Page 7 of The Rockstar (Steamy Shorts #21)

By the time I reach the main platform, breath fogging in the cooler dusk air, Jensen stands to the side, clipboard in hand, chewing on a pen cap. Same as always.

He clocks me and raises an eyebrow. “You planning to cause a riot or are you here to tune my mics?”

“Depends,” I say, grinning. “The headliner still not around?”

He sighs. “They’re running late. Twenty minutes, maybe thirty.”

That burst of adrenaline kicks in hard. My hands tighten around the case. “I got you.”

Jensen starts to smile, but he looks at me warily. “You know they’ll find out about this, right? Someone will be streaming it live.”

The thought tamps down the excitement, but not by much. “I know.”

“They’ll call me. Then they’ll call you.”

“Too bad I don’t have my phone then.”

Jensen chuckles. “You throwing me under the bus?”

“Can you handle them?”

He raises the pen and gives me a salute. “With pleasure. Now go bring down the house.”

I’m already moving when I spot Vivian and Valerie slipping through the crowd.

A security guard steps in their way. Vivian’s hands go up in protest, and I can feel her attitude all the way from here.

She looks so tiny compared to the guard, but of course, she doesn’t let that deter her. I almost feel bad for the guard.

I lean toward Jensen. “That tiny girl with the big attitude and her sister, let them through.”

Jensen whistles to the guard and waves off, and they’re escorted to the cordoned-off front section. Valerie looks both thrilled and still in disbelief. Vivian meets my eyes and gives me a grin that slices straight through me. Then she blows me a kiss.

Fuck. My chest squeezes.

I turn toward the stage and step into the spotlight. The crowd’s small, scattered, curious. No roar, no chants, just soft murmurs, and a breeze pulling at my hoodie.

None of them expects me. They expect to see someone else.

With a deep breath, I set the guitar case down, unzip it, and take out my old acoustic. It’s been a while since I used it. I’ve gone full electric for years.

My fingers are steady. The hoodie comes off. Then the cap. The mask stays off.

The moment I strum the first chord, it’s like coming home.

I start with “Rock Me,” one of my older singles. Stripped down like this, it’s less anthem and more confession. People start drifting closer, eyes wide, like they’re not sure if it’s really me.

By the second song, “Rage and Riot”, phones are out. Cameras flash. The crowd is swelling now, word spreading like wildfire. I should feel the pressure, but all I feel is ... free.

Song three is “Velvet”, and I close my eyes on the final note, letting the silence hang. When I open them again, I look straight at her.

Vivian. Front row. No phone. No filming. That pride on her face feels more real than any standing ovation I’ve ever gotten. Valerie stands beside her, hands to her mouth, eyes wide.

I roll into the fourth song, “Exit Wound”, and it’s rawer than I remember. My voice cracks in one place, and the crowd cheers.

Then I breathe.

“This last one,” I say into the mic, glancing back at Vivian, “is for the woman who made me remember what soul-deep happiness feels like.”

The crowd lets out an ooh , and I grin.

“And her sister, too. Their booth has the coolest records this side of the state. It’s the last one by the popcorn stand. If you expect nice, accommodating ladies, though, you’ll be disappointed.”

Laughter ripples across the lawn. Vivian’s cheeks flush.

I start playing “Welcome to My Life.”

I’ve never performed it like this before, but I remember how I felt when I wrote it, and how Vivian explained she felt it, too. People talk about love at first sight, and I never really believed it.

Twenty-four hours ago, I never would have thought I’d feel something so deep and intense. I never would have thought what started as hiding in the cabin would end with me performing to at least two hundred people in a relatively obscure music fest.

But here I am.

As I strum the final note and let it hang in the air, the crowd erupts, clapping, cheering, someone yelling, “Marry me!” from the middle section.

I grin and lean into the mic. “Sorry, I’m already emotionally unavailable. My heart’s been hijacked by a girl who sells candles smelling like Mr. Darcy’s sweat.” A wave of laughter rolls over the field.

