Brian flushed the toilet and leaned against the stall door. He pressed the back of his wrist against his mouth and swallowed several times to fight his nausea.
No good.
He rushed forward and vomited into the toilet again. One day he would learn the limit of his alcohol tolerance. Apparently, today wasn't the day.
"Dude, do you need me to hold your hair for you?" Eric called from outside the stall. He snickered.
"Fuck you," Brian gasped, and threw up again.
"That's a lot of perfectly good beer you're wasting."
"If you want it, come get it."
Brian leaned against the cool, metal partition and flushed the toilet with his foot. He stood there for a moment and finally decided he felt well enough come out of the stall.
Eric looked at him hopefully. "Better?"
Brian nodded slightly.
"You've gotta stop letting chicks get to you."
Tell him something he didn't know.
Brian moved to the sink and rinsed his mouth with water several times before glancing in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes. Pale and waxy skin. He ran a hand over his slack face. "God, I look like shit."
"I don't notice any difference."
Brian held up the three centermost fingers of his right hand. "Read between the lines, asshole."
Eric looked more puzzled than usual. "I never learned to read."
"Here, let me help you." Brian bent his ring finger and index finger down, leaving his middle finger extended. "Do you know sign language?"
"Nope. Sorry." Eric punched him in the arm, thumbed his nose, and punched him again. Brian knew he'd feel those in the morning. Eric never held back in his blows. "You ready to go back? You sure made an ass of yourself in front of that classy babe."
"Thanks for the reminder." Luckily, Brian probably wouldn't remember any of it tomorrow.
"Come on. Let's go."
"What's your rush?" Brian asked.
"How often do you get to hang out with a sophisticated sexpot like her?"
"Besides last night when I boned your mom?"
"Dude, if I had a mom, I might take offense."
Brian scowled. Why had he said that? Being drunk was no excuse. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean…" He rubbed his face vigorously with both hands. "Fuck."
"If we don't hurry back, Sed will be all over that sweet piece of ass."
Brian splashed some cool water on his face. "Yeah, so what's new?" Sed was all over every sweet piece of ass.
"It's totally unfair. Sed gets all the pussy."
All of them did fine with that. Couldn't complain. Actually, it would do Brian good to lay off the pussy for a while. "We all get plenty."
"But Sed gets all the good pussy. This is Certified Grade A pussy we're talking about, Be-Rye. He's probably already got her on her back with her ankles around his neck." He tilted his head back and did his best chick-getting-laid-by-Sed impression. "Oh Sed. Yes. Yes. Sed. Ohhhh!"
Brian rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You're an ass, Eric. You know that?"
"I'd like a piece of ass. I do know that. Hurry the fuck up or I'm going back without you."
Brian dried his face on a paper towel and headed for the bathroom exit. "All right then, let's go get you some Certified Grade A pussy." He clapped Eric on the back, walking without any assistance now. Eric had no chance with Myrna if Sed had his sights on her. But hey, a guy could dream.
When they reached the table, Brian found Myrna sitting demurely next to Sed. All her clothes were still in place. Sed's hand wasn't up her skirt. They weren't even making out. In fact, they were talking and laughing. Even Jace, who said fewer than five words in the average day, chatted quietly with the Certified Grade A Sex Professor. When Brian's shadow crossed her face, Myrna glanced up at him and smiled brightly. She had a great smile, flashing perfect, white teeth between soft, kissable lips.
"Are you feeling better?" She looked him over with genuine concern.
Don't do that, he thought. I'm still trying to get over what's-her-face. Angie. Yeah. I'm trying to get over Angie.
Brian glanced at Sed, who avoided his accusatory glare by finding Jace uncommonly interesting.
Angie… Brian's heart panged unpleasantly and he clenched his fist.
That fucking slut.
"Yeah, I feel a little better," he said to Myrna.
"He blew chunks," Eric found necessary to inform everyone.
Myrna patted the seat next to her, which apparently signaled Eric to shove Brian out of the way so he could sit next to her. She laughed and hugged Eric's arm. "Thanks for taking care of Brian."
Eric beamed. "Hey, no problem. That's what friends are for."
