by Cari Quinn
“And now you see.” His dimpled smile took her breath away. Especially as he dipped his head and murmured, “I want you on my lap, right here, right now. Damn them all.”
She lowered her lashes and let her hand drop from his face. “So you can comfort me?”
“Is that what we’re calling fucking now?” His green eyes twinkled. “Then yes. I’d like to comfort you all night long.”
“I like how you think, Pruitt.” She laughed, bowing her head as he rubbed her thigh. Tingles erupted along her skin everywhere he touched.
She definitely wasn’t feeling much pain now.
“Speaking of that, think you can come over tonight?” He traced his fingers along the rip in her jeans. “Let us take care of you,” he said, voice soft.
“Two-on-one comforting?”
“If you’re up for that. Otherwise, just movies and sleep.” He slipped his finger between her flesh and denim and her heart skipped. “I’ve gotten used to having you beside me in bed.”
“And Tristan,” she reminded him.
Considering how quickly he nodded, he clearly hadn’t forgotten for a minute.
No matter what pockets of time she had alone with Tristan, or alone with Sparks, they were always cognizant that they were three. Always three.
Now they were going to spend time together that wasn’t about sex. Movies and sleep. Why did that scare her so much more than if Sparks had suggested double penetration?
Because sex was easy. Caring was hard.
And frightening as hell.
“I’ll try,” she replied, just as softly. “Depends on what happens with rehearsal. Mal lost his shit, but we still have a show tomorrow night so we may be at it late tonight.”
He nodded. “Whenever you’re done, just come over. It doesn’t matter what time.”
“Okay.” It wasn’t a big deal. They were friends. “I’ll try to make it.”
“Tris wants to come to your show. I got comped some tickets so I gave him one.”
“Yeah, but you don’t get front row. I’ll hook him up.” She winked and rubbed her thumb over his lower lip.
The sharp click of heels had her jerking back, but not fast enough. Lila was striding toward their couch and speaking into a walkie talkie.
“I don’t care if she’s gone now. This club was supposed to be closed, and I saw someone lurking in the back row. No one is allowed in here during rehearsals but the band and essential personnel, along with club staff. If someone sneaked in, I want to make sure they’re now off the premises—and without contraband. They could release bootlegs or God knows what.” Static and a harried male voice came through the speaker, but Lila cut him off. “I want it taken care of. Now. No excuses.”
“She’s scary,” Sparks whispered against Juliet’s ear.
“There’s a reason they call her Dragon Lady,” Juliet whispered back. “She’s actually my sister’s best friend.”
“Your sister doesn’t seem scary.”
“Shows how little you know,” she said, trying not to laugh when he poked her in the side.
Lila ended her conversation and tilted her head as she noticed Juliet and Sparks tucked close together on the sofa. “Hello,” she said coolly to Sparks. “You’re Randy, Harper’s brother.”
“I am, yes.” Like the gentleman he was, Sparks rose and held out a hand. “We met when I was hired on as lighting director, but I’m not sure we ever got much of a chance to talk.”
Lila shook his hand politely. “I remember. You do a fine job. Your sister speaks highly of you.”
“Well, she would. Baby brother and all. Plus, I babysit my niece whenever she needs me to, at least when I’m in town.”
“Handy that we’ll be back before Thanksgiving then, after the San Francisco show.”
He nodded as if he knew exactly what Lila was talking about. Weird, since Juliet had no clue and she was in the band.
What the hell?
When Juliet would’ve spoken, Lila shifted her way.
“Juliet, there’s a band meeting in five. We’ll use the banquet room at the end of the hall.” She paused, offering a smile to Sparks. “Do you mind if I steal her?”
“No, of course not. We were just talking.”
Lila’s smile never wavered. “Of course. I heard she took a spill onstage. Thank you for taking care of her.”
Juliet’s face flamed and she ducked her head. “Jesus, Li, it wasn’t that bad.”
“Walk with me?” Lila asked Juliet, still smiling.
