Sinners On Tour 06 Sinners at the Altar (5 page)

“My turn!” Eric wrapped his long fingers around Myrna’s hand and helped her cut a slice of cake.

She lifted the piece and touched it to Eric’s nose, leaving a spot of white and pink frosting on the tip. When she fed a bite to him, Brian could practically see Eric melting.

“Do I get a kiss too?” Eric asked. He leaned toward Myrna with his lips puckered, and Brian shoved a hand in his face.

“Those lips are mine, Sticks,” Brian said.

“Damn it!” Eric said, but he was grinning.

“Do you want to participate, Jace?” Myrna asked.

“I don’t—”

She grabbed Jace’s arm and yanked him out of the booth. Blushing ferociously, Jace helped Myrna draw the knife down through the cake. When he took the bite into his mouth, she smiled. His gaze turned to the floor.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Myrna asked. “If you don’t stop looking so cute, I’m going to make you dance with me too.”

His gaze lifted to hers, and he didn’t look away. The fact that Myrna flushed in response wasn’t lost on Brian. Jace so rarely stared a person in the eyes that when he did, it was disconcerting.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said. “I’m a little... wound up today.”

Eric whacked him on the back. “He means he’s horny.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Jace said.

“I’ll dance with you, Myrna,” Eric said. He made his way toward the sound system in the living area.

Jace offered Myrna an apologetic smile and disappeared into the bathroom.

Myrna waved a beckoning hand at Sed. “Come on, Sed. Your turn.”

Sed eyed Brian. “If I touch you, Brian will have my nut sac made into a coin purse.”

Trey burst out laughing. “But who in their right mind would carry it?”

“I’m pretty sure Jessica Chase would,” Eric called from the living area. “She’s used to carrying his balls around in her purse.”

“Fuck you, Sticks,” Sed grumbled.

Brian stopped him from smacking Eric in the head by shoving a hand against Sed’s chest. “Go ahead and share a piece of cake,” Brian said. “I trust her.”

The tension went out of Sed’s body as he turned to look at Myrna.

Despite his words, Brian still stiffened when Sed moved to stand next to her. His wife looked so small beside Sed’s impressive height and broad shoulders. Sed’s muscles bulged inside his tight black T-shirt as he wrapped his hand around hers. Brian’s heart thudded faster and faster as the pair cut a slice of cake and Myrna lifted it to Sed’s lips. She smiled up at him with affection, and Brian’s skin crawled the entire length of his spine. He really needed to get over the jealousy he felt every time Myrna was anywhere near Sed. She wasn’t like his past girlfriends. She wasn’t going to cheat on him with Sed. Mentally, Brian knew that, but instinctively, he didn’t want her within ten miles of the man. When Sed stepped away, Brian released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Trey?” Myrna said.

Trey moved to stand behind her and wrapped both arms around her body before taking her hand in both of his. “I want lots of frosting,” he said, directing the knife toward a corner piece. “And some filling. And more frosting.” He scraped extra frosting onto his chosen portion of cake.

Myrna laughed. “You know what they say about guys with a sweet tooth?”

“What?” Trey asked.

“That they’re sweet.”

“That’s not very original,” Trey said. “I’ve heard they have special skills with their pierced tongues.” He stuck his tongue out at her and winked.

Myrna chuckled. “I think they just say that about
you
, Trey Mills.”

Eric finally found the song he was looking for, which was good because Brian was damned tired of watching his band mates touch his woman. She was laughing at Trey’s attempts to lick all the frosting off her fingers when Brian took her hand and tugged her against him. There wasn’t much room in the bus corridor for dancing, but that suited his purposes fine. It meant he had to hold her close and just sway to the music, her body plastered against his.

“I love this song,” she murmured and snuggled closer.

Her warm breath tickled his neck. His hand slid up her back to her bare shoulder.

“I love
you
,” he said.