Fuckhead.
Brian took a seat next to Trey, who lounged on the bench across from Myrna with a lollipop stick protruding from his mouth. Trey had to be the only guy on earth who could make sucking on a lollipop look cool. He'd given up smoking a few months ago, but still needed something in his mouth at all times. His dentist made a killing.
"So are you really a fan of ours?" Eric asked Myrna.
"Yeah, for years. Even before you made it really big. I use snippets of your guitar music in my classes to discuss male sensu…" She glanced at Brian, her eyes widening as if she'd been caught doing something wrong.
She never finished the thought, because Jace decided now was a good time to break his regular silence. "She even knows all of our names."
Looking relieved about the subject change, she pointed to each of them in turn. "Eric Sticks−drums. Three bass drums, fourteen cymbals. He does it with perfect rhythm."
"Every time," he said, tapping the table with his palms.
"Sedric Lionheart. Lead vocals. The sound of his voice makes the ladies cream their panties."
Sed leaned closer to her and said in his signature, baritone growl, "Yours included? I could sing a few bars, if you like."
"That's entirely unnecessary."
"Ah, you're killing me, Myr."
She grinned deviously. Brian wondered what he'd missed while he'd been worshiping the porcelain god. Just like Sed to move in for the kill immediately.
She continued, "Jace Seymour. Bassist." She paused, contemplating the newest member of their band.
"Hey, don't I get a byline?" Jace complained.
Myrna leaned across Sed and beckoned Jace closer. She whispered something in his ear and he flushed to the roots of his bleached hair. "Seriously?" he sputtered.
She stared into his eyes and nodded. "Seriously."
Now that was just wrong. What had she told him?
"Trey Mills. Rhythm guitarist. Dreamy green eyes to melt hearts. Nimble fingers to, well, get a lady's thoughts going in all sorts of inappropriate directions."
Trey winked and wriggled his fingers at her.
Her eyes moved to Brian. "Brian Sinclair." She paused. Brian's gaze focused on her pouty, pink lips. He wondered how many of her male students sat through her class with wood in their pants. Captivated, he waited for her words. A slow smile spread across her lovely face. "A musical genius."
No way! He didn't get something sexy said about him? He might melt under the heat of her gaze, however. She wanted him. He'd been around enough women to know that look. Why had he drunk so much? He was in no condition to pull off any level of seduction.
"I guess she does know who we are," Eric said.
"Did you think I was lying?" Myrna's gaze moved to Eric.
"You just don't look like a rocker. Like, at all."
"What does a rocker look like?"
"More makeup. Fewer clothes. Piercings. Tattoos."
"Who says I don't have any piercings?"
Sed traced the edge of her ear with his fingertip, drawing attention to a pair of small diamond studs in her earlobe. "Ear piercings don't count."
"I wasn't talking about my ears."
Sed's eyes searched her face. "Then where? I don't see any oth- Oh…"
Brian shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"So where is it?" Eric asked excitedly. "Navel? Nipple?"
"Clit?" Jace asked, his eyes downcast as he grinned crookedly.
That's what Brian expected, too. Her clit. Fuck me. He found it challenging enough to stay upright with his head swimming from the booze. He sure didn't need blood vacating his brain to engorge more attentive pieces of his anatomy. He clutched the table as the room tilted.
Myrna grinned, her hazel eyes moving to Brian's face. "I'll never tell," she said, but her eyes said I'll show you, Brian . She was toying with him. She had to be. He practically had "drunk loser" tattooed on his forehead at the moment.
Sed leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear. She shook her head.
"You're killing me, Myr."
"Do you have any tattoos?" Eric asked.
"Not as many as you do." Myrna's eyes widened. She pulled Eric's hand above the surface of the table and released it. "You do not have permission to touch me."
Brian bit his lip to hold back his laughter and lowered his gaze. Harsh! Surprisingly, none of the guys ripped on Eric for Myrna's blatant dismissal. This chick was as intimidating as hell. Brian couldn't remember the last time a woman had rattled his self-confidence. High school?
