Sinners On Tour 01 Backstage Pass (7 page)

“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 sexier 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 fucking morning.”

With a start of surprise, Jace noticed Myrna and his gaze drifted down his naked body. His eyes darted back to her. “Aw, shit.

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 breasts.

“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 addition,” 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 breasts, 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.”

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 sexy, 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 cocked 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.”

“Fucking 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 shit,” 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.

“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 sex 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 cock.”

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 shit 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.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” 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 fuck tonight. Goddamn, the pheromones are thick in here. I’ve got a proximity hard-on.”

“Brian gets al the good pussy,” 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 breasts ached as he massaged them with the palms of his hands and her breath quickened as he suckled the side of her neck.