Insider

by Olivia Cunning

  been a virgin? She was at least twenty-five. Gorgeous women in their midtwenties with huge tits were not virgins. He was sure of it.

  He’d seen the signs, though. So easily believed her lies when she told him her skittishness was an act. Hell, those actions had turned him on and made his dick so hard he could have used it to mine for diamonds. He couldn’t deny it.

  “Fuck,” he growled under his breath.

  Now what was he supposed to do? Toni was supposed to tour with them for a month. He wouldn’t even be able to look her in the eye. Those big, innocent eyes. His cock stirred just thinking about the way she looked at him with those sweet, trusting eyes.

  “Absolutely not,” he said to his crotch. “None of that. That pussy is off limits.”

  At the thought of being buried in Toni’s oh-so-tight pussy, his cock twitched with renewed interest. He groaned. This was so not good. He was terrible at telling his cock to behave itself. Didn’t matter how much the little head got him into trouble, it ruled him and he knew it. He’d just have to find himself some nice substitute pussy to distract the little head from that sweet virgin he’d just defiled.

  Beer. He needed beer. He dried himself with a towel. All traces of her blood were now gone, but he could still smell the scent of her body on his skin. He considered taking a shower, but he liked that reminder of her. And he wasn’t going to delve into the reasons why. He should probably be angry with her for misleading him, but in actuality he felt like a total douche for taking advantage of her.

  Outwardly decent but inwardly cringing, he left the bathroom and headed to the refrigerator. He paused at the refrigerator door, his hand on the handle, and stared at the sliding doors that he’d closed as he fled the back lounge. He wondered if she was okay. Maybe he should check on her. Nah, she probably preferred some time to herself. Or maybe he was a freaking coward. Beer would help remedy that malady.

  “An hour,” Steve said. “You beat your own predicted time.”

  It took Logan a moment to realize he was talking about how Logan had bet that he’d get into Toni’s panties within three hours. If he’d known then what he knew now . . . Had to play it up for the guys, though. He had a reputation to uphold. A reputation that currently made him sick to his stomach.

  He twisted the cap off a bottle of beer and took a long swallow before locating his wry grin and plastering it to his face. “I told you nice girls were easy.”

  “You do realize we have to maintain a working relationship with her,” Max said. “Sleeping with her wasn’t your brightest idea.”

  That was an understatement. Logan perched sideways on the sofa arm, resting his feet on the cushion, and took another swig of beer and another and another until the bottle was inexplicably empty. His gaze landed on Toni’s gym bag, which was sitting on the floor near the sofa. He turned his head to see if she had emerged from the lounge, but the door was still shut. He wasn’t sure how to proceed. Should he talk to her? Avoid her? How was he supposed to avoid her for a month? Why did his little head make him do such idiotic things?

  A bare foot in the center of his chest shoved him backward. He managed to catch himself before he fell on the floor. “What the fuck?” he shouted at Steve, who was attached to the bare foot.

  “You don’t look like a guy who just got laid. You look like a guy who committed a hanging offense.”

  Logan scoffed. “Whatever. It just wasn’t that good.” Which was a total lie—he couldn’t remember a time that he’d enjoyed as much—but how else could he explain his sour mood?

  The gym bag near the sofa shifted. He cringed at the sound of dainty feet retreating to the back of the bus. The quiet latching of the bathroom door was like a stake through his heart.

  One eye squeezed shut, Logan asked, “Did she hear what I said? About it not being that good?”

  All three of his friends looked at the ceiling and nodded. Logan rubbed his forehead with one hand. He hadn’t thought it was possible to fuck up this situation any more than he already had. He had thought wrong. With a heavy sigh he climbed to his feet and tossed the empty beer bottle into the bin under the sink.

  “I’m going to bed.”

  “Don’t you think you should apologize to her?” Dare asked.

  Probably. He had no idea what to say.

  “Fuck it, I’m tired.”

  He stripped down to his boxers and climbed into his bunk. He jerked his curtain closed and stared up at the bottom of Steve’s empty bunk. He contemplated turning on the small television that was installed overhead, but then the guys would know he wasn’t in his bunk because he was tired, he was in his bunk avoiding Toni. She had to come out of the bathroom eventually.

  When he heard her soft voice a few minutes later, his heart rate accelerated.

  “Do you have any hydrogen peroxide?” she asked.

  “Are you injured?” Dare asked. The concern in his voice made Logan’s stomach clench. He better not fucking touch her.

  “No, I-I need it to get bloo—um . . . a stain out of something.”

  Logan’s ears strained for sound. Rummaging in the bathroom. A relieved sigh from Toni.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  The lounge doors slid shut. Had Dare followed her in there? Logan knew how Dare comforted women. It started out all tender and caring and ended up with the women on their backs and him pounding them. The fucker.

  Dare jerked open the curtain of Logan’s bunk. He punched him hard in the shoulder, shook his head in disgust, and then yanked the curtain closed again. Logan rubbed his aching deltoid. Yeah, he had totally deserved that. He was sure Dare had put two and two together. Max and Steve were probably oblivious, but Dare was too fucking perceptive for his own good.

