Color me impressed. He has more guts than I do. No way would I sing in public. Cats fighting under a full moon sound better than me.
I shift in my seat, leaning forward, then plopping back, as Gray pulls out his phone and gets ready to film, all the while going on about hell freezing over and Dex leaping into the deep end of the crazy pool.
Maybe I should put a stop to this?
Dex takes the mic and slowly walks up the stairs to the stage.
There’s a ripple running through the audience. They’ve recognized him too.
Shit on a popsicle stick. He’s going to hate this.
My fists clench as he takes center stage, his head bent, his hand clutching the mic tight.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I’m halfway out of my chair to stop him when the music starts. I recognize the opening notes. He’s picked “Gold on the Ceiling” by The Black Keys.
“Bold choice,” Gray mutters.
My heart is pounding so hard, I can barely breathe.
Then Dex starts to sing. And I swear my jaw hits the table.
Gray’s and Ivy’s do too.
“Holy shit,” Gray says before he leaps to his feet, his fists punching in the air with a loud whoop. “Dex!” He shouts, jumping up and down as the music thrums.
Because Ethan Dexter is bringing the house down, singing the song like he fucking owns it.
His deep, raw voice rolls over me, and my nipples go so tight they hurt. I get on top of my chair and holler my approval, dancing along to the music, singing the refrain with the rest of the crowd.
As for Dex? He holds the mic with two hands, his eyes closed, his thick thighs parted. One leg bounces in time to the beat. Tatted and bearded, muscles flexing, he’s so damn hot, the women in the crowd scream for him.
He doesn’t seem to notice.
Then his eyes snap open, and he zeroes in on me. That smug bastard grins as he belts out the lyrics, telling us all it’s all right if we want to steal from him, that there’s no guard in his house. But I know he’s talking to me. Waiting for my answer.
I grin back, my body swaying, my hips snapping. I’ve been to countless parties, clubs, and concerts. I’ve had boyfriends and one-night stands. I’ve grown up around fame. And it isn’t until now that I truly realize how bored I’ve been, going through the motions. Maybe that’s how life is; you kind of just plod along, fall into a nice little rut until something comes along to shake things up.
Dex doesn’t bore me. Not even close. Life is never a slogging road when he’s around.
He ends the song with a sweeping bow, tosses the mic to the operator, then hops down, headed straight for me.
Sweat gleams on his brow, plasters his shirt to his chest. People slap his shoulders and back, try to give him high-fives, including Gray, who is beside himself with glee. Dex doesn’t slow, doesn’t break his stare.
Every cell in my body seems to zing, making me twitchy with want and joy.
When he’s a couple of steps away, I launch myself at him, and he catches me. My legs wrap around his waist as I cling to him, find his mouth, and take it.
Cupping my ass, he holds me tight against him as his tongue slides deep.
We’re both breathless when we part.
“I knew you were playing me,” I say against his mouth.
He’s laughs, low and unrepentant. “I never said I sucked, just that I didn’t like the attention. Told you I wouldn’t fight fair, Cherry.”
I nip his lower lip. “Take me home, and let’s get to popping yours, Big Guy.” He stills, and I lean back to look up at him. “That was lame, wasn’t it?”
Dex shakes himself as if waking up. His grip on me tightens. “Not sure. Is that a yes to my question?”
My fingers thread through his hair, still knotted at the back of his head. “I won’t lie to you either, Ethan. Despite my…er…outspoken ways, I don’t actually like being in the public eye. I had too much of that growing up.”