Backstage Pass / Page 4

Page 4


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Author: Olivia Cunning


“Kissing you.”


“I never kiss on the first date.”


“This is our second date.”


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


Her fingers slid up his back and tangled in the longish hair at his nape. She closed her eyes and leaned closer. He rested his forearms on the door on either side of her head and tested her eagerness with a gentle brush of his lips against hers. Though his body told him to devour her, his partial y functioning brain wanted to treasure the feel of her soft lips against his for the first time. His hands curled into tight fists over her head so they wouldn’t rip off her clothes. He watched her through half-closed eyes as his lips caressed hers. She responded with total submission—mouth open, body limp, fingers digging into his scalp as if she were trying to control herself. It drove him crazy. And that wasn’t the only thing driving him crazy. The taste of her mouth, her scent, her warm, soft body against his, the barely perceptible sound of longing she made in the back of her throat. Her tongue brushed his lip. His body tensed as if he’d been struck by lightning. She withdrew her tongue, coaxing his into her mouth with gentle strokes. He eagerly fol owed, caressing her lips with the tip of his tongue, and then touched her tongue with his. When her tongue tentatively caressed his in return, his eyes drifted closed. After several moments, he pul ed away and gazed down at her in the low light coming from the bathroom.


“I didn’t ask you to come to my room for this,” she murmured.


“You didn’t?”


She shook her head. “No, but you’re such a good kisser.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. He grinned and lowered his head to kiss her again. He pushed off the door and pul ed her against him, his hands sliding down over the swel of her ass as he molded their lower bodies together. When was the last time a woman had worked him into a frenzy so quickly? Uh, never. He moved backward, toward the bed, drawing her along with him. She dug her heels into the carpet and wrenched her head to the side.


“I never have sex on a second date,” she said firmly.


“This is our third date.”


She wagged a finger at him. “That only works once, Master Sinclair.”


Her use of his stage name cooled him off significantly, but he stil wanted her. Desperately. What was it about her that made his blood boil? She was so different from the girls he usual y dated. So… proper? But no, not proper at al .


“How about I step into the hal for a couple of minutes and then return?” he suggested. She laughed. “Brian, you’re drunk. I don’t sleep with drunks.”


He scowled. “But I’l be sober in the morning.”


Her hands slid down his back to his ass. She pul ed him closer, crushing his partial y engorged cock against her pubic bone.


“Promise?”


He gazed down at her, a lazy smile on his lips. “Oh, I get it. You’re a cock tease.”


She grinned. “Cocks were made to be teased.” She rotated her hips, rubbing against him. He groaned, growing harder. More distracted.


“Besides… you like it,” she said.


Her naughty streak was showing, twinkling in her green-flecked, hazel eyes. And yeah, he liked it. He liked it a hel of a lot. “Are you sure?”


“Positive. I have a PhD in cock-tease-ology.”


“Was that an honorary degree?”


She laughed. “I’ve studied it for years. I’m something of an expert.”


He sighed. “Okay. So if I’m not going to get laid, why did you ask me to come to your room?”


“I already told you. I want to help you with your condition.”


“So you said. And that’s why I hurried up here, instead of passing out under the table in the lounge.”


“Sit down.”


He didn’t want to let her go, her soft curves fit against him so perfectly, but she wriggled out of his arms and disappeared into the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the bed to stop the room from spinning.


She returned a moment later and pressed two pil s into his hand. “Ecstasy?” He tossed the pil s in his mouth without looking at them. She handed him a sports drink and he swal owed the pil s.


“Actual y, that was Vitamin B and Vitamin C,” she said. “Drink that entire bottle.”


“You’re giving me vitamins?” He cocked an eyebrow at her and took another drink from the bottle.


“They’l prevent a hangover.” She went over to a side cabinet and returned with a banana. He eyed the piece of fruit warily. “I’m not that kinky, Professor Sex.”


She grinned. “I was hoping you are.”


“Okay, I am.” His cock throbbed. Ful y erect now, it tried desperately to break free of the fly of his jeans. Was she real y going to leave him in this condition? She’d said she would help him with it. And this wasn’t helping. At al . She stood close to him, his knee between hers. The hem of her skirt brushed his thigh. He wanted to put more under that skirt than his knee. The silk of her top pul ed against her breasts when she moved. Such nice breasts. So soft against his chest. The only thing keeping his hands off them was the orange-flavored sports drink he gripped with both hands. Wel that, and the fear she’d tel him he did not have permission to touch her.


She peeled the banana, broke off a chunk, and slid it in his mouth. “Eat it. It wil settle your stomach and also help prevent a hangover.”


He chewed the piece of banana and swal owed. “You’re taking care of me?”


“Trying to. Are you resisting?”


Taking her hand, he kissed the inside of her wrist gently. “I like it. Can I do something for you?” He flicked his tongue against the inside of her wrist suggestively while looking up at her.


Her fingers curled involuntarily and her nipples hardened beneath her thin, white top. He found himself completely immersed in her. Her scent. The sound of her soft voice. The taste of her skin. And her body? Perfect. How much resistance would she offer if he tossed her down on the bed and tried to have his way with her?


