Flame (Fire on the Mountain #2) (10 page)

That conversation naturally leads to Levi’s place in their life, her fondness of him shining through on her warm, heart-shaped face. “He’s the only real family Gunner’s ever had. They’re more like brothers than cousins, meaning they bicker and talk shit nonstop, but they’re fiercely protective and would kill for each other. Spending the last year on tour with the two of them, we all got really . . . close.”

She stops talking to retrieve a credit card from her wallet to pay for her purchases, but not before I pick up on a roguish gleam in her tawny eyes. Parting my lips to ask about her peculiar expression, I wisely close them before any words slip through. It’s none of my business what relationship or feelings she may or may not share with Levi.

Two weeks of fun. That’s it.

I manage to stuff my things into a full-sized suitcase and one rather large duffel bag. Narrowing down what clothes and shoes make the final cut is a tough, lengthy process, but eventually, at one-thirty in the morning, I close the last zipper, turn the lights out, and face-plant onto Hudson’s bed. Thank God my sister never stays at home anymore.

Sleep claims me before I can finish my standard nightly prayer, and after what seems like only five minutes, the alarm on my phone is shrilling in my ear, yelling that it’s time to wake up. Pushing the covers to the side, I pop out of bed and head straight to the shower, eager to get on the road and see what the next fifteen days of my life will be like.

After scrubbing and shaving every inch of my five-foot-nothing body, I let my hair dry naturally, long and wavy, then apply a light coat of mascara to my blond lashes. A healthy layer of shimmery coconut gloss on my lips pairs perfectly with the pineapple-scented lotion and body spray I’m addicted to. Living where subzero temperatures and blizzards are the norm, I infuse as much tropical beach vacation as I can into my life.

Cutoff denim shorts that are longer than daisy dukes but not quite soccer-mom-appropriate hang low on my hips, inches below the belly ring I got on my sixteenth birthday. The small silver barbells through my nipples are concealed by a white cami with a built-in shelf-bra, which is all the support I need for my nearly-a-handful twin mounds. A bright orange, oversized tank top with the words “Do Epic” printed in white across the chest hangs loosely over the undershirt, perfecting the comfortable but cute outfit.

Balancing my sunglasses on top of my head, I stuff my phone and wallet inside my fringed camel crossbody and grab my bags. I said my goodbyes to my parents last night, since they’d be over at the lodge this morning with the resort guests. And even though I detected a small amount of disappointment about me leaving as soon as I got here, they wished me a good time and reminded me to check in every couple of days so they wouldn’t worry.

Grams, however, is waiting for me in the kitchen as I make my way down the hall, just like I knew she would be. There was no way I could get out of here without some piece of her always
interesting
advice. I honestly don’t know where she comes up with half the shit she says, but it’s never fails to entertain.

“Morning, Grams.” I kiss her cheek as I open the refrigerator to grab a soda and an apple. “I think I’m just about ready to go. The bus is supposed to swing by and pick me up in about fifteen minutes. I left the keys to my Jeep in the key bowl if anyone needs them.”

“Perfect, honey. Don’t you worry about a thing; just have a good time, like people your age should,” she replies, grabbing something off the countertop.

Then, turning back around to face me, she hands me a giant Tupperware container filled with homemade cookies and brownies baked with her special form of TLC—
THC
—and a bag of disposable razors. “Chocolate, cannabis, and a cleanly shaved cunny are the way to win and
keep
a man’s heart, my dear Dakota. This should be enough for your trip, and when you get back, I’ll teach you the recipe so you can keep feeding him when he comes back for more.”

I’m not sure exactly how to respond to her declaration. Instead, I simply nod and take the things she’s giving me.

“Oh!” She sticks her finger in the air as she remembers something else. “And we’ll make you an appointment for a bikini wax when you return as well. I didn’t get a chance to schedule one for you, since this happened so quickly, but he’ll be hungry for more of
that
too!”

Wow. Just when I think she can’t shock me anymore, she pulls out
cleanly shaved cunny
.

A long, deep horn sound from outside saves me from any further mortification, and I whisper a quick thank you prayer to the heavens. Pulling Grams into a tight goodbye hug, I plant another smack on her cheek with my lips. “Thanks for everything, Grams. I love you. And even though I don’t need any stinky ol’ boy’s heart, there’s no need to worry. I keep her majesty,
Elizabeth,
bald and smooth all the time.”

Amusement dances in her violet eyes as she shakes her finger and
tsk-tsks
me through the foyer and out the front door. “Go! Shoo! Take your queen and go get her crowned!” she shouts at me as I cross the yard to where Emilia, Gunner, and Levi are waiting for me in the front drive.

In addition to the obnoxiously gigantic tour bus that’s solid black except for the bright red logo of some energy drink on the side of it, there is also a black Suburban pulling a trailer that matches the bus. It all looks pretty ritzy, and my fears of having to possibly camp in the desert of New Mexico are alleviated. I’m not really a high-maintenance girl, but no mattress and no running water are hard limits in my traveling contract.

“Hey, guys, welcome to Rocky Mountain marijuana paradise. These bags are heavy as shit. Don’t worry; I packed us some free samples of the best stuff. Which bed is mine?”

