Down To You: Rockstar Romance (Sixth Street Bands Book 5)

by Jayne Frost

  I stopped in my tracks. “Do you want me to go?”

  After last night and today, I’d never thought about it. But obviously she had.

  “Not at all.”

  Relieved, I climbed onto the bed. Onto her. Nudging her legs apart, my lips found that spot on her neck that I loved. But she didn’t respond.

  Tipping back, I looked down my nose at her. “What is it?”

  Her lashes fluttered, a sure sign I wasn’t imagining things. Something was up.

  “Was it good?” she asked in a small voice.

  And I knew she couldn’t be talking about the sex. There was no way. But when she lifted her gaze, the doubt was there. How could she not know?

  Sighing, I laced our fingers together and rolled onto my back. “Come here.”

  She pulled a face. “I’m right here.”

  I gave her hand a tug, and reluctantly she scooted down. When I shifted onto my side, she followed suit.

  “How was it for you?” I asked, and surprisingly, I wasn’t entirely sure what her answer would be.

  Maybe the metric ton of orgasms I coaxed from her body wasn’t enough.

  A shy smile broke on her lips. “Good.”

  Cocking a brow, I slid my hand to her ass. “Just good?”

  “Really good.”

  Slotting my leg between hers, I pulled her closer. Flush against me. Skin to skin. “What did you like the best?”

  She pondered for a moment. “Promise you won’t laugh.” Right on cue, I did just that. She responded with a scowl. “I’m not telling you now, jackass.”

  Heat flashed in her gaze, and not because I was rocking my leg against the warmth between her thighs.

  “Come on.” I rocked a little harder. “Tell me.”

  A sigh and a great big eye roll. “The kissing, all right?” After a long moment of stunned silence on my part, Tori tipped her chin stubbornly. “What did you like best?”

  Her knees fell open when I eased her onto her back, and her soft thighs molded my ribs. “This.”

  She looked disappointed. And honestly, I felt like a dick for lying. Or misdirecting. Because it wasn’t her pussy that I liked best. It was the feel of her legs around me. Her warmth. Everything. All the things.

  Before Tori could pull the rest of the truth from me, I kissed her. Long, slow, and hungry.

  She broke the connection and blinked up at me with hooded eyes. “Can I be on top?”

  The words barely left her lips and I had her above me, straddling my waist. My hand came to rest on her hip, right over the braided skin, and dread swam up and clouded her pretty gaze.

  “Is this hurting you?” Stupid question. Anything that had to do with the accident caused Tori pain. From her memories to her scars to the void that might never be filled. “Physically? This position?”

  “No. I just … I didn’t realize you could see everything if I was like this.” Her shoulders sagged. “It’s not sexy.”

  For all her confidence, and the girl had a bunch, it didn’t translate to whatever she saw in the mirror. What I saw when I looked at her.

  “You’re sexy, Victoria.” Her eyes locked onto mine. Holding. Searching. “You think this—” I ran my thumb along the scar below her breast— “makes me want you less? You’re more than the fucking scars, baby. More than the stories they tell. You’re just …”

  Everything.

  She didn’t see it because her pieces were scattered. And one day when she was whole, this would probably be over. Until then, I’d take what she offered.

  “I’m what?”

  Twining a hand in her hair, I brought her lips to mine. “Perfect the way you are.” Snatching a condom from the nightstand, I winked at her. “Now ride me like it’s your fucking job.”

  34

  Logan stepped onto the private balcony, blue eyes roaming over me from tip to toe. Dressed for the gig tonight, he wore his favorite jeans—faded with holes in both knees—and a black T-shirt that fit like a second skin.

  His hair had grown out since we started the tour and fell over his eyes, messy in all the right ways. And he hadn’t bothered to shave. All and all, he looked every inch the rock god. And suddenly, the thought of thousands of women checking him out did things to my stomach.

  Bad things.

  Painful things.

  Dropping into the chair beside my lounger, Logan frowned as he continued his slow perusal of my body. Even though we’d been naked together for the majority of the last three days, this was different. Stretched out on my stomach under the unforgiving sun in just a bikini, I felt more exposed than I ever had when we were in bed.