“I’m happy. Deliriously happy.” She leaned away from him and stared into his eyes, the huge smile on her face echoing her declaration. “We’re going to make this work.”

He had no doubts.

“I hate to cut in, but”—Eric somehow got his lean body wedged between Brian and Myrna—“dancing was
my
idea.”

“God, when can we get the hell out of here and be alone?” Brian grumbled.

Myrna chuckled. “Go figure out which hotel you want to stay in tonight. I’ll call and make reservations. Eric is feeling left out.”

“No, Eric wants to cop a feel,” Trey said.

“It’s good luck to dance with the bride,” Eric said, displaying surprising skill as he led Myrna down the corridor and away from Brian. “And I need all the luck I can get.”

“I get to dance with her next,” Sed said.

“Absolutely not,” Brian said.

“And then me,” Trey added. He was making a spectacular mess of the wedding cake by removing icing with his fingers and sucking it off them.

“Okay, party’s over,” Brian said.

Emerging from the bathroom behind Brian, Jace pressed his hands against Brian’s shoulders and leaned close to his back to say, “Don’t forget to take off her garter. It’s tradition.”

Since when was Jace an expert at wedding traditions? But he was right. That was a tradition Brian didn’t want to miss out on.

Myrna gasped when he pulled her from Eric’s embrace and lifted her to sit on the kitchen counter. “Did you remember to wear a garter?” he asked.

She grinned devilishly. “I’m not telling. You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

He took her right ankle in one hand and slid the hem of her dress up one inch at a time. The guys hooted and hollered their appreciation. Brian kissed the depression under her kneecap and continued to lift her dress.

“Not too high, Brian,” she said to him, her hands pressing her skirt against her lap. “Don’t forget I’m not wearing panties.”

At this declaration, his band mates sounded like a bunch of Neanderthals at a strip club. Myrna just giggled at them. Brian found the lacy white and blue garter at the top of her thigh-high stocking. He slid his fingers beneath it, tracing the bare skin above her stocking until she emitted that sexy little gasp he adored so much. He slowly drew the garter down her leg to her ankle. Her high-heeled shoe tumbled off as he freed the scrap of material from her body. He kissed the instep of her foot and raised the garter over his head in victory. The guys cheered until they realized one of them would have to catch it. Brian slipped his finger into the garter and stretched it, hurling it toward four very uninterested bachelors. It hit the ceiling, bounced off
Sed’s head, and landed on Eric’s shoulder. The other three men scrambled away from Eric as if he’d contracted an incurable, highly contagious disease.

“Looks like Eric’s the next to get married,” Jace said quietly.

“Who would marry him?” Trey teased.

“Someone who likes a sucker with a lot of money,” Sed said.

“I’m glad Eric caught it,” Myrna said. She slipped off the counter and retrieved the garter from Eric’s palm. She slipped it over his hand and arm, drawing it upward until it circled his biceps. “It looks sexy on you,” she told him.

And judging by the smug look on his face, he believed her. What a dipshit!

“You’re going to make some girl very happy one day,” she said.

Eric smiled broadly, looking as excited as a man granted his three wishes by a genie.

“But
you’ll
be fucking miserable, Eric,” Trey said.

Myrna gave Eric’s cheek a reassuring pat. “Don’t listen to them.”

Eric fingered the garter on his arm, lost in thought.

“It’s getting pretty late,” Myrna said. “You guys should start getting ready for your
show.”

“Yeah, you all head to the venue and leave us alone,” Brian said. He had a powerful need to spend more quality time under her skirt.

“I need to get changed into my suit,” she said. “I can get some data on Exodus End’s groupies tonight.” Myrna’s eyes flashed with excitement. “There’s no way I’m passing up that opportunity.”

Brian caught her as she started to move past him. “You’re going to work tonight?”

“Just while you’re working.”

This was not going as he’d envisioned at all. He figured they could make love all
evening, he’d take an hour “break” to do his concert while she spent an hour in bed recovering, and then they’d make love all night. He’d heard that the heat between a couple usually diminished after marriage, but he’d never expected it to happen so quickly.

