The drive from Gloversville, New York to Montréal, Québec is about four hours. I sleep through most of it, missing my dad with a fierce ache that gentles and soothes the longer I lay entwined with these two men. At one point, I snap to in a panic, thinking I've left my passport on the bus, but Muse assures me that all of our passports are currently tucked in the duffel bag riding between Copeland and Ransom in the center row.
After that, everything's a blur, scenery rushing by outside the window, the gentle murmur of Michael's voice as he drives and talks with Ran and Cope. I drift in and out of actual sleep, coming to only when we're pulling into a parking lot, rain driving against the roof of the van.
“We're in Canada already?” I ask, blinking as I struggle to sit up without elbowing Muse in the stomach or kicking Pax in the face. “I missed it? My first moment outside the United States.”
“Sorry, sweet thing,” Ransom says, hooking an arm on the back of his seat and glancing over at me. His smile is too soft, even buried in all that stubble, to say he's really apologetic about it. “But you were so cute passed out back there.”
I stretch and yawn as Muse adjusts himself to sit next to me, also yawning and stretching.
Paxton just mumbles some curse words and flops his body against the window.
“Please tell me we don't have a show tonight,” he murmurs as Michael parks next to Beauty in Lies' tour bus and shuts off the engine.
“Nope. Tomorrow,” Cope says as Ransom grabs the sliding door and pulls it open, letting in a rush of cold air that makes me shiver.
Pax continues to curse as he climbs out with me following after him, Muse right behind us.
Since it's raining so hard, we don't hang out in the parking for long, heading onto the bus and shaking water droplets off our skin, a few of the boys shedding their shirts.
“I'm gonna go check in with Octavia,” Muse says, grabbing an umbrella from one of the bottom cabinets in the kitchen and heading back outside.
Me, I plod into the Bat Cave, yank my stretchy black dress off and throw it on the floor, climbing into the silken sheets in my bra and panties. It's only about six o'clock, but after seeing my childhood home transformed into an empty skeleton, learning about Muse's past, spreading my parents' ashes, and unloading all of my keepsakes into a storage unit, I'm so tired I'll probably sleep straight through to tomorrow.
“Fuck, baby girl,” Ransom says, climbing in next to me in boxers and a hoodie. Automatically, he curls his body around mine like we were made to fit together like this. “I know nothing actually happened to me today, but damn it if I'm not falling asleep standing up.”
I wrap my arms around his and burrow close, enjoying this little private moment together.
“Seeing me go through that stirred up your own emotions. It's completely reasonable,” I whisper, feeling like I should keep my voice low to match his.
“Mm,” he murmurs against my hair, sending warm shivers of pleasure down my spine. Ransom just makes these fucking noises sometimes that drive me up the wall—in a good way. I wiggle closer to him and feel the thickness of his cock inside his boxers.
“I like having you to myself for a second,” I say, smiling slyly at Pax when he pauses in the doorway to the Bat Cave, completely nude. “Now that Paxton is trying to steal you away, I'm jealous.”
“Oh, please,” he drawls, waving a hand holding a cigarette, perfuming the air with the scent of tobacco. Obviously I'm not a fan of cigarettes, but seeing him stand there covered in tattoos, speaking in an English accent, and smoking one all at the same time … that turns me on. “You can bloody have him.”
“So you say until the two of you are jacking each other off in the backseat of a van.”
Ransom chuckles and Pax smirks, ashing his cigarette into the trash can at the end of the bed, the one that was once upon a time filled with four condoms from four different dudes. I blush a little as Paxton abandons his smoke in the metal rubbish bin as he calls it, and joins us on the bed.
“You liked that, did you?” Pax asks, leaning back against the pillows and lacing his fingers behind his neck. He's so completely unashamed of his erection, proud of it more like. But those tears … he definitely had no idea how to deal with those.
“Maybe,” I say, although the answer is actually definitely.
