Sinners on TourOlivia Cunning
A line of sunlight filtered through the window blinds and angled across Brian’s eyelids. Wincing against the red glare, he turned his face into his pillow. Something felt wrong this morning. He recognized the bed as the one at the back of Sinners’ tour bus, so it wasn’t because he was waking up in an unfamiliar hotel room. He was accustomed to life on the road and opening his eyes to a new city almost every morning, so why did he feel like something was different from his norm?
It was too quiet. The motion of the tour bus and the din of its engine were missing. It was such a familiar lullaby that his mornings felt off if he didn’t wake to the sound.
With a sleepy smile, he rubbed his face against his pillow, still trying to grasp full consciousness, and cringed as pain shot across the bridge of his nose. Fuck, his face hurt. And not because he’d slept on it again. He felt as if someone had pounded him between the eyes with a hard fist.
Probably because someone had.
All at once his mind grasped why the bus was stationary this morning and the reason his nose felt like it had been moshing with a wall in his sleep. They were in Las Vegas. Vegas. Myrna had agreed to marry him in Vegas. His botched bachelor party the night before had resulted in his worse-for-wear face, which meant…
Today was his wedding day.
Instantly awake, Brian shot his hand out into the space beside him to find nothing but an expanse of empty mattress. Had it been a dream? The woman had been throwing off his proposals for weeks, so maybe he had imagined her telling him she loved him. Dreamed that she’d agreed to marry him. Brian’s heart panged unpleasantly.
He reached farther, needing the tangible evidence of her skin beneath his touch. More cool and empty sheet met his seeking fingertips. Had Myrna changed her mind and left him? She had been pissed when he’d shown up with two black eyes the night before. He couldn’t blame her for having second thoughts after he’d gotten into a fight at a strip club. A strip club he hadn’t even wanted to go to, but still…
He stretched his arm as far as it would go, and his fingers found warm, soft skin. He breathed a sigh of relief and spooned against Myrna’s back, inhaling her delicate scent. Not a dream. Not his imagination. Sweet reality.
Myrna murmured his name in her sleep. The corners of Brian’s mouth turned up, and his heart warmed. He snuggled closer to her back, placing a tender kiss behind her ear.
“I love you,” he whispered. It felt so good to say it openly without worrying about her getting upset. The only thing better than verbally expressing his love was hearing her say it in return. He should probably let her sleep—their make-up sex had kept them awake well into the night—but he needed to see the love shining in her hazel eyes and hear her put the sentiment to words. In a few hours, she’d be his wife—Mrs. Myrna Sinclair. As far as he was concerned, the honeymoon started now.
Brian flicked Myrna’s earlobe with his tongue and sucked it into his mouth. The breathy sigh she emitted grabbed him by the balls. It was always like this with her; she ignited an insatiable sexual hunger within him. And so many things about her contributed to it. Her openness to any sexual experience blew his mind and challenged him to invent new experiences to share with her. Her scent, her taste, the sexy little sounds she made while their bodies were joined, the texture of her skin, the way the light danced in her auburn hair, the gleam of naughtiness in her hazel eyes, how her pouty lips always begged for his kisses... The entirety of her physical being burned his body with awareness. The music he composed while making love to her inspired his soul. Her hard-won trust set his heart ablaze. He loved everything about her, even her stubbornness. She wasn’t an easy woman, but she was the only woman for him. He’d known it the first time they’d made love. And now she knew it too. At least she said she did. He decided she needed a few reminders so she wouldn’t forget.
Sucking and nibbling on her ear, he moved his hand to cover her breast. She arched into his palm, her hardened nipple pressing into his flesh.
“Brian!” she gasped.
It would be the one and only name she’d call out in ecstasy for the rest of their lives. He couldn’t ever imagine growing tired of hearing her say it.
He slid his hand lower, over her ribs, her belly, seeking the center of her pleasure at the juncture of her thighs. His fingers brushed the crisp curls between her legs, and she shuddered. He already knew what he wanted to do to her. He’d stroke her clit until she came and then press her down on her belly, suspend himself over her back and fuck her slow from behind. Grind his hips each time he buried his cock deep inside. Tease her clit with his balls until she begged him to make her come.
Myrna caught his hand before he could find his target.
“No,” she said firmly.
“No?” How could she say no? She never told him no. Never.
“Not until the honeymoon.”
He grinned. “Which I’ve already decided starts now.”
She rolled over to face him and winced. “Oh, baby, your face! And I thought you looked bad last night.”
