[English] BACKSTAGE PASS (Vượt Qua Qua Khứ)

Backstage Pass
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“Please,” he begged. “Suck me. God. Please.”

She lowered her head further, tonguing the crease of skin between his bal s and her ultimate goal. When her tongue danced over the puckered flesh of his anus, he squirmed, panting as she tested the limits of his self-control. After a moment, he relaxed and she pressed the tip of her tongue inside him. He twitched.

He hadn’t cal ed her a whore yet, but she knew he must have been thinking it.

She withdrew her tongue and placed a sucking kiss around his puckered flesh before moving to take his c**k in her mouth.

“Yes,” he gasped. “Thank you.”

She cupped his bal s in one hand, massaging gently as she drew his c**k in and out of her mouth, applying the most suction at its head as she let it fal from her lips, and then she’d take it within again. By the hitch in his breathing, she could tel he was close. She wanted him to come in her mouth. Wanted to taste him. Swal ow him. Make his body spasm with release. Only whores like to swallow, Jeremy’s voice assured her.

She squeezed her eyes closed and took Brian’s c**k deep into her throat.

“Mmmmmm…” she purred loudly.

“God!”

She drew back and bobbed her head up and down rapidly as she sucked. Her lips bumped over the sensitive rim faster and faster. One hand held the base of his c**k firmly so she could concentrate on her technique, the other continued to massage his bal s gently. His groans of pleasure encouraged her *****ck harder, move faster. Come, Brian. Come on. Give me what I want. She knew he was holding back on her, selfishly trying to prolong his pleasure. She didn’t mind. She loved a chal enge. She wriggled her tongue against the underside of his c**k as she sucked him deep. When he was buried deep in her throat again, she hummed and dipped the tip of a finger into his ass.

“****, woman!” He grabbed her hair as his hips bucked off the mattress and he bathed the back of her throat with his juices. She smiled, sucking him and swal owing his offering until he stopped spurting. When his body went limp, she released his c**k from her mouth and col apsed beside him, breathing hard to catch her breath.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, stil panting. “Amazing.”

Why don’t you tell me what you really think of me? Jeremy had never had a problem expressing himself. Brian reached for her and drew her against him. She buried her face in his side, inhaling his scent. ***ual excitement had strengthened his unique, musky aroma. She loved the smel of his body. There was probably something wrong with that, too. She struggled to free herself from his embrace, but he held her fast.

“I need to take a shower,” she said, her hand pressing against the skul tattoo on his abdomen. “I have several sessions I’m supposed to attend this morning.”

“The only sessions you’re attending wil be right here.” He pointed at his softening ****. “As soon as I can move, that is.”

She didn’t disgust him? She looked up at him, expecting him to be staring her down with accusation, but he just grinned as if he was half stoned.

“Don’t you have things to do today?” she asked.

“Lots,” he said. “And they al involve your body.”

Her heart kicked. She smiled. Maybe he was okay with her uninhibited side. “You rock stars have such hard lives.”

He was quiet for a long moment. “Did you just suck me off like a maniac because I’m a rock star or because you like me?”

She cringed. “Does it matter?”

“Yeah.”

“I like you.” She paused. “I also like that you’re a rock star. I’m especial y drawn to those magical fingers of yours.” She took his hand in hers and kissed his fingertips.

“But if I wasn’t famous, you wouldn’t have anything to do with me.”

“If you weren’t famous, I probably would have been too shy to introduce myself to you last night. I would have wanted *****ck you off like a maniac, regardless. You’re irresistibly ***y, Brian.”

He grinned. “I guess that’s good enough for me.”

She reached up and touched his handsome face. “Does it bother you that women respond to your fame?”

“Not usual y.” He shrugged. “Sometimes.”

He wanted something real, not the fantasy. She could see it in his soft, brown eyes as he gazed at her. She was sorry to disappoint him, but she was al about the fantasy. He’d just have to find a way to cope when her few hours in fantasyland came to an end. And so what if that made her a whore. She was tired of pretending to be a good girl. I always saw the real you and I loved you anyway, Jeremy’s voice intruded her thoughts again. She shook her head slightly.

“Can you move yet?” she asked, hoping Brian could exorcise the demon of Jeremy from her thoughts.

“Let me try.” His free hand covered her breast and squeezed. “Almost.”

She gazed down his body. Her hand slid down his bel y toward his slack ****. It twitched in response. She grinned. “Almost.”

“So where is this piercing you told us about last night?”

She flushed. “I was only teasing. I don’t real y have a body piercing. Or a tattoo.”

“I don’t believe you. I’l need to look you over for myself.”

He stripped her nightgown off over her head and pressed her down flat on her back.

“Hmm. I don’t see any here,” he said, gazing at her br**sts. “Just let me make sure.” He stroked her nipple with his fingertips, drawing it to a hardened bud. He lowered his head, flicked the taunt tip with his tongue and then sucked it into his mouth. Myrna gasped. He sucked hard, stroking the underside of her nipple and breast with his tongue.

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“Nope, definitely no piercing,” he said. “Better check the other one.”

He repeated the treatment on her other breast. Her fingers stole into the soft strands of his longish hair, holding him there. He lifted his head and blew a cool breath over her moist nipple. Her body jerked.

He didn’t move for a moment and she gazed down at him. He was watching her as if waiting for something.

“If you let go of my hair, I can continue my inspection.”

She flushed and released his hair. His mouth left a trail of wet kisses along the underside of her breast, across her ribs to the center of her stomach, and then down to her navel. He dipped his tongue into her bel ybutton rhythmical y, causing a flood of heat between her thighs. She throbbed with need, craving that thrusting rhythm within. Ah God, f**k me, Brian. She bit her lip so she didn’t make the mistake of saying it aloud.

“No navel ring,” he murmured.

He continued down her body, sucking a trail over her lower bel y. A spasm shook her body and she giggled.

“Ticklish?”

“A little.”