"I assume your body art isn't visible either." Sed tugged the collar of her suit to one side to reveal an unmarked collarbone. Her elbow in his ribs convinced him to cease his inspection.
"I am a college professor. I have to maintain a certain level of propriety."
"And you hang out with us in public?" Trey snorted and chuckled.
She glanced at her companions, considering each individually. "Good point." She laughed. Delightful. Warm. Brian bet there were other things about her that were delightful and warm. "I need to head up to bed. It's been a long day."
"Don't go yet," Eric protested.
Brian's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Hadn't she just publicly rejected him? And he wanted her to stay?
"Are you coming to our concert tomorrow night?" Trey asked.
Myrna's jaw dropped. "You're playing live? Oh my God. I'd absolutely love to go!"
"It's sold out," Sed said.
She scowled. "That sucks. Well, I mean, it's great for you, but it really sucks for me."
"We'll put you on the guest list. Come to the back door and give them the name Myrna Suxsed," Sed said. "They'll hook you up with a backstage pass."
Eric snorted with laughter.
"That would be fantastic," she said.
Brian found it hard to believe that she hadn't caught Sed's connotation. Or maybe she had.
She hugged Sed's arm and somehow managed to avoid his questing lips. "Okay, scoot, Eric. I'm going up to my room now."
"If I refuse to move, you can't go anywhere," Eric said smugly.
"Oh really?"
"Really."
"I'll just take a page from Brian's book."
Brian couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what she meant until she crawled up onto the table. She rolled off the table onto his and Trey's laps. She smelled fantastic–coconut, vanilla, and something uniquely Myrna. His mouth went dry, his palms damp. My God, he was a glutton for punishment. He'd already had his heart broken once this week.
Myrna leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I've got something for you up in my room if you'd like a little help with your condition."
His condition ? He'd love her to help him with his condition . She'd gotten him in this condition after all. His self-confidence restored, Brian smiled. His hand wrapped around her narrow waist.
"Room 615," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. "Don't wait too long to come up. I want to get to bed soon."
"Room 615."
"That's right." She climbed from his lap and straightened her skirt before glancing over her shoulder at Eric. He was banging his head repeatedly on the table.
"You'll stick around after the concert tomorrow, won't you?" Sed asked.
"Of course."
Trey saluted her with two fingers to his brow. "Good night, Professor."
"Good night, Trey, Jace, Sed, Eric." She nodded to each of them in turn. "I had fun talking to you. Thanks for indulging me."
She picked up her laptop case and left the lounge, the eyes of every man in the room following the gentle sway of her hips.
"And thank you for en-bulging me," Sed muttered.
"She wears garters under that suit," Eric groaned.
"I saw that," Sed murmured. "When she climbed up on the table." "I felt that… when I slid my hand up her skirt." Eric banged his head on the table again.
"You didn't make much progress, did you?" Sed said. "She's good at throwing off a guy's advances without making it obvious."
"Or in Eric's case, making it totally obvious." Jace laughed and ducked to avoid Eric's wild swing across the table.
"None of that here, Eric," Sed said. "You'll end up getting arrested again."
"Why didn't she say good night to you, Brian?" Trey, ever perceptive, asked.
"She wants me to come up to her room."
"You lucky bastard." Eric reached across the table to grab Brian by the shirt. Brian slapped his hands away.
He sat there for a moment, fighting the urge to put his head down on the table again. He massaged his face, but it was entirely numb. "I just wish I wasn't so drunk. Christ!"
"You're still going, aren't you?" Trey crunched his sucker between his teeth and tossed the empty stick into an ashtray. "Rebound pussy?"
Brian glanced at his best friend and fellow guitarist. "What do you think?"
"I think we should tie you up and hide you in the tour bus," Eric said. "She'll think you stood her up. Then I'll go console her and move in for the kill." He opened his mouth and tapped the tips of his index and middle finger on his tongue.
"Dream on, Sticks." Brian chugged half his glass of water and checked his breath by blowing into the palm of his hand. He winced. He pulled a sucker out of Trey's jacket pocket, unwrapped it, and stuck it in his mouth. Too sweet. Bleh. He started to toss it in the ashtray, but Trey rescued it.
