Shayla tipped her head to the side and grabbed Beau’s wrist, using it to maneuver his hand over the tight thatch of curls between her thighs. When she released him, he didn’t let go as she unzipped his jeans and then drew out his cock.
“You don’t seem all that tired to me,” she murmured. She beckoned Rex from his post in the doorway with a wave of her hand.
He stared back at the woman who’d been Quinn’s understudy earlier that night. At times, like now, guilt weighed on him. Not so much towards Quinn. She had made her feelings known so it wasn’t as if he was cheating on her. If she wanted to be with him, he’d never touch another woman again. But sometimes he felt bad for the women he was with. He was never truly present, always wishing they were someone else. It felt wrong somehow.
“Come and fuck me, T-Rex.”
Right.
He shook his head at the timely reminder of what Shayla, and all the women before her, were after—T-Rex Campbell, drummer of Hank Lemon and the Law. Groupies who spent their time with him pretending he was someone else too. They didn’t know him, really know him, at all. Not like Quinn did.
Suddenly, he wanted to be anywhere but there. “I’m really beat, I think I’m just going to hit the sack. You guys have fun though.”
Shayla shrugged and turned her attention back to Beau, who sent him a knowing look.
“Man, no sense letting yourself get all in knots about that. Like you said, it was nothing. You can’t spend your life waiting on something that’s never gonna happen.”
Never gonna happen.
He was probably right, and even still, Shayla had long lost her appeal. Rex gave his friend a salute and let himself out of the room. He stood by Quinn’s door for a long second and lifted a fist to knock before lowering it.
What would he even say?
“Hey, why did you get that look on your face when Shayla invited you to bed with us?”
Very smooth. She’d probably laugh him off the bus.
He strode into the living room and then flopped down on his makeshift bed. This had been the longest couple of weeks of his life. Just when he’d come to terms with the idea of moving on, his progress had come to a screeching halt. Quinn had been a constant temptation since she’d moved in. There was no break from the pain and longing.
Even when she wasn’t around, she was everywhere. Stiletto shoes under his bed, sweet-smelling soap in the bathroom, pomegranates and yogurt ever present in the refrigerator, the sound of her singing in the shower.
He walked out of the club tonight determined to get back on track, forget about her for a while and be a young, normal, healthy male. With that one look, she’d decimated him. That second of indecision on her face brought him back to square one, to the day he thought he might have even a sliver of a chance with her. It would haunt him now and ruin him for any other woman. He’d replay that moment over and over until it drove him insane or he came right out and begged.
He was so fucked.
He stretched out on the couch and willed himself to shut down mentally, to relax. Seemed as if the only time his brain got a break from Quinn was when he slept, and sometimes not even then. But neither his mind nor his body was willing to cooperate. Understudies just weren’t cutting it anymore. The empty exchanges were almost mechanical…necessary releases that didn’t seem to even scratch the surface of his need.
Not with Quinn though. He knew it would be different. His imagination ran wild with images of her and what it would be like between them. He threw an arm over his eyes and, relentless, every fantasy he’d ever had crowded his consciousness. His cock throbbed hot against his belly as he tried to will them away.
Quinn backed up against the shower wall, eyes closed, hands over her head in surrender. Quinn, water streaming down her body but for the fat droplets clinging to the rosy tips of her breasts.
Helpless to fight any longer, he slipped his hand under the waistband of his pants and took firm hold of his dick. His cock jerked in his hand as he fisted the shaft in long strokes. He let out a groan as the images moved faster, blending seamlessly into an often-watched movie.
Quinn, graceful hand working between her thighs, butterfly strokes on her clit bringing her closer and closer. Quinn, eyes snapping open to look into his, her full lips parting as she gasped, “Rex.”
He worked himself faster, the knot in his stomach contracting and his balls pulling tight to his body. The wave hit hard, crashing over him. He grunted, barely managing to bite back the name on his lips. The pressure in his stomach unfurled as hot cum streamed from his cock in a rush onto his stomach. He sucked in a breath and waited for his pounding heart to slow.
