THE SINNERS AND LADIES - A STEAMY LOVE STORY

BACKSTAGE PASS V

Walking through a hotel in nothing but a bathrobe and panties… Only Brian Sinclair could talk Myrna into doing something that bold. He’d actually tried to convince her to go naked, but she’d reminded him that her stuffed-shirt colleagues would likely be roaming the halls at this hour. She and Brian took the elevator to the top floor. While the car rose, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple.

“I’m sorry to make you miss your conference.”

“No, you aren’t.” And she wasn’t either.

He grinned deviously. “You’re right. I’m not.”

“At least I don’t have to present a session today. How would I look walking up on stage bowlegged and limping?”

“You’d look sexy,” he said. “Especially since I’d know why you were walking funny.” He tapped her nose with his fingertip.

She tried to ignore the little thrill of happiness that fluttered through her heart. She was glad they’d be saying their good-byes tonight. The last thing she needed in her life was a distraction as monumental as Brian Sinclair. And he had her entirely distracted.

There were only two rooms located on the top floor. Brian fished his keycard out of his wallet and opened the door to one of the suites.

“After you, gorgeous.”

She stepped into the marble entryway of the suite, impressed by its expanse.

“Is that you, Brian?” Trey stepped out of the bathroom, shirtless and in baggy black jeans, drying his hair with a towel. His best feature was undoubtedly his sultry green eyes, and hiding one of them behind long bangs made him sexier for some reason.

“And guest,” Brian said.

Trey tossed the towel aside. “Oh hey, pretty lady.”

“Hi, Trey.” She waved self-consciously.

“I guess he found you last night,” Trey said.

“Barely,” Brian admitted.

“Is that Lucky Von Shithead I hear?” Eric’s voice came from a room off to the right. “Goes out and gets himself some Certified Grade A p***y while leaving us high and…” He paused in the doorway, his eyes racking over Myrna’s disheveled hair, bathrobe, and bare feet. “s**t. Sorry, Myrna. I figured you’d have dumped him by now.”

She flushed. “Not yet.”

“So we have this little bet,” Eric began.

“Shut up, Numbnuts.” Brian turned to Trey. “Did someone bring my guitar upstairs last night?”

“It’s in the dining room.” Trey nodded down the hall.

Brian headed in that direction. Myrna followed him, but Eric darted into her path. She looked up at him. His pale blue eyes seemed to penetrate her robe, skin, flesh, and peer right into her soul. She shivered and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said. “We need to know who won our bet.”

“I lost,” Trey said. “He found her room.” He stuck a cherry sucker in his mouth and brushed past Eric and Myrna to follow Brian. “Hey, what’s going on? Why do you want your guitar? Did you finally come up with a new riff?”

“When did he pass out last night?” Eric asked Myrna.

“After he swallowed my banana and I forced him to consume my fluids.” She winked at him.

His mouth fell open. “What?”

“Excuse me.” She brushed Eric aside and followed the sound of a guitar being plugged into an amp.

A second guitar hummed with feedback.

“Myrna, hurry,” Brian called.

She entered the dining room and paused. Brian “Master” Sinclair, his signature black and white Schecter guitar slung low. Trey Mills, sucker stick jutting out of his mouth beside him, adjusting one of the leads on his yellow and black guitar. Nice! Brian beckoned Myrna closer by flicking two fingers at her. He shifted her in front of himself and Trey, and then untied the sash of her bathrobe. He tossed the fabric aside, revealing his score, and the vast majority of Myrna’s naked body. Under the robe, she wore only pink bikinis. Heat flooded her face, but she stood still.

“Nice t**s, Myr,” Trey said around his cherry sucker. His gaze moved from her bare breasts to the string of notes written above and below a single line. “There’s no staff, Brian. What in the hell am I looking at?”

Brian pointed to the start of the line, near Myrna’s right shoulder. “Middle C. The first chord.”

Brian showed Trey his fingering and struck the strings with his pick.

