Insider (Exodus End #1) (24 page)

“You did great,” he whispered in her ear. He rotated his hips, rubbing against her overly sensitive clit. She shivered. She couldn’t stand any more pleasure. “Do you want me to take over, or do you think you have the strength to finish me off?”

She was exhausted, but she wanted her actions to give him release. “I’ll do it.”

“Maybe try putting one foot on the ground,” he suggested. He rubbed the leg that was closest to the edge of the couch.

Good plan. Maybe she’d be able to move if her leg was extended. She reluctantly released her leg lock on his hips, wondering if her boots had caused him any injury. Wincing, she straightened her leg, and he shifted so that he was on the very edge of the sofa. She began to move again, slower this time. Logan captured her mouth in a lingering kiss, his hands skimming over her back and buttocks. The tips of her breasts rubbed against his chest as she rose and fell.

“Do you need me to go faster?” she asked when his mouth moved from her lips to press butterfly kisses over her throat.

“I just need you.”

She rode him slowly, pausing between each down stroke and rocking her hips to deepen the connection between them.

“You’re a natural,” he murmured, his breath warming her bare breasts.

He lifted his head to stare at her, blurry-eyed, for a long moment. “Unfortunately, we don’t have much time left,” he finally said. “I do need it faster in order to come. Work it, girl.”

She smiled, realizing he was feeling more than he was letting on and that he wasn’t quite ready to come to terms with what was growing between them. He might not speak many tender words to her, but she felt his affection in his kiss and in his touch, in those rare moments he wasn’t trying to be cute or funny.

“Then give me some room to work,” she said.

He grinned and reclined back. With one foot on the floor and one knee on the sofa, her motions were a bit off center, but Logan didn’t seem to mind. If the way he kept moaning her name was any indication, he rather enjoyed the way it felt to be driven into her at an angle. Within moments he grabbed her hips and pulled her down onto him as he shuddered beneath her.

She’d done it. She’d made him come. Next time, she hoped they’d manage to find release together.

Exhausted, she collapsed on top of him. Her legs quivered uncontrollably from overexertion as she labored for air.

Once she caught her breath, she shifted to lie against his side and rested her head on his chest. She was bone weary but satisfied. And almost giddy with happiness. She never would have guessed that sex could be so fun. Empowering even.

Stroking her tangled hair with one hand, Logan said, “We’d better get dressed. The show starts soon, and any moment now they’ll be sending Butch to kick my naked ass out of bed.”

“I thought I’d stay on the bus during the show,” she said, tilting her head to try to see his face. Mostly she got a view of the underside of his chin. “I can get some work done.” That was a lie. She just wanted some down time to herself. Though she had to admit down time with Logan outstripped being alone by a light year.

“You don’t want to see me perform live?” he asked, lifting his head to scowl down at her.

“I saw hours and hours of live footage while doing research for the book, Logan.”

“That’s not the same,” he said, squirming from beneath her head and rising to his feet. “Not the same at all.”

She gaped after him as he opened the sliding doors and strode confidently into the corridor with his ass displayed in all its naked glory. Toni rose to her feet, reached for a throw blanket, and wrapped it around herself, noting the wet spot on the sofa. She cringed and flipped the cushion over before stumbling after Logan. Was he mad at her? She wasn’t sure if she could handle his ire, not after they’d shared such passion together only moments ago.

Logan shut himself in the bathroom before Toni caught up to him. She stared indecisively at the door. Should she knock? Barge in? Wait until he came out?

“Um, Logan,” she said to the door. “I’ll go if you want me to go.”

“It would mean a lot to me,” she heard him say.

Well, in that case, of course she’d go—frumpy clothes, frizzy hair, frayed nerves and all.