One week. Seven more days, and maybe he could get back an ounce of sanity.
Maybe.
Chapter 3
“Whoohoo!” Quinn hollered into the mic as she flung out her hand toward Beau. “That’s Beau ‘Fiddly’ Trudeau on the fiddle, ladies and gentlemen!”
She turned, pointing behind her and the screams of the audience grew louder.
“We got T-Rex Campbell on the drums. And me? I’m Quinn Myles. We are Hank Lemon and the Law. Thank you so much, Atlanta. We love you!”
The crowd rose to their feet in a wave and the applause rained over her like a thousand kisses. She loved this. Closing her eyes to savor the moment, she took a bow then jogged offstage, her band-mates close behind.
“Awesome show, love,” Rex said, his eyes alight with excitement. He swiped a towel over his face to mop off the sweat but some blazed a trail down his bare chest. She resisted the urge to follow its path.
“You sounded great, darlin’.” Beau gave her a huge grin and she grinned back at him.
This is what they lived for and despite her turmoil of late, nothing could bring her down on the night of a good show. Maybe that was part of the reason she felt so close to the two of them. Who could understand the high of performing, the love of the music, better than people who did what she did?
When they had decided to put together their three-piece indy-rock band a few years before, all of them would have been thrilled to eke out a living playing local clubs and bars. Things had blown up fast and already they were making a name for themselves, picking up bigger venues across the country. They’d signed with a mid-sized label and would be back in the studio soon to record what they all felt was their best work yet. Big things were on the horizon.
“The crowd was amazing. So much energy. It was easy to get swept away with them,” she said.
They continued chatting about the gig as they made their way to the band’s hospitality room. Some members of the crew trickled in ahead of them and the room was buzzing with excitement, everyone stoked for a job well done. Quinn stepped through the door and clapped her hands.
“You guys were awesome, as usual. Thanks so much, we couldn’t do it without you.” The room broke out in a smattering of applause.
She, Beau and Rex headed over to the makeshift bar. Rex thrust his hands into an ice-filled cooler and pulled out a bottle of water for each of them. She was in the midst of sucking down the first half when a hush fell over the room.
A gorgeous woman with long black hair had come in and was making a beeline for them. Dammit, couldn’t Rusty give them like five minutes before sending back the goddamn groupies? Quinn’s stomach pitched as, in her peripheral, she saw both Beau and Rex stand up a little straighter.
“Dibs,” Beau muttered from the side of his mouth and Rex barked out a laugh.
“Hi, y’all. I’m Jasmine.”
Of course you are. Like the Disney princess.
The guys introduced themselves and the woman rewarded them with a stunner of a smile. Even Quinn was dazzled for a second before she remembered she hated her on principle. She looked her up and down, trying in vain to find a flaw.
Nada.
Five-four-ish with an elegant, trim frame much more subtle than a lot of the groupies had. She wore little makeup, probably because she didn’t need it. Her dark skin w
as luminous, even upon ruthless inspection, and her hair was so lush and glossy it made Quinn want to spit. She focused her attention back on the conversation.
“Sure, I’d love a glass of wine,” Jasmine was saying as she tossed her gleaming locks.
Both guys reached for the bottle and Quinn rolled her eyes. She was more than a little mortified when they filled with tears. She blinked hard a few times then swallowed the golf ball wedged in her throat. Time to make herself scarce. She’d barely made it through the night before with her heart intact.
“I’ll catch up with you guys later. I’m going to go back to the bus to shower.”
She had taken half a dozen steps before she turned around and went back. The three looked at her expectantly. “I forgot something,” she mumbled, then shoved her hand into the ice and pulled out a bottle of chardonnay. “’Night.”
If she had her way, by the time they got around to coming back to the Man Bus, she’d be sawing logs. She was a lightweight, so it would be an easy enough task. Besides, she had a huge incentive. Stay awake and listen to Rex and Beau have sex with someone other than her. Again. Or get buzzed enough to conk out and not have to hear Rex and Beau with another woman. It was a no-brainer.