I close my eyes for a moment, feeling this brief respite from my grief. I did what I had to do, went home, said goodbye. And yet, my journey didn't end there. It's a good feeling, knowing I still have something left to do, somewhere to go … someone to hold.
“Octavia's going to have a roadie return the van for us,” I hear Muse saying from the living room, already back from his errand. I count slowly under my breath, seeing how long it takes the other guys to join us. Once a few of us get in here, it's like there's this magnetic pull on everyone else.
Or maybe they can just sense that my fatigue drifted away as soon as I felt Ransom's cock pressing up against my ass …
“All taken care of,” Muse says, slipping into the room and raising his pierced brow at Pax's blatant nudity. “Honestly, what she did to Lilith was fucked beyond fucked, but Octavia is damn good at what she does. All we have to do is show up at the concert tomorrow and then plop our asses in another van for a ride to the airport. Done, done, done.”
He shrugs out of his clothes, all the way down to his skivvies, and joins us.
“Yeah, well, I've got my eye on her,” Paxton says, determined not to let it go. It's actually kind of cute in a way, how protective he is of me. But he says Michael knows how to hold a grudge? I think Pax is the king of it. “Maybe I should bring her to meet my parents, too? If they like her, she's done. Sacked. Out the door. Those selfish cads have awful taste in friends, business partners, lovers.”
“Sons,” Michael adds when he enters the room, damp from a quickie shower. “They clearly fucked you up royally, so I don't see why you'd expect much else from them.”
He climbs onto the bad and stretches out on his tummy, flashing his new tattoo to the room and putting his violet gaze on level with mine.
I reach a hand out and tease the razored strands of his black hair. Ransom has dark hair, too, but his is distinctly chocolate flavored. Michael's is as dark as a starless sky.
“Sorry,” Cope says, slipping into the room a few moments later. “I had a ton of fucking voicemails from both my mom and her doctor.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask and he sighs, kicking off his shoes in the door and adding to our collective clothing mess. I wonder what it's going to be like staying in hotels with these guys? Do we each get our own rooms? Would I even want my own room? No, I don't think so. Getting my own place together in Seattle, some kind of permanent base of operations sounds like a good idea. But on the road, I just want all my men to myself.
“Everything's fine. I usually get at least two calls a day from my mother. Maybe one a week from her doctor. It's just the same old, same old.” Cope smiles at me, like he's already over it. But not like Muse, not like he's pushed his feelings down in order to deal with them. I think he really is just used to taking care of his mom; he's done it his whole life.
Once Copeland gets under the covers, I feel it.
Feminine satisfaction, female triumph.
Mine.
Fuck.
It really does feel good to say that.
All of these guys, they belong to me.
Without saying a word, I reach under the covers and push my panties down, encouraging Ransom by wiggling against him. At the same time, I reach out and cup the side of Michael's face, drawing him in for a kiss.
And just like that, I shift the mood the way I want it.
I want sex.
It's an emotional sounding board for me now, and not just because I'm trying to fuck the bad feelings away or anything like that. It's an easy form of connection, this silken glide of bodies on bodies, hands, mouths, cocks, cunt. Just one of those. And anyway, the act with these guys is so much more than just s
ex. When we're all in one room like this, there's this transcendent feeling of togetherness, family, romance.
I've never felt anything like it.
Ransom slides into me from behind me, spooning me while Michael fucks my mouth with wickedly decadent flicks of his tongue. He reaches around my back while we kiss, unhooking my bra, making the act of pulling the straps down my arms erotic with his confident surety, his slowness.
When he wraps his jewel toned hands around my breasts and squeezes them, I cry out, arching into his touch. My pelvis tilts back naturally, welcoming Ransom inside, his cock hitting my G-spot in exactly the right place.
I let him move inside of me until his breathing gets too harsh, too ragged, and then I pull away, sitting up and shimmying out of my panties.
Climbing up on Michael's lap, I take him next, letting the heavy weight of his violet gaze wash over me, reveling in the thick heaviness of his cock. He licks his full lower lip and then relaxes slowly, a wild male giving into my demands. He's not necessarily relinquishing control … just sharing it.
