Page 7 of SnowFyer (Roosters #8)

When the show was over, Seth promised himself he was going to whip Scarlett’s ass for this. The outfit she wore accented what it covered. Which was little. All that flaming red hair of hers looked like a halo from hell. She was definitely a wicked, wicked girl.

At first glance he wasn’t even sure the woman before him doing nasty things with that double neck was Scarlett.

But then she met his gaze with her defiant, haughty one and he knew .

Not only was this his Scarlett, but she’d brought her A game.

She fit the persona of rock star perfectly. Right down to the fuck-me stilettos.

Instantly, Seth was hard as a rock. Fitting since he was a rock-and-roll star in a hard rock band. He nearly laughed maniacally. Getting through this concert was going to be hell.

Except it wasn’t.

Scarlett was… perfect. She did her part, playing to the crowd.

Playing to him. They played off each other.

She and the band were seamless, the music blending perfectly but with a sound so uniquely Scarlett, it was obvious there was a new addition to the band.

Which prompted him to introduce her after the fourth song.

He hated that she got as much attention as he did.

Not because she didn’t deserve it or because he was a glory hound.

No. It was worse than that. He hated the eyes of ardent fans on her.

Knowing they could see so much of her body, and that she clearly delighted in showing off what was his nearly made him growl.

Which only made the next set that much more intense.

In a perfectly orchestrated show, every band member had specific places to move, a specific path to take to those places, at specific times in the show so nobody got tangled or injured.

Scarlet hadn’t had time to practice this part with the band so she stayed in her own “box” for the first couple of sets.

She knew where Arsen was supposed to be and when, but she seemed to be either feeling out the others’ patterns -- each band member, with the exception of Titan, who seemed to have only the one setting of “gruff” -- had their own rhythm and set place to move.

So, when they got to the next number where it was her turn to shine… boy, did she ever.

She followed Arsen’s pattern so when she approached Seth he knew the exact path she would take.

As he watched her coming toward him, the beat of the music overtook him.

There was no audience. No sound men. Nothing but him, the band, the music, and Scarlett.

Their music wasn’t about sex so much. More nightmares and darkness.

There was the occasional ballad, but even those weren’t about love.

Passion, maybe, but any reference to sex was usually of the one-night-stand variety.

But there was always passion in their lyrics, however sinister they might be.

With Scarlett moving toward him, playing to him, rubbing the back of her body subtly over him as she twirled around him, every lyric took on a whole new meaning for Seth.

For the rest of the show, the two fed off one another.

Seth touched her every chance he got. He’d come up behind her, gripping her hip possessively with one hand while he screamed his lyrics, holding his mic with the other.

He was never inappropriate about it, didn’t grind against her or anything, but the possession couldn’t be misunderstood.

He touched her bare skin whenever he could; that strip of creamy flesh between her top and pants seemed to taunt him every time she turned her back on him.

Well. Her skin and her perfect ass encased in bright leather.

At one point, she was playing to Titan, his drums and her riffs blending seamlessly with one another.

The big man saw Seth coming up behind her and gave a cocky smirk, twirling one stick between his fingers before acknowledging Scarlett by pointing it at her.

It was just before Seth snagged her around the waist, whipping her around and away from the drum stage, his big hands nearly spanning her tiny waist as he gripped her firmly.

Scarlett tucked her legs until the momentum shifted to take her down, and he set her on her feet as if they’d practiced the move a hundred times.

The crowd went nuts, loving the interplay. Seth thought his cock would explode.

They kept it up through the rest of the show until the last two numbers.

The songs Scarlett had used to prove to Seth she did indeed belong in this role.

Seth both anticipated and dreaded these two numbers.

He could only imagine how he’d ache for her and feared she could turn the tables on him with one cock of those generous hips.

She started the haunting arpeggios at the beginning of “Devil’s Heart,” her gaze fixed on Seth.

The song wasn’t about love or even sex, but about a bone-deep commitment born of desperation, obsession, and unrelenting lust. In the song, Satan finds himself obsessed with the daughter of an angel who’s been cast out of heaven.

