Sinners On Tour 01 Backstage Pass (3 page)

BOOK: Sinners On Tour 01 Backstage Pass
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“So are you real y a fan of ours?” Eric asked Myrna.

“Yeah, for years. Even before you made it real y big. I use snippets of your guitar music in my classes to discuss male sensu…”

She glanced at Brian, her eyes widening as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.

She never finished the thought, because Jace decided now was a good time to break his regular silence. “She even knows al of our names.”

Looking relieved about the subject change, she pointed to each of them in turn. “Eric Sticks−drums. Three bass drums, fourteen cymbals. He does it with perfect rhythm.”

“Every time,” he said, tapping the table with his palms.

“Sedric Lionheart. Lead vocals. The sound of his voice makes the ladies cream their panties.”

Sed leaned closer to her and said in his signature, baritone growl, “Yours included? I could sing a few bars, if you like.”

“That’s entirely unnecessary.”

“Ah, you’re kil ing me, Myr.”

She grinned deviously. Brian wondered what he’d missed while he’d been worshiping the porcelain god. Just like Sed to move in for the kil immediately.

She continued, “Jace Seymour. Bassist.” She paused, contemplating the newest member of their band.

“Hey, don’t I get a byline?” Jace complained.

Myrna leaned across Sed and beckoned Jace closer. She whispered something in his ear and he flushed to the roots of his bleached hair. “Seriously?” he sputtered.

She stared into his eyes and nodded. “Seriously.”

Now that was just wrong. What had she told him?

“Trey Mil s. Rhythm guitarist. Dreamy green eyes to melt hearts. Nimble fingers to, wel , get a lady’s thoughts going in al sorts of inappropriate directions.”

Trey winked and wriggled his fingers at her.

Her eyes moved to Brian. “Brian Sinclair.” She paused. Brian’s gaze focused on her pouty, pink lips. He wondered how many of her male students sat through her class with wood in their pants. Captivated, he waited for her words. A slow smile spread across her lovely face. “A musical genius.”

No way! He didn’t get something sexy said about him? He might melt under the heat of her gaze, however. She wanted him. He’d been around enough women to know that look. Why had he drunk so much? He was in no condition to pul off any level of seduction.

“I guess she does know who we are,” Eric said.

“Did you think I was lying?” Myrna’s gaze moved to Eric.

“You just don’t look like a rocker. Like, at al .”

“What does a rocker look like?”

“More makeup. Fewer clothes. Piercings. Tattoos.”

“Who says I don’t have any piercings?”

Sed traced the edge of her ear with his fingertip, drawing attention to a pair of smal diamond studs in her earlobe. “Ear piercings don’t count.”

“I wasn’t talking about my ears.”

Sed’s eyes searched her face. “Then where? I don’t see any oth- Oh…”

Brian shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“So where is it?” Eric asked excitedly. “Navel? Nipple?”

“Clit?” Jace asked, his eyes downcast as he grinned crookedly.

That’s what Brian expected, too. Her clit.
Fuck me.
He found it chal enging enough to stay upright with his head swimming from the booze. He sure didn’t need blood vacating his brain to engorge more attentive pieces of his anatomy. He clutched the table as the room tilted.

Myrna grinned, her hazel eyes moving to Brian’s face. “I’l never tel ,” she said, but her eyes said
I’ll show you, Brian
. She was toying with him. She
had
to be. He practical y had “drunk loser” tattooed on his forehead at the moment.

Sed leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear. She shook her head.

“You’re kil ing me, Myr.”

“Do you have any tattoos?” Eric asked.

“Not as many as you do.” Myrna’s eyes widened. She pul ed Eric’s hand above the surface of the table and released it. “You do not have permission to touch me.”

Brian bit his lip to hold back his laughter and lowered his gaze.
Harsh!
Surprisingly, none of the guys ripped on Eric for Myrna’s blatant dismissal. This chick was as intimidating as hel . Brian couldn’t remember the last time a woman had rattled his self-confidence. High school?

“I assume your body art isn’t visible either.” Sed tugged the col ar of her suit to one side to reveal an unmarked col arbone. Her elbow in his ribs convinced him to cease his inspection.

“I am a col ege professor. I have to maintain a certain level of propriety.”