Bar fights never ended well, even when you won. It hadn’t necessarily been the brightest idea to get in a brawl at his bachelor party, but the instigator of the fight—one Eric Sticks—wasn’t known for coming up with bright ideas. Impulsive ideas? Yeah. Troublemaking ideas? Definitely. But not bright ones. And the cause of the fight—one Jessica Chase. Well, he didn’t want his morning ruined by thoughts of that gold digger.
For a few tense moments the night before, Brian had thought Myrna would call off their wedding. Thought his world would end. But after telling him off, she’d listened. She allowed him to explain. And while she hadn’t condoned his idiocy—or Eric’s—she’d forgiven him. He’d made sure to thank her body profusely for her forgiveness well into the night.
Myrna kissed the bridge of his nose, and his flesh throbbed in protest. Wincing, he drew a pained breath through his teeth.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, rubbing her thumb along his cheekbone.
“Doesn’t feel good. Are both eyes black now?”
“Yep. You’re the sexiest raccoon rock-god on the planet.”
He grinned. “Well, as long as you think I’m sexy.”
“Always.” She kissed him and pulled away to stare into his eyes.
He stared back, his heart thudding with a mixture of love and lust and unadulterated joy. He couldn’t believe Myrna was openly his. That she wanted to marry him. Today.
“I love you,” she said. She burrowed her fingers into his hair. “I love you,” she said more firmly. “Do you believe me?”
Almost—it was still very new coming from her lips—but he said, “Yes.”
“I think I fell in love with you when I saw you standing in the terminal in Portland waiting for me. Do you remember that?”
“Yeah, but you didn’t love me then. I asked you if you were opening up possibilities between us and you said only sexual ones. And then you gave me your panties to make sure I understood exactly what you meant.” He still had those panties somewhere.
“Well, I was an idiot. And I did love you, Brian, I just didn’t want to admit it. I was scared.”
“And you’re not scared anymore?”
She shook her head.
“And you promise not to break my heart?” he asked.
“And you’ll love me forever?”
“And we can start the honeymoon right now?”
She laughed. “Nope. I’m going to make you wait.”
“It’s the two black eyes, isn’t it?”
He blinked at her, knowing he looked like shit. He felt
like shit. He wasn’t sure why he’d let his band mates talk him into going to a strip club for his bachelor party. They hadn’t believed him when he’d told them he’d rather spend his last night of freedom with Myrna. He’d had enough of bachelorhood; it was only more of the same. The love he shared with Myrna was new and exciting. Exactly what he wanted. Needed. His smart and sexy Myrna. His heart.
“Nope, it’s not the black eyes. It’s knowing how hard you’re going to fuck me after I tease you all day.”
She offered him a devilish grin, and his cock pulsed with excitement.
“Are you sure you’re not punishing me for getting into a fight last night?”
“Well, maybe a little.” She kissed him again. “But I love you regardless.” She stared at him with such intensity he had to look away.
“I love you,” she said with conviction, and he met her eyes again. “I love you. I love you. Which way do you like me to say it?”
“Any way is fine with me as long as it’s frequent and you mean it.”
She continued to stare into his eyes. “I do. I do. I do. How should I say that?”
He grinned. “You just have to say that once.”
She smiled and there was no mistaking that her level of happiness matched his.
“We have a busy day ahead of us,” she said. “Rings. Dress. Makeover. Wedding. Sinners concert. Honeymoon. We’d better get out of bed.”
“Or we can stay in bed, forget the dress, and get married right here while participating in the honeymoon. I’m a firm believer in multitasking.” He grinned hopefully and nodded, encouraging her to mimic his motion and agree with his perfect plan.
The eyebrow she raised at him told him that wasn’t happening.
He released a defeated sigh and pulled out of her arms. “Let’s go pick out that ring. It’ll be huge and expensive—no protests out of you.”
She opened her mouth, and he covered it with one hand.
The corners of her mouth turned up against his palm. He knew damned well he’d get her whatever ring she wanted.
“We’re in agreement?”
She nodded, and he moved his hand so he could kiss her lips. “Are you ready to go pick it out?”
He so wanted to put that physical token of his affection on her left ring finger. The slender digit looked hopelessly bare at the moment. He drew her hand to his lips to kiss spot that would soon be obscured by his eternal rock.
She tossed the covers aside. “I need a shower first.”
“I’ll join you.”
She appraised him for a moment, her gaze skimming over his naked flesh from head to toe. Her concentration focused mostly in the middle. When his cock hardened beneath her appreciative attention, her tongue darted out to wet her lips.
“Yeah, you will,” she said.
Myrna slipped into a thick, red bathrobe and opened the door that lead to the main corridor of the tour bus. Naked, gorgeous, and hard, Brian followed her.