“Brian, you’re pouting,” Myrna said.

“I don’t pout.”

“Yeah, you do,” Trey said. “I’m going to take a little nap. Someone wake me in an hour.” He climbed into his bunk and pulled the curtain closed.

Myrna tapped Brian’s cheek, and he turned his head. “Help me take off my dress?”

Now she was talking.

Chapter Seven

Brian trailed after his wife, blood surging into his eager cock. He’d known she’d eventually cave to his unquenchable desire for her. He was just glad it had happened sooner rather than later.

Once they were alone in the bedroom together, Myrna folded herself into his arms. “We need to finish that dance.”

He rested his cheek against her hair and drew her closer, swaying gently to the music that always accompanied her proximity. When his hands moved to the closure at her back, she didn’t protest. He slowly tugged the zipper down until the only thing holding up her dress was the press of their bodies. He caressed her back with slow, firm strokes until she was so relaxed, he thought she might melt into a puddle at his feet. Preferring her excited and responsive, he slid his hands over the sweet swell of her ass. That did the trick. She rubbed her face against his neck and sucked his flesh with soft kisses. Her hands wandered over his back and then she lowered her head to take his top button between her teeth. She tugged. It stayed firmly adhered to his shirt. She gnawed. It didn’t budge. She chomped and pulled her head to the side, and it finally came free. She blew the button out of her mouth, and it pinged against his chest.

“I think I chipped a tooth,” she said, running her tongue over the ridge of her teeth.

“Let me check.”

He kissed her deeply, exploring her mouth with his tongue. She groaned and clung to his shirt with both hands. His buttons might thwart her attempts to
bite
them off, but they were no match for her deft fingers. She attacked the fastenings eagerly, and his shirt was on the floor in seconds. Her dress followed.

She pressed the warm, soft globes of her breasts against his bare chest and tore her mouth from his.

“Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t let myself be alone with you,” she said.

He drew his eyebrows together. “Why?”

“Because I start lusting all over you like a bitch in heat.” She unfastened his belt, released the buttons of his fly, and plunged both hands into his boxers.

“And that’s a problem?”

Her stroking the length of his cock with both hands didn’t feel like a problem to him.

“Yes. I don’t want you to think I
only want you for your body. I need you to know that I love you for more than your skills in the sack.”

“I do know that, Myrna.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, because I can’t wait another minute.”

He grunted in surprise when she grabbed him by one arm and flung him across the bed. She jerked his pants down to his knees, flipped him onto his back, and straddled him. She looked so fucking hot in nothing but her thigh-high stockings. The fuck-
me gleam in her eyes sent control beyond reach. He grabbed her by the ass, and she directed his throbbing dick into the center of heaven. She sank down as he thrust up. They collided in bliss.

“Oh,” she gasped, following him down as he lowered his hips to the bed.

Head tilted back, eyes closed, Myrna sat impaled by him and rotated her hips to force her body to take him deeper. She whimpered, her fingertips curling into his abdomen. Being buried within her silky heat made him ache. He rocked his hips slightly to urge her to rise and fall over him.

“Do you still hear music when we make love?” she asked.

“Usually.”

“How do I make it happen?”

“I’m not sure, but you should probably move a little.”

She
rose maybe an inch and lowered herself again. Lord, but she was tight around his cockhead when he was buried balls deep. He released a tortured gasp when she repeated the same slight motion again and again.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

“Brian,” Sed called through the door. “We need you in the stadium. Now.”

“What?” he grumbled. “I’m busy!” he yelled. “Get lost!”

“I’m really sorry, dude, but Dave said he needs you onstage now. Something about the configuration of something or other and a lot of impressive electronics-sounding words I didn’t understand and the threat of your guitar getting fried and electrocuting you.”

“Tell him to figure it out on his own!”