My arms tremble—whether from the heavy luggage, or the nervous anxiety tripping through my system, I’m not sure.

“Mornin’, Sunshine.” He strides toward me, brushing his thick, dark locks out of his eyes as a lazy smirk flits across his scruffy face. Bending slightly at the knees, he transfers the luggage from my hands to his then leans into my neck and whispers, “Your bags go in my room, gorgeous girl, but I can’t promise you we’ll be doin’ much sleepin’.”

My entire body trembles at his promising words, and without wasting another minute, I take off for the bus, calling out over my shoulder, “Last one in has to do a shot!”

MONDAY, JUNE 18

SHE THINKS SHE’S SO FUCKING
cute, bouncing around in the captain’s chair, holding a bottle of high-dollar tequila in her lap, and taunting me with her smug, triumphant grin. She thinks she’s won at some little game.
Ha!
Sunshine’s about to learn how things work on this bus.

After taking my sweet-ass time putting her bags away in
my
room, I return to the common area, where all three of them are sitting . . . waiting . . . brimming with anticipation to see what I’m going to say or do. Shit, I’m excited to see how this is all going to play out. We haven’t been on the bus five minutes and, already, we’re going to have a battle of wills. I hope she’s up for the challenge.

Reaching up into the cabinet over the fridge, I pull out a shot glass and the tequila salt, setting them both on the countertop. I turn to face Dakota and flash her my most charming, boy-next-door smile, the one that gets me most anything I want, before tapping my fingers on top of the dinette table.

“Gonna need you up here, Sunshine,” I drawl, silently relishing her expression as it shifts from victorious to confused.

“You need what?” she balks, narrowing her eyes at me. “Why do you need
me
up there?”

“You mean you didn’t hear me?” I glance over at Emmy Sue and Gunner, doing my best to keep a straight face. “You guys heard me, right?”

Gunner nods, his forehead creased with feigned seriousness while Emmy Sue erupts in a fit of giggles on the couch. Rolling my eyes, I refocus my gaze on Dakota.

“Well, gorgeous, if you want me to drink any of that tequila you’re holdin’ there, you’re gonna need to crawl your pretty lil self up on this table. If you’d listened instead of running off, you might have heard the deal.”

Chewing the corner of her bottom lip, she glances over at her friend, probably hoping for some sort of guidance. There’s no question she’s going to be naked in my bed sooner rather than later, so her decision isn’t truly about the body shot. No, this little pain in the ass wants to set a precedent. She wants to be the one in control.

She’s not.

“What do you think, Emmy Sue?” I ask the question for her. “This a good idea Dakota and I came up with? Every time during the entire trip that we load up for a new city, the first one in is the body base, and the last one in takes the shot. No exceptions.”

Emmy Sue’s face lights up at the prospects of this little game, the little freak in her dying to come out and play, and I know I have her vote. “I think it sounds . . .
intriguing
.” Licking her lips, she waggles her eyebrows suggestively at Gunner. “You in, babe?”

“Hell yeah, I’m in!” Gunner is a red-blooded male on a bus with his hot-ass wife and her sexy friend. Of course he’s in . . . even if it means he and I have to struggle through a couple of body shots off each other throughout the trek. We’ve shared a girl in bed more than once before, so we’re confident enough in our hetero-masculinity around each other.

Standing up from the chair, Dakota doesn’t say a word as she hands me the bottle and climbs up on the table, lying flat on her back. She gathers her long blonde waves over one shoulder and exhales a deep breath, her chest rising and falling with the action. My cock swells as I watch.

Fuck yes!

Not wanting to gloat too long in my win, I swiftly grab a lime from the fridge and cut it into wedges then fill a small clear glass with the clear liquor. As I spin back around, I catch a glimpse of our eager, wide-eyed audience of two before fixing my attention back on the beauty laid out before me.

“So how’s this gonna go, Hulk? Do you need—?”

I shove a lime wedge into her mouth midsentence, effectively shutting her up. Then, I wink at her. Her blue eyes flare with a mixture of lust and defiance.

“I’ll tell you exactly how it’s gonna go. First, we’re pretending that lime I just put between your teeth is a gag, which will hopefully keep your smart mouth quiet long enough for me to do this.” Pausing, I grab the salt off the counter then push the bottom hem of her shirt up to expose her flat, tanned stomach, cute little belly ring and all. It took every ounce of restraint not to jump the gun and run my tongue along it.

“Next, I’m going to lick some of this salt off your stomach before I swallow down that shot right there, suck the juice out of that fruit in your mouth, and then carry your sweet ass to my bed and do what I should’ve done four days ago. How does that sound, Sunshine?”

Whimpering, she inhales a deep breath through her nose then blows it out through her mouth. Her legs rub together like she can feel me there already. Unable to talk, she raises her brows, pins her gaze on me, and silently asks,
Whatcha waitin’ for, Hulk?

Absolutely nothing.

Less than ten seconds later, the coarse salt granules grate over my taste buds, the warm, spicy tequila splashes against the back of my throat, and my lips slant over Dakota’s as I drink the tangy lime juice from her mouth. Then, as promised, I slide my hands under her thin frame as I hoist her in the air and march to the back of the bus, not giving a fuck about the two people we’re leaving behind. I’ve got important shit to take care of . . .
her.