Trey moved his hand along his guitar strings, glanced back at the score on Myrna’s skin and nodded. “Okay. I see. Harmony or concert?”

“Let’s try harmony first.”

“Gotcha.” Trey shifted his sucker to the other side of his mouth, and then struck the first chord.

“Grungier,” Brian said.

Trey adjusted a knob on his guitar, tilted his wrist slightly and struck the chord again.

“Yeah, like that.”

“Okay, let’s go.”

Myrna’s eyes widened as they played one of the most amazing riffs she’d ever heard. The idea that she had something to do with its creation thrilled her.

Eric entered the dining room. “Sounds great.”

Trey missed a beat and his guitar rang with a discordant note. Brian paused and glanced at him. “Something wrong?”

“I can’t concentrate with those…” He lifted his hands in front of Myrna’s chest and flexed his fingers inches from her breasts. “…in my field of view.”

“Oh, come on, Trey. How many pairs of t**s do you see in an average week?” Brian asked.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve never seen hers.” Trey nodded toward Myrna.

Myrna’s face flamed as she closed the robe over her exposed chest.

“Hey, I didn’t get to see them yet,” Eric complained.

“Go bang on a drum in the other room.” Brian pulled the robe sash free from its loops and handed it to her. “Here. Hold this over your t**s so Trey doesn’t knock his guitar out of tune with his hard on.”

She laughed and glanced sidelong at Trey, her face burning even hotter.

Trey nodded, pulling his sucker out of his mouth with a slurp. “Seriously.”

“All right,” she said.

Brian pulled her robe off her shoulders and she held the sash across her breasts. It covered her n*****s but little else.

“That’s almost worse,” Trey murmured. “Uhn. She’s so goddamned sexy. I just want to lick her all over.” He drew his tongue over his bottom lip, his gaze drifting over her skin.

Myrna’s eyes widened.

“Get your game face on, Trey.” Brian thumped him on the head.

Trey stuck his sucker back in his mouth and nodded. He struck the first chord and Brian joined him. The riff got better as their eyes moved over her chest, under her breasts, along her belly. A few times through the sequence and they could play it without reading the notes. Myrna was so drawn up in the music, she didn’t notice Sed until he sat on the edge of the dining table beside her.

“Are you responsible for that?” he said into her ear.

She gasped and closed her robe. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I thank you for getting Sinclair out of his funk, whatever it was you did.”

The two of them watched Brian and Trey play the riff repeatedly until they’d perfected it. Trey started altering parts slightly to fit his rapidly strumming, shredding style. Brian added more triplets, his fingers flying over the strings. It sounded… perfect and, as always, sensual. The two guitarists, Brian right-handed and Trey left-handed, leaned back-to-back and closed their eyes, letting the music carry them away.

She’d never seen anything sexier in her life. Well, maybe Brian’s face when he made love to her, but he almost had the same expression as he leaned against Trey’s back and fingered his guitar.

Jace entered the room rubbing his face sleepily. “What’s all this racket? It’s ten o’clock in the f*****g morning.”

With a start of surprise, Jace noticed Myrna and his gaze drifted down his naked body. His eyes darted back to her. “Aw, s**t. Excuse me.” He left the room. When he returned a few minutes later in a pair of shorts, he took his bass out of its case and plugged it in to a third amp.

Jace stood in the corner with his eyes closed and soon found a bass groove to compliment the new guitar riff.

“You guys are awesome,” Myrna murmured under her breath.

Brian watched her as he played. He smiled. “It’s all because of you, baby.”

She grinned, her heart fluttering stupidly.

Brian stilled his guitar strings with his hand and reached for Myrna, turning her to face the opposite direction. He tugged her robe down to her waist and brushed her long, auburn hair aside. Myrna glanced over her shoulder at him, clutching the robe to her breasts.

“My solo.”

Trey leaned closer, his brow furrowed. Not even a line for direction here. Just notes and a few letters scrawled here and there. “Well, let’s hear it.”

When Brian began to play, excitement raced down Myrna’s spine.