“Do I have to come in there and get you?” Sed yelled. “I’ve always wanted a second look at Myrna naked.”

Brian bellowed with rage. “I swear
, I’m quitting this fucking band!”

“He’ll be there in a minute, Sed,” Myrna called.

She lifted her hips, and Brian fell free of her body.

“Uh,” he gasped. “No. They can get along without me.”

“Sweetheart,” she said, “it’s okay. You need to get ready for the concert. We’ll pick up with this later. Your music is important. I understand. Really.”

“It’s not okay. Being with you is more important right now.”

“It makes me happy to hear you say that.” She lowered her eyes and smiled sweetly.

Brian almost choked on his tongue. Myrna Evans, erm,
Sinclair,
was openly admitting that his sentimental drivel made her happy? Oh God, there was no way he could concentrate on anything but making love to her now.

He reached for her, but she climbed from the bed. “I’ll catch up with you backstage,” she said and went to the closet and tugged out one of her skirt suits.

She chose the trim navy blue one and a silky pink top to wear underneath. Brian groaned. The woman knew what seeing her in conservative attire did to him and how much he liked knowing what she was wearing underneath. Tonight it was nothing but thigh-high stockings. Mercy. She pulled the silky top over her head and the fabric clung to the erect buds of her bare nipples. Oh God, she wasn’t wearing a bra tonight either? Fuck him. Fuck him all to hell. He’d never make it through a concert with that knowledge rattling around in his brain.

Myrna’s skirt quickly hid her sexy ass from view, and then she shrugged into her suit jacket.

“Get dressed, baby,” she said gently. “I’ll catch up with you
backstage
.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time.” He climbed from the bed and pulled up his pants.

“But I don’t think you understood that it meant I’d be fucking you senseless when I caught up with you.”

She dropped the bombshell without fuss, as if she were telling him they were having eggplant for dinner.

She slipped into a pair of three-inch heels, exited the room without a backwards glance, and left Brian staring at the door with his mouth agape and his dick hard and his thoughts swirling with images of being fucked senseless.

When he finally remembered that he was supposed to be dealing with band bullshit, he pulled on the tight black T-shirt he planned to wear onstage that night. He had a more difficult time buttoning his jeans over his stiff cock. His difficulty wasn’t due to his cock being damp with Myrna’s juices. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. The reason it was so painfully hard was because it
was
still damp with Myrna’s juices, which served as a delicious reminder of the feel of her tight pussy gripping him. So it actually
was
her fault that his dick’s perpetual rigidity was putting a horrible strain on the buttons of his fly. This called for a cold lap-bath in the nearest sink. Poor mistreated dick. She’d better make this up to him and soon.

Ten minutes later, Brian found Sinners’ front-of-house soundboard operator, Dave, cussing up a storm backstage inside the arena. When Dave noticed Brian, he looked like he’d just witnessed an angel descend from the heavens. A guitar was shoved into Brian’s hands, and he spent almost an hour working with Dave to fix some feedback problem Brian swore was imaginary. He didn’t hear it at all. Even if it did exist, Brian wasn’t sure why one of the roadies wasn’t a suitable replacement for strumming and adjusting and strumming some more.

“No one sounds like you,” Dave explained, when Brian started to get antsy and tried pawning off strum-duty on their mohawk-sporting roadie, Jake.

When Dave was finally satisfied the nonexistent feedback had been squelched, he let Brian go and started having a coronary over one of Eric’s off-sounding bass drums. Dave wasn’t typically this high-strung, so his agitation must have had something to do with being in the company of Exodus End’s legendary soundboard operator, Mad Dog McFarley. The dude looked like a startled bulldog, but he was second to none in mixing a live show. Dave kept wandering over to Mad Dog’s soundboard and peeking over his shoulder, as if trying to photograph top-secret documents with an implanted eye-cam.

Brian shook his head, trusting that the guy would keep his shit together for the show.