  “What’s going on?” Steve asked.

  Logan tensed. All he needed was for his entire band to know he’d defiled a virgin and was now hiding from her in his bunk.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Dare said.

  Logan was one hundred percent certain that Dare was being tight-lipped for Toni’s sake, not his. Logan rolled onto his side and stared at the wall. Things were going to become mighty uncomfortable on this bus if he didn’t set them right. He had no fucking clue how to do that.

  May 2

  Dear Journal,

  Today didn’t go exactly as planned. Apparently the band wasn’t expecting me and for a while there, I wasn’t sure I was going to get to start the book, much less finish it. But after they straightened it out with their manager and Max admitted that he had known I was coming, I was allowed on the bus and even got some really good material when they ran to interact with their fans behind the stadium.

  I can’t express how excited I am to be involved with their book. They are all so cool.

  Okay, first impressions of the guys.

  Maximillian Richardson or Max. He’s surprisingly calm. I don’t know what I was expecting. I guess watching all that high-energy concert footage gave me a mistaken perception of him. But of the four guys, he definitely seems to be the most . . . What’s a good way to describe him? Professional? I guess that’s the right word. He’s also incredibly gorgeous—especially his ass. Lordie! But he doesn’t look like a rocker the way the rest of them do. I could easily imagine him as a high-profile CEO in a tailored Armani suit. I wonder why he chose to become the singer of a metal band. I need to make sure I ask him that for the book.

  Darren Mills or Dare. This guy has presence. You can’t help but notice him. It’s as if a strange gravitational force surrounds him and sucks all attention right to him. The weird thing is, he doesn’t seem to do anything consciously. He’s not trying to be the center of attention, he just is. He’s another one who is knockout gorgeous—honestly, they are all. But he 100 percent looks the rock star part. As if he was born to play the guitar and have millions of fans. Maybe it’s the hair. It’s jet black and barely touches his shoulders, but I don’t think there are many men who could pull off that length. I’m totally jealous of how silky smooth it i
s, like rich black satin. I need to ask him what conditioner he uses. Maybe it would calm my rat’s nest. And he has the most gorgeous green eyes.

  Steve Aimes seems like a lot of fun. A bit of a jokester. Energetic. From what I can tell, he really likes women. Really likes women. He’s really good looking too. Especially his abs. Oh my God, he has an eight-pack. I thought my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets from staring at them so long. Haha!

  Logan Schmidt. I’m not sure I get him at all. Even if he did take my virginity. I still can’t believe it happened, but I’ll get to that story later. I still haven’t fully processed it yet. Logan doesn’t seem to take anything seriously. He’s this happy-go-lucky kind of guy with a great smile, and he has these amazing blue eyes that seem to stare right into your soul and thick wavy hair that is probably really curly if he doesn’t tame it. He also seems to use good hair products.

  Note to self: Go to the salon.

  Logan reminds me of a surfer dude. He’s very tanned—except for where shorts would be—and he’s pretty pale down there (yes, I checked when I had the chance!)—but it’s not an artificial tan. He looks like he spends a lot of time outdoors. I wonder if he likes to play sports. Everyone knows I suck at sports.

  Speaking of things I suck at, we can add sex to that list. Logan said it himself. I heard him telling the guys that it wasn’t very good. And what he said hurt, but what hurt worse was I know he’s right. I’m not good at it. I assume other people know what to do and how to behave their first time, but I was so nervous and awkward. I’m surprised he was even turned on enough to finish. I’m so glad he did, though. At least I can say I made him come. Or maybe he made himself come. I didn’t do much but lie there and moan.

  I would like to try sex again. Maybe next time I won’t be so weird, and surely it can’t hurt as bad the second time as it does the first. I thought my hymen was going to kill me. Literally. And I got blood everywhere. It was so embarrassing to ask for peroxide to clean the blood off the sofa, but the stain is gone. I turned the cushion over to hide the wet spot.

  I think Dare might have figured out that I was a virgin.

  And all the guys know I had sex with Logan after knowing him only an hour, so I can imagine what they think of me.

  For the first time in my life I’m labeled a slut.

  Why am I okay with that?

  I guess what’s done is done. I wouldn’t take any of it back.

  Except the part where I wasn’t any good at it. Maybe I should take lessons. Haha!

  I think I ruined any chance I had with Logan. I really do like him. So maybe we can be friends.

  Did I really just write that?

  To be honest, I don’t want to be just friends. I’d much rather be his lover.

  Every guy I’ve ever liked has only wanted to be friends and nothing more. Why can’t I have more? Is that too much to ask?

  How do I get him to like me? Maybe I should go against my promises to Dad and dress less appropriately.

  I dunno.

  None of this nonsense I’m writing here will make it into the book, of course. Can you imagine? If my mother read it, she’d have a coronary. She’s probably having a coronary right now because I didn’t call to let her know I made it to the bus. I’m too emotional to deal with Mom tonight. Maybe I’ll call her tomorrow.

