Devil Riders: A Biker Erotic Romance - Plot & Excerpts
When they’d arrived he’d made a scene about me playing with him and his band. That was bad enough, but for the last 45 minutes he’s taken every opportunity to slight me. I’m a professional so I hold my tongue, swallow my pride, and do my part. The Drillers aren’t a bad band for a bunch of amateurs, but they aren’t nearly as good as Jack seems to think they are. “We’re going to close out our first set with one of our favorites,” Jack announces to the small crowd that has pretty much ignored us all evening, “I think y’all know this one.” Looking at me, he adds loud enough for the mic to pick up, “Try to keep up.” I purse my lips in annoyance. Nobody belittles my talent unless they’re better than me. This asshole isn’t. We rip through Devil Went Down to Georgia and finish to a smattering of applause. The Drillers take their bows and begin to step down from the small stage for a break. I make no move to follow and keep my seat behind my digital piano.
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