As she pushed through and onto the sidewalk, she heard him calling out to her and the thump of his footsteps.

She knew she had to get away.

Luck was with her. A taxi was dropping off a fare right in front of the building, and she slid into the back seat just as Sebastian crashed through the door.

She felt like a bank robber making a clean escape.

Only the wetness of her panties reminded her that tomorrow, there’d be hell to pay.

Chapter Four

Baz watched the cab drive away, frustration and lust eating away at his stomach like acid.

He wanted to punch the wall but knew from experience he’d only bust his hand, and then he’d be frustrated, horny, and in pain.

And he wouldn’t be able to play the piano or his guitar.

Still, he couldn’t help but aim a swift kick at the brick wall in the hallway after he retreated inside.

Shit.

He’d fucked up. Bad.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he headed back to the viewing room and threw himself down on the couch.

He tried to watch the band but all he could see was Tru on his lap. All he heard was the sound of her moaning as he made her come and the feel of her soft lips crushed under his.

What the hell had he done?

Nothing she hadn’t wanted.

Christ, he hoped that was true.

Damn it, it had to be. She could’ve pushed him away at anytime. He hadn’t forced her. Sure, he’d seduced her, but there was a difference between coercion and seduction.

And he hadn’t held her down. No, he’d pulled her over his lap, and she’d followed his lead. She hadn’t pushed him away. She’d pulled him closer.

Fuck.

He wanted to continue what they’d started. Wanted to unzip his pants and pull her over his lap again so she could ride him. As it was, his cock throbbed like a sonovabitch. Ached with unreleased lust.

Jesus, how had he not realized how hot Tru was under that tight-ass, virgin-queen exterior?

And now that he knew, how the hell was he going to not think about having his fingers inside her while she came every time he saw her?

He wanted a drink. A stiff glass of good whiskey. He hadn’t craved an artificial means of relieving his tension in a couple of months, but right now he seriously wanted alcohol.

He got to the bar but Gina and the guys were wrapping up their set and he had no excuse not to go down and say hi. Xander wouldn’t have told them he was here but he couldn’t not see them.

And you need the distraction.

Pushing all thoughts of Tru to the back of his mind he headed downstairs.

He passed a few people who did double takes, then he gave a wry grin to the bouncer at the backstage door.

The guy, who looked enough like Xander that he had to be family, said, “Sebastian Valenti, right? Xander said you might stop down. When’s Baseline Sins coming out with new music, man? Loved the last album.”

He should’ve been getting used to the question by now. Shouldn’t have continued to feel so much damn guilt. Holding his smile, he gave his standard answer. “Working on it.”

The guy’s smile appeared completely genuine. “Good to know. Your fans miss you.”

Baz took that like the hit it was, straight to the heart. He bumped knuckles with the guy as he opened the door and let Baz through.

Chaos still reigned backstage as the crew loaded out the equipment. He skirted around the hardworking roadies and headed for the green room.

A few of the guys looked twice then clapped him on the shoulder or nodded and said hi. Thankfully, no one stopped to talk because he didn’t know what he’d say.

As he got closer to the door, he remembered that Gina had called him after he’d gotten out of the hospital. She hadn’t been the only one but she was one of the few who’d called several times.

And he’d ignored her every time.

Just like he’d ignored his bandmates. Ignored Nik.

Shaking his head, he stopped at the door, hearing the din of several voices speaking at once.

Laughing, swearing, ribbing. All of them on a typical after-show high.

How bad of an idea was this? Gina and the guys partied. The liquor would be flowing, and there’d be recreational drugs being passed around. He hadn’t allowed himself to be around anyone who could tempt him to use anything harder than alcohol.

Tonight probably wasn’t the best time to test his resolve but, goddamn it, he needed to prove to himself that he had a fucking backbone.

Lifting his hand before he talked himself out of it, he knocked on the door.

A split-second later, the door flashed open.

“How much do we owe— Baz? Holy fuck! Baz!”

A second later, he found himself bear-hugged by one of the last people he’d expected to see.

He would’ve recognized the guy anywhere since he’d known him since sixth grade. Of course, he’d never seen him with a beard that looked like he was auditioning for ZZ Top.

“Zach. Jesus, what the hell are you doing here?”

His Baseline Sins bandmate didn’t release him right away. Instead, he hugged him tighter. And Baz’s arms went around Zach’s back and hugged him just as tight. Clung might have been more accurate.

He didn’t give a fuck. Christ, this felt—

Behind them, someone started screaming his name, and suddenly he was surrounded.

Gina got to them first, ripping him away from Zach and squeezing him until he wasn’t sure he could breathe.

“How the hell are you? Did you just get here? Did you see the show?”

He hugged her back then turned to shake hands with the rest of the band.

Every one of them actually looked happy to see him. And none of them gave him the look. The one his parents had given him every day for two solid months after he’d gotten out of rehab. The one that wondered if today was the day he’d fuck up and nearly kill himself. Again.

“Yeah, I was here for the whole thing. Even caught some of Joby and Kyle’s set.” The young brothers fronted the band who’d opened for Gina and the guys. “You sounded great.”

Gina’s smile lit the entire room. “Fuck yeah! Of course we did.”

Baz smiled back as the conversation became raucous, obscenity-laden chaos.

“You fucking shredded that solo in ‘Gravity Bends,’ man. I swear that guy in the front row fucking came in his jeans when you let him finger your guitar.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t all he tried to finger.”

“Did you see the girl halfway back? She had her shirt up most of the damn time. I thought you were gonna trip over your tongue.”

“Jesus, her tits must be one of the world’s greatest works of art.”

“Yeah, her doctor gave her fucking bazookas.”

The band still buzzed with energy from the concert and alcohol flowed like water, although he noticed Zach held a Red Bull and not his usual beer.

Gina kept glancing at him but didn’t ask anything he couldn’t answer. By now, they all knew what had happened, but no one brought it up and for that he wanted to kiss them.

He wasn’t ready to talk about those fucked-up months just before and immediately after his near-miss overdose. Especially not with so many people. If it’d just been Zach . . .

He turned to face his bandmate and found him watching him intently. Zach smiled when he realized Baz had caught him staring. He looked at Gina, who gave Zach a smile that made Baz’s eyebrows lift.

Well, damn, when had that happened?

He’d been out of the loop too long. But he knew he wasn’t ready to jump back into the lifestyle. Not yet.

When?

His chest tightened, and he had to swallow to push down the spurt of panic.