Uh oh. Lila’s smiles were more dangerous than her anger. She and her boss, the head of Ripper Records, Donovan Lewis, were alike that way. They were both perfectly dressed, perfectly coiffed sharks with Red Bull in their veins.
“I’ll just get back to work then.” Sparks slid his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, his gaze lingering on Juliet for an extra beat. She knew he wanted to say something, maybe even to kiss her goodbye, but that wasn’t happening in front of Lila. “Bye, ladies.”
“So polite,” Lila said once he’d walked through the curtain and back onstage. She started to walk down the hall, leaving Juliet to follow like a recalcitrant child. “He’s not who I would have figured you would’ve chosen.”
“Oh, I didn’t—” She fell silent at Lila’s glance.
“He’s Harper’s brother.”
“A fact you just pointed out a moment ago.” And yes, her voice sounded irritable, and no, she didn’t care. “I also know that the rest of Oblivion and Warning Sign and hell, even you yourself have played musical beds, so don’t give me that tone as if I’m a child who doesn’t know what she’s doing. It doesn’t work when Margo does it, and it definitely doesn’t work when you do it as my sister’s stand-in.”
Lila’s expression never faltered. “How about when I do it as the person who signs your checks? Do I have any more sway there?”
Juliet hated, absolutely abhorred the chill that raced up her spine. Lila didn’t have a heel to stand on, and they both knew it. Juliet hadn’t caused any problems within the band. She was always on time, always flawless.
“I didn’t realize having sex meant I couldn’t be in the band too. If that’s the case, maybe you should tell the boys that. Like, oh, Michael, who ran off and got married on a drunken bender without your okay. Seems like plenty of people do things without your say so, and they get by just fine.”
She knew she was digging her hole that much deeper, but she couldn’t seem to stop her mouth. She’d understood from the get-go that Lila would watch her like a hawk because of Margo—because her oh so helpful sister would have told Lila to, since Juliet was just a flighty mess—and that any relationship she undertook would face scrutiny. That hadn’t concerned her, since she didn’t have relationships. She hadn’t in forever, not since—
Not going there. Not now.
Lila picked up her pace. “You good now? Or do you have more complaints to register?”
“Actually, yes, I do. What San Francisco show? I didn’t even know we were scheduled next week. Besides, I thought you felt we needed to stay local for a while.”
“Until you managed to get through a rehearsal without someone pitching a hissy fit? Yes, well, sometimes things don’t work out the way you’d hoped. An opportunity arose, and I decided Warning Sign needed to take it.” Lila ignored the walkie talkie that squawked at her hip. “Randy is a good kid. Don’t hurt him. I’ll see you inside.” She indicated the banquet room and then kept going down the hall, already speaking into the walkie talkie in sharp tones.
“Make it happen” seemed to be Lila’s favorite phrase.
Don’t hurt him.
Juliet shut her eyes. Cripes, what did Lila see her as? Some kind of player? She didn’t hurt men. They knew the score, just as she did.
She and Sparks and Tris were all on the same page there. So what if the timeline had changed a bit? It didn’t make sense to end things prematurely while everyone was still getting off.
And while you’re starting
to fall for them. Both of them, because you’re a greedy two-fister.
Juliet sighed and turned the handle on the door, surprised to see her entire band seated around the table, including Malachi. He looked bored as hell and on the verge of falling asleep, but at least his ass was in the chair.
“You shouldn’t look so glum for someone who got carried offstage by her boyfriend.”
West’s singsongy voice made her laugh and kick his chair on her way to take a seat on his other side.
A moment later, Lila shut the door behind her and smiled.
“Hello, Warning Sign. I’d intended this meeting to be one of a cheerleading sort, since no other tactics have worked thus far. Alas, I have issues with a possible female groupie who somehow has managed to elude our security.”
“What female groupie?” Mal sat up straight. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Juliet shot West a sidelong glance. He shrugged and noted something on the pad he’d probably cribbed from the always prepared Ryan.