He blew a cool breath over the moist trail he’d left behind and she moaned. He used the distraction to slide her panties from her body.

“One more place I need to check.” He wrapped a hand around each leg, just above her knees and spread her thighs wide.

“You already checked there.” Her body tensed. She wasn’t a fan of having her clit licked. So few men did it right. His fingers combed through the nest of curls at the apex of her thighs. “You don’t shave this off regularly?”

She flushed. She knew the trends among younger women. She kept her pubic hair trimmed, but didn’t shave it into unusual shapes or thin strips.

“It’s there for a reason.” She slipped into *** professor mode. “It maintains the ***ual scents. Also each hair is associated with a nerve ending, so increases sensory input to the brain during copulation.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Copulation?”

Oh God. Had she turned him off with her cerebral discussion of a primitive urge? “****ing?”

“I prefer making love.” He grinned. “And you’re right about the scent.” He inhaled her essence deeply through his nose. “Definitely a turn on.”

His cal oused fingertips found the hood of skin covering her clit. He exposed the swol en nub buried within and, using a second finger, stroked her to climax in seconds. She cried out, her thighs quivering as the sensation rippled through her body. How did he do that?

“You come so easily.” He kissed the inside of her thigh. “Definitely a turn on.” She couldn’t lift her head to look at him, but could hear the smile in his voice.

She didn’t usual y come so quickly. Usual y when a man was in control, she never reached climax. Brian was a genius with those fingers of his. And not just as a guitarist.

“You’re amazing,” she gasped.

“Al those solos.” His finger stroked her again and she shuddered.

“Feel free to practice on me any time.”

He chuckled. “I’m not sure you want to offer that.”

She was one hundred and one percent sure that she did.

His hair brushed the insides of her thighs as he lowered his head. She tensed again. He sucked her clit into his mouth and stroked it with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh God,” she groaned. He was good at this, too?

Brian continued sucking and stroking her with his tongue. Her pu**y throbbed in protest of its neglect. She wanted him inside her so bad. His big, beautiful c**k pounding her fast and hard. She couldn’t take any more. She had to have him. She grabbed a handful of his hair and pul ed him away from the glorious things he was doing to her clit. “Take me, Brian,” she said. “Now.”

“Not yet.”

If demands didn’t work, perhaps begging would earn his mercy. “Please. Please, Brian. I ache with wanting you inside me.”

His fingers traced the slippery rim of her eager opening. “You want me in here?”

She shifted her hips, wil ing to accept even his fingers inside her. Anything to fil that aching emptiness. He drew his hand away, leaving her wanting. “You’re dripping wet, baby. Has it been a while since you’ve been f**ked properly?”

She wasn’t sure if she’d ever been f**ked properly. She knew she’d never been this turned on in her life. “You’re cruel.” She pouted.

“If I was being cruel, you’d know it. Let go of my hair and trust me to satisfy you.”

She released his hair, lifted her head and looked down at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. My c**k is cal ing me every sort of a son of a bitch right now. He wants to be inside you twice as much as you want him there.”

“Impossible.”

He grinned. “He’l wait for a few more minutes though. Can you handle that?”

“Just a few?”

He nodded.

“I’l try.” Some of her building excitement had dissipated. She wished she hadn’t stopped him now. She relaxed onto the bed and gripped handfuls of the sheets to prevent herself from pul ing his hair again.

He doesn’t want you, Myrna. Who’d want a cheating whore?

Shut up, Jeremy.

Brian lowered his head and drew his tongue along the inside of her labia, flicked it across her anus and then trailed it back up the other side.

“Nnggnn,” she groaned.

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He sucked her clit back into his mouth and her hips bucked involuntarily. While he sucked her and stroked her with his tongue, his fingers traced the rim of her vaginal opening, never dipping inside, just teasing her to the point of tears. He kept her at the brink of orgasm. Whenever her breath would hitch as she approached release, he’d pause in his torment until she settled down again. Her need for him intensified with each increasing peak.

When she was convinced she was going to die, he slid two fingers inside her.

She cried out, her back arching. He curled his fingers and pressed up inside her, slowly withdrawing until she screamed with release. He rubbed that perfect spot inside until her legs trembled and her thighs clamped together over his hand. He knew how to find a g-spot? Ah, God. Gifted. The man was ***ual y gifted. Myrna forced herself to relax her leg lock on his hand. When her body stopped quaking, he removed his fingers and slid from the end of the bed.

“Don’t get up,” he said.

He left her lying there, dazed. He was done? He didn’t want her? Fighting tears of rejection, she watched him search the floor for his clothes. His hard c**k jutted before him, thickly veined and straining. Did he find her so repulsive that he’d just leave while stil in that con***ion?

Brian bent to retrieve his pants—giving Myrna a spectacular view of his perfect, bare ass—and fished a condom out of his pocket. Her breath caught. He tore the package open with his teeth and unrol ed the condom over his ****. Such a shame to cover its perfection from her view, but it meant…

He climbed back onto the bed and settled his narrow hips between her thighs.

“You want me?” she whispered around the knot in her throat.

“Did you seriously just ask me that?” He brushed her hair from her damp cheeks and kissed her tenderly. His lips tasted and smel ed like her. So intimate. He lifted his head to stare into her eyes. “I think the question is do you stil want me, or did I overdo it a little?”

“I stil want you. So much,” she whispered. “I’m not sure I can move though.”

He grinned crookedly. “I’l do al the moving at first.”

He rocked his hips forward, probing for her opening without using his hands for guidance. When he found her, he slid into her slowly, holding her shoulders as he burrowed deeper and deeper.

“Mmmmm,” he murmured and buried his face in her neck. “Certified Grade A.”

Her brow creased. “What?”

“Nothing.”

