Joy Ride by Desiree Holt (bill gates best books TXT) 📗

“Wow.” She took in the scene as they edged their way through the mass of moving bodies. “I go to a lot of clubs, girlfriend, but they’re never packed like this on weeknights. No wonder people say this band is hot, hot, hot.”

Emma leaned her head toward Annie in an attempt to be heard over the din. “Let’s get a beer, and you can judge them for yourself.”

“A beer?” Annie stared at her. “I didn’t think you drank beer.”

Emma gave her a tentative smile, aware so much about her was changing. Things like the lure of the rock music, the way her body moved to it. Even to what she drank. All of it was new, both to herself and to her friend. “I guess I’m doing a lot of things I never did before. Come on.”

She had yet to look directly at the stage but the heavy sound of the bass guitar vibrated through the room and shimmied up through her body. While they were waiting for their drinks at the bar, Annie punched her in the arm and pointed at the wall over the array of bottles. Displayed in a glass case was a T-shirt, dark blue with a lightning bolt on it and the word Lightnin’ in script below it.

“You should get one,” Annie yelled over the noise.

“We’ll see.” But she could already imagine herself in it. Maybe she could wear it at Marc’s. Maybe with nothing underneath.

First you have to make eye contact with him and see if he’ll even talk to you.

They grabbed their drinks and slithered and wriggled their way to the front of the crowd. Only then did Emma allow herself to glance at the stage, and a bolt of what surely was real lightning shot through her. She nearly dropped her beer. Marc was standing there with one foot on the monitor just like when she’d first seen him, talented fingers moving along the neck of his instrument, hair wild and sexy. Dress jeans clung to his lean form, and he wore one of the band’s signature T-shirt like the one on the wall. The muscles in his arms flexed and rippled as he worked the strings of the guitar.

She closed her eyes for a moment and recalled the image of Marc gloriously naked in his bedroom. Feel again his mouth on hers, on her nipples, on the moist heat of her sex. The sensation of his cock sliding into her, filling her, stretching her. Shocked at the desire gripping her, she forced her eyes open.

And discovered Marc watching her.

Her stomach knotted, the butterflies hibernating in there exploding in a triple-time dance. The pulse in her womb hammered like a jungle drum and every part of her body suddenly turned to liquid heat. She couldn’t breathe and her chest was too tight. Was he glad to see her? Angry? Did he wish she would just go away?

Someone’s fingers pressed reassuringly on her arm and she heard Annie shouting over the crowd and the music.

“Holy shit, Emma. I’d go home with him myself.”

Emma grinned nervously.

“Just hang tight here,” Annie said, her mouth close to Emma’s ear. “Whatever it takes. He’s worth it.”

She looked directly at Annie, hoping her friend could read her lips because the sound was deafening. “What if I crash and burn?”

What if he ignores me or my courage fails at the last minute? What if I make the effort and he shuts me out?

Annie drew closer. “Better than not taking the ride at all.”

Maybe.

Emma couldn’t ever remember being this nervous, not even on the dreaded first day of school, or on her first real date. She rolled the chilled bottle of beer against her forehead, trying to take the edge off the heat blasting through her. Her eyes were glued to the stage, to Marc, to the fluid actions of his lean, muscular body, and the way his hair flew around his face with the movement of his head.

He wasn’t watching her now, instead lost in his music and the sexy rhythm of the bass. The song was high energy. Its throbbing tempo rocking the crowd. When Marc did a solo on the bass and everyone clapped in time to it, every nerve in her body vibrated in response. At the end of the song, the mass of people cheered and screamed for more and Emma found herself screaming right along with them.

Glancing over at Annie, she saw her friend was as caught up in the ambience and the energy as everyone else. Her body twisted and swayed, and her eyes were alight with excitement. She bumped her hip against Emma’s, grinned, and made an okay sign with her thumb and forefinger.

The crowd was already into the next song, and when Emma looked to the stage, she saw Marc focusing on her again. Every part of her body heated beneath his gaze, her core throbbed with an unfamiliar hunger, and her breasts felt heavy and aching. The memory of his hands and his mouth arousing her, his thick cock inside her, filling her, sent a surge of lust through her so strong it nearly brought her to her knees.

Ohmigod!

What was happening to her? And what would she do if he turned his back on her? She was anxious for the set to end yet at the same time she wanted it go on so she wouldn’t have to face her Guitar Man.

As if reading her thoughts, Annie squeezed her arm again and leaned sideways until her mouth was close to Emma’s ear.

“It will be all right. You’ll see.”

Marc was in the middle of a particularly complicated riff when Music Lady walked in. He was focused on his bass yet something intangible reached out to him. He chanced a peek at the crowd, and there she was. Just as delicious and tempting as she’d been Saturday night. He nearly lost his concentration, but he was a disciplined musician. He pulled himself right back into the music. Tonight she had a