Big man has lots of groupie action on the D???
Juliet snorted out a laugh, which she abruptly cut off as Lila walked around the table and picked up West’s pad.
And read what he’d written aloud.
“It’s kind of you to be concerned about your bandmate’s penis, Weston, but you might want to focus on something more applicable to this meeting. Such as your music.” Lila flopped the pad back on the table, and Juliet didn’t think it was an accident the spine clipped West’s fingers.
He stuck them in his mouth and smirked.
“There was a possible situation,” Lila said smoothly, addressing Malachi. “We’re handling it. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Oh, is that so? And you know what I need to worry about, right? Because you think I’m like these clowns and easily managed. Guess what, Dragon—”
“You shouldn’t speak to her that way,” Elle interrupted, staring back as Malachi shifted his dark eyes toward her. “She’s your stepmother. Have some goddamn respect.”
“She’s not my stepmother anymore. She divorced my father and married your brother, remember?”
“Oh, I remember just fine,” Elle said. “You have a problem with Nick just like you had a problem with respecting Lila as your parent—”
“Lila is not my fucking parent. She’s barely older than me and Michael. My father chose to troll the playgrounds for new wives. Not my fault.” Mal slouched back in his chair. “Besides, I give respect when it’s earned, little Ricki.”
“Me too. And that’s while you’ll never get mine, because you’re a fucking conceited prick who’s not half as good as he thinks he is.”
Whoa. Juliet cupped her hand over her mouth and wished she had popcorn.
But Mal only smiled, slow and sinister. “Awful lot of talk about my dick just now. You both want to hop on and have a ride?” he asked, glancing from Elle to West and back again.
West flipped him the bird. Elle turned to face the wall.
Molly sighed heavily, never content to be on the sidelines for long. “Seriously? I thought this was a meeting, not a playground taunt session.”
“Our meetings are playground taunt sessions,” Michael said easily.
“Enough,” Lila snapped. “I think you’re going to shut up and hear me out for the rest of this meeting. All of you. Let’s try to stay on task for once, all right? “
“Yeah, we’ll do that when you stop telling us about problems. Freaking fan creeping in and—”
“Malachi, it’ll be handled. We have other concerns right now than an unknown female fan.”
Instead of glancing at West this time, Juliet kicked the side of his foot. He shrugged again.
None of them knew much of anything about Mal. She wasn’t sure even Michael had a line on Mal’s recent past, and he was related to him. The elder Shawcross mostly kept to himself.
And apparently possible groupies really freaked him out.
“I’m not going to address today’s latest onstage meltdown,” Lila continued. “We’re moving past it. You know why? You’re playing at The Fillmore next Friday night.”
“The Fillmore?” Molly bolted upright from her practiced slouch. “You’re kidding. How did that happen?”
“In short, sex addiction.”
“Hell yeah,” West said under his breath. “Now we’re talking.”
Ignoring him, Lila continued. “It’s not a secret, and it’s not a joke. Luc Moreau of The Grunge is entering treatment this weekend, and he won’t be able to front his band for the next six weeks. Due to other issues within the band, they’ve made the choice not to find a replacement lead singer. That means a lot of shuffling to fill venues, and a lot of opportunities to step up to the plate.” She waited a beat. “Like a possible headlining concert with Oblivion in December.”
“No way,” Molly whispered. “Really? I’d get to headline with my sister?”
“Oh whoop-ti-fucking-do. We headline with her fuckin’ husband. Watch me cream my jeans.”
Juliet had to give Lila credit. She didn’t even acknowledge Mal. Neither did anyone else.
“First, we have to get through next Friday night. To maximize our time up north, there will also be another show at a smaller venue in San Jose on Tuesday night. The bus leaves Sunday and will return the following Saturday, along with an accompanying bus for the crew.”
As soon as Lila said that, Juliet’s attention blinked out.
Crew bus meant Sparks.