“Wow,” Sed murmured.

Brian’s fingers flew over the fret board, drawing sounds from his instrument that few guitarists could emulate. He finished the solo with one final, long screech on the whammy bar. The entire band whistled in appreciation. He flipped his guitar over his shoulder so it hung upside down over his back. He spooned up against Myrna and drew her against him.

“Now I’m all horny again,” he murmured into her ear, his hands splayed over her belly. “I’ll never be able to play that solo without getting hard for the feel of you around me.”

“It sounded awesome.”

“Let Trey copy that down before you go bone her again,” Sed said. “We don’t want to lose it.”

Brian dropped a kiss behind her ear and backed away reluctantly.

“Or I could take a picture of it.” Eric fished his camera phone out of his pocket.

“If you do, I’ll break your fingers,” Brian said.

“You’re no fun, Be-rye.”

“You just want jerk-off material.”

Trey located some music score paper and a pencil in a guitar case. He started copying Brian’s guitar solo off Myrna’s back, asking Brian for clarification now and again. Very ticklish, Myrna giggled and squirmed as their fingers trailed over her bare skin.

“What’s this note?” Trey asked.

“I think that’s a mole.” Brian leaned forward and licked a spot in the center of Myrna’s lower back. She shuddered. Brian rubbed the spot with his thumb. “Yeah, it’s a mole. It doesn’t come off.”

“I’m adding it in for the hell of it.” Trey chuckled.

“Myr, your mole is interrupting my solo.”

She snorted. “You guys are too funny.”

“I think it’s a great addition,” Trey said. “You can never have too many high C’s in a solo.”

“I like Hi-C,” Eric quipped. When no one laughed, he murmured, “The orange kind.”

“Turn around so we can get the riff,” Brian said.

Myrna turned. Holding the robe’s sash over her breasts, she watched them transfer the dots scattered across her body to paper.

“Sixteenth notes there,” Brian said, watching over Trey’s shoulder. He pointed to the page.

“Sixteenth? You’re giving me arthritis, man.”

“Don’t be a douche.”

Trey took the sucker out of his mouth and tapped it on Brian’s nose. Myrna stole it from him and stuck it in her mouth. Trey glanced up at her, pinning her with his sexy, green eyes. “That’s my sucker.” That was the look that turned female legs to rubber. Myrna was no exception. She leaned against the table for support.

She pulled his sucker out of her mouth and offered it back to him. “My apologies.”

Trey took it from her and returned it to his mouth, turning his attention to the score sheets. Brian wiped at the sticky spot on his nose with his knuckles. Myrna’s gaze moved to Brian’s soft brown eyes. He was watching her, his lips slightly parted.

She wondered what he was thinking.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

Obviously not what she was thinking, but now that he mentioned it, she was hungry. “Yeah.”

“I’m starving. I’m gonna go call room service.” He poked Trey in the arm. “Can you finish this on your own?”

“Yeah, I got it. I played it ten times already.”

Brian kissed Myrna on the temple and lifted his guitar strap over his head. He set the instrument on a stand and left the room. Sed and Eric followed him. Jace still thumbed a quiet bass groove in the corner, switching it out several times as he sought the perfect sound to compliment Brian’s new riff.

When the group was out of earshot, Trey said, “Don’t destroy him, Myrna. Brian falls fast and hard. Chicks can’t handle his intensity and he ends up getting hurt.”

“No worries. We’re just having a good time.”

He took her chin in between his thumb and forefinger. “I mean it, Myrna. If you’re not serious about him, you have to get out now.”

“How can I be serious about someone I just met?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Every time.” He opened his eyes and pinned her with a heavy stare. “We told you he was a romantic retard last night. Did you hear any of it?”

She pushed his hand away. “I won’t hurt him, Trey. Okay?”

“I hope you mean that.”

He stared her down until she had to look away. And he thought Brian was intense? Jeez!

“Leave her alone, Trey,” Jace said.

“Am I wrong?” Trey said over his shoulder.

