Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
God, this is going to be fun, in both the best and worst ways.
Since I’m finally becoming familiar with the lyrics, I start singing to myself, and as the lyrics resonate with my marketing brain, I pull my phone out and jot down new ideas, never having felt so in my element.
The show goes by quickly, but with every passing minute, my nerves skyrocket until my whole body is visibly shaking.
It’s not too late to pull out. Actually, it’s definitely too late to pull out. It was too late to pull out the second I slipped laxatives into Stacey’s and Jessica’s water.
The thought makes a ridiculous witch-like cackle bubble up my throat, and as if on cue, I watch Stacey and Jessica exit the stage and give each other a strange look. Stacey scrunches her face, her hand clutching her stomach, and Jessica does what she can to maintain her composure, but in an instant, it’s game over.
Horror washes over both of their faces, and I hold back a laugh as they each take off in a dead sprint toward the bathroom.
God, this is fun.
Phase one of the plan complete. Now on to phase two.
I stand in the wings as Ezra sings “One Day” to his captivated audience, and with every word that pours out of his soul, the most brilliant warmth spreads through my chest. The song comes to an end, and by the time a roadie moves the chair to the middle of the stage and Ezra lowers himself into it for the sexy part of the show, my nerves are shot.
Hooooooly fuck. What have I done?
The music shifts as the boys start the intro for the song “Scarlett Rose,” and after leaving myself no choice, I let my coat fall to the ground, leaving me in nothing but a pair of heels and a black, skimpy lingerie set.
I slink out of the wings and onto the stage, the same way the dancers do. I pass Dylan, and finding the courage, I glance up at him and have to smother my grin as he gapes at me in horror. His eyes are wide with shock, and as he flicks his gaze between me and his unsuspecting lead singer, the shock morphs into silent laughter.
He shakes his head, knowing shit is about to go down, and not a moment later, he turns toward Rock and gets his attention. My gaze shifts toward the drummer, and I almost lose my composure as Rock’s eyes all but fall out of his skull. His face twists with disgust, clearly not pleased with seeing someone he considers a little sister in her underwear about to seduce their friend, but just like Dylan, the laughter is there in his eyes.
I resist the urge to tell them to look away because what they’re about to witness is not for the faint of heart. Jett, on the other hand, looks more than happy to watch the show.
Ezra’s gaze remains glued on his captive audience. This part of the night hasn’t been his favorite. He doesn’t like when the dancers are all over him, but the producers insist. The first night, he played along, but since the moment he realized just how much I hated it, he’s done the bare minimum during this portion of the show.
Tonight though, it’s going to be different.
He doesn’t bother looking my way, expecting Jessica to sneak up on his left, and as I finally reach him, my fingers dance across the back of his shoulder blades. I walk behind him, taking my time as the crowd manically cheers. Most of them know my face, and the hardcore fans know there’s history here, and me being Axel’s little sister, they know that whatever is happening right here is a big deal.
I watch him, up close and personal, as he lifts the microphone to his mouth, and when his deep voice fills the stadium, I lean in, letting my hand trail over his shoulder and down his chest. My lips linger by his throat and as they brush across his warm skin, his body stiffens.
A wide grin pulls at my lips, and I kiss him there, rolling my tongue over his neck. “Hey rockstar,” I murmur by his ear. “You ready for a show?”
Ezra’s gaze snaps to mine, shock in his dark eyes, but all I can do is smile as I slowly step around him, watching the realization dawn in his penetrating stare.
His brows arch, and as the music goes on, I turn to face the audience, dropping down right in front of Ezra as my hand disappears between my legs, just like I’ve watched the dancers do night after night. He has no choice but to sing, and the shift in his tone is everything.
He’s in trouble, and he knows it, and if he’s not careful, the headlines in the news tomorrow aren’t going to be about what an incredible show it was, they’ll be about how the lead singer of Demon’s Curse couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.