Half an hour later, with a towel on her wet head, a full wineglass and a bag of pretzels, Quinn sat in the tiny space that acted as a living room. Although most of his stuff was in Beau’s room, Rex had been sleeping on the pullout couch since she’d taken over the second bedroom. The sofa bed was in disarray but she didn’t want to disturb his ordered chaos.
Still too amped from the show to go to sleep, she sat scrunched up on the bean bag chair in the corner watching Twilight Zone episodes.
About twenty-five minutes and a glass and a half of wine into her favorite episode, To Serve Man, a tinkling laugh rang from the kitchen. Ah, Princess Jasmine. She hadn’t even heard them come in. She scooped up her stuff and stood, hoping to sneak off before anyone saw her.
“It’s a cookbook,” Rex said with a smile as he stepped into the room, gaze on the TV behind her.
He must have showered back in his dressing room, because his hair was damp and he’d donned his threadbare David Bowie shirt and jogging pants. He looked delicious, and for a second she actually felt short of breath.
She gave herself a mental shake. Twilight Zone. Right.
“If only you’d been there to warn them, you could have saved all those poor people from certain death.”
He chuckled and started to say something else but was derailed when Beau stepped into the room with the striking brunette on his arm.
“Hey, I love this episode,” he said. “Have you seen it, Jazz?”
Awesome. She merited a nickname now.
“Jazz” shook her glossy head. “No. The show is kind of silly, don’t you think? The special effects are terrible.”
The guys looked at her with matching “Well, duh” faces, and Quinn got an evil tingle of pleasure.
“Yeah, that’s half its charm,” she explained, hoping her smile didn’t look condescending. “Anyway, there’s a marathon this weekend so it’ll be on again.” She hit the remote and skirted by the little crowd, wineglass in hand. “I’m going to bed. See you in the morning,” she called over her shoulder.
As she passed the kitchen she heard Jasmine giggle. She doubled back and grabbed the rest of the wine out of the fridge. She had a feeling she was going to need it.
It had been a good plan, but even good plans failed sometimes. A half an hour later she stared at the shadows on the ceiling, contemplating whether to leave and get a hotel room or stick it out. She’d polished off another glass of wine, but instead of getting her drunk, it was just making her already sour stomach feel worse.
A low groan rumbled through the wall and she cringed. What were they doing in there? Was Beau kissing Jasmine’s thighs until she shook? Was Rex sucking her nipple while his hand cupped her ass? Were they fucking her, maybe even at the same time?
Quinn’s cheeks burned even as moisture and heat rushed to her core. She lifted her hands to cover her aching breasts and bit her lip to stifle a moan. Shit, it had been so long. Since before the guys had told her how they felt about her, because since then she could think of nothing else. Once the cat was out of the bag, no other man would do. Seemed as if they had no trouble getting over her though.
She gave herself a mental shake. That wasn’t fair. She had no right to sulk about that. She’d refused them both because the thought of choosing made her heart ache. And the thought of losing one of them in the process or causing a rift between them? Inconceivable.
But did that mean she couldn’t be with them, even one time? She’d seen their expressions when Shayla had invited her into their bedroom. They were definitely in to the idea, at least for one night. Maybe they’d all be settling for less than what they truly wanted, but life was so short, and they cared about each other. They were strong enough to weather the aftermath, weren’t they?
Beau’s low voice vibrated through the wall, but she couldn’t make out what he was saying. Was he telling Jazz how beautiful she was? Quinn’s heart gave a squeeze and a second later, she was on her feet. Fueled by raw emotion mixed with need, she had no plan beyond walking into that room.
She stood outside the doorway and laid a hand on the knob. Then she sucked in a deep breath and turned it.
Chapter 4
A soft click penetrated both the sexual haze clouding Beau’s mind and the thighs that covered his ears, but he ignored it anyway. Pretty easy to do when he was about three seconds away from having a mouthful of sweet pussy. Jasmine was hot and clearly ready for action. Her hips twitched, urging him closer and he smiled.