“No, but that’s not her fault.”

Trey looked at her again. He sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“He’s lucky to have someone who cares so much about him.”

Trey c****d an eyebrow at her and laughed. “Yeah, I guess. One or the other of us always has our nose in his business. Just forget I said anything.”

Trey finished scribing the last few lines of music. Myrna closed her robe and tied it with the sash. She sat in one of the dining chairs and listened to Jace play, her foot tapping in time. Trey spread the score sheets across the table and started playing again, pausing every few measures to add a second set of rapid notes above Brian’s sustained notes. Trey’s signature shred complimented Brian’s wail. It’s what made them sound so good when they played together. Moments later Brian returned, picked up his guitar and joined his band mates. The new composition already sounded like a song. It amazed Myrna how quickly each guitarist had adapted a single riff to fit their particular styles and strengths.

Sed entered the room and sat in the center of the dining room table with his eyes closed. Puzzled, Myrna watched him. He seemed to be in some sort of trance.

When the guitarists returned to the beginning of the riff, Sed sang, or more like screamed, “It came to me in a dream.”

“You could call her that,” Brian yelled.

Trey laughed and shoved him.

Was this how they always wrote songs? The privilege of witnessing their process sent shivers of excitement racing down Myrna’s spine.

“Okay, okay,” Sed said. “That sucked even for my first attempt.”

That sucked? It had sounded great to her. Sed’s voice was low, with an edgy rasp that made various parts of her anatomy swell in response.

Sed continued, “Maybe if I bone Myrna, the lyrics will come to me. What did you just call it, Brian? Magically.”

“Shut up,” Brian said, working on a bridge to the solo with Trey now.

“Magically delicious,” Myrna murmured, watching Brian play and wanting his fingers on her body instead of his guitar.

Sed burst out laughing. He fell back on the table, covering his eyes with the palms of his hands as tears of mirth streamed down his cheeks. “I wonder if we can use that in a song without getting sued by a leprechaun.”

“f*****g Myrna,” he sang in his signature growl, “is magically delicious. Wooooaahhhh. Ohh. Ohhh. Yeaaahh eahh eahhh.”

Myrna covered her mouth, trying not to laugh. She slapped Sed on his bare belly. “Don’t sing that.”

He leaned off the edge of the table and grabbed her around the waist, digging his fingers into her ribs. She laughed and wriggled from side to side, trying to throw him off. Brian’s guitar protested loudly as he leaned across the table and grabbed Sed by one leg.

“Knock it off, Sed. I’m not playing,” Brian said.

Sed released Myrna, who tumbled to the floor. “I’m just teasing her. I’m not after your chick, dude.”

“Bullshit,” Brian said. “You’re after every guy’s chick. Especially mine.”

Sed sat up and shoved Brian. “Get off me.”

Brian let go of Sed’s leg and lifted his fist to pound him. Myrna jumped to her feet and stepped between them, cringing as she waited for the blow of Brian’s fist to connect. It never did.

“Please, don’t fight,” she said. She laid the palms of her hands on Brian’s chest. He lowered his fist and she smiled up at him in relief. “Thank you.” She leaned close, his guitar digging into her belly. “I only want you, Brian.” She kissed the spot just beneath his ear, her fingers curling into his hard chest. “Only you. Trust me, okay?”

His hands stole around her back to draw her closer. She caught Trey’s grin of approval out of the corner of her eye.

“Breakfast!” Eric called.

A hotel worker, looking frazzled and overwhelmed, pushed a cart into the room. Eric moved around him and sat at the table with a drumstick in each hand. He pounded his fists on the table. “Let’s eat. Let’s eat.”

Sed rolled off the table and sat in a chair. A muscle in his jaw flexed, but he didn’t say anything. The hotel worker began to unload the cart, spreading a veritable feast across the table.

Eric lifted lids off plates of food and tossed the covers back on the cart. About half of them hit his target, the rest clattered across the floor. “Mine!” he declared when he found a fluffy omelet smothered in jalapeno peppers.

