Free The Seduction Game - Rock Star Edition by Nicole Jennings Page A

for it.”
    “He’s not my type anyway,” she says with a
shrug and bobs her head to the music letting her onyx hair fly. If
she were not my best friend I’d be jealous of her flowing locks.
Instead, I throw my arm over her shoulder and dance with her.
    Gyrating bodies jostling together for a
closer position to the stage, push the temperature close to ninety
degrees. The stench of sweat and alcohol permeates my senses.
    Perspiration forms on my Rock Star’s forehead
and strands of his mussed hair begin to adhere to it. Yet he
remains charismatic on stage, pouring his heart out into his music.
His hands fly over the guitar strings like they are lovers. He
knows every inch of her body and knows how to make her sing.
    About the time that I begin to regret wearing
a corset style top, Amy lifts her hair from her neck and fans
herself to cool down. I place my frosty cold glass on her neck and
she coos in response. “Oh that’s amazing. Keep going.” She waves
her hand in encouragement.
    “Me next.” I turn my back to her and pull my
hair off my neck. The cold sensation of the glass off my burning
skin makes me shiver.
    “He’s watching you,” She leans in and
whispers in my ear. The stage lights are off and he has backed away
from the microphone playing a build-up guitar solo. I pretend not
to notice, lowering my eyes and draping an arm over Amy’s shoulder,
we sway with the music. Somehow I must control my breathing as my
heart pounds against my chest with a nervous excitement.
    Every time the stage lights are focused
elsewhere, he is focused on me. Try as I might to not look at him,
I keep drowning in the depths of those blue eyes.
    “Let’s move.” Amy grabs my arm and pulls me
away from the side of the stage and into an opening in the middle
crowd. “Shall we see if he can find you?”
    My eyebrows furrow in response and I glance
at the stage, he’s no longer focused on anything. I’ve lost him and
he’s lost me.
    “Sarah stop, he can’t very well pursue you
from stage, but we can make him look for you.” She grabs my hand
and twirls me around causing an instant smile to pop up on my
face.
    “That’s a good girl, now be sexy and stop
pouting.”
    It takes far less time than I would have
guessed for him to find our new position. He also repositions
himself on the stage, now directing his attentions to the center
crowd.
    “You’re right, you’re always right,” I
confirm. No guy is going to invite a crazed fan into a private part
of his life. We can’t be seen at the front of the crowd for too
long. He’s seen me, gotten a taste, had to look for me, and now
it’s time to disappear.
    He needs to feel like he’s hunting a bit
himself. If the prey lies down and says “eat me,” the thrill of the
chase is lost. Amy raises an eyebrow when I chuckle at my own
inside joke.
    One final glance at the stage and I notice
the Rock Star has removed his button down shirt. Now he is left in
a tight, wet, sleeveless shirt. One arm is completely covered in
tattoos, and I can clearly see that his square chest is also
inked.
    He makes a move to throw his discarded shirt
into the crowd and the female audience screams and shifts toward
his direction. Someone elbows me in the ribs as she clamors for the
chance to grab his sweat stained shirt.
    My knee high three inch high boot heel comes
down hard on her foot in retaliation but she’s already solving her
way through the crowd.
    “What are you doing? I like this shirt, do
you really think I’m going to toss it away?” The Rock Star teases
the crowd. The wife beater clings to his abs and reveals a
delicious v of muscle dipping into his jeans.
    Holy mother of God.
    For the first time all evening, Amy and I are
left in a relatively clear section of the dance floor. “Come on,
let’s go get a refill,” I wave my small empty glass at my friend
and she nods.
    “Sounds like a good idea, my ears are
starting to ring from this bass.”
    “What?” I