"I was gonna eat that."
"Anyone have breath spray?" Brian asked. "My mouth tastes like road kill."
Sed dug various tubes of spray, a tin of breath mints, and some gum out of his pocket.
"Sed's make-out arsenal," Eric said.
Brian spritzed some peppermint spray in his mouth, hurled the tube at Sed, the jerk, and then hauled himself to his feet by grabbing the edge of the table. He stumbled sideways into the bench's back, but quickly regained his footing. Get it together, man. There is a seriously hot chick waiting upstairs to help you with your condition.
"Twenty bucks says he passes out before he can get his dick out of his pants," Sed said.
"I'll take that bet," Eric said. "There ain't a man alive who'd pass out before sliding into that Certified Grade A pussy."
"He'll get it out of his pants, but he'll pass out before he does anything with it," Jace said.
"He won't even find her room." Trey entered his bet and polished off his beer in three gulps. He stuck the cherry sucker he'd rescued from Brian in his mouth.
Brian shook his head. The company he kept. Sheezus!
He concentrated on walking a straight line to the elevator and, once inside, pushed the button to the sixth floor. He leaned against the wall as the car rose, his stomach settling in his boots. What was her room number again? Six something teen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Fourteen? He should have written it down. His eyes drifted closed as he thought about the feel of Myrna's breath against his ear. Her soft voice played through his head.
Six fifteen. He remembered now. He knew he wasn't at his best. Why had she picked him? What could she possibly find attractive about him at the moment? Not that he was complaining. He just didn't get it. And she'd been sitting next to Sed. The guy drew chicks like moths to a flame. Even unavailable chicks. Like Angie.
That sucking flut.
He needed another beer. Or three. Maybe he could raid Myrna's mini-bar. Or maybe she could use those pouty lips of hers to wipe the image of Angie sucking Sed's dick from his memory. Yeah, he liked that plan better. What had Trey called it? Rebound pussy. Exactly what he needed. He just had to keep his head together and not fall for this one.
Once off the elevator, he followed a sign to the correct corridor, stopped at the door labeled 615, and knocked.
"Just a second," Myrna called from inside. A small victory. Trey lost the bet.
Brian leaned his forearm against the doorframe to keep himself on his feet and rested his forehead against his arm. He really needed to sleep this off. He hoped she wasn't hard to satisfy. He wasn't even sure if he could maintain an erection in his condition.
She finally opened the door and smiled when he lifted his head to look at her. She'd removed her suit jacket, revealing a silky, white camisole and all sorts of creamy white flesh begging for his touch. God, she was fucking hot. Score!
"You really aren't feeling well, are you?" she asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
He didn't want to lie, so he said nothing.
She stepped aside. "Come in."
He pushed off the doorframe and entered her room. She closed the door behind him, and he knew he had to move quickly or Sed would win the bet. Or worse, Jace would win and he'd pass out with his pants around his knees. He turned Myrna to face him and pressed her up against the door with his body. She gasped in surprise just before his mouth claimed hers in a passionate kiss.
She wrenched her head to the side, breathing hard. "What are you doing?"
"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 partially 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 followed, 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 pulled 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 pulled her against him, his hands sliding down over the swell 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 still wanted her. Desperately. What was it about her that made his blood boil? She was so different from the girls he usually dated. So… proper? But no, not proper at all.
"How about I step into the hall 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'll be sober in the morning."
Her hands slid down his back to his ass. She pulled him closer, crushing his partially 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 hell 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 pills into his hand. "Ecstasy?" He tossed the pills in his mouth without looking at them. She handed him a sports drink and he swallowed the pills.
"Actually, 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'll 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. Fully erect now, it tried desperately to break free of the fly of his jeans. Was she really going to leave him in this condition? She'd said she would help him with it. And this wasn't helping. At all.
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 pulled 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. Well that, and the fear she'd tell 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 will settle your stomach and also help prevent a hangover."
He chewed the piece of banana and swallowed. "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, swallowed, 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'll need your stamina."
"So will 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 all 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 fell 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 rolled 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 allowed 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 still 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 all, 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 small talk in the lounge. The man really 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.