Fifteen

Logan offered Toni a wink and a smile before he slipped the strap of his five-string bass guitar over his shoulder. She smiled back, her ever-inquisitive eyes darting away to observe the ordered chaos of the roadies making final preparations for the band’s stage entrance. He couldn’t deny that he preferred her attention to be focused on him. He entered the door that led to the area beneath the stage and decided that this was something Toni would want to put in the book. Few people had ever seen the underbelly of their new stage setup, which was rigged so that the band members rose from beneath the stage in grand style.

“Hey, Toni,” he called over the din of the waiting audience and the commentary of the stage crew.

She whirled around to look at him, and her eyes widened when he waved her toward him. She glanced around before she headed toward him. Was she embarrassed to be seen with him or what?

“Do you want to see what’s under here for your book?”

She craned her neck to peer into the darkness under the stage. Paths were marked off by dimly lit strips so that each band member could find the appropriate spot to stand for his entrance. A faint blue glow surrounded the drum kit far to the back of the area, but otherwise, it was inky black beneath the stage.

“I don’t think there’s enough light for pictures,” she said.

“You could write about what it’s like to stand under the stage and wait for the show to begin,” he said. “It’s pretty trippy.”

She nodded and ducked her head to enter the small door. Steve had already taken his spot behind the drum kit, but the rest of the band hadn’t found their places.

“Are you sure it’s safe for her under here?” Steve asked.

Logan squinted in his direction, not sure how Steve could see a damned thing in the low light. He decided Steve must have the eyes of a nocturnal owl.

“I’ll keep her safe,” Logan said and settled a hand at the base of Toni’s spine to lead her down his lit path to the platform he rode just in front of the drum kit. She’d probably get better insight for her book if she hung around with Dare or Max or even Steve—Logan was only the bassist, after all, and his entrance was even less impressive than newcomer Reagan’s—but he hadn’t brought Toni here to aid her career. He’d brought her because he had a very unusual desire to be near her as much as possible.

“Did you turn on your video camera?” he asked.

“It’s rolling,” she said, adjusting the headband she wore so that the borrowed headcam was at the side of her head and would see what she saw. Or couldn’t see in the case of the darkened area beneath the stage.

Logan helped her step up onto his platform and moved to stand behind her. She jumped when his guitar bumped against her rear and produced a low tone. His amplifier wasn’t on yet, so at least the sound didn’t radiate out into the arena.

He couldn’t seem to stop his hands from sliding up her body to cup her huge tits and give them an appreciative squeeze.

She slapped at his hands. “You can’t do that here,” she said in a loud whisper.

“Why not?” he murmured in her ear. “No one can see us.”

Her shyness fueled his brazenness, and he ran his hands down her sides just so he could slide them up under her shirt and touch the bare skin of her smooth belly.

“Logan, I’m here to work, not play,” she admonished.

“But the show is our playtime,” Logan said.

“What?”

“The band. We work damned hard at interviews and signings and meet and greets.”

“That’s working hard?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. We always work hard at all that bullshit, so we can play hard on stage.”

“So you don’t take the stage performance seriously?” With that question, Toni sounded like any number of reporters who’d interviewed him throughout his career.

“We take our playtime very seriously. If we aren’t having a good time, the crowd easily picks up on that and they don’t have as good a time either.”

“I can understand how that would be true for you, but Dare and Max seem pretty serious about every aspect of Exodus End.”

Logan scowled. Was she insinuating what he thought she was insinuating? “So you don’t think I take the band seriously?”

“Not as seriously as the others do.”

He supposed he had been slacking off most of the day, but it was because Toni kept distracting him with her wit and her smile and her sweetness and her glorious tits—he gave them another appreciative squeeze beneath her shirt.

“That’s your fault,” he said.

“My fault?” Her exasperated tone made him grin.

“Yep,” he said. “You’re hell on my concentration, baby. Even now I’m thinking of what your tight pussy feels like around my dick.”

“Logan! The camera is rolling.”

He chuckled. “You don’t think the world wants to know what a fantastic little pussy you have?”

“I don’t care what the world wants,
I
don’t want them to know,” she said, squirming out of his grip.