His strokes were slow and deep. Slow and deep. Slow and deep. Stretching her wide, withdrawing. He more than fil ed her. She’d never been with a man as wel -endowed as he was. Perhaps it was his size that thril ed her. Nope, definitely the way he used it. She groaned—her excitement building again. His quiet gasps in her ear sent her lust spiraling out of control. Her hands moved to his ass, digging into his flesh as she bucked her hips against him. His gasps grew shaky and punctuated. His strokes faster and harder. And harder. And harder. Harder. God yes, harder. Make me feel you, Brian. Drive everything away but you. Myrna’s head banged into the headboard. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, rubbing her head with the palm of his hand. “Too hard?”

She shook her head vigorously. “I like it.”

He dragged her sideways across the bed, turning her partial y on her side, so that he straddled one of her legs. He wrapped her other leg around his waist.

“Oh,” she gasped at the change in stimulation. She liked that, too.

He thrust into her, biting his lip as he pounded against her. Soon his hard thrusts pushed her beyond the edge of the bed. She caught herself with her hand to keep from tumbling to the floor.

“Damn it,” he growled, and pul ed her back up onto the bed. “I can’t seem to get deep enough. I want… I need…” He gasped and ground his hips as he pushed into her. His fingers dug into her hips and held her steady, seeking to possess her ful y.

“Let me try.” She pushed him onto his back and sighed in frustration when he slid out of her. Emptiness replaced the perfect way he fil ed her. She hurried to straddle his hips and sank down on his thick ****, taking him as deep as he would go, stretched to her limits. Her head tilted back in ecstasy.

His hands wrapped around her waist, pul ing her down, urging her body to take more of him. “Deeper,” he groaned. She bounced against him, taking him a centimeter at a time until, at last, she had accepted al of him.

“Now you have al of me,” he whispered, looking up at her through heavy eyelids. His fingers traced paths up and down her spine, making her shudder. “Ride me, baby. Show me how you like it.”

He cared how she liked it? She didn’t understand why that turned her on so much, but she rode him. Lifting her hips and grinding downward, gyrating to stimulate her clit against his pubic bone, she used him for her pleasure, ignoring his needs. She just wanted to get off. An orgasm rippled through her. She cried out, but didn’t stop. Again. She wanted to come again with him inside her. She took him faster, rotating slightly with each downward stroke. She wasn’t sure when she’d started chanting his name. “Brian. Brian.” After her second orgasm? “Oh, Brian.” Her third? “God, Brian. Yes.”

His hips rose off the bed to meet her strokes. He bit his lip, his head tossed back. She’d never seen anything ***ier in her life. Watching his expression was almost better than the waves of pleasure coursing through her own body.

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“Oh f**k, f**k,” he shouted, and grabbed her firmly by the hips to stop her gyrating thrusts. “Stop, stop. Give me a minute.”

She slapped him hard on the chest. “Don’t hold back on me, goddammit. I wanna make you come.”

“No, no. Not yet. Not yet. Damn.” He pul ed her off him and tossed her onto her back in the center of the bed. “****, ****, I’m going to lose it.”

Lose what? His erection? Not bloody likely. He was as hard as granite.

He rol ed on top of her and slid inside her again. Her eyes drifted closed. Her back arched, rubbing her bel y against his. The fingers of his left hand tapped rhythmical y against her shoulder. His strokes were different this time, a three-quarter time beat, if she wasn’t mistaken, and he was humming under his breath.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Shh. Shh. I’ve almost got it.”

She watched him for a moment, trying to figure out the sudden change in him. “Are you hearing music in your head?”

“Shh, sweetheart. Please.”

She fel silent. Whatever he was doing was obviously important. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the perfect rhythm of his deep strokes. The riff he hummed in her ear was outstanding. Sensual. Even more sensual than his usual work. She’d never heard anything like it before, and she was a col ector of excel ent guitar segments. He paused and looked down at her. “I need something to write on.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“Baby, I haven’t written a new riff in months. You are beyond awesome.” He grinned down at her, pumping into her hard and steady. “Making love to this perfect body stimulates more than my ****.”

“Thanks.” She quirked an eyebrow at him. “I guess.”

He reached for a pen on the side table and uncapped it. He wiped the sweat from her body with the sheet and drew a straight line across her chest. He then added a series of dots on, above, and below the line. Scribbled letters appeared here and there. E. C. C#. She just watched him, too surprised to protest. The line of musical notes continued across her br**sts, under her br**sts, several lines along her bel y.

He paused, his eyes drifting closed. “God, you feel good, Myrna. So good.” She planted her feet on the bed, lifted her hips and gyrated. “Yeah.” He rose up on his knees slightly and thrust forward, grinding deep. “Perfect,” he murmured. “Take me. Al of me. Inside.” He began to pump into her again, withdrawing only slightly as if he didn’t want to move at al . “I hear you,” he whispered. Her brow furrowed. Her panting? Is that what she meant?

He pul ed out unexpectedly, leaving her empty. She groaned in protest.

“Turn over,” he demanded breathlessly.

“What?”

“I’m out of space and this solo you’ve inspired…” He shook his ink pen at her.

She laughed. “You’re crazy.”

“Al geniuses are.”

She smiled and rol ed onto her stomach. She’d thought he’d just start writing on her back, but he eased her onto her knees and slid his c**k inside her again. He thrust into her with the same rhythm as before, drawing notes across the skin of her back while she groaned. This man would be her downfal . She knew it with a certainty. She rocked back against him, loving the way his bal s slapped against her with each steady stroke.

“Hold stil ,” he complained.

“Then stop screwing me so wel .”

“I need the rhythm to get the spacing of the notes right. I could cal Sticks for a tempo, if you’d like.”

“I prefer this method.” She concentrated on holding stil for him so he could write and maintain his rhythm at the same time.

“God, me, too. But I need to come soon. I’m about to explode. Do you have any idea how f**king amazing you are?”

He scattered line upon line of notes across her back and then tossed the pen across the room. He leaned forward to squeeze her br**sts and pinch her ni**les as he deserted his music-writing tempo for quick shal ow strokes. His moans grew louder and louder as he gave himself over to pleasure.

