Page 3 of Reckless
“I’m headed to bed…” Bryan yawned as he checked his phone, his tawny mop of hair almost touching his shoulders as he shook his head.
“Oh, we know you are, Bryan.” Ben rolled his eyes. “You never come out with us. We know you’re the resident boring bastard, but just because you have a little wife waiting at home doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun.”
“I’m out too,” Andy interjected, a huge yawn breaking up the last word. “I don’t want to spend the first break we’ve had in forever hungover as all hell.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Ben threw an arm around my shoulders. “At least I’ve got Gage fucking Strickland to have fun with. We’re hitting a club, right? Because there were some sexy chicks in the crowd tonight, and you just know they’re wild.”
“I don’t know. Is thatreallythe best idea…?” I laughed when his face fell. “I’m kidding. Let’s get the hell out—”
Ron, aka manager from hell, swung his bulky, muscled form through the door, effectively blocking the exit and putting an instant dampener on the good vibes. “Where do you think you’re going? You can’t be seen out tonight. Are you insane? The new purge movie just came out. You absolutely have to stay in.”
I repressed the laugh that swelled in my chest, holding it in tight, just as I could tell the boys were doing. Ron was a tad paranoid. He also wasn’t beyond using something like his own paranoia to convince us to follow his rules. So we were never sure if he was actually terrified thatThe Purgewould actually happen, or if he only used each movie release to manipulate us. Other than that, he was a hell of a manager.
But he could be a buzzkill.
“Ron,” Ben said, “I’m going to save you a panic attack and let you know that we’re going anyway.”
“No, you aren’t.” Ron’s hands flung out into the air. “And I’ll tell you why. There’s been social media chatter about a real purge in the city…”
I turned away to find my cell phone, not wanting to listen to the yelling that was inevitable. Ben would win anyway, I didn’t know why Ron bothered.
I’d left my cell in the pocket of my leather jacket that I’d brought to ward off that still cold March night air. It was in my dressing room, so I went to retrieve it.
Only, when I got there, it wasn’t alone.
“Hello there, Gage,” purred the blonde who’d been in the front row, now lounged on the couch wearing only red thong underwear, her too-round tits pushing out as she arched her back. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
I knew she expected to arouse me, but the sight of her spread out like a much-viewed centerfold made a brick settle in my stomach. “How did you get back here?”
We had good security, but this wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. Either the fans were sneaky, or the security liked to give us what we now called the nightly offering. Probably a bit of both. Sometimes it was a nice surprise, but tonight it was an annoyance. I just wasn’t in the mood.
A spot of red on the floor drew my attention. “Pick up your dress and put it on.”
Not fazed by my rejection in the least, she pushed herself up from the couch and strolled toward me, swaying her hips seductively. “Let’s have some fun.”
I waited for a reaction, but my cock wasn’t in the mood either. “Ben might be interested. He’s down the hall.” I thumbed the direction she needed to take.
Stubbornly ignoring my instructions, she traced a finger down my arm and stuck her finger in her mouth, sucking my sweat off it like the flavor was as sweet as simple syrup.
My lip curled up in disgust. I needed her gone.
Stepping away from her, I grabbed my jacket. “I appreciate you coming to the show, that’s awesome. And we hope you keep on coming to see Gaged, but as forthis, it isn’t going to happen.”
Anger burned through the seduction carefully placed on her flawless face. The sexy, flirty, fun vibes vanished in a heartbeat. “Yes, it is,” she snarled. “Everyone knows about you. You’re Gage Fucking Strickland, man whore. What’s wrong withme?” She hooked a finger under the G-string and pulled it wide, waggling a painted-on eyebrow at me.
This wasn’t going well.
“Listen, sweetheart, I want you to get your stuff on, not off.”
“Are you trying to say I’m ugly or something? You’re too good for me?”
Shit. I stuck my head out the doorway to call for security, but the hall was empty.
“No, I’m not saying anything at all. I just…I need to go.” I had one foot out the door when her hand caught my jacket, pulling me back with a strength that was surprising.
“Don’t go! Don’t be like that. Please, stay here with me. I’ll make you wish you could take me with you on tour.” She blinked rapidly and ran her tongue over her bottom lip.
Sometimes, when fame crowded in on me like this woman was right now, I wanted the simple things in life. A guitar so I could write songs. Hell, simpler. A farm so I could dig my fingers into earth that belonged to me, where I’d never have to wake up and take a moment to remember what damn continent I was currently on.
