Bonedust

wolf suddenly alert and aware, and his nostrils flared. “Wait.” The one word rumbled from him as he raised a hand. Parker stopped first, but then they turned, looking to him. He took another breath in, want making him damn near crazy. She’d appear, any minute now.
    Zane was content to wait.

    ***

    Just one night.
    Just one blessed night without having to listen to the screams of the crowd, of raging fans and groupies alike, shouting the guys’ names like it would make a difference this time, like it would make High Velocity look their way. It was driving her damn near crazy.
    Once this tour ended, so did she. Figuring out how to tell the band wasn’t something that she particularly looked forward to, but it had to be done. Tonight.
    Charlie Banks stood and surveyed the area, enjoying the slow decline in volume around her. She had to be vigilant until the final member of the crew reported that they were clear for the night. Having been with High Velocity since they’d started climbing the ladder of fame, she knew the guys in and out and knew almost all the tricks that fans would try to get in close with “their idol.”
    Her normal schedule was to stand guard backstage, keeping up communication with the other members of security detail, to just ensure that everything ran smoothly. But something about tonight had taken its toll on her. Her feet ached, her head hurt. She just wanted to go home and take a long, luxurious soak in the tub. She could almost smell the flowery scent of her favorite bath salts…
    While Zane, Micah, Parker, and Benji had had their fun on stage as usual, she’d spent the evening flashing her badge and foiling the groupies’ plots. People attempted just about anything in desperation to get a single touch from one of the guys. Some nights it seemed like five hundred pizza delivery girls showed up to give a specialty pie to whichever band member they deemed the most worthy of laying them. Ha—the little hussies would screw any of the guys if given half a chance. Fans weren’t exceptionally picky.
    Charlie’s mental tirade ended on an abrupt note when her ear piece buzzed with a message. “Touchdown, Char. Stadium clear.” Her shoulders nearly drooped with exhaustion, but instead she straightened, braced herself, and headed to her next task—to be briefed by the boys as to where they were going, with who, and when they’d be back. She was the shepherd and they were her sheep.
    God, she was only twenty-seven years old and she played babysitter to a group of rich brats. Okay, so she actually liked them—most of the time—but after a show, when their adrenaline ran rampant and the voices screaming for more still echoed in their eardrums, she loathed every one of them.
    Shrewd blue eyes scanned the crowd and zeroed in on the quartet, still coiled together in a little pack. Good, they were gonna make it easy on her. The wolf inside of her tensed and tugged for freedom. More and more often, she’d been having a hard time fighting the animal down until she could shapeshift and have a little relief. The physical pain was punishment as well as motivation to give her notice to quit, to go live her own quiet life, away from sexy smiles and ripped bodies that she’d love to spend licking every inch of—
    Whoa. Back up the lick-train, what was wrong with her? Why, all of a sudden, did the very idea of screwing Mr. “I’m Sexy and I Know It” appeal like nothing ever else had?
    “Hey, Lieutenant Uptight! Come give us our orders. I’ve gotta go get my party on!” came Parker’s catcall from across the room, his hands cupped around his mouth.
    Charlie felt her wolf bristle and bunch up. She wanted so badly to snarl and assert her dominance over the snot-nosed little wolf egging her on. With copper curls and an ever-present smirk, Parker Wilde was the youngest member of the group and took joy in annoying her in more ways than one. Charlie allowed it because he was part of the reason for her paycheck.
    As she marched towards them, the once-crisp double polyester suit she wore now clung to her curves in an irritating, itchy manner. She was hot, sweaty, and ready to go home. Well, as “home” as a trailer could be while travelling through the states on tour.
    “Hello Parker, it’s nice to see you too.”
    Her gaze grazed over the group. She tried her best not to look directly at Zane, the leader of the band, but she was drawn to him, a moth to a wicked flame. With sun-kissed skin,