With one final deep thrust, he cried out, “Myrna. Oh, God. Oh God, yes.”

She felt him shudder violently behind her and regretted that she couldn’t see his face. He grasped her hips and held her stil , grinding deeply until his spasms calmed.

He pul ed out and col apsed on the bed beside her, eyes closed, breathing hard. “That was fantastic.” He drew her down beside him and placed a tender kiss on her shoulder. “I’d cuddle with you, but I don’t want to sweat off my riff and solo.”

She laughed. “That must be the first time that excuse has ever been used to avoid after-*** cuddling.”

He took her face between both hands and kissed her reverently. Never had she been kissed reverently before.

“It’s the truth, though. I’d love to hold you close for hours.”

She smiled. A sweet *** god. What more could a girl want? He kissed her again.

“Ah Myrna,” he murmured. “I think my muse resides deep, deep inside you.”

“You sure know how to use her in exactly the right way.”

Chapter 4

Walking through a hotel in nothing but a bathrobe and panties… Only Brian Sinclair could talk Myrna into doing something that bold. He’d actual y tried to convince her to go naked, but she’d reminded him that her stuffed-shirt col eagues would likely be roaming the hal s at this hour. She and Brian took the elevator to the top floor. While the car rose, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple.

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“I’m sorry to make you miss your conference.”

“No, you aren’t.” And she wasn’t either.

He grinned deviously. “You’re right. I’m not.”

“At least I don’t have to present a session today. How would I look walking up on stage bowlegged and limping?”

“You’d look ***y,” he said. “Especial y since I’d know why you were walking funny.” He tapped her nose with his fingertip. She tried to ignore the little thril of happiness that fluttered through her heart. She was glad they’d be saying their good-byes tonight. The last thing she needed in her life was a distraction as monumental as Brian Sinclair. And he had her entirely distracted. There were only two rooms located on the top floor. Brian fished his keycard out of his wal et and opened the door to one of the suites.

“After you, gorgeous.”

She stepped into the marble entryway of the suite, impressed by its expanse.

“Is that you, Brian?” Trey stepped out of the bathroom, shirtless and in baggy black jeans, drying his hair with a towel. His best feature was undoubtedly his sultry green eyes, and hiding one of them behind long bangs made him ***ier for some reason.

“And guest,” Brian said.

Trey tossed the towel aside. “Oh hey, pretty lady.”

“Hi, Trey.” She waved self-consciously.

“I guess he found you last night,” Trey said.

“Barely,” Brian admitted.

“Is that Lucky Von ****head I hear?” Eric’s voice came from a room off to the right. “Goes out and gets himself some Certified Grade A pu**y while leaving us high and…” He paused in the doorway, his eyes racking over Myrna’s disheveled hair, bathrobe, and bare feet. “****. Sorry, Myrna. I figured you’d have dumped him by now.”

She flushed. “Not yet.”

“So we have this little bet,” Eric began.

“Shut up, Numbnuts.” Brian turned to Trey. “Did someone bring my guitar upstairs last night?”

“It’s in the dining room.” Trey nodded down the hal .

Brian headed in that direction. Myrna fol owed him, but Eric darted into her path. She looked up at him. His pale blue eyes seemed to penetrate her robe, skin, flesh, and peer right into her soul. She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said. “We need to know who won our bet.”

“I lost,” Trey said. “He found her room.” He stuck a cherry sucker in his mouth and brushed past Eric and Myrna to fol ow Brian.

“Hey, what’s going on? Why do you want your guitar? Did you final y come up with a new riff?”

“When did he pass out last night?” Eric asked Myrna.

“After he swal owed my banana and I forced him to consume my fluids.” She winked at him. His mouth fel open. “What?”

“Excuse me.” She brushed Eric aside and fol owed the sound of a guitar being plugged into an amp. A second guitar hummed with feedback.

“Myrna, hurry,” Brian cal ed.

She entered the dining room and paused. Brian “Master” Sinclair, his signature black and white Schecter guitar slung low. Trey Mil s, sucker stick jutting out of his mouth beside him, adjusting one of the leads on his yel ow and black guitar. Nice! Brian beckoned Myrna closer by flicking two fingers at her. He shifted her in front of himself and Trey, and then untied the sash of her bathrobe. He tossed the fabric aside, revealing his score, and the vast majority of Myrna’s naked body. Under the robe, she wore only pink bikinis. Heat flooded her face, but she stood stil .

“Nice tits, Myr,” Trey said around his cherry sucker. His gaze moved from her bare br**sts to the string of notes written above and below a single line. “There’s no staff, Brian. What in the hel am I looking at?”

Brian pointed to the start of the line, near Myrna’s right shoulder. “Middle C. The first chord.”

Brian showed Trey his fingering and struck the strings with his pick.

Trey moved his hand along his guitar strings, glanced back at the score on Myrna’s skin and nodded. “Okay. I see. Harmony or concert?”

“Let’s try harmony first.”

“Gotcha.” Trey shifted his sucker to the other side of his mouth, and then struck the first chord.

“Grungier,” Brian said.

Trey adjusted a knob on his guitar, tilted his wrist slightly and struck the chord again.

“Yeah, like that.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

Myrna’s eyes widened as they played one of the most amazing riffs she’d ever heard. The idea that she had something to do with its creation thril ed her.

Eric entered the dining room. “Sounds great.”

Trey missed a beat and his guitar rang with a discordant note. Brian paused and glanced at him. “Something wrong?”

“I can’t concentrate with those…” He lifted his hands in front of Myrna’s chest and flexed his fingers inches from her br**sts. “…in my field of view.”

“Oh, come on, Trey. How many pairs of tits do you see in an average week?” Brian asked.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve never seen hers.” Trey nodded toward Myrna.

Myrna’s face flamed as she closed the robe over her exposed chest.

“Hey, I didn’t get to see them yet,” Eric complained.

