Backstage at the New Orleans venue, Dash is starting to vibrate again. Tessa has only seen this a couple of times, but she thinks she’s starting to be able to predict when it’s going to happen. When Dash is nervous, or excited, or both, he begins to get antsy. It’s like he’s bubbling with energy, and he doesn’t know what to do with it. Not until he’s out under the spotlight with a guitar in his hands.

“Come on, Squirt, let’s do some reps,” Harper says, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him off of the couch.

Dash digs his heels in and presses the side of his body up against Tessa’s squeezing her side.

“No!” he whines. “Don’t make me, please… I’m too young. I like being squishy. Tessa, tell her I like being squishy.”

“I wouldn’t call you ‘squishy,’” Tessa replies evenly. She’s in full work mode, so there’s no lust in her gaze when she gives his chest and stomach a quick once-over. She even crosses her arms across her chest so that there’s no possible way this could be considered sexy. It’s just her pointing out the obvious. Bantering, like the rest of them do. “Maybe ‘padded’ or ‘cushioned’ or ‘cuddly.’”

“This is what we get for hiring an English major,” Tommy says from where he’s sitting at her feet.

Dash doesn’t seem too worried about the fact that she’s pulled out so many synonyms for his body. If anything, he just grins wider. “These are all excellent… uh, verbs?”

“Adjectives,” Tessa, Tommy and Sersha say at the same time.

“Excellent adjectives,” Dash says triumphantly. “I must maintain my cuddly physique. Release me, she-devil!”

Harper shakes her head at him. “And what are you gonna do with all that energy, hmmm?”

“I just need my guitar. Where’s my guitar?”

Harper releases Dash, and he stretches over the back of the couch to grab an acoustic resting on the wall behind them. Tessa turns her head away, so she doesn’t have to look at the trail of dark hair that’s exposed when his shirt raises up.

At her feet, Tommy just snorts and chews on the end of his pencil, not off in his own little world for once. Sersha has her head in his lap, playing with her iPod, her earphones blocking out everything but the loudest noises. Tessa has noticed that Sersha has earphones in more often than not. Across the room, Slate is doing push-ups with Mikayla sitting cross-legged on his back. Mikayla is working on her tablet with the same grace as she would have had if she’d had her feet firmly planted on the ground, which just makes Tessa admire her all the more. Logan is reading over the set-list. His eyes keep drifting over to Mikayla and Slate, but he doesn’t seem to be frowning or anything, so he must have his jealousy under control.

Men…

She runs her hands over the keyboard of her laptop, feeling the bumps on F and J to remind her where to put her fingers, so she doesn’t have to look—a trick she picked up when she took that typing course in her sophomore year. She types a reminder to herself to make a time to talk to Harper, Sersha, and Mikayla. Tessa’s already agreed to talk to all three of them, but there’s nothing set in the agenda, and she thinks that Mikayla will appreciate her being thorough.

Plus, it will probably help to carve in some time away from the boys. They’re too distracting.

Dash strums the strings of his guitar a few times, playing chords that Tessa doesn’t recognize. They’re quiet and haunting. After a few moments, Logan looks up from his notes and grins at his brother. He starts singing along to ‘Scars’ by James Bay.

 

You’re setting off,

It’s time to go, the engine’s running

 

Dash grins back, picks up the volume of the guitar but maintains the pace. Slate starts clicking his tongue in a beat. If he hadn’t been holding both himself and Mikayla up, Tessa thinks he might have been tapping out a rhythm on his knee. Tommy starts humming a bass line.

Together, the four of them start performing the song as though they’ve been practicing it for years. They might have been, Tessa will have to ask Dash about it. But she gets the feeling that this is entirely improv. They’re just that in sync.

Tessa makes a note of that, too. The way that the four boys will spontaneously burst into song at a moment’s notice. It will be a good detail for her article.

At the end of the song, Mikayla finally climbs off Slate’s back, and Dash is still bubbling with energy. Playing with his band isn’t enough. Tessa can feel him still vibrating beside her.

“For fuck’s sake, Dash. Just do some push-ups,” says Harper.

“Never!”

“Hey, Dash… come for a walk with me,” Tessa says.

“Okay!”

He leaps up to his feet, coming inches away from sending Tessa’s laptop flying. Apologetically, he scoops it out of her hands and puts it carefully onto the coffee table. Harper gives Tessa a thumbs-up, and Tessa nods back. If Dash isn’t going to let Harper help him work off the energy, then maybe getting him out of the room and moving around will do the trick.

“Don’t forget… warmup set is over in about twenty minutes,” Logan says as Mikayla settles herself into his lap.