I sigh with pleasure when Muse moves up behind us, kissing the side of my neck and then cupping my ass, kneading my tender flesh with strong fingers. He teases one of those against my ass, slicking lube from his hand against me, warming me up to take his cock. When he enters me from behind, the feeling is almost … transcendent.
The two men share my body seamlessly, the three of us moving as easily as if we were just two.
“You look like a goddess,” Cope whispers in my ear, just before he straddles Michael's head and I lean forward to take his cock into my mouth, his long musician's fingers pressing gently into the back of my head.
Yes, group sex takes a ton of maneuvering, but once all those pieces are in play, it's so worth it.
It's like planning ahead on a chessboard, staying patient, waiting for that one final moment when you checkmate the king … or in this case, kings.
Me, I'm the queen; I can move as many spaces as I want.
The guys can't be shy though either. I mean, right now, straight-as-fuck Michael (probably the guy in the group with the lowest chance of ever touching or looking at another man) has Copeland's body pretty intimately acquainted with the area just a few inches above his face.
The way his hands knead my hips though, I figure he's too far gone with pleasure to care. I can feel my body wrapping him tight, liquid and wet, my sex tightening on Michael's cock like a vise.
Ran and Pax move over to me, kneeling on my right and left like knights. One is dark-haired, dark-eyed. The other blonde with a pale grey-blue gaze. Together they make a beautiful contrast.
I slide my mouth off of Cope's shaft and lean into Ransom, sucking and licking and caressing his cock instead, letting him borrow my sharp tongue, my hungry lips. And then I do the same for Paxton. I switch between the three men, loving the amount of control I have over them right now. The looks on their faces … they'd do anything for me.
Well, I think they'd do anything for me anyway.
I know I'd do the same for them.
I stop short of letting any of them come, pulling away from Muse and Michael like I did to Ransom. The groans of frustration they make are basic, primal, curving my lips up with amusement.
The air in the room feels languid, hot, charged.
Compared to last week, something is definitely different in here. I can't figure out if it's me or one of them, or some sort of combination.
Cope's the first to take my hips, pull them up and mount me from behind as I stretch on all fours like a cat, biting my lip, closing my eyes against the curved length of his shaft. He really does know how to use his body to bring a woman pleasure. It's obvious in every move he makes that he's thinking about more than just himself. Even naked, he still smells like denim and soap, fresh and clean and inviting.
Between movements, the boys touch themselves, hands wrapped around their shafts, showing me how they like to be pleasured, giving me tips without even knowing that they're doing it. I watch them as Cope rides me, leaning into the thrust of his pelvis, listening to the sweet sound of our bodies joining.
Paxton, aggressive as ever, gets on his knees in front of me, fisting some of my hair in his hand and sliding his dick between my lips. He pumps his hips in time with Cope's, trapping me between their bodies, electrifying me, making the nerve endings in every part of my body tingle like they've been galvanized. Lightning and thunder, that's what the two of them feel like, sound like, right now.
I'm pretty sure Pax plans on breaking my unspoken rule for the night and coming without permission when Ransom grabs him by his hair and kisses him in a way that I swear I can feel, pleasure rippling through Pax's body and into mine.
Ran shoves him off of me and I pull away from Cope with a sly smile, rolling onto my back again. I survey the men around me, feeling wily, like a fox. No, a vixen. See, I'm all about metaphors tonight. It's the only way I can describe the indescribable, explain this sudden violent surge of need inside of me.
If I think about it, I imagine that this is my body celebrating, a farewell party to the metaphorical roadie that she used to be, just someone to carry around the boss' equipment. Now, she is the musician.
“You're having a grand old time, aren't you, Miss Lilith Tempest Goode?” Pax growls as I yank Muse on top of me and help him find my ass again, breathing a sigh of pleasurable relief as he slides into me and kisses me with his glasses slipping down his nose.
I find that so fucking hot.