“Go bang on a drum in the other room.” Brian pul ed the robe sash free from its loops and handed it to her. “Here. Hold this over your tits so Trey doesn’t knock his guitar out of tune with his hard on.”

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She laughed and glanced sidelong at Trey, her face burning even hotter.

Trey nodded, pul ing his sucker out of his mouth with a slurp. “Seriously.”

“Al right,” she said.

Brian pul ed her robe off her shoulders and she held the sash across her br**sts. It covered her ni**les but little else.

“That’s almost worse,” Trey murmured. “Uhn. She’s so goddamned ***y. I just want to lick her al over.” He drew his tongue over his bottom lip, his gaze drifting over her skin.

Myrna’s eyes widened.

“Get your game face on, Trey.” Brian thumped him on the head.

Trey stuck his sucker back in his mouth and nodded. He struck the first chord and Brian joined him. The riff got better as their eyes moved over her chest, under her br**sts, along her bel y. A few times through the sequence and they could play it without reading the notes. Myrna was so drawn up in the music, she didn’t notice Sed until he sat on the edge of the dining table beside her.

“Are you responsible for that?” he said into her ear.

She gasped and closed her robe. “I don’t know.”

“Wel , I thank you for getting Sinclair out of his funk, whatever it was you did.”

The two of them watched Brian and Trey play the riff repeatedly until they’d perfected it. Trey started altering parts slightly to fit his rapidly strumming, shredding style. Brian added more triplets, his fingers flying over the strings. It sounded… perfect and, as always, sensual. The two guitarists, Brian right-handed and Trey left-handed, leaned back-to-back and closed their eyes, letting the music carry them away.

She’d never seen anything ***ier in her life. Wel , maybe Brian’s face when he made love to her, but he almost had the same expression as he leaned against Trey’s back and fingered his guitar.

Jace entered the room rubbing his face sleepily. “What’s al this racket? It’s ten o’clock in the f**king morning.”

With a start of surprise, Jace noticed Myrna and his gaze drifted down his naked body. His eyes darted back to her. “Aw, ****. Excuse me.” He left the room. When he returned a few minutes later in a pair of shorts, he took his bass out of its case and plugged it in to a third amp.

Jace stood in the corner with his eyes closed and soon found a bass groove to compliment the new guitar riff.

“You guys are awesome,” Myrna murmured under her breath.

Brian watched her as he played. He smiled. “It’s al because of you, baby.”

She grinned, her heart fluttering stupidly.

Brian stil ed his guitar strings with his hand and reached for Myrna, turning her to face the opposite direction. He tugged her robe down to her waist and brushed her long, auburn hair aside. Myrna glanced over her shoulder at him, clutching the robe to her br**sts.

“My solo.”

Trey leaned closer, his brow furrowed. Not even a line for direction here. Just notes and a few letters scrawled here and there.

“Wel , let’s hear it.”

When Brian began to play, excitement raced down Myrna’s spine.

“Wow,” Sed murmured.

Brian’s fingers flew over the fret board, drawing sounds from his instrument that few guitarists could emulate. He finished the solo with one final, long screech on the whammy bar. The entire band whistled in appreciation. He flipped his guitar over his shoulder so it hung upside down over his back. He spooned up against Myrna and drew her against him.

“Now I’m al horny again,” he murmured into her ear, his hands splayed over her bel y. “I’l never be able to play that solo without getting hard for the feel of you around me.”

“It sounded awesome.”

“Let Trey copy that down before you go bone her again,” Sed said. “We don’t want to lose it.”

Brian dropped a kiss behind her ear and backed away reluctantly.

“Or I could take a picture of it.” Eric fished his camera phone out of his pocket.

“If you do, I’l break your fingers,” Brian said.

“You’re no fun, Be-rye.”

“You just want jerk-off material.”

Trey located some music score paper and a pencil in a guitar case. He started copying Brian’s guitar solo off Myrna’s back, asking Brian for clarification now and again. Very ticklish, Myrna giggled and squirmed as their fingers trailed over her bare skin.

“What’s this note?” Trey asked.

“I think that’s a mole.” Brian leaned forward and licked a spot in the center of Myrna’s lower back. She shuddered. Brian rubbed the spot with his thumb. “Yeah, it’s a mole. It doesn’t come off.”

“I’m adding it in for the hel of it.” Trey chuckled.

“Myr, your mole is interrupting my solo.”

She snorted. “You guys are too funny.”

“I think it’s a great ad***ion,” Trey said. “You can never have too many high C’s in a solo.”

“I like Hi-C,” Eric quipped. When no one laughed, he murmured, “The orange kind.”

“Turn around so we can get the riff,” Brian said.

Myrna turned. Holding the robe’s sash over her br**sts, she watched them transfer the dots scattered across her body to paper.

“Sixteenth notes there,” Brian said, watching over Trey’s shoulder. He pointed to the page.

“Sixteenth? You’re giving me arthritis, man.”

“Don’t be a douche.”

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Trey took the sucker out of his mouth and tapped it on Brian’s nose. Myrna stole it from him and stuck it in her mouth. Trey glanced up at her, pinning her with his ***y, green eyes. “That’s my sucker.” That was the look that turned female legs to rubber. Myrna was no exception. She leaned against the table for support.

She pul ed his sucker out of her mouth and offered it back to him. “My apologies.”

Trey took it from her and returned it to his mouth, turning his attention to the score sheets. Brian wiped at the sticky spot on his nose with his knuckles. Myrna’s gaze moved to Brian’s soft brown eyes. He was watching her, his lips slightly parted. She wondered what he was thinking.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

Obviously not what she was thinking, but now that he mentioned it, she was hungry. “Yeah.”

“I’m starving. I’m gonna go cal room service.” He poked Trey in the arm. “Can you finish this on your own?”

“Yeah, I got it. I played it ten times already.”