Tessa briefly wonders how she can look so professional and so in love at the same time. She really is in awe of that damn Mikayla Todd.

“We’ll be back before Lost in Time are done, don’t worry,” Dash replies. He’s actually throwing the reply over his shoulder as he grabs Tessa’s hand and all but drags her toward the door.

Tessa and Dash fly through the backstage. Dash is pulling her toward the stage, where the heavy beat and the crowd are getting louder and louder as she and Dash get closer. Tessa can feel the humming through her blood, and she thinks that this must be what Dash had needed. Sure enough, when they pass under a light, she sees the swift grin on his face and the bright spark in his eyes.

Dear Lord, this man, she thinks as she jogs along behind him, he is such a fucking dork.

But a complete heartthrob, as well. The kind of sexy dork that she could imagine using his wide, adorable sexy as fuck eyes to get anything he wants out of his sister-in-law and the rest of the band.

When they come up to the edge of the curtain, the music is so loud that Tessa wonders how the roadies’ ears aren’t bleeding. They’re just working away, stacking instruments and prepping coils of wire so that Black Lilith don’t trip when they come through. Dash takes a moment to admire the stage. Tessa sees the women from Lost in Time thrashing their heads and playing their instruments in an erratic, heart-aching beat. Dash is pulling Tessa away back through the wires and the heavy instruments, so they’re hidden behind the curtain at the back of the stage.

“Dash, where are we going?”

But her voice is lost in the heavy music beating so hard that it practically rattles her bones. Dash pushes her over to a ladder in the corner of the backstage area and points excitedly up at it. Tessa looks up skeptically—it looks like it disappears into the rafters of the stage.

Dash leans forward, reaching out to pull her to his chest and press his lips to her ear. “We’ve played this venue before. It’s so cool upstairs.”

He doesn’t need to shout, he’s so close. The fact that Tessa is attuned to his voice helps a lot as well.

His hands on her body and his lips on her ear sends Tessa into autopilot. Just like the time he’d pulled out the bottle of whiskey when he took her to his room. Suddenly, she’s aware of the fact that they’re completely alone, but in a semi-public place. Surely Dash won’t try anything here? She’s technically on the clock.

But then he’s pushing her back to the ladder again, and Tessa finds herself going, following his directions and climbing onto the cool metal rungs in front of her, grateful that she’d chosen to wear black slacks instead of a skirt.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this. I’m a fucking writer, not an acrobat.”

Of course, he can’t hear her.

When she gets to the top of the ladder, Tessa realizes that the music is quieter up here. The speakers below are all directed outward, so this space is relatively music free. It’s a metal walkway above the stage, well-hidden by the backdrop but high enough that people can hide and watch without being seen. It reminds her of those puppet shows she used to see at the circus. The ones where the puppet master would be standing above the ‘stage’ and manipulating his puppets from above. From here, Tessa can imagine dropping strings and controlling everything that happens on stage.

Then she looks out at the crowd and gasps.

It’s huge. She’s never seen something like this, especially not from the perspective of the main stage. This venue is no bigger than the arena in Chicago, but for some reason, the size and scope of the audience had escaped her when she was at that show. Now, looking out, she can feel a flutter of nerves, and she’s not even performing.

Dash stretches his hands over his head and smiles wide at the picture in front of him.

“I love this,” he says. He doesn’t need to shout to be heard.

“I can tell,” Tessa replies.

He looks at her, and for a moment Tessa feels her breath hitch because that excitement and adoration that Dash feels for the crowd is directed at her. She puts her hand on the protective railing in front of her and is surprised to realize that it’s vibrating.

“Hey, I was wondering about something,” Tessa says quickly, because now that they’re alone and Dash is in a good mood—why not? The thought that this might psych him out for the show crosses her mind, but Tessa dismisses it.

“Yeah?” Dash says, coming over to lean on the railing and then wincing and pulling away when he realizes that it’s vibrating.

Tessa doesn’t mind the movement, but she takes her hand away as well. It might be distracting.

“How… ah, how are you feeling? About… um… us? Am I, you know… what you hoped?”

Dash blinks hard the moment that Tessa starts talking, and she realizes that he’s pulling away slightly about halfway through her stammered questions. She sees it, she registers it, but it doesn’t quite hit until she’s finished talking. His right hand twitches like he’s running it over a fretboard, and his tongue comes out to wet his lips as he turns his gaze downward.

Tessa instantly feels a rock fall into her stomach for the split second that Dash is looking like that.

Then it’s like a light bulb switches on inside his eyes. He stops looking nervous and withdrawn. Instead, he cocks his head at her and gives her a long, slow smile. “Better,” he says, stepping forward and crowding her into the railing so she can feel the vibrations against her lower back. “You’re better than I hoped, Tess. You’re so fucking cute, but you’re also extremely sexy. And you like Star Wars.”