  I did check my phone for messages and found Susan had already texted me. She asked if I was ready to come home. I didn’t bother responding. I guess I understand why she doesn’t like me—she really wanted this job—but her reasons don’t make her stinging words any easier to take. Julian also texted—fifteen messages—starting with are you still a virgin followed by how about now over and over again. So I texted back no. To which he replied I don’t believe you. What a jackass!

  Oh, I almost forgot. I saw Reagan Elliot, but didn’t actually get to meet her. She seemed more interested in hanging out on Sinners’ tour bus. I thought it was a little strange that she took one of the security guards with her. And based on something Dare said, it sounded as if she was intimate with him. And with Trey Mills. I guess she’s cheating on Trey. I can’t imagine why she would do that. Have you seen Trey Mills? If he were mine, I sure wouldn’t cheat on him. But maybe I’m wrong. I’ll be sure to listen for clues if I get to spend any time around her tomorrow.

  Now that I’m back here by myself and not distracted by all those virile males, I do miss Birdie. If I were home, I’d be reading her a book right about now. I hope Mom is taking good care of her. I’m sure she’s fine.

  I’d better try to sleep now since tomorrow will be a busy day. I can’t wait to get more stuff for the book! That’s what I need to concentrate on. Not my attraction to Logan. Or being terrible at sex. Or anything else. I’m here to do a job and I plan to do it well.

  Goodnight, Journal. I’m glad you’re here to listen to my silly problems.

  Signed,

  No-longer-a-virgin,

  Toni

  Five

  Toni’s eyes shot open. Something had touched her hair. She could make out unfamiliar shadows in her dimly lit surroundings, but this was not her bedroom. Where was she?

  A figure lurked over her, sitting in the space above the top of her head. Toni’s entire body tensed. Too terrified to move, she held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “I’m sorry,” Logan’s deep voice said from nearby. His hand caressed her cheek.

  Trembling, Toni let out a breath of relief. It was only Logan, and she now realized she was sleeping on the sectional in the back lounge of Exodus End’s tour bus. All that had happened sounded like something she would dream about, not actually experience. No wonder she woke up confused.

  Logan scooted along the sofa, took her pillow away, and shifted his thigh beneath her head. His fingers stroked her hair as her head rested on his lap. She couldn’t help but relax and be overjoyed that he was with her. Talking to her. Apologizing to her. She couldn’t be mad at him. She’d tricked him into taking her virginity, and she was sure the sex hadn’t been very good for him. She had no idea how to please a man. She was miffed that his entire band knew she sucked in bed, but other than that, she was just glad he was speaking to her. Touching her. Maybe he’d teach her how to rock his world and she could redeem herself.

  “I’m sorry too,” she said.

  His hand paused. “For what?”

  “Misleading you. I know you wouldn’t have slept with me if you’d known I was a virgin.”

  He chuckled. “You underestimate your appeal. I told you, you’re exactly my type.”

  “Then I’m sorry I wasn’t any good.”

  “And I’m sorry I’m a fucking liar. It was fantastic, Toni. You, you are fantastic.”

  Did he really mean that?

  “So are you going to be okay?” he asked. “I feel like a complete asshole. I would have done things differently if I’d known it was your first time.”

  The hand stroking her hair was so soothing, so tender, she could almost imagine being his. She wanted that far more than she should. “Yeah, I’m fine. Really. I’m not just saying that. I wanted you to take my virginity.”

  His fingertips brushed her neck, and shivers chased goose bumps to the surface of her skin.

  “Shouldn’t that be something you save for someone you love?” he asked.

  She chuckled. “Maybe a few women still think that way. I’m not one of them.”

  “How old are you?” He stroked a spot behind her ear, and her nipples tightened into hard buds. The flesh between her thighs, which had been tender and sore when she’d fallen asleep, was now hot and achy and embarrassingly damp.

  “Are you going to ask my weight next?” she asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Two things you should never ask a woman: her age and her weight.”

  “Well, however old you are—”

  “Twenty-five,” she supplied.

  “A twenty-five year old woman with this face . . .” He placed a hand over her mouth
and squeezed her cheeks in the most unromantic fashion imaginable. “And these fantastic tits . . .” He reached for a breast but paused an inch from taking it in his hand. Her belly clenched, wanting him to close the narrow gap between their flesh, wanting his fingers against her breast, her throbbing nipple. “Has no business being a virgin unless she’s purposely saving herself for marriage or something.”

  He dropped his hand to the sofa near her arm, and she stifled a moan of frustration. Why wasn’t he touching her more? She wanted him to touch every inch of her. “It just never happened,” she said. But lord how she wanted it to happen again. She wasn’t sure how to convey that to him. Should she just blurt it out? If she did, surely he’d think she was a raving whorebag. “It’s not that big a deal, Logan. I’m sorry you found the experience so traumatic.”

  “Me?” He snorted. “You’re the one who should be traumatized. I fuck you—hurt you—then freak out and leave you bleeding on the