Brian kissed Myrna on the temple and lifted his guitar strap over his head. He set the instrument on a stand and left the room. Sed and Eric fol owed him. Jace stil thumbed a quiet bass groove in the corner, switching it out several times as he sought the perfect sound to compliment Brian’s new riff.

When the group was out of earshot, Trey said, “Don’t destroy him, Myrna. Brian fal s fast and hard. Chicks can’t handle his intensity and he ends up getting hurt.”

“No worries. We’re just having a good time.”

He took her chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “I mean it, Myrna. If you’re not serious about him, you have to get out now.”

“How can I be serious about someone I just met?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Every time.” He opened his eyes and pinned her with a heavy stare. “We told you he was a romantic retard last night. Did you hear any of it?”

She pushed his hand away. “I won’t hurt him, Trey. Okay?”

“I hope you mean that.”

He stared her down until she had to look away. And he thought Brian was intense? Jeez!

“Leave her alone, Trey,” Jace said.

“Am I wrong?” Trey said over his shoulder.

“No, but that’s not her fault.”

Trey looked at her again. He sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“He’s lucky to have someone who cares so much about him.”

Trey ****ed an eyebrow at her and laughed. “Yeah, I guess. One or the other of us always has our nose in his business. Just forget I said anything.”

Trey finished scribing the last few lines of music. Myrna closed her robe and tied it with the sash. She sat in one of the dining chairs and listened to Jace play, her foot tapping in time. Trey spread the score sheets across the table and started playing again, pausing every few measures to add a second set of rapid notes above Brian’s sustained notes. Trey’s signature shred complimented Brian’s wail. It’s what made them sound so good when they played together. Moments later Brian returned, picked up his guitar and joined his band mates. The new composition already sounded like a song. It amazed Myrna how quickly each guitarist had adapted a single riff to fit their particular styles and strengths.

Sed entered the room and sat in the center of the dining room table with his eyes closed. Puzzled, Myrna watched him. He seemed to be in some sort of trance.

When the guitarists returned to the beginning of the riff, Sed sang, or more like screamed, “It came to me in a dream.”

“You could cal her that,” Brian yel ed.

Trey laughed and shoved him.

Was this how they always wrote songs? The privilege of witnessing their process sent shivers of excitement racing down Myrna’s spine.

“Okay, okay,” Sed said. “That sucked even for my first attempt.”

That sucked? It had sounded great to her. Sed’s voice was low, with an edgy rasp that made various parts of her anatomy swel in response.

Sed continued, “Maybe if I bone Myrna, the lyrics wil come to me. What did you just cal it, Brian? Magical y.”

“Shut up,” Brian said, working on a bridge to the solo with Trey now.

“Magical y delicious,” Myrna murmured, watching Brian play and wanting his fingers on her body instead of his guitar. Sed burst out laughing. He fel back on the table, covering his eyes with the palms of his hands as tears of mirth streamed down his cheeks. “I wonder if we can use that in a song without getting sued by a leprechaun.”

“****ing Myrna,” he sang in his signature growl, “is magical y delicious. Wooooaahhhh. Ohh. Ohhh. Yeaaahh eahh eahhh.”

Myrna covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. She slapped Sed on his bare bel y. “Don’t sing that.”

He leaned off the edge of the table and grabbed her around the waist, digging his fingers into her ribs. She laughed and wriggled from side to side, trying to throw him off. Brian’s guitar protested loudly as he leaned across the table and grabbed Sed by one leg.

“Knock it off, Sed. I’m not playing,” Brian said.

Sed released Myrna, who tumbled to the floor. “I’m just teasing her. I’m not after your chick, dude.”

“Bul ****,” Brian said. “You’re after every guy’s chick. Especial y mine.”

Sed sat up and shoved Brian. “Get off me.”

Brian let go of Sed’s leg and lifted his fist to pound him. Myrna jumped to her feet and stepped between them, cringing as she waited for the blow of Brian’s fist to connect. It never did.

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“Please, don’t fight,” she said. She laid the palms of her hands on Brian’s chest. He lowered his fist and she smiled up at him in relief. “Thank you.” She leaned close, his guitar digging into her bel y. “I only want you, Brian.” She kissed the spot just beneath his ear, her fingers curling into his hard chest. “Only you. Trust me, okay?”

His hands stole around her back to draw her closer. She caught Trey’s grin of approval out of the corner of her eye.

“Breakfast!” Eric cal ed.

A hotel worker, looking frazzled and overwhelmed, pushed a cart into the room. Eric moved around him and sat at the table with a drumstick in each hand. He pounded his fists on the table. “Let’s eat. Let’s eat.”

Sed rol ed off the table and sat in a chair. A muscle in his jaw flexed, but he didn’t say anything. The hotel worker began to unload the cart, spreading a veritable feast across the table.

Eric lifted lids off plates of food and tossed the covers back on the cart. About half of them hit his target, the rest clattered across the floor. “Mine!” he declared when he found a fluffy omelet smothered in jalapeno peppers. Sed reached for his plate of eggs over medium and ham. The three guitarists removed their instruments before joining the rest of the band at the table. Myrna wasn’t sure what to do. They hadn’t asked her what she wanted, so she didn’t want to steal someone else’s food. Not that there was a shortage. They’d ordered more than enough for fifteen people.

“I didn’t know what you’d want,” Brian explained, “so I ordered a bunch of stuff.”

She smiled. Sweet *** god. Yep, that was Brian. He handed the now doubly frazzled hotel worker a tip and then sat at the head of the table, pul ing Myrna onto his lap.

“Oh puke,” Trey said, grinning. “Don’t get al lovey-dovey in front of us.”

Brian flipped him off and then tugged a bowl of fruit, a plate of scrambled eggs, pancakes, biscuits and bacon towards them.

“What’s your pleasure?” he asked.

Being this close to him had stolen her appetite for food. A different sort of appetite had awakened. She leaned close to his ear.

“Your ****.”

His hand slid under her robe and up her thigh. She tensed.

“That’s the second course,” he whispered.

