Rockstar (4 page)

The doors to the venue swung open and the crowd, now at fevered heights, began pushing and shoving their way inside.

Summer strode to the front of the line, figuring she might as well put her little laminated friend to the test. She flashed the badge and the ticket-taker gave a nod in response. Despite the groans of protest Summer bypassed the lines. She headed into the building and down the corridors leading to the floor seats.

The theater was dimly lit. A halo of light surrounded each of the columns flanking the four sections of seating. In the balcony the lighting was more abundant, but on the floor there was only the soft glow of the column lights and the colored spotlights dancing above the stage to light the way.

The band's music filled the theater with a raw thunderous beat. The chatter from the crowd was deafening. Almost loud enough to drown out the pre-concert music blaring from the speakers overhead.

Summer toyed nervously with the clasp on her purse as her gaze bounced from section to section. The seats were filling quickly with eager fans. She was considering pulling out her camera and snapping a few shots when someone tapped her on the shoulder. “Summer Staite?"

Startled, Summer turned on her heels. Noting the matching badge about the woman's neck she nodded. “Yes?"

"I'm Jenny. Will you come with me please?"

She followed Jenny through the maze of chairs to the side of the stage. A dark velvet curtain crossed the distance between the stage and the back wall. A seemingly easy fortress to penetrate ... If not for the pair of thick-muscled men in tight black T-shirts standing guard. Jenny flashed them both a dazzling smile and as if by silent command the two men swept the curtains aside, allowing them passage.

Beyond the curtain lay a short flight of stairs. Jenny took them two at a time, leaving Summer to trot along after her.

They turned down a hallway and walked half a dozen paces before Jenny finally stopped abruptly. She shoved open an unmarked door and on her silent command Summer stepped inside.

A small sitting area was carved out with a couch and a single chair in one corner of the room. Across from it there was a large flat-screen television fixed to the wall. Below that sat a small wet bar, fully stocked and completely untouched.

Summer crossed to the bar first. She noted it was stocked with several top-shelf brands of bourbon, whiskey and vodka. Below the bottles sat tumblers and wine glasses. On the other side six bottles of wine rested behind a wire-framed cabinet door. In between the hard alcohol and high-dollar wine was a small black refrigerator.

"Have a drink."

Startled Summer slammed the fridge door shut and whirled about. Anthony was standing in the threshold watching her. “How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to know you're a true reporter."

"What?"

He nodded to the fridge. “You going to go through my garbage next?"

Summer let out a huff and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. She didn't like the implication that she was snooping, even if that was basically was what she was doing. “I was just looking for a bottle of water."

"Sure.” He dug a pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and slipped one out.

Behind him a “No Smoking” sign was bolted to the beige walls. The irony of it sent a smile to crest Summer's lips. His dark brows dip in question. “What's so amusing?"

Summer nodded to the sign.

He cast a glance back at it then shrugged. A wicked smile curved his lips. “Just a suggestion."

The stone-cold façade he had worked so hard to maintain during their first encounter at the café had cracked, and beneath it Summer was offered a glimpse into his character. She saw darkness, danger, even desire, and it made her insides tighten with anticipation. “I forgot. Rules that apply to everyone else don't apply to you."

A devilish smile tipped his lips. “Everybody wants to be a rockstar."

His gaze was no longer callous and cold as he drank in the sight of her. Her heart beat erratically as he closed the distance between them. It pounded like a jackhammer, ringing in her ears and making her draw a sharp breath as he circled her. He drew so dangerously close she could breathe in the cool, musky scent of his cologne. Her body shook with desire as he closed in on her. It made the words tumble shakily from her lips. “Do you always get everything you want?"

"Do you?” Beneath his dark brows his searing gaze was hungry. As if he were a panther on the hunt and had just spied his next meal.

The thought of him devouring her made her body ache for his touch. And though he was so dangerously close, though she had but to shift her body to press her sex against his, they remained painfully distant. She couldn't think with him so close. No one had ever looked at her the way he did. It made her feel beautiful, powerful and completely in his control. She wasn't sure she liked the last of those feelings. She was always in control. Always.