It isn’t until he’s well and truly snared by her innocent beauty and the promise of her lithe body if he’d do but one small thing for her that he finds out for himself she’s manipulated him into invading heaven to avenge her.

By then, he’s committed. And he finally realizes the woman he’s obsessed with has talked him into a war where both sides will lose…

leaving her to rule heaven, Earth, and hell.

It wasn’t until Scarlett started the transition to “Nightmare in Heaven” that Seth realized he was kneeling before her, her knee thrown over his shoulder.

He was rubbing his face on her inner thigh precariously close to the junction of her legs.

How she’d managed to get her instrument out of his way and still play was beyond him, but he immediately shoved her leg off him.

He didn’t use a lot of force and telegraphed his move so she wouldn’t fall, but the order was unmistakable.

As if it had all been her idea, Scarlett used the momentum to twirl around, moving behind him.

As she circled him, Seth maneuvered so the two of them were back to back, their sides to the audience.

He needed her body pressing against his, rubbing over him sensually as if he were the Devil in the song and she were the innocent siren luring him to do things he normally would never even contemplate.

They stood like that for the remaining twelve bars it took to transition from one song to the next.

Just before she spun away from him, just as she switched from the twelve-string to the more conventional, hard-rock sound of her six-string, she stretched up to lick his earlobe. Then to nip him. Hard.

The crowd let out a collective roar, loving the interplay as it worked with the song.

Before he could even form a retaliation plan, she’d strutted away from him, spinning with her last step as if to emphasize the notes she was playing even as Titan’s drums assisted her, pounding with the same beat she raked over the guitar with her pick.

Then, she stood facing him, legs wide spread in a classic guitar-rock pose as she fell into the hard, driving riff of the band’s anthem, hair flying around her in a red crown like an angel of hell.

* * *

The show ended with a huge display of pyrotechnics. Scarlett was more than a little star-struck and a lot horny. Sweat slickened her entire body, and her eyes continually strayed to Seth. As the lights went down before the pyrotechnics faded, her ear pieces came to life. Arsen. Giving instructions.

“That’s a good wrap, guys. Now get the fuck off stage so we can get the fuck out of here.”

One of the stagehands snagged her guitar as she made her way to the wings.

Seth’s arm immediately went around her, steering her deeper into the hallway leading to the basement ramp.

Before they made it too far, someone was draping a cool terrycloth robe around her shoulders.

Seth helped her into it. It felt as if it has been in the refrigerator for a couple of hours, and she sighed in relief, not realizing how overheated she was.

“Here,” Seth said, shoving a cold bottle of water at her. “Drink. You have no idea how dehydrated you are.” She didn’t say anything or argue, simply took and drank.

She was in the middle of the entire band, who were surrounded by security, all herding them down the gangway toward a waiting limo.

When Scarlett stumbled, unable to keep up with the fast pace the men were keeping, Seth scooped her up.

She gave a startled cry, but clung to Seth as they picked up speed, practically running to get in the car.

“Hurry,” Titan said, not sounding in the least winded or in any distress whatsoever. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

“The crowd,” Scarlett said. “They’re still calling. We need to do an encore.”

“No,” Seth said in no uncertain terms. “Not tonight.”

He tossed her in the limo and then followed her in. Once inside, he pulled her into his lap, probably to make room for the rest of the band. It was cramped inside the limo as it was.

“Where are we going?” Scarlett asked, sagging against Seth. She’d given everything she had and was now starting to tremble, weakness filling her now that that final rush was over. “We need to take the stage at least once more.”

“No way that show gets any better,” Arsen said without hesitation.

“We play again after leaving the stage and breaking the rhythm, we might not find it again. We might, but the chance isn’t worth it. We leave now.” Scarlett could tell Seth was unmovable in this. Which was just as well. The longer she sat there the weaker she got.

“I can’t stop shaking,” she whispered, hating how weak she sounded.