Insider (Exodus End #1) (57 page)

“No, right now I need to be tender and you need to stop asking so many questions.”

“But what if I don’t know what to do?”

“You’ll know.”

He ground his still-clothed erection into her clit and then shifted his hips so that his cock was massaging her opening through their clothes. She groaned, surprised by how much she wanted him already. How much she always wanted him. She wondered how couples ever left their beds. Would the passion between them always blaze this brightly? God, she hoped so.

She opened her mouth to ask him what he wanted her to do, but snapped it closed again when she remembered he no longer wanted to instruct her. At least not formally. Did he want her to initiate their lovemaking? Or was he just going to drive her nuts by rubbing himself against her so that she was undeniably aware of what she was currently missing thanks to his jeans and her sleep shorts?

She tugged at his shirt impatiently—wanting him naked, wanting to feel the warm skin of his belly against hers and the hairs on his chest to tease her nipples. She wanted him inside her, filling her with slow deep thrusts, staring into her eyes, stroking her hair, stealing deep lingering kisses. Was it strange that with all the adventurous positions they’d tried, missionary was her favorite? She found staring into his eyes beguilingly intimate and while it might not be the best position for her to get off quickly, it was definitely the best position to fulfill her.

Logan stripped his shirt off over his head and tossed it aside. She filled her hands with hot, smooth flesh—his back, shoulders, arms, and chest. She couldn’t get enough of him. Doubted she’d ever get enough. Her hands moved down his chest, and he shifted so she could fumble with his fly. When his cock sprang free—hard, long, and thick in her hand—she was too impatient to remove her clothes. Pushing her sleep shorts and panties to one side, she guided him into her waiting body, gasping as they became one.

His strokes were slow and deep and drove her crazy as her panties dug into her clit every time their bodies came together.

“Why is it always so good with you?” he asked.

She had no answer for him. She had no means of comparison.

“Is it because I’ve taught you how to please me?” He brushed the hair from her face, staring deep into her eyes as he took her. Slow and deep. Slow and deep. “Is it because I know no man but me has ever been with you like this?” His hand slid under her top to caress her breast, bringing her to new heights when his fingertips found its sensitive tip. “Or is it because I love you?”

“That,” she said.

He bent his head and kissed her gently, grinding his hips to take her deeper. “I think it’s all those things,” he whispered against her lips. “Promise you won’t go after the tour ends. Stay with me.”

She couldn’t exactly promise that. She wasn’t sure what would happen after her assignment ended. She did know she didn’t have a passport, so she couldn’t leave the country. How long did it take to get a passport? “I’ll try.”

He buried his face in her neck, his thrusts slow and gentle. “I need you with me.”

Her fingers moved to tangle with his hair. “And I need to be with you. We’ll make this work, Logan.”

He lifted his head to look down at her. “But how?”

“How does a woman get a brainy guy to stop thinking while he’s fucking her?”

He chuckled and kissed her. “She gets on top.”

Well, that solved one of their problems.

Thirty-One

While the band waited for curtain call in Albuquerque, Toni switched on one of the videos she’d recorded a few days before and leaned back into the sofa. The entire band had gathered in the dressing room so they could watch their footage. All five of them had been gracious enough to wear rather unflattering headbands with cameras attached to the sides of their heads so she could get video of their individual perspectives while they performed.

“Okay, wait,” Reagan said, leaning close to the laptop screen and squinting at a leather-encased ass. “Whose camera is this?”

Dare laughed. “Considering that all we’ve seen so far is Max’s ass, I’d say it’s yours.”

“I didn’t know you stared at my ass onstage,” Max said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Is there something you’d like to share with the group?”

“I don’t stare at your ass!” Reagan insisted.

“It’s not Reagan’s feed,” Toni said. She’d checked the label several times to be sure. She snorted and covered her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Then whose is it?” Max asked, looking rather green around the gills all of a sudden.

“It’s Logan’s.” Toni burst out laughing.

“What the fuck, dude?” Max roared. “Why were you staring at my ass?”

“I wasn’t!”

“I think his camera was on crooked,” Toni said.

“Likely story,” Max grumbled.

They all turned their heads and squeezed their eyes shut as the camera focused directly on a spotlight overhead.

“Turn it off,” Steve said. “I want to see mine. It has to be better than this.”

“I just need a minute of good footage for each of you,” Toni said. “I’m sure there’s something usable on here.”

She fast-forwarded through half a minute of blinding-lights footage and then they were back to staring at Max’s ass.

“Turn it off!” Max insisted.

Toni replaced the SD card labeled
Logan
with the one labeled
Steve
. The recording of Steve rising from the stage was kind of cool, with his drum kit in the foreground and the arena coming into view behind it. But when he started to play, it was another story entirely.

“Pass the Dramamine!” Reagan shouted, sticking out a hand to block her view of the screen. Drums and sticks seemed to be flying at them in all directions as Steve banged his head to the beat while he played.

“Dear lord, Steve, do you ever hold still?” Dare asked. He swallowed hard and crinkled up his face in disgust.

“Some of us work hard for a living,” Steve said.

“Maybe we should try putting your camera on a stand behind you,” Toni said. “That way we can see you in action without giving ourselves whiplash.”

“That could work,” Logan said. “And you can put my camera on my bass stock so it’s not cockeyed and making it seem like I’m staring at Max’s ass.”

“You
were
staring at it,” Reagan said with a laugh. “And we have photographic evidence.”

Logan reached over and grabbed her knee, squeezing until she was bucking and laughing uncontrollably.

“Why don’t we see what Reagan’s got?” Steve suggested. “Since she’s so insistent on mocking the rest of us.”

“We don’t really need to watch two feeds of Max’s ass.” Toni winked at the man attached to that ass.