"Yes.” She lifted her chin with the confidence of her words. Had she not been the journalist, had he not been the story, his command of her would have been her undoing. She would have given herself completely and begged him to dominate her. But she wasn't looking for a lay. What she needed more than she needed his cock between her legs was his story. “Always."

"Where's the fun in that? Always getting what you want."

"It's not the act of acquiring what one wants.” She motioned to the dwindling cigarette between his fingers. He twirled it around and offered it to her without hesitation. She brought the tip to her lips and let it linger just a breath from connecting. “It's the chase that thrills,” she added, then drew off the cigarette.

"And what thrills are you after?” His tongue slipped out from between his slightly parted mouth. He licked his bottom lip and then bit down on the swell as though he was fighting for control of his own appetite. That solitary, absentminded action nearly made her forget what it was she was after. For in that moment the only thrill she wanted was him.

She offered him back his cigarette and took a deliberate step away. She needed space. She couldn't think with his hot breath fanning over her skin and igniting a long-forgotten desire for the touch of man. It had been too long since anyone but herself had touched her.

Her mind swam in a hundred different directions. He had asked her something, hadn't he? What the hell was she here for again? “The unattainable story,” she said at last.

Anthony crushed his cigarette into the sink.

He took a step toward her and she in turn took one away.

A wicked smile toyed at the corner of his mouth as he pressed forward again. Again she took another away. He pressed on and she retreated until he caught her up against the wall.

Anthony reached out and Summer held her breath as she waited for him to press his hand against her. But he denied her and pressed his palm flat against the wall beside her instead. “What makes you think I'll let you expose me in the pages of your magazine?"

"I think—” she lifted her chin defiantly to meet his gaze, “—I wouldn't be here if there wasn't some thrill in the idea of being exposed."

"Maybe.” His mouth was but a breath away from her lips. “Then again, maybe there's some thrill in the idea of you."

She drew in the scent of him. There was a calm aquatic note spiced with coriander. The scent drove her near mad with an unquenchable desire. It was instant, hot and caught her completely unaware.

"I'm sure you can take two steps outside this room and find a dozen other girls who'd be more than happy to thrill you."

"I don't want a dozen other girls."

"Excuse me, Mr. Phoenix, they're ready for you.” Jenny's voice broke into the room to drown out the frantic beat of Summer's heart.

Anthony let his hand slide down the wall beside her, nearly grazing her fevered skin. Damned if Summer didn't long to have it slide down her body instead.

"I won't give you the story,” he said at length.

Summer shook her head slowly and drew in a deep breath. “Pity.” Against her better judgment she dared to touch him. She laid her palm flat against his chest. His heart thudded erratically beneath her touch and made her ache to press not just her hand but her body against him. Her lips brushed against his earlobe as she breathed a sigh over him. “We could have rocked the world."

Anthony let out a heavy sigh that bordered on a needy moan as she swept by him.

Summer pulled the pass from her purse. Let it dangle helplessly from the cord. She let loose. It fell into the garbage and landed with a clank against the bottom of the metal can.

Moments later the venue lights dulled and the roar of the crowd rose to a deafening volume. Though she had every intention of walking away, the sound of the crowd drew her to the stage.

Just because he'd said no didn't mean Summer had any intentions of letting the story go that easily. She paused at the side of the stage. Across from her, the curtains parted. Beyond, the band was cast in dazzling bright lights.

From her side-stage vantage she could see the nervous tremble in their hands as the band greeted the wailing crowd with a wave. The drummer swallowed nervously before pounding out a heavy, thunderous rhythm that filled the pulsing theater. There was an excited jitter to the guitarist's fingers as he picked at the cords, casting a high-pitched, whining riff over the drummer's thudding beat.

"I've never seen anyone turn him down like that.” Jenny crossed her arms over her chest as they turned to the stage.

Summer shook her head. “Men like him need to learn they can't always get what they want."

"He
always
gets what he wants.” Her voice dipped as though perhaps she was drawing from personal experience. A strange twinge ripped through Summer's stomach at the thought. What the fuck? Was she actually jealous?

