He took my hand as we walked to his car. “Lover Boy was heartbroken?”
“No. I told Clint. They’ve got a big bash organized for the night. A DJ is about to come on. He was disappointed.”
“You made quite a sacrifice to come with me. I’m glad, though.” He stopped walking and gazed into my eyes.
Making light of his sudden intensity, I said, “I can’t have all those girls jumping all over you. And you were pretty horny earlier.” I raised an eyebrow.
He laughed. “As much as I’m dying to fuck you, I do possess some control.”
He wrapped his arm around my waist and drew me tight to his big body, and we moved as one.
Lachlan parked the car at the back of his gig’s venue.
He opened my door, and taking my arm, he helped me out.
“I am capable of doing this myself,” I said, releasing his arm gently.
“Are you offended?” He frowned.
“No. I like it. It’s just strange. That’s all.”
“Good. I like doing it,” he said, smiling.
I waited for him to collect a bag from the trunk, then we walked toward the venue hand in hand.
Noticing a huge line waiting at the door, I said, “This is popular.”
“It’s Saturday night. And there’s no door charge.” He smiled tightly. “It’s also a bit trashy. Not like the Red House. And there are often fights.”
“Oh. The men brawl?”
“And the women.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re looked after. I’ll place one of the guards close. In that dress, you’re sure to get propositioned.” He stroked my arm. “I know I’d proposition you if I didn’t know you. You’re beautiful.”
“You can still proposition me,” I said with a smirk.
“Ah, role playing. Sure. If that’s what you want. I’ll do anything to get into those red panties.” He drew me close, and my nose settled on his hard chest, where a whiff of him made me swoon.
“You don’t have to do much.” I sighed.
He kissed me on the lips, and as he withdrew, he said, “Oh, I plan to do all kinds of things to you.”
Desire burned through me as I fell into his devouring gaze.
We entered through the back alley, and after the security guards let us in, we walked down a dark hallway and entered the band room, where a motley bunch of musicians sat about, drinking, smoking weed, and laughing raucously.
“Ah… Ginger Baker’s in the house,” one of the men said.
“Ginger Baker?” I asked.
Lachlan saluted him and said quietly, “He’s a legendary drummer.”
There was so much I didn’t know about the rock scene. My father had been into folk music, and my mother lived in the dark ages, listening only to opera and musicals, the type of music no one in our neighborhood listened to. Harriet used to plead with her to turn it down. But on special occasions, if my mom exceeded her sherry limit, she ramped up the volume and sang along, much to our horror.
Lachlan grabbed his drumsticks and a drum pedal from his backpack. “I’m going out there to set up the kit. Do you want to come and watch?” He touched my cheek affectionately.
“Sure.” I didn’t feel like breathing smoke. And I was already feeling lightheaded.
A guy started to pass Lachlan a joint, but he declined.