“I have five men all to myself,” I say, my voice breathless but husky, almost unrecognizable. My nails dig into Derek's back as his lips trail across my jaw, up to my ear. “Why wouldn't I be?”
“I'm all yours,” Muse confirms, making me shiver, my ankles wrapping tight behind his back, holding him against me, encouraging him to move faster, harder, deeper. Sweat drips down his body, scalds me when it hits my skin. With him pressed up against me like this, all I can smell is that smoky scent of his, like a hot cup of tea on a cold morning.
I close my eyes as Muse groans against my throat, coming and quivering in my arms, triggering an orgasm for me, too.
My spirit and my heart felt like they got some closure today, leaving my body unplugged and unfettered. I think that's why my orgasm with Muse hits me so hard. There are no barriers right now, no landmines of grief inside of me. Even Muse's confession doesn't stop the pleasure from obliterating me in violent waves. I'm just glad he told me the truth, that he trusts me enough to talk to me, that he cares enough about what I think.
Muse rolls off and I leave him on his back, panting.
Satisfied.
One down …
I steal Ransom away from Pax with a single kiss to the cheek, drawing his attention away from their make out session and over to me.
He lays back and pulls me on top, so I can straddle him. My goal here is to get Pax and Michael together, just so I can see what it'd be like to have the two alpha males at the same time. So I grab Cope before either of them can approach me, encouraging him to take me from behind.
Our bodies locked together, I ride the ardent wave with my skin tingling, sweat pouring down my body. Strands of my long red hair get stuck to my forehead, the sides of my face, trail over Ransom's skin as I lean down to kiss him.
They're both so worked up that neither of them takes long, Ransom going first, Copeland next, both of them crying out, worshipping me with their hands, their voices, their cocks.
“You know you have serious fucking stamina,” Muse says, lying on his side and watching me as Cope sits back and I climb off of Ransom. “Like, superhuman stamina.”
“I am superhuman,” I say with a smirk worthy of Paxton. “I'm a woman; we all are.”
“You fucking paired me with him on purpose,” Michael growls, the sound sending shivers down my spine. “You know that I think he's a worthless piece of shit.”
“Don't be intimidated, Mikey,” Pax says, his sly smile sharp enough to cut. “And you
might just learn something.”
I straddle Pax the way I did Ransom, Michael behind me.
But instead of taking me from behind, he slides his slick cock into my swollen sex alongside Paxton's, making me shiver and go still, my body melting, surrendering. I can't breathe as he starts to move, his hands locked on my hips, almost hard enough to bruise.
Pax doesn't look surprised at all, pulling my face down to his, kissing me and refusing to let Michael do all the work, arching his hips up off the bed and pleasuring me with every micro movement he makes.
The two of them work me until I can't take it anymore, climaxing so hard that I can feel my body bearing down on them, squeezing them together until it's impossible for them to resist coming with me.
When that rainbow of color arches against the backs of my tightly closed eyelids, I know I'm not the only one that sees it.
Apparently Paxton speaks fluent French which just makes him that much more attractive to me as I lean against the wall at the edge of the stage and listen to him address the crowd with words that I can't understand but that I fucking feel.
“Are you ready for Dublin?” Octavia asks, leaning in close to me so she can be heard over the deafening roar of the crowd and the first few notes plucked from Michael's guitar.
“More than ready,” I tell her, this jittery feeling inside of me that has nothing to do with how sore I am right now. And god, I'm really freaking sore, but I wanted them all last night, so I made it happen. I figure there's probably not a lot of room on a private plane for sex anyway. Instead of hanging out on the bus by ourselves between destinations, we'll be crammed together in an aircraft with Octavia, her assistant, a pair of bodyguards, and the flight crew.
I'm curious to see how that goes.
“Have you ever been out of the country?” I ask as we move a ways away to talk. I don't need to see my boys to feel them, to hear their music reverberate inside the very depths of my soul. It pounds through the floor, finds its way into my blood, my bones.
Roadie (Rock-Hard Beautiful Book 2) Page 25
