Rock Me Slower (Licks of Leather #3) - Jenna Jacob Page 0,83
I sound like one, too.”
Leaving my dressing room, I strolled down the long, narrow hallway, and joined Duke and Mick in the soundproof rehearsal room.
“Have you peeked outside yet?” Duke asked, wearing a mile-wide grin.
“No. Why? Is there a big crowd?” I asked, butterflies still dipping and swooping like mad.
“Big? If you call three and a half blocks of fans standing heel to toe, and growing a big crowd, then yeah. Hell yeah.” He laughed. “I’m glad Quinn convinced Todd to let us play the outdoor stage and not inside the bar. There’s no way all those people would fit in the club. Hell, there’s so many, they’ll be pouring into the alley and the parking lot across the way.”
Heart pounding like a drum in my chest, I pressed a hand to my roiling stomach. “Either of you ever play a crowd this big before?”
“Not me,” Mick replied, looking anxious for the challenge.
“Me, either,” Duke seconded.
“I’m not sure I have, except at the Grammys, but it was…subdued. I have a feeling these kids are going to be anything but restrained. Especially when they know Licks of Leather will be taking the stage after us.”
“You’re nervous?” Mick asked, clearly surprised.
“A little. But I’m going to make-believe we’re simply practicing. I’ll be fine.”
And pretend that Ozzy was across the hall in his own soundproof studio instead of watching and listening backstage. Heart fluttering in time with my knotting stomach, I sucked in a deep breath, slung my guitar over my shoulder, and pushed my jitters away.
“Okay, let’s take it from the top.”
Playing the first set of lyrics and chorus of each song, we breezed through our hour-long set in under twenty minutes. While I worked to calm my pre-performance jitters, we paraded down the hall and through a side door that led to the outdoor stage.
We waited in the wings as Todd’s crew hauled our equipment from the warmup room and began assembling everything in place.
The air wafting off the crowd and spilling into the wings was electric, ramping my excitement even higher. I peeked around the massive speaker on my left and nearly swallowed my tongue. An ocean of people, young and old, stood shoulder to shoulder, spilling out beyond the concrete pad. Colorful beach balls leapt and swooped over the expanse as people laughed and yelled.
The butterflies in my stomach turned into lightning bugs, sending surges of electricity zapping my system.
“You doing okay? You look nervous.” Ozzy sidled up beside me. His eyes flickered with sin as he dragged a lurid gaze up and down my body. “Scratch that. You look…edible and nervous.”
Leaning in, he scraped his teeth over the pulse point at the base of my neck, then laved the sting with his tongue.
“Oz,” I moaned. “You’re distracting me.”
“Good. That’s my goal.”
“Distraction?”
“Yeah. I gotta do something to get your mind off worrying about fucking up on stage.”
“How did you know I was—”
“It’s a curse. Those same doubts worm their way into every performer’s brain.”
“Not yours.”
“Wanna bet?” He cupped my neck and strummed his thumb along the edge of my jaw. “Stop worrying. You’re going to kill ’em tonight.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I can feel it my bones.”
I couldn’t help but laugh and let my perverted brain take charge of my mouth as I glanced at his crotch. “Oh, yeah? Which bone?”
“You dirty girl. Do I need to take you to my dressing room, strip you bare, and show you?”
Yes. Oh, god. Yes!
It felt like a lifetime since Ozzy had made love to me…or rather, made me feel good. Okay, so that was my fault, I admit it. But spending so much time with him over the past week, breathing in his intoxicating scent, staring into his dark, sinful eyes, and hearing his buttery warm laughter sliding over my flesh had my girl parts screaming for relief.
And the fact that Ozzy hadn’t moved back to his own room, and I couldn’t let my fingers do the walking with him lying beside me, was sending me to a whole new level of sexual frustration. But I couldn’t initiate any hot, sweaty, thrusting, grunting sexual stress relief until it actually meant something to him.
“Your offer is…enticing, but I have a set to perform.”
“Yes, and I’m dying to hear it.” He pressed a hot kiss to my lips. “Maybe after.”
“Are you ready to rock?” Todd yelled into the mic on stage.
The raucous roar exploding from the already hyped-up mass sent goose bumps peppering my limbs.