  I was about to sit up and pull on my robe when he said, “You’re going to burn, baby. How long have you been out here?”

  I smiled. “Not long. And I won’t burn.”

  He picked up my foot, and I almost purred as he began to rub small circles on my instep. “I’m not so sure about that. You look a little pink.”

  My eyes drifted closed. “Trust me, I never burn. I’m half-Mexican.”

  He stopped rubbing. “Really?”

  “Um-hmm … on my mother’s side.” When he didn’t say anything, I twisted to look at him. “You seem surprised.”

  And how could I blame him? My bronze glow had faded years ago. With the exception of my yearly trip to the Guadalupe River in the spring, I never got any sun.

  “No, I can see it,” he said, returning to his task. “I was just thinking about Zoe. I assumed your mom was blond, since your sister’s so …”

  He squirmed, and I smiled. “Fair?” If there was a politically correct term for “white,” that was it. But I hated mincing words. “Chalky? Pasty? Kind of like you?”

  One brow quirked high. “I’m not chalky, princess.”

  I laughed, resting my cheek on my folded arms. “Whatever you say. But … Zoe … she’s adopted. Kind of.”

  “How is someone ‘kind of’ adopted?”

  “She’s a foster child.” My tone turned wistful as I thought about my sister, the way she’d looked the first day I saw her. “She’s been with my parents since she was four. Courtney, her birth mother, is in prison, but,” I heaved a sigh, “she hasn’t given up her rights.”

  Logan’s heavy gaze found mine. “Why?”

  He’d done it again—unearthed something so personal. Without even trying.

  “Because of me, I think. The first Damaged album hit right after Zoe was placed in my parents’ care. I’m not sure, but I think Courtney might be looking for a payday when she gets out.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “Soon. Trevor’s on it, though. He says we don’t have anything to worry about.”

  But I was worried. And I think Logan sensed it. Because he didn’t say anything more.

  After a long moment, I felt the cushion on my lounger dip when he dropped a knee onto the side.

  “Come to the show tonight?” He tugged on the string holding my bikini bottom together and, sweeping the fabric aside, pressed a kiss to my ass cheek. “Please.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Slipping his hand around to my stomach, his fingers dipped lower, finding the slick heat between my thighs.

  “Come …” he roughed out, nipping the back of my neck. “Can you?”

  “To the show?”

  He smiled against my skin. “Sure. That too.” Two fingers slid into my core, and he pumped hard, eliciting a harsh moan. “You look so fucking hot right now, Victoria.”

  I loved the way he said my name. It sounded so sinful on his lips. But then I remembered where we were.

  “What if someone sees us?” I panted.

  “Nobody’s going to see us unless they have a helicopter.”

  It sounded logical. And honestly, I was too far gone to argue. It was like all the years without sex had turned me into some wild thing. Or maybe it was Logan. I wanted him. All the time. His mouth. His fingers. His cock. His dirty words.

  Lost to the rhythm, I squeezed my eyes
shut, grinding mercilessly against his hand.

  “Fuck … Lo … God … I’m going to come.”

  His teeth grazed my earlobe, and I felt him smile. “So do it. Let me hear you.”

  I flew apart, his name spilling from my lips like a prayer as he pressed open mouth kisses along my spine. Before the final spasm wracked my body, I heard his jeans slide down his hips, followed by the crinkle of the condom wrapper.

  “Up, baby,” he rasped as he pulled me onto all fours. And then he was inside me, buried to the hilt. “Am I hurting you?”

  Every time. He asked me that every time.

  I pushed back against him. “No. Please …”

  “Please what?” he growled. “Fuck you? Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

  My eyes rolled back. “I do. Oh, God. I do.”

  “Then say it.” I gasped when his hand came down on my left ass cheek. Not hard. Just enough to sting. “Say it, baby.”

  “Fuck me, Lo … Please.”

  He cursed and then pulled all the way out. Panicked, I whipped my head around.

