“I don’t care if you think it should be orange! Simone hates orange lights on her! They wash her out. Now change it to hot pink, with red and yellow accents, for variety.”

The lighting engineer mutters, “Sorry, Sarah,” running back to his station while I take quick strides backstage in the other direction.

We’re at the Staples Center’s concert hall in Los Angeles, and when I drove up in the Porsche Simone rented for me, fans were lined around the block.

Flying into her dressing room I discover her cross-legged on the floor in meditation. She opens one eye. “Calm down, Sarah. You look very stressed out.”

“Calm down!? Over thirty-thousand people are here, most of them wearing a t-shirt with your face on it!”

“So?”

I start laughing like an insane person. “And the fucking engineer wanted to project orange lights through the gobos!”

With a voice of pure serenity she offers, “And you stopped him, because that’s what you do.”

I stare at her, face going blank. “I liked you better before you went all Zen.”

She cocks an eyebrow and closes her eyes, facing front and holding her gorgeous neck long and centered. “Well I didn’t. Now let me get back to meditating. I have twelve minutes.”

On a half-laugh, I mutter, “Okay, do your thing,” and head outside, closing the door a little too loudly. “Sorry!” I call through it and head off, checking my phone for how long it is before she goes on.

She was right, it was twelve minutes. And now it’s eleven. But how she knew that is beyond me because she removed the clock from her dressing room saying it made her focus on the wrong things in life.

Because I’m not looking where I’m going I run right into Jason. “Hi!”

My head flies up and my jaw drops. “What are you doing here?”

He smirks, “Surprise!”

I jump into his arms and he swings me around, kissing me like crazy as he slides me down his body. “Oh Jason, I’m so glad you came!”

“Usher wanted to see the show so we paused working on his album and flew over…wait for it…in his private jet.”

“Oh my God, you lucky bastard!”

“Plus he wanted to see his dancers do their thing.”

“It was very nice of him to refer them to us since he’s not touring.” Just as I say that, Rue and Jenna come running over in the cutest red-leather pants and grey halters, plus Converse sneakers made with special grips for sliding on the stage.

“Sarah! Thomas is puking,” Rue blurts out, then, “Hi Jason.”

Jenna explains, “He got drunk before the show. I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck,” I groan, searching for a solution since we’re moments away. “Okay, tell all the girls to adjust the formation to make up for his absence. Have Becky do her backflip on the left side of the stage where he was supposed to be. Hell, maybe it’s better this way since he was the only guy.”

“Okay!” they say in unison, taking off.

Turning to Jason, I demand to know, “Why can’t things go smoothly?!”

“When it’s chaos backstage, the show is great.”

“Right. Thank you. Okay. I’ll go get her.”

I turn for Simone but the door opens and she glides out looking more like a star than ever, hair and makeup perfect. Tiny leather dress that’s hot as fuck. Heels that might kill her. Everything is as it should be.

“Katy Perry, watch out,” Jason smiles.

She grins at him with the first sign of true excitement shining from her. “Damn straight. Let’s do this.”

We stand back and let her pass us for the stage, following her. While she waits out of sight, her gaze remains on the floor.

My heart starts pounding like a motherfucker. Jason and I grab hands as we have on many occasions since her album exploded, two songs hitting number one. Just For Me stayed there for eleven weeks!

The male announcer’s voice booms through the speakers, “And now…Simone. Ross. TAYLOR!!!!!”

Deafening applause and screaming erupts. Simone lifts her head and steps out onto the stage.

I can’t stop shifting my feet.

As the dance beat picks up speed, dancers cartwheel and backflip onto stage. Hot pink, red and yellow lights flash over them at the right time. Behind everyone on a huge white screen is a close-up movie of Simone’s performance for the people in the back of the auditorium to see her better.

Jason smirks, “See?”

I whisper back to him, “Nobody likes a know-it-all.”

* * *

With everyone partying in the larger of the two greenrooms after the show Jason motions for me to follow him. I excuse myself from talking to two men from Simone’s label and quietly exit the room.

“What’s up?” I smile as I walk up to him.

He’s on me so fast I gasp, pulling me behind curtains and slipping his fingers under the hem of my skirt. It’s hitching up on my legs and we’re so close to everyone I can still pick out some of the conversations. “Jason, stop,” I moan, as he bites my neck and growls into my flesh. “Someone might come.”

“The only person cumming is gonna be you,” he murmurs in my ear as his fingertips slide under my thong. “Fuck, you’re wet already.”

“With the way you’ve been watching me, how could I not be?”

“You feel so good,”

I lace my fingers into his hair, moaning, “I’ll never be able to show my face around these people again if they find us.”

“Bullshit,” he growls. “No one gives a fuck. I just have to touch your pussy, Sarah. It’s driving me crazy.”

He always says he loves seeing me in action when I’m working. He calls my quick-thinking hot and sometimes throws impossible problems at me to see if I can come up with a solution.

I rub my pelvis against his dark blue jeans, feeling the heat of his bulge and lifting my chin for a kiss. Our tongues slip on each other as he strokes my swelling folds. The ache becomes a throb when he groans in my open lips. Glancing behind us quickly, he pushes the curtain and finds it’s got a wall behind it. “Good,” he growls, pushing me against it, hiking up my skirt and unzipping his jeans.

“Holy shit, we can’t!” I whisper, eyes hooded with lust as he slides two fingers inside me.

Panting in my ear he rasps, “I’m going to fuck you backstage, Sarah. With other people right over there. Can you hear them?”

I moan into his neck and bite him hard. He hisses through his teeth, lifting me up to straddle his narrow hips. One of my feet hooks around his tight ass, the other around his thigh. Rock hard he enters my wetness, hoarsely whispering against my lips, “Fuck you feel so good. So tight. See how hard I am for you right now? How much fucking you in secret is turning me on?”

I moan and accept his tongue while he starts thrusting, stretching my walls as he dives deeper inside me. We’re trying to be quiet, keeping our panting as low as we can.

Two voices get louder as footsteps exit the greenroom. Jason freezes and we go very still. Then he starts to move really slowly in and out, as the voices head past us. If whoever that is turned right and looked behind this curtain they’d see us.

The fear heightens my pleasure, I start undulating a little faster.

Jason locks eyes with me, and I can see it’s the same for him.

We smile a little at each other as the people stop walking, arguing about food.

“There are a ton of taco places. I want authentic Mexican food.”

“No, burgers tonight! I need iron.”

The tingles drift through my pussy as Jason keeps fucking me in silence while they’re right over there.

“There are burger places within walking distance. The Yard House is right there!”

“Do they have tacos?”

I almost start laughing, but then Jason’s cock thickens and he looks at me in such a way that brings me to the brink.

The footsteps pick up again and off they go. “I know for a fact that they have tacos. And french fries.”

“Ooooh, I love french fries.”

Grinding my hips into Jason, he’s deep as he can get.

I throw my head back and explode on his cock.

He locks his teeth onto my neck, his body jerking as he cums inside me, fingers clawing into my ass and thigh.

We move together, drawing the orgasm out until it’s over.

Deeply kissing me he carefully sets me down and pulls a tissue from his pocket.

On a low, sex-filled chuckle, I whisper, “You came prepared.”

“Excuse the pun.”

“Oh, that was terrible!”

He laughs under his breath, “It really was.”