The Forbidden Beat (A Stepbrother Romance) by Jillian Sterling Read Free Book Online Page A

spun around and glared at
the two of us. "Slow. It. Down," he mouthed.
    "Follow my beat," I shouted at Rafe over the
instruments.
    Dion jumped into an extended improvised guitar solo and
crossed to Rafe. He shouted something in his ear. Whatever he said caused Rafe
to stop playing. That left it up to Dion and me to finish out the solo, while
Rafe pulled himself together.
    Being behind my kit felt like home, and my confidence
soared. Dion stepped in front of me, his nimble fingers stroking the fretboard
and his facial expression intense. He held my eyes and I lost myself in the
beat. He licked his lips and nodded his head, egging on the intensity of my
playing. With Dion's muscular guitar riffs and the pulsing drive of my drums, a
familiar ache worked its way into between my thighs. My breath quickened, and I
squeeze my kegels together, imagining Dion pounding me like I pounded on my
drums. I shifted forward in my stool, pressing my clit into the leather stool.
The vibration from the music traveled up to the seat, sending delicious quivers
into my sex.
    Dion's eyes burned into me, and he pulled his guitar away
from the front of his body, showing me the bulge growing in the crotch of his
tight pants. He knew exactly what I was doing, the response in his jeans said
he liked it.
    I closed my eyes and picked up the beat, and Dion followed
my lead. The crowd went wild with the increase in speed. Their cheers were
intoxicating. I pressed my nub harder into the stool, the friction of my cotton
underwear against my clit made me groan in pleasure. Was I really about the
come in front of 500 screaming Rogue Nation fans?
    Rafe's bass kicked in and he took the tempo back down. Our
duo was over. I hit the final beats of the song, dropping my sticks as Dion's
guitar screamed out the final riffs.
    "How'd you like our new drummer?" Dion called out
to the crowd. They went bananas again, screaming and chanting "Rouge
Nation" over and over again. I barely caught my breath when we jumped
right into the next song.
    After a 50-minute set plus three encores, we finally exited
the stage. Devlin tossed me a towel and I wiped my sweat-drenched face and
chest.
    "Kick ass set, guys" he shouted, before dropping
his voice to talk to me. "Way to work that crowd, kid. You had them at
that first song. You're going to hate me for saying this, but you and Dion play
damn good together. Musically, at least."
    I gulped water from a bottle one of the other roadies handed
to me and ignored him.
    "Not bad, rookie," Rafe said, bumping my shoulder
with his own.
    "Next time, Rafe controls the beat," Dion growled
as he stormed past me.
    "What the hell are you talking about?" I said,
chasing after him. "His beat was off, even you knew that."
    "But Rafe's the one that controls it. I don't give a
shit if he's off, you follow him."
    "Dude," Rafe started. "I was too slow out of
the gate. And the crowd wanted it fast. You saw their reaction."
    "You call the rhythm out there, not her," Dion
barked. "That one-up-man-ship out there was bullshit. Rafe calls the
beats, I control the crowd. You follow our lead and keep quiet."
    "Like a good girl?" I sneered.
    "Exactly.
    Jett and Presley pushed through the backstage crowds while
Dion disappeared into them.
    "Oh my god, your playing was kick ass," Presley
cried, pulling me into her for a hug. Her extraction was speedy as soon as she
felt my sweat covered skin and filthy clothes rub against her. "Maybe
shower first, then hug."
    Jett opted for a no-less-enthusiastic fist bump. "You
rocked it, kid! And pulled Rafe out of the shitter. What the hell was up with
his beat on that song?"
    "You even made Dion's guitar sound good," Presley
added with a snort.
    "It was hot," Jett agreed. "The crowd ate
that shit up."
    Presley pulled me by the hand towards the exit. "You
got to hurry up and shower, Nik."
    "Can I get something to eat first?" I asked,
eyeing the catering set up. Drumming was a workout and I was starving.
    "We're invited to some