  Sunlight framed him, and I couldn’t make out his expression. But his voice was demanding. “Roll over.”

  In this position, with my pussy bared to him, I couldn’t have been more exposed. Unless I was on my back. In the sun. With nowhere to hide. Gripping the towel beneath me, I did as he asked.

  “Don’t hide from me, Victoria.”

  It was a standoff. And one I couldn’t win. So I took a breath, and shoved the terry cloth aside.

  He stepped out of his denim and then climbed on top of me.

  “Why this way?” I asked as he pushed inside me again.

  His lips ghosted mine, and he smiled. “Didn’t you say kissing was the best part?”

  35

  Security met me in the parking lot at the venue. Before I’d made it two steps, Elise shouldered her way into the wall of flesh surrounding me.

  “You missed the pre-show press conference,” she accused as we shuffled toward the tents.

  “Traffic.”

  And Tori. Between the fucking and the shower that followed, I’d kept the driver waiting for almost an hour.

  “The driver said—”

  “Traffic,” I repeated, and when I cut my gaze her way, she pressed her lips into a firm line.

  I wasn’t in the best mood. Tori had refused to come to the show. And while I couldn’t blame her—we were less than a week from the tabloid incident, and the press still hadn’t let it go—I wanted her here.

  Head in the game.

  Taking my own advice, I pulled my shoulders back. “I’ll do an extra couple of interviews in New York,” I said as we reached the barricades. “Set them up.”

  Elise rolled her eyes. “Because there’s going to be so much press coverage in the Catskills?”

  Busted. Our next stop was upstate New York. Remote, with a laid-back vibe. The kind of place I used to hate.

  I smiled. “Hey, I offered. If you line something up, I’m there.”

  Otherwise it was long mountain drives. Picnics. And as much sex as I could talk Tori into.

  Fuck, I had it bad. The “it” everyone always talked about.

  I’d been inside Tori’s body over a dozen times in the past three days. And no matter what the tabloids claimed from the women who’d shared my bed, that was a lot. And yet, the mere thought of Tori made me hard, left me wanting. Because I did want her. Every soft piece. Every slick hole. All of it.

  Elise mumbled a goodbye, heading in the other direction when we got to the media tent. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, it didn’t strike me as odd that no voices rang from inside the canvas cocoon.

  “The prodigal son returns,” Cameron said as I pushed my way through the flap.

  I smiled, genuinely happy to see him. It felt like we hadn’t spoken in … shit … I wasn’t sure how long.

  Maybe going in for a bro hug was overkill, but I would’ve done it. Except for the look on his face that said, “try it and you might lose a limb.”

  He was pissed. Pissed enough to make sure that whatever he had to say wouldn’t be overheard. Because we were alone. Really alone. No Sean or Christian. No roadies or security. And since there were enough people roaming around outside to fill two stadiums, that couldn’t be an accident.

  Treading lightly, I closed the distance between us and shrugged off my backpack.

  “Dude,” I said, hand on my heart as I smiled down at him. “This is really romantic. But I hope you’re not planning on proposing. Because, you know, I don’t like you in that way. But we can still be friends, right?”

  Cameron’s hazel eyes flared, but I thought I detected a little amusement. “Sit down, jackass.”

  I flopped into the chair, still smiling. “What’s up?”

  Cameron tipped forward. “Really?” he hissed. “You begged off rehearsal yesterday. You didn’t show up one time to the hotel to go over the new arrangements I’m working on. You haven’t returned my fucking calls … and you’re asking me what’s up?”

  I scratched the back of my neck, “Yeah … well …”

  My lungs refused to expel enough air to push out any excuses. Because I had none. I’d called off band practice yesterday because I didn’t feel like going. But I couldn’t tell Cameron that. I couldn’t tell him anything. If he was pissed now, finding out about my fling with Tori would send him straight into orbit.

  “Sorry, bro. It won’t happen again.”

  Cameron looked as surprised to hear the apology as I was to offer it. But I meant every word. I needed to manage my time better.

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it.”