He allowed her a few inches of space and moved his hands to his bass, fearing she’d take a tumble off the edge of his platform if she got too wiggly.

“Come to think of it,” he said. “I don’t want anyone to know that but me. So I ask that you delete the footage of me praising your perfect pussy.”

She bopped him in the nose as she tried to cover his mouth and missed in the darkness. “Stop talking about it.”

“For now,” he said. “But later, when I have you bent over the arm of the sofa and I’m buried inside that hot, slick piece of heaven, I’m going to tell you all about it.”

Her shuddering intake of breath made him grin. He didn’t know why it was so much fun to get her flustered, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Will you tell me how it feels to have my dick inside you?”

“No,” she squeaked.

His grin widened. He’d have her singing his praises by the time he finished with her. It was a challenge he couldn’t resist.

“Are you already under here, Lo?” Max said from Logan’s right.

“Yeah. Just waiting for you guys.”

“He’s under the stage,” Max called to someone. To Logan he said, “We thought you’d wandered off to get some pussy again.”

Toni gasped, and Logan cringed.

“I have all the pussy I want right here,” he said.

His eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness that he could make out Max standing under the center of the stage on his platform, but he couldn’t see his expression.

“You brought Toni under here?” Max asked.

“She’s filming.”

“Hi, Max,” she said quietly. She squeezed Logan’s arm at the same time. He wasn’t sure if the gesture meant she was nervous or appreciative. Damn this darkness.

“Toni’s under here too!” Max called to someone. “Reagan was looking for you,” Max said. “She thought you might want to ride up to the stage with her.”

“She’s riding me,” Logan said, his slip not the least Freudian. He’d meant it to sound sexual. Especially since now he knew how good she was at riding him. If they’d had more time, he’d have let her ride him all slow and sensually for hours. He couldn’t wait to sequester her in his hotel room.

“You’re way in the back, Lo,” Reagan said from the darkness on the other side of the stage. “She won’t get good footage back there.”

“Maybe I can ride with you next time, Reagan,” Toni said. “I’m not sure what to expect.”

Her tight grip on Logan’s forearm made him feel like she wanted his protection, and he was proud to offer it willingly.

“Stand behind me,” he said, “and hold on. Steve will go first. My platform jerks a bit when it first starts to rise, so brace yourself.” He was already used to the stage setup since they’d performed about a dozen shows with the new hydraulics. He’d almost fallen on his ass the first time he’d ridden the platform up to the stage.

“Okay,” Toni said, her voice small, her grip tight.

“About halfway up, we’ll be completely surrounded. Like we’re in a metal tunnel. So if you’re claustrophobic—”

“I’m not.”

He was. But just a little.

One of the stagehands appeared beside him with a flashlight so he could turn on Logan’s amp and connect his ear feed. “You’re live,” he said. He gave him an earplug for his other ear and even provided Toni with a pair.

“One minute,” he heard Mad Dog, their front of house sound engineer, say through his earpiece.

“One minute,” he whispered to Toni, who couldn’t hear Mad Dog’s raspy instructions.

Toni pressed her face into his shoulder. He could feel the trembling of her body behind him. “It’s okay,” he said, though she probably couldn’t hear him through the earplugs.

The stage shuddered as Steve banged out the intro of “Ovation” and his glowing blue platform began to rise at the rear of the stage. As the drum kit slowly rose into view, the crowd erupted into cheers that shook the arena. Logan patted Toni’s hip to remind her that they were next and tugged a guitar pick from the tape stuck to his stock. His fingers found his strings automatically. He started playing on his cue—filling the drum progression with the low tones of the bass intro—and braced his feet for the jolt he knew was coming as a door above him slid open and the platform he and Toni were standing on began the slow ascent to the stage. After the initial lurch, the ride was smooth and steady. Toni’s death grip on his arm loosened when she seemed to realize he needed that arm to play. To Logan’s right, Reagan’s platform was rising from the floor as well. The crowd watched in hushed awe.