“C-Can I come in?”
Beau sat up and turned to see Quinn standing there in a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top. He tried to answer, but his vocal cords were frozen so he just nodded. What the hell was she doing there?
A second later, Rex was standing behind her. He looked like someone had just kicked him in the balls. “Hey, love. What’s going on?”
Quinn whipped her head around and gasped. “Shit, Rex, you scared me. I thought you were both in here. I wanted to know if…” She paused, and her throat worked restlessly. “If I could come in. But—”
“Yes,” Rex said in a voice so soft, Beau wondered if he imagined it.
Apparently, it had been loud enough for Jasmine to hear.
“Wait, what the hell is happening? He said he didn’t want to get in on this. And what’s she doing in here?” Jasmine’s lovely voice had gotten shrill and Beau suddenly wished her clit was a mute button instead.
Rex ignored Jasmine and kept his gaze trained on Quinn. “Tell me what you want to do, love.”
Beau didn’t breathe as he waited for her answer. “I’d…I’d like to join you guys.”
She stepped into the room then turned to close the door behind her. This time, the click was deafening.
Oh hell yeah.
Beau’s cock jerked as the possibilities ran through his mind. He moved to stand, but Rex had already led Quinn into the room.
Rex reached out to push the purple lock of hair from her eye. “You sure?”
The words were heavy with more than just that one question and Beau wanted to pop him in the mouth. This was their chance to finally be with Quinn and here went Rex, trying to fuck it up.
“I’m sure. And tomorrow it’s back to friends.”
Rex gave a slow nod and they both turned to face him.
“Beau?” she asked. He could deal with that. “I’m in.”
“Well I’m not. I’m not into women, you know. This isn’t what I signed on for,” Jasmine said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She yanked her dress back into place and stared down at him with a challenge in her eye.
Bad move.
“That’s fair. You can grab your stuff and I’ll get one of the crew to walk you back to your car.”
“Fine then. Maybe Rusty will find me a little mo
re interesting.” She bent to grab her shoes and walked out in search of their road manager.
“Sorry,” Quinn called a split second after the door slammed. Beau grinned at her. She didn’t sound sorry.
“Are you mad at me? I kind of cock-blocked you.”
“Nah, darlin’. I didn’t get cock-blocked. I got upgraded, and Rusty is gonna be one happy son of a bitch,” he said with a chuckle as he stood. “Wouldn’t have been fair to her anyway. Once you stepped in the room, I couldn’t focus on anything but you.”
She gave him a shaky smile then turned to face Rex.
“Ready?” she whispered. He nodded and slid his arms around her.
She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his mouth.
Rex sucked a breath in through his nose. Her scent hit him hard, cherries and almonds, right in the gut. Every time he got a whiff of her handmade soap when he was in the shower, he’d get an instant hard-on. It was even more potent on her and up close. The softness of her mouth was so sweet, her lips so luscious, he was stunned for a second.
Off balance, he leaned forward. Heat sizzled through him as his bare chest brushed against her breasts. Her nipples peaked, the tight buds branding him. Blood rushed in his ears as her tongue slipped between his lips and a dam broke inside him. He thrust his hand into her hair, anchoring her mouth to his as he put every ounce of feeling into that kiss.
She moaned low in her throat and plastered herself to him. His cock throbbed as he closed his hand over her hip, letting her feel his need. Grinding against him, she plunged her tongue into his mouth.
“You guys coming over here or what?” a low voice drawled. They broke apart, panting.
And there’s the rub.
He had to share her. That’s what she was here for. That’s what they’d agreed to. Her taste still on his lips, he nodded. “Yeah, we’re coming.” He took Quinn’s trembling hand and they walked over to the bed.
“Hey, darlin’,” Beau said as he stood then pulled Quinn close to his chest. “Don’t be nervous, we’re going to take real good care of you.”
Hard Sell: A Bad-Boy, Rock Star Romance Page 35