  Straddling the line between irritation and “I want to punch you in the face,” Cameron waited for my reaction. The inevitable blow-up. And the revelation. Until that moment, I didn’t realize I had a pattern.

  I held things inside, then I hit something. And only after I let my temper take me for a ride, leaving devastation and destruction in its wake, did I finally cop to whatever I was hiding.

  “Sorry is all I got, dude. Take it or leave it.”

  Please, please take it.

  I may have been trying to do better, but I was unsteady, like a toddler learning to walk. Apply the right pressure, and I’d topple. I wouldn’t say shit about Tori. But I might hit something, or someone, and since Cameron was the only one here …

  He blew out a breath. “Is there something I don’t know?”

  There were so many things he didn’t know, I couldn’t force out a response. Not even a shake of my head. But there must’ve been something in my eyes, because Cameron softened.

  “Is it Laurel?”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “No. She’s fine.”

  Spilling my guts about Jake would be simpler. An automatic get-out-of-jail-free card covering any and all indiscretions. But I couldn’t do it.

  Before Cameron could dig any deeper, Christian popped his head in the tent. “Is everyone alive in here?”

  Cameron contemplated for a second before waving him in. “Yeah, we’re all good.”

  It didn’t feel that way, but who was I to argue? I was off the hook for the moment.

  Christian joined us, feigning surprise as he looked me over. “Logan, right? I’ve heard of you.”

  Shaking my head, I ignored the goofy bastard and made eye contact with Sean as he strolled to the refreshment table. “Shiner,” I mouthed.

  “Where’s your babysitter?” Christian asked. “I thought she’d be in here.”

  My anger rolled in like the tide. And I couldn’t figure out why. It’s not like Tori and I could wander hand in hand around the festival. Neither of us wanted that kind of attention.

  Except when I spotted Dylan entering the tent with his boys, I thought maybe I did. I wouldn’t mind it one bit if he saw me coax that smile Tori wore when she was thinking dirty thoughts. Because he sure as fuck had never seen it.

  “She isn’t here,” I replied, taking the bottle from Sean.
“Too many people.”

  Cameron’s mood had vastly improved since everyone arrived, and he threw a smile in my direction. “Well, if you’re lucky, you can find someone here and blow off a little steam.” I looked anywhere but at him as I took a swig of my beer. And of course, he picked up on my discomfort. “Wait a minute …” Cocking his head, he glanced me over like he could smell the sex on me. “You ain’t suffering any. Let me guess, you found a little cutie out there in the sticks?”

  “What cutie?” Anna cut in as she slid under Sean’s arm.

  “Logan’s,” my best friend replied, brushing a kiss to her hair.

  Anna’s brows turned inward. “I thought you were with Tori this week?”

  With Tori.

  Anna’s question, coupled with the emerald gaze that had been able to see right through me since high school, stole the denial straight from my lips.

  “He’s not with Tori,” Cameron scoffed. “They’re just stuck together. Speaking of.” He pointed the neck of the bottle at me. “A little birdie told me that you’re about to get sprung.”

  I blinked at him. “Sprung?”

  Cameron rolled his eyes. “Chase said that all you have to do is complete some online courses and they’ll modify your plea agreement so Tori can head home.”

  Shifting my feet, I took another drink. “Uh … yeah. I’m all over it.”

  If all over it meant not even a little bit, then I was.

  Anna’s eyes locked onto mine, her lips parting with a question. But Sean pulled her a little closer and dipped his head to whisper in her ear. I took the opportunity to guzzle what was left of my beer.

  “Be right back,” I said to the group, shaking my empty bottle.

  As I made my way to the refreshment table, I felt a pull on the back of my shirt. “Logan, hold up.”

  I turned to face the only woman I wouldn’t rip apart for pressing the issue. “S’up, Anna-baby?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, frowning. It wasn’t an angry frown, but the sympathetic kind that made my skin crawl. “Is that why you’ve been keeping to yourself? The classes?” Her soft tone elicited the same gut twisting response. “I can help you, Lo. You don’t have to try and figure it out—”