“He screamed like a little girl,” Kara said.
“The hell I did!”
She sent Candace a wink. “Just kidding. He was one of my silent, stoic ones. Got a pretty good flinch out of him and that was about it. Now tell us how it really felt.”
He laughed. “Shit. I wanted to scream like a little girl. If I hadn’t already had the PA part done, I probably would have screamed, curled up in the corner and cried for my mommy.”
“You, sir, are a good man,” Janelle said, lifting her drink in his direction. “If only more of you were willing to torture yourselves in the name of getting us off.”
“Don’t paint me as too much of an altruist,” he said, his gaze lingering on Candace. She drew a deep breath, meeting his gaze directly, unflinching. Too often its intensity had chased her own downward. No more. There was nowhere else she needed to look but at him. For a moment, he seemed to lose his train of thought, and she felt a rush of pure feminine triumph. “I get plenty of benefits myself.”
In their hometown, among their families, Brian was the offbeat. Here, in this breathtaking crush of colorful bodies, it was her. As they’d entered the main gates and she’d stopped to stare in astonishment, he had chuckled and said, “Welcome to my world.”
She’d never seen anything like it before in her life.
She was sore, she was sweating, she was exhausted, she was nearly deaf, and she was having the time of her life. She’d seen every kind of tattoo conceivable (but when she’d made that remark to Brian, he’d replied, “Uh, no. You haven’t.”). Every hair color that could possibly be imagined and some that couldn’t. She’d watched fights break out. She’d witnessed security pile on top of troublemakers, wrestle them to the ground and escort them out. She’d helped someone crowd surf over the top of her head and she thought her finger was broken from the experience. She’d seen two girls making out. Later, one of them had tried to pass her a joint, but Brian had promptly waved it away.
Always, he hovered protectively at her side, shoving moshers away from her, sending threatening looks to the guys who ogled her or—God forbid—tried to lay a hand on her.
The bands were amazing. She didn’t know who half of them were, but electricity filled the air with each new stage set-up as fans anticipated the next set. Music rumbled and thundered over the speakers even between sets as the crowd thinned and loosened a bit, people leaving to get more drinks or food. But when the first bone-rattling riffs of the next band split the air, the crush was back, tightening, frenzied, feverish. There was nothing to do but go with the never-ending flow of bodies as she was pushed and pulled by the crowd.
She would’ve thought something like this would make her panic. It might have, if not for one startling revelation: she belonged here. In this sea of people, she felt actual acceptance. They were all here for one thing: to forget their problems for a while, to let the music become their world. No one knew her or where she’d come from or what she’d done. They were just like her. And all the while, Brian was with her, watching out for her. Every time she looked at him, he was looking back, a little grin lingering on his lips.
Darkness fell. By now, the wedding was over and her family was cursing her name. Once, she’d seen Brian check his cell phone, and her heart had leapt into her throat. What if they called him? Naturally, after last night, they would check with him if she went missing, wouldn’t they? Especially Michelle; she surely still had his number.
But he’d simply shut the phone and slid it back into his pocket.
Now, rainclouds were gathering overhead and there was electricity in the air as the crowd awaited Korn’s set. Candace’s feet and calves ached like crazy and more than once she’d envied the people who had seats, or the girls who were perched on top of their boyfriend’s shoulders. She didn’t dare ask Brian if she could do that. She’d figured out if you took up that position, you were more or less expected by the crowd to flash your boobs at least once. Not happening.
The lights went out, plunging the stadium in utter darkness except for the stage, and the roar from the crowd was deafening. Candace joined, but her voice died in her throat as she felt Brian’s arms encircle her waist from behind and his lips move next to her ear.
“This place is about to go apeshit,” he warned as the crowd surged and propelled them forward. At that moment, she was glad for his arms locked around her. The last thing she wanted was to lose him in the dark.
His shirt was gone. He’d long since stripped it off and shoved half of it in the waistband of his long black shorts. With his damp, nak*d chest pressed in tight at her back, she wanted to groan in ecstasy…and might have actually done it, since he probably couldn’t hear her, anyway. The desire to turn around in his arms and kiss him was overwhelming. She imagined flinging off her own top and letting their bodies slide against each other. But she couldn’t very well do either of those things right now, and it was pure torture.
Bass thundered across the sea of people like a storm blowing over the ocean, and the crowd rippled and roared accordingly. She was so short she couldn’t see much over the guys in front of her, but she could glimpse the band members as they pounded out the riffs that whipped the audience into ecstasy.