“Grrrr.” Uh… Did he just growl? He hoped he’d imagined it.


She tugged her hand from his and took a step away. She seemed to realize he wasn’t as harmless as she’d first gauged. “Sleep it off, Brian. And I might let you make it up to me tomorrow.”


She broke off another piece of banana and pressed it into his mouth. He chewed, swal owed, and chased the banana with the rest of his sports drink. He set the empty bottle on the side table and placed a hand on the back of her leg, just above her knee. She emitted an excited little gasp.


He grinned up at her. “You’d better get some rest then. You’l need your stamina.”


“So wil you.” She fed him more banana and shifted sideways out of his grasp. “Do you need me to help you get back to your room?”


He frowned. “I can’t stay here?” If he returned to the band’s hotel suite tonight, he’d never hear the end of it from the guys. It made his head swim to look up at her, but he did it anyway. He liked to look at her. Gorgeous. Feminine. Mature. No girl, she was al woman. She maintained an outer appearance of propriety, but he sensed an undercurrent of blazing-hot sexuality. He’d never been with a woman like her. Sophisticated sensuality. What would she be like in bed? Reserved? Kinky? Passionate? Placid?


Dominant? Submissive? He had to know.


She touched his lips with her fingertip. “If I let you stay, do you promise to behave?”


“Absolutely not.”


Her finger moved from his lips to trace his eyebrow. “In that case, I insist.”


He moaned and fel back on the bed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Why did I have to get so drunk?”


“Take off your boots and climb into bed.”


“Do I get a goodnight kiss, at least?” he murmured. His eyes refused to open. His body went limp as he lost awareness.


***


Myrna leaned over Brian and pressed a goodnight kiss to his forehead. The poor guy had passed out cold. She bent to remove his black leather boots, took the spiked bracelet off his wrist and removed a long, silver chain from his belt loop. She rol ed him onto his side, in case he threw up in the middle of the night, and covered him with a blanket. She watched him sleep for a moment.


Brian Sinclair.


Brian Sinclair, the renowned guitarist.


Brian “Master” Sinclair, guitar hero, rock god, perfect specimen of a man, was passed out in her hotel room! He’d kissed her. God, how he’d kissed her. If she didn’t have rules about when she al owed herself to have sex with a new acquaintance, he’d probably be making love to her right now. She seriously needed to amend her rules. Her body ached with wanting him. The man was too sexy for his own good.


She gnawed her lower lip as she watched him sleep. Would he stil be interested in her when he wasn’t looking at her through beer goggles? Their age difference weighed heavily on her mind. She was at least seven years his senior, but she looked younger than 35. Everyone said so. Maybe he wouldn’t realize… He’d probably figure it out tomorrow, though. She didn’t have the body of an eighteen-year-old anymore. She’d just have to show him that being with an older woman had certain advantages. Assuming he was interested. The way he looked at her had made her bones melt. And his strong, yet gentle, touch? Her legs had almost given out on her when he’d placed a hand on the back of her thigh. It had been way too long since she’d last had sex. That had to be the explanation for the lustful creature he’d awakened in her. She’d just get him out of her system and send him on his way. Myrna drew away from the bed to get ready to sleep with him. Heat rose to the surface of her skin. No, not sleep with him, sleep next to him. The ache between her thighs intensified. As she changed into her nightgown and hung her suit in the closet, she wondered if she’d ever get to sleep tonight. If she had any sense at al , she would have made him go back to his room, but he’d kissed her entirely senseless. She went through her nightly routine and then climbed into bed next to Brian, suddenly grateful that she’d taken a suite with a single king-sized bed, instead of one with two queens. With only one available bed, she had a perfectly good reason to share it with him. Right?


And with him passed out, he’d never know what she did to him while he slept.


She reached across the bed and took his hand, tracing his fingers in awe. She hadn’t just been making smal talk in the lounge. The man real y was a musical genius. These fingers worked magic on a fret board. She didn’t doubt they’d work magic on her skin. She gently kissed each fingertip of his left hand, and cradled it between her breasts. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her head enough to sleep. When Brian shifted and buried her under his hard body, she decided sleep was highly overrated.


Chapter 3


Moist heat trailed up the side of Myrna’s neck. She sighed, more asleep than awake. A gentle suction just under her ear drew a shudder from her body. She gave herself over to the feel of his mouth against her skin and the warm strength of his hard body behind her. The backs of his fingers brushed over the bare skin just beneath her navel. Her body tensed with need. His fingers slid beneath the waistband of her panties, teasing curls of hair as he sought her clit. She was so hot and swol en. How had he gotten her so worked up so quickly? His fingers stroked her with the speed, pressure, and rhythm required to bring her to orgasm in seconds.


“Oh God!” she cried as her body convulsed with release. She’d never climaxed so quickly in her life. She turned her head to seek his mouth with hers. She reached for him, her hand finding the warm skin of his arm. He’d removed his shirt while she’d been sleeping. A little more exploring found he stil wore his jeans. Damn. He kissed her, and then shifted her back against his chest with one hand splayed over her bare bel y. His other hand cupped her breast through her nightgown. He rested his chin on her shoulder and sighed.


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