He headed toward the dressing room, hoping that Myrna would “catch up” with him soon. He couldn’t think of anything but getting lost in her for twenty or thirty hours. As he passed a door, a graceful hand reached out and grabbed him by the T-shirt, tugging him into the dark confines of a closet. She found his mouth in the darkness, pressing her naked body against his. Brian grabbed her bare ass before it dawned on him that several things weren’t right. More specifically, that her ass was in the wrong place; it was several inches too low. And she didn’t taste like Myrna. Didn’t smell like Myrna.
Wasn’t
Myrna. He shoved the unfamiliar woman away and reached for the doorknob to escape.

The woman was surprisingly strong as she wrapped both arms around his waist and pulled him away from the door.

“Don’t deny me this, Master Sinclair. I want you so bad.”

“Let go,” he demanded, trying to pry her iron grip from his waist.

“Just let me suck your cock. Please.”

Her needy voice made his skin crawl. “I said let go. I don’t want to have to get rough with you.”

She’d somehow managed to get his belt buckle unfastened. He covered his crotch with one hand and tried to fend her off with the other.

The woman emitted a throaty chuckle. “I want you to get rough with me. Leave marks on my skin. Nail me hard as
fuck
so that my pussy remembers you in the morning.”

She grabbed his ass, and his balls tried to climb up into his belly. There wasn’t anything about this attempted seduction that turned him on in the slightest. Brian managed to get a hand on the doorknob again and opened the door. His gaze was lowered toward the floor, but the space at his feet wasn’t empty. He’d recognize those high heels and shapely calves anywhere.

“Myrna,” he gasped, a lump of cold lead settling in his stomach. His head jerked up automatically. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“So there isn’t a naked woman plastered to your back with her hand on your crotch? You aren’t coming out of a dark closet with your belt unbuckled?”

“No,” he denied.

“I’m not blind, Brian.”

“I mean yes, but—”

“Nor am I stupid,” she added.

He forced his gaze to hold hers, but she looked away and glared at the woman accosting him.

“Get your fucking hands off my husband,” she said.

Her uncompromising tone made the hairs on the back of Brian’s neck stand on end.

“Your
husband
?” the woman gasped.

“Yes, my husband. Mine. Get the fuck away from him.”

“I didn’t know—When did he—Well, how was I suppo—Just let me get my clothes.”

The woman moved away from Brian’s back, and he stepped outside the small, dark room. She closed the door quietly.

“Honestly, Myrna, I was trying to get away from her. There’s no way I would have done anything with her. She just grabbed me when I walked past the door.”

“I trust you.”

“I would never destroy what we have over something so stupid.”

“Brian, I trust you. Chill.”

Myrna slid into his arms.

“You do?” His body melted against hers with relief.

“Of course. Do I have a reason not to?”

“No. All I want is you.” They’d just danced to a song with th
ose exact words as the title. Surely she knew he meant what he said.

She lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “I feel exactly the same way.”

He kissed her, his soul buoyant with joy.

The door behind him opened again and naked-chick, now mostly clothed, brushed past them as she fled. Still kissing him, Myrna walked Brian backwards into the empty closet and shut the door.

“I’ll have to thank your groupie for pointing out this place,” she said. “I wondered how I was going to get you alone backstage. I had settled on a bathroom stall, but the last time we tried that, it didn’t end well.”

Brian laughed. “It ended well for me.” He laughed again and squeezed her in a tight embrace. “But not so well for my lucky hat.”

“Or Eric.”

“Every time he wears that hat, I think I’m going to bust a gut trying not to laugh.”

“Less talking. More satisfying kisses.”

She clung to his shoulders. In the darkness, her kiss landed on his chin. She nibbled her way to his lips and caressed them with deep sucking kisses. As she warmed, her scent—a sweet combination of coconut, sex, and Myrna—intensified, blotting the scent of antiseptic cleanser coming from somewhere in the closet.