“Hey,” Reagan said, “there isn’t anything better to look at from the back of the stage.”

“Oh really?” Logan said, twisting his head to try to look at his own ass. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got it going on in the ass department.”

“If that’s what you need to believe to help your self-esteem,” Reagan said.

Logan grabbed her knee again, squeezing repeatedly until she bucked her giggling self off the sofa. “Boy crazy,” Logan said. “Not that we’re surprised.”

“So we want to see Reagan’s next?” Toni asked.

“Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt,” Butch said from the dressing room door. “Can I see you on the bus for a minute?”

“All of us?” Dare asked.

“Uh.” Butch’s gaze fell on Toni. “Just the band.” He considered Logan for a second. “And not Logan.”

“Not Logan?” Max asked.

“It will take just a few minutes,” Butch said. He backed out of the doorway and disappeared around the corner.

Toni and Logan, exchanging puzzled looks, watched the others leave the room.

“Why didn’t he want to see you with the rest of them?” Toni asked.

Logan shrugged. “They’re probably planning a surprise party for my birthday or something.”

“Isn’t your birthday at the end of October?”

“Yeah, well maybe it’s a
big
surprise.”

He didn’t seem too concerned about being excluded, so Toni shrugged the oddity off.

“Do you think we should put cameras on all the instruments to get shots of your fingers moving?” Toni asked. “That might be interesting for the book.”

“Dare’s fingers, maybe, but mine just kind of go back and forth like . . .” He demonstrated playing two chords over and over again.

“So we’ll get shots of the audience with your bass cam.” She grinned at him. “If you can keep it off Max’s ass for a few minutes.”

He poked her in the ribs and she jerked sideways.

“You know what you should do?” he asked. “Get audience members to wear the head cams in a mosh pit. Since you’re too scared to crowd surf.”

She was definitely too scared to crowd surf.

Toni gave him a tight squeeze. “You’re brilliant! Yes, I should totally include that.”

“You’re the brilliant one,” he said. “You came up with the camera idea in the first place.”

She laughed and kissed him on the chin. “And I never would have thought of it if you hadn’t made me watch your cliff-diving and bungee-jumping experiences.”

“Not sure how covering your eyes in horror is considered
watching
.” He smirked at her.

“See, if I can’t watch, there’s no way I’d be able to do it myself.”

“Just like you couldn’t skydive?”

“You threw me out of that plane, Logan Schmidt.”

“So I guess I’ll have to throw you off a bridge sometime.”

“You have to get me
on
the bridge first.”

Logan glanced around the room, looking a bit lost without his bandmates surrounding him. “Do you want to watch Sinners tonight?”

Toni clapped her hands together excitedly. “I would love to.” She hadn’t had the opportunity to watch Sinners perform a show yet. She’d been too busy collecting material for her book, and the hour before Exodus End performed always seemed to be the most hectic of her day.

“We’d better hurry. I think they’re starting soon.”

Logan led her through several corridors and into the arena. A few stagehands lit their own paths with flashlights, but otherwise it was dark behind the stage. Before Logan and Toni reached the wings, the lights flashed on and the unmistakable wail of Brian “Master” Sinclair’s guitar started the intro of their first song. Toni dashed up the stage steps, not wanting to miss anything. The rest of the band joined the guitar, and then Sed Lionheart screamed out his trademark battle cry.

Toni cheered with the rest of the crowd, her heart thudding with excitement. Several lines into the first verse, Sed’s voice cracked and he lowered his mic midverse. The rest of the band fell silent, first the guitars, then the bass and drums. His bandmates looked to Sed for direction.

“You okay?” Trey asked into his microphone.

Sed nodded. “From the top.”

His eyes sparkled brightly in the stage lights, but he quickly squeezed them shut.

“What’s going on?” Toni asked Logan, who shook his head and shrugged.

The song started over again. Lead guitar followed by rhythm, bass, and drums. Sed’s battle cry. This time Sed didn’t even make it through the first line before he lowered his mic and turned his back to the crowd. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and took several deep breaths. His three guitarists quickly surrounded him, talking to him out of range of the mic, patting him comfortingly on the back or arm. Nodding and gesturing, they seemed to come to some consensus, and Sed turned back to the agitated crowd.

“I’m sorry,” he said to his audience. “I thought I could do this tonight. I thought performing would make it easier, take my mind off things.” He swallowed hard and pressed his lips together, obviously fighting tears. After a moment, he continued, “I received a call from my sister just before the show. This afternoon, my father passed away unexpectedly.”

The bottom fell out of Toni’s chest, and her heart sank with it. She pressed her fingertips against her lips to stop their trembling. She knew exactly what he was going through and wondered if he’d appreciate any words of comfort from her—not that words were any comfort when a beloved parent passed away—but she wanted to reach out to him in some way.

“So I need a minute to pull my shit together so I can sing.” He laughed hollowly and swiped a stray tear from his cheek. “Knew I should have taken up drums.”

“Nope,” Logan said as he rushed onstage. He covered Sed’s mic with one hand and leaned in close to speak to Sed.

Toni strained her ears for threads of their conversation, but the murmur of the crowd prevented her from hearing anything. There were vehement head shakes on Sed’s part followed by him tilting his head to listen to whatever Logan was saying. After a moment, Sed smiled at Logan, nodded, and gave him a hearty pat on the back.

Sed lifted his microphone and said to the crowd, “I’m going to leave you in good hands here.”

He handed the mic to Logan and jogged offstage. His fiancée, Jessica, who had been waiting at the edge of the stage, wrapped him in her arms. He leaned into her for support, seeming to breathe in her strength, and then took her hand and left via the steps.

Confused, as was everyone else, apparently, Toni turned her attention back to the stage.