Lovely Madness (Players #4) - Jaine Diamond Page 0,195

before going on. “It really felt like I’d fallen into a black hole. We’d just bought a recording studio together, and I thought when we got home from tour we’d hang out there and record our next album, so we could produce it ourselves and have creative control over it. Make it the album we most wanted to make together. But that didn’t happen. We never got to make that album. So I called the studio Little Black Hole.” I paused to take another breath as the crowd waited, listening. “I couldn’t even walk in the door there. But then this beautiful woman walked into my life. And she brought light into the dark. She made some things possible for me that I thought might never be possible again. So right now, I want to play this special song for a special girl named Taylor. This was Gabe Romanko’s favorite Rolling Stones song, and it’s her favorite, too.” I looked over at her. “I love you, Taylor.”

I started into “Gimme Shelter” on my Gibson, and Elle came in with that haunting falsetto that kicked off the song. Then Ash started accompanying her. The song built and it was fucking magical. Goosebumps broke out all over my body. Cold sweat ran down my spine.

By the time it was done, I could feel the whole room beating like one giant heart to the rhythm of the song.

I could feel the strange emptiness of Gabe not being there on the stage with me.

But I could feel the love and the energy of everyone around me, too.

As the lights went down and the roar of the crowd went up, the musicians all swarmed me. I hugged them all, quickly, and made my way to the side of the stage, where Taylor was waiting. Her eyes shone with tears as I pulled her into my arms.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I’m shaking with adrenalin,” I said, burying my face in her hair. “I can’t believe I did it.”

“You did it, baby.” She hugged me tight.

“I love you,” I told her, kissing her neck. “How soon can we get naked?”

Taylor laughed as my hands wandered down to her ass. “Are you always this handsy after you come offstage?”

“Maybe? Do you like it?”

“Yes…” She groaned a little, clinging to me as I nipped her ear with my teeth.

“Bonus, people will leave us alone if we’re making out…”

“Then let’s make out,” she said breathlessly.

I kissed her, steering her back into the shadows and up against a wall. I could hear people all around us, but no one came close.

“Baby,” she said. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Proud enough to take a ride on my cock back in the dressing room?”

She laughed again, and she took my face in her hands so she could look in my eyes. “Proud enough to be your woman for the rest of my life.” Then her smile faded as I took her face in my hands and the mood grew serious.

“Then you should marry me,” I told her.

“Then you should propose.”

I kissed her again. “Maybe I will. If you promise to show up at every show wearing a low-cut dress like this.” Then I kissed my way down between her breasts, and hooked a finger into her dress—and her bra. I tugged, exposing one taut pink nipple, and swiped my tongue over it.

“Oh—that’s dirty.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, trying to hide what I was doing, as I sucked her nipple into my mouth. “Everyone’s here…”

I swept my tongue around her nipple, then kissed my way back up to her lips. “Welcome to rock ’n’ roll, sweetheart,” I said. “It’s a dirty business.”

She grinned and I kissed her, delving my tongue into her sweet mouth. My heart was thudding, steady and strong in my chest—the high of having her here, in my corner, in my arms, fueling me. I slid a hand up between us to cup her breast, teasing the bared nipple with my thumb.

“Let me inside you,” I murmured, kissing my way along her jaw to her ear. “I want to be inside you for the rest of the night.”

“Literally?”

“As long as we can both handle it.” I sucked her earlobe into my mouth and squeezed her nipple, rolling it in my fingers. I could feel her tremble, her body hot against mine. “Actually… I want to be inside you for the rest of my life.”

Her eyes locked with mine.

“But that part’s more symbolically speaking,” I clarified.

“Uh-huh.” She sighed

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