“We’re gonna do things a little different tonight. Get a little soulful.”

The Animal howls its approval.

I grin into the mic. “And this lovely lady to my right,” I say as Libby walks up to the mic next to mine, “is the talented Ms. Liberty Bell. Let’s give her a proper welcome.”

She trembles as the Animal screams, catcalls, and hollers, punctuating the night air. She doesn’t look at me, doesn’t do anything but stare out at the sea of humanity with wide eyes. And for a cold second, I fear for her. Have I pushed her too far? Have I fucked everything?

But then Jax starts picking on his mandolin, and Rye starts up on the violin: go time. Whip ticks out a one, two, three, and Liberty explodes into action, hitting her mark with perfect precision.

Her voice is clear and utterly beautiful. It breaks my heart and makes it swell all at once.

Jax sings backup. And then it’s my turn to join in.

Libby and I harmonize. As she turns, the harsh stage lights set her aglow. She looks at me and smiles. Her joy is fucking incandescent. It sets me off, the surge of pure emotion stronger than anything I’ve ever felt on any stage.

Here is where she’s meant to be.

The song ends too soon. My need to kiss her is so strong it hurts. A vibrating roar of approval surrounds us. She beams as she takes her bow and exits. I don’t want her to go.

The rest of our show goes by in a blur until she returns for the last song. We’ll do an encore later, but for now, we’re ending with “In Deep.” It’s a love song with a sarcastic bent. Libby and I will play eighty percent of the song ourselves with the band coming in for the finale.

The second she’s back by my side, my body tunes into hers. Looking more confident now, she plucks the opening tune—light, playful.

I don’t face the crowd. I turn to her. I play and sing for her. And she sings back to me, her eyes shining bright. This. This is what it’s supposed to be about.

We finish on a lingering note, and then Libby and I exit. The rest of the guys will play on for a few minutes. I need those minutes. I want to talk to her, find out if she feels as amped as I do.

But Libby apparently has other ideas. She doesn’t look my way as she walks off stage, her pace so quick it’s practically a jog. Her hair whips around her head as she wrenches off her guitar and thrusts it in John’s waiting hand. I toss him my guitar as well, not slowing down. I’m so pumped, my heart races, my cock is a steel bar, bent painfully against my jeans. It wants out and in Libby.

But that’s not going to happen now.

Past working crew, loitering execs, and God knows who else, she moves, never stopping, not making eye contact with anyone. I don’t bother talking. She can’t outrun me—my longer legs keep me in pace with her frantic strides—and eventually, she’ll have to stop.

Right before she hits the ladies room, she announces in a loud voice, “I’m going to throw up.”

Shit.

She storms into the restroom, and I follow—like hell am I going to leave her to deal with this alone again. The second I step through the doorway, I’m caught up in a tiny whirlwind of hot female flesh.

Libby slams into me, knocking me back against the door. Her mouth is on mine before I can take a breath. Hot and wet and demanding, she devours me.

My restraint shatters. On a groan, I kiss her back. It’s a messy clash of lips, tongue, teeth. Fuck if my knees don’t go weak. I slump down the wall, my hands grasping her plump ass. With an impatient, angry little sound, she climbs up my body, wrapping her legs around my waist.

Lust rages through me. I spin her round and her body thuds into the door. My hands are sliding up her thighs, pushing between us to get at her core. “Jesus,” I grit out. She’s fucking soaked, wet thighs, hot, swollen pussy.

Her underwear snaps in my hands.

Libby whimpers, thrusting her hips into mine. “Fuck.” It’s almost a sob. “Fuck… I’m…I need…” Another sob breaks free, and she sucks on my lower lip, licks my mouth.

“I know,” I say, yanking at my jeans with clumsy hands. “I know.”

I don’t know how I manage to get a condom on. Blood rushes in my ears, and my heart is about to pound out of my chest. I’m in danger of coming. Our bodies, slick with sweat, slide against each other.

“Now, Killian. Now,” she breathes into my mouth. Her body shudders. “Oh, fuck, I need you now.”

“I got you.”

One hard thrust, and I’m halfway inside heaven. She’s hot as a furnace and so tight my eyes squeeze shut. Another thrust and she slides up the door with the force. Groaning, I grab her shoulders, pull her down onto me as I shove my dick all the way in. So fucking good.

Libby’s panting hard, her head falling back with a thud as she wails. Her fingertips sink into the nape of my neck. “More.” It’s barely audible. But I hear it.

I pump into her, mindless and driven with the need to fuck. My balls slap against her ass. My head sinks down to rest on her shoulder as I brace my arms on the door and pin her to it with the force of my thrusts.

The instant she comes, her tight channel milking me, I lose it. An orgasm rips through me so hard everything goes white. I stay there, ass clenched, body bowed into hers, legs shaking for one long moment. And then I release on a sigh.

Exhausted, I press my cheek to hers, and she cups the back of my head.

“Fuck,” I say, ragged.

She giggles, snorts, and turns her face into the crook of my neck. We both stand there, weakly laughing like loons, my dick still deep inside her.

The outside world returns too quickly, and I hear Jax’s voice, amplified over the mic, saying, “Goodnight, Boston!” Time’s up.

Chapter Eighteen

Libby

My little bedroom at the back of the tour bus is dark and cool, swaying slightly as we speed along toward Cleveland. Boneless and limp with exhaustion, I can only lie here and stare up at the ceiling. I’m too stirred up to sleep but can’t seem to make myself move.

Every second of tonight plays like a movie in my head. The blinding light, the darkness beyond. The way the crowd moves like a living thing. And singing, playing my guitar. It had been…everything. The high of my life. Transcendent.

I had no idea.

And playing with Killian? That was pure joy. I could have laughed like a giddy kid riding a coaster. I want that feeling again and again. And I want that release of pure heat and lust that came afterward, Killian’s thick cock driving in me, nailing me against the door. It was hard, fast, and everything I needed.