“And you hang out with us in public?” Trey snorted and chuckled.

She glanced at her companions, considering each individual y. “Good point.” She laughed. Delightful. Warm. Brian bet there were other things about her that were delightful and warm. “I need to head up to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Don’t go yet,” Eric protested.

Brian’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Hadn’t she just publicly rejected him? And he wanted her to stay?

“Are you coming to our concert tomorrow night?” Trey asked.

Myrna’s jaw dropped. “You’re playing live? Oh my God. I’d absolutely love to go!”

“It’s sold out,” Sed said.

She scowled. “That sucks. Wel , I mean, it’s great for you, but it real y sucks for me.”

“We’l put you on the guest list. Come to the back door and give them the name Myrna Suxsed,” Sed said. “They’l hook you up with a backstage pass.”

Eric snorted with laughter.

“That would be fantastic,” she said.

Brian found it hard to believe that she hadn’t caught Sed’s connotation. Or maybe she had.

She hugged Sed’s arm and somehow managed to avoid his questing lips. “Okay, scoot, Eric. I’m going up to my room now.”

“If I refuse to move, you can’t go anywhere,” Eric said smugly.

“Oh real y?”

“Real y.”

“I’l just take a page from Brian’s book.”

Brian couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what she meant until she crawled up onto the table. She rol ed off the table onto his and Trey’s laps. She smel ed fantastic–coconut, vanil a, and something uniquely Myrna. His mouth went dry, his palms damp. My God, he was a glutton for punishment. He’d already had his heart broken once this week.

Myrna leaned close to his ear and whispered, “I’ve got something for you up in my room if you’d like a little help with your condition.”

His
condition
? He’d love her to help him with his
condition
. She’d gotten him in this condition after al . His self-confidence restored, Brian smiled. His hand wrapped around her narrow waist.

“Room 615,” she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. “Don’t wait too long to come up. I want to get to bed soon.”

“Room 615.”

“That’s right.” She climbed from his lap and straightened her skirt before glancing over her shoulder at Eric. He was banging his head repeatedly on the table.

“You’l stick around after the concert tomorrow, won’t you?” Sed asked.

“Of course.”

Trey saluted her with two fingers to his brow. “Good night, Professor.”

“Good night, Trey, Jace, Sed, Eric.” She nodded to each of them in turn. “I had fun talking to you. Thanks for indulging me.”

She picked up her laptop case and left the lounge, the eyes of every man in the room fol owing the gentle sway of her hips.

“And thank you for en-bulging me,” Sed muttered.

“She wears garters under that suit,” Eric groaned.

“I saw that,” Sed murmured. “When she climbed up on the table.”

“I felt that… when I slid my hand up her skirt.” Eric banged his head on the table again.

“You didn’t make much progress, did you?” Sed said. “She’s good at throwing off a guy’s advances without making it obvious.”

“Or in Eric’s case, making it total y obvious.” Jace laughed and ducked to avoid Eric’s wild swing across the table.

“None of that here, Eric,” Sed said. “You’l end up getting arrested again.”

“Why didn’t she say good night to you, Brian?” Trey, ever perceptive, asked.

“She wants me to come up to her room.”

“You lucky bastard.” Eric reached across the table to grab Brian by the shirt. Brian slapped his hands away.

He sat there for a moment, fighting the urge to put his head down on the table again. He massaged his face, but it was entirely numb. “I just wish I wasn’t so drunk. Christ!”

“You’re stil going, aren’t you?” Trey crunched his sucker between his teeth and tossed the empty stick into an ashtray. “Rebound pussy?”

Brian glanced at his best friend and fel ow guitarist. “What do you think?”

“I think we should tie you up and hide you in the tour bus,” Eric said. “She’l think you stood her up. Then I’l go console her and move in for the kil .” He opened his mouth and tapped the tips of his index and middle finger on his tongue.

“Dream on, Sticks.” Brian chugged half his glass of water and checked his breath by blowing into the palm of his hand. He winced. He pul ed a sucker out of Trey’s jacket pocket, unwrapped it, and stuck it in his mouth. Too sweet. Bleh. He started to toss it in the ashtray, but Trey rescued it.

“I was gonna eat that.”

“Anyone have breath spray?” Brian asked. “My mouth tastes like road kil .”