“I guess I can wait a few minutes. So long as you promise me dessert, too.”

His fingers slid under the elastic band of her panties and brushed one swol en labium. Her body shuddered.

“That’s a promise.”

When he moved his hand above the table to start eating, she relaxed.

She settled for nibbling on chunks of melon while Brian polished off a plate of scrambled eggs drenched with ketchup and several pieces of bacon, also drenched with ketchup. She poured him a glass of orange juice and insisted he drink it al .

“Sickening,” Trey said, stil grinning. “Wil you look at them? Al domestic-y.”

“He needs his strength,” Myrna said, glancing at Trey who sat to her right eating his pancakes smothered in syrup and his sausage, also smothered in syrup. She popped a piece of melon in Brian’s mouth. “I’m horny.”

Eric proceeded to bang his head repeatedly on the table.

Sed laughed. “And you’re wasting your time with Sinclair?”

“Trust me, he’s no waste of time. Guitar isn’t his only talent.”

Brian squeezed her thigh in appreciation. She wondered how much **** he took from these guys for being a romantic. His nose brushed against her neck. “I’m ful now.”

Her bel y tightened with need. “Good, because my panties can’t get any more saturated.”

“****. ****. ****.” Eric punctuated his head banging against the table with curses.

“Bath?” Brian asked, looking up at her.

She cupped his cheek and leaned her forehead against his. “It’l wash off your song.”

“We’ve got that one on paper. I’m hoping I’l need a blank slate to write a new one.”

She smiled. “I didn’t think of that.”

She slid from his lap and secured her robe before heading toward the bathroom. As she walked past Sed, she heard him say, “I hope the groupies are ready for a good, hard f**k tonight. Goddamn, the pheromones are thick in here. I’ve got a proximity hard-on.”

“Brian gets al the good pu**y,” Eric moped.

Brian laughed and slapped Eric on the back as he fol owed Myrna to the bathroom. She entered the large room, delighted by the Jacuzzi tub in the corner. “Nice.”

Brian closed the door and pul ed her back against his bel y. He released the sash of her robe and pushed the fabric aside. Her br**sts ached as he massaged them with the palms of his hands and her breath quickened as he suckled the side of her neck.

“Are you real y horny or did you just want to get away from the guys?” he asked.

She drew his hand to the moist heat between her thighs. “What do you think?”

His fingers stroked her through pink lace. He turned her body to face the wal . Her eyes flipped open lazily and she caught her reflection in the mirror. Their eyes met over her shoulder in the reflective glass. So he wanted to watch her when he made her come. He didn’t have to wait long. His fingers stroked faster. Faster. Faster. Her eyes slid closed, her mouth fel open, and she leaned her head back against his shoulder as ripples of pleasure shook her core. She cried out, clutching his thighs for support. He rubbed the tip of his nose against the rim of her ear. “You’re so ***y, Myr. This time I’m going to hold you first. I don’t want to get carried away and miss out again.”

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He released her and moved to the bathtub, turning the taps and testing the water with his fingers. His wonderful, mesmerizing fingers. Watching him play had worked her up more than she’d realized. She moved behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, unfastening his belt and the fly of his jeans. She rearranged his boxers until his half-hard c**k sprang free. She took it in her hand, stroking its smooth length gently.

He caught her hand. “Wait. I don’t even have my boots off yet.”

“Your point?”

His point is you’re being a whore again, Myrna. Jeremy’s voice sent delight spiraling out of reach. She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly.

Brian turned and peeled her robe from her shoulders, leaving it in a puddle on the tile floor. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Something wrong?” His thumb brushed her cheek and she opened her eyes to look at him.

“No.” She forced a smile and put her hands on her hips, eyeing his state of dress with disdain. “How is this fair?” she asked. He stripped himself naked in seconds. His gaze slowly drifted down to her pink lace panties. “How is this fair?” he countered. She peeled her panties down her thighs and removed them. She looped a finger in the elastic band and shot them at his face like a slingshot. He caught them, drew them to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Can I keep these?”

“If you like.”

He bent and tucked her panties into his pants pocket. He then climbed the stairs to the tub, stepped into the water, and extended a hand in her direction. She took his hand and climbed into the tub with him, standing before him. Staring up at him, she traced the angled contours of his face with her gaze—strong jaw, pointed chin, sharp cheekbones. Eventual y, her eyes settled on the upper curve of his beguiling lips. He lowered his head and kissed her passionately—lips, tongue and teeth al caressing her mouth. The water rose up their calves as his kiss continued. When he drew away, he gazed down at her.

“You’d better turn off the water,” she said.

He turned off the taps and sank into the water’s warm depths, holding his arms out in invitation. She sat between his thighs, leaning back against his chest. The Jacuzzi jets startled her.

“Feels good.” He leaned his head back against the edge of the deep tub and sighed. Myrna hadn’t joined him here to relax, but she couldn’t argue. It did feel good. It felt even better when he began to rub a tiny bar of soap over her chest and bel y. Though his touch wasn’t meant to entice, she was panting with need in moments.

“So do you live nearby?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Um….” She didn’t real y want to share personal information with him. This was a quick affair. Nothing more. “No, I’m just here for the conference. Which I’m missing, by the way.”

“If you’d rather go—”

“I didn’t say that.”

He set the soap aside, wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned the side of his head against hers. “Quiet is nice sometimes.”

She supposed his life would be consistently loud. So he wanted to talk quietly and cuddle. She shouldn’t complain. She could wait a of couple minutes.

“Do any of your tattoos mean anything special?” She trailed a finger down his hard-muscled arm and the intricate, colorful artwork there.

“Some of them.” He lifted his left arm out of the water and showed her an elaborate display of bloody roses around the name Kara on the inside of his forearm.

“Old girlfriend?” she asked, tracing the letter K with her fingertip.

“My little sister. She died in a car accident when she was sixteen.”

Myrna glanced up at him, noting the raw pain on his face. “I’m sorry, Brian. That’s horrible.”