Sed reached for his plate of eggs over medium and ham. The three guitarists removed their instruments before joining the rest of the band at the table. Myrna wasn’t sure what to do. They hadn’t asked her what she wanted, so she didn’t want to steal someone else’s food. Not that there was a shortage. They’d ordered more than enough for fifteen people.

“I didn’t know what you’d want,” Brian explained, “so I ordered a bunch of stuff.”

She smiled. Sweet s*x god. Yep, that was Brian. He handed the now doubly frazzled hotel worker a tip and then sat at the head of the table, pulling Myrna onto his lap.

“Oh puke,” Trey said, grinning. “Don’t get all lovey-dovey in front of us.”

Brian flipped him off and then tugged a bowl of fruit, a plate of scrambled eggs, pancakes, biscuits and bacon towards them.

“What’s your pleasure?” he asked.

Being this close to him had stolen her appetite for food. A different sort of appetite had awakened. She leaned close to his ear. “Your cock.”

His hand slid under her robe and up her thigh. She tensed.

“That’s the second course,” he whispered.

“I guess I can wait a few minutes. So long as you promise me dessert, too.”

His fingers slid under the elastic band of her panties and brushed one swollen labium. Her body shuddered.

“That’s a promise.”

When he moved his hand above the table to start eating, she relaxed.

She settled for nibbling on chunks of melon while Brian polished off a plate of scrambled eggs drenched with ketchup and several pieces of bacon, also drenched with ketchup. She poured him a glass of orange juice and insisted he drink it all.

“Sickening,” Trey said, still grinning. “Will you look at them? All domestic-y.”

“He needs his strength,” Myrna said, glancing at Trey who sat to her right eating his pancakes smothered in syrup and his sausage, also smothered in syrup. She popped a piece of melon in Brian’s mouth. “I’m horny.”

Eric proceeded to bang his head repeatedly on the table.

Sed laughed. “And you’re wasting your time with Sinclair?”

“Trust me, he’s no waste of time. Guitar isn’t his only talent.”

Brian squeezed her thigh in appreciation. She wondered how much s**t he took from these guys for being a romantic.

His nose brushed against her neck. “I’m full now.”

Her belly tightened with need. “Good, because my panties can’t get any more saturated.”

“f**k. f**k. Fuck.” Eric punctuated his head banging against the table with curses.

“Bath?” Brian asked, looking up at her.

She cupped his cheek and leaned her forehead against his. “It’ll wash off your song.”

“We’ve got that one on paper. I’m hoping I’ll need a blank slate to write a new one.”

She smiled. “I didn’t think of that.”

She slid from his lap and secured her robe before heading toward the bathroom. As she walked past Sed, she heard him say, “I hope the groupies are ready for a good, hard f**k tonight. Goddamn, the pheromones are thick in here. I’ve got a proximity hard-on.”

“Brian gets all the good p***y,” Eric moped.

Brian laughed and slapped Eric on the back as he followed Myrna to the bathroom. She entered the large room, delighted by the Jacuzzi tub in the corner. “Nice.”

Brian closed the door and pulled her back against his belly. He released the sash of her robe and pushed the fabric aside. Her breasts ached as he massaged them with the palms of his hands and her breath quickened as he suckled the side of her neck.

“Are you really horny or did you just want to get away from the guys?” he asked.

She drew his hand to the moist heat between her thighs. “What do you think?”

His fingers stroked her through pink lace. He turned her body to face the wall. Her eyes flipped open lazily and she caught her reflection in the mirror. Their eyes met over her shoulder in the reflective glass. So he wanted to watch her when he made her come. He didn’t have to wait long. His fingers stroked faster. Faster. Faster. Her eyes slid closed, her mouth fell open, and she leaned her head back against his shoulder as ripples of pleasure shook her core. She cried out, clutching his thighs for support.

He rubbed the tip of his nose against the rim of her ear. “You’re so sexy, Myr. This time I’m going to hold you first. I don’t want to get carried away and miss out again.”

