Backstage Pass / Page 7

Page 7


Loading...
Author: Olivia Cunning


“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 fucking 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 breasts and pinch her nipples 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-sex 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 sex 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.


“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 sexy,” 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 sexier 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 Shithead I hear?” Eric’s voice came from a room off to the right. “Goes out and gets himself some Certified Grade A pussy while leaving us high and…” He paused in the doorway, his eyes racking over Myrna’s disheveled hair, bathrobe, and bare feet. “Shit. 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 breasts 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 breasts. “…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.”


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 breasts. It covered her nipples but little else.


“That’s almost worse,” Trey murmured. “Uhn. She’s so goddamned sexy. 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 breasts, 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 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.


Prev Next
Loading...