The bathroom was to her left. When she tried to slide the door open, she found it locked.
“Occupado,” Eric Sticks called from within.
“Hurry up. We have to get ready for the wedding,” Brian yelled, and pounded on the door with the heel of his hand.
“Almost finished,” Eric called back.
“He’s probably jerking it in there,” Brian said.
Myrna turned and wrapped her arms around her soon-to-be husband. She’d promised herself she’d never get married again. Not after her first marriage had ended so horribly. But now that her defenses had crumbled, she couldn’t wait to start her life with this wonderful man. After putting him off for so long and fighting his affections with an uncompromising—and in hindsight ridiculous—stubbornness, she felt she had a lot to make up to him. She wanted Brian to be happy. She wanted him to feel loved. Cherished. She’d never felt that way about her first husband. She had never wanted to put Jeremy’s happiness before her own. What she had with Brian was special. Perfect. Forever. She wished she had recognized it sooner.
Sliding her hands up the smooth skin of Brian’s back, she pressed a trail of kisses along his collarbone. “How many hours before I get to be Mrs. Sinclair?”
“We have to get a marriage license; that will probably take twenty minutes or so.” He burrowed his hands into her hair and tilted her head back to sample her lips with tender, sucking kisses. “After that? As soon as you’re ready.”
“I’d say immediately, but I want to look pretty for you.”
“You look damn fine in this robe, Professor.”
“And you look damn fine in nothing, Master Sinclair.”
The feel of his warm skin and firm muscles beneath her eager hands had her reconsidering her earlier decision to make him wait until that night. The Beast didn’t want to wait either; Brian’s cock rose hard and thick against her belly. She grabbed her fiancé’s ass with both hands to pull him closer. He produced a sound, half groan/half growl, that made her pussy throb with need.
“I’m going to wear a skirt and spend the entire day without any panties on,” she whispered in his ear.
“You can’t expect me to control myself knowing that.”
Her hand slid down the ridge of his hipbone. His thigh. Up the inside of his leg. She brushed the side of her hand over his balls, and he tensed.
“If you don’t stop that, I’m going to fuck you right here,” he said.
She repeated the motion. “Oh yeah?”
He pressed her up against the flimsy wall next to the bathroom door. His cock rubbed against the inside of her thigh, and she shuddered. Yes, Brian, take me right here.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Sed grumbled from his bunk just past the bathroom door.
“Sorry, did we wake you?” Myrna murmured.
Brian nuzzled her neck and ground his cock against her mound.
“Who can sleep with all the lovey, lovey, kissy, screw-me talk three feet from your head?” The usual smoothness of the singer’s baritone was uncommonly raspy this morning and his demeanor even grumpier than usual.
“Jace for one,” Brian said.
Myrna chuckled. Sinners’ young bassist did like his sleep.
Myrna peeked over Brian’s shoulder and found Jace unconscious in the top bunk. His cute stubble-adorned face was squashed against the mattress. His bleached hair lay limp instead of poking out in its usual spikes. Endearing was the word Myrna would use to describe Jace Seymour. And kinky. Or so she gathered based on tidbits she’d heard from groupies and what she’d seen in his suitcase of carnal delights.
“I think he had a rough night,” Sed grumbled and cleared his throat with a wince. “He got in late and passed out in his bunk without even taking off his boots.”
Or removing his leather jacket, Myrna noted with a grin.
She snuggled closer to Brian with her chin resting on his shoulder as they waited for the bathroom. Around here, someone always seemed to be waiting for the bathroom.
“You guys should consider staying in a hotel when the bus is parked,” she said. “Aren’t there around a million hotel rooms in this city?”
She’d grown accustomed to the close quarters of the bus while touring with the band for her research project, but after sharing a bathroom with five guys, she deserved a trophy or a medal or something.
A pair of grass-green eyes peered at her from the bottom bunk across the way. She was glad to see Trey awake. She’d been worried about him. Some overzealous bouncer had cracked him in the back of the head with a ball bat the night before, but he looked better than Brian did this morning, so he must be all right. She smiled at him, but he didn’t return the smile. His gaze wasn’t focused on her. It was zeroed in on Brian’s bare ass. Trey’s tongue rubbed against his upper lip, and Myrna could only imagine where his thoughts had drifted. A seed of jealousy sprouted in her chest, and she ran her hands over Brian’s smooth ass cheeks. She grinne
d triumphantly when Brian’s ever-attentive cock jerked against her belly.
Brian was hers—every inch of him—and Trey damned well better not forget it.