“It happened almost ten years ago. You’d think I’d be able to bury it by now.”

“She was your little sister. You thought you could always protect her.”

He smiled slightly. “How did you know that?”

She shrugged, not wanting to slip back into psychology professor mode again.

“Do you have siblings?” he asked.

“Two younger sisters. Both pains in my ass.”

“Kara was a pain in the ass, too.” He chuckled. “I stil miss her.”

Did he always wear his heart on his sleeve? He must. Even when naked.

“So if you’re not from Chicago,” he said, “where are you from?”

“Missouri.”

“Saint Louis?”

“Does it matter?”

“You have no interest in getting to know me, do you?”

She’d promised Trey she wouldn’t hurt him. She just wished it were harder to do. She knew this relationship could never resemble something significant. He was a rock star on tour. She was a professor with a demanding career. They just didn’t… fit.

“Country girl, original y. I went to col ege in Columbia, Missouri. Grad school in Saint Louis. I’m in Kansas City now.”

“So you’re not too far from home.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“L.A.”

She grinned. “Cliché.”

“They warned you that I was a romantic retard, didn’t they?”

She turned her head to glance up at him. “Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb. You don’t have to walk on eggshel s, Myr. If I’m stupid enough to fal in love with you in twelve hours, I deserve to have my heart broken.”

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“I don’t intend to break anyone’s heart.”

“I don’t think anyone intends to break hearts.” He paused. “Wel , Sed, maybe. I’d just like a few minutes with something a little more permanent than a f**king tour bus, you know?”

“I understand, but—”

“Even if I’m just pretending.”

“Brian, if I’m not careful, the person who is going to get their heart broken is me.”

“We could always try to make something out of this.”

“It’s just not pos—” He covered her mouth with one hand.

“Okay, don’t say it. Just let me pretend then.” He kissed her temple and moved his hand from her mouth to her breast. “I’l get real y drunk tomorrow to try to forget you.”

“Brian.”

“I’m kidding. If you want no strings, no strings you’l get.”

She didn’t know if she believed him, but she felt a measure of relief. Her career was complicated enough. She didn’t have time for a serious relationship. Especial y a long distance one that had no chance of success. And after Jeremy… She forced thoughts of her ex-husband out of her mind.

Brian lifted her from her comfortable position against his chest and set her in the middle of the tub. “I’l scrub the ink off your back.”

He reached for the tiny bar of soap.

She sat quietly, her knees drawn up to her chest, while he washed her back. The silence between them hung uncomfortably. She wondered how she could break the ice again. Was he mad at her? It was better to be honest with him, wasn’t it? But he said he wanted to pretend, so maybe he didn’t want honesty at al .

She glanced over her shoulder to find him smiling to himself. He didn’t look mad, more like amused.

“I wonder if I can get another twenty solos or so out of our time together,” he said.

“Twenty?” Her eyes widened. “But I’m leaving after your concert tonight.”

“So am I.”

She grinned. “We’d better get busy then.”

He laughed and placed an open-mouthed kiss on her shoulder. “I don’t think you’ve got it in you.”

She splashed water in his face. “Hey! You’re the one who wanted to cuddle.”

He chuckled. The cruelty behind his laugh caused a shiver to run down her spine.

“I’m done cuddling.”

He slid her body in front of the Jacuzzi jet and lifted her slightly so the water gushed down the crack of her ass and between her legs. She shuddered. She leaned back against the edge of the tub, her bent elbows resting on the rim to hold herself over the pulsating water. Brian moved between her legs and took his c**k in one hand. He rubbed its swol en head over her clit and then gently probed her aching opening. She squirmed, wanting him to thrust into her quickly. The stimulation of the water and his gentle probing was more than she could take.

She opened her eyes and found him watching her. “Are you going to f**k me or not?”

He lunged forward, fil ing her in one deep thrust. “Is that what you want?”

She moaned, her head fal ing back. “Yes, yes, that’s what I want.”

He backed away and then thrust into her again, lifting her out of the water jet. She gasped when he withdrew slightly and her ass sank back into the pulsating water. Her body jerked.

He kissed her gently, his cruelty evaporating. “Do you like that?”

“I like everything you do to me, Brian.” She rubbed her nose against his.

He smiled lovingly.

“Everything except how you make me wait,” she added.

His lips brushed hers. “I won’t make you wait any longer.”

His buried himself inside of her and withdrew rhythmical y now. His little gasps of pleasure gave her goose bumps. She looked up at him. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, as he lost himself in the feel of her body and the constant shift of the Jacuzzi jet over their combined genitals. God, he was ***y.

The bathroom door opened. Myrna stiffened. Brian paused and looked over his shoulder.

“Don’t mind me.” Eric entered the room and closed the door. “I’ve gotta take a piss.”

Brian shrugged and thrust into Myrna again. As she was no longer relaxed, his c**k rammed into her cervix. “Ow,” she gasped. He paused and looked down at her. “Did I hurt you?” He kissed her tenderly. “I’m sorry.”

She forced herself to relax, trying to ignore Eric who was standing at the toilet, flooding it with a steady stream of urine. Eric didn’t bother to pretend he wasn’t watching them. He openly gawked.

She looked into Brian’s eyes and smiled. “I’m fine.”

“Should I stop?”

“No.”

She expected him to wait until Eric had left, but he immediately started thrusting into her again, grinding into her now. She cried out as an orgasm caught her unexpectedly.

“Oh God, Brian. Yes!”

“I hear it again,” he whispered, thrusting harder and deeper. He hummed a new riff. Was he real y hearing music? She was seeing stars. He was so good.

“Eric,” he said. “Eric.”

She opened her eyes, surprised he was cal ing out the name of his drummer while he made love to her. Eric moved to stand beside the tub, holding his crotch as if in pain. “Threesome, dude?” he asked hopeful y. Brian shook his head. “I need you to hold her. I’ve got to get deeper.”