’t scooted out to search for War after all. Relief washed over me. The band had weathered enough drama in that regard.

As I weaved my way through the crowd toward Lace, most of the responses I got were the fawning. That was alright. I noted an occasional look of disdain from the high brows. I remembered something War would always say. ‘Fuck the haters.’

“Diz!” Carter’s big blue eyes lit up when he saw me. I didn’t let it go to my head. Bridget’s little dude worshipped all the guys in the band.

I grinned at him. “Hey, Champ.”

“You guys were awesome!” the precocious five year old declared, his feet clearing the floor fueled with the power of his enthusiasm.

“Thanks. Glad you got to see the show.” I met my sister’s eyes. “Have you seen Bluebelle anywhere?”

“No, but then I was upstairs with Bridget for a while.” She cocked her head to the side. “Why?”

“No reason.” I lied, wondering what was taking her and April so long to get here. Surely, they’d show up soon.

“But I’ve brought a message for you from the Queen. I ran into her on my way in. She wants to speak to you. It didn’t sound like it would wait.”

“Yeah?” I pulled in a breath. “Great.” I’d better go ahead and get that chore over with so I could figure out what I was going to say to April. I didn’t want to lose my nerve, but I wasn’t going to let her pull back again, either. We were going to work things out tonight. “Where is she?”

“Conference room B.” Lace arched a brow. “Charles Morris was going in as I left. Looked intense.”

Hmm. That was interesting.

When I escaped the crowded ballroom, I asked a uniformed hotel employee for directions to the conference area. His eyes lit up with recognition, but he kept it professional, escorting me to the door without making a big deal out of it.

I started to enter, but the sound of raised voices stopped me in my tracks. I peeked through the cracked door. In a grey and black beaded cocktail dress, shoulders back, hands fisted on her hips, the Queen of Black Cat faced off against the tuxedoed King of Zenith. “I don’t know who you charmed on the board to get him on the bill tonight, but this is unacceptable Charles.” Her grey eyes flashed fire at the rival executive. “In case you haven’t noticed Warren Jinkins is a human being with feelings and relationships that you’re damaging with your games. Not just a pawn you can use to manipulate me.”

“I wouldn’t have to.” Morris took a step closer to her, lifting a hand and raking it through his silver and black streaked hair while Mary watched him with an anxious expression I’d never seen. “If you just would’ve just listened to what I had to say in Miami instead of slinking off while I was asleep.”

“There’s nothing left to say.” She sounded defensive.

“Not true!” he snapped, his light blue eyes a maelstrom of emotion. Mary’s chin came up reminding me of the way April acted whenever I pushed her too far. “There’s decades worth. We’ve wasted too much time already, and I refuse to waste any more.” He reached out and plunged his hands into her loose shoulder length hair, tilting her head back and slamming his mouth onto hers.

Holy shit.

Her fisted hands pounded on his chest, once, then two times more but not as hard. I moved forward ready to put an end to whatever the hell was going on when I heard her moan, a long aroused one. I stopped, my brows rising above my surprised eyes.

I watched her fingers curl into the lapels of his tux, and then even I felt embarrassed as he bent her over nearly backward with the force of his passion.

I didn’t say anything, but I must’ve made a sound because Mary suddenly pushed him away and looked at me. She was breathing hard and her hand trembled when she brought it to her mouth. Morris gave me a look that would’ve incinerated me on the spot if I wasn’t so used to dealing with flare-ups with our hotheaded drummer.

“This isn’t over,” Morris told Mary, his voice gruff as he spun away, brushing past me as he exited the room.

The Queen stared at the empty doorway for a long moment before she eventually turned back to me, her imperial mask again firmly in place. “Excellent performance tonight, Lowell.” Her tone had returned to its usual shade of regal. Though she was all business again, I knew I’d never be able to look at her the same way again, not after having witnessed that scene. “Have a seat.” She motioned to a chair opposite the one she took. “I wanted to touch base with you. Find out how you think things are going with Justin.”

“Good.” The guy was like a whole other level of badass on stage. He might not be one of us, but he might be able to learn. “I think he’ll work.”