My gaze zeroes in on her—Vivian, flushed, wide-eyed, still not holding her phone.

I give the crowd a bow and stare at Vivian, jutting my chin subtly toward backstage.

She hesitates for a second before shaking her head with a smirk, mouthing, “What are you doing?”

I don’t answer, just disappear behind the curtain. But I don’t have to wait long.

Vivian rounds the corner, lifting an eyebrow. “What was that? You know your face is probably already trending?—”

I don’t let her finish. One step forward and I’m on her, kissing her like I haven’t seen her in years. My hands hold her jaw as I back her into the first quiet room I can find. It’s dim, dusty, and full of folding chairs and equipment cases.

The door clicks shut behind us, and we’re a tangle of limbs.

“You’re killing me,” I say against her mouth. “Up there, looking at me like that.”

She laughs, breathless. “Like what?”

“Like you couldn’t wait to tear my clothes off.”

She tugs me closer, her hands sliding up under my hoodie to trace the skin at my waist. “I couldn’t.”

I lift her onto a storage crate, deepening the kiss, her fingers tugging at my hair while mine trail down her back, memorizing the way she arches into me. She fits me so fucking perfectly.

“These fucking shorts need to go.” She helps me take off her shorts and giggles. I move to toss them to the floor before remembering what these floors must have seen and thought better of it. “These panties, too.” The panties go into my pocket.

As much as I want to take my sweet time with her, I can’t risk anyone walking in on us. There are at least half a dozen staff members outside right this very moment, so we need to be as quick as possible.

I wrap Vivian’s legs around my waist, and I lean her against the wall. With one hand around her waist to hold her and the other unbuttoning my jeans and taking out my cock, I’m more than ready to fuck her brains out.

I’m so hard I don’t even need to guide myself to her pussy, so I grip both her thighs and lower her to me, her wet, warm hole opening for me, sucking me in, gripping me with her inner muscles.

“Fuck, Vi. You feel so fucking wet and ready and good.”

“Stop talking, Ryder. You talk too much.”

That makes me chuckle. “Okay, boss.”

“Still talk?—”

She doesn’t finish the last word as I slam my cock into her, filling her to the brim.

“Jesus, Ryder.”

“No Jesus here, baby. It’s all me.”

“Shut up.”

I bury my face in the crook between her neck and shoulder, sucking on the skin there. “Grind on me, Vi. Grind.”

She does as she’s told, tightening her arms around my neck, her thighs around my waist, grinding on my cock and bouncing. “This is so good. Fuck. Ryderrr.”

My name becomes a moan, and it only serves to sharpen my desire into a blade. I press sucking kisses to her neck as something primal pulses hot and heavy between us.

The voices around us disappear, and it’s just her and me. Our moans, our panting, the sound of flesh slapping against each other.

“God, your cock…”

“Ride me harder, Vi. That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

She goes faster, her hips an absolute miracle, as I fight for my life, trying to stave off the orgasm.

I lift her slightly and look at where we’re joined—my cock glistening with her juices, and her pussy lips opening for me. I lower her back and watch my cock disappear inside her. I do this a few more times because it feels so fucking good.

Vivian eventually follows suit and looks down, too, and the next thrust pushes her toward an orgasm.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Her hips move faster, and I give everything I have to her, meeting her thrust for thrust, until her legs tremble, and she slumps in my arms, limbs like wet noodles.

“My turn, Vi.” While her pussy suctions up around me, I pound her against the wall and sink my tongue in and out of her mouth. My pulse pounds madly, and I let out a guttural moan as I deliver my spend, pinning her so I can come as deeply as possible.

My own orgasm blinds me, and I snap my eyes shut, reveling in the scent of our sweat and orgasm, my cock still twitching inside her.

I never knew this level of happiness existed. Now I do. And it’s all because of her.