Sed dug various tubes of spray, a tin of breath mints, and some gum out of his pocket.

“Sed’s make-out arsenal,” Eric said.

Brian spritzed some peppermint spray in his mouth, hurled the tube at Sed, the
jerk,
and then hauled himself to his feet by grabbing the edge of the table. He stumbled sideways into the bench’s back, but quickly regained his footing.
Get it together, man.

There is a seriously hot chick waiting upstairs to help you with your condition.

“Twenty bucks says he passes out before he can get his dick out of his pants,” Sed said.

“I’l take that bet,” Eric said. “There ain’t a man alive who’d pass out before sliding into that Certified Grade A pussy.”

“He’l get it out of his pants, but he’l pass out before he does anything with it,” Jace said.

“He won’t even find her room.” Trey entered his bet and polished off his beer in three gulps. He stuck the cherry sucker he’d rescued from Brian in his mouth.

Brian shook his head. The company he kept. Sheezus!

He concentrated on walking a straight line to the elevator and, once inside, pushed the button to the sixth floor. He leaned against the wal as the car rose, his stomach settling in his boots. What was her room number again? Six something teen. Fifteen. Sixteen.

Fourteen? He should have written it down. His eyes drifted closed as he thought about the feel of Myrna’s breath against his ear. Her soft voice played through his head.

Six fifteen.
He remembered now. He knew he wasn’t at his best. Why had she picked him? What could she possibly find attractive about him at the moment? Not that he was complaining. He just didn’t get it. And she’d been sitting next to Sed. The guy drew chicks like moths to a flame. Even unavailable chicks. Like Angie.

That sucking flut.

He needed another beer. Or three. Maybe he could raid Myrna’s mini-bar. Or maybe she could use those pouty lips of hers to wipe the image of Angie sucking Sed’s dick from his memory. Yeah, he liked that plan better. What had Trey cal ed it? Rebound pussy. Exactly what he needed. He just had to keep his head together and not fal for this one.

Once off the elevator, he fol owed a sign to the correct corridor, stopped at the door labeled 615, and knocked.

“Just a second,” Myrna cal ed from inside. A smal victory. Trey lost the bet.

Brian leaned his forearm against the doorframe to keep himself on his feet and rested his forehead against his arm. He real y needed to sleep this off. He hoped she wasn’t hard to satisfy. He wasn’t even sure if he could maintain an erection in his condition.

She final y opened the door and smiled when he lifted his head to look at her. She’d removed her suit jacket, revealing a silky, white camisole and al sorts of creamy white flesh begging for his touch. God, she was fucking hot.
Score!

“You real y aren’t feeling wel , are you?” she asked, her brow furrowed with concern.

He didn’t want to lie, so he said nothing.

She stepped aside. “Come in.”

He pushed off the doorframe and entered her room. She closed the door behind him, and he knew he had to move quickly or Sed would win the bet. Or worse, Jace would win and he’d pass out with his pants around his knees. He turned Myrna to face him and pressed her up against the door with his body. She gasped in surprise just before his mouth claimed hers in a passionate kiss.

She wrenched her head to the side, breathing hard. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.”

“I never kiss on the first date.”

“This is our second date.”

She hesitated, her expression thoughtful. “Good point.”

Her fingers slid up his back and tangled in the longish hair at his nape. She closed her eyes and leaned closer. He rested his forearms on the door on either side of her head and tested her eagerness with a gentle brush of his lips against hers. Though his body told him to devour her, his partial y functioning brain wanted to treasure the feel of her soft lips against his for the first time. His hands curled into tight fists over her head so they wouldn’t rip off her clothes.

He watched her through half-closed eyes as his lips caressed hers. She responded with total submission—mouth open, body limp, fingers digging into his scalp as if she were trying to control herself. It drove him crazy. And that wasn’t the only thing driving him crazy. The taste of her mouth, her scent, her warm, soft body against his, the barely perceptible sound of longing she made in the back of her throat. Her tongue brushed his lip. His body tensed as if he’d been struck by lightning. She withdrew her tongue, coaxing his into her mouth with gentle strokes. He eagerly fol owed, caressing her lips with the tip of his tongue, and then touched her tongue with his. When her tongue tentatively caressed his in return, his eyes drifted closed.

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