I blinked up at him towering over me. “You’re ridiculous.”
There was a softness in his eyes when he said, “You’re beautiful. And we’re late.”
“Austin …” I just couldn’t. This whole thing was his idea, his money. I couldn’t take this.
I waved the bills in the air, as though it were a fan, flinging it back and forth in front of his face to take it.
“You’d better put it away before someone else steals that from you.”
I peered up at the surrounding crowd. Some had passed us by, staring at the wads of cash I had within my fingers. This was insanity times a million.
“I’m giving this to you later. I know you can’t possibly hold it in your wallet, so I’ll hold it for now.” I jammed the bills in my purse and clutched it to my body.
Security led the way to the back, to the concert area. I thought Austin was massive; these men matched him in height but were built like defensive linemen.
A deep voice rumbled behind me, “Mr. Callaway, this way,” Tim said.
Austin’s shoulders visibly relaxed now that we had security with us. “Thanks,” he said, addressing both of them. “I don’t think we’ll need too much ushering once we’re at the stadium. It’s just the back-and-forth, to and from the airport and out of this place.”
Heads turned as we walked down the hall. Austin was recognized instantly. People’s attention turned his way, and then their eyes would flash to me. I hadn’t even thought about it—the consequences of my picture being taken with Austin or what people would think.
The only person who knew of our arrangement was Serena and Brandy, and if Alec found out—
I stopped mid-step, and Henson held on to my arm.
“We have to keep moving.” His voice was thick and very Russian.
“I need a moment,” I said to no one in general.
Bad idea because we were on a busy walkway, still in the hotel but walking toward the arena. Random people called out his name.
“Austin Callaway …”
“How are you feeling, bro?”
The momentary pause had a few people congregated around Austin, asking for his autograph. Internally, I sighed because not once did he let go of my hand. He stepped in front of me slightly, putting me away from the others. And I swooned silently.
After signing a few autographs for his fans, he gave my hand a tight squeeze, as though he was never letting go. “I’m done with all this craziness. Let’s go to our suite.”
CHAPTER31
AUSTIN
The concert wasin full swing, the music blasting. I lost count of the number of bands that had played—seven, ten maybe? All the A-list acts ranged from rock, to pop, to country.
I’d rented out the open suite with a stocked buffet at the back wall of the room. In the front, we faced the stage below us with a railing that kept us from falling to the ground.
I knew the schedule of performances, so I knew that Def Deception—the band that Sydney had wanted to see live since college—hadn’t come out to play yet. They were one of the last on the roster—saving the best for last, you could say. I peered down below, past the railing to the rowdy crowds dancing to the music, glad that I had the means to pay for this private box. Crowds annoyed me, and right now, I was with the best company and had the hottest view.
Sydney was dancing, hands up in the air, hips shaking and ass bouncing. I gotta give my personal assistant a raise for picking such a form-fitting skirt that hugged her hips.
I was right behind her, beer in hand, watching her and drinking her up.
She had so much life in her. Singing and dancing like no one was watching, with no cares in the world. Why did she hold herself back from this freedom?
I set my beer on the table next to me and closed the gap between us, dancing behind her, my hands on either side of the banister, looking down at the crowd of thousands dancing beneath us.
My cock strained against my jeans as I pushed and moved against her, against the beat of the bass, the sound of the music Taylor Swift was playing on the stage.