He released her and moved to the bathtub, turning the taps and testing the water with his fingers. His wonderful, mesmerizing fingers. Watching him play had worked her up more than she’d realized. She moved behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, unfastening his belt and the fly of his jeans. She rearranged his boxers until his half-hard c**k sprang free. She took it in her hand, stroking its smooth length gently.

He caught her hand. “Wait. I don’t even have my boots off yet.”

“Your point?”

His point is you’re being a w***e again, Myrna. Jeremy’s voice sent delight spiraling out of reach. She closed her eyes and shook her head slightly.

Brian turned and peeled her robe from her shoulders, leaving it in a puddle on the tile floor. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Something wrong?” His thumb brushed her cheek and she opened her eyes to look at him.

“No.” She forced a smile and put her hands on her hips, eyeing his state of dress with disdain. “How is this fair?” she asked.

He stripped himself naked in seconds. His gaze slowly drifted down to her pink lace panties. “How is this fair?” he countered.

She peeled her panties down her thighs and removed them. She looped a finger in the elastic band and shot them at his face like a slingshot. He caught them, drew them to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Can I keep these?”

“If you like.”

He bent and tucked her panties into his pants pocket. He then climbed the stairs to the tub, stepped into the water, and extended a hand in her direction. She took his hand and climbed into the tub with him, standing before him. Staring up at him, she traced the angled contours of his face with her gaze—strong jaw, pointed chin, sharp cheekbones. Eventually, her eyes settled on the upper curve of his beguiling lips. He lowered his head and kissed her passionately—lips, tongue and teeth all caressing her mouth. The water rose up their calves as his kiss continued. When he drew away, he gazed down at her.

“You’d better turn off the water,” she said.

He turned off the taps and sank into the water’s warm depths, holding his arms out in invitation. She sat between his thighs, leaning back against his chest. The Jacuzzi jets startled her.

“Feels good.” He leaned his head back against the edge of the deep tub and sighed.

Myrna hadn’t joined him here to relax, but she couldn’t argue. It did feel good. It felt even better when he began to rub a tiny bar of soap over her chest and belly. Though his touch wasn’t meant to entice, she was panting with need in moments.

“So do you live nearby?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Um….” She didn’t really want to share personal information with him. This was a quick affair. Nothing more. “No, I’m just here for the conference. Which I’m missing, by the way.”

“If you’d rather go—”

“I didn’t say that.”

He set the soap aside, wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned the side of his head against hers. “Quiet is nice sometimes.”

She supposed his life would be consistently loud. So he wanted to talk quietly and cuddle. She shouldn’t complain. She could wait a of couple minutes.

“Do any of your tattoos mean anything special?” She trailed a finger down his hard-muscled arm and the intricate, colorful artwork there.

“Some of them.” He lifted his left arm out of the water and showed her an elaborate display of bloody roses around the name Kara on the inside of his forearm.

“Old girlfriend?” she asked, tracing the letter K with her fingertip.

“My little sister. She died in a car accident when she was sixteen.”

Myrna glanced up at him, noting the raw pain on his face. “I’m sorry, Brian. That’s horrible.”

“It happened almost ten years ago. You’d think I’d be able to bury it by now.”

“She was your little sister. You thought you could always protect her.”

He smiled slightly. “How did you know that?”

She shrugged, not wanting to slip back into psychology professor mode again.

“Do you have siblings?” he asked.

“Two younger sisters. Both pains in my ass.”

“Kara was a pain in the ass, too.” He chuckled. “I still miss her.”

Did he always wear his heart on his sleeve? He must. Even when naked.

“So if you’re not from Chicago,” he said, “where are you from?”

“Missouri.”

“Saint Louis?”

“Does it matter?”

“You have no interest in getting to know me, do you?”

She’d promised Trey she wouldn’t hurt him. She just wished it were harder to do. She knew this relationship could never resemble something significant. He was a rock star on tour. She was a professor with a demanding career. They just didn’t… fit.