Myrna knocked at the "Staff Only" door behind the stadium. A large man pulled the door ajar, blocking its opening with his broad body.
"Can I help you, ma'am?"
She'd had nothing to wear but professional attire, but being called ma'am smacked of elderly lady and set her teeth on edge.
"I'm a guest of Sinners."
He gave her a "yeah, right" look and consulted a paper attached to his clipboard. "Name?"
"Myrna." She coughed. "Myrna Suxsed."
He grinned at her. "You must have a lot of sisters. There are half a dozen girls with that same last name on my list."
She cleared her throat. "Indeed."
He stepped aside, handed her a backstage pass with her fake name on it and pointed her down a corridor. People stood outside doors marked with the names of the opening bands. Most of the hall-dwellers were young women who looked as expected. Wearing a black bra as a shirt seemed to be the norm. Myrna pretended to fit in, but she stuck out like a sore thumb. Every person she passed stopped talking in mid-sentence to gawk at her. Perhaps she should have bought some blue jeans. She hadn't thought wearing a suit would be a big deal. Uh, wrong.
When she spotted the dressing room marked Sinners, she smiled. She'd be safe from the glares of rabid fans once safely inside. Right?
She knocked on the door and someone pulled it open. Expecting to see only the band members, she found the dressing room filled wall-to-wall with people and didn't recognize anyone. She slipped inside and closed the door. As she made her way across the room, looking for anyone who looked remotely familiar, she got a lot of double takes.
"Myrna!" Eric called. "You made it."
She cringed as he sprinted across the room and lifted her off the floor, her arms trapped at her sides. His height threw her off guard, six-four maybe, but rail thin. She hadn't realized how damned tall he was until her feet rose nearly a foot off the ground.
"Put me down."
Eric spun her around, kissed her loudly on the temple, and set her on her feet.
A young woman wearing black lipstick grabbed Eric's arm. "Who's she?"
He smacked the girl on the ass. "None of your business. Go get me a beer."
And off she went without protest.
"Where's Brian?" Myrna asked.
"He's getting all dolled up for the stage. I can look like crap. I sit behind the drum kit. But he's front and center so he needs to look beautiful. Do you want a beer?"
"No, thanks. And you don't look like crap." She smoothed the lock of crimson hair that rested against his neck.
"Does Myrna have a crush on me?" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side.
Someone snapped a picture.
"Hey," Myrna called after the guy with the camera and squirmed out of Eric's grasp. "Hey, I didn't say you could take my picture. Hey!"
A black T-shirt over a hard-muscled chest appeared before her. She paused. Too tall to be Brian. She glanced up and her knees went weak.
"Sed?"
His lips curled into a self-satisfied smile, but she couldn't see his eyes beneath his dark, mirrored sunglasses.
He fingered the backstage pass she had clipped to her suit lapel. "Hello, Miss Suxsed. Good to see you here."
"Y-you look… different." Hot was what she meant, but she didn't want to turn into one of those blubbering fans prostrating themselves at his feet. He had half a dozen of them in tow as it was.
"I can't believe you wore a business suit to a metal concert, Professor. I think your balls are bigger than mine."
"Not possible," the blonde to his left said and snorted at her own joke.
"Master Sinclair is in the bathroom." Sed jerked his head in the direction of a door toward the back of the room. "He needs the quiet before a gig, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind seeing his muse for a few moments."
"Thanks, Sed."
"Who was that?" the blonde asked Sed.
"None of your business. Go get me a beer." And off she went without protest. A brunette took the empty place at Sed's side.
Myrna picked her way across the room. She spotted Jace in the far corner getting his hair fashioned into spikes by a roadie with a huge tub of green hair gel. Trey had two suckers in his mouth and a girl on his knee. The incredibly attractive young man sitting next to him had his hand on Trey's thigh, but Trey didn't seem to notice. He waved at Myrna when he saw her. She waved back, stopped in front of the bathroom door, and knocked.
"Occupied," Brian's voice came from the other side.
"It's Myrna. Can I come in?"
The door opened. A hand in a fingerless, leather glove grabbed her forearm and tugged her inside. Brian wrapped her in a tight embrace. She buried her nose in his leather jacket at his shoulder. God, he smelled good. In the three hours since she'd last seen him, she'd actually missed him. Not good. She had to say good-bye to him in a couple of hours.
"I'm glad you made it," he murmured.
His hard body trembled against her. She leaned back to look at him and she couldn't help but gape. Heavy black eyeliner surrounded his eyes.
"You're wearing more makeup than I am."
"Do I look like a pussy?" Staring into the mirror above the sink, he barred his teeth at his reflection to make himself look mean.
Myrna hugged him from behind. "No. As always, you look sexier than should be allowed by law."
"Are you going to arrest me?"
Her hand slid down to cup his package through his pants. "No, but I might have to punish you."
Brian caught her hand. "Don't get me worked up now," he said. "I've got to be on stage in thirty minutes and I can barely walk as it is."
She chuckled. Her hips and legs had gotten quite a workout today as well. "I know the feeling. Is that why you're trembling?"
He shook his head. "Typical preshow jitters. I'll be fine once I'm on stage."
He tugged her around his body so that she faced him. She leaned back against the sink and accepted his tender kiss.
"I'm glad you came," he said. "I had it in my head that I'd never see you again."
"I wouldn't miss this show for anything. I might not look it, but I'm your biggest fan."
"I like this suit." He fingered the top button of her blouse. "Do you have your garters on underneath?"
"If I decide you're worthy, you might find out after the show."
"Now there's an incentive. I better get warmed up. My fingers are stiff."
"Will you kiss me first?"
He rested his hands on the sink on either side of her hips and leaned forward to claim her mouth. Like a struck match, she ignited with need. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers intertwined with the hair at the nape of his neck. Normally soft, it was now stiff and sticky with hairspray and gel. She felt she had access to two undeniably sexy men in one. The real Brian she'd spent the day with—a ten out of ten. And this rock star version, Master Sinclair—another ten out of ten. They were the same person, and yet totally different.
Pulling away slowly, he opened his eyes to pin her with a sultry look. "I'll play something for you on stage."
"What?" she asked breathlessly.
"You'll know."
Leaving Myrna leaning against the sink, Brian opened the bathroom door. Some girl with black and purple hair was instantly in his face. "Master Sinclair! Finally. I've been waiting to see you for-like-ever!" She grabbed his arm and hopped up and down. "Oh my God, I loooooove you. Can I have your autograph? Pleeeeeease."
He scarcely glanced at her as he signed the insert to a Sinners CD that she'd handed him.
The girl looked over his shoulder into the bathroom. "Who's that?"
"None of your business." He handed her pen and CD insert back to her. "Go get me a beer."
And off she went without protest.
Myrna laughed. Brian glanced at her over his shoulder, an eyebrow quirked at her. She shook her head at him, still grinning. How easy would it be to get a superiority complex with these fans racing around to fulfill his every request?