Sparks meant hell yes.
But no Tristan, dammit.
“On show nights, Ripper Records will put you up in a hotel, the rest of the time, you’re on the bus. Any questions?”
Hotel sex with Sparks had definite possibilities. Maybe Tris could drive up and join them for The Fillmore show. It was a Friday, though, one of his busiest nights at the restaurant.
Could she even have sex with Sparks without Tris there? Did she even want to?
Guess she’d be finding out soon enough.
“I have one.” Molly grinned. “Is it too soon for me to start packing?”
Chapter Seventeen
There were worse ways to wake up than sprawled beneath Juliet in her bunk on Warning Sign’s bus. Especially when all she wore was a tiny pair of panties and a half shirt that covered her breasts.
Barely.
Randy nuzzled the back of her neck and filled his hand with her soft flesh. “Morning, beautiful.”
“Hmm, normally I hate the word morning, but it sounds better when you say it.” Yawning, she rolled over on her back. “Hi.” She smiled up at him as she brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Maybe I’ll need treatment for sex addiction soon too, like that guy in The Grunge. Can you imagine?”
The way things were going, he almost could.
Juliet’s sleepy voice wound around him, way warmer than the thin blanket he’d pulled over them before they dropped into sleep late last night. He chuckled and tweaked her nipple. “We haven’t had sex, remember?” At her raised brows, he ducked his head. “I mean lately. You know.”
They’d fooled around, definitely. He’d gotten her off a couple times, including one memorable time with his mouth at the hotel after Tuesday’s show. She’d reciprocated at the same time, and he’d gone to sleep smiling that night. She’d also given him the best hand job of his life in the bus bathroom yesterday while her bandmates fought about missing sheets on the other side of the door.
But sex hadn’t been on the table. They hadn’t discussed it, not exactly. The close quarters and lack of privacy had something to do with it too, of course. He’d also been working and they’d had to steal moments together.
Lots of moments.
This was far from a vacation for both of them. She had rehearsals and the shows themselves, and he had to make sure the venue—both venues—were not only up to code, but beyond that, set up to his own specs.
Warning Sign’s light shows were getting more ambitious. Some of the other bands he’d w
orked with weren’t into pyrotechnics, but he could see Warning Sign heading that way. That kind of visual display fit their bombastic show style. So that meant he wasn’t just thinking about what their current needs were, but what they’d want in the near future and how to make it happen—efficiently and under budget.
So it made sense they hadn’t been going for it at every opportunity. Except even when they’d had a big hotel room to themselves, they’d just messed around.
A lot.
Still, sex without Tristan didn’t seem right. On any level.
Orgasms, well, those were necessary. He couldn’t be anywhere near Juliet and not crave her like oxygen. From how she’d been reacting to him, she was much the same.
A helluva miracle.
“Absence makes the pussy grow needier, trust me.” She patted Sparks’s bare chest and pursed her lips. “I guess I should warn you how horny I get after big shows. It’s kind of a problem.”
Not laughing was impossible, though he tried to stifle it in his fist since technically he wasn’t supposed to be bunking with Juliet. He had his own bed on the other bus, and if he was needed, that’s where the road manager would come looking for him. Still, he had his phone on him at all times, so he wasn’t that worried he might miss something.
Okay, he was a little worried. He’d never blown off his responsibilities even this much before. Normally, he was the guy who followed the letter of the law.
Then again, he’d never had Juliet Reece in his bed before.
Sin incarnate.
Screw rules. Screw obligations. He might just abandon propriety altogether if he could just keep screwing her. Him and Tristan, because even in his fantasies, he was never alone with her. Tristan was always there.
Randy stroked her cheek. “Did you forget I’ve been with you after two shows now? The first one, you came back to our apartment and you were so wild we did it in the front hall.”
After the second one, he and Juliet had gone at each other like animals in her hotel room, but they’d stopped before the main event. As he knew they always would until Tris was with them, no matter how horny she claimed to get.