It couldn’t be her imagination that Brian was lowering his head a bit, nuzzling his face against her hair. They were getting jostled so much, it was hard to tell. But her breath began to rasp through her lungs. His arms were as impenetrable as steel around her, not allowing for even a centimeter of space between them. She leaned her head back against the solidity of his chest, hoping she wasn’t wrong, hoping…
Ohh, yes. He trailed his lips down the side of her face. She closed her eyes and trembled in his embrace. His mouth slid lower, to her throat, and the fingers of one hand danced over the strip of bare flesh at her midriff. The other hand pulled her so close her bottom dug into his groin, where he was hot and hard and straining for her.
He still wanted her. “Want” didn’t even begin to cover what she felt for him. Answering moisture pooled between her legs, and her thighs quaked. She was desperate, aching, oblivious to any and everything else but the need to take him inside her. To give herself to him completely, no more holding back. No more running away.
She cast a quick glance around at the crowd cramming them together—everyone still transfixed by what was happening on the stage—and coaxed his hand higher, letting it slide under her shirt. Even in this tumult of sound, she heard him groan, felt the breath of it against her neck. Once his fingers met the expanse of damp flesh under her shirt, she didn’t have to push him anymore. Both hands crept upward until her br**sts were fully encased in his big palms, and she tilted her face upward to the sky, only for a cool, solitary rain drop to sting her cheek.
It felt so good, so good, and she almost didn’t even care if anyone was watching them. His fingers kneaded gently, soothing the arousal making her br**sts feel heavy, and her n**ples pebbled against his hands. It amazed her how every part of her responded to him in some way. Her br**sts. Between her legs. Her mouth flooding with the taste of desire. Her hands shaking, her knees becoming liquid. Was there any part of her he wasn’t master over?
He nudged her head around for a kiss, his lips hot and damp against hers, as bigger raindrops began to sprinkle over them. She couldn’t get close enough this way, and it nearly broke something inside her. The rain landed in cold pinpricks on her feverish skin. She needed more of it, or more of him, to douse these flames before they could incinerate her.
Their lips separated, but lingered between light, brushing kisses, the two of them breathing each other’s breath. She looked at him, watched the lights from the stage flicker over his expression, in the dark depths of his eyes. There was a whole other world in there, she thought, and it was hers to explore forever if she would stop being so afraid. She was going to try to do that. Starting tonight.
Chapter Fifteen
Candace could feel the cool solidity of Brian’s truck fender beneath her ass as he pressed her against it. The sweet, tender burn of his lips across hers, the familiar taste of his mouth…but voices—namely Ghost’s—kept cutting through the haze of pleasure enwrapping her.
“Hey, you did realize that Korn actually got onstage tonight, right? And they kicked ass? Did you actually f**k out in the audience? That’s pretty hot, I guess.”
Brian laughed, letting go of her lips but not moving any farther away or looking anywhere else but at her. “Shut up, man.” Candace admired him for his ability to still speak. Or even breathe. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists against his chest to keep from running her hands all over him. His skin was warm and still dewy from the rain.
“Leave them alone,” Kara scolded, sounding tired. Candace glanced over to see her and Marco in each other’s arms as well. Kara’s hair was plastered to her face, and Candace could only imagine what her own looked like. “Brian, you guys can have one of the guestrooms to yourselves, you know.”
Her heart plunged to the pit of her stomach at those teasing words.
“I ain’t sleeping on no floor,” Ghost proclaimed loudly. “One of the beds is mine, f**kers.”
“You’ll sleep where I tell you to sleep.” That was Marco, and from the sounds that ensued, the two guys engaged in a friendly scuffle.
It all seemed to be such good fun, but all she could focus on was Brian as he kissed her again. His hands. His lips. His tongue in her mouth. His knee between her legs, pressed hard against her crotch. It was the only thing keeping her from climbing him right here. She was aching so hard it was all she could do not to start thrusting her h*ps against him.
“Let’s figure something out before these two combust,” Kara declared, reeling her man back into her arms. “Are we going clubbing or what?” A chorus of yeses went up, but Candace noticed none of them were hers or Brian’s. “Bri? I’ll give you the keys if you want to head back to the house. It sounds like we’re going out.”
“Let’s go back to your place anyway,” Starla said. “I’m gross. I need to change.”
Only then did Brian pull away and look at the others, which left his neck exposed for Candace to nibble on. “I think we need to crash somewhere else, actually. Sorry for the change of plans.”
“Hey, no problem, totally understandable,” Kara said amidst the whooping that followed his statement.
Brian turned back and slid his lips against Candace’s ear, whispering, “Is that okay?”
She nodded weakly, feeling how ragged her pulse had grown. Alone with him for the night… Her blood felt thick in her veins, pooling heavily in all the places that were pressed tight against him. Brian’s lips slid around her earlobe and tugged gently. Every muscle in her body went rigid. She flattened out her palms and smoothed them over his chest, circling one of his nipple rings with the tip of her middle finger. She knew it would make him groan in her ear, and she wasn’t disappointed.