Flame (Fire on the Mountain #2) (15 page)

“Why don’t I ever hear you guys then?” Dakota implores, her eyes darting back and forth between the couple. The embarrassment is rapidly wearing off and being replaced by what sounds like . . . pride? “Are you guys not
energetic
in bed?”

I stifle back a chuckle at the appalled expression on Gunner’s face. This may be the first time anyone’s ever questioned his enthusiasm or vigor in bed. Especially not a female. Emmy Sue still hasn’t been able to catch her breath, her chest heaving with the hilarity of the conversation.

“Dakota, sweet girl,” he shakes his head, feigning dramatic disapproval at her, “we’ve been trying to not scare you away . . . to give you a few days to acclimate to our lifestyle before we unleashed our true freaks.”

“Freaks?! Try bores!” Dakota exclaims, the corners of her mouth now tilting up as a naughty gleam flickers in her eyes. “You two are newlyweds, and I haven’t heard you a single time in three nights. If I were Emilia, I’d be rethinking my vows right about now.”

See? Dishing out as well as she takes it.

Without another thought, Gunner wraps his fingers around Emmy Sue’s wrist and yanks her up from the chair. “Come on, wife,” he mutters, dragging her to the back of the bus. “It’s been brought to my attention you haven’t been properly fucked in the last few days.” He stops right before they disappear into their room and turns to smirk at Dakota, who’s watching attentively. “Take notes, Sunshine.”

Seconds after the door closes, erotic noises from both of them begin to fill the cabin as Dakota and I swap intense stares. A light sheen of sweat emerges across my forehead as the temperature inside suddenly spikes. Her rosy cheeks are no longer stained with embarrassment, but instead, they’re now burning red with untainted desire.

Are you pleased with yourself?
I ask silently.

Pleased?
Pulling her plump bottom lip between her teeth, she bites down on the pink flesh and shakes her head.
Not yet. That’s your job.

She pushes the dishes from the now forgotten breakfast to the side then pulls her feet up into her seat. Unsure of what she’s doing at first, I stay where I’m at, my dick twitching with anticipation in my basketball shorts.

Carefully, she crawls up onto the table to where she’s sitting with her butt on the flat surface, facing me. Her legs dangle in my lap, not so accidentally brushing back and forth over my erection. Slipping first one arm, and then the other, out of the spaghetti straps of her pajamas, the thin cotton falls to her waist, exposing her perfect boobs right in front of my face.

Please me, Hulk.

Unable to resist the temptation, I lean forward and draw one of the taut nipples into my mouth, licking and sucking enthusiastically as my fingers begin to torture its twin peak. Curving into my touch, she starts making the sexiest fucking noises, loud as fucking hell to be sure they hear her too. This only spurs me to do more. So much more . . .

“Fuck yes, James. Oh, my God, that’s it. I want to come all over your face. Fuuuuck!”

Less than five minutes later, she’s laid out on top of the table, stark-fucking-naked, screaming my name, while I drink from her soft, swollen pussy. Gunner and Emmy Sue are still going strong in their room, and the combination of hearing them and tasting Dakota’s sweet honey coating my tongue, I’m about to explode in my fucking shorts.

If anyone were to walk by the bus right now, they’d think we’re shooting a porno in here, and I haven’t even bothered wondering where the driver is. For all I know, he’s upfront, jacking off while listening to the four of us. But I don’t fucking care. I don’t fucking care about anything except burying myself into Dakota’s tight little cunt while I kiss her sassy mouth. Possessing her. Claiming her. Taking every fucking thing she’ll give me for as long as I have her.

It’s all I’ve thought about since the moment I’ve met her. And even now that I’ve had my way with her, from Colorado down to New Mexico, and then across Texas, I still can’t get enough. I don’t plan on stopping until I’m forced to say goodbye after New Orleans, and I can’t think about that yet. Not fucking yet.

Unfurling my long legs, I stand and gaze down at her lithe body, still squirming with post-orgasmic bliss. In one swift motion, I cradle her into my arms and carry her to our bed, where I fuck her until we both collapse with exhaustion. This wasn’t quite what I had in mind for my morning workout, but it’ll certainly do.

THURSDAY, JUNE 21

“I DIDN’T THINK GUNNER WAS
being serious about getting a hotel,” I confess to Emilia, thanking the valet attendant for holding the door open as I slide out of the front seat of the Suburban. Following her up the front steps to the Adolphus Hotel in downtown Dallas, I dare to ask, “Is it really because I’m too loud in bed?”

Shaking her head with a snort of a laugh, she waits for me to catch up before going inside. “No, silly. This stay was already planned. We’ll be here tonight and tomorrow night. Shows both nights, plus two public appearances for the guys tomorrow afternoon. We’re back on the bus Saturday morning for Austin and Houston, and then once we land in New Orleans next Wednesday, the last five nights will be in a hotel. That’s when things will get crazy. Radio shows, interviews, parties, you name it. It’ll all start running together.”

