Grant led me closer to the front. Towards the stage. I felt my palms getting sweaty as we approached. I could see light from the arena on the other side. Out there were thousands of women who would kill to be where I was right now, and I had a feeling I was the one they’d be more than happy to kill.

Then again I hadn’t been ripped to shreds earlier when he pulled me up on stage so I suppose that was a plus.

The crowd was chanting. Grant pulled me over to get a quick look out on the stage proper. Far enough back that we couldn't be seen, but close enough that I could see the crowd. Women shrieking and screaming for the band to do another song even though it was obvious they were done. The lights were coming on overhead in the universal concert signal for “go home, nothing to see here.” That could have been me stuck out there worrying about the traffic I was going to have to sit through and dealing with ringing ears from music I didn’t care for. Only that wasn’t happening because I’d run into Grant and got backstage tickets.

Funny how life works out.

"All those women out there screaming for you," I said.

It was wild thinking about that. All those women wanted nothing more than to see Grant. Maybe get up close and personal. And here I was the one girl in the entire arena who didn’t even care for the band and I was the one back here with him. Like I said, funny how life works out.

Grant came up beside me and shrugged. "Occupational hazard."

He grinned as he looked down at me, and I saw him look me up and down . That quick look sent a thrill running through me. How could I have ever thought this guy was gay? There was no mistaking that look. Then again he had gone with that strange expectant look at the diner rather than jumping straight to the eye fucking that he was treating me to right now. If he’d opened with this in the diner instead of waiting for me to recognize him then things would have gone very differently.

Not necessarily in a good way either. I probably would’ve turned into a babbling incoherent mess even if I didn’t know who he was.

I felt something that made me jump even as it sent a thrill through me. Grant's arms snaked around me and his muscles pressed against my back. I closed my eyes as an involuntary shiver ran up and down my body. Damn he felt so damn good, and his body was still so very hot from being out onstage. The heat seemed to radiate off him in waves and it was causing a heat to rise between my legs in counterpoint to the feel of his body against me. Damn!

And this was the lead singer of a band I’d deliberately avoided for years doing this to me. It was like my body was committing the ultimate betrayal, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it. There wasn’t anything I wanted to do about it. No, I wanted to stay like that with him pressed up against me and a crowd chanting his name in front of me forever. It was a quiet moment, but it was something that was going to stick with me for the rest of my life just as much as that moment on stage with him serenading me.

He did one better than just pressing against me though. His other arm wrapped around me and then his entire body was pressing against me. I froze, unsure of what to do. Unsure that this was actually happening. Sure there was the whole pop star thing he had going for him and that was nice and all, but more than anything I was just a woman with a hot guy pressing against her, not quite believing my luck.

Only the rock hard and sculpted muscles on his chest, his stomach, pressed against me were all too real. And then, holy shit, I felt something else that was rock hard pressing against me. Except it was pressing against my ass as he pulled me against him.

I felt a fire raging in my pussy where his cock was obviously connecting with my ass. Where he was grinding against me. Not even bothering to be subtle about it. And why should he bother to be subtle? This was Grant Thompson, we were backstage at a concert he'd just rocked judging by the women still screaming out there. He could have his pick of any girl out there and yet he was grinding against me.

I think that more than anything else was what did it for me. His status as the star of the show meant he could quite literally go out to any girl screaming in that crowd, a crowd probably filled with girls way hotter than me, and they’d come running at the snap of a finger. Maybe even at just a look. And yet despite having that power, despite having that choice, he was pulling me against him instead.

It defied explanation. I was nothing special. Not really. Yet here I was. I couldn’t deny what was happening when the rock hard evidence was right behind me!

I took in a quick breath, so quiet that I didn't think it could be heard over the roaring crowd outside, but he was close enough that he could feel it. He laughed a low laugh behind me. And he pressed against me even harder. To the point that he was practically dry humping me with the only thing preventing us from being seen by everyone out there was a few feet of scaffolding that hid the backstage area from the screaming throngs.

"You know I could have any girl I wanted out there," he said.

I shivered again. Was that a little egotistical? Sure, but from his tone he was just making a plain statement of fact. A plain statement of fact that I knew was absolutely true. And he was grinding against me for some reason.