“Dash,” Tessa begins, because she thinks he might have gotten the wrong idea.

But then suddenly, he’s taking her by the back of the head and guiding her into a fierce kiss. Tessa can do little more than hold onto the front of his T-shirt and hang on for dear life as he plunders her mouth, wrapping his hand around her neck and pushing her into the railing so that her back is vibrating while her front is pressed against his.

She wants to pull back, to tell him that they’re in public, but just like last time she’s completely powerless. For all the dorky enthusiasm he’d had when they had been running through the backstage, he seems to have gone into his erotic, beast mode. It’s like he’s reached into her body and is pressing against all of her buttons, letting her know that he’s in control now and she’s just coming along for the ride.

She can’t even breathe, she’s so overwhelmed.

Dash leans back for a moment, and his eyes are dark. His pupils are so blown out that they’re black, and Tessa can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he looks down at her. He glances to the left, and then to the right, before leaning over and whispering in her ear, “Sit on the railing,” he orders.

What? Tessa thinks as her body moves before she can even give the situation conscious thought. Never mind that she’s hanging precariously above a sheer drop. Never mind that there are tens of thousands of people in the crowd beyond the stage. And never mind that a roadie could climb up here at any moment. If Dash wants Tess on the railing, then she is going to get on the fucking railing.

As soon as she’s sitting steady, the vibrations on the metal that she’d felt in her hand and lower back is transferred entirely to her lower half. She gasps. It feels intense, not quite like a vibrator because that would be more heavily focused on her clit. It’s an all-over alluring experience. Tessa strains and writhes, trying to get that sensual vibration to focus, only partly aware that her mouth has fallen open in a silent moan.

Her eyes lock onto Dash’s. He’s watching her with the kind of intensity that would be terrifying if it weren’t so erotic. He reaches down to hold her hips firmly, and at first, she thinks it’s just to tease her until she realizes that she’s so close to falling off of the edge.

Holy shit!

But before she can think anymore he slams forward, pulling her hair back with his fist and kisses her. It’s all tongue and all-powerful, and Tessa loses herself in the movements of his body against hers. He seems to be deliberately holding himself away from her, so she can’t grind against him like she would have liked to. Instead, she can only latch onto his thigh and press herself over and over, all needy. At this point, she doesn’t care if her movements send her falling, or if a roadie finds them because she needs to finish. She needs to be moaning his name at the finish line. Goddammit.

Dash pulls out of the kiss, and his gaze holds her. She can’t think of anything more intense than the sight of those eyes—fully-blown out pupils and all—looking at her. “Tess, let go and come for me, baby,” he growls pulling on her hair.

Tess can feel herself growing hotter, and wetter, the longer he stares her down.

She grinds against his thigh without finesse, and he allows it. He pulls her closer and spreads his legs a bit to give her better access. The part of Tessa’s mind that isn’t focused on chasing her obscene release, wonders why he doesn’t seem to be interested in getting off. Both times they’ve been together, he seems to consider his own pleasure secondary. He just likes watching her get off.

“Tess, let go,” Dash demands

Tessa presses her forehead against Dash’s. She’s close enough to feel his breath on her lips, far enough away so they don’t break eye contact. She can feel the feverish heat coming off of him. She can’t think or speak, and words have escaped her.

Then a wave of burning pleasure slams into her and her hips rock. She wasn’t expecting it so soon. Dash peppers kisses along her neck with one final bite to her shoulder as she moans out his name. He holds her steady while she chases her orgasm. Dash then reaches down and slides one finger inside her real slow, he’s looking up completely awed behind the dark passion that’s still burning behind his eyes. Sliding his finger out and running it along her clit one more time, he reaches up pulling her hair back with his other hand and smears his slick finger on her lips. “Open,” he whispers, not breaking eye contact.

Tessa never would have thought this could be such a turn on. She never would have thought a man could make her feel so weak, needy, and empowered all at once.

As she opens her mouth with a moan, Dash fills it with his finger and his tongue all at once, then they’re tasting her together as their tongues dance around his finger.

Oh my fucking God.

Finally, when the vibration intensity becomes too much, he helps her off of the railing.

“That was… fucking insane,” Tess manages to say still breathlessly.

“Mmhmm,” Dash replies licking his lips before pulling her in for another kiss. “You’re so fucking gorgeous when you moan my name,” he mutters against her lips. She returns his kiss as well as she can, with trembling knees while the crowd screams behind them.

It isn’t until much later that she realizes she never actually got to talk to him about whether they’re dating or not.