“I’ll go wherever you tell me,” I reply with an unconcerned shrug and an easygoing grin. It already was all running together. “You know I’m not big on the schedule. I didn’t even know we were in Dallas until we passed a billboard back there that said so. I’m just along for the ride. ”

“And the sex,” she teasingly adds as we enter the air-conditioned lobby. “I know you love the sex.”

Naturally, at that exact moment, all other noise in the room fades out and her last comment echoes loudly through the regally decorated space.
I know you love the sex . . . love the sex . . . love the sex . . .

The bald doorman, the cute young guy behind the front desk, the elderly couple waiting by a pillar, and a few other stragglers in the vicinity all stop what they’re doing and stare directly at us—two young girls in cut-off shorts and flowy tank tops, sunglasses pushed up on our heads, and flip-flops on our feet. And now they all know I love the sex.

Doubt I’ll shake that label before we check out.

Not surprisingly, all the male staff is suddenly eager to assist us, and before I know it, we’ve each got a glass of wine in our hands as Kelvin—according to his fancy nametag—whisks us away for a guided tour of the Dallas landmark on the way to our rooms. Stories of poorly dressed American presidents being refused entry to the restaurant, room service mix-ups with British royalty, and opulent tapestries worth more than mansions fill up the walls of the completely-over-the-top-but-still-cool-as-shit historic hotel. It doesn’t really strike me as a place Levi and Gunner would want to stay—a little stuffy and stately for guys who play in the dirt all day. But what in the hell do I know? I’m chill with whatever.

At the end of the tour, Kelvin delivers us outside our neighboring doors on the sixth floor and gives us the standard hotel spiel. “Ladies, your luggage has already been delivered inside your rooms. If you have any questions or concerns, or if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call down to the front desk. Also, please feel free to make good use of all of the hotel’s amenities—the fitness center, three dining venues, and a pool at the neighboring athletic club. All we ask is that you don’t wander up to the nineteenth floor.”

He offers his dimpled smile one last time before spinning around on his heel and making his way back toward the elevators. “Enjoy your stay.”

“What’s on the nineteenth floor?” I call out after him for no other reason than sheer curiosity. I don’t like being told not to do something without a good reason.

Stopping dead in his tracks, he pauses a noticeable amount of time before answering, “It’s under . . . renovation. Permanently.” Another pause. “Google it.”

Without another word, he continues striding forward, and at the end of the hall, he turns the corner, without ever looking back. Emilia and I stand in the hallway, staring wide-eyed at each other for a split-second before scrambling into our rooms and powering up our laptops.

“Haunted? You’re joking, right? I’m sure the guy was just yanking your chain.”

Levi and Gunner wear matching skeptical expressions as Emilia and I share with them everything we learned about the off-limits nineteenth floor of the Adolphus while they were meeting with their manager earlier this afternoon.

“No! We’re completely serious!” Emilia insists as I nod my agreement, popping the last bite of a cheeseburger into my mouth. “It’s been documented over and over again, all over the internet,” she continues. “Some jilted bride, who was left at the altar by her pussy-ass fiancé, hung herself in the grand ballroom, and now, her ghost lives on that floor.”

“People claim that every night she plays the big-band music from the reception that never happened and dances around the floor while crying,” I add, embellishing a little about the dancing and crying. I’ve always been an excellent storyteller . . . which is totally different than a liar, by the way.

Gunner rests back against the headboard of his hotel bed, where we’ve all gathered for a late-night meal. Neither of the guys are sold on my and Emilia’s idea to do a little late-night exploration. Much to our dismay. “Baby,” he reaches out and pats his wife’s hand, “Levi and I are exhausted. All day during those boring-ass meetings with the Donovan’s and then throughout the entire show, the only thing I’ve thought about is you, me, and this super comfy hotel bed.” Glancing over at me, he smirks. “But I am pleased to see we have connecting rooms, so we can continue to convince Sunshine of our endless amounts of
energy
.”

I stick my tongue out at him as I crumple up the greasy wrapper covered in golden arches and toss it into the trashcan. I’m always the last one to finish eating. It never fails.

“I think they’re scared, Em. Why don’t the two of us go alone?” When I question their manliness, they’re unable to refuse the bait, and just as I hope, they bite.

“We aren’t scared,” Gunner argues.
Hook.

“And y’all aren’t going anywhere alone this late at night.” Protective Levi makes an appearance. “It’s after midnight.”
Line.

“Come on, dude. Let’s just go check it out. You know they’re not gonna stop pestering us until they get their way.” Gunner comes through like a champ.
Sinker.

Ten minutes later, the four of us enter the elevator shaft, equipped with flashlights and a couple of backpacks filled with supplies that Emilia and I went out and got. My finger trembles slightly as I extend my arm toward the bank of circular, numbered buttons and punch the number nineteen.

“Going up,” the electronic voice announces, and my pulse responds.

The mirrored doors open a short time later, and oh-so-cautiously, we empty out of the elevator and onto the allegedly haunted floor. Every hair on my body stands at full attention as we tiptoe through the dark hallway, doing our best not to run into the random pieces of furniture scattered about.

“So where’s this ghost lady supposed to be?” Levi whispers, looping his finger in one of my belt loops and tugging me back to him.