She dismissed it with a wave of her hand as though she was dismissing the man himself. From behind the drawn curtains at the opposite side of the stage, Anthony emerged to an eruption of hysterical screams from an already charged crowd.

He crossed the stage with heavy, purposeful steps. His dark gaze was cast downward, focusing on the base of the microphone. He wrapped his fingers slowly about the mic, one by one as if enjoying the sensation scorching through each fingertip as it pressed against the cool metal.

His voice poured into the microphone. It echoed out into the crowded theater with a deep, sexy throb that vibrated down the length of Summer's body. It made the dull ache between her thighs flame to life with a painful heat.

Her gaze was drawn to his mouth. His lips were settled against the mic as his words dipped to a husky, almost muttering chorus. His raw voice jumped higher over the croon of the crowd. The lyrics were torn painfully from his throat over the pulsating riff. “The drugs come cheap and we don't have to think, we all just wanna be tied to the sheets. If only for a moment to feel your breath on my skin, hell, I'd spend a lifetime living in sin."

"If you want him, don't walk away. He won't come after you."

Summer huffed out a laugh at that. “Oh, I have no intentions of walking away.” Not from her story and not from the man who stirred to life demons she hadn't known she possessed.

Summer sat with Jenny backstage. She filled her small notebook with enough anecdotes to span three articles. It wasn't exactly what she'd been after, certainly not what she wanted, but it would do in the meantime until she could break the real story. As she had told Jenny, she had no intentions of walking away.

She learned from Jenny that Anthony had had his fair share of women. Usually groupies, sometimes staff, and yes, the occasional reporter, who usually walked away with sore legs and an empty hand. This wasn't exactly golden information. Everyone knew Anthony's drug of choice wasn't powders or pills, but women.

Summer caught sight of Anthony as the band poured from the stage at the end of the concert. His dark hair was damp and curled slightly at the tips. His gaze was cast downward and she couldn't see the dark sapphire irises that could make her entire body tingle with one glance. A layering of chiseled muscles ripped down his chest beneath his half-unbuttoned black shirt. Damn he was sexy. Too good looking for his own fucking good and he knew it.

Anthony lifted his gaze and genuine surprise etched his damp face. He stopped dead in his tracks, triggering a domino effect as his bandmates stumbled over him.

"You need a map, Tony?” the drummer joked as he slapped Anthony on the back and stepped around him.

A round of laughter burst out backstage but Anthony didn't so much as crack a smile. He was focused on Summer alone. Heat licked up her body like a needy tongue. Intentionally, she broke eye contact and turned back to Jenny.

"It must be exciting meeting so many celebrities.” Excitement charged Jenny's words. “Sometimes I think I might like...” Her words trailed off as something behind Summer drew her attention.

Anthony took Summer by the arm and yanked her up to him. He drew his hand upward and trailed it along the length of her arm, over her bare shoulder then finally he wrapped his hand around the base of her neck. One by one, his fingers curled, caressing her skin as he had caressed his mic.

He pulled her close and their lips rested a mere breath apart. The air between them was thick with unspoken need. He pressed his lips to hers, hungrily devoured her with a desperate, breathless kiss.

Summer's lips parted in eager acceptance. His tongue slipped softly over hers in a moist, breathless dance.

He drew in a deep, shaky breath as Summer ran her hands up his back, sliding them up until her fingers were buried in his dark hair. She bit down softly on his lower lip, suckling the tender flesh as a deep moan escaped from his lips.

The world faded away into the shadows. The hoots and hollers from the stage crew were but a distant echo as he trailed kisses down her jaw, tracing the long line of her neck. “Damn it, woman.” His warm breath feathered across her skin. “I'll give you your story."

"Dare I ask what you'll ask for in return?” She took his earlobe in her mouth. Desire throbbed viciously between her thighs as she pressed her sex against his. His cock grew hard against her, nudging against the confines of his jeans. Her body shuddered against him and the liquid need inside her seeped out to wet her thong. God, she wanted him. She didn't care what he asked for. She would have given him anything. Everything.